#she did the sAME THING IN BOTH SPECIALS SHE WAS A MAJOR PART OF AND SHE DID NOT HAVE ANY CHARACTER GROWTH OR ANYTHING AT ALL

[calebs-hangout-corner]

Thinking about Brooke again

[downbadf0rficppl]

exposure therapy

Bucky x F!Reader

Summary: Bucky tends to avoid crowded spaces. He's afraid of something - either being recognised or being trapped or something else. He doesn't know. When you offer to help him get out of his comfort zone. He can't resist.

Word Count: 4.5K

Warnings: Creepy weirdo men (not Bucky), therapy, smut

Repost

You dipped into the subway, dodging in between passengers - it was rush hour and the subway was disturbingly crowded. You scrambled onto the platform, praying that your train was slightly delayed so you could get on in time. It wasn't.

You stood on the platform as more and more peopled filtered, the noise building to a cacophony of miserable voices. You took a step back, trying to back away from the edge, when a man shoved you through the crowd. You stumbled forward.

A gloved hand wraps around your arm, pulling you back towards the middle of the platform and into a warm chest. You start to pull away, not keen to be leaning into a stranger. A familiar cologne hit you. You’d bought him that cologne. You looked up to see a welcome face.

Bucky.

A vicious scowl was etched into his face, his arm now firmly around your waist. You smile up at him, and he catches your smile, returning it with a soft one of his own. You reach to hold onto his hand as the train pulls up to the platform. You both step on, grabbing onto the bar and jolting as the train gets going.

Bucky leans down to your ear, “You okay, doll?”

His hot breaths elicit shivers all down your spine. You nod at him, unable to push any words out and he looks at your peculiarly. He’s never known you to be lost for words.

You met Bucky once he started his court-mandated therapy sessions. You were the receptionist at the clinic, and you knew Dr Raynor’s reputation for being thorough – although it was your personal opinion that maybe, sometimes, she could take it easy on some of her patients. Bucky was one of them.

You’d gathered a lot from the months that he had been going to therapy. The major thing was that therapy was the reason he was usually in such a poor mood. If he walked in in a bad mood, his mood when he left was positively foul. He didn’t like how Dr Raynor pried – even if that was, in fact, part of the point of his therapy.

You’d gathered that he was quite a lonely man. In fact, when he first started coming to therapy, the fact you smiled at him surprised him. He’d warmed up to it over it, and nowadays, when he came to the office, he greeted you before you greeted him.

You started finding jokes to tell, or little interesting facts – anything to make him smile. You offered sweets to the kids, words of warmth to the adults, and jokes to Bucky. It all worked out. He laughed at your jokes, in the same way the kids enjoyed their sweets and the adults appreciated to the adults.

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky looked forward to seeing you. He was surprised by your smile – but only how beautiful it was. He’d never seen pure sunshine until he saw your face break into a smile. In fact, the sun could go dark, but he knew that the world would only adapt to revolve around you. He knew that his already did.

On his birthday, you were the only person who gave him a present – a rather expensive cologne that you had splurged on. You wanted him to feel special. Turns out you didn’t need to go to those lengths. You were one of very few people who even knew it was his birthday.

Bucky made a point of buying you flowers from time to time after that – and you made a point of hiding them from Raynor. You didn’t want your budding friendship to be another thing she digs deep into. He also wore the cologne every time you saw him, which made you smile. At least he liked the gift.

He got off at your stop with you, even though you insisted he didn’t need to. Something about, ‘it’s on my way,’ and ‘I’d feel better if I knew you got home safe, doll.’ You smiled as he walked next to you, hands tucked into his pockets, leading the way to your apartment. You walked in a comfortable silence, the noise of Brooklyn blaring all around you

“How was it?” You asked, looking up at him.

“Hmm?”

“The subway. How was it?” You knew that Bucky generally got quite claustrophobic. He’d avoided the subway for the first few months of living in Brooklyn and, even now, only took it when he absolutely needed to.

He looked at you, his eyes full of amused frustration, “Could be worse.” He lowered his voice, hoping you wouldn’t hear him, “Was better ‘cause it was with you.”

You smiled, “Call it exposure therapy.”

“Exposure therapy? What’s that?”

“It’s where you face your fears by confronting them head on.” He looked at you, still confused, “You know how you’re scared of enclosed spaces?” He nodded his head, “Well, exposure therapy would put you in an enclosed space – like the subway – to confront your fear.”

Bucky nodded his head, mulling over your words in his head. It doesn’t sound like a bad idea.

You came to your apartment lobby, Bucky following you inside. You told him that this is where you left him, and that you’d see him next week, same place, same time.

You were heading toward your apartment when he stopped you, “You know the exposure therapy thing you mentioned?”

You turned back around, “Yeah?”

“Is that a real thing?”

You nodded your head. Bucky swallowed nervously, not sure how to ask the question. You read his mind, “You wanna give it a go?”

He nodded. You grabbed his hand gently, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles.

“You should probably talk to the professional about how to actually go about it,” you chuckled at how his face darkened at the mention of Raynor, “but I’d love to help you out. Whatever you need.”

Bucky watched you as you disappeared into the stairwell, smiling all the way.

Just like you said, Bucky brought the idea of exposure therapy up with Dr Raynor in his next session. Surprisingly, she was almost immediately on board. She figured that it would be a good way for Bucky to get out of his comfort zone and confront some of his more irrational fears.

He immediately told you. You squealed – a sound that definitely shocked Bucky – grabbing his phone from his hand and adding your number as a contact.

He changed your contact to 'Doll' – not that it was necessary seeing that the only people that ever texted or called were Sam and Raynor. Guess you were another person to add the extremely exclusive club.

The next morning you dragged him to a coffee shop. Not just any coffee shop. The local Starbucks. You drag him in during the rush hour, holding his hand as he grumbles in the line.

"Did we really have to start this extreme?" He says, gazing behind and in front of him. You squeeze his hand, reassuringly.

"You'll be fine. Know what you want?"

You shuffled forward as another person moved out of the line.

The Starbucks worker sighed as you and Bucky walked up to the front of the line. You smiled at Bucky as he gripped your hand, unassuredly.

"Hi - um - can I - uh - get - uh... -" Bucky stumbled over his words. You ran your fingers over his knuckles soothingly, "cold brew - the smallest size."

The worker nodded his head, "that'll be...-" You drowned out his words as you stared up at Bucky's face. His face was still contorted in a grimace, but there was a glint of pride in his eyes. You gave yourself a mental high five.

Bucky paid for his drink and waited as you ordered an iced caramel macchiato with oat milk. Bucky wasn't sure he knew what any of that meant but he looked in awe as you complimented the cashier and made him blush. You had that kind of effect on people.

You grabbed your drinks and went to sit in Central Park, the sun streaming through the trees as you found a bench. You rested your arm next to his, keeping the contact between the two of you minimal.

"You like it?" You asked, staring him in the face. He took a sip and pulled a face.

"Too bitter." He said, sticking his tongue in disgust. You laughed. He celebrated internally, desperate to hear that sound directed toward him again.

"Really?" I thought you would have liked it. You know, given the dark and brooding look you've got going on." You deadpanned. He shoved you gently and you laughed again.

"Try mine," you said, handing over your drink and grabbing his. Yours was much nicer than his, sweeter and more milk too. He smiled in response and took another sip, "Keep it. I like cold brew." He tried to change your mind and hand you back your drink, but you were adamant.

"Let's play a game."

He looked at you, questioningly.

"20 questions."

He turned to face you.

"Rules are: one person asks a question both answer it...-"

"That's not how '20 questions' usually works."

"Well, that's how it works now. Also rapid-fire: you have to say the first thing that comes to mind."

"Ok, shoot." He leaned back, resting on his arm, occasionally taking sips from the macchiato.

"Favourite colour?" You went first, starting simple.

"Yellow," He said, not really thinking. His face blushed when his mind caught up to him though. You noted that for later.

"Mine's blue, like the sea." You responded, staring intently into his eyes. Bucky's eyes were blue, just like the sea on a stormy day. Easy to get lost in. Easy to get found in. Those eyes told you where home was. "Your turn."

"Ok, umm- favourite hobby?"

"Umm, I like painting. Helps me relax. Used to paint a lot as a kid, probably need to do it more often." Bucky stared at your lips as you talked, mesmerised by the way they move. "What about you, Buck?

"Me? Oh, I like reading."

"Oh yeah? What kind of books?"

"The Hobbit. Was my favourite back in the day. Read it with Steve all the time." He became quiet at the mention of his best friend, and you reached out to rest a hand on his.

"You wanna know my other favourite hobby?" Bucky nodded, meeting your eyes, "Helping my favourite super soldier get out of his comfort zone." Bucky's eyes lit up at that.

You stood up, offering Bucky your hand. He grabbed, faking back pain as he stood up. "Where to next, doll?"

"We're going grocery shopping." The groan that left him made you laugh out loud.

You walked into the Target near the compound. Neither of you actually lived in the compound, but this Target was bigger than any of the Targets in the city. You figured the bigger the Target, the more likely it was that Bucky would get out of his comfort zone.

He grabbed your hand and squeezes it tightly. You smiled up at him as you pulled out a trolley. Bucky grabbed it from you, hands tightening around the bar. You linked your arm with his.

"Ready?"

"No."

You smirked, patting his arm, "You'll be fine."

You perused through the aisles, occasionally handing Bucky an item. If you were too short to grab something, he'd reach up over your head and grab it for you. You flushed at that - the feeling of being caged between Bucky made you feel safe. Like nothing could ever touch you.

You walked ahead of Bucky, leaning on your tiptoes to grab some eggs from the shelf. You grab the carton, placing it in the trolley. He looks at you lovingly, your cheeks blushing under his gaze.

"Excuse me, could you move?" An old man shoves past the both of you. Bucky's gaze immediately hardens. The old man continues to grumble under his breath.

He moves to say something, but you grab his hand, shaking your head. Bucky pulls you into his chest, leaning to press his lips to your forehead. Butterflies erupt in your stomach as surprise washes over you. Clearly, his actions caught up to him as he froze up, muscles tightening under your hands. He tried to pull away but you keep your face nuzzled in his chest, arms wrapping tighter around him. You smiled as he relaxed into your hug.

He leaned down to whisper in your ear, "Should we get going, doll? More things to buy."

You nodded but kept your hand in his. He smiled as you leaned into him. This was nice. He could get used to this.

You finished shopping, scanning your things through in the self-service. You didn't have that many items, but Bucky refused to let you pay, whipping out the card that Stark gave him, with the excuse that he didn't use it enough - especially, given the amount of money that Stark had put on it.

You were giddy. Your shopping trip was a success - Bucky now knew that supermarkets weren't even half as scary as he thought. In fact, he even smiled at a worker on his way out.

Bucky helped you load the two shopping bags onto his bike, before strapping the helmet onto your head. You could get used to this.

After that day, you guys went out regularly. You tried restaurants and diners (Bucky preferred diners because it was less fancy and he felt more at home - "haven't changed much from the 40s", he'd said), you tried the gym (or rather, you dragged him to the gym with you on a random Tuesday morning when you had a spin cycle class - it wasn't that bad but Bucky stuck to training at the compound), you even took him to the cinema when they were showing a 'Lord of the Rings' rerun (Bucky almost kissed you when he heard the plan, but restrained himself - there was no way he was scaring you away now).

Therapy with Dr. Raynor became more bearable because it was just another excuse to see you. He'd put more effort into how he looked - combing his hair, keeping his beard trimmed how he knew you liked it.

Raynor picked up on it.

"I see your exposure therapy experiment is going well. What kinds of things have you been up to?"

Bucky stared out the window.

"James?"

He looked Raynor in the eye, before glancing at you through the window in the door. It was barely a shape, due to the frosted treatment on the window, but he knew it was you. He always knew.

"Shopping. She took me to the mall yesterday."

"That's a big step." Raynor said, noting that down with her pen, "How was it?"

"Wasn't that bad. We went into a shop she likes, then she asked me to pick a shop." Bucky looked down at his hands.

You had taken him into Sephora, promising him you only needed to get one thing. You run out of your favourite mascara and just needed to grab a tube. Bucky didn't know what mascara was, nor did he particularly care, but he followed you into the store nevertheless. You picked up the mascara you were looking for but kept milling around, looking to see if anything caught your fancy.

Bucky's hand found yours with relative familiarity, and you pulled him around as you explored. A man from across the shop gave him a sympathetic look.

You left Bucky for a moment to pick up a couple of face masks when the man from across the store made his way over. He patted Bucky on the shoulder amicably.

"Feel for you brother," he chuckled, moving past him. Bucky was confused.

You lined up behind him, mascara, face masks, and some liquid blush that you'd been meaning to get for a while in hand. You paid for the items, wishing the cashiers a good day. When you walked out, you asked Bucky where he wanted to go. It wasn't until you got to the clothes shop that he realised what the man meant.

He'd thought you guys were dating. The thought alone made Bucky want to smile. He gripped your hand tighter and didn't go for the rest of the trip.

Bucky looked up at Raynor and continued, "Then we got food and I dropped her home. Same as usual."

Raynor nodded, "Did it help?"

He shrugged, "I probably wouldn't go again. The mall isn't my kinda place."

"Why? Did something happen?"

"Too many teenagers."

Raynor smirked at that, "Any plans for this weekend?"

"Sam's taking me to a bar. Says we need a post-mission stress reliever."

Raynor nodded, "That'll be good for you, James. Enjoy it."

She stood up to open the door and Bucky followed closely behind. He left, wishing Raynor a good evening, before walking up to you with a smile.

"What can I do for my favourite super soldier today?" You asked, placing the sign-in/sign-out sheet in front of him.

"Maybe consider spending your Friday night at a bar with me?" He asked, nervousness hidden behind his confident facade. This was the first time he'd ever asked you on something resembling a date.

You saw through his front, "Is this just because you don't want Sam to spend the entire night trying to set you up with someone?"

"Maybe?"

You laughed.

"Is that a yes?"

"Sure, Buck. I'll go to the bar with you. Pick me up at 7? I'll send you the address."

When you opened the door to your apartment, Bucky's jaw dropped. He thought he'd died and gone to heaven and you were the angel waiting to ring him in.

You smiled at his awestruck expression, patting his cheek before grabbing your hand and leading him to the stairwell he had just walked up. He followed you like a puppy.

He fastened the helmet tightly on your head, before speeding down the road, going as fast as you like it. You rest your head on his back, arms wrapped tightly around his waist.

You waltzed into the bar together, Sam's status as the new Captain America making it easy to skip the queue. You grabbed drinks - a cosmopolitan for you and an old fashioned for him. You teased him for his choice but Bucky just smiled.

You looked around for Sam, but he was nowhere to be found "Probably caught up doing Captain America stuff," you tell Bucky, whose eyebrows had been furrowed almost since you arrived.

You drag Bucky to the dance floor after two drinks, and you stay there for half the night, waiting for Sam to show up. You dance and dance and dance, teaching Bucky some new moves that wouldn't have been legal the last time that Bucky came out dancing with a girl. Bucky's phone buzzed in his pocket.

He leaned down to whisper in your ear, "Sam's calling, I'll be back in a second." You smile up at him, continuing to dance once he'd left.

Not minutes had passed, when you feel a presence behind you. Thinking it was Bucky, you turn around to smile at him, only to come face to face with a greasy smile. He placed his hands on your ass, and you shoved him away, walking towards the bartender.

"Come on, sweetcheeks. Let us have some fun." You walked through the crowd faster, not looking back. He was still following you.

Bucky. He was outside, he could help you.

You made a beeline for the exit, hoping that the creep was far enough behind you, you could get away unseen. You weren't so lucky. He grabbed your hand and pushed you up against the door, arm pressing against your breasts. The door gave way as you pushed against the release latch, causing you to both go stumbling outside.

Bucky was right outside the door, trying to call Sam back, when you came flying through the door. He instantly pocketed his phone, striding towards you as you backed away from your pursuer.

You bumped into his chest, immediately pulling away to face him. You relaxed when you saw it was Bucky, grabbing his shirt and moving behind him.

"You can't hide from me, you little slut." Bucky saw red.

He grabbed the guy by his shirt and pushed him up against the wall, flesh hand coming up to slap his face. "Don't ever call my girl anything again, you hear me?"

You preened at 'my girl', hoping that it was true, that you were truly and honestly his girl.

Bucky let the man go as a bouncer came around the side of the building. He nodded towards Bucky, who explained that "he tried to grab my girl, chased her out the building."

There it was again. 'My girl.'

The bouncer grabbed the man by the scuff of his neck and threw him out onto the curb. Bucky turned to face you, hands stroking the side of his face. He looked intently into your eyes, searching for a hint of pain or fear. There was nothing. All he could see was love, radiating from your gaze and warming him from top to toe.

You grabbed his face and pulled him down, your lips pressing onto his. He melted into the kiss, eyes closing as he took over, tongue slipping between your lips as you gasped. A small whimper escaped you.

"Doll, you're driving me crazy."

"Take me home, Barnes."

He practically raced from the bar to his bedroom, carrying you up every flight of stairs. He gently rested you on the bed, ripping his shirt and jacket off in eagerness. He crawled on top of you as you reach to attach your lips to his. The kiss is long, messier than before, teeth and tongue fighting for dominance. You pulled away for air, resting your forehead against his.

He kissed you again, excitement pouring off of him, before moving to kiss down your jaw and in between your breasts. He eased your top off, leaving you in your bra, and kissed down your belly button to the top of your trousers. He asked for your consent with your eyes, hooking his fingers in your waistband. You nodded vigorously. He pulled your trousers down, discarding them against the floor. You took off your own bra, throwing it into the pile of your clothes. His eyes were fixed on your breasts for a few moments before he turned back to your cunt.

He buried his face in your clothed cunt, his hyper-sensitive smell craving the scent of your arousal. He teased you with his metal finger, rubbing circles around your clit. You arched up against him, whines slipping out of your mouth.

Those sounds made the blood rush straight to his cock.

He swiftly pulls your panties away, throwing them nearby your trousers. He buried his face between your thighs, nosing at your clit as he licked stripes up and down your lips. You whined, begging for more stimulation, and Bucky happily obliged. He moved to licking and sucking your swollen clit, the ministrations making you shiver and shake as you call his name, moaning loud enough for his neighbours to hear. Your thighs clenched around his head, trapping his face in your cunt. He watched as your squirmed, eyes trained on your pleasure-ridden face. He grabbed your thighs, massaging them under his hands, liking the feel of the flesh of your ass in his hand. He felt more possessive of you than ever. This was his.

His fingers moved to work their way into your pussy, it clenching tightly at the intrusion and overload of pleasure. He moved his fingers in and out slowly, picking up the pace of his tongue on your clit. You arched your back again. He smacked your thigh, wanting to gauge your reaction - you moaned loudly and your cunt clenched around his fingers. He growled out how fucking good you taste and how good you are for him. Your cunt clenched again at his praise.

"Oh, you like that? You like being my good little girl?" You moaned in response, "Oh sweetheart, I could eat you out for hours. Look at how pretty you are shaking and shivering for me."

His fingers sped up inside you, pounding into you. You came with a loud moan of his name and a shudder, collapsing against the bed in exhaustion.

The flush on your face and your fucked out expression made Bucky's cock impossibly harder.

He grabbed a condom from the nightstand, and pulled off his trousers and his boxers, discarding them somewhere. His dick was hard against his abs, tip red and leaking. He rolled the condom down his dick.

He pulled you down to the edge of the bed, flipping you over. "Ready for round 2?"

You nod enthusiastically.

"That's my good little girl."

He slid into you easily, giving you a minute to adjust to the stretch. He started off slow, but quickly lost control, yanking your hips up to meet his relentless thrusts. The super-soldier stamina mixed with the way you made him feel, made him all the more driven to push you over the edge again. The sound of your pussy when he drove back into you made him groan, your tits bouncing at the force of his thrusts. He reached forward to play with them, flicking and pulling the nubs as he pounded into you. You moaned, your face buried into a pillow as he pulled your hips back against his.

Bucky lifted your back up to his chest, rubbing at your clit with his metal hand, the flesh one remaining on your tits. You pulled it up, curling the fingers around your throat.

"Oh, you're a dirty girl." He squeezed a little, loving how your pussy clenched at the oxygen deprivation. You came seconds later, shaking as he kept fucking you through your orgasm, telling you how you’re gonna give him another one.

He spilled his own load into the condom moments later, pulling out and pulling you into his chest, both of your hearts beating impossibly fast.

He helped you clean up, wiping your body with a wet cloth after disposing of the used condom, helping you into a pair of his boxers, and giving you a t-shirt to cover everything else.

"Not that you need to. I appreciate having some eye candy to look at," he said cockily, holding the shirt over your head, just out of your reach

You looked up at him, hands covering your naked tits, "Where's this cocky energy when we're out in shops, huh? Would've made exposure therapy so much easier."

He dumped the t-shirt on your head and shoved you lightly as you burst into laughter, pulling on the t-shirt before throwing your arms around his neck.

"S'only for you. All for you." He said, carrying you back into bed and wrapping his arms around you, "Always for you."

"Love you, Buck."

"Love you too, Doll."

fin.

buy me a coffee

[cinnamonmilf]

✧˖°.☪︎.𖥔 ݁✧:･. rapid eye movement (part ii)

summary: you meet ellie in a dream…or was it at a café now?

cw: nothing, just fluff (repost from old account), you can read part 1 here

BEFORE YOU READ!!!:

FUNDRAISER MASTERPOST BOYCOTT TLOU DAILY CLICK

"Excuse me, um, I love you"

I know that's not the way to start a conversation

It had been two days since you had seen Ellie. This time she wasn’t accompanied by the yellowish hue and warm ambience of your R.E.M. state, you had actually seen her.

The girl that was driving you crazy was actually flesh and bones, rather than just a lulling mirage, and she had been kind enough to give you the notebook you’d forgotten at your favorite café.

There was no other way to describe it besides bizarre.

You couldn’t even thank her properly, staring at her for what was probably too long with widened eyes. She even asked a concerned “Are you okay?”. And no, you definitely weren’t.

Did she not know who you were? Did she forget about your strolls and your hugs and your deep talks? Had she ever dreamt of you? Was it even possible that it was all true? Or had you maybe seen her before and your brain took her face and made up an entire person?

How are you supposed to explain to a total stranger you’ve dreamt of her and fallen for her in said dreams?

The hair, the face, the tattoo, all of it was the same. Would she be the same, though? Was she an astrophysics major? Did she like the color green and NASA and also laughed at silly puns?

It was like your brain was nothing but a bunch of questions with no answer. None rational, at least.

But there she was. Right in front of you with that mesmerizing aura of hers that made you feel so drawn to her…regardless of the realm you were in. You weren’t one to ask people out. You’d usually wait for them to ask you or flirt with them until they took a hint. But there was no way you could let her go just like that. You couldn’t really tell her you knew her either, but you could just ask for her phone number, right?

And so you did. She smiled and agreed. In her mind, she was happy about the fact that giving you your notebook back had landed her a possible date with such a pretty girl.

Two days. You hadn’t texted her. You didn’t dare. What if she wasn’t like your Ellie? What if for some fucked up reason you dreamt of someone so special but she turned out to be nothing like that? What if the connection wasn’t there? What if she wasn’t sweet and caring and funny and trustworthy?

But it had been enough. Enough questions and enough overthinking. There was no way for you to know if you didn’t text her.

“Hi, it’s the girl whose notebook you saved :)”

“Hey, didn’t think you’d text anymore”

“Oh no! I’m sorry. I just got a little caught up with school”

“I wanted to see if you’d like to hangout sometime?”

“I’d really like that. Is friday cool?”

“Friday’s great <3”

“Okay, I’ll pick you up, yeah?”

“Oh you don’t have to dw”

“No, it’s okay, I want to”

“Pretty girl like you shouldn’t be walking on her own”

You sighed in relief. At least you were done with that part.

Flirty…At least that checks out with your Ellie.

You spent the rest of your week both dreading and anticipating your date on Friday. And, god, were you a mess.

You couldn’t remember ever being so nervous about meeting someone. You spent the next couple days overthinking your outfit choices, how you should do your hair, what you were going to say. More than anything, the thought of this Ellie not being at least a little like your Ellie was nothing short of terrifying. You adored this girl. Her not being real was one thing, but her being real and being the complete opposite was a nightmare.

At 6:36pm your bell rang.

“Coming!” You yelled as you finished putting on your shoe and took one last look in the mirror.

“You got this,” you told yourself. Though the shaking of your hands was slightly contradictory.

You finally opened the door and there she was. She was wearing jeans and an open button-up with the half-up hairdo you liked so much. You can’t help but discreetly pinch yourself just to make sure you weren’t asleep.

“Hi.” You greet her with a smile.

“Hey, you look great.”

“Thank you, you look great too.” She´s smirking now, probably noticing how nervous you were. Well, at least now you knew she was cocky too. “You ready?”

The ride to the restaurant was filled with small talk. You were too nervous to ask her any of the questions you actually needed to ask. You thought to yourself you’d leave them for the restaurant. Having warmed up a little more with each other.

One thing about Ellie, she knew how to treat a girl. She opened the door for you, helped you fasten your seatbelt, let you play your own music on the way there. She was so…well, dreamy.

As you both wait for your food you finally gather the courage to ask. In reality, they were all very basic questions. Not to you, though.

“So, Ellie..”

She hums.

“Are you in college?”

“Yeah, Astrophysics”. Oh, fuck.

“Astrophysics?” Your eyes widen.

“Yeah,” she chuckles, “have always been into all things space.”

You can’t quite believe this is real and not some sort of sick cosmic joke. You try your best to hide your shock. It’s not really a good look for you to audibly gasp every time she says or does something that further proves she’s actually Ellie.

“Oh really? You must be really smart, then.” You tease with a smile.

“Shut up.” She laughs. “Are you in college?”

“Yes, English Literature. Almost done.”

“Really? Suits you.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“Good, of course.”

If this whole thing was bizarre, this moment was just ridiculous. Every other déjà vu was nothing compared to this. It was your Ellie, from the looks down to the way she worded her thoughts.

The rest of your date went great. You learned she indeed was twenty two and liked NASA and comics. She talked the same and she laughed at the same things. She had the same mannerisms: pouts her lips, she fidgets with her hands, smirks a whole lot and oh! such a flirt.

One thing, though - nothing hinted at the fact that she remembered you. You knew most of the things she told you about herself today, not that you minded, but she was actually meeting you for the first time. How could she not remember? Did she even have the same dreams?

You still had many questions, but you were also very relieved. She was Ellie. Your Ellie. Your auburnette with a space obsession and a liking for silly puns. Your funny and sweet friend. Your favorite girl.

She took you back home and walked you to your door. You spin on your heel to face her.

Loose strand of her framing her face, glimmery green eyes staring at you and an eyebrow scar that’s surprisingly attractive on her. Like straight up from your subconscious mind, now right in front of you.

“Can I see you again?” You can tell she’s the nervous one now, not that she lets you see it. You just know her too well.

You smile at her. You thought it was obvious.

“Of course.” You inch closer towards her and press a kiss on her cheek. “Call me, yeah?”

She blushes at this. Trying too hard to contain the huge grin on her lips.

“I will.”

“Goodbye, Ellie.”

The next few days went well. Ellie and you kept texting back and forth, getting to know each other more. You did find out new things about her. About her past, her friendships, her family.

You found yourself constantly checking your phone for her texts. Eagerly waiting for the notification on your screen with her name attached to it. Not that she ever made you wait long, you pretty much had all her attention. You’d smile every time she’d make a dumb joke or she’d call you a sweet name. When you thought you couldn’t love this girl more…

-

The sun was starting to set. Pink and purple clouds painting the sky. The weather was getting warmer and you didn’t have to carry an obnoxiously big jacket with you anymore. You’d had classes all day, finally ready to unwind and peacefully enjoy your Friday night. Or so you thought.

Your phone starts ringing and it’s none other than the girl who's responsible for your stomach doing somersaults. You quickly drag the phone icon to the right and press the device to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hey, pretty, Are you busy?”

“Nope, just walking home. Had a bunch of classes all day.”

“Are you doing anything later?”

“Ellie Williams, are you trying to ask me out on a date?” You jokingly gasp and earn a laugh from her end.

“Yes, actually. The sky’s supposed to be like super clear tonight and I know a spot where you can really see all the stars and stuff.”

“I’m in.”

“Yeah? I’ll pick you up in an hour. Sounds good?”

“Sounds great. Bye, Ellie.”

“See you in an hour.”

You scurried to your apartment to get ready. You did your hair, changed your clothes, sprayed a sweet vanilla perfume on your pulsing points and quickly touched up your makeup. An hour and eleven minutes later, your bell rang.

This time she was wearing a hoodie with a light jacket on top, her staple jeans and jacket combo. Her hair was up in a low bun. She was such a sight for sore eyes.

“How do you even know this place?” You ask as you both get out of the car. It was higher than the rest of the city, not quite at the top of the mountains but it still had a rather breath-taking view. Pretty quiet yet comforting. A safe haven just for the two of you, at least for tonight.

“Well…” Ellie scrunches her nose.

“What?”

“Kind of found it by accident once, with my ex.” She nervously scratches the back of her neck.

“Are you serious?” You laugh.

“It was just once!”

“So you bring all your girls here?”

“Just the special ones.”

“Shut up, dork.” You playfully roll your eyes at her and nudge her arm.

You both settle the blanket on the grass. Lying next to each other. Propped heads rested on your respective hands.

“So..ex, huh?”

“Yeah, we broke up a little bit over a year ago.”

“What was her name?”

“Cat.” You hum. “She’s great, we just didn’t really work as a couple.”

“Are you guys still friends?”

“We are on good terms. Talk every now and then. I wouldn’t call it ‘friends’, though.”

“I’m not really supposed to talk about exes until like the fifth date, you know?” She jokes.

“You brought her up!” You laugh.

“Yeah, you are right. Sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

Ellie couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Yes, this was your second date but it felt like it wasn’t. She felt as if she had known you her whole life. Something about talking to you and spending time with you felt just right. More than right. You brought a sense of comfort to her. She was in awe of you.

You both rest your heads and look up at the sky. Ellie was right, it was very clear tonight, you couldn’t recall the last time you had seen so many stars.

“Look, you see that one? The one that looks like a W.”

“Wait, where?”

“Right..” she grabs your index finger and points it towards it, “there.”

“Oh I see it!”

“That’s Cassiopeia.” She explains not letting go of your hand, despite you having already spotted the cluster of stars. “It’s the 25th largest constellation in the night sky.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, and the first to list it was Ptolomy in the second century…” Ellie went on and on about nebulas and exoplanets. It’s not that you didn’t care, it just so happened that the constellations lined up by her freckles were a whole lot more interesting than the ones drawn in the navy blue sky. “I probably sound like such a nerd right now.” She laughed.

“What? No, not at all. It’s cute how excited you get.” You keep on playing with her hand. Locking and unlocking your fingers, twisting them against each other’s, featherly brushes against her knuckles and the soft scraping of your nails against her skin.

“Is it?” She could feel her heart speed up, so much so that it felt like it was trying to break her ribs and find its way to you. You were no better.

“Mhm, you are very smart. I love hearing you talk.”

She smirked. Of course she did. No matter how nervous or excited she was, she wasn’t Ellie without that tinge of cockiness never leaving her side.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.” You breathed out.

She hovered over you, grabbing your chin to pull you closer to her. She brushed her lips against yours, almost kissing you. Breaths perfectly sync as you feel the air fanning against each other’s mouth. There was no way in hell you could wait one more second, you break first. You crashed your lips into hers.

You had never kissed Ellie, not even in your dreams. You had thought about it many times, but even your imagination’s best efforts couldn’t compare to this.

It was exhilarating, the feeling of her lips rhythmically moving with yours. It just made sense, you two fit. You had kissed people before, but nothing like this. You two were made for each other, and if the otherworldly experience of how you first met didn’t make it painfully obvious, this did.

You moaned into the kiss which she took as an opportunity to explore your mouth with her tongue. Cupping your face to bring you closer, as if you were going anywhere.

She finally breaks the kiss.

“Fuck…”

You giggle, “I know.”

Crazy to be so infatuated by someone on your second date. But the truth is that’s how Ellie felt and she couldn’t explain the how. You, on the other hand, had an idea or two.

After your second date the two of you only got closer. You were on cloud nine. You two could talk for hours, hangout for hours, laugh for hours, kiss for hours. You had come to terms with the fact that you would never know how it is that you met Ellie first or why she couldn’t remember your slumber induced escapades.

It didn’t make it any less strange, but you were long past the freaking out stage. If anything, you had gotten to know Ellie better and even experienced things you never got the chance to back there. You were meant to find each other. That was the best you could come up with and it was fine with you.

-

You decided to plan a date for you and Ellie. She was usually the one that did, being the creative one out of the two of you. But you wanted to do something nice for her.

You settled on a picnic. The past few days had been sunny and warm enough for it. You hauled to the kitchen and prepared everything you needed. The snacks, the drinks, the plates and the cutlery, checkered blanket and all. You even got her flowers earlier that morning.

As your girl rang your bell one more time to pick you up, you grabbed the basket and the flowers and opened the door.

“Hey, beautiful.” She said as she pulled you in for a kiss. You hum into the kiss.

“These are for you,” you tell her as you hand her the bouquet.

“Are you serious?” She asks with a grin on her face.

“Of course, I’m serious.”

“God, you are” kiss “so fucking” kiss “cute” kiss

You giggle into her kisses. “I take it you like them?”

“I love them. You are the first girl to give me flowers, you know?”

“I am?” You ask incredulously.

“Yeah.”

“All the other girls were stupid, then.” She laughs.

She drives to your destination. A pretty forest you had found upon a quick internet search for a good picnic spot. The pictures didn’t lie, the place was beautiful. Green foliage and perfectly cut grass with the perfect amount of sun and shade. You set up the whole thing, enjoying the evening with Ellie.

Ellie was convinced she could stare at you for hours. From how you move your hands when you talk, to how you tilt your head back slightly when you laugh, to how you pout your lips and twist them to the side when you are thinking, you drive her mad.

And maybe it’s the way the sun is hitting your back, making a halo form around your silhouette. Maybe it’s the way the green compliments your skin so beautifully, so familiarly. Maybe the way the warmth of the day and yours mix together and embrace her, making her vision slightly hazy. Maybe the way the sound of the breeze hits the leaves and the sound of the birds chirping mixes with your voice and creates a song she’s sure she’s heard before. But Ellie has lived this before. She has seen you like this before.

She almost gets whiplash from it, all of it coming back to her at once. The day at the cafè wasn’t the first time you two met, and she remembered now.

-

a/n: second repost while i work on part 3 :)

taglist @s4pphicslutt @fleshunger @whore4abby @astroph1les @eelliesbtch

[lostyesterday]

I’ve been thinking about disabled protagonists in Star Trek recently, which got me thinking about Seven of Nine. It’s interesting because I’m almost certain the writers of Voyager did not intend to write a disabled character, but they ended up accidentally writing one anyway, and one whose arc I find surprisingly compelling as a disabled person myself. Seven is dependent on electronic devices both inside her body and external to it in order to survive and she requires regular medical treatment and specialized adaptations to her environment in order to function. She is absolutely canonically disabled (as are all the other ex-Borg in Star Trek), even if the writers probably weren’t aware of that. The major reason that I think Seven’s arc resonates with me so much is because it reflects a deep tension between independence and dependence that is a fundamental and complex part of so many disabled people’s lives.

To be disabled is to be deeply aware at all times of your own dependence on external things (such as wheelchairs, canes, medications, etc.) and other people. At the same time, to be disabled is to also be deeply aware of the societal standards of independence and self-sufficiency you are constantly failing to live up to. You cannot do things that people are “supposed” to be able to do independently. You need help for basic tasks, and you have no choice but to trust that these external supports you are dependent on will not suddenly disappear, causing you to be unable to participate in society at all. It’s difficult to express to someone who hasn’t experienced it how much being disabled forces someone to consider their own level of dependence and independence constantly, how it becomes a deep part of one’s identity and can often be a source of trauma.

Seven’s arc on Voyager is often focused on the nature of individuality, but it is interesting how often “individuality” becomes a stand-in for independence. Seven’s disability makes her deeply dependent on the crew and resources of Voyager for survival. She could theoretically leave and use her own skills to do maintenance on her implants and install an alcove somewhere to keep herself functioning, but it would be a great risk, and her safety would be constantly in doubt. At the same time, Seven hates this dependence. She tries to rely on other people as little as possible, hating her need for the Doctor to diagnose issues with her implants and refusing to ask for help until she has no other choice. She hates this dependence because she sees it as challenging her ability to become a complete “individual” who is able to make her own autonomous choices. She hates this dependence because it forces her to rely on other people who could at any time abandon her or abuse their power over her.

So it’s far less frightening to pretend this dependence doesn’t exist, to hide it even from herself. Seven’s arrogance in her own abilities, her focus on her intellect and vast knowledge and superior physical abilities are in many ways genuine, especially early on. But at what point does this confidence in her own abilities – this reassurance that she is smart enough and strong enough to control her own destiny and be a true individual – become a coping mechanism to deal with the reality of her dependence on objects and people outside of her direct control?

Seven is told often by members of the Voyager crew that being an individual who makes her own choices and decisions is what she should strive for. And at the same time, those same people often exert control over her, attempting to restrict her autonomy. Janeway or the Doctor tell her that they know better than her what her needs are – that being an individual only goes so far. Seven’s anger at this contradiction is one of my favorite parts of her character, partially because it captures a similar feeling of anger deep inside me when I think about the ways society constantly pressures disabled people to maintain standards of independence impossible to live up to while at the same time deeply restricting our autonomy and freedom.

In the episode “Imperfection”, Seven says that what she wants most is to be useful. To be useful is to be a valuable part of society – someone who is self-sufficient and talented and certainly not deeply dependent on other people for basic survival. To be disabled is to have society constantly demand that you be useful, that you be independent and strong and never let your disabilities limit you. And at the same time, to be disabled is to discover over and over that you can never be that fully autonomous, fully functional human being seen as ideal in society. No matter what you do – no matter how far you run from the truth – it’s an impossible reality to escape.

[fawnprincessblog]

𝒜𝓃𝓰𝓮𝓁'𝓈 𝒹𝓮𝓋𝓮𝓁𝓸𝓅𝓂𝓮𝓃𝓉 𝒹𝒾𝒶𝓇𝓎.

(part 1: 'the praise and some coffee') type: slow burn, fluff (tom kaulitz 2015 × fem reader)

includes : teacher × student, childish annoying immature school girl who's name is Angel (you), teacher tom, wannabe teacher's pet, age gap. tom is 25, angel is 17. plot : angel, a young, childish and innocent honour student was shunned by her schoolmates due to her being a teacher's pet, but none of that mattered whenever she ran into her favorite teacher, Tom, that she so deeply admired, who she swears on her life she will serve until the day she dies. despite being favourited by many other teachers, tom does not favour her due to her clingy behaviour. she may be smart but her hormones play a huge part in her schooling life as well.

bambi's note! : hello sweeties :3 i don't really wanna explain much but i think you guys will be sick of hearing the same lame excuse to why i disappear quite frequently. writer block makes me want to suicide sometimes, i've been trying my hardest to write, this took me months to finally put tgt. crazy that it's short too. i have drafts from last year in my docs. im also an art student, so it makes it hard to tackle both things rn. anyway, have fun reading part one of 'Angel's development diary ' :3

“Everyone now turn to page 74,” Tom instructs, his voice sharp and echoing across the classroom. The whole room was silent, only he could be heard. Nobody would disrespect a man like him, for he was rather strict, and serious, his only intention being to get his point across and educate his students. That’s what the majority saw in him. 

Well, except for one person. That was Angel. The honour student of her class.

Angel saw what other people did not care about. Despite being the very sophisticated and refined teacher everyone knew, to her he was so much more. Tom was a young, 25 year-old Maths teacher. She admired that strong body structure of his, and the way his face features all fit together. The way his hair was always worn in a messy bun, a few strands poking out the front, had just added to his good looks. He wasn’t over-dressed, like those wannabe scientists-looking teachers in her physics classes; he was rather usually seen in t-shirts. On special occasions, she got to see him in a suit. 

He wasn’t the kind to play around. He expected all his students to pass his class with flying colours, not one left behind. In fact, all teachers wished the same. In such a popular and very high-class school, of course every single student had to be well-behaved and supremely knowledgeable.

The school Angel went to was one with a high standard of academic and extracurricular achievements. It has a strong emphasis on academics and often has a highly selective acceptance rate, which makes it difficult to get in. She was quite lucky. The campus has beautiful architecture, state-of-the-art facilities, and ample resources for students' academic and personal development. The faculty members are very well-educated and experienced in their respective fields, and the school often has a high student-teacher ratio. The students are often from wealthy families with a strong academic focus, and the school often boasts a high graduation rate. 

Coming from such a school that was great and had put Angel’s reputation in great hands meant no mistakes were to be made at all. She had to maintain her good grades. And one thing is for sure: she couldn’t possibly keep having dirty thoughts about her teacher. 

“Hey, you,” Tom called out, snapping his fingers twice. “Angel?” 

She snapped out of her trance almost immediately, a little startled by his tone. “Oh—yes?” she responds, heat evidently rising in her cheeks the moment he had called out her name. Oh, when he said her name, it only served to heighten her arousal. His voice was so strong and firm, it made her squirm in her seat like a damn worm. All those dirty thoughts wouldn’t go away. 

“Are you gonna pay attention? Or is daydreaming the only thing you like to do?” Tom asked, folding his muscular arms across his chest, staring right into her soul. He had this scary glare that usually put most students in fear, but to her, it was attractive. His dominant demeanour when teaching a lesson made her imagine all these horrendous things, like how he was in bed. 

“N-No—! Um, I was listening,” Angel responds, clearing her throat. She shifted a little in her seat, tugging at the hem of her red plaid skirt. She was wet. So uncomfortably wet and aroused, she would’ve probably left a stain on the chair if she had gotten up.

“I hope so,” Tom grunted, turning back to the chalkboard to continue writing those endless amounts of Math sums. It was overwhelming to look at; all of the numbers bunched together, the dusty residue of the chalk making it even worse. It was a lot to take in, however that was just how it was. 

His teaching continued, his voice loud and clear. Angel diligently started writing down her notes, trying to keep up with his pace. Being such a good student, she had become fond of his teachings, and she was expected to have one of the highest marks among the rest, even if everyone else was already good. 

An honour student. That’s what she was. Supposedly, she was the teacher’s pet. 

She did well, joined every possible club and involved herself in every school event, making sure she was obtaining high merit points that boosted her reputation in her school. Angel was simply a good little girl that most teachers did like, but the other students, and for some reason, Tom, did not like her. They found her exasperating. 

The bell rings. Class is over, and Tom is preparing a stack of worksheets to hand out to the class on the way out. “Alright class, tomorrow I wanna see all your worksheets full of numbers. All correct and no mistakes. I believe I’ve taught you all enough on this topic, so I expect perfect answers,” he announces. “You can pack up and leave now.” 

“Sir!” Angel calls out, rising from her seat abruptly, making everyone else pause from their packing up. Majority rolled their eyes. “You forgot to take attendance. Usually you take attendance every morning before class but since you forgot the checklist you said you would—”

“Right, right, okay,” Tom interrupts, an exasperated sigh followed right after. Clearly, he was pissed. Angel was quite aware that he disliked her try-hard behaviour, in fact, she was aware everyone did. Of course as an honour student she was made to please the teachers with good grades and behaviour, but the other students knew clearly she acted the most clingy around Tom. She saw past his strict demeanour and she acted like a child around him. Always trying to point out the simplest things, always reminding him about his meetings, always trying to get him his coffee, always trying to help him out at any damn chance she got— Angel was desperate and needy for his love. She was willing to make him love her. She wanted to be his favourite student. 

He notwithstanding, saw her as a confounded girl who was beating a dead horse. A try-hard, annoying, clingy little bitch that stuck to him like a damn tick. It irritated him when she acted like his little servant. 

But Angel liked it. She didn’t care. 

“Since you wanna help so much, get the checklist for me,” Tom tells her rather bluntly, clicking a pen in his hand as he speaks. Angel’s ears perk up at his request. “What? Really?” she asks, eyes full of joy. That annoying excited voice—it made his ears bleed.

“Go get it, it's in my office,” Tom says. “And hurry. Your classmates wanna leave class.” 

“Consider it done, sir!” she enthused, immediately dashing towards the door and running straight to his office. Like a little slave, she did everything for him.

Recess time. One of the times where Angel would bother her favourite teacher the most. Even if she was trying to be helpful, she usually came off as a nuisance. He was an earnest and disciplined man, always keeping up with his set schedule. During break he’d grab coffee in the teacher’s lounge, discuss some things with his colleagues, or he’d take the coffee straight to his office so he can finish up paperwork. However he wasn’t the only one who kept to his schedule…

“Hi sir,” she greeted excitedly, grinning like an idiot. She blocked him, not allowing him to continue walking through the school hallway, which was empty since everyone else was at the cafeteria. “Where will you be taking yourself to today? Do you need help with anything?

He lets out a breath, trying his hardest to not let her irritate him right now. Angel being around him was something he couldn’t possibly avoid. It was an everyday thing now. “No,” he said simply. He then looked around. “Do I look like I need help?” His tone was dripping with sarcasm. Angel could tell, but she couldn’t be bothered. 

“You may not be holding anything that I could help you carry, but there’s other things I can help with,” Angel says. “Like, your coffee. Do you want me to get your coffee?” She was just so damn innocent  acting like a maid trying to please him with every chance she got. She really acted like life was all unicorns and rainbows, like she had not a single issue in the world.

“For the last time, I can get it myself. You’ve been asking this everyday now,” Tom sighs. “Shouldn’t you be eating? It’s recess. Go eat.”

“I already have,” Angel replies with that annoying giggle right after, making him clench his jaw. She was insufferable. That giggle was ingrained into his mind. He could recognise it from a mile away. 

“Okay, good. Now if you don’t mind, you can just mov—”

“One sachet of the coffee mix, two teaspoons of sugar and some milk to top it off,” she interrupted, making him raise an eyebrow. “You use the blue mug. Always the blue mug,” she added.

“You know my coffee?” he asked, a little disturbed by her knowledge on how he liked his coffee. His eyes narrowed to slits, peering at her.

“Yep,” she replies, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. To him, she was a complete stalker at this point. “You have about 12 minutes to go to the teacher’s lounge and get your coffee, and return back to your office to finish marking off the recent test you gave us before you have to rush to the meeting you have with Mr.Harrison about the new changes we’re making to the school’s mural art.” 

“What?” he said, almost wanting to laugh in disbelief. That was way too many words for him to comprehend. “You know my schedule?” 

“Well I memorised it,” she shrugged. “Tuesday’s and Fridays you stay in your office during break. All the other days you’re eating at the teacher’s lounge.

What the hell, he thought, looking at her with the most perplexed look he’s ever plastered onto his perfect face. “What are you doing, stalking me? My schedule is printed on paper and left in the drawer of my desk—”

“It’s also printed in my mind,” she joked, pointing a finger to her temple. 

He looks at her, bewildered. Completely uneasy. He didn’t like this. He knew she always had this weird thing for him, but he didn’t think she was this peculiar, knowing his schedule and all. Tom was taken aback by her behaviour, but he remained unruffled for now. It wasn’t too surprising, since she had been doing this for a while; asking him if she could get his coffee, but he had always declined. In the past, she had been randomly reminding him about his meetings, or anything he planned to do on that day, which he also found annoying, but today she really surprised him, wording out his entire plan for today.  

He cleared his throat. “Well, I know my own schedule, I don’t need you to tell me,” he says.

“I know. You’re very smart. But, I figured you’d like help,” she says, grinning. 

He had to get rid of her. This damn pest of a student. “I don’t. Not right now. So, If you don’t mind, Angel, please move aside so I can go.” He tries to walk past her, but she stubbornly blocks him again. 

“C’mon, I’m sure you need someone to get your coffee,” Angel insisted, looking at him with those set of pathetic eyes, ones that he insanely hated to look at. She was small, pretty, and sweet, but she was tiring. He didn’t like her. “Angel…” he sighed, wanting to snap at her, but he held back; he may be strict, but there was no reason to be shouting at a student who just wanted to help so badly, right? “...Fine. Get my coffee, bring it to my office. Now.” he finally relented, looking down at her rather annoyed that he had forced himself to give in. Oh, she really had her ways. 

“Yes, sir!” Angel exclaims, smiling widely, and she dashed off, disappearing immediately. Tom folded his arms, watching the pesky little girl run off to get his coffee like a slave. She obeyed him so much, wanting to do anything just for his attention. He chuckled a little, he couldn’t help himself.

“One coffee,” she says, placing the blue ceramic mug onto his desk slowly, as if she were a waitress. Tom had been busy on his computer, going over some emails while waiting. She had returned rather quickly. Tom flashed her a faint smile, and he took the cup, taking a small sip. She had got it right. It tasted exactly like how he wanted. 

Wait for the praise, wait for the praise, Angel thought in her mind, eagerly looking at him for a positive reaction with big, innocent eyes. 

“It’s exactly how I like it, Angel,” Tom finally says, looking up at her. He noticed her small hands fidgeting with the hem of her school skirt. “Good job,” he finally praised, his voice low and soothing. 

Angel’s cheeks immediately flushed pink. Everytime he gave her praise, her arousal hit her like a brick. She couldn’t contain herself. She could already feel herself soaking her panties. “N-No problem, sir…” Angel says, her lips slowly curling into a nervous grin. She squeezed her thighs together a little, trying to contain herself. 

“You may go now,” he says. 

“Y-Yes,” she nods, bowing a little as a sign of respect. She then left.

Tom did not know the effect he had on this girl. If only he could ease that ache.

[solecize]

  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ  𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 | 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. every summer on your grandpa's farm was real-life magic to your younger self, who left a piece of her heart in amber valley when the years went on and the town became nothing but a faint childhood memory. soon enough, you become rocked by his death and realize the dead end in your bustling city world. this leads to you making an abrupt decision. despite knowing nothing but designer purses and the corporate ladder, you uproot your entire life to take over your grandfather's old farm in the town you were desperately trying to remember - alongside a familiar face from your youth that permanently finds his way into your heart. 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: jungkook/reader 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. inspired heavily by stardew valley, friends to lovers, childhood friends, cowboy jungkook, small town alternate universe, slice of life, grief, growing up, mutual pining, jungkook as a parental figure 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. 9k 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒. i don't even know what to say. i normally don't talk a lot and i'm mostly very unserious, but this is the last chapter of the farmouse and honestly, i'm super emotional about it. i'm really grateful for those of you who took the time to read and support this fic, every kind word has meant everything to me. i wrote this fic during a tough time when i needed warmth and joy, so i hope that this fic was able to bring even just a little bit of that for you while reading. (the writing of this chapter was quite literally delayed because my three year relationship ended midway through lol) this was also my first piece of writing in years and it's safe to say that i was able to fall in love with writing again because of this fic, so it'll always hold a special place in my heart. thank you times a hundred again <3 

part ten: the midsummer festivalㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ   previous. epilogue. masterlist

  xxiv. the midsummer festival

squeezing through bodies in the stands, it took all of your focus to not drop the popcorn and drinks wedged in your arms. you should have asked someone to come with you, but you were in such a rush, not wanting to miss a thing. finally, you made it to your seat, plopping yourself in between jiwon and yoongi, and your eyes remained fixed on the lawn the entire time.

  amber valley had the most beautiful days you’d ever laid eyes on and today was no exception. you weren’t sure if it was because of the natural charm in the sleepy town or a biased sense of nostalgia towards the countryside that you carried. the midsummer festival was held at the peak of the season, where humidity was as thick as honey and not a single cloud escaped being casted away from the cerulean of the sky. you had no choice but to throw on a tank top and shorts because anything else would feel like suffocation.

  “i didn’t miss anything, did i?” you didn’t mean to scream, but there was no other way for your voice to beat the crowd amongst yourselves.

  jiwon shook her head, her hair splaying from underneath the baseball hat that she so obviously stole from her brother. “no!”

  the show-jumping competition was one of the newest additions to the fair and it proved to be one of the most popular. not only did the majority of the town come out to observe, but the fair also drew in an impressive number of visitors from elsewhere - some of which attended the fair specifically to watch the show-jumping. 

  “LETS GO KOOKIE!” screamed hoseok at the top of his lungs, holding up a customized poster board with a printed picture of jungkook and leo, depicting the words ‘go jungkook!’

  yoongi groaned, “can you sit down? they haven’t even finished setting up for the jump-off yet.”

  at this point in the competition, it was down to jungkook and another competitor, a man a few years younger named yesung. up until now, they both achieved the same score after the round performance and both cleared nearly perfect showings. the jump-off was a shortened course with tighter turns and higher jumps, intended to break the tie and determine the winner.

  the crowd began cheering when jungkook and yesung reappeared, standing and waiting for instructions. you found jungkook adorable in his outfit, a dark green show jacket and breeches that emphasized his leg muscles. you had to catch yourself from staring too hard at his thighs because it seemed like yoongi caught you, waving a hand in front of your face with a snicker. you only glared at him.

  it was mayor kim with the microphone, explaining the rules to the crowd. “and, to decide the order for performance, we have conducted a random draw. as a result, we will see. . .choi yesung go first!” he proclaimed, eliciting another round of cheers from the crowd.

  from where you stood, you noticed jungkook naturally relax his shoulders. for that, you also breathed out a sigh of relief. he stepped away to where leo was, making way for yesung to complete his round.

  when it was time to begin, everyone rose to their feet. from what you saw and heard of yesung, he was also a well-seasoned equestrian. he wasn’t as decorated as jungkook, but he had the advantage of winning the last show-jumping competition in the spring. you didn’t realize jungkook was out for vengeance, but he was indeed looking to reclaim his name.

  every fraction of a second mattered in the jump-off round and so, your eyes were glued. the pressure was on and you watched yesung charge ahead. he decided to take some risky turns, likely to shave off time. the first one was executed perfectly and you nearly jumped at the second, challenging turn. it was not calculated well, as it resulted in a rail down at the penultimate fence.

  “oh shit!” one of the boys yelped, watching the unfortunate accident. 

  yeung finished the course at a respectable, but flawed time. it was shame, since his speed and ability could have easily secured a victory. he knew it, too, judging by the disappointment in his eyes. you almost felt bad for him, if it wasn’t jungkook off to the side and gearing up for his turn.

  now, it was jiwon screaming as loud as she could. “YOU CAN DO IT!” she screeched, cheering for her brother and you joined in. 

  already mounted on leo, jungkook looked up, right at your section. he gave a small wave and you all went wild - even mrs. oh, who brought her own sign to cheer him on. you guys weren’t the only ones, though, as it seemed that jungkook was a favourite amongst fans.

  “jeon jungkook, jeon jungkook, jeon jungkook,” chanted the boys and you weren’t sure who started it, but you also began chanting, too.

  he readied himself and at the sound of the horn, blasted off. the tensions were thicker, with the stakes at hand and the pressure on a seasoned competitor looking to re-establish himself. you couldn’t imagine the weight of the crowd under the beating of the july sun, considering the heat made you already down your water bottle by the first hour of the competition and were in half the clothing jungkook was in. between you and jiwon was a shared usb handheld fan, as the two of you silently took turns holding it - eyes too glued to the show and shouting jungkook’s name.

  he was fast and sharp, yet every movement of his was so well thought out. at full force was a risky approach, but was so far bearing perfect results. you felt your heartbeat getting louder and louder, making your head pound with adrenaline. the last few seconds, the world became quiet and all you could focus on was jungkook. then, the eruption snapped you back into reality.

  “LET’S GOOO!”

  if someone was somehow not on their feet watching the final round of the show, they certainly were now, as jungkook zoomed to the end with no flaws and an incredible time. even you had to blink a few times, trying to see the time recorded clearly and realize your eyes were not deceiving you.

  “there’s no way that’s not a record!” you heard jimin exclaim and you didn’t doubt him.

  there was a hushed murmur over the crowd, as mayor kim stepped to the podium once more. tapping the microphone a few times, you and the rest of the crowd winced at the feedback that came with it. then, mayor kim spoke.

  “ladies and gentlemen. . .” he begun, loud and clear.

  jungkook was still catching his breath to the side, having yet to even take off his helmet. all eyes were peeled on mayor kim, as he took an extra pause for dramatics. if you weren’t also about to jump right out from your skin, you’d roll your eyes.

  “. . we have a winner AND a record setting time. jeon jungkook, young man, please join me on this stage.”

  no longer holding your breath, you roared along with your friends and the earth practically rumbled. jungkook’s smile was as bright as the day, as he whooped in response and raised his fist in the air. you were filled with nothing but joy. 

  before he stepped up onto the stage, jungkook displayed his integrity by walking towards yesung and enthusiastically shake the other man’s hand. yesung didn’t look too upset, more bewildered at the quality of performance that his opponent put on. they exchanged words, smiles reaching their eyes.

  “that’s my brother!” screamed jiwon, as if no one knew the obvious.

  jungkook then took mayor kim’s hand in one and attempted to balance his new, golden trophy with the other arm. in a split second, your friends, jiwon, and the oh family began filing out of the stands and you could hear hoseok yelling for you to follow. you widened your eyes, shuffling out of your seat as quickly as possible.

  of course, jiwon was the fastest and made it to the lawn first. she squealed, as jungkook embraced her in a hug and spun her around. the cheers didn’t falter and only grew when namjoon and taehyung momentarily put jungkook on their shoulders.

  you trailed behind everyone, nearly stumbling on your way down. you couldn’t see much, tiptoeing as far as you could. the chatter was still loud, but then the small crowd parted as you heard jungkook call out. it was your name. he was calling for you to come to the front.

  “oooooh,” someone said, but you ignored it.

  there was no doubt in your mind that your cheeks were a cherry red, but you refused to look anyone in the eye - even jungkook. you and your friends gathered around the podium with jungkook, as the event photographer asked you to move closer for a picture. everyone made way for you, as jungkook gestured for you to be the one on his right side, while jiwon and mrs. oh were on his left. 

  “congratulations,” you finally said, straining for your voice to be heard over the cheers. you still did not meet his eyes, finding yourself in a kind of shyness that was unknown to your normally headstrong personality.

  that was something that came natural to jungkook, having an innate ability to bring out parts of you that you didn’t even know existed. before moving back to amber valley, you walked around with your chin up, thinking that you knew everything you needed to know. 

  now, at 25 years old, you knew harvesting soybeans and playing cards at the local pub with your new friends. you knew the smell of the ocean in the sweltering summer and you knew riding horses in sunflower fields at sundown. looking at jungkook, you knew what it was like to be slowly, but surely, swept off your feet. the realization creeped up on you, a sneaky little thing.

  namjoon was the one holding onto leo, as your group huddled together for the picture. you instinctively hugged into jungkook’s touch, holding them in front of the camera.

  jungkook spoke, right into your ear. “i’m so glad i was able to have this moment with you.”

  that made you finally look up at his eyes and in that moment, a flash went off. this is when you also snapped out of your daze and despite his stare unwavering, you turned back to the photographer.

  “oh, maybe we should take another -” you started, knowing that neither you or jungkook were looking in the camera, but he waved you off.

  “no, no! this picture came out perfect,” the photographer winked at you and asked for everyone to disperse, before you could argue. something told you that you were going to see a picture of you and jungkook gazing into each other’s eyes on the front cover of the local newspaper.

  he proceeded to take a few more solo pictures of jungkook with leo, followed by some shots with the mayor. jungkook was supposed to be kept busy, but he continued sneaking glances your way.

  it was mrs. oh who gently tapped your shoulder. “now’s the time, honey. come to the store quick before he notices.”

  beside her, sangwoo rolled his eyes. “he’s going to notice, he hasn’t taken his eyes off of her.”

  regardless, you scrambled to follow behind mrs. oh. you weaved through the crowd, who all wanted to take a look at their champion in disbelief of the amazing time jungkook scored. the show began relatively early in the day, too, so the streets were only now becoming more and more full with the midsummer festival in full swing.

  the roads were blocked off for pedestrian access only, as the fair was one of the busiest times of the year for amber valley. today was a day that drew crowds from outside of town, as the festival was an adored regional celebration and served as a tourist destination. you wouldn’t be surprised if you were told that the midsummer festival attracted the highest visitors of any other day in the year for the town.

  carnival games, market booths and amusement rides were already set up since the morning and it was already getting tiresome to navigate through the festival goers. but, of course, you were trailing behind the force that was mrs. oh, who made way with ease with her commanding voice. 

  “time to get to work,” she sighed, pulling out a key from her pocket upon reaching the general store.

  you said, “it’s a shame you can’t enjoy the festivities, mrs. oh.”

  “oh, i don’t mind. i’ve lived in this town all my life, i’ve been here, there and everywhere when it comes to the fair,” she mused, unlocking the front door for the two of you. “business is business, the traffic the store will get is more important.”

  a cool blanket enveloped your skin once you stepped in and you were never more grateful for the invention of air conditioning in your life. she was right, though, as you noticed some people nearby the store and already eyeing it.

  “most businesses are closed today, but not us!” mrs. oh smiled, as she turned the sign by the window from ‘closed’ to ‘open.’

  this is how you knew how much jungkook truly meant to mrs. oh. “jungkook is real lucky for you to open late just to watch him,” you said, examining the front counter and spotting a pair of jungkook’s work gloves.

  “the store opens late every time he has a competition. sangwoo adores him and that young man and jiwon are family to us,” mrs. oh mused, seemingly lost in thought, before blinking back into the moment. “ah, don’t mind me. i almost forgot why you’re here, sweetie - the flowers are in the back room!”

  you thanked mrs. oh, following the direction that she pointed towards. jimin called you corny for getting jungkook flowers for your first official date, but you thought it was fitting, given the competition. it was even better with the results of the show and you could only hope that jungkook liked the ones you picked out. you figured that men deserve to get a nice bouquet of flowers at least once, too. 

  the bundle of fresh sunflowers were actually your favourites, but that wasn’t important. you grabbed them from the backroom fridge, wrapped in cellophane and yellow paper. this was when you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket and your eyes widened, hoping it wasn’t jungkook just yet.

  unfortunately, your hopes disappeared, but the text still put a smile on your face - just because it was him at the end of the day.

  are you at the store? i saw you and mrs. oh lol i can be there in a few minutes. 

  you replied yes and came out to wait. the store already had its first customers within a few minutes of opening and mrs. oh was ringing them out. she met your eyes and winked, mouthing some encouraging words to you. 

  with the same smile on your lips, you mouthed a ‘thank you’ to her. 

  although you would have loved to loiter inside the store for the air conditioning, you were already bashful enough from everyone watching you and jungkook at the show and you would have rather met jungkook away from mrs. oh’s nosiness. she was lovely, but she appeared to be one of your and jungkook’s biggest fans and you didn’t want to act awkward, knowing that you were being watched.

  the bouquet was hidden behind your back, as you patiently waited outdoors. you didn’t know what to expect out of your day, but the longer you waited for jungkook, you grew more and more nervous. it was odd, knowing that the anxiety pooling at the bottom of your stomach was because of your childhood best friend. 

  the thoughts were promptly swept away when you caught sight of jungkook approaching you. he changed clothes from his riding gear, sans his favourite dirty boots that remained on his feet, and was now wearing a plain white t-shirt and denim jeans. you always had to take a moment to admire the definition of his muscles and his sharp gaze that left you breathless, but you were distracted this time by the bundle of golden flowers in his grasp.

  jungkook looked a little bit concerned at your expression, as you were stifling a laugh. you almost felt bad, but the sight was too funny for you to ignore.

  “hey - uh, what?” he furrowed his eyebrows at you.

  you revealed the identical bouquet from behind your laugh and he, too, looked dumbfounded. the wrapping and greenery differed from one another, but it was clear that the two of you picked your flowers from the same field by your houses. it was the same field the two of you rode on the past summer and played in as kids.

  “congratulations again for first place,” was all you could manage to say, offering your flowers towards him.

  jungkook finally broke out into a chuckle, shaking his head. “thank you. congratulations, for uh. . “

  “for what? being jeon jungkook’s date to the fair?” you chided, as you took his flowers in your hands.

  “shut up. am i not original or something?” jungkook asked. “like, come on, we got each other the same thing. i’m already failing at this date thing, aren’t i?” he joked.

  you rolled your eyes and flicked his arms. “it’s been, like, five seconds.”

  “ow!”

  “we’re not just on a date today, jungkook. we’re on a mission to win some prizes,” you declared. 

  jungkook tilted his head slightly with a smile growing. “oh, are we?” he paused. “then, am i allowed to hold your hand during this mission?”

  the idea startled you, but you didn’t shy away. nodding without a word, this was the signal for jungkook to pick up your free hand and interlock his fingers with yours. somehow, it wasn’t a moment that sent ringing sensations in your ears nor was it one in slow motion. it was familiar, almost, and felt. . . right. it felt natural, like it was coming home after a long day.

  you leaned in to whisper in his ear, “and thank you for the flowers. you remembered my favourite.” you weren’t even sure how he knew, but you knew that jungkook would only give you a gift with a well-thought out meaning behind them. 

  this time, it was jungkook’s cheeks who reddened slightly. he didn’t say anything else, only squeezing your hand and leading the way.

  ***

  jungkook was tired. you were tired of telling him to suck it up. you had gone two summers in a row without winning a single prize and you were determined to walk away from the fair with at least one thing. albeit, at this point, you ran out of tickets to play games and you knew jungkook had extra, since he received some from his parents, but your grandfather also gave him some. he was your last hope, as you begged him to use the last of his tickets to get you something.

  “hoseok hyung told me these games are rigged. can’t we just go do bumper cars, bunny?” jungkook groaned, as the two of you walked away empty handed from balloon darts.

  you pouted. “no. i just want one of those big charmander stuffies, i know you can win them!”

  “why don’t you play the games?”

  “because i’m bad at them, how do you think i lost all of my tickets so quickly?” you responded, crossing your arms over your chest.

  jungkook grumbled more complaints under his breath, while you forcibly dragged him towards the ring toss booth.

  “hey kids! giving the ‘ol ring toss a try?” beamed the booth attendant, who was the same every year.

  you weren’t entirely sure what his name was, but you and jungkook collectively agreed on calling him “carnival man” and he recognized the two of you each time the festival was in town. though you were about four feet of fury at the time, you had quiet rage against carnival man. you were convinced he cheated you out of getting the xl sized penguin prize last year and you wanted revenge. 

  “kookie will do it!” you exclaimed, smugly pushing your best friend forward.

  “yeah, whatever, kookie will do it,” jungkook rolled his eyes and handed over a single ticket to carnival man.

  carnival man happily took the ticket from jungkook. “it’s nice to see you kids again. you’re always together, huh?”

  “unfortunately,” the two of you said in unison, only for you two to shoot each other identical daggers.

  at this, carnival man guffawed in amusement and gave jungkook his sets of rings. 

  here, jungkook did not win. in fact, he didn’t win you a single thing that summer and you didn’t speak to him for the following day because of it. only a day, though, since carnival man was right - the two of you were always together. you eventually gave in after the first day of silent treatment and showed up to jungkook’s house with your horse, marshmallow, and convinced him to join you by the sunflower fields. he had scoffed, called you stupid, and then without missing a beat, came outside to accompany you.

  ***

  “kookie! and. . .bunny? is that you?”

  carnival man was a lot older than you remembered, but you weren’t sure if it was just the tricks of time playing a game on you. it seemed like everything was so much more youthful and bright in your childhood memories. however, the brightness in carnival man’s smile didn’t falter and it only widened upon laying eyes on you and jungkook. then, his eyes trailed over to your clasped hands together and it widened even more.

  “you remember me?” you gaped, as carnival man took your hand and shook it vigorously. 

  “of course i do! well, i remember the two of you, specifically,” he exclaimed. “i see jungkook here, but i’ll always remember how you two kids came around together every summer! you’re all grown up now!”

  although lines of age creased his smile and streaks of grey contrasted against his black hair, seeing carnival man again made you feel like you were ten years old all over again. the fair seemed so much more larger than life and this moment was one of those moments that reminded you of why you loved summer so much.

  jungkook smiled, “it’s nice to see you, mr. lee.” he appeared to be a bit shy, as the older man was fixated on the sight of you two holding hands.

  it occurred to you that carnival man was never his real name and meeting him as mr. lee felt like a call to the reality in which you were now a grown up. you realized that jungkook continued to see mr. lee at the fair over the years without you and didn’t feel the same rush of nostalgia.

  the only reason why jungkook couldn’t also shake mr. lee’s hand was the abundance of prizes nestled into his arms. the two of you left your sunflower bouquets at the general store - luckily, it was now busy with tourists wanting water bottles or sunscreen and the two of you avoided any gushing or questioning from mrs. oh - and thank god you did because you did not expect to be carrying around so many things. a mini teddy bear, a sheet of temporary tattoos, a t-shirt, some gift cards, and a larger kuromi plush toy that was double the size of your head.

  thankfully, jungkook held onto everything without complaint and remarked that you had no business carrying anything so long as he was there. the funny part was that you two had barely visited all of the games and the only reason why you’d won so many prizes was because you two were competing at each one.

  “and you know i refuse to lose,” jungkook said at the first game, which was a basketball shootout. 

  with the same competitive spirit, the two of you both did very well at each game and walked away with a prize from almost every one. it also probably helped that you were now adults with disposable income and could pay to participate in as many games as you wanted. jungkook had announced that he was ready to make up for his past failrures, never forgetting the summer that resulted in your silent treatment because of his inability to win you a prize. you didn't think that meant struggling to carry around your prizes within the first hour.

  now, mr. lee began setting up the ring toss for the two of you. “so, you moved back to amber valley, young lady?”

  “yes, sir. i’m running the family farm now,” you replied.

  “congratulations, bunny. that’s some hard, honest work, my best wishes to you!” mr. lee said. “you know, i always thought you two had quite a special bond, even at a young age.”

  jungkook avoided eye contact. “mr. lee, you’re kind,” he chuckled, nervously. 

  “i mean it! it fills my heart with joy to see you two here after all these years.” there was twinkle in mr. lee’s eyes as he spoke. “for some people, their universes are stitched together with unseen threads that will always lead them back to where they belong.”

  it was your turn to squeeze jungkook’s hand and neither of you said anything more, only exchanging a look.

  ***

  jungkook wouldn’t stop pouting and you weren’t sure what to do about it. it really wasn’t your fault, you couldn’t help the fact that, like most young girls, you got your growth spurt earlier than your male friend. you were a few inches taller than jungkook at this point and he was deflated to learn that you were tall enough for the rollercoaster, while he had yet to measure up.

  “sorry kid. maybe next year,” the ride attendant gave jungkook a small smile.

  you were disappointed, as well, as you and jungkook had waited nearly thirty minutes in line. all for jungkook to not be able to ride the coaster. you turned to him, who sighed.

  he said, “it’s okay, bunny. you can go on without me.”

  a part of you did want to get on the ride, especially after waiting for quite some time, but you didn’t hesitate to shake your head. 

  “no. i won’t go on without you,” you stressed, to which jungkook looked at you in shock. 

  he shook his head. “no, it’s okay. just go, we waited for so long.”

  “i said i’m not going,” you said, standing your ground.

  instead, you walked off from the front of the line, ignoring jungkook calling your name until he ran up to catch up to you. 

  “hey! what are you doing?”

  “i said i’d go with you. if you’re not there, there’s no point,” you shrugged, as if it was no big deal. “we’ll go next time. hey, wanna go see carnival man and do ring toss?”

  you didn’t wait for an answer, as you made a beeline for the ring toss booth. jungkook jogged up to you and you noticed that he was trying to hide the smile on his face.

  ***

  “jungkook. . .this is the kid’s roller coaster.”

  everyone else in the line was about half jungkook’s size, unless they were one of the parents giving the two of you a dirty look for getting on the kid’s coaster. there was no explicit rule that adults couldn’t ride the rollercoaster, but it was a very popular ride and jungkook had the privilege of cutting the line, as the two of you were given a free “fast lane” pass by mayor kim for being local small business owners.  the fast lane pass was costly and the majority of fairgoers opted to wait in the long lines.

  jungkook didn’t seem to care too much, though. “yeah, so what? you picked the giant swing and said the next ride was my choice.”

  “you’re pissing off the kids,” you whispered in a lower voice, as the attendant let out the last party from the rollercoaster. you guys were up next. “i thought you would want to do the drop tower or something.”

  “you promised me that we could go on the ride the last time we were here. remember, when i was too short?” he casually whistled. 

  “jungkook, that was, like, seventeen years ago.”

  he continued, “and i wrote it for our summer bucket list! you may have never seen it, but i was dying to go on this ride.”

  and that was how you found yourself crammed into a kid-sized rollercoaster at the very front with jungkook. with impeccable timing, it looked as though some of the boys were passing by. seokjin caught your eye first and tapped taehyung’s shoulder beside him, who then got namjoon’s attention.

  “oh my god,” you groaned, watching the three of them wave wildly at you and jungkook. 

  on the other hand, jungkook found this hilarious. he waved back and you covered your blushing face with your hands. you were already embarrassed from the cut eye given to you by the parents in line, now this.

  “have fun, lovebirds!” called namjoon, as seokjin and taehyung proceeded to take several pictures of you and jungkook from afar.

  ***

  “my tooth hurts!” you whined, shoving your cotton candy into jungkook’s hands.

  at seven years old, it was on the later side for you to lose your first tooth. you’d been wiggling it for weeks, but cried when jimin offered to rip it out of your mouth for you. this happened just a few moments ago, before jungkook yelled at him to go back to his mommy. 

  jungkook didn’t seem bothered and was actually pleased to double fist two sticks of cotton candy. “thanks bunny!” he ignored your complaints and happily continued snacking away.

  this was the first year that you and jungkook were permitted to roam around without adult supervision - kind of. as long as you were in vicinity of ten year old hoseok, who was sitting on a bench and playing on his gameboy advance, the two of you were free to play together.

  “this isn’t fair, i’m not allowed to eat anything,” you huffed. your grandfather warned you that any sort of sweet will just hurt and you were better off enjoying other parts of the festival.

  “don’t tell my parents, they said i could only have one cotton candy,” jungkook said, as he observed your sad appearance. “why do you look like that?”

  “like what?”

  “you look sad. it’s ugly on you,” jungkook mindlessly commented and you flicked his arm. “ow!”

  you glared at him. “don’t call me ugly!”

  “i said looking sad is ugly on you. so, don’t be sad,” jungkook replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

  when your expression didn’t change, jungkook sighed and looked over to where hoseok was sitting. the older boy’s eyes were glued to his screen and was now joined by jimin, who was cheering him on in whatever game he was playing. then, jungkook turned back to you.

  “what?” you asked.

  “wanna go watch the magician show?” he asked, grinning. “so you can stop being sad.”

  your eyes widened, as you took your turn to look over your shoulder at hoseok. “your mom said to stay nearby! what if we get in trouble?”

  “i dare you to come with me to the magician show,” jungkook countered, knowing that was the secret word that made you do just about anything. you hated the idea of losing dares to jungkook and had yet to do so.

  you knew you were going to get an earful if you left hoseok’s sight, who was supposed to be watching over you. then, you remembered that, earlier that day, hoseok refused to let you play a level of mega man on his gameboy and decided you didn’t care if you got him in trouble.

  “okay! let’s go!” your features suddenly brightened and you let jungkook take you by the wrist - not the hand because, ew, it was jungkook - towards the other end of the fairgrounds. 

  the cotton candy had already been consumed and jungkook tossed the paper sticks into the nearest trash can, as the two of you quietly giggled about your mischievous sneak-away. 

  ***

  unlike jungkook, jiwon had no trouble tracking down her sibling at any given moment, even with the large crowds gathered for the festival. she also didn’t seem to care that her brother was in the middle of a date, as you were the one to first notice that she was dragging sangwoo by the wrist in your direction. 

  “is something wrong, jiwon?” jungkook asked and there was a tinge of annoyance in his voice at the appearance of the younger girl. the two of you were engaged in somewhat of a flirtatious conversation and jiwon’s premise immediately killed jungook’s mood.

  “hi y/n!” she greeted and then she turned to jungkook wearing a sickly sweet smile. “oppa, may i have ten bucks?”

  “i gave you twenty bucks this morning,” he raised an eyebrow at her. 

  meanwhile, sangwoo was in awe of the amount of prizes in jungkook’s arms. “woah! you guys won all of those?” at this point, there was an addition of a frisbee and a stuffed octopus. 

  “i won most of them,” both you and jungkook said at the same time, resulting in a shared glare. 

  jiwon cleared her throat. “so. can i have ten bucks, please? we wanna get cotton candy!”

  “what did you do with the first twenty bucks?”

  “we went on the teacup ride! oh, and we got rice cakes and funnel cake and actual cake,” jiwon explained and went a little too fast, so you didn’t doubt that the kids did, in fact, consume all that sugar.

  it seemed like jungkook also didn’t doubt it and while you knew he wanted to scold her, you were taken aback to find him letting go of your hand to reach for his wallet in his back pocket. he sighed and, as he was still carrying all of your prizes, merely held it out for jiwon to fish a twenty out of. 

  “only because today is the festival,” he warned and muttered a second part under his breath, “and only so you can leave us alone.”

  you also had the same feeling that jiwon and sangwoo were not going anywhere without their ultimate goal, especially since the former seemed to have the same persistence that her brother had.

  “thank you, i love you!” jiwon declared, handing the wallet back to her brother and planting an exaggerated kiss on his cheek. “thank you, thank you! we’ll leave you alone now!”

  the pair scurried off together, as sangwoo also yelled out his thanks. they ran through the crowd together, giggling amongst themselves. when jungkook took your hand again, you were still lost in thought, watching the two purchase cotton candy from far away. sangwoo handed the first stick to jiwon and the two talked with one another, cheerily enjoying their treat.

  “don’t get me wrong, making sure jiwon is eating healthy is important to me, but today’s the fair. it’s special for her and sangwoo like it was for us, might as well let her off the hook for today.” he noticed you watching them and followed your stare. “they’re cute, aren’t they?”

  “they are. how long have they been that close?”

  “since they were born, basically. they’re always with each other,” jungkook shook his head.

  “do you think jiwon has a little crush?” you wondered aloud, as jiwon shoved sangwoo playfully for whatever joke he might have had made. 

  jungkook asked, “did you?”

  he was referring to the two of you as kids, as it was clear that your shared wistful stares at jiwon and sangwoo were a product of looking back at your own childhoods. two best friends that stood by each other’s sides at all times and grew up together. you had to admit, you saw your and jungkook’s reflections when you looked at jiwon and sangwoo. 

  upon hearing the question, you rolled your eyes. “you wish, jeon jungkook.”

  but, you weren’t entirely sure. adults joked that you and jungkook would grow up to marry each other, just from watching you two play chess or ride horses together. there was a magnetic force that naturally stuck the two of you together, from day one. you cared deeply for jungkook before you could have a comprehensive understanding of what it was like to have love for someone beyond your family.

  “pretty sure i had a crush on you. that’s probably why i was devastated when you stopped coming to the valley,” he casually mentioned, but you turned to him in surprise.

  “were you really?”

  “yeah. you were my closest friend.”

  “i’m sorry,” you said. “you were mine, too. i just thought you would forget about me, i guess. then, i don’t know - “

  jungkook cut in, “- we grew up. that’s what happened, it’s okay.”

  that was the reality of life. it was sad to look back on, but it was overshadowed by the incredible forces that brought you and jungkook back together. never, in a million years, would you have ever imagined standing in the middle of the amber valley midsummer festival with jeon jungkook ever again. 

  “ever since i came back, you became my closest friend again. even with all the weird stuff going on between us,” you admitted the last part with the roll of your eyes.

  although you were just teasing, jungkook’s expression turned serious. “hey, i am sorry about that. but, honestly. . . “ he sighed. “like you said, we became close friends again. and so fast, too.”

  “it got confusing, didn’t it?” you asked, looking at your feet. “when things seemed like it could be more, i kept trying to convince myself that, you know, this is just how we are. we’re friends, this is how we act and nothing more.”

  “you read my mind. you really did,” jungkook said, looking at you with a surprised expression. “i think i always knew, though. from the moment i saw you again.”

  you thought back to the first time you met jungkook again. you remembered how soft his hands were and how he managed to make you smile on one of the worst days of your life. that was just jungkook, though, and his way of bringing sunlight into your life, even when it was raining. 

  “i. . .i think i knew, too. but, i thought you just saw me as the little girl who used to play with you in your backyard.”

  he shook his head. “i thought you had so much on your plate. and, well, i’ll admit, i’ve had trouble even considering a love life since becoming jiwon’s guardian. she’s always come first in my life before anything else.”

  “i don’t blame you, i can’t imagine what the past few years have been like for you,” you said. “but, you were a tad bit stupid. let’s be real.”

  jungkook snorted. “yeah, i know i was stupid. believe me, the last thing i wanted to do was fully push you away. my childhood best friend came back into my life and i had to confront that she was now a strong, beautiful and incredibly intelligent woman that i had feelings for.”

  this was the first time that things were finally being said aloud and it was as if a thousand pounds was being lifted off of your shoulders. you were light, you were flying. 

  “but,” he continued. “i also had to confront that you were still my closest friend, the person who i can turn to when things go wrong. you were my friend who i laughed with and shared things with and i couldn’t lose that. i have the guys, but no one compares to how in sync we are.”

  “i know what you mean. we complement each other in this crazy way. . .” you trailed off. 

  mr. lee spoke about destinies stitched together and things meant to be. holding jungkook’s hand felt meant to be in a way that it was just natural. so did laughing with him and making him dinner and letting him do things for you, simply because he didn’t want you to do it by yourself.

  jungkook said, “do you see why i was afraid of this?” he gestured to the two of you holding hands. “if i fuck this up with you, i’ll lose both my girlfriend and my best friend. if i fuck this up with you, i’ll have let you down during a time where you just moved to a whole new town for a job with all these expectations that everyone has for you.”

  “you don’t have to be afraid of those things,” you murmured, gently placing your free hand on his arm.

  “i’m not. not anymore, when the what ifs and the idea of missing out on something good with you is even scarier.”

  suddenly, you took a look around your surroundings. it obviously wasn’t planned, but the two of you were having quite the intimate conversation just across from the face painting booth and the craft stalls. you tugged jungkook into a random corner, where there was a lone chair in between walls.

  “can you put the prizes down for a second?” you asked.

  jungkook was confused. “huh?”

  “can you put the prizes down so i can kiss you?” you commanded, giving him a pointed look. 

  then, he chuckled and without hesitation, placed your various trinkets down on the chair. you rolled your eyes with a smile and jungkook hooked a thumb on one of the belt loops of your jean shorts, using it to pull you closer. he leaned in, placing his other hand at the small of your back.

  jungkook, too, smiled into the kiss and like everything else, it felt natural. it felt like home. you melted into his arms as you always do, softly kissing back. 

  although you could have stood there forever with him, lost in his touch, you had to pull away. “you scared of that?” you raised an eyebrow.

  “shut up man,” jungkook said, but stole a quick peck from you before he let you go from his embrace.

  you thought you would never stand in the middle of the amber valley midsummer festival with jeon jungkook ever again. the world worked in mysterious ways and you were proven wrong. more so, you weren’t just standing with jungkook. you were a woman standing in the middle of the town that built your hopes and dreams. you were standing in middle of the fair that never shook off its magic, even years later. you were standing with the man who made you realize that home wasn’t just a place.

  ***

  it was safe to say that you freaked out when jungkook showed you what he stole from his dad’s tool box. you were so scared that jungkook had to beg you to not snitch on him and even threatened that he would tell your grandfather that you’d been making him help you complete your chores in the chicken coop. 

  “it’s just a pocket knife, bunny.”

  “it’s sharp! you could hurt yourself!” you hissed, stepping a few feet away from him like he had mad cow disease.

  jungkook sighed and ignored you, walking over to where your sitting spot was. this year, the midsummer festival fell on what was easily the hottest day of the summer. the heat wave was unlike any other you’d experienced so far and you were surprised that the fair was still going on. the two of you had completed just under ten minutes at the bouncy castle before you insisted you needed a break.

  the two of you had found a random tree to sit under, as you split an ice cream float to beat the heat. this is when jungkook said he had “something cool” to show you.

  you had no choice but to leave your grumbles under your breath, finding your place beside jungkook since the ice cream float was in his hand. “you’re hogging it all,” you complained and he handed it over to you.

  “are you done freaking out?” he asked.

  “what are you even gonna do with that?”

  it was as if jungkook was waiting for you to ask the question. “this.” he clicked it open and turned behind him, to the lower part of the tree of which you were leaning on. 

  your eyes were wide, as jungkook began scratching away at the wood. the first letter you could make out was “J” and you nervously looked around your surroundings. it didn’t seem like anyone was paying attention to the two of you, occupied with the festivities or trying to not pass out from the sun. 

  jungkook completed a “K” and moved on to slowly carving out your initials. “so we remember today!”

  “it’s gonna be there forever,” you sputtered. “my grandpa says that trees last forever if no one cuts them down. . .so, since our names are there, we’ll be best friends forever!”

  a toothy grin stretched across jungkook’s face. “yeah! we are. we’re going to be best friends forever.”

  ***

  considering jungkook’s victory earlier in the day, several people stopped to congratulate him throughout the afternoon. he was hard to miss and he was also just a generally well-known person around town.

  that was precisely why you were scared shitless that someone was going to recognize either of you committing vandalism. 

  “you’re covering me, right?”

  “i am, but can you hurry up?” you demanded through gritted teeth, trying to look over your shoulder to see if anyone was looking your way without looking suspicious.

  from the unassuming eye, it looked like you and jungkook were merely engaged in conversation. . .but facing the tree. you were sat cross-legged, turned to the tree as if it was another person talking amongst yourselves. instead, you were trying to cover jungkook carving into the wood.

  you shook your head. “i can’t believe our names are still on this.”

  “we did say it would be forever,” jungkook reminded you and if he wasn’t holding a pocket knife in his hands, you would’ve shoved him over.

  you always remembered that your and jungkook’s names lived on the bark of a random tree in town. there was no way you could forget the scolding the two of you received for defacing town property. 

  “what if they notice? we’re adults now, we could get charged for this,” you said.

  “then we say it was always like this,” jungkook concluded and caught your eye. “what? what are they gonna do, tell my mom and your grandpa?” 

  at that, you did let out a laugh. “i can’t imagine what they’re thinking, watching us from up there.”

  then, jungkook clicked his pocket knife close and scooted over on the grass, as he’d been blocking his work from your view the entire time. he made the initials deeper into the wood, ensuring that it wasn’t going anywhere, and added a heart around the letters. once depicting you and jungkook as friends “4ever,” it was now framed by the heart and shifted its meaning altogether. 

  “they likely made a bet about us getting together and the winner is probably rejoicing,” you suspected and jungkook nodded in agreement, snickering under his breath. 

  your hands grazed over the carved design and you thought back to the moment where the two of you first sat under the same tree. 

  jungkook said, “pretty good first date, huh? scammed some booths out of their prizes, pissed off the entirety of amber valley elementary and we vandalized town property.” he looked pleased with himself leaning against the tree and wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

  with your legs stretched out and the crime completed, you were able to relax underneath the protection of the leafy branches. “mhm, definitely a first date that i’ll never forget,” you laughed, placing your head on jungkook’s chest. 

  the two of you bought an ice cream float for old times sake and jungkook brought it closer to you, so that you wouldn’t have to move. it seemed to be a constant - jungkook doing things for you just because. just because he didn’t want you to do it yourself. just because he wanted to do something for you.

  “i have arms, you know,” you joked, but took a sip regardless. 

  he responded, unfazed, “i know.” 

  the smile the two of you shared confirmed your thoughts. whether you were kids and jungkook walked you home every time just because or you were adults and jungkook wanted to spend his whole day fixing your windows just because. that was just how he was always going to be for you.

  “well, do you know that a first date implies that there’s going to be a second date?” you decided to be bold for once, as all your anxieties evaporated when you accepted that jungkook was both your best friend and a person you held feelings for - a coexistence that you realized was possible and even exciting.

  jungkook scoffed. “second date? did you not see the tree, you’re stuck with me forever.” his joke resulted in you playfully hitting his chest. 

  “did you just curse me with some witchcraft on this tree or something?”

  “rock hard, huh?” he asked, ignoring your accusation and was referring to you hitting his chest. “trust me, i know.” jungkook flexed his arm muscles and although he was kidding around, it was quite impressive and distracting.

  “i’m totally objectifying you right now, by the way. i can admit that now, right?” you smirked. “‘cause i’ve been checking you out for months.”

  at that, jungkook genuinely appeared to be a bit sheepish, his ears first turning pink like they always do. “drink your float, man,” he insisted, using it as a tool to shut you up. you nearly choked from holding in your laugh as you took another sip, which made him laugh, too.

  you sat up slightly, but still mostly laying your body weight on your jungkook, only to crane your neck to see the letters carved onto the tree. the carving waited for you two for years to return. a part of you couldn’t believe that it was jungkook you were stealing kisses and blushing from. 

  “but, for real,” jungkook spoke, now also looking at his handy work. “a second date is nothing when the tree says you’re stuck with me. that means you’re my girl.”

  he held your chin with his free hand so that you could look into his eyes as he declared the last part. jungkook’s gaze was warm and you now understood what it was like to feel butterflies in your stomach. it was always one of those things that you read about in books and couldn’t comprehend. you understood the moon and stars and you understood economics and science. this moment with jungkook was a pair of fresh eyes that opened your heart to a feeling of completeness that felt like it had always been there. 

  “wow, you’re not even going to ask me? this is the worst confession ever,��� you managed to tease, your smile failing to fight the happiness spreading throughout your body. 

  jungkook retorted, “i saw it in your eyes, you were about to ask me first. i had to beat you to the punch, you know i hate letting you win things.”

  “i think i won either way here,” you beamed, placing your head back onto jungkook’s chest. you could feel his heart beating loudly, but he didn’t seem to mind and planted a kiss on your forehead. jungkook wanted you to know how much this moment meant to him, too. 

  your first summer back in amber valley was nothing you expected. your grandfather’s last wishes for you were for you to discover nature and what it meant to make real connections with people. it was a head first journey that you embarked on, all by yourself. yet, months later, you found yourself surrounded by a family you found yourself and the beauty of a town that you thought was forever going to only live in your memories and dreams. you found belonging. 

  jungkook taught you that home wasn’t a place. home was the sunday market with friends. home was doing things you would have never imagined yourself doing, like salsa dancing and paddle boarding. home lived in watching your hard work bloom into something greater than yourself, with each harvest and each morning you spent feeding your animals. home was even a person - a horse-riding man who was unselfish at his core and loved breakfast for dinner. 

  you dreaded the end of the night, as it seemed like the midsummer festival was a blissful magic that you never wanted to end. you could have lived in this moment forever. 

  “goodnight, bunny. i’ll see you tomorrow,” jungkook said, as the two of you stood at the doorstep of the farmhouse. he leaned down and met you in a soft kiss, where he murmured a thank you against your lips for the perfect day you shared.

  there, you realized that the magic didn’t have to end. there was always a tomorrow to look forward to when everyday was a new day to fall more and more in love with your best friend. the magic in the air didn’t even have to end when the last of the summer heat turned into the first chill of autumn, amidst the shifting hues of the leaves. the magic kept you warm throughout the winter and blossomed in the springtime. 

  for the first time in your life, you no longer had to walk away from jungkook come the rain of september. when you were younger, it seemed like the magic of amber valley only existed in the warmer months. summer was a special place in your heart and the memories of your youth, but home was something that stood by you through the changing seasons.

𝐓𝐀𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. @shellyyy177 @myseokjinji @teddybeartaetae @jalexad @sstrongstyle @wobblewobble822 @seokout @taiwan0618 @firelcrds @xwniazx

[haliteatiger]

Happy Werewolf Wednesday, ya'll! We're serving up a big pot of tea tonight so get those cups ready!

Special thanks to Blackbackedjackal and King for their help in putting this together, editing, and especially to Jackal for being so supportive and encouraging. I'm very much not normally the type to do call-out posts, but people need to be aware of Dogblud, as she has hurt, not only myself, but quite a few others as well, and seems to have somehow gotten away with behaving like this for 20-odd years. I'm of the mind she shouldn't be allowed to do so any more, hence this post.

TL;DR - Beware of Dogblud, aka Ashryn, aka DogofBlud, aka ThatDogMagic. Very, very long post under the cut.

With everything happening with DogBlud and Blackbackedjackal's studio, I felt emboldened to come forward with my own experiences with her. This is something I've been carrying around since it happened roughly 2 years ago. It was one of the main reasons that put me off drawing werewolves, my own characters, or engaging any more in the fandom. I've hinted at it a few times but I've never had the energy to come forward and deal with the fall out. I wanted to move on with the rest of my life because IRL was more important than online drama. And I knew her behavior would come back to bite her sooner or later, regardless of what I did. 

It's been very validating to see that I was right.

It was around the time that Blud and I became friends that I was feeling a bit burnt out on werewolves. I'd been trying to pull together my own werewolf-related project for something close to 12 years. The past 4 years had also been pretty draining on me creatively and socially, as it had for a lot of artists with regards to the pandemic. I also had some IRL things I was dealing with: mainly with my marriage and transitioning between medications to manage my anxiety + bipolar.

Unfortunately, I didn't have the foresight to screenshot everything at the time. I do have logs from back when we roleplayed together. There are several conversations in them but because they were saved as text documents, they're pretty dubious in terms of solid evidence. 

It would have been better if I had taken screenshots as it was happening, rather than just saving the logs. With what I *do* have, however, I feel as though it may be enough to make the point that I'm trying to make, and to exhibit how horrible things got.

I'll provide some context.

I had talked with Blud on and off over the years, and we had always gotten along. We had a lot in common and after we had started talking more, our friendship eventually grew into a collaborative project. We were going to combine our stories and write a comic based on it. We had a lot of discussions on how Blud was reticent to do this in the beginning and how she wanted a contract to be made up so that in the event that something *did* happen, we could both walk away feeling like it was handled fairly.

Honestly, I should have listened to the first alarm that went off in my brain, when, in an act of ominous foreboding she said something along the lines of don't be so sure, it could happen. It was in response to me being like "we're getting along so well and share so much of a bond right now. I can't fathom that being a problem!" 

The contract never materialized. It was something we had decided to do *after* we had put together something of a prototype project to see how well we worked together. It made complete sense to me at the time as we were both eager to focus on the fun parts of writing and drawing together.

It was decided that I would be the lead artist (doing coloring and final lines) while Blud would do everything else (which was inking, layouts, and the majority of the writing). The both of us felt that she had more experience in those areas. I also believed that she had a better knack for it as well. I had felt that she had a better understanding of story structure than myself. And I thought that Blud had felt the same way about my art. That I had the experience to take point on that. 

Since I had collaborated with other artists and writers before, I attempted to approach the project with the same sort of professionalism I always do. Especially the projects that I genuinely thought stood a chance of being published in the future. We had started out trying to get a feel for each other's flows and rhythms. I had expected Blud to try and meet me in the middle of where our processes would potentially differ from one another, so that we could develop a fairly smooth workflow.

I had also expected, according to our discussions on the matter, that we would value each other's opinions on things and take them into consideration. We had such good synchronicity already.

In the beginning, there wasn't any unusual behavior that caught my attention. Blud was a bit uncomfortable with trying out new things but I did my best to accommodate her so that our project could move forward without too much turbulence. She had also mentioned to me before that she was autistic, and since my husband is also autistic, I knew how difficult it could be when it came to adapting to new routines. But when it was time for her to deliver the first set of layouts, it wasn't at all what I expected.

What I had expected was something with margins, clearly marked boxes, and figures that I could do rough lines over. I also expected notes that confirmed what we had discussed earlier about the project; that way I knew what she wanted or if there would be any changes. She took offense to this, feeling like I was violating our agreement. Though Blud did try to give me space with regards to the actual art, and while she would offer criticisms here and there, I trusted her opinion as an artist and as a friend. But apparently that didn't go both ways. In fact, Blud seemed to be offended that I expected more from her.

Blud agreed to concede. She suddenly seemed fine with the changes that I had asked for after seeing the layouts. I guess she was feeling overstimulated by the change and I might have been applying too much of a critical tone to her responses to begin with. I have had to deal with rejection sensitivity throughout my life and it's certainly prompted me to approach what people say to me online with a bit of scrutiny (sometimes too much).

And while I was mildly annoyed, although admittedly I was more concerned with Blud's overall reaction to my asking for clarification about several things in the layouts, I let it go. But it seemed like there was a problem. The majority of my ideas were either rejected or outright overridden with Blud convincing me that my faulty memory had made me unable to remember what we had agreed upon. Or that I might have been misremembering in my own favor.

There was one time where we were discussing a monster's design. Blud had already decided to settle on one design that she had come up with, even as I continued to offer other suggestions. The story was to take place in my setting, so I was under the impression that I got to decide what kind of creatures should populate it. The conversation ended somewhat ambiguously. I had assumed that we'd come to a solid conclusion later. 

I came back the next day and it turned out that we were using her design because that was what we had decided on. "Don't you remember? You really need to do something about that faulty memory of yours, Tek. I can't be doing this for you all the time."

At which point, Blud would go back and meticulously scour the conversation until she managed to find a set of lines that would make it seem as though I had 100% agreed. Even when I tried to explain that I had meant something else, she took it as an affront on her inability to understand nuances due to her autism.

I admit that my memory isn't that greatest at times, but I've never had anyone complain about it before. And none of my friends have ever minded providing reminders to me if I did misremember something incorrectly. We all forget stuff at times, right? It's *still* something that I'm self-conscious about because (like a lot of people with ADHD) my memory seems selective at times. This was, apparently, a problem that I needed to manage. 

And even as I'm remembering these incidents to the best of my ability, I've already spent so much time recounting all of this to friends. I feel confident in my recollection. There are some details that may overlap or become entwined with other things, but it all basically tells the same story. Especially in conjunction with what's been said by others. You're free to take it as hearsay since I do not have screenshots to back this up.

I will mention (since I've been told it's something that Blud has taken particular interest in) that at one point, I did have a crush on her. I was having some problems IRL, and it was nice to have someone whom I felt actually understood me. I also felt like I saw a lot of myself in her. I think that, at one point, I did describe her as the kind of "girlfriend" I would want. Blud seemed to indicate the feeling was mutual.

Between our collaborative partnership and all of the details we shared about our lives, it did feel like an intimate relationship at times. I had no intentions of pursuing it. We were not compatible in our romantic and sexual identities, and I had no intention of leaving my current partner for her.

I had begun to notice red flags, even if I wasn't ready to accept them yet.

I've had experience with abusive relationships in the past but they were in person, and not online. I knew what to look out for and yet I was being willfully ignorant about our friendship. I wanted to give Blud the benefit of the doubt. I wanted the project to work *so* badly that I was willing to work with her increasing demands as the months went by.

I had no idea that those demands would change into, quite literal, temper tantrums. It would then trigger my fawning response which was due to an abusive family situation that I had dealt with before I moved to Canada. The tactic was this: concede to someone until there was a time that they either understood reason or I had the chance to use it against them if necessary.

I started to take screenshots. I wish that I had taken a lot more of them so that everyone could get a better idea of what was happening. I did go back and manage to record the majority of the first outburst. It was the first inkling I had that Blud wasn't playing with a full deck of cards. I knew that that would be one of the first conversations that she would promptly delete. And consequently, I was right.

This assortment of screenshots will exhibit the first serious confrontation that Blud had with me. I am absolutely *not* proud of how I handled this. I was literally panicking at the time and doing whatever I could to get her to calm down. Because I have a temper that can look similar to this in person, I knew that I had to wait until the post-tantrum clarity would hit Blud. I tried my best to not lose my own temper in turn but looking back, I feel that I came off as sounding too timid.

I didn't want to ruin this project.

I wanted to make a comic with an individual that I admired and respected as a fellow artist. And, with me not knowing how to respond, my main priority was to not make things any worse than they already were.

Below is the conversation in its entirety:

I had taken this screenshot on my phone after I had stepped away to compose myself. Blud had handled the confrontation and criticism with a reasonable amount of apprehension. But what had not occurred to me was that I could have said something that would remind her of past experiences with a roleplaying group.

It was something that had evidently scarred Blud for life.

I took away the wrong things from what she had told me, choosing to focus on the aspects of the "betrayal" that had appeared to bother her the most. And in hindsight, I did not see the correlation. I was genuinely apologetic that I had hurt her feelings.

But I *will* critique Blud for her poor handling of the situation. Whether or not I had hurt her feelings, no one is entitled to act like this or claim that this is what attempting to resolve a problem should look like.

I wasn't sure on how to initially respond to Blud. It had been ages since I'd had to deal with someone flying off the handle like that.

The following screenshots are where the conversation picked up, after she had already deleted the above message:

We had weathered the "storm" and after Blud calmed down, she was ready to communicate. There was a part of me that was genuinely sincere when I apologized to her. I did mean it when I said that I had no intentions of hurting her and that I hadn't considered how my statement would sound to her.

I had hoped that this had been a stress response due to factors outside of our collaboration. And especially when I took into account how she had interacted with me in the past. I knew that Blud had a lot going on IRL, and that she had already put a considerable amount of energy into this project.

I had taken her meltdown more personally than she could perceive that I would, because this was something that was acceptable to her. She had a "condition" that would absolve her of these abhorrent meltdowns and I needed to get used to them if we were going to continue working on that project together.

I was shaking the entire time we were typing in the chat.

I was sincere in my responses. I really did want to work things out with Blud and give her the benefit of the doubt. I could have been taking the things that she said too personally or maybe I had been reading too much into the situation. Was there a chance that I could have been misreading her outburst? I tried my best to keep an open mind though I was still somewhat baffled by the fact that she would have meltdowns as often as she did.

I confided in my husband and some other friends about the situation. They were also bewildered by Blud's actions.

By this point, I was struggling with the reality that this collaboration was most likely *not* going to work out but I still wanted to try. I still cared about Blud. We would still hang out together and talk about things like music, our characters, or our stories.

While I did have the foresight to go back and screenshot this section, I wasn't fast enough to get screenshots of everything else that I will be going over. Blud *did* admit to going back and deleting certain exchanges due to a mixture of shame; not wanting to look at them when she would scroll through our conversations. 

In retrospect, it was very telling.

And even after that meltdown, I still enjoyed the friendship that I had with her. I kept my guard up but I was willing to make compromises on her behalf if it resulted in better communication between the two of us. Blud made me promise to immediately tell her if I had a problem with something. I also agreed to keep notes of our conversations.

It worked for the most part.

In the end though, it became apparent that Blud wasn't willing to do the same for me (even after we had an extended conversation about it). I then realized that I had been tasked with basically *managing* her autism for her. I was already busy with my supposedly "bad memory" at the time; and Blud was more than ready to scroll back up through our conversations to cherry-pick a line or two of text to remind me of what was said earlier.

Because, for her, circumstances couldn't ever change. If they did, it would mean that Blud had lost control of the situation and that she was in the wrong. She could *not* be in the wrong. 

And if she was in the wrong? It would take solid evidence, three witnesses, and a court of law to prove it.

She had two other major meltdowns after this. I managed to step away from communicating with her through one of them and I don't remember the other meltdown lasting very long. She immediately deleted the texts of both of those instances before I could take screenshots of them.

It seemed like I could do nothing right when it came to Blud, no matter the lengths I would go to accommodate her. I knew that it was a common tactic used by abusers. I finally accepted that our partnership wasn't going to work out and I began thinking about an exit strategy. The final straw was when she began to expect me to be at her beck and call.

I had promised that I would be there for her, within reason, and I was willing to offer reassurances whenever she would ask me for them. The promise had been made back when we had first started to talk to one another with more frequency, before Blud had shown me her true colors. I would end up completely underestimating just how badly she would need reassurance.

To be frank, I underestimated a lot about Blud in the beginning.

I would end up mentioning that I enjoyed my space in several different conversations with her. That there was a chance that I might be offline for several days so I could take care of things IRL and recharge my social batteries. I'm somewhat of a recluse. And an adult who enjoys things that aren't online.

She said that it was fine.

I became incredibly anxious when I would talk to Blud, especially after her somewhat abrupt change in personality.

I then attempted to put my foot down about boundaries and this is what she had to say:

I decided to walk away for a bit and I came back after I had had some time to think things over. This wasn't healthy for either of us. I wrote a couple of sentences to say goodbye to Blud before I blocked her. I knew that my actions would probably infuriate her. She had told me in the past that she *hated* not being able to have the final word... which she was able to do through email:

“And I'm not letting you pretend you have control over the situation, or the high ground. You distinctly have neither. But since you're determined to stick to your 'principles' on this, I've decided to make it easier for you.”

She thought that she was absolved of all sins just because I had said that I would stand by her at her worst. And at the time that I said that, I had no idea that her worst would be her trying everything possible to protect her boundaries while stomping all over mine. It didn't matter what she said or how often she would apologize when I would confront her. She kept doing it.

I admit that I wasn't perfect in this situation either.

There were times when I was condescending, critical, or downright mean when I talked to Blud because that was the way I had felt when she was talking to me. I soon realized that it didn't matter either way. I could have been using the friendliest tone imaginable and she still would have perceived it as either mocking or dismissive on my end. There were even a few times where I would preface my explanations with an advisory “please know that I am not attacking you and try to read this in an understanding tone,”etc. I would then post an explanation I had spent hours picking at to ensure that there was no way she could misinterpret the intent. Even so, she still read the majority of what I said as criticism and would take it to heart.

I never expected Blud to do something that made her uncomfortable; nor did I expect her to overextend herself when it came to our project. I would go out of my way to make sure everything was fine when we would talk about it. I only expected mutual respect in return.

When we would get into discussions (arguments), she would never attempt to understand my point of view or let me explain myself. It would have made it about me when it should have been about Blud and her needs. She sometimes would agree to come to a compromise about something, but only if I would admit that I was in the wrong.

I know that if Blud was to look at these screenshots, she'd be incredulous that I'm trying to distract from the horrible things that *I* did. And those horrible things that I did? I tried my best to work with her.

It wasn't just her poor teamwork that bothered me. It was her attitude and the lack of respect that she showed me. She would never ask me to clarify something that I said; always assuming that it was a criticism against her. I can only speculate that Blud did not want to hear about how any of this was her fault, like in the email she sent me.

I don't know if I was actually her friend at any point. Friends make efforts to understand one another. Ideally, they’d want their friendships to continue, and they would want everyone to be getting along and having fun. She seemed to actively defy that.

I would argue that things like this don't just happen in a vacuum. There's almost always a reason for such things, but it's honestly a mystery to me as to where this vitriol comes from. I don't know why Blud sees monsters in every word, especially if they come from a  "friend". 

I've seen her viscously mock herself during meltdowns; it seems like she hates herself and expects everyone else to hate her too. I think that she wants it to be the truth, so that it validates the feelings she has about herself. The behavior patterns that I'd been exposed to are consistent with the idea that Blud is seeking confirmation about the personal assumptions she has about herself. It's what makes her so volatile to those around her. Yet, she refuses to break the cycle.

I hope that she can make that choice in the future but at this point, I'm not holding my breath.

[d0wnb4df0rf1cm3n]

Exposure therapy.

Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky tends to avoid crowded spaces. He's afraid of something - either being recognised or being trapped or something else. He doesn't know. When you offer to help him get out of his comfort zone. He can't resist.

Word Count: 4.5K

Warnings: Creepy weirdo men (not Bucky), therapy, smut

AN: I'm sorry I make it seem like the Reader hates Raynor, it just kinda happened. Happy Wednesday y'all!!!!

You dipped into the subway, dodging in between passengers - it was rush hour and the subway was disturbingly crowded. You scrambled onto the platform, praying that your train was slightly delayed so you could get on in time. It wasn't.

You stood on the platform as more and more peopled filtered, the noise building to a cacophony of miserable voices. You took a step back, trying to back away from the edge, when a man shoved you through the crowd. You stumbled forward.

A gloved hand wraps around your arm, pulling you back towards the middle of the platform and into a warm chest. You start to pull away, not keen to be leaning into a stranger. A familiar cologne hit you. You’d bought him that cologne. You looked up to see a welcome face.

Bucky.

A vicious scowl was etched into his face, his arm now firmly around your waist. You smile up at him, and he catches your smile, returning it with a soft one of his own. You reach to hold onto his hand as the train pulls up to the platform. You both step on, grabbing onto the bar and jolting as the train gets going.

Bucky leans down to your ear, “You okay, doll?”

His hot breaths elicit shivers all down your spine. You nod at him, unable to push any words out and he looks at your peculiarly. He’s never known you to be lost for words.

You met Bucky once he started his court-mandated therapy sessions. You were the receptionist at the clinic, and you knew Dr Raynor’s reputation for being thorough – although it was your personal opinion that maybe, sometimes, she could take it easy on some of her patients. Bucky was one of them.

You’d gathered a lot from the months that he had been going to therapy. The major thing was that therapy was the reason he was usually in such a poor mood. If he walked in in a bad mood, his mood when he left was positively foul. He didn’t like how Dr Raynor pried – even if that was, in fact, part of the point of his therapy.

You’d gathered that he was quite a lonely man. In fact, when he first started coming to therapy, the fact you smiled at him surprised him. He’d warmed up to it over it, and nowadays, when he came to the office, he greeted you before you greeted him.

You started finding jokes to tell, or little interesting facts – anything to make him smile. You offered sweets to the kids, words of warmth to the adults, and jokes to Bucky. It all worked out. He laughed at your jokes, in the same way the kids enjoyed their sweets and the adults appreciated to the adults.

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky looked forward to seeing you. He was surprised by your smile – but only how beautiful it was. He’d never seen pure sunshine until he saw your face break into a smile. In fact, the sun could go dark, but he knew that the world would only adapt to revolve around you. He knew that his already did.

On his birthday, you were the only person who gave him a present – a rather expensive cologne that you had splurged on. You wanted him to feel special. Turns out you didn’t need to go to those lengths. You were one of very few people who even knew it was his birthday.

Bucky made a point of buying you flowers from time to time after that – and you made a point of hiding them from Raynor. You didn’t want your budding friendship to be another thing she digs deep into. He also wore the cologne every time you saw him, which made you smile. At least he liked the gift.

He got off at your stop with you, even though you insisted he didn’t need to. Something about, ‘it’s on my way,’ and ‘I’d feel better if I knew you got home safe, doll.’ You smiled as he walked next to you, hands tucked into his pockets, leading the way to your apartment. You walked in a comfortable silence, the noise of Brooklyn blaring all around you

“How was it?” You asked, looking up at him.

“Hmm?”

“The subway. How was it?” You knew that Bucky generally got quite claustrophobic. He’d avoided the subway for the first few months of living in Brooklyn and, even now, only took it when he absolutely needed to.

He looked at you, his eyes full of amused frustration, “Could be worse.” He lowered his voice, hoping you wouldn’t hear him, “Was better ‘cause it was with you.”

You smiled, “Call it exposure therapy.”

“Exposure therapy? What’s that?”

“It’s where you face your fears by confronting them head on.” He looked at you, still confused, “You know how you’re scared of enclosed spaces?” He nodded his head, “Well, exposure therapy would put you in an enclosed space – like the subway – to confront your fear.”

Bucky nodded his head, mulling over your words in his head. It doesn’t sound like a bad idea.

You came to your apartment lobby, Bucky following you inside. You told him that this is where you left him, and that you’d see him next week, same place, same time.

You were heading toward your apartment when he stopped you, “You know the exposure therapy thing you mentioned?”

You turned back around, “Yeah?”

“Is that a real thing?”

You nodded your head. Bucky swallowed nervously, not sure how to ask the question. You read his mind, “You wanna give it a go?”

He nodded. You grabbed his hand gently, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles.

“You should probably talk to the professional about how to actually go about it,” you chuckled at how his face darkened at the mention of Raynor, “but I’d love to help you out. Whatever you need.”

Bucky watched you as you disappeared into the stairwell, smiling all the way.

Just like you said, Bucky brought the idea of exposure therapy up with Dr Raynor in his next session. Surprisingly, she was almost immediately on board. She figured that it would be a good way for Bucky to get out of his comfort zone and confront some of his more irrational fears.

He immediately told you. You squealed – a sound that definitely shocked Bucky – grabbing his phone from his hand and adding your number as a contact.

He changed your contact to 'Doll' – not that it was necessary seeing that the only people that ever texted or called were Sam and Raynor. Guess you were another person to add the extremely exclusive club.

The next morning you dragged him to a coffee shop. Not just any coffee shop. The local Starbucks. You drag him in during the rush hour, holding his hand as he grumbles in the line.

"Did we really have to start this extreme?" He says, gazing behind and in front of him. You squeeze his hand, reassuringly.

"You'll be fine. Know what you want?"

You shuffled forward as another person moved out of the line.

The Starbucks worker sighed as you and Bucky walked up to the front of the line. You smiled at Bucky as he gripped your hand, unassuredly.

"Hi - um - can I - uh - get - uh... -" Bucky stumbled over his words. You ran your fingers over his knuckles soothingly, "cold brew - the smallest size."

The worker nodded his head, "that'll be...-" You drowned out his words as you stared up at Bucky's face. His face was still contorted in a grimace, but there was a glint of pride in his eyes. You gave yourself a mental high five.

Bucky paid for his drink and waited as you ordered an iced caramel macchiato with oat milk. Bucky wasn't sure he knew what any of that meant but he looked in awe as you complimented the cashier and made him blush. You had that kind of effect on people.

You grabbed your drinks and went to sit in Central Park, the sun streaming through the trees as you found a bench. You rested your arm next to his, keeping the contact between the two of you minimal.

"You like it?" You asked, staring him in the face. He took a sip and pulled a face.

"Too bitter." He said, sticking his tongue in disgust. You laughed. He celebrated internally, desperate to hear that sound directed toward him again.

"Really?" I thought you would have liked it. You know, given the dark and brooding look you've got going on." You deadpanned. He shoved you gently and you laughed again.

"Try mine," you said, handing over your drink and grabbing his. Yours was much nicer than his, sweeter and more milk too. He smiled in response and took another sip, "Keep it. I like cold brew." He tried to change your mind and hand you back your drink, but you were adamant.

"Let's play a game."

He looked at you, questioningly.

"20 questions."

He turned to face you.

"Rules are: one person asks a question both answer it...-"

"That's not how '20 questions' usually works."

"Well, that's how it works now. Also rapid-fire: you have to say the first thing that comes to mind."

"Ok, shoot." He leaned back, resting on his arm, occasionally taking sips from the macchiato.

"Favourite colour?" You went first, starting simple.

"Yellow," He said, not really thinking. His face blushed when his mind caught up to him though. You noted that for later.

"Mine's blue, like the sea." You responded, staring intently into his eyes. Bucky's eyes were blue, just like the sea on a stormy day. Easy to get lost in. Easy to get found in. Those eyes told you where home was. "Your turn."

"Ok, umm- favourite hobby?"

"Umm, I like painting. Helps me relax. Used to paint a lot as a kid, probably need to do it more often." Bucky stared at your lips as you talked, mesmerised by the way they move. "What about you, Buck?

"Me? Oh, I like reading."

"Oh yeah? What kind of books?"

"The Hobbit. Was my favourite back in the day. Read it with Steve all the time." He became quiet at the mention of his best friend, and you reached out to rest a hand on his.

"You wanna know my other favourite hobby?" Bucky nodded, meeting your eyes, "Helping my favourite super soldier get out of his comfort zone." Bucky's eyes lit up at that.

You stood up, offering Bucky your hand. He grabbed, faking back pain as he stood up. "Where to next, doll?"

"We're going grocery shopping." The groan that left him made you laugh out loud.

You walked into the Target near the compound. Neither of you actually lived in the compound, but this Target was bigger than any of the Targets in the city. You figured the bigger the Target, the more likely it was that Bucky would get out of his comfort zone.

He grabbed your hand and squeezes it tightly. You smiled up at him as you pulled out a trolley. Bucky grabbed it from you, hands tightening around the bar. You linked your arm with his.

"Ready?"

"No."

You smirked, patting his arm, "You'll be fine."

You perused through the aisles, occasionally handing Bucky an item. If you were too short to grab something, he'd reach up over your head and grab it for you. You flushed at that - the feeling of being caged between Bucky made you feel safe. Like nothing could ever touch you.

You walked ahead of Bucky, leaning on your tiptoes to grab some eggs from the shelf. You grab the carton, placing it in the trolley. He looks at you lovingly, your cheeks blushing under his gaze.

"Excuse me, could you move?" An old man shoves past the both of you. Bucky's gaze immediately hardens. The old man continues to grumble under his breath.

He moves to say something, but you grab his hand, shaking your head. Bucky pulls you into his chest, leaning to press his lips to your forehead. Butterflies erupt in your stomach as surprise washes over you. Clearly, his actions caught up to him as he froze up, muscles tightening under your hands. He tried to pull away but you keep your face nuzzled in his chest, arms wrapping tighter around him. You smiled as he relaxed into your hug.

He leaned down to whisper in your ear, "Should we get going, doll? More things to buy."

You nodded but kept your hand in his. He smiled as you leaned into him. This was nice. He could get used to this.

You finished shopping, scanning your things through in the self-service. You didn't have that many items, but Bucky refused to let you pay, whipping out the card that Stark gave him, with the excuse that he didn't use it enough - especially, given the amount of money that Stark had put on it.

You were giddy. Your shopping trip was a success - Bucky now knew that supermarkets weren't even half as scary as he thought. In fact, he even smiled at a worker on his way out.

Bucky helped you load the two shopping bags onto his bike, before strapping the helmet onto your head. You could get used to this.

After that day, you guys went out regularly. You tried restaurants and diners (Bucky preferred diners because it was less fancy and he felt more at home - "haven't changed much from the 40s", he'd said), you tried the gym (or rather, you dragged him to the gym with you on a random Tuesday morning when you had a spin cycle class - it wasn't that bad but Bucky stuck to training at the compound), you even took him to the cinema when they were showing a 'Lord of the Rings' rerun (Bucky almost kissed you when he heard the plan, but restrained himself - there was no way he was scaring you away now).

Therapy with Dr. Raynor became more bearable because it was just another excuse to see you. He'd put more effort into how he looked - combing his hair, keeping his beard trimmed how he knew you liked it.

Raynor picked up on it.

"I see your exposure therapy experiment is going well. What kinds of things have you been up to?"

Bucky stared out the window.

"James?"

He looked Raynor in the eye, before glancing at you through the window in the door. It was barely a shape, due to the frosted treatment on the window, but he knew it was you. He always knew.

"Shopping. She took me to the mall yesterday."

"That's a big step." Raynor said, noting that down with her pen, "How was it?"

"Wasn't that bad. We went into a shop she likes, then she asked me to pick a shop." Bucky looked down at his hands.

You had taken him into Sephora, promising him you only needed to get one thing. You run out of your favourite mascara and just needed to grab a tube. Bucky didn't know what mascara was, nor did he particularly care, but he followed you into the store nevertheless. You picked up the mascara you were looking for but kept milling around, looking to see if anything caught your fancy.

Bucky's hand found yours with relative familiarity, and you pulled him around as you explored. A man from across the shop gave him a sympathetic look.

You left Bucky for a moment to pick up a couple of face masks when the man from across the store made his way over. He patted Bucky on the shoulder amicably.

"Feel for you brother," he chuckled, moving past him. Bucky was confused.

You lined up behind him, mascara, face masks, and some liquid blush that you'd been meaning to get for a while in hand. You paid for the items, wishing the cashiers a good day. When you walked out, you asked Bucky where he wanted to go. It wasn't until you got to the clothes shop that he realised what the man meant.

He'd thought you guys were dating. The thought alone made Bucky want to smile. He gripped your hand tighter and didn't go for the rest of the trip.

Bucky looked up at Raynor and continued, "Then we got food and I dropped her home. Same as usual."

Raynor nodded, "Did it help?"

He shrugged, "I probably wouldn't go again. The mall isn't my kinda place."

"Why? Did something happen?"

"Too many teenagers."

Raynor smirked at that, "Any plans for this weekend?"

"Sam's taking me to a bar. Says we need a post-mission stress reliever."

Raynor nodded, "That'll be good for you, James. Enjoy it."

She stood up to open the door and Bucky followed closely behind. He left, wishing Raynor a good evening, before walking up to you with a smile.

"What can I do for my favourite super soldier today?" You asked, placing the sign-in/sign-out sheet in front of him.

"Maybe consider spending your Friday night at a bar with me?" He asked, nervousness hidden behind his confident facade. This was the first time he'd ever asked you on something resembling a date.

You saw through his front, "Is this just because you don't want Sam to spend the entire night trying to set you up with someone?"

"Maybe?"

You laughed.

"Is that a yes?"

"Sure, Buck. I'll go to the bar with you. Pick me up at 7? I'll send you the address."

When you opened the door to your apartment, Bucky's jaw dropped. He thought he'd died and gone to heaven and you were the angel waiting to ring him in.

You smiled at his awestruck expression, patting his cheek before grabbing your hand and leading him to the stairwell he had just walked up. He followed you like a puppy.

He fastened the helmet tightly on your head, before speeding down the road, going as fast as you like it. You rest your head on his back, arms wrapped tightly around his waist.

You waltzed into the bar together, Sam's status as the new Captain America making it easy to skip the queue. You grabbed drinks - a cosmopolitan for you and an old fashioned for him. You teased him for his choice but Bucky just smiled.

You looked around for Sam, but he was nowhere to be found "Probably caught up doing Captain America stuff," you tell Bucky, whose eyebrows had been furrowed almost since you arrived.

You drag Bucky to the dance floor after two drinks, and you stay there for half the night, waiting for Sam to show up. You dance and dance and dance, teaching Bucky some new moves that wouldn't have been legal the last time that Bucky came out dancing with a girl. Bucky's phone buzzed in his pocket.

He leaned down to whisper in your ear, "Sam's calling, I'll be back in a second." You smile up at him, continuing to dance once he'd left.

Not minutes had passed, when you feel a presence behind you. Thinking it was Bucky, you turn around to smile at him, only to come face to face with a greasy smile. He placed his hands on your ass, and you shoved him away, walking towards the bartender.

"Come on, sweetcheeks. Let us have some fun." You walked through the crowd faster, not looking back. He was still following you.

Bucky. He was outside, he could help you.

You made a beeline for the exit, hoping that the creep was far enough behind you, you could get away unseen. You weren't so lucky. He grabbed your hand and pushed you up against the door, arm pressing against your breasts. The door gave way as you pushed against the release latch, causing you to both go stumbling outside.

Bucky was right outside the door, trying to call Sam back, when you came flying through the door. He instantly pocketed his phone, striding towards you as you backed away from your pursuer.

You bumped into his chest, immediately pulling away to face him. You relaxed when you saw it was Bucky, grabbing his shirt and moving behind him.

"You can't hide from me, you little slut." Bucky saw red.

He grabbed the guy by his shirt and pushed him up against the wall, flesh hand coming up to slap his face. "Don't ever call my girl anything again, you hear me?"

You preened at 'my girl', hoping that it was true, that you were truly and honestly his girl.

Bucky let the man go as a bouncer came around the side of the building. He nodded towards Bucky, who explained that "he tried to grab my girl, chased her out the building."

There it was again. 'My girl.'

The bouncer grabbed the man by the scuff of his neck and threw him out onto the curb. Bucky turned to face you, hands stroking the side of his face. He looked intently into your eyes, searching for a hint of pain or fear. There was nothing. All he could see was love, radiating from your gaze and warming him from top to toe.

You grabbed his face and pulled him down, your lips pressing onto his. He melted into the kiss, eyes closing as he took over, tongue slipping between your lips as you gasped. A small whimper escaped you.

"Doll, you're driving me crazy."

"Take me home, Barnes."

He practically raced from the bar to his bedroom, carrying you up every flight of stairs. He gently rested you on the bed, ripping his shirt and jacket off in eagerness. He crawled on top of you as you reach to attach your lips to his. The kiss is long, messier than before, teeth and tongue fighting for dominance. You pulled away for air, resting your forehead against his.

He kissed you again, excitement pouring off of him, before moving to kiss down your jaw and in between your breasts. He eased your top off, leaving you in your bra, and kissed down your belly button to the top of your trousers. He asked for your consent with your eyes, hooking his fingers in your waistband. You nodded vigorously. He pulled your trousers down, discarding them against the floor. You took off your own bra, throwing it into the pile of your clothes. His eyes were fixed on your breasts for a few moments before he turned back to your cunt.

He buried his face in your clothed cunt, his hyper-sensitive smell craving the scent of your arousal. He teased you with his metal finger, rubbing circles around your clit. You arched up against him, whines slipping out of your mouth.

Those sounds made the blood rush straight to his cock.

He swiftly pulls your panties away, throwing them nearby your trousers. He buried his face between your thighs, nosing at your clit as he licked stripes up and down your lips. You whined, begging for more stimulation, and Bucky happily obliged. He moved to licking and sucking your swollen clit, the ministrations making you shiver and shake as you call his name, moaning loud enough for his neighbours to hear. Your thighs clenched around his head, trapping his face in your cunt. He watched as your squirmed, eyes trained on your pleasure-ridden face. He grabbed your thighs, massaging them under his hands, liking the feel of the flesh of your ass in his hand. He felt more possessive of you than ever. This was his.

His fingers moved to work their way into your pussy, it clenching tightly at the intrusion and overload of pleasure. He moved his fingers in and out slowly, picking up the pace of his tongue on your clit. You arched your back again. He smacked your thigh, wanting to gauge your reaction - you moaned loudly and your cunt clenched around his fingers. He growled out how fucking good you taste and how good you are for him. Your cunt clenched again at his praise.

"Oh, you like that? You like being my good little girl?" You moaned in response, "Oh sweetheart, I could eat you out for hours. Look at how pretty you are shaking and shivering for me."

His fingers sped up inside you, pounding into you. You came with a loud moan of his name and a shudder, collapsing against the bed in exhaustion.

The flush on your face and your fucked out expression made Bucky's cock impossibly harder.

He grabbed a condom from the nightstand, and pulled off his trousers and his boxers, discarding them somewhere. His dick was hard against his abs, tip red and leaking. He rolled the condom down his dick.

He pulled you down to the edge of the bed, flipping you over. "Ready for round 2?"

You nod enthusiastically.

"That's my good little girl."

He slid into you easily, giving you a minute to adjust to the stretch. He started off slow, but quickly lost control, yanking your hips up to meet his relentless thrusts. The super-soldier stamina mixed with the way you made him feel, made him all the more driven to push you over the edge again. The sound of your pussy when he drove back into you made him groan, your tits bouncing at the force of his thrusts. He reached forward to play with them, flicking and pulling the nubs as he pounded into you. You moaned, your face buried into a pillow as he pulled your hips back against his.

Bucky lifted your back up to his chest, rubbing at your clit with his metal hand, the flesh one remaining on your tits. You pulled it up, curling the fingers around your throat.

"Oh, you're a dirty girl." He squeezed a little, loving how your pussy clenched at the oxygen deprivation. You came seconds later, shaking as he kept fucking you through your orgasm, telling you how you’re gonna give him another one.

He spilled his own load into the condom moments later, pulling out and pulling you into his chest, both of your hearts beating impossibly fast.

He helped you clean up, wiping your body with a wet cloth after disposing of the used condom, helping you into a pair of his boxers, and giving you a t-shirt to cover everything else.

"Not that you need to. I appreciate having some eye candy to look at," he said cockily, holding the shirt over your head, just out of your reach

You looked up at him, hands covering your naked tits, "Where's this cocky energy when we're out in shops, huh? Would've made exposure therapy so much easier."

He dumped the t-shirt on your head and shoved you lightly as you burst into laughter, pulling on the t-shirt before throwing your arms around his neck.

"S'only for you. All for you." He said, carrying you back into bed and wrapping his arms around you, "Always for you."

"Love you, Buck."

"Love you too, Doll."

[inuyashaluver]

Okay I think I need more MLT fics because that was too cute for me to handle at 7 AM

nail day - maya le tissier

maya le tissier x reader

description: in which you and your girlfriend have your monthly nail session, resulting in silly arguments and timers being set

warnings: nothing i think, fluffy!!

a/n: your wish is my command, lovely! IM FEEDING EVERYONE MAYA CONTENT WHETHER YOU LIKE IT OR NOT, I LOVE HER ❤️

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and your girlfriend, maya find it hard to be apart from each other. the familiarity of one another’s presence was considered a necessity at this point.

a main contributor to your major codependency is the fact that you both play for england and manchester united. there wasn’t really an option to be separated and that was the way you liked it.

—

you and maya originally started dating when you both signed for brighton & hove in 2018, you were the same age and just stuck together like glue, your friendship short lived until you both started flirting shamelessly with each other.

through endless pining and yearning over numerous dates, you began to date when maya made the first move.

it was a cold day and maya had texted you that chilly morning that she had a little surprise for you. when she came to pick you up for training, she stood at your front door with a warm drink in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other.

“what’s all this for?” you smile, hugging the girl tightly, taking the items quickly before ushering her inside your flat.

“oh just because, look how they spelt your name on the cup” she giggles nervously, fiddling with her hands as she avoids eye contact with you.

your eyebrows furrow but you look at the cup nonetheless, you look down to see maya’s handwriting on the cup.

‘girlfriend ♡’ followed by a little ‘please x’ written under it. the smile on your face was something maya would never forget, it made her heart beat so fast, honestly feeling like a panic attack.

you put your cup down with a big smile and immediately jump on the girl, she catches you by your thighs and laughs brightly when you kiss her cheek repeatedly.

“i’d love to be your girlfriend! you’re so cute” you coo, she smiles up at you and wraps her arms around your waist to give you a tight hug. “you’re the cutest” she mumbles into your shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss there while she holds you to her.

everything felt right in that moment, like a missing piece of you was finally complete. both of you knew, this was special.

—

when you and maya signed to manchester united, you moved in together in a brand new flat, creating a home of your own together. a perfect reflection of the two of you in every nook and cranny.

one thing you and maya agreed on wholeheartedly was that spending time together outside of football related activities was incredibly important to your relationship.

whether it was enjoying a night in or just going out for a stroll, you both loved that quality time of just being together without a care in the world.

one of your favourite activities to do with each other was to get your nails done. every single one of your teammates at united as well as england knew how important nail day was to you and maya.

it was a time for both of you to just sit and chat with a little pampering, you would both make an effort to match in some way. whether it was the same colour or same little design, both of you would be walking out of that nail salon with matching smiles and nails.

did you get teased for it? oh god, like no tomorrow but you and maya loved it more than anything. a subtle yet extremely loud ode to your relationship.

something else you and maya also loved about nail day was your nightly back scratching session. sure it sounds weird but you and maya literally couldn’t get enough of it, becoming part of your night routing no matter where you were.

so much so, it blended into your everyday lives, the gentle scratch of nails offering a comfort the both of you couldn’t explain, it was familiar, it was home.

—

you and maya finally had a free weekend, both of you excited for nail day. the previous day in training, some of the girls were asking what you’re matching set will be this time, something maya took great pride in and asked for opinions to everyone that was willing.

“do you think red or white?” maya ponders to ella and millie, the girls look at your girlfriend with amused smiles as she slings an arm over your shoulder.

“hm, red goes with the kit” ella points out, millie nods along with the girls words. maya thinks about it for a moment, “true, but england camp is in a couple days and we won’t have time to change it so if it’s white then it’s universal” maya explains, at your girlfriend’s seriousness, you begin to giggle.

maya immediately looks down at you with a smile before she realises you’re mocking her, “baby, this isn’t a joke” maya huffs, “i know, lovey” you nod with a sympathetic pout before kissing her cheek affectionately, causing the girl to melt into your touch with pink cheeks.

“but if we’re wearing the away kit, you could also get blue as well” millie informs, this conversation was genuinely so serious and it was so endearing.

maya sighs, she’s frustrated. “shit, you’re right,” she tucks you closer into her side as you all conversed.

“we’ll figure it out, maya baby, don’t stress” you chuckle, reaching up to graze your nails on the back of her hand to ease her worries, maya looks at you and nods before giving you a quick kiss on your lips.

—

you both ended up getting both blue and white nails, maya gives you a satisfied smile when you both interlock hands after walking out of the salon. you both had the time of your life just chatting and enjoying each other’s company while getting your nails done.

when you both got back to your house, you both binge watched a bunch of movies while packing your bags for camp, which was coming up the next day.

giggling and getting distracted by maya wanting your attention. managing to tug you in her lap to lazily make out, you give into her for a couple minutes before you realise what she was doing.

“maya” you scold, she smirks at you while she squeezes your hips, “yes, beautiful?” she kisses your lips sweetly and you physically have to push her away when she keeps chasing your lips for more contact.

“the bags” you point out with a smile, she groans and rests her forehead against your collarbone, nuzzling into you while you remind her what she needed to pack, she tended to be quite forgetful when it came to packing her bag. (you think she does it on purpose to make you do it - spoiler, she does)

“you’re not listening, are you?” you huff, feeling the girl kiss your neck gently, “you sound very pretty” she mumbles into your skin, moving to kiss your jaw and giving you a teasing kiss on the corner of your mouth.

you shake your head at her amusingly, “you’re impossible” you whisper against her lips, kissing her quickly before hopping off her, receiving numerous complaints as you packed the girl’s bag for her. she gave you a big, dizzying kiss as a thank you so you weren’t complaining.

that night as soon as you got to bed, maya gives you a devious grin and you already knew what she wanted. she pushed you to lie flat on the bed while she peeled your shirt slightly upwards.

you let out a sigh of relief when the girl gently rakes her nails over the skin of your back. she kisses your cheek as she scratches your back, smiling at the way you completely melted under her touch. it was incredibly intimate for the both of you, something that you both considered your love language for each other.

after about five minutes, you and maya swap, she hums happily as your nails graze her warm skin. “i love you” she exhales, you kiss her back quickly, “i love you” you giggle at her progressively getting sleepier by the second.

you take your hand off her for a second and she immediately springs up to look at you with an offended expression. “hey! that was way shorter than what i did for you!” maya accuses, throwing you a half-hearted scowl as you look at her with wide eyes.

“it was the same amount!” you laugh, she shakes her head instantly, sitting up to face you in the bed. “no, baby, sorry but you’re wrong,” maya tutts, crossing her arms over her chest as you giggle at her.

“don’t laugh, it’s not funny!” she whines, you nod and place a hand on her thigh, your nails gently scraping the skin there.

you watch her visibly soften for a second before she points an accusatory finger at you, “don’t try and weasel your way out of this, missy” she scoffs, you laugh brightly at her and you can see her fight a smile.

“i’m not laughing” maya grits and rolls her eyes, you can see the corners of her mouth twitching as you laugh at her. “hm, i think you’re smiling though” you grin, moving closer to her and poking her cheek, she moves her head to bite your finger and you yelp as she almost catches it between her teeth.

“nope, that’s it’, we’re setting a timer” maya hurriedly grabs her phone from her bedside table and puts on a five minute timer, looking at you expectantly when she lays back down. “fine” you groan, watching your girlfriend become a puddle under your touch.

after the timer went off, she reset it and you immediately protest. “maya! no, it’s my turn!” you whine, the girl looks at you in mock confusion, “what, no? it’s still mine, look” she shows you her screen and you can see she reset the timer.

you narrow your eyes at her but give in easily, you both would do anything for each other and you both knew it.

“the deal is that you scratch your girlfriend’s back, (y/n/n), be serious!” maya exclaims after scratching your back after her 3 turns, moving to tackle you to the bed, you both lay on your sides giggling and smiling as you just look at each other. the amount of love you held in your eyes told you both everything and more.

she grins lazily at you when you push some stray hairs out of her face, she pulls you closer to her and instinctively scratches your back.

you smile and kiss her sweetly, returning the gesture and falling asleep easily that night.

—

when you both arrive to camp, you’re immediately asked about the results of nail day, maya boasts immediately and shows off to everyone. even showing the media team which has shown to be a new tradition in the arrival videos.

long story short, nail day is essential for both of you and everyone knows it.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you know the drill - pretend it’s you! ily lessiiii

liked by ellatoone and 44,232 others

mayaletissier: don’t let your girlfriend take advantage of you just because she’s cute and pretty, kids

view all comments

yourname: you don’t scratch someone’s back for two seconds and suddenly you’re taking advantage of them

↳ mayaletissier: i still love you

↳ yourname: i’m a saint because i love you more

yourname: you got way more scratches then i did!

↳ mayaletisser: i did not!

↳ yourname: 30 minutes worth!?

↳ mayaletissier: have i ever told you how beautiful you are

↳ yourname: minx

lionesses: these nails were a definite favourite!!

[probablyhuntersmom]

Hunter's Experiences After Belos's Death

Oops, this got long. Aw well, it was really fun to write.

Special thanks to @ashanimus!

This is speculative at the end of the day, but since:

1. This is my fave animated show of all time

2. I grew up with Complex PTSD (CPTSD) like Hunter

3. I work as a therapist,

I thought to list down some things I can visualize happening in the duration of the finale's timeskip, before that beautiful epilogue we saw. And I want to dive in using whatever clues, leads and parallels I can find in canon: to analyze and see how he went from the Bad But Sad Boy to that peaceful-looking palisman carver in the epilogue.

A small reference I had for this meta is Cinema Therapy's episode on the Hunger Games movies (link), since the protagonist, Katniss Everdeen, from the book and also movie trilogy would have the same diagnosis as Hunter. Those books and movies explored how Katniss coped with the frightening and dramatically different landscape that was the calmness of her world post-victory.

Part 1: His Possible Experiences Leading Up to Seeking a Therapist

His disposition could possibly become like Luz's from early Season 3: a state of emotionally shutting down and numbing out. He appeared to nearly head in this direction right after he was revived by Flapjack, as he began to cry. There was that small window where he could have expressed more tears than he did, and have his body shut down under the weight of bereavement.

But the immediate physical threat, Belos, was still on the run. He got up, sprang into action and didn't catch a break from the time he followed Belos through the portal until he stood in The Collector's palace after Belos died (had he even received the news of his 'Uncle' dying yet??!).

Now that Belos isn't around anymore, the Isles will have a completely different feel and rebuilding the land would've taken grueling work after the dismantling of a damaging Coven System.

I was looking at Luz's behavior and gestures in Thanks to Them, which were indicative of her sinking into depression after 1. the horrible revelation in Hollow Mind that she unintentionally helped Philip. 2. witnessing Flapjack's death. I'm putting screenshots of her below in parallel with Hunter's own emotions in For the Future:

They have different mental health conditions if you talk symptoms, e.g. Luz doesn't show signs of CPTSD hypervigilance, while Hunter doesn't have that slowing down in his physical and mental activity which points to depression. But both have suffered from moral injury thanks to Belos's violence and manipulation.

However, a major comparison is that Hunter has had much more repressed emotion over a long period compared to Luz. The column with Hunter screencaps above, is what he may feel with a much higher intensity in the weeks and months after he first hears that his abuser has passed on.

Shown below, the few seconds of Hunter's big smile drooping when it was all over, was a big hint for me:

A hint that there is a deep undercurrent of emotions he'd much rather not feel, that he'd probably rather hide from himself. Even while smiling, we know how his heart-wrenching story has played out and the light in his eyes here doesn't match the brightness we see in his expressions in the epilogue, post-timeskip.

That is the face of a kid who has not cried out massive amounts of tears yet. He doesn't look like he's carrying a light load yet, compared to what we see in his future self. And it's certainly a heavier smile than the jollier one he makes here right after King's Tide when Flapjack was still around:

I can't imagine the amount of grief that his body has yet to dredge up and release, once he finally doesn't have to worry about his 'uncle' threatening his life anymore. Too many times to count, I've been in the situation where I cry intensely after being retraumatized and think "Huh? More tears? Where did it come from?? I thought I had cried it all out from my whole being the last time!". It kind of convinced me that anyone with CPTSD has so much grief stored up in their body that the number of times needed to have a good cry feels like a really endless expanse.

However: because I had 7 years of being in and out of therapy, what matters is that the durations between these episodes of mine, the durations of the episodes themselves, plus their intensity have reduced a lot. It was around a 4-year timeskip in the finale, so for Hunter to get as far as he did to heal, his own therapy sessions would've probably been rigorous and very consistent.

Anyway, he might now cycle through his own version of what Luz cycled through when she gradually shuts down from failing to build a new portal door in Thanks to Them, continually believes she's as bad as Belos, and when she alludes to her suicidal ideation in the classroom:

whereby there is a likely parallel between Luz wrestling with guilt from her own moral injury, and Hunter's own guilt from what he wished he could've done to prevent being possessed, to prevent Flapjack from dying. Both their situations are that of moral injuries.

The adrenaline rush would be over for everyone on the Isles.

I'm quite sure the therapists on the Isles will operate pretty soon after the news about Belos's death was out. They would conduct whatever version of mental health triage they have, that involves risk assessments and crisis counselling. Both of these based on what I've learnt are shorter in duration (30 minutes) and are one-off sessions, compared to regular talk therapy which is an hour minimum.

The therapists would be redirecting people to necessary resources e.g. where to find food or loved ones, and managing distress only related to people's immediate needs instead of forming a longer term plan for several weekly sessions.

I believe things are simpler when you are running away from an external threat, like the two Hunter scenarios below. In Hollow Mind there is no emotion on his face because in peak C-PTSD mode he has shut down his emotions to pour that energy into escaping Belos. In Thanks to Them, he appears quite obviously scared with widened eyes because he got comfortable with safety for months and Belos's return was a surprise attack (thanks ashanimus for pointing out to me how his expressions are animated!):

But what is there to run from now? Not an external threat for sure. The war zone is now the one in his mind, heart and soul and it would become front and center. I believe both these screenshots are two notches on a dial, and the missing third image - which would show him finding it difficult to stuff down the grief any longer, might look like a more exasperated version of when he told Willow "Please don't call yourself [a Half-a-Witch] ever again" in For the Future, and eventually a more depressed version of his vanishing smile in The Collector's Palace.

When can he really run from himself? Only while asleep, if he's spared nightmares on any given night, or while distracting himself with the main mission of rebuilding the Isles or continuing to bond with his friends and other people.

His anger in For the Future was a telling sign for me that he made sure his focus was still on an external threat: he still had the opportunity to do so back then, because Belos was still alive. But when we see him in The Collector's palace sending Willow off to her dads, there has realistically been a shift in what will threaten the more fragile shreds of inner peace he's still clinging on to. There are those scary trauma-related emotions to worry about, which wouldn't have just evaporated into thin air. They would be looking for a new outlet, and they'll find their way into flashbacks, nightmares, tension still stored in the body, an exaggerated startle response, etc.

We have seen a range of reactions he has to danger, triggers and emotional pain: some involve moving his body more, and fewer involve a short of shutting down:

Flinching during Belos's tantrums, being able to fight Kikimora calmly, freezing up in the throne room (Hunting Palismen)

Suicidal ideation and even a sort of suicide plan (Eclipse Lake)

Freezing up and expecting punishment from Darius (Any Sport in a Storm)

Being able to stay almost entirely calm as he learnt more and more of the truth about Belos, though his hand was shaking briefly, then a panic attack later on (Hollow Mind)

Lots of avoidance symptoms like numbing, combined with hypervigilance e.g. shivering and another panic attack (Labyrinth Runners)

Feeling fear with underlying shame and subconsciously expecting punishment, when he failed to save Luz (Clouds on the Horizon)

Freezing and recoiling, though he fought against this by asserting a boundary with Belos (King's Tide)

Panic attack when looking into the mirror and having an emotional flashback, hypervigilance e.g. stamping his foot and shivering (Thanks to Them)

Anger and rage to cope with bereavement, later being tearful (For the Future)

Most likely a sense of bereavement, deep exhaustion and possibly loneliness, during that briefly shown moment in The Collector's Palace (Watching and Dreaming)

The serious work he has to put in to heal from his trauma would begin once his whole body gives in to the exhaustion, catching up with the bereavement-related emotions that have also begun to settle in. It could be a massive emotional and physical collapse that he can't fight off, where his physical energy levels become tanked seemingly out of nowhere. And I think it would look like a worse version of him lying in his makeshift grave, where he is barely able to move around the house or anywhere for some time.

This happened to Katniss in the Hunger Games trilogy, and while the portrayal was done differently in the books and movies, both were good explorations of what it's like to shift from the default high alert (and long-term) mode of CPTSD to coping with the scary unknown world of newfound safety. Katniss spent her childhood in poverty and being constantly on edge that she might be chosen for the Hunger Games, being parentified, to provide for her family.

While participating in the games, she had to utilize battle skills and kill others to survive and sustained many injuries, still constantly on high alert whereby any respite would last for incredibly short durations. Towards the end of the story, after she loses the one she loved most (her sister Prim, who I think can be a parallel of Flapjack in this meta), Katniss shifts from peak physical activity into mostly sleeping and being actively suicidal for months, hardly moving and not leaving the house, until the shock of traumatic grief began to wear off. She absolutely crashed and went from one extreme to the other. In the movie Mockingjay Part 2, they added a non-book scene where her grief comes out in an outburst when she sees their pet cat hanging around on the kitchen counter. She flings an object in the cat's direction, then screams "[Prim] is gone!!" repeatedly before collapsing into heavy sobs, picking up the cat and holding it to her chest to soothe herself.

This kind of major collapse might happen very soon to Hunter after he leaves The Collector's Palace or only after some weeks. The timing of this, I can't predict. The reason why he didn't appear to have this issue in the early months being in the human realm is because there was still something external to concentrate on: help his friends get back to the Human Realm, help Luz reunite with Eda and King, while him and Flapjack hoped to go home too.

You could argue that even now, he still has something external to focus on i.e. helping the others rebuild the Isles. However I keep imagining that the people who love him are going to be quite adamant in getting him, Luz and the other kids to please rest. Since we saw Steve recommend his therapist to Lilith in O Titan Where Art Thou, I can picture the adults in particular monitoring how Hunter is doing without Flapjack.

But if this collapse I'm speculating about doesn't happen so soon, he would be pouring himself into helping others, referencing his character-centric line all the way back in Hunting Palismen about wanting to offer help, which he utters twice in that episode. There is an overlap between this expectation he has of himself and the old habit he's at risk of falling back into periodically: overworking.

Once his desire to help others is clearly comes across as an avoidance tactic on the outside - a maladaptive coping mechanism to run from the very difficult emotions that he should be processing - people around him are definitely going to set boundaries and say "No" to any attempts he makes to assist them. Someone is probably going to tell him that whatever desperation he is showing in wanting to help other people, needs to be redirected at himself. Making time and space for himself, taking time off to rest.

Him suffering from a major emotional and physical collapse is pretty likely because things are more complicated (though, physically much much safer) for him now than at the beginning of Thanks to Them when he had just fled from Belos to the human realm, and had Flapjack as his closest company. Fast forward to the victory won in Watching and Dreaming: both Flapjack and Belos are gone now.

It's telling that different thoughts are occupying Hunter's mind now, from how his expressions are drawn during his first days in the human realm vs. when peace is restored in the Isles.

1. See the sense of calmer urgency in his expression, putting the mission of building the portal door first, while experiencing a strong sense of togetherness with his friends, and learning to trust Camila who is treating him well:

compared to

2. the sheer exhaustion and feeling of "What now...?" (see his upper eyelids below?) that set in, once he helped Willow find her parents and there was no more task at hand that didn't involve himself. His bright smile from a split-second ago has drooped and disappeared:

I know that right after the above frame, Darius and Eberwolf reunited with him, but his emotions are going to cycle up and down in the hours, weeks and months ahead. The elation from seeing Darius and Eber - people who were there to greet him when he expected nobody to turn up - is not going to last, though it will certainly come and go, because high-running positive emotions like that don't last as long, especially in the context of the life he's had as a child soldier. It's totally possible that on the same night, hours after this reunion with their loved ones, their emotions will shift drastically.

The tired look in his eyes above and the sad face he then makes, is in between two moments of him having something external to focus on (Willow and then Darius). I'm inclined to think that the above depressed look reflects a lot of the complexity that is going on underneath the surface. What is his state of mind when alone with his thoughts, when he has zero tasks to perform? How is he handling those thoughts?

There will be a deep, sometimes mind-numbing sense of bereavement over two significant figures in his life. First Flapjack, now this:

He used to love Belos. But I'm really not sure he can just uproot that love from deep within and discard it. Hunter carries memories like the following ones around which will be confusing to navigate on tougher days, despite being able to tell Luz "That's what Belos does, he tricks people". Because these were his formative years:

and something tells me that Philip was cunning enough to strike a delicate balance between being 'nice' to Hunter like above, versus unleashing his violent temper to terrify and harm him. Making sure that balance was so close to 50/50 that it would leave a child very confused. So confused he would rather believe he's never good enough rather than the more frightening prospect that his so-called family does not actually love him at all.

Hunter will have a moment now and then of still missing the 'niceness' that his 'uncle' showed towards him (felt in his heart and subconscious), while still knowing (in his head, rationally) that Philip was not genuine when treating him that way.

To note though, he did not witness Belos's death which reduces the severity of intrusive images that the poor kid would see in his mind.

What I'm worried about is how he'll handle the news about the grimwalker graveyard, since I'm sure that location is going to be scoured and Darius would want to give his mentor a proper sending off. They'd want to give all the Golden Guards and Caleb a sending off and pay their respects. This might add to what I suspect will be the messed up depression he'll fall into.

It will be very confusing and emotionally disorienting, literally not needing to worry about anyone killing him anymore. He has had no point of reference for this in his life at all. It might possibly the furthest he ever goes from that primal survival instinct he had while living in the Castle for so long, which took up the majority of his life so far:

There will also be the added layer of how he feels about those first emotions. This is literally a concept called Feelings About Feelings and it's a key part of my work since I use the Satir Model in my style of counselling. We don't just feel emotions, we also tack on our own judgments and evaluations about them. E.g. shame about feeling anger, guilt about feeling sad because of burdening others, or even a combination like fear about feeling joy which can show up in healing from bereavement.

Depending on how we feel about whichever emotions got there first, it makes a difference because we could be adding or subtracting unnecessary suffering from the first emotion, especially if the first emotion is an already unpleasant one.

I have a feeling that we'd see Hunter look very very tired, till he makes breakthroughs in therapy. A tiredness that sleep, a healthy diet and exercise alone simply cannot fix. Because there's an entire upbringing in the Emperor's Coven to sort through in his head, this time not combined with the avoidance of having fled to the human realm and living under one roof with his friends.

The Hexsquad are not living under the same roof anymore, they are reunited with their own families with much to emotionally talk out, and the group no longer has a very urgent single collective mission. Sure, Hunter has an active role to play in rebuilding the Isles, but what about rebuilding his very self? He has the steepest climb, because we have seen the symptoms he exhibits.

Most of all, referencing a section of my Retraumatization and Self-Soothing (Part 1) meta (link), a memory as horrible as this:

will likely be the most intrusive image is going to be replaying again and again over the months to come, and it may flood his thoughts during moments of being triggered or even out of nowhere during quiet moments for no apparent reason. It will be just like a broken record, where the same small excerpt of a song loops endlessly until the needle of the gramophone is repositioned.

It was remarkably poignant that his final words to Belos were "And most of all, I'm going to make sure you never hurt anyone again", and I'm happy with the story keeping it this way and understand why the writers likely made this decision - not just because the season was shortened. Hunter did not need to directly see or hear more from Belos in close quarters, not after his abuser minimized his needs for years, gaslit him, possessed him and got him to murder his best friend with his own hands.

It's more straightforward to make sure someone else isn't hurting anyone. It's easier to think of what plans to implement, when it comes to him protecting others: which he has had plenty of practice with. Because those are practical methods that we can see in action on the outside.

But here's the kicker: what about applying that last grand statement from his TTT speech to himself, emotionally: making sure he isn't psychologically hurting himself with harmful unhelpful thoughts and beliefs, after Belos's death? "I'll make sure I don't hurt myself (and by extension, my loved ones) again".

This will be very new to him, and it is a theme that I handle in pretty much every client case in my therapy work. The client's self-dialogue, the self-compassion or lack thereof. Which, in real life, is often not a concept that our own families and schools introduce to us to be familiar with.

For Hunter, this may translate into him making the decision to get help and truly accepting the gift of life that Flapjack gave him.

Basically this on a much bigger scale:

whereby in Flapjack's absence, he can truly believe in this new and positive fundamental belief about himself. The evidence that he managed to make it to that heartbreaking but incredibly beautiful place is pretty strong:

But before his happy ending, the pressure on himself to be useful to others via helping and working is likely going to come back and be used as his way of coping, and there's a chance it will cross the line into becoming a form of self-harm that he's relying on to avoid the frightening, deeper emotional pain. People around him know him well enough that they'll be able to spot his behavioral changes and then sense he is not going in a helpful direction. They'll see that it's hurting him even though it's the most familiar territory for his mind to be in, and someone is going to tell him to change that.

He's going to be seeing his friends with their palismen. How will it be like being among them, even if they are pretty good at supporting him? How would he attempt to make sense of the void that is the absence of the incredible love he experienced from that first friend, the absence of that mental link between witch and palisman?

What emotions could be lurking beneath the surface? Believe it or not, there are some signs from Luz's nightmare even though yes, Hunter was being controlled by The Collector. I wouldn't quickly dismiss this dark Flapjack-related scene as 100% being about The Collector's goal to scare Luz in the nightmare.

I think there was a smaller subplot going on as well.

The Collector needed material to work with in the first place, to perform the puppet acts: the material was whatever fears and whatever pain was already there in their targets.

The Collector didn't create Hunter's emotions from scratch for the puppet act; instead he manipulated and redirected what existed at the base level. All this wouldn't work as analogies of mental illness vs. mental health if The Collector could just engineer emotions on their own and simply replace whatever his puppet targets were already feeling. Emotions never vanish and always take up space somewhere, they are redirected, transformed or channeled into outlets even if it means they become repressed or locked away. But they never stop existing.

I have a feeling that despite the nightmare being Luz's, despite Hunter being used as an instrument for The Collector to achieve their goals...the pre-existing emotions that Hunter himself felt in his body, not puppet!Hunter's verbal responses towards Luz, were true. He is a haunted boi.

This face he makes above might be a hint at the worst of his pain. It might be the furthest he has felt from when he said "I like who I am right now" to Flapjack. In the place of that confidence from before, there might now be his own version of Luz's "I'm as bad as Belos". I cannot be entirely certain, but the negative belief that may have taken root in him could be "I am not deserving of the life Flapjack gave me".

Interestingly, if this is the case, it could easily parallel his line from all the way back in Any Sport in A Storm: "I'm unfit to wear the sigil of the Golden Guard." It's definitely a possibility, since Hunter is now faced with having a lot of time and space now, and less urgency than he's ever had in his life, to think back on all those times he helped to further Belos's cause. Especially when it came to sending many palismen to their deaths.

With his own palisman now dead, the engraving we would eventually see on Flapjack's grave: "Thank you for finding me", would be the destination. But the journey needed to reach that destination of amazing gratitude in the first place...must have been a harrowing one. In the early months of the acute grief, it would've been more like "Why did you have to find me?! You shouldn't have. Then none of this would've happened". Not forgetting the number of times Hunter has replayed in his head what he could've done differently, trying so desperately to rewind the clock and make that better alternate timeline a reality.

If you remove The Collector and even Luz from the equation in the Luz nightmare scene, Hunter may well be having such responses - the ones that puppet!Hunter directed at Luz to blame Luz - as a dialogue with himself. He might direct those negative emotions towards himself since he's so careful about hurting others and has taken on unfair punishment for so much of his life.

Even when he was temporarily himself, smiling, expressing a positive emotion to encourage Luz with "What's the first thing you do when you wake up from a bad dream?", that was him conversing with another person, someone external. Not his own self. I am willing to bet he wasn't at a point in his arc where he would smile at himself like that and easily encourage himself in the same way.

While we can be certain he had already reached his breakthroughs by the time we saw him post-timeskip, he has not experienced them yet in the frame above. He has not felt (yet) what Luz felt onscreen when she had breakthroughs in relation to her moral injury:

Taking a leap of faith to accept the Titan's gift, to trust that he chose her because she has a good heart and will never be Belos.

Then later, being able to stand firm, believing she truly is good ("I am the Good Witch Luz!"), and not uttering a word to Belos as he died - which was post-traumatic growth beyond how she broke down under his threats and manipulation towards the end of Hollow Mind and later in King's Tide.

Recap time. In the (quite likely) long period that passes by before we meet his new palismen, he's likely going to want to jump into action and attend meetings with Darius, Eberwolf and co, help to physically rebuild things and organize people with his own Coven Head experience. Leaning back on the ingrained and familiar lifestyle of pouring himself into work and gearing towards burnout is certainly a risk to watch out for.

The Hexsquad, CATTs and the Clawthorne sisters are going to notice his behavior and likely urge him to get appropriate rest and seek help.

However, there is the other extreme: Belos isn't around anymore to torment him, and Hunter would know this in the rational sense (head knowledge). Which leads to the possibility that he may swing towards shutting down as opposed to overworking tendencies. He would feel allowed to do whatever he wants, in this new Boiling Isles, and he had months of opportunities to do that in the early part of Thanks to Them before Belos's return.

What I'm getting at is, if he didn't sleep enough before, he might swing towards sleeping too much after finally collapsing from the familiarity of survival mode into unknown but genuinely safe territory. If he cared too much about helping others before, he might swing towards a depressive state of apathy (the closest canon reference point would be him digging his grave: he was very disarmed in that scene to even think much about helping anyone including Belos). This is why the screenshot I used of his smile drooping in The Collector's Palace, feels like a big clue to me. This would be where Darius, Camila and other adults have to seriously keep watch over him.

In the Cinema Therapy episode I had as a small reference for this post, the licensed therapist who hosts the series mentions that "It takes a lot longer to put oneself back together than it took to fall apart." In Hunter's case, the "falling apart" period here refers to that collapsing I mentioned. It would be the time between:

1. the grief hitting him in full force: when he subconsciously understands and acknowledges that Flapjack isn't coming back (which...will involve hell of a lot of wailing and sobbing. Him having a full version cry of those first few tears he shed at the end of TTT),

and

2. the time when the painful shock from feeling the full force of the grief has decreased enough that it plateaus.

This falling apart stage may need to pass before he seeks therapy. If he tries going for sessions while still going through that shock and pain, it might be too much for him.

As terrible and sad as it sounds, a deep dark spiral like this might be necessary. It would be his body and mind wanting to compensate for several years' worth of unnatural hypervigilance which wasn't serving him in a advantageous way (i.e. surviving) any longer. His body and mind begging for rest at last, to try and make sense of everything that happened. This big collapse into depression would empty out the old and free up much room in him for new stories, beliefs and perspectives to take root. Depression is, after all, the body's attempt to (maladaptively) try and protect us by numbing us, or else we would be overwhelmed.

As someone whom we know keeps himself very busy, this could be the period where he is the furthest he has ever been from that old simpler life. Because his CPTSD-ridden body would be demanding more than ever that he compensates for a childhood and teen years' lack of general rest, he may not even have the strength to cope the way he did before. The only way he might possibly cope in this period is to go with the flow of that raging current and do exactly what his body is asking of him: getting real rest.

Like what happened with Katniss in the Hunger Games trilogy, this early grieving stage would emotionally be difficult and terrifying, like walking along a tightrope, finding balance between left and right to angle yourself as straightly as possible and walk forward. (the tightrope metaphor is what I use with some of my clients to explain swinging between extremes of coping mechanisms).

The missing pieces of the puzzle in his arc, in the 4-year duration before the timeskip, might be his own version of these points in Luz's arc:

where she sank lower before she realized her deepest wish and emotionally experienced her worst fear in her Watching and Dreaming nightmare.

For Hunter, these could look like the following:

Like Luz saying it'd be better for everyone that she permanently stays in the human realm, Hunter might say he wants to remove himself from his loved ones in some way, for good. Whether a literal suicide attempt (like Katniss from The Hunger Games) or not, I can't say for sure.

A parental figure trying to reach out to him, saying he is deserving of Flapjack's gift. But he still struggles to believe that. What matters though is this parental figure is present and he's not pushing them away.

Him hearing some confirmation of his deepest negative belief about himself, in his own nightmares. Like Luz hearing the most terrifying things she could ever hear - Amity's "You've been the real villain this whole time" and "But for the sake of everyone you hurt, I challenge you to a witch's [duel]".

Him being able to reach an emotional space where he can begin to question that unhelpful belief: "Am I really deserving of Flapjack's gift?", or something similar.

The big moment when he finally tells someone how he really feels about the possession, Belos's death, Flapjack's absence in this new supposed peace and quiet....this would be the important invitation for the other person to connect and meet his emotional needs, and is a lot like how support groups for addiction work: a client needs to acknowledge that they are struggling with a problem, not avoiding it with distractions any longer, and then seek help and express their need for said help.

I suppose the question is how soon Hunter might decide to accept professional help and give it a go: or whether he'd have the genuine need for space first and say "I need some time". Because one's rational mind can be ready to go for therapy, but their subconscious and body would find it too unpleasant if it's too soon. Every part of him would have to be ready to begin putting himself back together after the falling apart stage occurs.

The messed up experience of CPTSD is that you stay shockingly calm during real danger, but on the flip side have big, disproportionate freakouts during actually safe times. Compare how calm Hunter was when he smiled at Luz in her nightmare while he was tied up with puppet strings vs. his fear and shame when he couldn't save Luz in Clouds on the Horizon. 

In a CPTSD memoir I read, the author describes that it was horribly frightening to hear her partner be in a bad mood and wash the dishes more loudly than usual, while during the pandemic, she felt completely calm seeing empty shelves in a supermarket when she struggled to get supplies.

From my own experience, I have experienced being pretty damn calm when bleeding out and needing hospitalization. But in a different year before that, I recall one afternoon alone in my house right before a vacation where a strong gust of wind very loudly slammed an open door shut next to where I happened to be standing, and I broke down sobbing from a retraumatization via an emotional flashback. Because it felt extremely real as if my abusive parent was lashing out to physically hurt me. 

After a 5-year period of mostly being in talk therapy, and then a 2-year period of regularly scheduled EMDR therapy, my response if I have a door loudly slam shut near me now would maybe be a smaller-scale flinch and a flash of anger that would last about maybe a minute. Which is miles better than sobbing for half an hour and being dissociated and frozen in a memory for hours before I thaw out of that flashback.

Since the show's writing is just that good, I could look at Luz's depressive symptoms manifesting in Thanks to Them and see a likely parallel in Hunter's story moving forward, since we know how much this show also digs neat and tidy parallels. These are characters written for TV after all, so they'd have to fit a formula to an extent, to have compelling arcs and reach high and low points along said arcs.

Part 2: Therapy Itself

Part 1 was the setup to give a good amount of context: now for the technicalities of the therapy sessions themselves:

Like Adrian Graye said in Labyrinth Runners, Illusion Magic can sort through memories. We have seen from Gus's own powerful Illusion abilities that he could do so with Belos. It makes sense that a therapist does this in sessions to have a magnified version of how in our world, therapists exercise empathy by imagining what it is like to be their clients:

I would monitor whether his mood (what he is feeling within) and affect (how the emotions appear on the outside e.g. tone of voice, face expressions) are congruent. Congruence usually means a client is in less distress. Incongruence might mean they are in so much pain that they can't connect directly with the main emotion: the perfect example of this being Hunter laughing when digging his grave.

We therapists take note of aspects such as affect, mood, the client's motor activity, any indicators of psychosis, even down to things like how untidy their hair looks in case we get clues about the severity of their issues (this is called a Mental Status Exam, and we write what we see in our case notes per session).

Because CPTSD is so relationship-centric, I'd discuss how he's getting along with new parental figures (the Belos replacements who will heal him so much and change his life forever!) and friends.

If the Boiling Isles therapists use their own equivalent of EMDR therapy, which is theorized to be like a waking version of how REM sleep and REM-related dreams help our brains to sort through memories, it sounds like a great fit for his case. This intervention involves subconscious work and could help him reshape how he experiences memories of Flapjack and Belos. EMDR clients are expected to see vivid images popping up without control in their mind during the sessions, and they are quite symbolic e.g. seeing a grey sky often indicates grief, seeing lighter colors indicates more calm. This technique helps a client's subconscious rewrite their story the way they'd like it to be, and install new positive beliefs and emotions over time.

My own example of EMDR experiences from the second half of 2019 as a client, is it majorly changed how I related to my own abuser, got me to finally feel allowed to emotionally break away from her, even though she is still alive and even lives in the same building.

In the early sessions, I saw an image of my 5-year-old self being forced to wear an ugly grey apron that my abuser used for baking. The apron is a real object, not fictional, and the emotions I felt showing up were matching with the image: feeling very uncomfortable seeing a visual representation of my abuser's hold over me.

But in a later session after a few months, guided by my therapist, I saw a vivid image of my abuser receiving a sea burial. She was lying peacefully on the water surface and sank down until she was gone. That was me subconsciously burying any expectation that she could ever provide what I needed. This was so powerful that I could go home after that session and permanently (so far) be significantly calmer around my abuser.

Therefore if Hunter goes through something like this, he'd potentially be able to put Belos to rest and have it feel very real and true: and have significantly reduced distress about Belos-related memories. There is the potential for powerful breakthroughs for him here, especially also related to Flapjack's death and how challenging it might be to carve palismen in the beginning. Especially since in the worst case scenario, even touching palistrom wood might be enough to badly trigger him. I cover this particular point a bit more in my other meta, Retraumatization and Self-Soothing (Part 1).

We would also be discussing what he's implementing into his routine and what may benefit him. I would be seeing if he is able to laugh about things, be motivated enough to be outdoors and among people, experience pleasure when creating new things, and form closer bonds with parental figures (what I just listed is to do with neurotransmitters in the brain that increase mental health: serotonin, endorphins, dopamine and oxytocin).

If I were his therapist I might suggest that whatever volunteering tasks he does, he carries those out with his friends, and time should be allocated to managing and taking care of a specific demographic: children. Because I think it'd be a safe, low stakes form of unfamiliarity for him to have enough emotional distance from his traumatic memories. Early months of acute grief usually require such emotional distance.

Having a good dose of an environment like that alongside the other tasks where he's working alongside Darius etc, could help him because kids' emotions are less complex, and their infectious laughter and fun-loving nature may play a role in helping him be more open with his own inner child. His therapist would be seeking to draw out that inner child in their sessions, and that little child would need to feel safe enough to emerge.

Importantly, his future palisman: it would've been interesting if he did what Luz did with Stringbean and allowed the palisman to be whoever they wanted to be...that would've been a nicely organic process. But even if he had a good idea to incorporate a Flapjack-like design but change details like the color, I'm sure he thought it through very well. I'm certain that this was a major topic of discussion at some stage of his therapy. Discussing the guilt he'd feel about replacing Flapjack vs. still taking Flapjack with him in a new way.

Coming from a strengths-based angle: paying attention to which of his individual strengths he is shows and recounts in the session. If he needs reminding, I could give him a simple worksheet listing various positive qualities and ask him to circle/colour in which ones he feels he has, which then prompts further discussion and questions. Lastly, a powerful tool called reframing e.g. if he says he's worried about being a nuisance to his friends, I'll point out how much he cares about their comfort and affirm that place of kindness.

Work on inviting self-compassion into how he sees himself. Is he able to view himself the way he views his friends? If he remembers the encouragement he gave to Luz about "turning on the light", I would ask him what that would look like in his own life, symbolically.

Hunter's own life has been a really really bad dream for a very long time. He himself has to reach for that light switch and choose to heal by embracing Flapjack's ultimate gift to him.

And we can rest assured that Hunter did that.

Because this post-traumatic growth right here?

This looks like multiple breakthroughs have taken place while he's been receiving consistent care from an excellent community. And there's no way it was an easily won victory. It has been very much hard-won, after how dark the story became in Hollow Mind and Thanks to Them, and it looks like whatever breakthroughs he had left him pleasantly surprised.

It doesn't seem like his heart and soul can contain this much joy and hope, without a very painful dismantling to have taken place first, to make room for the most unexpected treasures to fill his life back up.

The joy becomes even greater if you never would've expected it in your wildest dreams.

[nthspecialll]

In camp we have three irish people and I think their approach to their heitage is so interesting. We have Sean whos father was really proud of being Irish but who had to flee to USA when Sean around 11 or so, maybe even younger. We have Molly who grew up in Ireland, who lived in high society and found it boring so she went to USA as an adult and then we have Kieran whos father wanted to go to California and never really, as far as we know, had any connection to Ireland at all, doesn't even know the "correct" pronoucation of Colm.

Sean was young when he came to the US, most likely he remembered very little about Ireland itself, he might be able to remember a feeling or a few places, but yet he clings onto it, holds his nationally up and proud. I am more inclined to believe that rather than loving Ireland for being Ireland, he loves Ireland because his father loved Ireland, Sean always loved his father, worshipped him almost, even wears his hat. I don't think it would be a long shot to say that he likes Ireland because his father liked Ireland. His main source of information on his heritage was his father who was busy keeping them both alive and probably didn't have a lot of time to teach Sean about the Irish culture.

Sean clings onto the fact that he is Irish even though his knowledge of Ireland is limited because of his father.

Molly grew up with everything. She is Irish through and through, not just blood but also culture, she grew up around it, she was molded into it. She had her whole life to learn about the Irish culture and yet she didn't find it that interesting, she found it rather boring, so she fled for something more interesting, exotic, cowboys and outlaws.

Kieran did not have a long time to learn about Irish culture as his Irish father died when he was very young, completely cutting him off from his culture, however he got somewhat back in touch with it again when he was forced to join the O'Driscolls who are majority Irish, giving him a look into the culture and traditions that he had missed.

You can see Sean often times mocking Molly for not being "Irish enough" around camp even though she most likely knows more about Ireland and the culture than him, something he might feel threatened by as he was used to being the only Irishman around camp and now he might have to face the reality of his lack of knowledge about the very thing he prides himself on. He might also be angry at Molly because she threw away the very culture Sean tries to keep whereas Molly might find him stupid for so desperately trying to keep in touch with something she finds boring.

Kieran on the other hand never tells anyone he is Irish, he doesn't find it of much importance as his family didn't either, however he might carry more "casual" irish knowledge than what he might lead on. Being with the O'Driscolls would have in some way reintroduced him to his culture and he would have been taught at least some mannerisms that he might not even realize are Irish because he recognizes them from his childhood, a childhood where there was no focus on the fact they were Irish. For him slang, special dishes or mannerisms would feel natural as he also saw them as a kid, he wouldn't realize they are special. At the same time he wouldn't realize what parts of his culture are missing such as his pronunciation of "Colm" which Sean angrily points out is actually pronounced "Col-om", Kieran doesn't see that he is saying it "wrong."

Sean who clings onto the culture ripped away from him.

Molly who is so used to the culture she finds it boring.

Kieran who doesn't even know he is carrying a culture with him.

[obsessedwithtwilight]

Bear with me because I’ve never written a head cannon before.

Meeting you for the first time even though you’re shy

Edit: I added vampire Bella because someone said I should

Carlisle

- You got into and accident and broke your foot

- He think its cute how you wont make eye contact with him and you mumble

- He instantly feels a connection to you and wonders if you also feel something

- He’s scared that he’s going to scare you

- He wants to make you feel comfortable around him, he wants you to trust him enough and let yourself out

- He admires how you try to be brave even though you’re shy

- You have a stutter? He loves it

- He wants to tell you everything about himself immediately but knows you might run if he does so he stays away from the topic

- He’s mysterious, checking up on you when you don’t know he’s there.

- the night after you left the hospital he stood in your room watching you sleep to make sure you were alright

- He kept watching over you intently until your foot was fully healed, even then he still was there

Esme

- As her eyes land on you she wants to immediately bring you into a tight hug

- She met you while she was helping out at the school

- She asks if you’re lost because you’ve been wandering the halls for the past 15 minutes

- Has the sweetest laugh when you quietly ask her where a class is

- She introduces herself and walks you to the class, speaking to the teacher out in the hall so you don’t get into trouble

- She feels very protective of you, she knew you were special the moment she saw you

- Whenever she’s at the school she’ll stop by one of your classes to say hi

Edward

- He met you on your first day at school, you were both sophomores

- He thought you wouldn’t like him at first because when he first introduced himself you shied away

- He gets to know you at your own pace and by your senior year you’re close friends

- He walks you to all your classes even if you don’t share them

Alice

- She saw you coming and made sure she met you early

- You met at a movie theatre while you were watching your favourite movie

- She sat next to you and after the movie she asked you what you thought about it

- She listened intently as you rambled about your favourite parts, and she laughed when you looked away realizing how loud you were being

- She offered to give you a ride home since you took a bus

- Giving you her number she left, saying she’d love to hang out with you again and that she hopes you become good friends

Jasper

- He immediately noticed you in a room of people, your emotions were so strong he gravitated towards you

- He sat beside you as you waited for a doctors appointment. He was visiting his father.

- He used his gift to calm you down and talked to you

- You wondered why you felt so calm around him

- After your appointment he was still there, waiting for you

- “I hope you don’t mind me waiting for you. You seemed so nervous I just wanted to make sure everything went okay.”

- He gave you his number in case you ever wanted to talk

Rosalie

- You worked at a café across from the salon she went to

- She was a regular, you liked how she always ordered the same thing so you didn’t really need to talk to her

- She compliments you a lot

- She ends up giving you her number, saying how cute you were and how she wants to take you out sometime

- She likes how flustered she makes you

Emmett

- He goes on runs (human runs) past your neighbourhood everyday

- One day it starts raining and he asks if he can stay in your house until it stops

- You reluctantly agree, you end up hitting it off

- You watch your favourite movies and end up having a great time

- It becomes apparent later that he likes you

- You like to call him a big teddy bear

Bella (As a vampire)

- You got into a little trouble with her dad, what did you do? Just a little, teensy weensy crime. Nothing major

- Charlie thought you and Bella would be good friends so he introduced you to her

- She wonders how someone as shy as you could do a crime, even if it was little

- She admires you from afar and when you’re together

- She’ll take you anywhere you want, you remind her of her when she was human and she wants to protect you at all costs

[atlafan]

Magnet & Steel - Part One

a/n: I was updating my masterlist and I realized I never posted the first part of this on here!! I wrote this in sept 2021, before my life fell apart lmao there are several other parts on patreon. I was updating my masterlist because I realized I never added any of the "part one"'s to the patreon fics that I post on here. Hope this still holds up! REMEMBER TO REBLOG

Here's my author's note from when I originally posted: I haven't done a "college" fic in a while, so here we are! Penelope is 21, and Harry is turning 24. He's a TA for her senior major course, but they met over the summer under an odd circumstance. Can't wait to know what you think! [Inspired by this song]

Warnings: threesome (😮) angst, lots of smut

Words: 15.7K

Don’t ask Penelope how she ended up in a threesome. All she knows is that she agreed to one. School was about to start, and she was out with a guy she was having a casual fling with. They were getting drinks when he brought up the subject to her. She was hesitant at first, but when Luke said it would be with his friend Harry, Penelope felt a little more comfortable. She’s straight, and as much as she’d like to think she’d be adventurous enough to hook up with another girl, she just wasn’t. But the idea of having two guys going to town on her? Yes, please! She was also more than willing after Luke showed her a picture of Harry. Luke and Harry weren’t close, but Luke had really been wanting to check off having a threesome on his “Things To Do Before I Graduate” list. So, she agreed.

Luke set everything up, all Penelope had to do was show up at a hotel with whatever types of condoms she prefers, and her favorite type of alcohol (if she felt like drinking). She didn’t tell her friends what she was up to, just that she was spending the night with her fuck buddy, Luke. No one gave it a second thought.

She got the key card in a cute little box that Luke left for her, making her feel all the more special. She takes a deep breath in the elevator up to the room. She swipes the card, and enters. Luke and Harry both greet her with warm smiles. Luke introduces them, and the three of them laugh a bit over the situation. They all take a couple of shots of vodka before getting started. Luke had put together a playlist to set the mood. Harry dimmed the lighting by putting a sheer scarf over one of the lamps.

Luke wanted to make sure Penelope was comfortable, so he started off by asking her questions. Harry did the same. They all wanted to make sure everyone was okay with what they were about to do, and if anyone wanted to stop at any point, they would. And so, once they get all of that settled, Luke begins by kissing Penelope.

The three are sat on the bed. Penelope shivers when she feels Harry move the strap of her tank top off her shoulder for him to kiss on. She places a hand on his thigh, giving it a squeeze. She didn’t want anyone feeling left out. Luke gestures for her to turn to kiss Harry, and she blushes before doing so. He smiles into the kiss, and she moans softly as Luke’s hands grope her breasts.

Before long, they’re all completely naked. All of their lips are swollen from kissing. Penelope’s on all fours, sucking Luke’s cock while Harry eats her out from behind. She feels bad because she can barely concentrate on making Luke feel good. Harry’s tonguing her asshole while he’s three fingers knuckle deep in her pussy. She has to pop off of Luke, and just pump him with her hand. She can feel an odd pressure building, one that she hasn’t felt before. Without warning, she’s drenching Harry’s fingers and wrist. So much so, some of it even gets onto his chest. She lays on her back to catch her breath while Luke licks the mess off Harry’s fingers. Her mouth falls open as she watches them. She whimpers, feeling turned on from the erotic sight before her.

The only snag happens after they’re all through with the foreplay. Both of the boys want to fuck Penelope, and they weren’t sure how to do that so it was fair. Harry mentions that Luke had gotten to fuck her plenty of times, so he already knows what it feels like. They ask her if she could take one after the other, but she shakes her head no. Then they agree on whoever doesn’t get to have her cunt can have her mouth.

“I want Harry to fuck me.” Penelope says. She can see the tinge of disappointment on Luke’s face, even with the dim lighting. “It’s like he said, you’ve had me before.” She leans back on her elbows, opening her legs. “Don’t you wanna share so Harry can feel how tight and wet I am?”

Both of the boys lose their minds. Harry gets a condom on and flips Penelope onto her stomach. He pulls her hips back and enters her. Her mouth falls open, in shock from how much bigger he is than Luke. Luke gets in front of her, and feeds her his cock. (She got to suck on Harry’s earlier too. They even took turns fingering her and eating her out.) She moans around Luke when she feels Harry start to hit her g-spot. She sucks Luke’s cock faster, she needed him to come fast so she could fully enjoy Harry. And that’s exactly what happens. While Luke recovers, Penelope rubs her clit and Harry continues to pound into her. She cries out when she comes, and instead of Harry spilling into the condom, he pulls out, sits up against the headboard, and pulls Penelope onto his lap. She sinks down on him reverse, and he holds her wrists behind her back.

“Luke, rub her clit for me.” Harry grunts, thrusting up into her.

Luke does as Harry says, rubbing Penelope’s clit while licking into her mouth. Harry bites and sucks on the crook of her neck. Her back arches into him over and over, and her hips match his on every thrust. Her eyes roll into the back of her head as she comes again. Harry comes next, his body going slack against the headboard.

The three of them sit for a moment before cleaning themselves up. The boys let Penelope use the bathroom first, which she’s grateful for because she needed to pee desperately. Harry goes next, then Luke. None of them were going to stay the night, so they tidy up before heading out. They’re all exhausted, but none of them wanted to wake up in that hotel room where so much had gone down. They say their goodbyes after checking out, and that’s that.

The next time Penelope hooks up with Luke, all she can think about is Harry. He just fucked her so much better than Luke ever did. He was shocked when she told him she didn’t want to be fuck buddies anymore.

“I just think we’ve reached the finish line of whatever this is between us. It was fun for the summer, but I need to focus on school. We also both go to different schools, so…”

“I just thought we had something good going. Where did things go wrong?”

“Nothing went wrong, I…I just don’t see this turning into anything more.”

“Is this because of the threesome? Should we not have done it?”

“No! I’m glad we did it, it was fun. I’m sorry, I just don’t want…I don’t want to hook up with you anymore.”

“Harsh, Pen.” Luke sighs. “Is it Harry? Do you like him?”

“I only met him that one time. I haven’t seen or talked to him since. You and I would have drifted apart after school started anyways. This is for the best.”

The truth was she couldn’t stop thinking about Harry. No one had ever made her squirt before, and she couldn’t get the thought of it out of her mind. She’d do anything to feel that good again. But she didn’t know his last name, and she certainly wasn’t going to ask Luke. She’ll just have to think of him fondly.

//

Call her basic, but Penelope is an English major with a concentration in writing. She has a graphic design minor as a backup, and already has plenty of freelance work lined up, so she’s not super worried about what she’s going to do after she graduates. She loves writing, and is hoping to make it a career someday, but for now she’s just trying to get through her senior year.

With that, her fall load is a mix of high level courses, and a couple of easy graphic design courses. The high level one she has to take for her major is called Critical Theory. She wasn’t sure if she was dreading this class, or if she was excited about it. Ever the proactive person, before class Penelope looked over the course description:

Critical Theory seeks acquaint students with specific modern and contemporary schools of literary theory including: Formalism, Reader Response, Psychoanalysis, Structuralism, Semiotics, Marxism, Poststructuralism, Feminism, Queer Theory, Postcolonial Theory and New Historicism. More importantly, students begin to develop their own theoretical approach, informed by what they learn from reading important literary theorists.

She was excited about diving into all of the different types of theory, she just wasn’t excited about who was teaching it. The class is taught by this older woman who is a tenured English faculty member. She has a bad reputation for being overly serious, and makes the class feel so mundane. It’s a senior level course, shouldn’t it be fun? Professor Allen didn’t seem to think so.

Penelope heads to class with her friend, Ryan, who is also one of her roommates. Ryan was one of the few people Penelope told about her escapades over the summer. He’s a no judgement kind of guy, and has been besties with Penelope since their freshman year. They met in their first major course, and became inseparable. She also happens to know that Ryan has had a threesome before as well, and his was also with two other guys.

The two walk into their classroom. It seats about forty, so it’s not small, but it’s also not one of those giant lecture halls you’d see on television. They sit in the third row from the front, a happy medium, and get settled. Other students trickle in as the time gets closer to class starting. Penelope and Ryan both sip on their iced coffees and scroll through Instagrams on their respective phones. It’s a 9AM class, it’s not insanely early, but it’s still a little too early to function enough for small talk. The light sound of chatter dissolves as Professor Allen walks into the room. A young man walks in behind her, and Penelope nearly chokes on her coffee.

“Good morning, class!” Professor Allen says, somewhat cheerfully. “I have some news before we get started. Some of you have known me for quite some time, so I won’t mince words. I’m having a medical procedure done in a couple of weeks that will have me bedridden for the remainder of the semester, so all of my courses will be instructed by some trusted TA’s. This is one of them, Harry Styles. I’ll be letting him take the lead and just observe before I’m out for the rest of the semester. Please pay him the same respect you would me. Harry, go on and introduce yourself.” Professor Allen smiles at him, and he nods.

“Yeah, hi, everyone. My name’s Harry, feel free to just call me that. I’m a grad student going for my MEd, and then eventually my PhD, so I’ll be here for a while.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I was an English major during my undergrad career, so I’m hoping we can all get along. I’ve only ever taught online before, but I’m really passionate about what we’ll be discussing in this class, so I think we’ll be alright.”

“Thank you, Harry.” Professor Allen smiles. “Go on and take roll, I’m going to pull up the course page and syllabus.”

Harry nods, and grabs a notebook from his bag. Penelope is sweating, squirming in her seat. Ryan looks at her puzzled, having no idea why she’s suddenly so out of sorts. Harry calls out each name, and asks if there’s any specific preferred names or pronouns he should be aware of. Then he gets to Penelope…

“Penelope Quentin.” He reads, and then his eyes widen when he fully registers the name. He looks ups when he hears her.

“Here.” She says quietly. The two make eye contact for a moment too long before he moves on to the next name. “Shit.” She says under her breath.

“What’s wrong?” Ryan whispers to her.

“That’s Harry…from the you know what with Luke.” She whispers back, and Ryan’s jaw drops.

“Oh, shit.”

“What am I gonna do? This class is only offered in the fall, so I can’t drop it.”

“Just relax, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Penelope and Ryan, I’m not afraid to separate you two.” Professor Allen says. Penelope notices the small smirk on Harry’s lips as Professor Allen begins going over the syllabus. Harry chimes in from time to time as well. “Since I won’t be here, I won’t be having office hours. Harry will be taking over my office, so you can see him during his office hours. Please try to remember that he’s not only teaching, but he’s a student too.”

Professor Allen is tough, but fair. That’s probably her one redeemable quality. Harry goes over the course page, and talks about the books needed for class. He goes over a couple of big assignments, but other than that, there’s not much else since it’s just the first week. It’s a relief when class is dismissed early. Penelope wants to get out of there as soon as possible. She’s right behind Ryan, but feels a slight tug on her elbow. She turns to look at Harry, and she feels about two inches tall.

“Hey…do you have a minute?” He asks awkwardly, putting his things in his bag.

“Um…sure, my next class isn’t until eleven, so…I’ve got a bit of time.” She looks back at Ryan. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

Ryan nods and leaves the classroom. Penelope follows Harry out, and they walk in an awkward silence out of the building. They walk until they get to the student union, and grab a table at the student café.

“I’m gonna grab a coffee, do you need another?” He asks.

“No, um, I think one is plenty for today, thank you.”

Harry nods and goes up to get himself a coffee. He returns with a small cup, and a large chocolate chip cookie. He nudges it towards Penelope, and she raises an eyebrow at him.

“Had to get you something.” He shrugs, and takes a sip of his coffee.

“Oh, um, thanks. This’ll be a nice treat for later.”

“I…I assumed you went to the same school as Luke.” He blurts out. “I had no idea you went here, and I didn’t even have a chance to check the class roster beforehand this morning.”

“No, it’s okay. Luke and I worked at the same restaurant this summer, that’s how we met and got familiar. I assumed you two went to school together.”

“No.” Harry shakes his head. “We went to high school together, we were on the same basketball team.”

“Oh…I guess we didn’t exactly have time to get to know each other given the circumstances.”

“It’s better when you keep your distance for things like that.”

“Had you ever hooked up with him before?”

“No.” Harry chuckles. “But I knew he was bi, and I knew he was sort of into me, so when he asked if I wanted to participate I thought it would be fun. Especially after he showed me a couple of pictures of you. Are you two still seeing each other, or…?”

“No, I broke things off with him a couple of weeks ago. We weren’t anything serious to begin with, we were just hookup buddies, you know? I don’t really want a boyfriend right now. Being tied down before graduating doesn’t sound like a great idea.”

“I completely get that, you’re preaching to the choir. I hope you won’t be uncomfortable with me teaching your class. You seemed so frazzled before.”

“I was in shock. You were the last person I expected to see today, and my friend Ryan is the only one who knows about the…about the threesome.” She whispers the word. “I’m not exactly known for being, well, for being a hole.”

“Oh my god.” Harry laughs. “You’re funny, you know that? So, what, you didn’t tell your other friends that you let two guys have their way with you?”

“No.” She blushes, a small smile gracing her lips. “I think they’d be in shock from the information alone. I had a good time with the both of you, it was fun.”

“Yeah, it was.”

“Although…I think going forward I’ll stick to just fucking one person at a time. I was super tired the next couple of days.”

“It’s a lot of work, being a hole.” He smirks, leaning back in his chair. Penelope laughs at that, and finishes off what’s left of her iced coffee. “It was my first time doing something like that too. I’ve always been curious about the appeal. I had a tough time holding back.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you were Luke’s girl, or so I thought, so I didn’t want to be the leader, but there were a lot of times I just wanted to push him out of the way. You’re very…you’re very cute, and I kind of just wanted you to myself after we really got started.”

“You were sort of greedy with me.” She’s trying so hard to save face. She wants to melt into a puddle. The guy she’s been thinking about non-stop for weeks not only thinks she’s cute, but has just admitted that he wanted her all to himself. “I didn’t mind it though.”

“Fed my ego when you outright said you wanted me to fuck you.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” Harry nods at that, and they both lean in so Penelope can easily whisper. “There were times I wanted to push Luke out of the way too.” Harry grins a beaming smile at Penelope. She sits back in her chair and chews on her bottom lip. “So, um, what do we do?”

“About?”

“Class.”

“I don’t think there’s anything to do. I didn’t know you’d be in my class when we did what we did. No harm done.”

“But what if, um, what if…we want to-“

“Oh!” Harry’s surprised since Penelope didn’t try to connect with him after everything. “You’d wanna hook up again?”

“Yeah.” She blushes.

“Little cliché, isn’t it?” Harry smirks. “A student fucking their TA?”

“I met you beforehand…it wouldn’t be totally wrong, would it?”

“You like doing things you’re not technically supposed to do, don’t you.” It’s not a question. Penelope can feel the heat in her cheeks getting warmer. Harry leans in a little more, making sure absolutely no one will be able to hear him. “And all this time I thought you were a good girl.”

“I am.” She swallows. “Or…I could just be good for you, maybe.” Harry’s eyebrows raise at that. “I could be your good girl.”

“Jesus Christ.” Harry sits back and fans himself with his hand playfully. “We’d have to keep it quiet. I wouldn’t want anyone thinking you’re screwing me to get a good grade.”

“I don’t need to screw you to get a good grade, thank you very much.” She smirks. “But I agree, it’s probably a good idea not to blab about it. Ryan will know, he can read me like a book.”

“It’s probably good to tell at least one friend. Secrets like these can be hard to keep sometimes.” Harry takes out his phone, and slides it to her. “Put your number in. You mentioned before you’re not looking for a boyfriend.” Penelope hums her response as she creates a contact for herself in Harry’s phone. “Well, I’m not looking for a girlfriend either. I’m happy to not fuck anyone else if that’s what you’d prefer, but I won’t be taking you out on any dates, and I might not call the next day. This has to be just sex.”

“Good, because that’s all I want from you.” She slides his phone back over to him. “I texted myself.” She gathers her things and stands up. “I need to run home quick before my next class. See you around.”

“Yeah, see you, Penelope.”

//

“From how mortified you were in class I never would have thought you’d leave your chat having made a new fuck buddy.” Ryan laughs later on that day as Penelope tells him what happened. “Good for you, he’s as cute as you said.”

“And this time I won’t have to share.” Penelope grins. “Ry, when I tell you a dick has never felt this good. I mean, fuck.”

“Are you gonna tell Luke?”

“No, why would I?”

“Because you’ll eventually end up working together again. Don’t you think it’ll be weird for him?”

“No.” Penelope shakes her head. “This whole thing probably won’t last long anyways. We’ll probably fuck, like, once, and that’ll be it.” She shrugs.

//

The rest of the week goes by in a blur. Syllabus week is usually pretty chill. During lecture on Wednesday, Professor Allen did most of the talking so Harry could observe. His eyes would occasionally drift over to Penelope. When their eyes would catch, they would both smile shyly before looking away.

Being a senior means having no classes on Fridays, which means Thursday nights are for drinking, and going to parties. With it being the first weekend of the semester, it was bound to be crazy. Penelope and her friends get invited to a few different houses, so they pregame at their own apartment before heading out. They go in and out of a few different houses, saying hi to friends, then Penelope and Ryan break off to go to the bars downtown.

“No fucking way.” Penelope says. “That’s Harry!”

Harry’s making drinks behind the bar, and Penelope goes right up, batting her lashes. He smirks and leans his forearms on the bar.

“What can I get for you, beautiful?”

“Two Grateful Deads, please.”

“You got it.” Harry makes up the drinks, and gives them to Penelope and Ryan. “They’re on me.”

“You don’t have to do that.” Penelope says.

“I want to.”

“Here, then, how about a fat tip?” Ryan puts a ten dollar bill on the bar, and Harry happily takes it.

“Don’t think this is a bribe for a good grade, now.” Harry teases.

“Me? Never.” Ryan puts a hand up in defense. “Pen, I’m gonna go see if Alex is here. Are you good?”

“Mhm, go have fun.” She smiles, and turns back to Harry. “How do you have time to work here?”

“I just do.” He shrugs. “I’m only the TA for our class, and I’m only taking three grad classes this semester. Two of which are online asynchronous, so it’s fine. The stipend I get is just enough to cover housing and some other bills. This’ll help me not live paycheck to paycheck.”

“That’s smart.”

“You didn’t think I was stupid, did you?” He leans a little farther forward.

“Maybe a little, since you didn’t ask for my number right away.”

“I thought you and Luke were a legitimate item!” Harry laughs, standing back up straight.

“If that were the case, it would have been a little fucked up for us to have a threesome. And even more fucked up of me to choose you over him, don’t you think?”

“I guess, yeah.” He sees he’s getting waved down by someone for another round. “I have to tend to the customers. Stay here? I can chat between orders.”

“Okay.”

Penelope watches as Harry tends to the bar. She watches as other people try to flirt with him. She feels a tinge of jealousy, but she gets over it because she knows that no one else will have the chance to know him like she does.

“I’m surprised you’re not at some big house party.” Harry says to her a little later on.

“We stopped by a few places earlier to say hi, but now that we’re all of age it’s more fun to come down here where we don’t have to worry about the cops coming to shut the party down.”

“Very true.”

“So, are you going to work here all semester?”

“I don’t know yet. This was honestly just a summer gig. I think I might work through September, and then see. I’d like to have fun with my friends too.” He notices that Penelope’s glass is empty. “Do you want another?”

“That depends.”

“On?”

“Are you gonna take me home tonight?”

“Do you want me to?” She nods her head yes. “Alright.” He smiles.

“Then I’ll just have water. I don’t wanna be wasted if you’re going to fuck me.” Harry chuckles at that, and gets her some ice water. “Thanks.” She takes a big gulp. “I’m gonna go find Ryan and dance for a bit. What time do you get off, are you here ‘til close?”

“Nope.” Harry smiles. “I’m only on the clock for another hour. Go have fun, I’ll grab you later.”

Penelope smiles, takes her glass of water, and heads towards the dance floor. She finds Ryan, and he pulls her closer to dance with him. An hour or so later, Harry makes his way through the crowded dance floor, and finds Penelope. He taps her shoulder, and she turns around. He asks if she wants to dance and she nods, turning back around to press her ass against his pelvis. His hands grip her hips, and they move along to the music together.

“So, my place or yours?” Harry asks Penelope after a few songs. She chews on her bottom lip.

“Mine, then you won’t have to worry about walking me back when we’re done.” She grins.

“Smart.” He drapes his arm around her shoulders, keeping her pressed into his side. “Ryan, we’re gonna head out, are you good?”

“Yeah! See you later.” Ryan smiles. He was dancing with Alex, so he was perfectly content.

Penelope and Harry make their way out of the bar, and to her apartment. She keys inside the building, and leads Harry up two flights of stairs before reaching their destination. She puts a finger up to her lips, signaling to him that he needs to be quiet. Her other roommates could easily be back and asleep, and she didn’t want to wake them. They walk quietly, yet with a purpose, to Penelope’s bedroom. Once they’re in, she locks the door behind them. He comes up to her, pressing her gently against the door, and slotting his mouth over hers.

“You still want to?” Harry asks as he kisses a trail to her neck. “It’s okay if you don’t.”

“No, I want to. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.” Harry pauses his kissing to step back and look at her with raised eyebrows. “I…I mean, like, that night…I’ve wanted you to fuck me again for a while. Shit, did I just ruin it?”

“You didn’t ruin anything.” He smiles softly at her. “I’m just surprised, is all. I barely got to do half of the shit I wanted with you, and yet I was still able to leave a lasting impression.”

“You know your dick is big.” Her face flushes.

“Was that the only memorable part?” He presses his thigh between hers, causing her to grunt.

“No.” Truth be told, Penelope couldn’t get a single part of him out of her mind since that night. Every kiss, every touch, every moan…there was just something so alluring about Harry, and she had wanted him again desperately. “Please, I…don’t tease me right now. I’m too riled up for that.”

“Ah, so you just want it hard and fast tonight, is that it?”

“Yes.” She tugs on the collar of his shirt, pulling him back down to her to kiss. She bites down and sucks on his bottom lip. “Please, Harry.”

He cups her jaw, licking into her mouth, then tugs her back to her bed. They both fall on top of it, and fumble around to get their clothes off. He nips at various parts of her breasts and chest, working his way down to between her legs. Her back arches as his tongue licks a fat stripe up her slit. He spits down on her pussy, then licks over her clit, swirling his tongue around the small bud. Penelope fists at her blankets, and grits her teeth. Harry rubs his fingers around her entrance before slipping his index and middle inside. She squirms a bit from the intensity of it all. His mouth is making a mess of her clit while his fingers thrust in out of her in search for her g-spot.

“Shit, right there!” She gasps, then claps her hand over her mouth.

Harry groans against her, feeling how wet he’s making her with what he’s doing. He can feel her tightening around his fingers. He wonders if she’ll squirt again like she did the last time he was between her legs like this. He hopes she does, it was one of the hottest things he had ever seen. A few more strokes of his fingers and she’s gushing. Harry quickly removes his fingers from inside her, and rubs her clit rapidly. He has to use his other hand to hold one of Penelope’s legs down so she won’t close them. Her comforter is soaked. She thinks he’s going to give her a moment to catch her breath when he takes his hand away, but she gasps when she feels his hot mouth back on her, licking away at the mess she made.

“Does that happen a lot?” Harry asks her as he kisses his way back up her body.

“No.” She reaches into her side table for a condom, and hands it to him. “It’s only happened one time prior to you, and then it didn’t happen again until you. It’s sort of embarrassing…”

“Are you kidding?” He rips the foil packet open and slides the condom on his hard cock. “I’ve only ever seen that happen in porn. I have to say, the real thing is way hotter than watching it happen on a screen.” He pecks her lips as he lines himself up with her. “I like knowing that I’m making you feel that good.” He pushes inside of her, and they both groan. “Did…did Luke ever…was he the first person-“

“It happened while I was touching myself one night, okay? And that was like two years ago, and then it didn’t happen again until you fingered me from behind during the threesome. Can we move on?” She says, rolling her hips up to his to get him to start moving.

“That’s not a very nice way to talk to me.” Harry gives her a sharp thrust. “Thought you wanted to be my good girl.”

“I do, but you’re making it difficult.” She huffs. “Don’t bring up Luke, or anyone else.”

Harry nods, and starts giving her hard and fast strokes. He takes her wrists, and presses them down on either side of her head. She’s breathing heavily, desperately trying to stay as quiet as she can. She knows the walls of her apartment are thin, and knows how annoyed she’d be if the shoe were on the other foot. Harry releases one of her wrists so he can hook an arm under one of her knees so he can drive it in deeper.

“Oh, God.” Penelope throws her head back into her pillow.

“Like that?” He grunts into her ear. “So fucking deep.”

“Yes.” She gets a fist full of his hair, and presses him further into her neck. He sucks on the tender skin, causing her to let out an elongated moan. She bites down on his shoulder to try to keep herself quiet.

Harry moves to sit up on his knees, gripping her hips to raise them up a bit. He holds onto her tight as he grinds his cock in and out of her. She reaches to rub her clit, but looks him in the eyes first as if to ask if it was okay. He nods rapidly, grabbing her hand to place it where she needs it most, and she starts touching herself. Harry’s mouth falls open as he watches the scene before him. Penelope bites down on her other palm to muffle the sounds of her cries and screams as she comes around Harry’s cock. He spills into the condom shortly after, and comes down to her to kiss her over and over. She wraps her legs around his waist, pulling him closer as they explore each other’s mouths. Once their breathing evens out a bit more, Harry pulls out of her.

“Fuck.” He runs a hand through his hair and looks at her. “That was great.”

“Yeah.” She smiles at him. “I’ve got a small trash bin by my desk.” She points over to it.

“Right.” He nods, and gets off her bed. He disposes of the condom, then starts to put his clothes back on. Penelope throws on an extra-large bed shirt. “So…you good?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “Just wanted to make sure you were alright before I left.”

“Harry, it’s not like you whipped me and called me a whore.” She laughs. “I’m all set, you can go.”

“Alright.” He laughs too. “I’m glad you came to the bar tonight. I was going to text you, but then I didn’t because I didn’t know if you had class tomorrow morning or not.”

“I don’t have classes on Fridays, actually.”

“Good to know.” He pecks her lips, and opens her bedroom door to leave.

Penelope goes down the hall to use the bathroom, and go through her nightly routine. She drinks a little bit of water, then goes back to her room. She yanks the comforter off her bed, and sighs with relief when she sees the wet spot didn’t seep through to her other blankets and sheets. She slips into bed and gets comfortable. It doesn’t take her long to fall asleep.

//

During the day Friday, after sleeping in, Penelope goes to the library with Ryan to get a jump on some homework. There wasn’t a ton of stuff assigned since it was syllabus week, but Penelope had an easier time reading her academic texts at the library, and so did Ryan. Novels she could read just fine in her bedroom. The two dove into how their nights ended: Penelope took Harry home, and Alex took Ryan home. All in all, they both had a good night.

“So, when are you going to tell Jessa and Naomi about Harry?” Ryan asks her.

“Probably tonight when we have our movie night.”

“I can’t wait to watch Mystic Pizza.” Ryan sighs happily. “I love our little traditions.”

“Me too.” Penelope smiles.

//

That night, Penelope, Ryan, Jessa, and Naomi all get comfortable in their living room to watch their movie. They have drinks, pizza, and cookies - nothing could be better. Penelope tells the girls about Harry, not naming him, but that she has acquired a new fuck buddy.

“Ohh, so that’s who I saw sneaking out of here last night. I got up to grab a late night snack, and I heard the door open and close.” Jessa says.

“Sorry, we tried to be as quiet as we possibly could.” Penelope explains. “I didn’t want to wake either of you.”

“No worries.” Naomi smiles. “Glad you got yours. The party we ended up at was full of gross people, so we left.”

“Yeah, and then we were too exhausted to go anywhere else.” Jessa shrugs.

About halfway through the movie, Penelope feels her phone buzz next to her thigh. Normally, she wouldn’t look at her phone during a roomie night, but she was curious to see who was texting her at 10PM.

Harry: wyd

Penelope: watching a movie with my roomies, wbu

Harry: just got home from the bar…wanna come over?

Penelope: I can’t…it’s roomie night, we’re watching a movie

Harry: come over after the movie

Penelope: I’m not going to walk by myself to god knows where at night

Harry: can’t Ryan walk you?

Penelope: I’m sure he would if I asked, but I’m not going to because it’s not his job

Penelope: If you want me to come over then you can come and get me

Harry: jfc fine! What time???

Penelope: idk whenever the movie ends, I’ll text you

Harry: don’t make me wait too long

Penelope rolls her eyes, and puts her phone down. She really didn’t want to leave her friends, and she was hoping for just a chill night. They didn’t technically have other plans after the movie, but usually they would watch another, maybe do their nails, and drink a little more. She didn’t want to ditch them.

“Hey, uh…after the movie’s over, would you guys be mad if I went to go hook up?” Penelope asks the group.

“Why would we be mad?! Did fuck buddy text you?” Jessa asks.

“Yeah, but I won’t ditch if you all want me to stay afterwards.”

“I have to get up early for field hockey, so I was planning to crash after the movie.” Naomi says.

“And I have an early shift at the coffee shop.” Ryan says. “Do you need me to walk you there?”

“No, he said he’d come get me. Thanks, guys.”

“Oh, please.” Jessa scoffs. “As if we’d ever cock block. It was nice of you to consider all our feelings, though.”

“Always.” Penelope smiles. She really does have a great circle of people around her.

After the movie’s over, Penelope texts Harry that he can come get her. She puts a small tote bag of things together for herself in case she ends up spending the night. She sure as shit wasn’t going to walk back by herself. Harry texts her that he’s outside, and off she goes. She doesn’t see anyone out on the street, just a car, so she walks up to it. She sees Harry in the driver’s seat, and she opens the door to get in.

“Hi.” She smiles.

“Hey.” He smiles back. He’s dressed more casually tonight, donning a pair of grey joggers and a white tee shirt. He pulls onto the street, and makes his way to his building.

“Are you way off campus, or…?”

“Nah, I live in the grad student housing complex. It’s sort of like a townhouse, which is nice. I share it with three other people.”

“I never asked before, but how old are you?”

“I’ll be twenty-four in February, why?”

“Just wondering.” She shrugs a shoulder. “Did you take a gap year between undergrad and grad?”

“Yeah, I wanted to work for a bit so I could have some time to figure out what I wanted to do next. I kind of just want to get paid to read, so when I was looking into different programs, the one at this school caught my eye. The grad program here has a smooth transition into the doctorate.”

“That’s so cool. I feel like once I graduate I’m never going back to school.”

“What do you want to do?”

“I want to be a writer. I…I like writing creatively, fiction mostly. Too bad you don’t want to get into publishing, you could read while I write.” She jokes, and it makes him chuckle.

“I actually thought about going into publishing, but then I realized I’d have to read books I don’t really give a fuck about, and then marketing comes into play, and I really don’t give a fuck about that.”

“So, basically doing more schoolwork allows you to just read whatever, whenever?”

“Pretty much.” Harry pulls into a parking space, and leads her to his building. “All of my roommates are out, by the way. They like to go to the bar on Fridays since they know all you undergrads tend to stay in on Friday nights.” He smirks, and keys into the house. “And for even more convenience, three of the bedrooms are upstairs, and mine is on the ground level. So, either way, we have a little more privacy, and I have my own bathroom.”

“Damn, how’d you get so lucky?”

“I moved in first over the summer, so I already established my room and all that. The others didn’t seem to mind.” Harry puts his hand on the small of Penelope’s back to lead her to his bedroom. He flips the light on and closes the door behind them. “Here we are.”

“Nice.” She says as she kicks her Crocs off. “Not a total pit.”

“I clean up after myself. I’m not a pig.”

“You just never know what you’re going to walk into at a guy’s place.” She sees a book case stacked with all different types of books.

“What are you looking for?” He stands behind her, leaning over her shoulder.

“Just wanted to make sure there isn’t a copy of Catcher in the Ryeanywhere.” She looks up over her shoulder at him. “I can’t have a Holden Caulfield apologist on my hands.”

Harry bursts out laughing at that, and gives her playful shove.

“Definitely won’t find a copy of that book on my shelves. I hated that they made us read that in high school.”

“What was one of your favorites that they made you read?” Penelope asks as she crawls onto Harry’s bed. He sits down next to her, throwing his arm around her so she can cuddle up next to him.

“Hmm…I enjoyed Lord of the Flies, I think. This may sound stupid, but I didn’t read much in high school. I fell in love with it in college because of some random gen ed I took freshman year. Changed my major from Business Administration to English after my first semester. What about you?”

“That’s not stupid at all. I’m actually not the biggest fan of reading myself. I much prefer to write. I like short stories, and stuff like that. I’m a slow reader, and I hate super descriptive books, I’d rather read dialogue, you know? Nothing like some good subtext.”

“So, what does it take for a story to really suck you in? What makes you sit down and read?”

“I love a good, like, enemies to lovers, or even friends to lovers. Basically, two idiots that if they just talked out their feelings so much shit could have been avoided.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of genre, not so much a trope.” Harry chuckles.

“The genre doesn’t matter to me as long as it has the tropes I like. I hate reading a book thinking something is going to happen, and then it doesn’t. It’s like eating something with a bad after taste. I wanna know straight up what I’m getting into, and then I’ll be more than happy to strap in for the ride.”

“Wouldn’t that ruin the ending if you know the couple will end up together?”

“Not at all! Just because I know what the destination is going to look like doesn’t mean I know the journey. I wanna know how they get to be lovers, and a little bit of what happens next.”

“I’m guessing you mostly stick to romance novels?”

“I guess you could call them that.” She looks up at him and smiles. “Sometimes I like reading a story that just has a good fuck scene in it.”

“Ah, so you prefer to read your porn, rather than watch it.”

“I like having context.” Penelope moves to straddle Harry. His hands rub up and down her thighs.

She cups his jaw and leans in to kiss him. She didn’t come over to talk, after all. Harry adjusts them so they can sit a little more comfortably. Penelope licks into his mouth, and molds her tongue to his. He tasted like mint, and it just made her kiss him harder. His arms wraps around her body, pulling her closer to him. She rolls her hips down onto his, and a slow grind forms between the two of them. She pulls back for a moment and smiles shyly.

“It’s, uh, it’s a little quiet in here. Could you maybe put some music on for some background noise?” She asks.

“Sure.” Harry grabs his phone and opens Spotify, putting on a random playlist before gripping her chin to kiss her again. “Better?”

“Much, thank you.”

They continue to kiss and grind, sinking further into the mattress until Harry’s laying down flat on his back with Penelope on top of him. Both of their lips are swollen at this point, and Harry’s cock is throbbing. He rolls them both onto their sides so they’re facing each other. He reaches for the waistband of her leggings, and looks up at her.

“Wanna touch me while I touch you?” He asks.

“Yeah.” She nods, and presses her lips back to his.

She blindly reaches inside his joggers, palming his erection over his boxer-briefs. She wriggles a little closer to him so there’s less of a strain on her arm. Harry’s hand slips inside her leggings, and her thong, cupping her pussy. He grunts when he feels how wet she is, and slides his middle finger up inside her.

“Already so wet for me.” He says against her lips.

She hums her response as she pulls Harry’s cock out of his underwear. She grips him, and slides her hand up over his tip. She rubs her thumb over his slit, and whimpers at the feeling of his precome.

“So are you.” She looks up at him through her lashes. She slings her leg up over his hip so he can have more access to her. He slides two more fingers inside her. “Holy fuck.” She moans.

“Like the way that feels?” He nuzzles his nose to hers.

“Mhm, feels so good. Stretching me out so much.”

“Opening up so nice for me. Gonna take my cock like a good girl?”

“Fuck, yes.” She scooches closer to him, getting her other hand inside his pants so she can cup his balls, massaging them gently.

“Oh my god.” Harry pulls his hand away from her, and pushes her on her back. He wriggles out of his bottoms, and yanks her leggings and thong off of her. “I’m gonna eat you out, is that alright?”

“Yeah, I don’t mind.” She bites her bottom lip as Harry spreads her legs apart. “You really like doing that, huh?” She says just as Harry was starting to suck on her pussy. He pops off of her and smirks.

“I’m really into oral pleasure. Anyone can stick their dick in you and fuck you, it actually takes some talent and effort to get someone off with their mouth and fingers.” His thumb rubs slow, hard circles into her clit. “Don’t you think?” He slides his three fingers back inside of her, and brings his lips down to her clit. He looks up at her as he sucks on it.

“Shit, Harry.” Her mouth falls open as she makes eye contact with him. She was so turned on by him. Her hips raise and lower with each pump of his fingers.

“Come on, Penelope, give it to me.” He says, pumping his fingers even faster. He uses his other hand to rub her clit rapidly. “Can feel you squeezing around me.”

“H-Harry, I…I can never tell when it’s gonna happen it just happens.” She squirms under him, trying to close her legs, but Harry keeps them open. “I don’t wanna make a mess of your bed.”

“I don’t care about that. I want you to feel so fucking good. Just let go, be a good girl, yeah?”

That’s what pushes Penelope over the edge, soaking Harry’s fingers in the process. He pulls them out of her and immediately attaches his mouth to her pussy. He rubs her clit more to get more from her. Penelope thrashes underneath him, unable to handle the intensity of her orgasm. Harry pops off of her, and sits back on his feet as he catches his breath. He takes his shirt off, and yanks Penelope up onto her bum so he can take hers off as well. He wraps his lips around one of her nipples while his hand kneads her unoccupied breast.

“Harry, can I suck on you for a bit?” She asks him, almost lightheaded.

“Course you can.” Harry switches positions with her so he’s laying on his back.

Penelope kisses her way down his long torso, admiring the ink on his skin. The head of his cock is red, almost angry. She grips him, and licks a stripe up his shaft. She flits her tongue over his leaky tip. It’s a heady taste, but she doesn’t mind too much. How could she? She essentially squirted into his mouth, and he licked up every last drop. The least she could do was give him some good head. She suckles on his tip, getting plenty of spit on it so she can pump his shaft more comfortably. She uses her other hand to cradle his balls. Harry throws his head back, making the prettiest sounds. He sounds desperate and needy, and it was making Penelope even stickier between her thighs.

“Pen, I don’t wanna come yet.” He gasps just as she was about to suck on one of his balls. He yanks her up by her bun. “Please, it felt so good, but I don’t wanna come yet.”

“Oh…can you not, uh, bounce back that fast?” She blinks at him. Her lips are so puffy and swollen, and she still has some spit on the corners of her mouth. Harry thinks she looks really cute.

“It’s not that.” He chuckles. “Delayed gratification is more satisfying.” He sits up and licks his lips. “What do you wanna do now?”

“I…what do you mean?”

“Do you wanna keep doing this? Do you want me to fuck you?”

“Oh! Yeah, I want you to fuck me now…please.”

“Alright, c’mere.”

Harry reaches for a condom out of his bedside table, and rolls it on. Penelope straddles him, and lines herself up to sink down onto him. She bites down on her bottom lip as she gets adjusted. Her nails dig crescents into Harry’s shoulders. Penelope rolls her hips forward to grind against Harry properly. His hips match hers, creating the perfect rhythm between them. He grabs her by the back of the neck, and pulls her forward to kiss him. She moans into his mouth when she feels his other hand on her clit, rubbing precise circles with his fingers. His lips move from her mouth to her collar bones, nipping and sucking at various spots. Penelope’s head falls back, and Harry takes the opportunity to suck on one of her breasts. Both of his hands move to grope and squeeze at her ass. She whimpers at him, missing the attention on her clit. She forgets all of her troubles when Harry thrusts up and hits a specific spot.

“Oh!” She gasps. “Oh, my god. Don’t stop, shit, don’t stop!”

“Yeah? Am I hitting it?” Harry smirks, helping her bounce on and off his cock harder.

“Yes, fuck.” Her nails scratch harshly at his shoulders and chest.

“Who fucks you better than I do, Baby?”

“No one.” She pants.

“Who’s the best you’ve ever had?”

“You are.” Her eyes are teary. “Please, can I come?”

Harry nods yes, and Penelope lets go. Her eyes roll into the back of her head. Harry sucks a bruise into her exposed neck. She tightens around him as she comes, pushing him over the edge, spilling into the condom. Penelope presses her lips to Harry’s, sharing a kiss that eases both of their heartbeats. Harry lifts Penelope off of him gently, and sets her down.

“You, um, you said you have your own bathroom?” She asks shyly.

“Yeah, it’s through that door.” He says as he throws the condom away.

“Awesome, um, I’ll just need a few minutes to clean up, and then you can drive me back if you want.”

Harry turns to look at her, now in a pair of boxer-briefs. He looks at the time on his digital clock and he sighs heavily.

“You can spend the night if you want.”

“No, it’s okay. I know…I know you don’t really want me to.” She grabs her clothes and quickly makes her way into his bathroom. She comes out a few minutes later, and Harry’s thrown on a sweatshirt and his grey joggers from before.

“You brought a bag with you, I figured you wanted to stay.” He shrugs, grabbing his keys.

“I didn’t realize you’d be driving. I wasn’t going to walk back by myself.”

“I wouldn’t have made you do that.” They both make their way out to his car, and he drives her back to her apartment. “Thanks for coming by tonight, it was fun.”

“Yeah, it was.” Penelope smiles. “Thanks for the ride.” She leans in, and they both smile into the kiss.

“Well, goodnight.”

“Night.” She gets out of his car, and notices that he doesn’t pull away until she’s inside.

//

Saturday night, Ryan gets invited to an ABC party at one of the fraternity houses. He used to fuck one of the guys when he was only a pledge. An ABC party means “Anything But Clothes”, so you have to be a little creative with what you put on. Ryan put some fun duct tape over a pair of boxers for himself, and helped Penelope with a towel dress.

“Are you sure this will stay up? I wanna be comfortable.” Penelope says to him.

“If you want, I could tape up a pair of spandex shorts for you.”

“I’m already wearing a pair under the towel. I’m just afraid it’ll unravel.”

“Oh! What if instead of a towel, you put on an apron? That could be sexy. I can help you tape up your boobs for support.”

“But the shorts wouldn’t be hidden.”

“No one’s going to police you for wearing a pair of spandex shorts.” Ryan rolls his eyes.

“Fine, I’ll wear an apron.”

Once they both feel comfortable in their outfits, they make their way to the frat house. Did they look a little silly? Sure, but they didn’t care. It was plenty dark out, and there were people wearing all sorts of things. They go up the steps of the house, and are let in. They say hello to a few people, then make their way to the kitchen for drinks. Penelope just sticks with hard cider since she knew they weren’t open prior. This frat wasn’t known for doing stupid shit, but Penelope wasn’t the type to let her guard down either.

The music is good, Ryan and Penelope dance where everyone else is. It’s a fun party, and they’re both glad they came. They both try not to drink too much too quickly because the bathrooms at any frat house are usually disgusting.

“Penelope, is that you?” A guy’s deep voice fills her ears. She turns to see an old friend, Kyle, standing behind her in a pair of shorts made out of a few different Bud Lite boxes.

“Hey!” She throws her arms around his neck, and hugs him loosely. “How was your summer?”

“Good, worked a lot. How about you?”

“Same here, worked a lot.” She shrugs a shoulder. “Nice shorts.” She smirks.

“Nice apron.” He smirks back, then squints at her neck. “You alright?” He brings his hand up to her throat and gently presses on the hickey she tried to cover up with his thumb.

“Huh? Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine. Um, just got myself good with my flat iron.” She takes his hand away.

“That doesn’t look like a burn…damn, are you seeing someone?”

“No…well, I’m not, notseeing someone. Why?”

“I was just hoping you’d be single.” He rubs the back of his neck.

“I mean, I am, but-“

“Hey, Pen.” Harry comes over to them. Her eyes widen in shock. He’s wearing a pair of swim trunks, and that’s it, besides shoes.

“Hi! What are you doing here?”

“I was a member of this fraternity at my other school. I’m the graduate chapter member on the exec board.”

“That’s so cool!” She smiles. “So, you know Kyle?”

“Yeah, a little.” He throws his arm around Penelope’s shoulders and looks at Kyle. “Having fun?”

“Uh, yeah, how do you two know each other?”

“I’m the TA for one of her classes. We actually met over the summer by chance, so we’re friends too.” He gives her shoulder a squeeze.

“That’s great, uh, we were sort of talking before you came over.”

“Oh? ‘Bout what?”

“Harry, would you mind getting me another hard cider out of the fridge? I’m finished with this one.” She says to him.

“Sure.” He smiles, and leaves them.

“Sorry, what were we talking about?” Penelope says to Kyle. She remembered perfectly fine, but she wanted him to drop the topic. She didn’t want to fuck him. Why would she when Harry had the cock of her dreams?

“You know, I can’t remember either.” He chuckles nervously. “We should catch up soon, maybe grab a coffee?”

“I’d like that.”

Penelope makes her way to the kitchen where Harry is just getting her drink. She walks over to him, and takes the can out of his hand.

“Didn’t think I’d run into you at a frat party.” He says to her.

“Could say the same to you.” Penelope cracks open her cider, and takes a sip. She looks him up and down. “Cute bathing suit, but this is an ABC party.”

“A bathing suit isn’t clothing. It’s a whole other category. Your apron is cute, sexy even.” He loops an arm arm around her waist, and hoists her up to sit on the kitchen counter. “What do you have on underneath?”

“Not much, just my shorts.”

“You look really sexy.”

“So I’ve been told.” She smirks.

“By who, Kyle?” Harry rolls his eyes. “Was he trying to hit on you? I saw him touch your neck. That’s why I came over, normally I wouldn’t just interrupt someone while they’re talking to someone else.”

“He was.” She nods. “He’s been trying to get with me since sophomore year. We hooked up once, but I didn’t let him hit it again.”

“Why not?”

“He just didn’t do it for me.” She shrugs. “Plus, I’m pretty sure you mentioned something about if I didn’t want you to sleep with anyone else you wouldn’t, so I’m sure that same rule applies to me.”

“I did mention that, but we never finalized things. I’m happy to only sleep with each other, but I’m a needy guy. I might text you a lot.” He leans in, and starts kissing on her neck. She bites down on her bottom lip. “Might have to fuck you after class sometimes.” He licks over a spot before sucking on it. “Does that work for you.” He ghosts his lips over hers.

“Yes.” She swallows.

“Had you the last two nights, and it’s still not enough.” He presses his lips to hers, and she throws her arms around his neck. She opens her legs for him, and wraps them around his waist.

They aren’t the only people in the kitchen. There’s plenty going on around them, so it’s not like anyone is sparing them a second glance as they devour one another. He sucks on her bottom lip, then lets it go.

“We can’t do this here.” He says to her.

“Is there somewhere more private we can go?”

“I’m parked out back.”

“You drove here? What were you going to do later?”

“Drive? I wasn’t planning on getting belligerent.” He laughs. “I’m not an idiot.”

“I never said you were.” She mutters. “I’m not ready to leave the party yet. Can’t we stay a little longer and dance? Then we could-“

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. It’s one thing down at the bar, but someone else from class could be out there, you know?” He grabs her hips and helps her off the counter. “Grab me when you’re done, then I’ll take you home.”

“Are you sure? We could still go out to your car for a little fun.”

“Yeah?” He reaches to tuck some hair behind her ear.

“Yeah.”

Harry nods, and takes her hand to lead her through the house, and out the back door. There’s a number of cars parked on the grass in the backyard. Harry pulls his key out from one of the inside pockets of his swimsuit, and unlocks his car. They both climb into the backseat, and Penelope kisses down his chest. She gets him out of his swim trunks and immediately puts her mouth on him.

“Fuck, that feels so good.” Harry groans, and pushes some hair out of Penelope’s face. “Wanted my cock in your mouth, huh?”

Penelope pops off him for a moment, spits onto his tip, then gets her mouth back onto him. She takes him down her throat as far as she can, and just holds him there. Her nose presses against his pelvis, and she moans around him. She pulls back and gets his head in the back of her cheek, and she starts to pump the rest of him.

“Feels so fucking good when you do that.” He throws his head back. “You’re gonna make me come.” Penelope pumps him faster while sucking on him harder. “Fuck, fuck!” He comes into her mouth, and she swallows every last drop. She sits back and watches his chest rise and fall. “God, you give good head.” He breathes and tucks himself back into his swimsuit. He sits up as well, and looks at her with hooded eyes. “So…you wanna go back inside?”

“No, I want you to take me home so you can fuck me.”

Harry grins, and they both make their way to front seats of his car. He keeps his hand on her thigh as he drives away. Penelope texts Ryan to let him know she’s safe, and that Harry is taking her home. When they get to her apartment, she has Harry wait in her room so she can un tape her boobs in privacy. She comes back into her room only wearing her apron. She comes over to the bed and situations herself onto his lap.

“Not to feed into a stereotype, but you look like a sexy housewife with this thing on.” Harry smirks.

“I do, don’t I?” She smirks back. “We could role-play if that’s something you’re into.”

“You get better by the second.” He pecks her lips, and slips a hand under the front of her apron to feel her cunt. “Aw, did I make you wet, Baby?”

“You make such pretty sounds when you come, I couldn’t help it.” She nips at his bottom lip. She gasps when she feels two of his fingers slide up inside her.

“Ride my fingers.” His thumb presses down on her clit. “Show me how bad you want it.”

Penelope whimpers, and does as Harry says. She rocks back and forth on his fingers. Harry’s thumb rubs circles into her clit. He wants to make her use him, but he can’t help himself.

“I wanna finger you from behind.” He tells her.

“Please.” Penelope gets off of him, and gets on all fours, still wearing the apron which is doing things to Harry that he can’t fully comprehend. “Would you…do you remember when we…um…”

“You want me to your ass out?” Harry says as he slips his fingers back inside her from behind.

“Yes.” She groans, arching her back more for him. “It felt really good that first time.”

“I know, you gushed all over my chest.” He bites into her ass cheek.

“Don’t make fun of me, I’m self-conscious about it.”

“Please, don’t be. It’s so fucking hot.” He licks over her hole. “Makes me feel like I’m doing something right, remember?”

Harry licks and sucks over her other hole while continuing to fuck her with his fingers from behind. Penelope clutches at her pillow, her knuckles turning white. She tightens around his fingers, and Harry groans into her. He pumps his fingers in and out, faster and harder, making Penelope gasp for air.

“Oh my god!” She pants. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, you’re hitting it.” She grits her teeth and tries her best to stay quiet. She had no idea if Jessa and Naomi were home or not, and she also had neighbors to consider. She smooshes her face into her pillow, and cries out as she comes around his fingers. “Fuck.” She breathes as Harry pulls his fingers out of her. She turns onto her back and watches as he sucks his fingers into his mouth. Penelope works to take her apron off, leaving her fully exposed to him. “Please, do whatever you want to me.”

Harry chuckles as he moves to hover over her, smearing his lips onto hers. She wraps her limbs around him, needing him to be especially close to her right now. He nips and sucks at her bottom lip before letting it go.

“I’m afraid that’s all I’m good for tonight.” He sighs, and moves to sit on the edge of the bed. “I’ve got an early morning tomorrow. I’m meeting with my group for this stupid project for one of my grad classes, and then I have a fuck ton of homework to do.” He stands up from her bed and looks at her. Her chest is heaving, and her eyes are wide, but her brows are furrowed. “What?”

“You…you can’t just leave me like this, Harry.”

“Why not? I got off, and then so did you. What’s the problem?”

“The problem is…that wasn’t…” She grabs a blanket to cover herself as she collects her thoughts. “That was like a baby orgasm. I’m all revved up now, you can’t just leave.”

“Pen, I’m sorry, I wish I could stay longer, but I really can’t. I wasn’t even going to stay at that party long, it’s why I drove.” He leans down and kisses her forehead. “Don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll be in one of these situations again real soon.” He winks, and leaves her sitting there, alone.

Penelope blinks a few times, in shock from what just happened. Was this part of his master plan? To leave her wanting more? She gets up, and goes down the hall to take a shower, she suddenly felt dirty, and not in a good way. Yes, she got hers, but she was expecting more. Had he just spoiled her the two nights prior? She scrubs her body angrily, and grumbles to herself as she gets back into bed. She left a perfectly fun party for a boy…a boy. Never had she ever done something like that just because of a boy. Who even was Harry if not just some guy? She could have stayed at the party, and told him he could have her another time. She won’t be making this mistake again.

//

Filled with utter embarrassment, Penelope uses Sunday as a recovery day, making sure to drink plenty of water. She decides to just get some homework done in the living room of her apartment. She doesn’t want to risk running into Harry at the library. Ryan brings her a wrap for lunch, and they both eat together. She tells him about the night prior, and asks for his opinion.

“Like, am I just being overly sensitive? One second he’s telling me that he can’t get enough of me, and the next he’s saying he’s had his fill and leaves. I felt…rejected.”

“I get where you’re coming from.” Ryan mulls over Penelope’s story. “It was nice of him to drive you back and do what he did.”

“Yeah, it was, but I feel like he only wanted to take me home so he could make sure no one else tried to fuck me. From the beginning, he mentioned he wouldn’t fuck anyone else, and we sort of agreed on that. Am I not trustworthy, or something?” She scoffs. “Maybe I should just end it with him before more red flags pop up. I’m not going to keep my vagina held hostage just because some guy wants to be possessive.”

“You’re, like, super worked up about this, huh?” Ryan frowns.

“I don’t know why. I feel like he made me come, and then he just split. Like…he didn’t wait to make sure I was alright.”

“Had he done that previously?” Penelope nods yes, and Ryan leans in to whisper. “Do you think you’re in a subspace?”

“No way.” She shakes her head. “It wasn’t like he…we didn’t…there was nothing done between us last night that would warrant that type of reaction from me. I’m never like this over a guy, I feel so stupid.”

“I think you should give him a piece of your mind, then. Go roll up on him.”

“I can’t, he said he was really busy today…I don’t want to show up and look insane. I’ll just ignore him in class tomorrow.”

“Ah, the passive approach. That never backfires.” Ryan says sarcastically, and Penelope shoots daggers at him. “All I know is that if he makes you this upset again, I’m kicking his ass.”

“I’d buy front row seats to that.” Penelope smiles. Ryan always had a way of making her feel better.

//

On Monday morning, Ryan and Penelope make their way to class. They stop for coffee first, of course, then go into the building where their course is being held. They take their seats, as well as the others that are filing in, and get settled. Penelope decided wear a V-neck crop top with a pair of compression cropped leggings. She plans to go for a long walk after class to get some steps in, but she also knows how good she looks in her athletic wear, and is using that to her advantage. She’s going to make Harry suffer today.

Professor Allen walks in with Harry, deep in a lively conversation. This is Professor Allen’s last week before going on her medical leave. A few stragglers come in and take their seats, then class gets started.

“Good morning! I hope you all had a nice weekend, and didn’t get into too much mischief.” Professor Allen greets the class, and gets the projector turned on. “We’re going to start discussing the various theorists we’ll be discussing, and the approaches we’ll be taking to analyze their work.”

“Oh, did you plan on participating from your hospital bed, Professor Allen? That’s so noble of you.” Harry jokes, and it makes everyone laugh, except for Penelope.

“I suppose I shouldn’t say we.” Professor Allen smiles. “Go on, Harry, take it away.”

Harry smiles, and takes roll for class, saying each name, and checks them off. He gets to Penelope, and looks up as she says, “Here.” He furrows his brows when he sees her looking off towards the window, then continues taking roll.

“Okay, today we’re going to dive into feminism theory, this is personally one of my favorites to discuss.” Harry clicks on the slide switcher, and starts the presentation. Penelope can’t help but scoff under her breath, which makes Ryan chuckle to himself. “As a refresher, feminist theory combines elements of other theoretical models such as psychoanalysis, Marxism, poststructuralism, and deconstruction to interrogate the role of gender in the writing, interpretation, and dissemination of literary texts.” He clicks the button for the next slide. “Can anyone name off a few theorists in this subject?”

A few people spout off names, such as: Betty Friedan, Julia Kristeva, Judith Butler, Elaine Showalter, Carol Gilligan, and Adrienne Rich. Harry smiles and nods, clicking the button for the next slide. He starts by talking about Betty Friedan, and what her theories were. A lot of this was refresher information for the group, but everyone was secretly happy for it because it had been a while since all of them dove deep into theory like this. Harry continues to go over some of the major theorists’ theories on feminism in literature. Before long, it’s 10:15, which means class is over, and Harry dismisses everyone. He smiles and says goodbye to many of the students, waiting for Penelope to come up to him. Or at least he was hoping she would, but she doesn’t even spare him a glance. She simply walks out with Ryan in her cute little outfit. Harry gathers his things, says goodbye to Professor Allen, then rushes out to catch up with her.

“Penelope!” He raises his voice slightly to get her attention. Both her and Ryan look back at Harry, roll their eyes, then keep walking. Harry’s mouth falls open, and he stands there, stunned.

Was it a little immature? Maybe, but Penelope felt casted aside like an object, and she didn’t like feeling that way at all.

//

Harry tries to get some work done once he’s through with his own classes, but he’s too distracted. Penelope hadn’t answered the two texts he had sent, and what’s worse is that she left him on read. Her read receipts hadn’t been on for him before, but now they are. She wanted him to know she was ignoring him. He couldn’t figure out why exactly. He didn’t think he did anything wrong. He made sure to make her feel good on Saturday night. And he told her upfront that he’s not the type to call the next day. So what the fuck was her problem?

He wanted to just go over to her place, and bang on her door until she answered, but that’s probably what she wanted, and he wasn’t going to feed into whatever game this is. If something is bothering her, then she should just tell him. For the life of him, he can’t figure out what he did that pissed her off enough to ignore him. He texts her again.

Harry: hey, can you just tell me what I did? I don’t wanna play games with you

He thinks he’s worn her down when he sees the three little dots come up to signal that she’s typing. They leave and come back several times until all he’s left with from her is the read receipt. He sighs heavily, and tosses his phone elsewhere. Maybe it was too soon to start up a regular thing like this with someone. What could he have done to hurt her so badly? They don’t know each other that well, there’s no way she could have caught feelings just after a few nights of fucking…could she?

//

Wednesday morning was no different. Penelope was dressed a little less casually, but she still made sure to look extra cute. Harry’s lecture was about another literary theory, and the major theorists within it. Penelope takes her notes, genuinely interested in the content. It annoys her that Harry is just a naturally good lecturer. She could never teach, she’s just not charismatic enough, and she knows that about herself. If Professor Allen had been lecturing, the whole class would have been asleep, but Harry just has a way about him. The content excites him, and he’s able to crack jokes. Penelope didn’t laugh at a single thing he said, though. Every time he said something remotely funny, he looked at her and saw her mouth stay in a straight line. At the end of class, Harry announces he has cupcakes as a surprise for Professor Allen’s last class before her leave.

The class comes up to grab a cupcake. Some mingle with Professor Allen, and some leave after grabbing their treat. This is Harry’s chance. He watches as Penelope picks out her cupcake, and speaks up.

“Penelope, could you come to my office, please?” He asks her as professionally as he can.

“For what purpose?” She asks innocently, licking some of the frosting off of her cupcake. “It’s not like we’ve had anything due. I don’t think I’d feel comfortable meeting with you alone without a valid reason.”

“We need to talk.”

“I don’t think so.” She smirks, and licks some more frosting off. “These are good, where’d you get them?”

“Market Basket.” He mutters.

“Hm, good to know their bakery isn’t shit.” She pops the cake portion into her mouth, and chews thoughtfully before swallowing. “Have a good weekend.”

Harry grabs his things, and follows her out of the classroom. Ryan had already left, so Penelope didn’t have him for backup. She knows he’s following her, so she walks a little faster out of the building. He ends up catching up with her, and pulls her aside to speak under one of the trees outside of the academic building.

“What?!” She shouts. “What do you want from me?”

“I wanna know what I did to piss you off. Purposefully leaving me on read? Being dismissive in class? You’re being awfully immature.”

“If I’m so immature then why bother with me?” She crosses her arms over her chest.

“Look, I obviously don’t know what I did, so can you just explain it to me so I don’t do it again?”

“You act like I’m going to fuck you again.” She laughs.

“Are you not going to?” He steps a little closer to her, hushing his tone. His features are softer now, and Penelope can see that he really doesn’t get it. She sighs, and closes her eyes for a moment before looking back up at him.

“You…you made me feel like an object on Saturday night.”

“What do you mean?” His eyebrows raise. “How…how did I do that?”

“You find me at a party that I was having a perfectly good time at, basically tell another guy to stop talking to me, make out with me in the kitchen, take me to your car so I can blow you, which I was more than happy to do, and then you take me home. I’m sitting there thinking we’re really going to get it on, and all you do is finger me, and then tell me you can’t stay a little longer? I was obviously in a needy state, and you just…you just left, Harry.” Her eyes start to water a bit. “I don’t know why I got so worked up over it, but I did, and I just felt like I was this thing you could use whenever you wanted, like you own me. And I…I needed you to stay longer.” Her bottom lip trembles into a pout.

“I…Jesus, Penelope, I’m so sorry.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I thought since I made you feel good you’d be fine with not…doing more that night. I never meant to make you feel like an object of mine.”

“I know it wasn’t intentional, but it still hurt my feelings. I could have stayed at the party and had a good time with my friends, but I chose to leave with you, and for what? So you could finger me and eat out my ass? And you didn’t even seem grateful for it. You were going to town on me, and didn’t even…I just felt really used.” She looks down at her sandals, her cheeks growing warm with embarrassment. “I’m okay not doing sleepovers, I don’t need that from you, but if we do some less than conventional acts…I need you to stay a little longer.”

“Look at me.” He gently grips her chin, and tilts her face up. His hand moves to cradle her cheek. “Before me…had no one ever…like, eaten you out like that?” She shakes her head no. “Had you done any sort of bum stuff?” She shakes her head no again, and he sighs. “I’m sorry…I didn’t think you’d need extra comfort because you didn’t after you squir-“

“Shh!” She puts her hand over his mouth. “Not an outdoor word, you got it?” Harry nods yes and she lets him go. “I know you’re not a mind reader, but I thought it was clear that I was upset when you said you were leaving so soon.”

“I guess I just didn’t pick up on it.” He frowns. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I didn’t want to come off as needy, or make you think I wanted you to stay for a different reason.”

“I think…I think you and I need to have a conversation about aftercare.” He says quietly. “I would never intentionally send you into a space and leave you there if I knew…if I knew it would put you there, and then just leave.”

“I don’t think I knew it was going to send me into that space, and I guess I didn’t know how to handle it.”

“Do you still feel like you’re there?” He caresses her cheek again, and she leans into it.

“Not anymore, no. I…I’m sorry for how I handled this.”

“Don’t apologize, I was the asshole. Just…next time if I do something that pisses you off, can you just tell me? I don’t want to play guessing games.”

“Yeah, I can do that.” She swallows. “Um, I need to get going to my next class.”

“Okay.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Can I see you tonight?”

“I’m busy tonight, and I have an early class tomorrow. Are you working at the bar tomorrow night?”

“Yeah, I’m doing the early shift though, so I can come meet up with you after if you want.”

“I’ll let you know where I’m at. I’m not sure what the plan for the weekend is just yet.”

“Sounds good.” He smiles softly. “Well, have a good class.”

“Thanks.” She returns his smile, and walks away. Harry sighs with relief.

He realizes now he needs to go do some personal research on how to take care of someone after having different types of sex. Well, he has to go to one of his grad classes first, and then he’ll go do some research.

//

“Three, two, one – shots!”

Jessa, Naomi, Ryan, and Penelope pregame together by doing tequila shooters. The four end up taking an Uber to a club about twenty minutes away for ladies night. A lot of the college kids come to this place, it’s a pretty popular spot. There’s drinking, dancing, and even a smoking area. Ladies drink for free on ladies night, so since Ryan shows up with three women, they get in easily.

The four dance and drink for a while, having a fun time just letting loose. The second week of classes brought a reality check for many students. Many professors didn’t hold back with their lectures and assignments once the semester really got rolling. This is why the students found different ways to let off steam once their weekends started. Some had kickbacks and played video games, some went bowling, some stayed in and FaceTimed their long distance besties, and others partied.

Penelope enjoyed letting loose by dancing every once in a while, and doing it for free on a Thursday didn’t sound bad at all. Something about getting dressed up and drunk was very appealing. The club was also off campus enough that if Harry were to meet up with Penelope, no one would be suspicious or care. So, about two hours into being there, she texted Harry to come join the fun, and he agreed.

“Hey!” He smiles when he locks eyes with her.

“Hi! Let me get you a drink! Mine are free.” Penelope smiles, and goes up to the bar to get Harry a drink. She returns and hands it to him.

“Thanks.” He smiles and takes a sip. She grabs one of his hands, twirls around, and presses her bum to his pelvis. “Eager.” He smirks, and kisses her cheek. “You look so fucking sexy tonight.” He moves along with her to the beat of the music.

“I know.” She looks up at him with a coy look on her face. “I always do.”

“Especially in class. You don’t make it easy for me.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

After a few songs, the two find a booth to sit in, and drink some water. Penelope giggles at Harry’s stories from the bar. Eventually, she tugs on his shirt to have him kiss her. Their mouths were starved for one another.

There they were, having a sloppy make out session in a booth of a popular club. Harry kisses on Penelope’s neck, sucking a bruise into it. She clings to him, biting down on her bottom lip to help suppress any noise. She didn’t want to be too obvious. He pops off her, and slots his mouth back onto hers. Their tongues meet, and things get a little sloppier. Their chins get wet with spit, but neither of them care.

“Fuck, I’m so hard.” He presses his forehead to hers. She takes one of her hands and feels up his crotch.

“Yeah, you are.” She palms him a bit, and he whimpers.

“Don’t tease.”

“I’m not trying to.” She bites her bottom lip. “Do you “Order us an Uber, I’m ready to go.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, my feet hurt anyways. Can we go to mine?”

“Sure.” He smiles, and opens his phone to the app.

Penelope lets her friends know she’s leaving with Harry before going outside with him to go wait for the car. It pulls up, and they get into the backseat. Penelope cups his jaw and kisses him. Harry wasn’t usually one to make out in the backseat of a car like this, but he admittedly missed Penelope. He didn’t like knowing what it felt like to be iced out by her. So, he kisses her back, not giving a fuck about the driver. They weren’t being vulgar, or anything, which was nice of them. The twenty minutes in the car flew by, and then they were off to Penelope’s bedroom. She sends her friends a quick text that she was home safe with Harry before pulling him back in for another kiss. Harry kicks her door closed, and guides her over to the bed. They fall on top of it and giggle.

“Tell me how you want it, Penelope.” He says into her ear, causing goosebumps to pimple on her skin. One of his hands starts to knead her breast over the top of her dress.

“I…I…don’t want to make any decisions.” Harry moves to look at her. “I want you to just…I want you to decide everything, and I’ll tell you if I like it or not. It was such a long week, I just want to clear my head.”

“I think I can help with that.” Harry grins, and pecks her lips.

He hikes the skirt of her dress up, and grips her thong to pulls down her legs. They both work to get themselves naked before coming back to one another. Harry buries his head between Penelope’s breasts, kissing on both of them and tweaking her nipples. Soft gasps escape her lips as her nails scratch down his back. Harry kisses his way down her torso, nips at the plushier parts of her belly, then gets his head between her legs.

“Wait! Uh, you don’t have to do that. I was dancing for a while…”

“Oh, Baby, relax.” Harry says, furrowing his eyebrows. “Do you not want me to?”

“No, I do…I just didn’t want you to think you had to.”

Harry looks at her as he licks up over her slit. He continues his eye contact with each long stroke of his tongue over her. He suckles on her clit, letting spit dribble down to her cunt. His middle finger slowly slides inside of her, and Penelope groans. His tongue and mouth stay on her clit while his finger pets against her front wall, continuing to look at her. Penelope’s back arches off the bed as she comes undone. Harry sucks his finger into his mouth, and moves to hover over her.

“Condom?” He asks her, and she blindly reaches into her bedside table for one, handing it to him. Harry rolls it on, and lines himself up. “You sure?”

“Mhm, yeah, please put it in.” She nearly begs him.

Harry pushes inside of her, and buries his face into her neck. She’s just as tight and warm as ever. He rocks in and out of her slowly, getting a rhythm going without getting too excited. She deserves a long session tonight. Her nails dig into the meat of his ass to pull him closer to her. She rolls her hips upwards to meet his thrusts, giving her clit the attention it desperately needs.

“Well, aren’t you greedy?” He smirks.

“Shut up.” She grits her teeth. “Just don’t stop doing what you’re doing.”

“Thought I was in charge?” He pouts, mocking her.

“You…you are.”

“Then shouldn’t you ask if you can do something before you do it?”

“No, you should just let me do what I wanna do, and let me use your cock as my own personal plaything!” She shouts, feeling her orgasm start to build up. Harry’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t stop thrusting. In fact, he bears down harder, and gives her what she needs. “Oh, fuck, just like that!” She grinds herself up against him and gasps as she comes around his cock. Harry rolls them both over quickly so she can be on top. He crosses his arms beneath his head and lays there under her. “What are you doing?”

“You said you wanted to use me, so use me.” He smirks. “I’ll just be right here enjoying the show.”

“You’re not going to move?”

“Nope, don’t see why I should when it’s you who knows best. Get off as many times as you want, Baby.”

“You’re punishing me.” She frowns, but starts rocking back and forth on him.

“Actually, I’m giving you exactly what you said you wanted, so be grateful.” Penelope rolls her eyes, but before she can do anything else, Harry reaches for her and squeezes her cheeks with his thumb and fingers. “Do that again, and then I’ll have to really punish you.”

“You don’t have the guts to punish me.” She laughs. Harry goes to make a smart remark but he stops himself, and instead sits up. He’s still inside of Penelope, but she stops her movements. “What is it?”

“We need to pause for a second, this is getting…we need to talk about all of this. Like, if we get into more of this explicit shit then we need a safe word, and I need to know what your limits are.” He tucks some loos strands of hair behind her ear. “Does that make sense?”

“Yeah.” She nods. “I’ve never really been like this with someone before. I never let Luke…I’ve never let anyone touch or talk to me the way you do.”

“That makes me feel really good.” Harry smiles fondly, and gives her hips a squeeze. “You can pick the safe word if you want. What’s something easy that you’ll be able to remember?”

“Um…I don’t know.” She squeezes around him. “Can we finish first, and then talk about all of this? We can keep it tame for now, I promise.”

“Sounds like a good plan to me.”

He kisses her, and thrusts up inside her. Penelope moans into Harry’s mouth, and starts getting a rhythm going that allows her to bounce on and off his cock. He snakes a hand in between them so he can rub at her clit. She kisses on his neck, biting and sucking where she pleases, until they’re both coming and gasping for air. The two get cleaned up, and lounge on Penelope’s bed. Harry’s in his boxers, and Penelope is wearing an oversized tee shirt, her favorite thing to sleep in.

“So…you’d be into doing things to me?” She looks up at him, biting her bottom lip.

“Sure, I think it’s been clear from the beginning that I’m down for almost anything. What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know.” She sighs. “This is so new to me, I’m used to just kind of…going with the flow. You’ve turned me into this whiny brat, I’m never like that in bed.”

“And you’re too cute for your own good.” He pinches at her side and she giggles. “Do you want to be spanked?”

“Maybe? But not in a…like, if you’re doing me from behind, spank me until my ass is red, but I don’t want to be bent over your knee, you know?”

“So…you calling me daddy…?”

“Harry, you’re like two years older than me, you are so not daddy.” Penelope laughs.

“A man can dream.” He sighs, pulling her closer into his side. “If we’re going to get into some of the heavier things, then I think we should spend the night once in a while. I can’t leave you if you haven’t fully come back, you know?”

“I’d be okay with that. Just…every once in a while, though, not all the time.”

“What else do you wanna try?”

“Um, I might be open to more butt stuff. What you’ve done so far has felt good.”

“Are you serious? Because I know a great sex shop that sells all different types of butt plugs, and they’re great.”

“Oh?” She laughs from excitement. “Have you used any on yourself before?”

“Well…yeah.” He blushes slightly. “Luke wasn’t the first guy I’ve fooled around with. We could each wear a plug, it’d be so sexy if you fucked me with a strap-on some time.”

“You’d…you’d be into me doing that?”

“I’ve done it before, it feels insanely good when it’s done right.”

“Harry…do you think this is too much for two people who are just fucking?”

“Are you saying you want more from me? Because I really don’t have time to be anyone’s boyfriend right now. I’m sure you’d be a great girlfriend-“

“No, shut up, that’s not what I was getting at.” She shakes her head. “I just want to make sure we’re on the same page about what this is.”

“We’re friends with benefits.”

“Yes, exactly.” She sighs, and nestles in closer to him. “Would you…could this be one of the nights you sleep over? I…I think I need to cuddle with you for a bit.”

“I’d be happy to.”

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for letting something major happen in an RP when one person wasn't available?

It was a group rp. Everyone participating is in their 20s. Going to use B, D, F, H, and J (me) for the aliases.

The plot of the rp took place in a fantasy world with some modern elements where everyone had special powers. However, I made it a rule that the OCs had to have some flaws so that they wouldn't be overpowered. B complained that it wasn't fair to police what people did with their OCs and said that we shouldn't force people to handicap their OCs. They thought it would make the rp boring if we did that. The others said to just let B do what they wanted with their OC because they are neurodivergent and this would help them feel better.

Fast forward to the actual rp. B made their character OP. Every problem was solved in a snap because B's OC was unstoppable and could do anything. Their OC would always get the credit for saving the day since they did everything. D, F, and H started regretting allowing B to just do whatever they wanted with their OC. So they consulted with me and created a new plot device: when an eclipse happens, everyone's powers would be severely weakened and/or be harder to control. Cliché, I know.

How did B take it? By making it so that their OC was immune to that and would still be strong and have perfect control during an eclipse. So their OC just solved the problem again when no one else's OCs were able to do anything. They had their OC then talk to everyone else about "you guys wouldn't be like this if you trained." D, F, and H got annoyed by that. And honestly, I did too. It was annoying how their OC would be able to do everything.

Then one day, B said they had to do something and that they wouldn't mind if we continued rping while they were gone. So that was what we did. D suggested that everyone else fight another big bad. F and H agreed to it, so I went with it. During the fight, D's OC ends up getting critically injured and the rest of us had not done anything to intervene. Or rather, made it so that the other OCs would not be able to reach them in time. D agreed to letting this happen. The big bad was still taken down, but this time it was due to a group effort from everyone's OCs minus B's.

When B returned, they were upset because D's OC was their OC's girlfriend. Both their OCs were girls. B had their OC go on an angry rant about "None of you know how to do anything right without me, and none of you care enough to protect my girlfriend in a fight. You all chose to be selfish and look after yourselves." And that everyone else was lesphobic for letting a lesbian character almost die. But D brought up that it was their idea, and B insisted that "F, H. and J tricked you into thinking that." And then B demanded we have a do over so that they could have their OC save her girlfriend. We all voted against it because it would make the plot more interesting if one of the characters stayed injured for awhile.

Sure I know that it sounds bad to let one of the few lesbian characters get injured, but said character's owner was fine with letting it happen. So it should be fine, right?

B did not like that and called us lesphobic for doing that and had their OC jump in with an ultimate healing ability she never had before so that the injuries to D's OC would not last long. F decided to have their OC intervene and block B's OC from being able to do the healing. When B tried again, H did the same thing.

B called everyone an asshole for changing the plot without them and logged off for awhile. Part of me thinks they may be right, but admitting it to them would mean we continue the cycle from before which was boring already with B's OC solving everything.

So AITA for letting something major happen in an RP when one person wasn't available?

What are these acronyms?

[fl3shm4id3n]

heyyy i would like to make a request for spider-punk/hobie brown with a fem!spiderwoman!reader. the idea i have in mind is just a reader that shares the same morals/opinions that hobie has like hating the government and going against the norm. i also like the idea of the reader also having piercings and like an alt aesthetic bc i think that would fit well with hobie in a relationship. she can be more sarcastic/witty and make a lot of jokes but be really cool. it can be either headcannons or a fic but you absolutely don’t have to do it if you don’t like the idea or it’s too much to do!! thank you <3

Bₑᵢₙg ₐₙ ₐₗₜ ₛₚᵢdₑᵣ Wₒₘₐₙ ₐₙd ᵢₙ ₐ ᵣₑₗₐₜᵢₒₙₛₕᵢₚ wᵢₜₕ ₕₒbᵢₑ Bᵣₒwₙ/ₛₚᵢdₑᵣ ₚᵤₙₖ

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ꜱᴘɪᴅᴇʀ ᴘᴜɴᴋ/ʜᴏʙɪᴇ ʙʀᴏᴡɴ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ᴀʟᴛ ꜱᴘɪᴅᴇʀ ᴡᴏᴍᴀɴ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Tw: Hobie and reader are being little shits, that's it.

A/N: I actually like this idea, this is feeding my Hobie x goth/ALT reader hunger. I didn't have much in thought, but I manage to squeeze something out. I hope this was to your liking ♡

Masterlist

The first time you both met, everyone knew right away that you were both going to end up together. It was as if, you and him were made for one another.

You shared the same thoughts and interests, also the same style. Except, Hobie didn't do a lot like you did. You really liked to wear a lot of things flashy yet dark things.

Hobie did have piercings, but he did not have as much as you did. You also liked to wear chokers with chains, leather, and dark clothes. Your boyfriend would also steal some of your clothes, always saying that what was yours was his, and that you both shared the same style.

If you want another piercing, he'll do it for you, he did his own piercings and he wouldn't mind doing whatever piercing you wanted.

Got Tattoos? Hobie is interested in them, from the design and why you got them. He also sees them as a form of art and another part of your ALT style. Despite them being of cute or scary whatever, he loves them.

He'll offer to draw you something to get tattooed, he'll work on it for days if not weeks. He isn't just going to give you something half assed, he'll make you something that you will love having tattooed on you.

When you want to upgrade your spider suit, Hobie will help you, he'll suggest what to put and add to your suit, he knows that you like that flashy stuff, so why not put them on your suit. He likes how you express yourself through your suit.

What he really likes about you is your sarcasm, specially when you use it on Miguel and Jessica, they're cool, but sometimes they'd get on your nerves to the point that you just use your sarcasm on them. It'd make Hobie just laugh by your attitude.

Also the fact that you were intelligent, but majority of the time you use your intelligence to mess with other, specially Miguel since you know that he hates it when you do that.

You and Hobie really like to mess with others, you both can sometimes be helpful but choose not to. In general you're just like that, even to each other as a joke.

You don't have to tell people you're together, you both make it somewhat obvious that you are. You didn't over do it, you just did enough to show that you and Hobie were an obvious thing.

When you first met Miles, he noticed how you and Hobie were basically doing your own thing together, as a couple and he got curious and decided to ask if you were dating.

You responded with 'No, we just like to kiss and make out on a daily basis, Of course we're dating!' he got the memo.

The important thing to both of you is communication, if you both didn't talk, then that was a problem, speaking your minds is the thing that made you both get together in the first place.

In general, you and Hobie are just that, you and Hobie. You weren't the perfect couple, you did have your differences and issues, but you always fixed them together.

[starcrossedxwriter]

Wicked Fantasies Part 4 (MBJ x Black OC)

Warnings: mentions of grief and death… NSFW, public sex, name calling, BDSM themes

A/N: lol remember when I said this was gonna be two parts? Well I finished both so I said why not lol long chapter ahead but I hope you enjoy!

***

“It’s really insane when you think about it,” she laughed. “I mean God, these people are saying shit I wouldn’t dare breathe out loud… to a complete stranger. Do your DMs always look like this?” 

Michael nodded, causing Raven to shake her head in complete disbelief. “I don’t see most of ‘em but my team likes to share the wildest ones sometimes. The people are mad creative.”

“You don’t ever feel objectified by it?” Raven asked, her nails tapping quietly against her screen as she deleted DM after DM. 

“Sometimes but it’s par the course in my world. And they do it to all celebrities. It’s also not like me and my team don’t play into that shit. So it’s kinda hard to get mad. When you get branded as a sex symbol, people treat you like one. And generally, people don’t mean any harm by it. As long as people, you know, keep that shit on social, I don’t get bothered.”

“Fair. People need to like get offline and touch grass. The amount of women in my DMs insulting me for ‘stealing you?’ You’d think I wrecked their fantasy home. It’s kinda disturbing, not gonna lie.” 

Despite the rise in explicit DMs, Raven was pleasantly surprised at how little her life had changed since she became the public girlfriend of a mega movie star. She had never seen so many follow requests in her life and the cameras swarmed the library for the first few days. However, other than that and one or two articles detailing the sparse details of her life that were available, things were pretty much exactly the same. It also helped that there was a major celebrity scandal each week so their relationship had quickly become old news. But they were the new “it couple” on the block. The world bought their act hook, line, and sinker. A few more months of this and the debacle of their first date would be a funny passing joke on SNL or Late Night tv and nothing more. 

“I feel bad dragging you to this shit on your birthday,” Michael mumbled apologetically. 

Raven scoffed. “It’s a dinner party at Ryan Coogler’s with the cast of my favorite superhero movie of all time,” she exclaimed, a bit of her fan girl side slipping out. “Hardly a punishment. We got our photo so you can post something cute and sappy for the gram and I get to do something fun completely unrelated to my birthday. Win, win.” She assured him with a smile. 

Michael still did not understand her aversion to her birthday, it was one of the many things about her that were a big question mark. He thought she was just being modest when she told him so when Ryan invited the couple to dinner at his spot, he felt bad for even asking her to give up her special day for a work event. However, she said yes immediately, clearly thankful for a work obligation to fill up her evening. 

Her phone rang, interrupting Michael’s response. She rolled her eyes when she saw her sister’s name pop up. She had been dodging her and her dad’s calls left and right since she and Michael’s first date weeks ago. She knew her sister would find out from social media and would tell their dad, and she knew they both were just calling with their hands outstretched. She could tolerate them asking for her money and the money she did not have yet, she always found it and, even if she complained, she would give it. But she would not entertain requests for money that was not hers to give away, nor would she give Michael the impression she was a gold digger trying to bleed him dry. He was upholding his end of the bargain, she would not milk him for anymore than that. She let it go to voicemail, however, soon the car filled with the constant dings of her texts.

“You gotta take that?” 

“Umm… yea,” Michael could feel her entire mood sour at the idea. “It’s just my sister. She’ll never stop calling if I don’t. You mind? Sorry,” her tone was apologetic, knowing how frustrating it would be to listen to half a conversation in a car you can’t escape from. 

She held the phone to her ear and waited for her to pick up, making sure to turn the volume down as low as possible in hopes Michael would hear as little of whatever insanity her sister would spew. She knew she was not calling to merely offer happy birthday wishes, if she even acknowledged the day at all.

“Raven! I’ve been calling you for days. What the fuck?” Kiara’s voice filled her ears. 

“Hi Kiara. Sorry, I’ve been a little busy. How are you?” 

“I’m fine.” She responded shortly without asking Raven the same. “And yea, a little busy all over the fuckin’ ShadeRoom. You know how fuckin’ embarrassing it is to find out you’re dating MY celebrity crush on Insta?? You didn’t even like that nigga or his movies.” 

Not true, Raven wanted to yell into the phone. She and her sister were not close enough to know each other’s favorite movies or actors, hell even favorite colors, let alone gossip about their relationships together. So she was not sure why Kiara even expected to know about her relationship, even if it hadn’t been a complete farce. 

“You have me out here lookin’ stupid as shit to my friends.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize how it would impact you.” There was a hint of sarcasm in her voice, which she could tell Michael picked up on as he choked back a laugh. However, she knew Kiara was too self absorbed to notice.

“When are you gonna bring him here for us to meet him? The girls want to meet him too.”  

“You and dad are always welcome to come to LA and meet him. O-Or just, you know, visit me?” she threw him an apologetic shrug that just made him laugh. She wished she could laugh at how quickly her family’s tune had changed about seeing her. She had invited them to LA countless times before everything fell apart but they couldn’t have cared less about her life and how she was doing. And when she tried to visit them, they made excuse after excuse about why it was not a “good time.” But now that she had a famous boyfriend, it was “when are you coming to visit?” As if the invitation had always been open. She had not seen her family in two years. “Don’t think either of us have time to come to y’all with his schedule. He’s going out of town soon for his new movie.”

“Maybe I can convince dad if you can get us tickets to the premiere of that movie…. What’s the name? I don’t remember. The girls would love that shit. Or… oh! He has to be invited to the new Black Panther premiere next month too. Maybe we can go to that? I don’t know what that shit’s about but it’s Black Panther so you know hella celebs will be there. He’s gotta be a brand ambassador for some fancy shit. Can you get us some Birkins or something?”

Raven clenched her eyes shut as her sister outlined her laundry list of impossible wants from her “boyfriend.” She knew she could never and would never ask Michael for a fraction of these things. And if she was going to ask him for something out of their contractual obligations, she doubted whether it would be to benefit Kiara of all people. She would do it on behalf of someone who would actually appreciate it.

“I’ll ask him. But maybe for now, you can settle for an autograph? Look, we are actually headed out on a date. Did you or dad need something?”

“Oh yea… I need money for a lawyer for that charge from a couple weeks ago. You know that fuck ass bar is suing us for damages? But that shit wasn’t even our fault.” 

Raven’s head lazily fell to the side as she half-listened to her sister complain for several minutes, drowning on with details from the fight  that made Raven think the bar was well within their rights to demand payment. But accountability was not Kiara’s strong suit. She offered lame “ohs” and “wows” to give the impression that she was truly paying attention. She was just waiting for the ask, there always was one and everything before it was pointless. She finally tuned back in when her sister demanded cash. 

“I gave dad the rest of my savings to bail you and your boyfriend out of jail. And I already sent money for the mortgage and dad’s car. I’m tapped out this month.” 

“Fuck you mean tapped out? You’re living like a fuckin’ big shot in LA with a millionaire for a boyfriend and you can’t slide me money for a lawyer? That’s fuckin’ foul, Raven.” 

Raven clenched her eyes shut. It had already been hard enough to keep up the appearances that she had a thriving career in LA. Adding a fake relationship to the house of lies she existed in did not help matters. Her family had no idea how much she was struggling now and while she knew she could tell them, she did not want to deal with their reactions, which she knew would likely be to blame her. She felt enough guilt and blame for her situation as it was. 

“I can’t just make money I don’t have materialize, Kiara.” She lowered her voice though she knew there was no way Michael was not listening. “You know just because I let you and dad treat me like an ATM, doesn’t mean I do that to other people. I don’t have the money right now but I can pay the bar in installments when I come into more in a couple weeks and just pay off the damages for you.” 

“No, we aren’t payin’ the fuckin’ bar cause we didn’t do shit. And wow… God. You’re so fuckin’ selfish, running off to LA and abandoning us here to make all that money with your fancy degrees and shit.” 

“Did I run off and abandon you or did you make it impossible to stay?” Raven asked, her exhaustion at constantly being the villain of her family’s story getting the better of her. 

“Poor Raven. Always the fuckin’ victim as if everything that’s wrong in this family isn’t your fault. And to pull that card today of all days when you know it’s the anniversary of mom’s death. If it weren’t for you…” Kiara started to say before Raven cut her off, tears welling up in her eyes as she already could hear her sister and father’s voice finishing that sentence. 

“I’ll figure it out and send the money, ok?” She called out, cutting her sister’s words off completely. “I’m getting an advance from my next book in a couple weeks. Find a couple lawyers, meet with them and get their rates and I’ll pay for it. No one crazy expensive, Ki.” 

She knew lying was wrong but she did not have any other option. She couldn’t tell her family where the money would be really coming from. Michael had a whole list of things for her for the next two weeks before he went on his press tour, which meant she would easily make enough to pay her sister’s legal fees and pass it off as an advance. 

“This is me and Jay’s lives, Raven. It’s not like you don’t have the money or access to itto pay for the best.” 

Raven focused her eyes on the ceiling of the car, a sorry attempt to stop tears of guilt and frustration from falling. She felt a tidal wave of shame hit her knowing Michael was seeing her like this. “Whatever you need. But once my advance money is gone, I’m tapped out for a while. Seriously, Kiara.” 

“Yea yea yea. I gotta go. I’ll call you in two weeks about the lawyer. Bye.”

Raven clenched her phone in her hand with a fist, her entire body turning away from Michael as a small frustrated sob escaped her that she couldn’t quite keep in. She tossed her phone down on the seat and wiped her eyes. 

She had hoped to make it through today, the annual reminder of the worst day of her life, without thinking too much about it. But there her sister was, picking at the threads of her composure, forcing her to unravel. 

The worst part of all of it was she could not even be mad at her sister or her father and how they treated her. She deserved it and she knew it. She had ruined their lives and this was her atonement. So she endured it, every slight, every barb, every wound because she - perhaps foolishly - hoped that if she kept reaching out her hand and kept giving, one day they would reach back and not expect something in it. They would forgive her and she would have a real family again. 

It did not matter how they spoke to her or treated her, she just repeated the same mantra over and over and over again.  

Keep reaching out your hand, she reminded herself as she took a few deep breaths. 

“You good? We can drive around for a bit longer if you need a minute.” 

“Yea, yea.” She sniffled and cleared her throat. “Just stupid family shit. One day we’ll have a date without me crying o-or having a panic attack,” she let out a watery laugh as she forced a smile onto her lips. 

The smile was wide, and Michael knew, to a stranger, it would likely seem authentic and bright. It would certainly be enough to fool everyone at dinner tonight. But he could see its inauthenticity in her eyes, that’s where all of her emotions shown through. And her eyes? They were void of even the minuscule amounts of light and joy he typically saw and that were present moments before that phone rang. Now, she just looked torn down. And this version of her did not have enough energy to do more than put on that facade and pray no one looked too closely. But when it came to Raven, Michael always looked too closely… and he knew that was the problem. 

Michael slumped back in his seat for a few moments, the wheels turning in his mind as he studied her. He knew he could continue with their plan for the night, that she would play her part and play it well. However, he could not, in good faith, allow that. All their dates thus far had been about him. She deserved for the one day to celebrate her to be all about her. He pulled out his phone and went to Google. After a few minutes of searching, he closed that and opened his call log. 

“Hey Coog.” His voice filled the car, Raven glancing over to him as she continued trying to reign in her emotions so she could play her part.  “My bad, man but we ain’t gon’ make it tonight. Send my apologies to the rest of the team and your wife.”

Raven’s head whipped to the side as she listened to his words. She could hear the faint accent of Ryan Coogler asking if everything was ok. She immediately turned to him and threw an expression at Michael before mouthing, “What are you doing??” 

Michael merely winked at her before answering Ryan. “Yea yea. Just somethin’ came up I gotta take care of.” Michael chuckled. “Aight, ‘preciate you, brah. I’ll make it up to you. Talk to you later.” 

As soon as he hung up the phone, Raven immediately spoke up. “What was that? Why aren’t we going to dinner?” 

Michael ignored her and directed his next statement to Allen. “New plan, Allen. Just sent you the address.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

He continued to avoid her confused and wide eyes. He could not sit at a dinner party, regardless of how fun it was going to be to see the entire cast, knowing Raven was in pain. And even if he did not know or understand the extent of it, he could empathize and recognize she needed a night of someone caring for her, not the other way around. 

“Where are we going?” 

“You’ll see.” 

When Allen finally stopped, Michael helped Raven out and handed one of the cards out of his wallet to Allen, whispering something in his ear that Raven could not hear. With that, Allen sped off, leaving the two behind. Michael placed his hand on the small of Raven’s back and directed her down the block. 

“What about your dinner party?” 

“That nigga hosts a dinner party for everythin’. My role in the movie ain’t that big. Just settin’ up future shit so they won’t miss me. He’ll host another after the premiere next month and at the end of the award season if it gets nominated. Trust me, we ain’t missing shit.” 

“But you’re paying me to go to work events with you?” Raven hated that once again, he felt the need to cater to her and her emotions. “I don’t need to be coddled. O-or for you to rearrange shit to celebrate a day I don’t even want to celebrate. You’re paying me to do a job, let me do it.” 

“Yea and now I’m paying you to have a relaxin’ evening with me. This’ll be more fun anyway. We can still pretend it ain’t your birthday if you want.” 

“Relaxing… at a rage room?” She glanced up and gestured toward the sign outside of the building they were standing in front of. It was quiet, no one but a front desk attendant gawking at them. But she was not surprised it was quiet for a Wednesday night. 

“You tellin’ me you don’t have some rage you wanna exercise a bit, ma?”

She chewed on her lip, she had more than enough rage to get out, but she needed to fix that on her own time, not his. “I do… we all do, I’m sure but… then you shouldn’t pay me for the night. This isn’t work. You’re just doing this to make me feel better and I’m good. We really should go to that party. You can’t just blow off work obligations because your fake girlfriend’s having a bad day.”

Michael closed the distance between them and used his fingers to pry her lip out from between her teeth. He wanted to smile at how she rolled her eyes and pouted a bit, clearly resisting the urge to draw her lip back where it was.  

“You aren’t ‘good.’ I don’t know you that well but I do know that much. Just because this ain’t real doesn’t mean I want to watch you suffer on the one day of the year that’s supposed to be about you. A dinner party isn’t what you need. You need fun, seems like you get little of that shit anyway. So since I’m payin’ for your time, I’m tellin’ you not to worry about my shit. And I’m tellin’ you that your only job today is to have fun. And I don’t like having my money wasted, baby girl.” His voice dropped to his commanding tone, a tone that let her know he’d pull out the flogger again if she did waste his time. 

She rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Fine. But this really isn’t necessary.” 

“It’s my money. Let me decide what’s necessary and what’s not. Now come on.” He pulled her in the door, using his award winning smile to get them into the largest room that was clearly meant for more than two people. 

The attendant got them set up in their protective gear and closed the door behind them, locking them in the room for an hour. 

“So what do we do?” Raven muttered as she glanced around, quietly giggling at their absurd bee-keeper style gear. The room was filled with breakable items, bats and golf clubs and other makeshift weapons. There were holes in the walls and punching bags and dummies and stacks of plates. 

He picked up a vase and chucked it at the wall, the glass shattering against the wall. Then he picked up another one and handed it to her. 

His hand pressed into her chest, right above her heart. “Every negative thing you feel in here? Destroy everythin’ in this room til it doesn’t feel like you’re drownin’ in it.” 

She grabbed the vase from his hand and held it for a moment before she threw it as hard as she could at the same spot on the wall. Lacking his strength, it did not make it to the wall but she did enjoy the rush of adrenaline and satisfying crash it made as it shattered to the ground.  She did not even need further prompting as she picked up the discarded baseball bat near her and started using it to break everything she could see that was breakable. 

Michael spent most of the hour cheering her on as she released every bit of pent up frustration and anger and pain and shame she felt. She was so tightly wound all of the time, never letting any of it show so she could never let any of it go. But this was a cathartic release that she did not even know she needed. She knew she would feel it all again tomorrow but every crash, every piece of glass shattered, every dent she made into the walls of that room felt like a small bit of everything she kept in started to vanish piece by piece.

By the time the buzzer rang, signaling the end of their session, she was exhausted, her arms tired but she had never felt lighter. 

“That was…” she breathed heavily as they walked out toward Michael’s SUV. “Amazing. I didn’t know I needed that. Thank you.” 

“See? You gotta trust me more, baby girl. I know more than just what your body needs.” He winked at her as he closed the door behind him. “And now, we have one more stop.” 

They spent the entire drive recapping their favorite things to break in the rage room, which “weapons” caused the most damage. 

“Remind me never to piss you off,” Michael joked as Allen pulled off onto an overlook. 

“What do you mean??” 

“You were downright terrifyin’ with that damn bat. Can’t have you goin’ all Jazmine Sullivan or Carrie Underwood on my car.” 

“Whatchu know about Before He Cheats?” 

He let out a barking laugh. “Enough to know niggas go up for that song, me included.” He admitted. “But if you try to sell that to a gossip site, I’ll deny it.” 

“Wow, learning something new about you every day. And please, I’m sure there are more effective ways to hurt you if you pissed me off,” she teased. “You’d have a new car before I even finished taking a bat to the old one.”

“You might be right about that.”

“Where are we?” She asked as Michael helped her out of the car and she followed him around to the back of the SUV. He opened the trunk and laid out a picnic blanket and soft pillows that Allen had purchased while they were raging and jogged up to the front to grab the box of Prince St. Pizza that had made Raven’s stomach growl the entire ride and a bottle of white wine. 

“Overlook by the Hollywood sign. Perfect view of the city with my favorite white wine and favorite pizza.”

Raven smiled as he helped her climb into the back of the SUV, both of them leaning on the back as they looked out over the city. The silence was comforting, both of them eating their way through the giant pepperoni pizza and several glasses of wine. When they finished one bottle, Allen just produced another from the front seat and handed it back to them. 

“Thank you… for tonight,” Raven smiled as he poured her another glass of wine. “I… did really need this. And you didn’t have to.” 

“Don’t mention it. Seemed like you needed this more than I needed a dinner party.” He paused. “So your sister… did she even say happy birthday to you?” 

Raven let out a cold laugh as she took a long sip from her glass. “Nope. But I didn’t expect her to. Told you,” she whispered as her fingers played with the strings on the edge of their blanket. “Just another day. 

“So that’s why you don’t celebrate your birthday? Your mom?” At her startled expression, he shrugged apologetically. “I didn’t hear everythin’ but your sister was talkin’ loud as fuck toward the end. When’d she die?”

Raven sighed. “She died in labor. Had some condition, doctors told her no more kids… she got pregnant by accident. My dad wanted her to have an abortion, she refused. She gave birth and died a couple hours later.”  

“I’m sorry,” he offered quietly, his hand rubbing her thigh. He had tuned out most of their conversation, not wanting to eavesdrop. But the moment he heard frustration and pain in Raven’s voice, he could no longer block it out. He heard every word her sister hurled at her and he hated that they treated her so callously. “And they blame you?” 

She wiped her tears for a moment before muttering. “I blame me.” 

“You were a baby, didn’t ask to be born. How is her choice your fault?” Michael reasoned, hating that she blamed herself for something so out of her control. But he also knew grief was not the most logical of emotions, particularly grief as deep seeded as this.

“My dad could barely look at me as a kid, wanted nothing to do with me beyond keeping me clothed and fed. The only person who didn’t blame me was my grandma, she basically raised me until she passed when I was in middle school. And I get it,” her voice broke slightly with her grief. “If it weren’t for me, my dad would still have his wife and my sister would have a mom. So yea… I was born and she died for that… not much worth celebrating in my book… or anyone’s really.” Her voice trailed off to a soft whisper before she shook her head and rolled her shoulders back as if she could shake out the negative emotions. “But you didn’t bring me to this gorgeous spot to trade childhood trauma. Thank you for helping me take my mind off all that for a bit.” He could tell by her tone that she did not want to discuss it anymore. “I don’t know why you’re so nice to me,” she mumbled as she took another bite of pizza. 

He wrinkled his nose. “Am I not supposed to be?”

“No, no. I just… still waiting for you to be what I’d thought you’d be, I guess. What Tasha warned me you’d be.” 

“And what was that?” 

“An asshole,” she answered bluntly, Michael chuckling as he bowed his head. 

“I am… an asshole,” he admitted. “I’ll never deny that. Couple bad decisions after a bad break up and Hollywood bad boy became the image so I leaned into it. Self-centered, arrogant, cold… Aside from my family, that’s the version of me people see.” 

“But that’s not you.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “How you know? We just met a month ago.” 

She examined him with a soft smile before sitting up a bit straighter. “Because a self centered, arrogant asshole doesn’t do half the things you’ve done for me. You don’t treat me like a body or a business transaction. You treat me like… a friend? Even when you have no reason to. You may be a jerk but hell, plenty of niggas are jerks. You may even be a little selfish, not shocking when the world caters to you. But I think the real you is kind and thoughtful. I don’t know why you don’t want to show the world the side of you I see.” 

“Cause that nigga gets taken advantage of, gets heartbroken.” 

She nodded, she knew more than a thing or two about being taken advantage of. 

“Who was it then?” 

“Hm?” 

“The girl that broke your heart and created this version of you?” 

He let out a humorless chuckle and placed his hand on her knee. “One day, I’ll tell you.” He paused, glancing at her. “I treat you like a friend because I think we are… friends?”

He wanted to be so much more than friends. Every date, every moment with her he realized that more and more. However, if friends was as intimate as their relationship could ever truly be, he would settle for it. Anything, just to have her nearby. 

The small smile on her face turned brighter. “I think we’re friends too.” 

With the declaration of their friendship, both of them laid back against the pillows on their backs so they could stare out of the sunroof at the midnight sky. The sky was so perfectly clear, she could see endless stretches of stars. 

“What made you decide to be a writer?” Michael asked as they laid there. 

“I used to dream of being anywhere but where I was,” she admitted. “Still do most of the time. And when I was a kid, books, particularly fantasy books, were just the one place I could always escape to. Other worlds and lives so vivid so I could leave this one behind for a short while. And they always gave me hope that things could get better, maybe. I wouldn’t get saved by a dazzling prince or whatever. But they made me think things could turn around somehow. But when I was young, so few books had characters who looked like me or were written by women who looked like me.” 

“‘If there’s a book you wanna read, but it hasn’t been written, then you have to write it,’” he quoted the quote she had above her desk in her room. 

“Exactly.” 

“Why’d you stop after one book?” 

She clenched her eyes shut. “Didn’t have much of a choice. A… misunderstanding,” she muttered the word bitterly, “with my editor at my publishing house… and they dropped me, wasn’t able to find another. So I got the job at the library to tide me over till I figured shit out.  That was… about a year and a half ago? Haven’t been able to write much since.”

“A misunderstanding?” He repeated, glancing over at her, his question clear even though he did not explicitly ask it. However, when he felt her body shift uncomfortably next to him, he quickly backtracked. She had already rehashed so much that she did not need to tonight, there was no need to unearth anything else. She kept giving him more puzzle pieces but the picture remained a mystery. However, he could tell that it was one that held as much darkness as it did beauty. 

His hand grasped hers and squeezed. “You ain’t gotta tell me. Add it to the one day list?” 

Her eyes were still closed but he felt her squeeze back. “Thanks.” 

Silence fell over them as they laid there. Michael rarely just laid and did nothing like this. It was contemplative and nice, to simply exist beside her. He spent so much time being on, playing a part or an image. But he liked that he did not have to do that with Raven when they were alone. She let him be Bakari… the version of him that was only safe with his family and closest friends. 

“Tonight… I needed it too,” he offered, ending the silent reprieve. “So thank you for indulgin’ me.”

Raven turned and propped her head up on her hand, turning her body to face his profile. He looked different bathed in the moonlight. He was gorgeous, anyone with eyes could see that. But he seemed more youthful to her, his features more relaxed than they typically were when they were on dates. His jaw was relaxed, his lips settled into a smile that was effortless… not his movie star smile, which she had seen enough times to recognize the nuances that signaled its inauthenticity. This one though, his real smile,… it made him heartbreakingly gorgeous.  

“Thank you for caring about me a-and for today. Haven’t had anyone do that in a long time,” she admitted before settling back on her pillows.

He knew she had that void in her life but hearing her admit it out loud broke his heart in places he was not expecting.

“What about right now?” 

“What about right now?” She asked, her tone filled with confusion. 

“Do you wish you were anywhere else but here right now?” He asked.

She tilted her head to glance at him, finding his eyes trained on her and not on the sky above. She let out a deep breath as she studied him. 

“No, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” 

He smiled. “Good.”  

They turned back toward the sunroof, content smiles on both of their faces. They did not talk much beyond that, both of them enjoying the silence and each other’s company. 

She did not even know how much time had passed when something finally broke that precious silence, the buzzing of Michael’s phone. Instinctively, she glanced over and caught a glimpse of his bright screen. Tasha’s name scrolled across, Michael sighing a bit as he sent the call to voicemail. 

Suddenly, Raven felt overwhelmed with discomfort. He was still seeing Tasha… why did that upset her so much? He had never promised not to, at least not to her. So she knew she had no reason to be mad. But she could stop the claws of jealousy from sinking their talons into her heart and soul. And when that subsided, all she felt was inadequacy. Another moment where she was not enough for someone. 

She cleared her throat. “It’s… um kinda late?” she glanced down at her watch before sitting up and sliding out of the back of the car. “L-Looks like you’ve got plans?” She tried to hide the bitterness in her voice but she knew she failed, knew Michael could see all of it.  

Michael shook his head. “Nah, it’s not wh-” 

Raven cut him off. “I have an early shift tomorrow… would hate to oversleep. Mind taking me home?” She did not know why she lied, her shift was not until noon. However, she knew it was an excuse he could not argue with. 

Raven started to walk around to the car door when she felt Michael’s grip around her arm, halting her movements. Michael hated that she saw that. Similar to her, but for entirely different reasons, he had been dodging Tasha’s calls like they were the plague. Usually he reached out to her to set up dates but when two weeks passed with radio silence from her best and most frequent customer, she started calling more often. He met up with her once, an act he regretted the morning after when he woke up. But she had promised discretion, if anyone knew how much of a farce he and Raven’s relationship was, it was Tasha. But he did not even enjoy it in the same way, he felt like he was just going through the motions. So when she reached back out earlier that week to set up another date, he ignored it. And ignored all the subsequent messages. He could not avoid her forever, but he knew he needed to put her on pause until Raven was out of his life and out of his system. While he was drugged up on her, no other fix was as worthy or quite as right. 

But he did not know how to explain that to Raven. He had not promised her exclusivity but it had most certainly been implied. He would not be pleased if he found out another man she had fucked was calling her.

“Tasha and I aren’t…” he started to say but Raven pressed her hand to his chest to stop him. 

“You don’t gotta lie to me. You’re allowed to sleep with other women, Michael. This isn’t real, we’re just friends at the end of the day. All good. I’m really tired though and need to get up early.” 

With that, she gently maneuvered her arm out of his grasp and slid into her seat in the car. She was thankful with every passing mile that took her closer to her apartment and out of his presence. She did not have a right to be upset but she could not change the fact that she was. She enjoyed being his only and she wasn’t, and she was wholly unprepared for how that would make her feel. But that’s what she got, for thinking his feelings for her extended past their business relationship. He was kind but she had signed up to be used and he was getting what he wanted. She had to accept that. 

“Thanks for the ride, Allen,” she said as she opened the door. She fixed her face and offered him a smile that was a bit forced but, despite the end to the night, still was partially genuine. “Thanks for tonight, seriously. I had fun.” His phone buzzed again, causing her to grimace. “And have fun with Tasha. Night, Michael.” She did not let him respond before she let the car door slam shut and she raced inside as fast her legs in her heels could carry her. 

Michael groaned, his head thudding back against the headrest as he looked at his phone screen. 

“I fucked that up, didn’t I?” 

“Wasn’t your shining moment with her, sir.” 

He clenched his hand into a fist before answering the phone. He never wanted to see that look on Raven’s face again and truthfully, he did not care to frequent Tasha anymore. He knew Raven and he had a shelf life that would expire but even when it did, he was not sure he could go back to fucking Tasha like Raven never existed. She had infiltrated every aspect of his being in the last two week and tonight had only made him fall deeper for her, made him want to give her everything she did not have. It was strange to feel this emotion again, to long for someone like he did her. Even if it could not be something long term, he wanted to savor it while he had her. 

But that was not something he was truly ready to admit to himself, let alone to Tasha. So he decided to take the easy road out and blame it on something else: the image and his manager. Tasha would have to respect that, right? And he would spin some lie about seeing her after Raven and he broke up, even though he was not sure if he had the desire for dispassionate, unattached sex in him anymore. 

“Hey Tash,” he muttered coldly into the phone. 

“Hey baby… wanted to see if you wanted to meet up tonight? I miss you,” her voice was sultry and inviting, a voice that, once upon a time, would have had him racing through LA to get to a hotel with her. But today, it did nothing. “And a little birdie told me you were headed to Paris in two weeks for press. Should I pack a bag?” 

Michael rolled his eyes. That was his own fault. He flew her out once last year to Cannes Film Festival and now she thought she was invited on every trip. There was only one person he wanted to take on this trip with him and after tonight, he was not even sure she’d say yes. 

“Yea… listen Tash. You know how I feel about you. But I can’t see you anymore… just for a few months.” 

“What?? Why?” 

He rolled his eyes, she knew why. “Well, you know… I got this relationship with Raven that is really important for my career and I can’t be seen with other women. We’re gonna have an amicable split in a few months and then I’m all yours again. But until then, we gotta keep our distance.” 

He could hear the frustration and bitterness in her voice, though she tried and failed to hide it. “You’re my best customer, Michael. You can’t just… drop me outta nowhere.” 

“It’s just temporary. Just a couple months. And I’ll send you some money to tide you over till you get a new client. Also means no Paris. Sorry, I just really gotta focus on cleaning up the image over the next few months. You understand, don’t you? You know you’ll always be my favorite girl.”

There was a long pause that made Michael check to ensure the call had not been disconnected. 

“Yea I understand. Just a few months though, right? Then you’re droppin’ the new girl?” 

Michael rolled his eyes before nodding, though she could not see him. “Of course, baby. Just a couple months and then she’s gone. Promise.” 

They shared a few pleasantries before Michael hung up and prayed she did not call him again for a while. His fingers itched to text or call Raven and explain. But something stopped him, the part of him that still adamantly rejected his feelings toward her roaring. He did not owe her an explanation, he did not owe her anything but the money he paid for her dates. She did not ask for an explanation either so why would he volunteer one? Those two parts of him battled until he threw his phone to the side in frustration. 

He sighed and took a deep breath as Allen pulled up in front of his family home in the hills, his oasis, Raven’s perfume still lingering in the car… that hint of lavender danced on his nose. He fell asleep with that phantom smell haunting him, Raven finding ways to pop up in every dream he had that night, leaving him no escape from her or his feelings for her. 

***

“Here you go.” Michael handed her an envelope filled with cash. “I’ll be gone by the time you wake up.” 

Raven nodded and stored it in her overnight bag before grabbing her clutch. They were finally alone after being poked and prodded all afternoon by his stylist and glam teams to get ready for the premiere. They had ten minutes before the car would be there to take them. And then Michael would be jetting off at an ungodly hour to New York and then Paris for press. Raven was actually a bit sad to see him go. 

Though they never discussed the Tasha debacle from her birthday two weeks prior, she and Michael were slowly but surely getting closer and closer each day. They had had an event or something to go to almost every night, Raven was shocked at the amount of money she had been able to make in such a short window of time. Even helping her sister with her lawyer, she felt as if she could actually breathe easy for the first time in a while. And on the nights they were not together, they generally texted or talked on the phone at some point. They hadn’t had sex again, Raven finding any and all excuses to avoid that since he was still seeing Tasha. He never pushed or seemed angry, albeit a bit disappointed when every date ended with her asking Allen to take her home. It was petty she knew it but she did not care. She had no interest in competing with Tasha, she knew who would win every time. 

“Thanks.” 

“You sure you’re gonna be good while I’m gone?” 

Raven glanced at him and rolled her eyes as she threw her lipstick in her clutch. She did not quite understand how the small bag was even functional, it did not even fit her ID. But Michael’s stylist said it fit the look so she did not question it. “Don’t flatter yourself, Mr. Jordan. I’ll be just fine without you for a few weeks.” 

Michael came up behind her and laughed. “You ain’t gotta pretend like you ain’t gon’ miss me, baby girl. I mean… you know, financially. I’m in New York for a week then Paris for a week. That’s a while without dates. I can slide you some extra if you need it.” 

Raven bristled at the idea, she did not want him to view her as a charity case. 

“No,” she responded shortly, immediately regretting the sharp edge in her tone as his face fell. “S-Sorry. No, thank you but I’m good.” 

“Even after your sister’s legal shit or whatever?” 

She let out a small huff. “Yea… she managed to pick the most expensive lawyer below the damn Mason Dixon line but I got it covered, I think. And with this,” she gestured toward her bag. “I’m good on the other stuff too. Seriously, you shouldn’t worry yourself about my finances. I always figure it out.”  

He grabbed her wrist to stop her from walking away from him.

“It ain't charity or worry. Don’t want you stressin’ and shit while I’m gone. And I like to know my friends and everyone on my team are good. You’re both… why would I treat you any differently?” 

“I just don’t want you to feel like you have to take care of me. Or fix my problems.”

“You’re here fixin’ my problems. I can’t  return the favor?”

“Because… that’s not what we agreed to. This is a job, you pay me… we go out. That’s it. My family shit has no part in this and isn’t your concern. I’ll deal with them.” 

“Why do you?” At her raised eyebrow, he added, “Deal with that?” 

“You don’t give up on your family. You reach out your hand even when they swat it away. And one day, they’ll see all I’ve done for them and how much I love them and they’ll come around.” 

“Seems to me that you let them bleed you dry as if it’ll pay whatever debt you think you owe them. And they seem content with lettin’ you bleed out in the street.” 

She chuckled mirthlessly. “They’re all I got… so I don’t have much of a choice. It’ll pay off. All of it,” she forced more conviction in her voice. “One day.” 

“You really believe that?” 

She turned to look at him. He could tell there was genuine hope in her eyes, true belief that things would get better. A dreamer, indeed. 

“Yea… I have to.” 

“I dunno... There’s gotta be better out there for you… you certainly deserve better.” There was a not-so-small part of him, a part that grew with every moment he spent with her, that desperately wanted to be that more for her. 

“This world is filled with people who deserve better, Michael. But we’re stuck with the hand we’re dealt until better comes along. And I don’t see any better hands coming my way. Just a long game of this shitty hand,” she whispered the last part under her breath as she checked herself in the mirror once more. She grabbed her clutch and started toward the door. “You ready? Car should be here, right?” 

He hated how resigned she was to her fate and treatment. He had more than enough money to give his family and friends, more than enough for them to take advantage of if they chose and none of them did. Raven had none of that and still gave her last to people that clearly did not appreciate it. And to know, she had every intention of doing it under some misguided belief they would thank her for it later broke his heart. It reminded him of how pure and kind-hearted she was but he knew her efforts would likely be wasted. But he would have loved to be proven wrong. 

He did not know her family so he knew it was wrong to judge them but all he felt was red hot anger. Quite frankly, the only benefit he saw to the reality that this arrangement was fake was that he would not have to meet her family himself. He did not know if he could even sit in the same room with them. 

“Before we go… got somethin’ for you.”

Raven raised an eyebrow, “I don’t need a gift. It’s your special night.” 

“Yea but wanted to give you somethin’ to remember me by. It benefits both of us, don’t worry.” His face was a sly smirk that told her the gift was not a normal one. “But first, Tasha and I aren’t hookin’ up anymore.” 

“Michael… you don’t have to…” 

He shook his head and interrupted her. “Nope. You didn’t let me finish that night and you’ve been weird about it ever since. So now, I’m talkin’ and you’re gonna listen. It’s ok to be annoyed. We should be exclusive. I called her and put that shit on pause until our arrangement is done. We’ve only hooked up once since we started dating and it was early on. But either way, you don’t gotta worry about her callin’ or me seein’ her while I’m with you. I got my hands full with you anyway,” he winked at her. 

Raven tried to limit the smile that wanted to blossom at his words. She was happy to hear she was not “competing” with Tasha as she thought. It was a narrative her own insecurities and anxieties created and fueled, a narrative that now seemed foolish. She still did not know why it mattered so much to her. Or rather, she knew, but she would never admit it out loud. 

“So we’re good?” 

“Y-Yea we’re good. Wasn’t worried,” she lied, trying to make her voice sound aloof and unbothered. She did not know why she bothered, she supposed she did not want her pride to be anymore damaged than it already was. 

Michael merely pursed his lips and chuckled before nodding toward the bed. “So you ready to be my slut again or am I still on pause?” 

Raven smiled. “I’m all yours.” 

“Good. Lay down for me, panties to the side.” 

Raven laid back on the bed, hiking up her dress to her waist so she could part her legs. She pulled her thong to the side, Michael licking his lips as he took in the mess between her thighs. 

“Already so wet for me. You missed me too, huh? This is gonna be fun,” he muttered to himself as he pulled a gold vibrator out of his pocket before sitting on the bed beside her, careful not to ruffle his perfectly-tailored tuxedo. 

He wasted no time sliding the vibrator inside her, Raven moaning lightly at the intrusion, the way his finger brushed against her clit. She wanted more, desperately. Her hips rolled to find his touch, his hand, her body begging for more action. But he denied her. His other hand fiddled with something small that looked like a remote control. 

“Know what this is?” 

“No, sir.” 

“It’s the controller. Tonight, you’re gonna keep that in you and I’m gonna have a little fun with this.” 

Raven let out a shaky breath. “Y-You expect me to keep this in… while we’re at a movie premiere? No way.” 

He nodded, a mischievous grin in his eye. “I recall you wanting to explore some fantasies. You tellin’ me sex in public ain’t one you’ve had?” 

She bit her lip as she contemplated it. The idea was certainly an intriguing one… but the risks?? 

“When would you use that?” 

“Whenever I want. That’s the fun part… for me anyway. And you’re gonna spend the night making sure that sexy ass face when you cum isn’t plastered across TMZ tomorrow.” 

Raven shook her head. “I dunno, Michael. I’m all for risk but this seems insane.” 

He let out an exaggerated sigh, his voice playful and teasing. “I thought you’d be up for it, thought you wanted to have fun but I understand if you’re too scared.” 

She heard the challenge in his voice. He was testing her, trying to see if she was really up for anything. She could not deny that the idea was intriguing. Having her orgasms at his mercy in public? Per usual with him, she knew she could say no. But as she ran over the risks, all she could think of was the thrill of it. She wanted it. She hated that she wanted it and hated that he knew she wanted it. But she did. 

She sat up and swung her legs off the bed. She clenched her muscles to ensure the new addition to her ensemble stayed tucked where it needed to be and she shimmied the delicate fabric of her gown back down to its proper place. 

“Car’s waiting,” she offered with a smirk as she grabbed her purse and walked out of his bedroom, deciding then and there that she would win whatever game he was playing tonight, and would show him that she was indeed up for any and everything. 

Michael watched her ass sway as she exited and smiled. 

“Gonna have a lot of fun with this.” 

***

Raven was so overwhelmed by the screaming fans and reporters and flashing lights that she almost forgot about the “gift” nestled in her core. She kept her smile bright as she and Michael started down the red carpet, his arm tightly wrapped around her waist. 

He looked down at her like the perfect image of a doting boyfriend, with love and protection in his eyes. He played the role so well, Raven almost caught herself falling for the act. But she supposed that was a good thing because it made her glances back at him more genuine. She knew they looked like the picture perfect couple, every gossip site raved about them after every date. She knew tonight would be no different. 

She was so focused on keeping her smile intact and her eyes from blinking too much as they stood on the red carpet that she failed to notice Michael slip his hand into his pocket. Her smile faltered for just a second as she felt the device come alive, sending shock waves directly against her g-spot. It was a steady soft buzz, just enough to make her feel it, causing the heat to rise throughout her body. But it was not enough to overwhelm her.  

Once she got over the initial surprise of the vibration, she was able to recompose herself with ease. She played off the change in her expression by adjusting something on her dress and continued posing with him.

Minutes passed and the vibration continued at its low pace, Raven enjoying the small jolts of pleasure. This was what she was supposed to be worried about? This was a piece of cake.

She leaned in and kissed him softly on the cheek before turning her head from the cameras and whispering in his ear, “This is easier than I thought it’d be.”

Michael let out a deep laugh as if she had told a funny joke and pecked her sweetly on the nose, continuing their slow march down the carpet. 

Raven genuinely felt like she could deal with that all night as she listened to Michael give an interview. She remained tucked at his side with a smile on her face. The interviewer did not really ask her any questions, thank God. So she just smiled and concentrated on keeping her thighs together. 

“So Raven, I have to say, you look gorgeous. Who are you wearing?” 

“Th-” her words were cut short as the vibration pattern changed, this time a long vibration that steady increased before pulsing against her g-spot and starting over again. She coughed awkwardly, pretending as if she had swallowed wrong before saying. “T-thanks. V-versace.” 

Her answer was clipped and short, afraid her words would betray her if she opened her mouth. This was far different, this was ecstasy. Each vibration felt like the slowest, most tantalizing march up a mountain before someone pushed her back toward the bottom to do it all over again. And that pulse at the top? It sent a shockwave through her that made her see stars. Each time, she felt her fingers grip the fabric of Michael’s tuxedo jacket harder. The longer it droned on, the more her legs started to shake. 

“You ok, baby?” he asked sweetly, kissing her on the cheek innocently. 

“Y-Yea, of course.” 

“You two are so cute. Thanks for chatting with me and I can’t wait to see the film.” 

Michael said his goodbyes to the interviewer before guiding Raven away. 

“What’s harder?” he whispered in her ear as they walked inside the venue. He stopped her in the corner of the giant atrium before they walked into the screening room and tucked her against a wall in a corner. Only official photographers were allowed at this point. To anyone passing by, they just looked like a couple having a sweet moment.

“W-what?” She found even such a simple word laborious to get out and it sounded more like a moan than a word. With him mostly covering her body from view, she could not stop the way her hips rolled as the setting changed again. The pattern was the same but the cycle was faster, the intensity overwhelming as he  increased it to the next setting. 

“What’s harder?” he leaned in and whispered in her ear so lowly she almost could not hear her. “Keepin’ that pretty smile on your face when all you wanna do is close your eyes and bite your lip while you cum? Hidin’ your moans so no one here knows you’re a loud filthy slut? Or stoppin’ yourself from beggin’ me to fuck you in the bathroom over there?” 

She felt as if her entire body was in a frenzy. It was not just the vibrator, it was his hands gently pressing her to the wall innocently, it was the courses of people walking by them having no clue that she was on the cusp of the greatest pleasure of her life, it was that she could not stop it or him if he decided he wanted her to cum right then and there in front of everyone. 

“A-all… of it,” she whispered, her face burying itself in the nook of his neck, which helped hide the pleasure swimming in her eyes but only increased it as she took in his scent. His signature cologne had become intoxicating to her. 

“You wanna cum for daddy, baby?” His words were a light whisper that they knew could not be heard over the conversations and music playing throughout the hallway. 

It was taking everything in her not to collapse in front of him, his arm around her waist was the only thing keeping her standing. Her legs were pure jello, every inch of her body was on fire, boiling with pleasure and humiliation at being brought to orgasm at the nicest event she’d ever been to in her life. All she wanted to do was cum but she did not trust herself to hide it. 

“P-Please…” she whispered. She did not know if that please was to stop or to keep going. 

Michael smirked as he felt her hips buck against his again. She was so close, he could see it in her eyes, feel it in the way her hips ground against nothing but air. It was subtle, not obvious to anyone else from the angle they stood at but he could feel it. 

“Beg.” He demanded. 

She clenched her eyes closed. All she wanted was to fall over this particular edge, right then and right now. She was so close, so close, it was almost agonizing to hold it in until he gave her permission. She glanced down as his finger hovered over the button to increase the setting again, knowing that she could not will him to hit that button. She would have to give him exactly what he wanted, what he always wanted. Submission. 

“P-Please… m-make me cum,” she muttered in his ear. “I-I need… it… p-please.” Tears stung in her eyes as she struggled to fight the urge to let go right then and there, hearing her own needy voice in the space. 

“Hm.” he offered quietly. “I don’t think you deserve it.” And with that, the vibration stopped completely. 

Raven could not stop the groan that escaped her lips as he stole her orgasm, her body screaming and protesting at her in pain at the sudden loss of pleasure. 

She let out a soft gasp as she glanced up at him. “You mother-” 

He leaned forward and kissed her deeply, completely silencing her. Raven’s entire body fell into his as they kissed, she could hear the soft snapping of a camera nearby on her right side. 

He offered her the sweetest smile before leaning to her left so the camera could not catch what he was saying.

“If you wanna cum at all tonight, I wouldn’t finish that sentence.” He straightened up and pressed his lips to her forehead, his arm still around her waist. His voice returned to a normal volume as he fixed her hair and ran his hand over the front of her dress. He looked like he was helping her adjust herself but he also wanted to make sure there was no evidence of their crimes. “It’s time for us to go to our seats. You ready?” 

Raven felt like she had whiplash from the last 5 minutes. He was good, far better than she gave him credit for at these games. She thought this was just going to be a fun experiment. But Michael never did anything small. And she was foolish to underestimate him. 24 hours ago, she would have never thought she would enjoy something like this. But now? She could play this game all night long, even though she was losing miserably. 

She peeled herself off the wall, her own hands running against the bodice of her dress. Her legs still felt a bit wobbly so she wrapped her arm in Michael’s to steady herself. She nodded and allowed him to lead her into the theater. 

She barely paid attention to the movie as she spent the entire two hours watching Michael like a hawk. Every time he shifted in his seat or moved one of his hands, she wondered if he was going to turn the vibrator back on. Halfway through the film, she realized it was not because she was dreading it. She wanted him to. She was internally willing him to turn the stupid thing back on, even if it was only at its lowest setting. Because even at the lowest setting, she knew she was sensitive enough to get where she wanted to be. She wanted to feel the tidal wave of pleasure, she wanted to drown in and bask in it and feel the adrenaline of doing so in public. Besides, the dark theater seemed like the perfect time if he truly wanted to push her completely over the edge. When she wasn’t praying to God that he would turn it on, she was wishing it was his fingers or his dick filling her and not a toy. 

She needed him so bad and truth be told, would have begged him to fuck her right then and there if they weren’t surrounded by hundreds of people. 

However, nothing happened. He paid her no attention throughout the entire film except for the hand that rested on her thigh. The minutes ticked on and on and on as the cast went up on stage to say a few words when the film ended. By the time they finally finished and were in the car to the afterparty, she was a horny, disgruntled mess. 

She kept her eyes trained on the window, even though it was tinted, when she felt Michael slide into the seat next to her. Two could play the ignoring game, she decided. 

His hand slid into the slit of her dress, pushing the expensive material to the side so he could have full access. When she did not part her legs for him immediately, he let out a disgruntled growl that was meant to be a command. She pretended she did not hear him and ignored it. 

He merely shook his head and laughed. “Aight, baby girl.” He pushed her knees apart with his hands, it took everything in her not to moan and keep her face stoic. 

His fingers immediately slid into her panties, the heat of her arousal hiting his skin before he even made contact with her body. He caressed soft circles into her clit. She gave him nothing, no moans, no humping into his hand. Nothing. So he upped the ante and turned the device on to the highest setting it had available. 

“Fuck!” She cried out, unable to keep it in as her body was assaulted with pleasure. The vibrator was more than enough to make her cum but adding his thumb against her clit was just simply unfair in her opinion. 

His free hand grasped her chin, firmly but loose enough that it was not painful and forced her eyes on him. Her breathing was heavy as she felt pleasure building fast in her core. Tears pricked her eyes, not from pain, but overwhelming, soul shattering pleasure, “You wanted me to make you cum in that theater, didn't you? In front of all those people like the filthy whore you are? Didn’t you? Upset that I ignored you? But guess what, baby girl?” he switched the setting to a lower one to keep her on the cusp of pleasure without sending her over. 

She let out a soft sob of agony as he held her there, suspended right at the cusp of her orgasm. This was more tortuous than him stopping cold turkey because she was so close she could taste it. And he kept it just out of reach. Every pulse, every caress of his finger was so much and overwhelming but still was not enough. And there was nothing she could do to force him to give her more. 

“Your body is mine, your pleasure is mine. And I decide when to fuck you, when you cum, when you suck my dick… I decide when you’ve been good… when you’ve been bad and what to do about it. It’s all mine. You can ignore me all you want but see how quickly you fell apart? You can’t win against me, baby girl. Daddy always wins. You understand?” 

She nodded rapidly, her body shaking lightly as she teetered on the edge, pleasure was consuming her every cell. She could barely think of anything but the raging inferno in her core.  “I-I understand. P-Please…” her voice broke. She felt as if she would quite literally perish if she did not come soon. He had never kept her on edge this long, a few seconds sure. But time was stretching into minutes. 

“You think you deserve it?” 

She didn’t deserve it, she knew the answer he wanted. “N-No, no… I’ve b-been bad, a bad girl. I d-deserve to be punished b-but I’m begging you… l-let me cum. I c-can’t… P-please,” her voice begged him for mercy. 

Deciding that she would pass out if he continued this game any farther, he pressed the button to return it to its highest setting. Her scream was nearly inaudible as she came on his fingers, her body shook as she gripped the door handle, shuddering through an intense orgasm. 

“That’s it, cum for me,” he whispered in her ear. “That’s a good girl…” 

“Thank you, t-thank you,” she babbled back to him as he talked her through her orgasm. He turned the vibrator off completely, finally giving her a break. 

“Allen, circle the block a few times.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

At the sound of Allen’s voice, Raven’s eyes flew open and shock and humiliation set in. She had just cum… with another person in the car. And she had completely forgotten he was there. Once Michael had started going, the presence of another human being in their vicinity had completely vanished. She glanced up, surprised to find the limo divider up. She didn't even know when that happened. However, she knew that that barrier was not sound proof. However, instead of being utterly turned off by that idea, it just turned her on more. 

“You like knowing Allen heard you?” Michael whispered in her ear. 

“No,” she shot back as she fixed her dress and used the compact mirror she had stored in the limo before the premiere to fix her makeup. Thankfully she still looked pristine, despite feeling physically depleted. She did not know how she and Michael went round after round when one orgasm made her want to cuddle up under the covers and fall asleep. 

“I keep tellin’ you how much I hate lies. But you never listen. Might think because we have a long night and I got an early mornin’ that you’ll escape punishment. But you won’t. Means I have a couple weeks to think of the perfect punishment for such… insubordination.” 

“Don't threaten me with a good time,” she offered with a sweet smile and a wink that made him laugh. 

He did not get a chance to retort when Allen pulled up at the venue of the after party. He gave Raven a once over before getting out of the limo and grasping her hand. He longed to bury himself inside her but he knew he did not have time, at least not enough time to satisfy the urges he had. And while he would toy with public sex, this was not the venue or event to be caught fucking in the bathroom, as much as he wanted to. 

No, he supposed he would just deal with cold showers for two weeks until he could fuck her again, and spank her until she begged for mercy. Her pleas had done something to him, sweet music to his ears. The perfect orchestra. And he would use every free moment of the next few weeks to think of ways to get that sound again. 

***

Michael rubbed his eyes as he scrolled through his email. He knew he would sleep well on the plane. He hated the first thing in the morning flights but he knew they were the only way to keep up with his crazy press schedule. 

“We’ve arrived, Mr. Jordan,” Allen called from the front seat, Michael immediately hopping out. Allen grabbed his sea of bags as he waved at his castmates who were also just arriving to the tarmac. 

“Thanks, man. See you when I get back. Make sure Rae gets home ok today, aight? Then enjoy your time off.” 

“Thank you, sir,” Allen responded as he handed off his bags to the baggage attendants who would ensure they made it onto the plane. 

Michael started to walk away and head to the flight when he heard his name behind him. 

“Mr. Jordan!” Allen called after him, causing Michael to turn around. The older man jogged up to him. “A word of advice? If I am not overstepping my bounds?” 

Michael nodded, allowing the man to continue. Allen rarely spoke, he was the type who liked to do his job quietly and fade into the background.  And he preferred to keep it professional with Michael though there were a few topics they could shoot the shit over while in the car like basketball and the like. But Michael knew that meant Allen likely knew more about him than anyone else on this planet, which meant he would have been a fool not to hear him out. 

“Avoiding love and companionship, even when it is right there waiting for you to take it, will never bring you happiness. And some would say such an ill-guided venture was foolish and selfish, particularly when the world is filled with people like Ms. Turner who love and seek out love with their whole souls and it's denied to them at every turn. And you may be a bit selfish, Mr. Jordan,” Allen admitted. “But I never pegged you as foolish.” 

“What’re you sayin’?” 

“I’m saying that it does not matter how this whole thing between the two of you started. It only matters how you end it. And whether you are brave enough to admit to her and yourself that perhaps you don’t want it to end at all.” Allen patted him on the arm before taking a step back. “There’s no reward for loneliness, Mr. Jordan… no Oscar to win for denying yourself more when you know you want it. The only prize those actions will give you is a lifetime of regret. And I believe you’re living a life too bright to have it dimmed by regrets.” he paused. “I hope I have not overstepped too much. But… well, there was a time a decade or two ago when I would’ve liked someone to overstep and tell me that.” 

Michael stared at him for a few moments before he nodded. After his last very public and embarrassing breakup, he vowed never to fall in love again. Years of women warming his bed before he kicked them out before sunrise. He got what he wanted and gave nothing of himself… to any of them. But Raven… from the moment he watched her staring out that window, he gave without even realizing how much he had given. And now, he felt things for her that he had not felt for a woman in so long. Hell, he wondered if he had ever felt this strongly for another person in his entire life. He wanted more… not a contract or a business dealing. He wanted her. Was he being utterly foolish by pretending that was not the case? 

 “You did… overstep.” His tone was a bit cold but he was unsurprised at how Allen did not backtrack or shrink. He said his piece, called him out and was willing to accept whatever the consequences of that were. “But maybe I need more people to do that. Will you do me a couple favors when you go back to the penthouse to pick up Raven?” 

“Anything, sir.” 

***

Raven groaned as she turned over in Michael’s soft bed. She had fallen asleep in his master bedroom alone, as she always did when they slept here. He always took the guest room. She wondered if she should be more sad that they slept separately but she agreed that that was not intimacy either one of them truly needed. She groped around the bed for her phone, groaning when she realized it was already 11 a.m. Thankfully, she had another two hours before her shift but she knew she needed to hurry up so she could get home and change into her real clothes, not the fancy designer ones she kept there. 

She pulled herself out of bed and stretched, part of her sad that Michael opted to go to sleep instead of fucking her. She understood he had an early day but she could not deny that all she wanted was for him to bend her into a pretzel after that orgasm in the car. But last night was, for the most part, strictly work. They did not get home and go to bed until 3 am and he had to get up shortly thereafter to catch his flight. And now she was left with nothing but a vibrator and fantasies of him to occupy her until he returned. But he had succeeded in giving her something to remember him by. She walked into the kitchen to grab a glass of water, rubbing her eyes as she dragged her feet across the hardwood floors.

Michael gave her free reign of his penthouse, even when he was not there. She did not spend the night there often but she had started to learn her way around, figure out where the sparse things he kept there were. A few dishes, a couple glasses, a fridge filled with coconut water and little food. When she slept there, so did he. But she had never really stopped to wonder where he spent the rest of his time. She guessed he had some giant mansion in the hills like every other star. But she wondered if that one was just as cold as this one, just as void of comfort and love, just as sterile. 

She guessed it was not. Otherwise, he would have her come there. No, that one was the sanctuary for the real him, she imagined it was warm and overflowing with his favorite things. Japanese anime artifacts and art and memorabilia and his awards and family photos and all the things that meant something to him. And this one was merely for his image, sterile and artificial. 

She blinked a couple of times, shocked to find a neat and perfectly packaged gift bag waiting on the counter with a long envelope sitting up against it. 

She sucked her teeth and chuckled, “This nigga. I thought I said no gifts,” she muttered to herself as she grabbed a glass of water and sat at the barstool. Part of her contemplated not opening it. What had he even given her a gift for? Her birthday was weeks ago. But her desire to know what he got her won out. 

She went to the envelope first, her name written in handwriting far too nice to be Michael’s on the front. She flipped it over and smiled as the person had written on the back: Open me last :) 

“On the other side of the damn country and still giving commands.” 

And you’re still following them, she imagined his voice shooting back at her as she placed the thick envelope to the side and reached into the bag. She made quick work of discarding the multi-colored gift bag paper to reveal two books. She pulled the first one out. 

“Whoa,” she muttered as she took in a first edition copy of I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings. She turned it over in her hands, mouth agape as she studied it. It was beautiful and she knew it cost a pretty penny.  

Her hand reached into the bag and pulled out a book she knew all too well. Her own. An odd gift, she thought, though she supposed it was sweet that he went looking for it in the first place. She wondered how he found it as she published under a pseudonym but she imagined a man with his resources could find out almost anything he wanted with time. 

She flipped it open as she sat back down on her bed, a smaller envelope the size of a card falling out of it. He had stuck it in on the acknowledgements page, which read: From one dreamer to another. 

She opened Michael’s card and took in his handwriting. 

Thank you for sharing what you did with me on your birthday. I know the day isn’t easy. And apologies that this gift was so late - but I figured this was a loophole in the no gifts rule if you got it weeks later? And it took some time to track down your book. You didn’t make it easy. I’m looking forward to reading it on my flight. I generally agree with everything you say but I would disagree with one thing you said that night. The first time we met, you said Maya Angelou’s book saved you and gave you hope. I’m sure somewhere in this world, a young girl is reading your book and it’s doing the same for her. That’s something good that came out of October 15: the world got you. And that’s worth celebrating in my opinion. 

I hope, one day, you see that too.

Happy Birthday

Michael 

Raven let the tears that streamed down her face fall, one of them splashing against the glossy cover of her book. She wiped it away before rereading his card over and over again. She hated how he seemed to see her, really see her, and everything she truly needed. There he was again, caring more than anyone else, more than he should have, even when she was mad at him.  It just made her want him for every reason she shouldn’t. She should want to fuck him… she should want his money… That was all she signed up to get. A few months of cash and to let him dick her down better than she ever had been before. All her problems and loneliness solved, at least temporarily.

Instead, her heart and soul were slipping deep into dangerous territory, he was dangerous territory. She still tried to force herself to resist it, her body hanging by a rope that was fraying at the middle as if an invisible force was taking an ax to it. And she did not know if she wanted to scramble back onto the ledge or let herself fall.

After a few minutes, she picked up the other envelope and slid the folded up pieces of paper out of it. The first one made her gasp… a flight confirmation for a first class ticket to Paris dated for one week from today. The second page was a short list of the things she should pack.  And the third was her hotel confirmation, a suite at a hotel she could not even pronounce but one quick google search let her know it was one of the nicest and most expensive hotels the city had to offer. 

The last page only contained two sentences in Michael’s handwriting. 

I hope you have a passport. See you in one week.

Raven spread the pages out on the counter, her face paralyzed in shock. 

“What the actual fuck?” She examined all of them, rereading as if the information on them would vanish or change right before her eyes. But the flight confirmation had her name on it, the hotel room… her name. It was all there in black and white. He was inviting her to Paris. 

“I should say no…” she spoke to herself, a false ring of conviction in her voice. “I can’t accept this.” Her internal debate raged as she paced up and down by the kitchen island, her eyes studying the papers with each pass. 

You know you want to, the devil on her shoulder reasoned. And fuck, did she want to. It’s fun… when’s the last time we took a trip or did anything fun? 

She had never wanted to accept anything as badly as she wanted to accept this. She chewed on her lip so hard she was surprised she did not draw blood as she debated and debated. Until her phone buzzed with a text from Mr. Surprises himself.

Michael: damn you sleep late as hell. 

Michael: Am I gonna see you in Paris in a week?

Raven: This was a huge gamble… What if I didn’t have a passport? 🤔

Michael: It was a huge gamble but not because of the passport. Consider it PTO… Come live a little. 

Michael: So did my gamble pay off or nah? 

She read through the papers one more time, deciding then and there that she was 100% going to Paris. Even her pride could not allow her to deny herself this experience. However, she decided to make him sweat a little, though she doubted he actually would. 

Raven: I guess you’ll find out in seven days. Thanks for the gift.  

Raven locked her phone before chuckling to herself. She grabbed her phone and the itinerary page and let out an excited squeal and did a happy dance before she raced off to her closet. She had a trip to pack for. 

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A/N: Wellllllllll… a lot happened! A little angst, a little fluff, a little smut lol just gave y'all the full spectrum of things. And it wouldn't be one of my fics if I didn't give you a character or two to despise along the way lol

Next chapter, we go to Paris, which not gonna lie… that wasn't in the OG outline of this haha but inspiration struck and now I'm very excited lol Drop a comment and let me know all your thoughts lol Thanks for reading!