#so there’s gonna be plenty left to do after November anyway

[dahldahlbills]

nano day 20-25

20- 1952

21- 771

22- 643

23&24- 0 (don’t look at meeee I didn’t have time lol)

25- 2233

Total word count: 32149, 25885 towards main wip (!!!)

I didn’t realize how many days had gone by without updating lol but it’s fine bc it’s not like anyone’s really keeping track

anyway it’s v apparent I’m not hitting the 50k BUT IT’S OKAY! I’ve made peace with it. It was p dumb of me to start the month going “I just wanna write as much as I can” bc obv I was setting myself up for disappointment. So if I’m able to reach just 30k on my main wip, I’ll be happy.

Also patting myself on the back for reaching +25k, I think the 30k will be v feasible with the remaining 5 days. That’s <1k a day!

Also finished the 12th scene! We’re over a third of the way through the project :D (which admittedly is around where I hit my typical story middle slump, but I’m hoping I can remain consistent after November)

[simptasia]

How did girls and Charlie handle their periods while on the island? Were there any pads/tampons available? Or was it all lost or in small quantities?

I've thought about this!

First of all, yes I do think there are pads and tamps on the island, as there would have been plenty in assorted luggage. This program just didn't think this needed to be addressed on a show that was about survival for it's first,,, half a season? Indeed, in all of LOST there are two acknowledgements that periods exist:

Claire saying she's late when she's taking a pregnancy test

Kate going from suspecting she's pregnant to being absolutely sure she isn't, implying she got her period

And I suppose in between eps, Sun must have been late for hers in order for her to suspect she was pregnant

Overall, LOST only acknowledges periods when it absolutely has to, and even then is rather hush hush about it

Anyways, I think post crash, Sawyer did his little magpie thing and gathered up everything he could get his greedy hands on. This included period supplies. Then as time went on, more and more ladies came to him for supplies. And this freaked him out, so he was like "oh fuck this" and literally threw the bag of bleedy supplies into Jack's arms. And from then on, it's Jack who's in charge of that. And he's entirely not weird about it, because he's a fucking surgeon

I don't care what goes on in reality, I choose to believe that a man who has literally had his giant hands in people's spine pasta, wouldn't be too bothered by the fact that vaginas expel meat pulp

The first 4 seasons covers 3 and a half months so thats about three periods for every uterus having person on the island. However! There are varying circumstances at play here!

Let's go thru this, character by character:

Shannon: Dies a month and a bit into this, so she had time for one period, maybe two depending on when in the month she has 'em

Claire: She was pregnant until November 20th. So no periods during that time frame. After which, she would have had very heavy post pregnancy bleeding, but not for very long, because the magic of the island would have made her body recover much quicker than regular people. Then she would've continued periods somewhere in december onwards. And for three years she was all on her lonesome but she had access to the survivor's abandoned camp, so she would have used up the last of the bleedy supplies until eventually running out and. free bleeding. Fucking hell

Sun: Got pregnant very early into the survivor's time there. And gave birth after they left. So she had no periods on the island

Kate: Probably had time for a complete three periods, with at least one that she was a little late for

Charlie: Mostly doesn't get periods, like, his are incredibly irregular. This leads to him believe that his T patches make good enough birth control. He is wrong and stupid. So maybe he bled on the island, maybe he didn't. If he did, he would have never in his life asked Sawyer for period supplies. He'll bleed into his crotch socks

Ana Lucia and Libby: Did not have access to the Sawyer and later Jack controlled Period Supplies. Because everything was worse for the tailies. Also I think being shot 4 times in the uterus means Ana Lucia can't get periods anymore. Tho as I typed that I realised the Island could easily fix that. The Island fixed Jin's balls. So there's a thought for ya: Ana Lucia getting periods on the island and being like,,, what the fuck. what the Fuck. cuz that's a literal miracle

Charlotte: Was only on the island for 16 days and I'm gonna be nice and say she wasn't on her period during that time. Because 1. She was bleeding enough and 2. To spare her the indignity of asking for pads from people who don't like her :(

Juliet: Girl lived in a cult commune for 3 years, so she's good. Had time for maybe one period with the losties, and for sure Jack would hold open his jackpack and proudly display the tampies for her

Final notes: Fair to assume Rose is post menopausal. Woe be to Alex when she got her first period, not due to lack of supplies (again, cult commune) but because it made Ben even more insane. Annd finally, pour one out for Danielle Rousseau. 16 x 12 = 192. Give or take

Oh and the dozen or so background ladies of the survivors too. So either there was a lot of supplies or they run out maybe after the second month? I dunno man, either way Sawyer got overwhelmed

Side note: my Mum liked to point out when ladies tummies are bloated in shows because that means the actresses were on their periods (their voices would get a tad whinier too). She did this a lot when we watched LOST. There ain't no rest for the fertile

Tho, if you also wanna be weird and take notice of this, Kate's tummy isn't bloated in season 6 due to period, Evie was literally pregnant

Just some trivia for ya

Thank you for your time

[spectresbase]

Naughty November Day 11

Collected Tweetfics from the 11th day of my Naughty November project. Themes for this set: Bi-Curiosity - Primal/Rough - Bondage Hope you enjoy the little bites of smut!

It'd started as a game. Now JAlter was pushed to her limits just trying to keep up. She'd unlocked something wild in Jeanne, pushing her 'innocent' counterpart into a primal heat that threatened to scorch her to the core. Screaming, JAlter came again. Jeanne howled with her!

Wrists cuffed to the spreader bar behind her back, Kim knelt on the bed. Clamps teased her nipples and a bullet buzzed between her legs. Once she was set, Ron kissed the top of her head, ran a finger over her clit, then left to watch a movie. She'd be ready when he came back.

It's mating season, and Nidalee's chosen you as her mate. Down on all fours, her back arched impossibly, she throws herself back against you, meeting every thrust with a feral intensity that has you certain one load won't be enough to satiate this kitty. She'll want it all!

Catching Selina and Dick in the midest of the wildest, hardest sex she'd ever seen sent conflicting needs through Babs's head. She wasn't sure which of them she wanted more. So she split the difference. Offering her ass up to Dick, she sucked his cum straight from Selina's cunt!

When her assassination attempt failed, Cheshire found herself right up and personal with Batman, both of them breathing hard. They could've kept fighting... Pinning her to the bed, he drove his hips forward, pounding into her as she bucked up against him, growling for more!

"I'm not so sure about this..." Shikanosuke eyed the dick bouncing inches from his face. "Shouldn't this be a solo class?" "Nah!" Hebiko giggled, kissing Kotarou's head. "I like group lessons!" For somebody hesitant to start, Shikanosuke sucked dick like a pro! With Kelly's fat ass clapping with every thrust, B170 was too caught up in the moment to think about it when Jerome's thick cock slide into his ass. Only later, as cum ran down his cheeks, did he realized he'd just been fucked by a guy. Huh... He looked at Jerome. "Round two?"

Last night had been so wild Asuna hadn't bothered to untie herself after they'd finished. She'd just passed out. When woke she was sore, still tied up, and hungry. Knocking cereal into a dog bowl, she was three bites in before she realized eating like this was making her wet.

"Iigabis me!" A flick of her wrists sent a streamer of ropes shooting from the end of her wand. In seconds, Hermione was bound in intricate knots that displayed as well as restrained. Grinning, she looked at Luna and Ginny. "We doing this hen night right or what?"

She'd had plenty of guys tell her 'she just needed the right dick' but this was the first time Kate actually wanted to try one. Well, not one... Caught between Batwing and Azrael, her body their battlefield, Kate had to admit it was fun. Be better if they had tits though...

When it came time for Ben to perform his husbandry duty to Looma, she would not be content for a simple pump and dump. If he was to bed her, it would be like a warrior, with plenty of aggression and passion. He would breed her properly, or he would break in the attempt!

Accepting the dark side showed Rey the true pleasures of the galaxy. Pleasure she was eager to impart on her new subordinates. Phasma hung from the binders, legs spread. Power licked at her clit, and she moaned into the gag. Moans became screams as Rey took her fully.

It was purely for science. Stephanie had only dated women until now. So had Kevin. So this was new to both of them. They swore it. But if that was true, these two roommates were the two best natural cock suckers you'd ever met! Balls twitching, you came a fifth time.

Being created it was entirely possible his heat cycle had been engineered into Stitch. If it had, Nani was gonna have a long talk with Jamba. Just as soon as she got feeling back in her legs. And as long as she was stuck in bed anyway... She started sucking Stitch hard again.

Adam was a gentle lover, even as the Beast. It was sweet at first. Was... Grabbing his hands, Belle brought them up to her own throat. "Choke me! I want it rough. I want to hurt tomorrow. Fuck, I want to hide bruises when I talk to the girls next week. I. Want. To. FUCK!"

It wasn't just a fat ass the Imperial agent gave Bo-Katan. It was damned sensitive! Every time she got near him, he'd swat her ass and she'd double over fighting back a climax. She was gonna wring his little neck! Just *AH* as soon as she stopped cumming!

[j4gm]

OK SO UH

https://www.ign.com/articles/adventure-time-obsidian-release-date-trailer

ADVENTURE TIME: DISTANT LANDS OBSIDIAN TRAILER IS HERE!!! GO WATCH IT!!! OBSIDIAN WILL RELEASE ON THURSDAY THE 19TH OF NOVEMBER. THAT’S ONLY TEN DAYS AWAY.

Anyway, here’s my trailer breakdown. This is kind of just an emotional outpouring of everything that stuck out to me so sorry if it’s a little rambly.

Right off the bat I’m curious to know what’s going on with Princess Bubblegum. We saw at the end of the finale she was hanging out in Marceline’s house, and similarly this trailer depicts her having domestic moments with Marceline. So is she still ruling the Candy Kingdom? Has that responsibility perhaps passed on to somebody else? Or am I reading too much into some establishing shots designed to tell the viewer that this is set post-finale? Who knows.

The song in the background is, of course, “Monster”, the song sung at SDCC by Olivia Olson. We’ve already heard the full song, but it’s nice to hear a cleaned up studio version. I wonder when in the episode it will actually be sung, and whether or not it will be diegetic.

It looks like we’re going to be getting plenty of new Marceline and Bubblegum outfits over the course of the special. Even the establishing shots of Marceline’s house featured three different ones, which makes me think these shots will actually appear as a montage in the episode itself. It wouldn’t make much sense for them to change clothes over the course of the same scene otherwise.

Okay, as much as I want to, I’m not gonna fill this post with every Bubbline shot because I’m sure there are plenty of people doing that already.

THEN THERE’S THIS FUCKING SHOT:

The little girl on the right is almost certainly Marceline, but who is the person on the left? Simon, Marceline’s mom, and Hunson all come to mind but don’t really match the mysterious figure. It could be some kind of weird hybrid flashback scene where young Marcy is leading adult Bubblegum through her past. Whatever the case, this is clearly shortly after the war, and I am standing by my theory that the Glass Kingdom could be located in the Earth’s crater.

I don’t have a lot to say about the Glass Kingdom and its inhabitants. These are new characters and locations and it remains to be seen exactly how they will tie into Marceline and Bubblegum’s story. The animation and background design is looking exceedingly good, though. Again, this landscape doesn’t really match any of the deserts we’ve seen in Ooo so far, which makes me think this is somewhere else on Earth.

A fun Easter Egg: This shirt Marcy is wearing is the shirt given to her by Hunson in the episode “Marcy & Hunson”:

It’s interesting to see that what a lot of people assumed were spacesuits is actually motorcycle gear. I actually checked if Marceline’s motorbike is the same one she rides in the Thunder Road graphic novel, which would have been a neat tie-in, but unfortunately it’s not. Also I love that Glassboy has been duct taped to the back and covered in bubblewrap.

Oop there’s the storyboard we’ve seen. Seems like Marceline has been summoned by Glassboy to come and defend the kingdom against this mysterious dragon and its dark minions, which is pretty much what we already knew from the bits and pieces of plot information that have already been revealed.

It’s cool to see Bubblegum putting her elemental powers to use. She didn’t get much opportunity to show them off before the show ended. So far, most of the spotlight has been on Marceline, so I’m also interested to see what role Bubblegum plays in this story, and how her character will develop.

Also THE MORROW IS BACK! Bubblegum’s trusty mount was last seen helping her perform recon over Gumbaldia before the finale, but it looks like they’re getting back into the hero business this time.

We already know from the screenshot Muto posted that there is going to be a visit to a human gas station, but this looks more like some kind of bomb shelter. This is certainly one of the darker shots I’ve ever seen from Adventure Time. It looks like we’re going to be getting a lot more Mushroom War lore. Marceline’s dejected stance here makes me think this place has some personal meaning to her. If that skeleton turns out to be her mum or something I will never stop crying.

That’s all I’ve got for now. There’s probably some stuff I haven’t noticed. I haven’t looked at anyone else’s reactions or thoughts yet, I went in totally blind.

There isn’t long to wait until the special now! I was certainly not expecting a November release. Expect an Easter egg/lore breakdown from me when it drops!

Farewell for now!

[all-things-fic]

Rekindled

A/N: Firstly, I want to say a massive thank you to everyone who nominated me as November Author of the Month. I wasn’t expecting that at all and it was a lovely surprise!  Secondly, here is Rekindled. Hope you all enjoy it!

This was originally meant to be for @majorharry​‘s 20k challenge, but I failed on that front. It’s a long one so grab yourself a brew / beverage of choice and get comfy!

I’m about to disappear again as I usually do and start working on my Christmas fic, as well as those Quarantine Harry updates.

Tonight had started out like any other Saturday evening. 

You had been out with friends. Cosy little pub off a cobbled backstreet, in a secluded corner. Very British. Very cramped. All old wood and leather bound seats. The slight smell of stale beer in the air and plenty of chatter that sometimes had you shouting to ensure the friend sitting two people away from you was able to hear. 

This was a pub that you frequented for quite a while now. A pub that made it so some in your friendship group could grab a proper ale, while others opted for more of a fruity alcoholic beverage. A real all rounder. Did a nice roast on Sunday - eat in or takeout, choice was yours - for a reasonable price by London’s standards. 

The minute he had walked in, you had noticed him. You could recognise his hunched shoulders anywhere. Forever silently willing him to stand up straight and embrace the way his height made him tower over some of his friends. Rather than have him try and make himself smaller. Part of you believed it was to buy him time so he wouldn’t get noticed whenever he knew he was going to be in particular place for longer than an hour.

He had been joined by a male friend. Someone you also knew quite well. Someone who you had seen quite recently actually. An art showing over at Cob Gallery being the reason for your meeting which hadn’t happened too long ago. You remembered the invite being shoved through your letterbox, a far cry from when he used to shunt you a quick text and write your name at the bottom of the guest list using Sam’s kohl eyeliner on the evening of the event itself.

You’d taken the piss out of him that afternoon, a quick phone call telling him that he was “no longer the Tomo Campbell I know”. 

That had been two weeks ago. So, you knew it would be rude of either you, or him, to not acknowledge the other. And you knew he would be the one to cave in. 

And you were right.

Tomo’s friendly brown eyes had glanced at you one too many times, over Harry’s shoulder for him to not give you - or anyone else who may have made the meeting slightly awkward - away. 

The continuous trailing of his gaze had in fact caused Harry to chuckle awkwardly, joking at how he wouldn’t let Sam know of his wandering eye as they shared a night on the town. The joke fell short though, as did his chuckle, when at the last glance over Harry twisted his body around to see what all the fuss was about as he leaned against the bar and let his eyes fall onto yours.

You broke his gaze, reaching forward for your balloon glass full of gin and pressed your face as far into it as possible. A feeling filled you that made you hope the hot flush you felt underneath your skin hadn’t started to give away your unnecessary panic. 

See things with you and Harry hadn’t ended badly. In fact, it was more like a fizzle. A bit like the sweet that pops against your tongue. Sometimes you enjoyed it and other times it was unfulfilling, some would say annoying. The latter explained the ending.

No big fights. No fat, hot tears rolling down cheeks. No loss of voices from slanging matches and screaming until the early hours. It just... Ended. 

That fizzle was what made it amicable. You both breaking it off to go and do your own thing. Neither openly keeping up to date with the other, but still absolutely aware of what was going on. In your case that was a lot easier, in his not so much. However, Harry somehow managed to master the art of leading questions without seeming too much of a beg with mutual friends.  

As he looked on at you taking the longest sip from your drink, he had smiled awkwardly before he allowed his eyes to roam the scene of your group of friends and tried to analyse what met his gaze. A group of eight, men heavily outweighing the women with their five to your genders three. 

He would definitely class himself a liar if he was asked about where his mind had gone, and he said that it hadn’t gone to queries around relationship statuses and potential partnerships with any of the men around the table.

He eyed them, all five of them. Definitely wasn’t the guy three people away, neither was it the guy sat diagonally opposite you. They were blonde, definitely not your type. Well, blondes hadn’t been your type the last time he had been between your legs.

His eyes had been zoned in on the guy that had his back facing him, he wasn’t sitting directly opposite you. Instead he was seated in the opposite seat, but one. Better positioning for someone who wanted to obtain a cheeky glance and still be inconspicuous to the group around him.

“I’m gonna have to go and say hello,” Tomo pulled Harry out of his trance, his eyes lifting up from the beer mat that he had been tapping agitatedly against the bar top once he’d turned away from the scene. 

“‘S fine wi’me, mate,” Harry softly smiled, reaching for his drink and taking a large sip. 

“Come an’ get it over with, H.” 

Harry had quietly eyed Tomo after his open ended suggestion of joining him. His eyes slightly sceptical at the proposal but somehow his legs took over his decision making as he trudged behind his artist friend and got introduced to those faces he didn’t know and acknowledged the ones that he did.

Pulling up a pew at the table had been a lot easier for Harry than he had expected. Dragging the wooden stool to sit himself in between you and the guy to his right, who he now knew to be Conor and the person he really wanted to know the name of was Joe. Joe was a wanker- well, banker. Same difference, right? 

Conversation wasn’t always smooth sailing. The larger group helped however. Also helped him get his moments with you and you with him. Moments that neither of you had known you needed before being sat with his knee brushing yours, due to how cramped your table had suddenly become. 

And it was sweltering now. The bare knee of your ripped jeans, knocking against Harry’s bare knee from his ripped jeans as he edged himself closer to the table wanting to catch what the topic of conversation was down at the easily the “laddier” end of the table. 

Harry had fit right in. Of course his demeanour changed with certain people. Those he had already been in the presence of those years previous were immediately hit with morbid delivery and sarcastic humour, while others were met with his sometimes hard to crack shell. 

And like always as the night had gone on the crowd had tapered off. Some had decided to go onto a club, an offering your declined not wanting to spend the night with people rubbing up against you and feeling like one of the oldest people in the room.

Some of your friends had gone back to their other commitments, like Tomo who made it quite clear he didn’t want to miss his “curfew” that Sam had given him considering he was the one on swimming lesson duty in the morning. 

That ended up leaving you and Harry. Surprisingly a pairing that you hadn’t expected to happen that evening and even more surprising, one that you weren’t particularly dreading.

You knew it had something to do with the gin, and definitely had something to do with the tequila. 

Part of you was thankful for the less than responsible drinking habits you had taken that evening. It allowed you to remain calm as your ex-boyfriend sat across from you looking like time was on his side and aging was being kind to him.

It was definitely being kinder to him than it was to you, anyway. 

Bastard. 

Conversation had been a mixture of light and heavy. Harry showing you a series of different pictures he had taken on his travels as he jetset around the world with his album and his modelling contract (that he adamantly assured you wasn’t a modelling contract), and basically just his very healthy bank balance.

The heavy had been you bitching about the contract project you had been working on and asking him if he would be willing to potentially commit a serious crime with you against one of your colleagues. He’d quipped he probably wasn’t suitable but he was sure he knew a guy. 

At one point, his eyes had dropped down to your pedicured toes in your black strappy heels. When he managed to drag his eyes away for your feet,  and rested his chin on the inside heel of his palm, you knew he wanted to say something. 

“‘M pretty sure we have matching pedis,” he groused, voice so low that if you hadn’t been watching his mouth you wouldn’t have caught a word of what he had just said.

Eyes flicking up to his green gaze, you saw the light shimmering through them. Clearly he was amused by your expression of shock and potential bemusement from his statement.

“Sod off,” you chided, pushing gently at his arm. “You’re joking.”

“‘M not darl-“ he cut himself off with a clear of his throat. “‘M not, an’ if yer lucky later I might take m’socks off to prove it an’all.”

“Not sure if I like the insinuation of there being a later.” You paused for a small amount of time, before adding, “Nor the confidence in how you said it.” 

“God loves a trier and so did you, once.” 

He eyed you from the corner of his vision, mouth wrapped around the lip of his glass as he knocked back what was left of the alcoholic contents inside. 

You were sure he hadn’t meant to let that one slip but there was no way he was going to let his expression give him away and silently confirm with you that thought. 

How had the two of you picked up as if you hadn’t missed a beat? 

“You never did mind me keeping them on though, did yer?”

That was enough to break his gaze. To cause a silence you didn’t know how to fill. To suddenly make you feel incredibly parched as if you hadn’t been necking gin after gin, all evening. 

“How yer getting ‘ome?”

His question cut through it all. His voice of concern, matching his watchful gaze as he looked up at you from the empty glass he had begun twirling on the mahogany wood. 

“Was just gonna Uber it back.”

“‘M a fifteen minute walk from ‘ere, d’ya know tha’?”

“I do know that,” you acknowledged, eyes looking over at him and seeing the way his hair had begun to curl close to his temples from the way he perspired in the heat of the pub. 

“‘Course you do. Done that walk a fair few times ain’t we?”

You hummed. The feeling of your lips lifting into a soft smile at the memories of the two of you walking hand in hand through the dark London streets. Harry with his head down, trying to look inconspicuous. Also, so he could watch his feet and try his best not to trip up over them. 

The times he’d done that thing you loved. Where he would forgo holding your hand and instead walk slightly behind you with his arm wrapped around your shoulder and across the top of your chest. His lips heavy against your hair as he hid his face and chuckled breathily against the shell of your ear when he hadn’t been watching his feet and indeed, tripped. It was always inevitable. 

“So wha’s another nigh’?”

And really what was another night? Other than potentially a messy morning. 

Not before long you were wrapping the chain handle of your bag across your body and tottering out of the booth you had occupied all night. 

Silently you had battled with yourself as to whether you should use the bathroom, but didn’t think you needed it considering how you hadn’t had the rush of pressure usually felt when you were really desperate to relieve yourself.

Shame the feeling didn’t last as you felt a huge gust of cold wind, thanks to London autumn air, washing over you. 

With your arms folded around your body as you walked, you tried your best to shield yourself as the lights of passing cars hurt your tired eyes. Harry had been talking to you about all sorts of rubbish, filling in the gaps of dead air that weren’t taken up by the noise around your both.

“My shoes are going to be fucking ruined,” you grumbled, hearing the sound of muddy stones clacking and crunching underneath your heels. 

Harry chuckled at your obvious disdain, keeping himself close to you in the dimly lit area. The stride to his walk was confident, a little more power behind it than unsteady. He had consumed drinks, but not enough that he didn’t realise how close both he and you were to his home.

As you walked, your eyes surveyed the area. A group of people were getting closer, a few hoods lifted making it hard for you to figure out their make up. 

Before you could give yourself time to think, you unravelled your folded arms and reached down for Harry’s hand. 

“Think we could cross here,” you spoke, a chatter to your voice both from the cold and this unusual anxious feeling. Your eyes darted over the road, left and right before you turned as the group approached you. 

A boisterous boom of laughter left one of the groups mouth, causing you to sharply look back down the street. The grip of Harry’s hand against yours changed, his fingers taking your traditional hand hold to one of interlocking digits. 

He felt moved by the way you appeared to still hold the desire to be protective over him. 

“‘M alrigh’,” he pulled you to him, using his hand and causing you to turn your front and press into his side. “Jus’ let ‘em pass us.”

You silently nodded.

“‘S just a couple’a lads walking ‘ome after a night out,” he mumbled. “‘S all it is. You’re alright.” 

This feeling felt foreign as you felt a tightness in your chest while you stood still with him in the middle of the street. You hadn’t expected to feel any sort of hesitation but you, like everyone else, had heard about the incident which had taken place with him. Virtually on the doorstep of his own home too.

Harry offering you comfort and reassurance just as quick as you were to do so for him, had you finding a weird source of strength and confidence. He welcomed the pressing of your forehead to his cheek, knowing if he tilted his head slightly his lips could brush so tenderly against your forehead, your temple. He would most likely get a smell of your shampoo, wondering if you still used the same as before. 

The grip of his hand loosened against yours, his clammy palm, which felt soothingly warm, ran up against the long sleeve of your top. It curled around your neck, holding you securely to him, before he wrapped his arm around you.

Then he dropped his lips, them pressing to your temple and then lower to your cheekbone. He lingered, his breathing slightly quivered as the noise from the group got louder. 

You lifted your head slightly, Harry rearing up just in time to ensure you didn’t headbutt him. His chin was soft as he looked down at you; it took the edge off. His eyes were manic as they moved, there was no mistaking it but everything else about him came off so calm. 

He blew out his shaky sigh, causing you to dart your eyes over his and gently push up onto your tiptoes in your heels to softly kiss his lips. You knew he wasn’t expecting it, you didn’t even know what you were doing before you did it. Yet, you relaxed the minute he drew you even closer using the arm he had curled around your upper back to hold you close.

A wolf whistle caused you to smile against his lips, as he did the same. His gentle breathy laugh bouncing against your lips as he chanced it and pressed pecks against your lips in quick succession. 

“Evening lads,” Harry nodded his head once he came up for air, making sure he got a good look of two of them and making sure they knew that he had. They cheered in praise at the two of you and your public display, threw out a couple of slightly lewd and alcohol fused comments at the scene. One even going as far as to take the red and white striped scarf from around his neck and whip it furiously above his head. “Someone’s ‘appy. The Arsenal must’ve ‘ad a win.”

You nodded as you eyed them, completely embarrassed by the way you had misread a group of loud football fans for violent thugs. You weren’t necessarily far wrong, but still. 

Chattering teeth caused Harry to pull you close to him. “Let's get you in before you catch your death.” 

***

Shoes had been left at the door. 

The aching balls of your feet grateful for the cool wooden flooring and curling into the luxurious fabric of the rugs currently beneath them. 

You’d watched as Harry toed off his obscenely dirty Vans, and walked ahead of you towards the back of the house. The place where his envious lounge and open plan kitchen could be found.

Harry’s home had this way of being welcoming, no matter how long it had been since you had last graced its presence. You assumed he’d made it this way for a reason, especially when that reason was his way of life. Leaving for long periods of time to then return again, to pick right up where he had left off. 

And in many ways, that was how you felt about the current situation. 

Handbag now discarded at your feet, you sat with your side resting against the back of Harry’s teal velvet couch. Surrounded by expensive scatter cushion after expensive scatter cushion, a collection he had amassed during your time apart. 

He was playing the playlist. Not just any playlist, the playlist. The one he would always turn on, volume low, so it was more of a hum than anything else after you’d gotten back from a night on the tiles and fancied a night cap. 

You didn’t need to zone in on the sounds. It so happened that you had heard the playlist so many times before that you didn’t need to have it blasting through the speakers to know the track list. It was burned into your brain and would be for a very long time.

The worst thing of all was that he knew. He just knew. 

His lips had taken on this quirk. Slightly upturned more so on one side of his face than another as he stood at the kitchen island, feeling your eyes watch him as he put together his perfected cheese on toast supper.

It was an offer you couldn’t refuse. A large glass of Cabernet Sauvignon held loosely in your hand as you whispered along to the song playing in the background, mouth watering at the thought of the carby goodness Harry was preparing for you both under the grill of his oven.

The smell that filled your senses was delightful and exactly what you needed to soak up the alcohol you had previously consumed, never mind the alcohol you were about to. 

“Do you want any brown sauce on yours, or ketchup?” You heard him talk louder as the tray he’d been cooking on clattered against his oven hob. 

You stayed silent as you watched him, tea towel over his shoulder as he plated up your toast while his mouth barely sang along to the playlist. Gently lifting the bread off the grill before letting it drop quickly from his grip to the plate because of how hot it was. 

He looked up at you from under his brow, hair fallen into a middle part around his face. His eyes enjoyed the way your legs had curled up beneath you as you rested your right cheek onto your hand and fondly watched him.

You seemed relaxed to him, albeit amused. 

“Don’t even think about laughing at me when ‘m cooking for you.”

You smiled - cheese on toast was hardly cooking - pulling your glass of wine to your lips and taking a sip. “Don’t know why you don’t just get a knife and fork, you numpty.”

“Saves on the washing up doing it this way,” he winced as he dropped another slice to the second plate. 

“And makes you lose your fingerprints in the process.

Harry shook his head as he pressed his thumb to his lips and licked the sore burn, before he gently blew against it. “Never did answer my question,” he reminded, wiping his hands on the towel thrown over his shoulder.

“Ketchup’s fine. Ta.”

Watching him reach across for the bottle of Heinz, you saw him squirt the sauce onto your plate and then saw him do the same to his own. 

Seemingly happy with his work, he whipped the towel off his shoulder and to the side, before scooping up the two plates and striding over to you with ease. 

“Voila,” he spoke, offering you the answer to your predicted hangover prayers, in cheese on toast form.

Reaching forward, you gently took the plate off his hands with both of yours and let your eyes drop down to the melted goodness. Keeping your eyes down you took in the decoration that Harry had added. He’d taken to drawing a smiley face onto the top of the cheese using the ketchup.

“You’re such a silly sod sometimes,” you spoke, lifting your eyes as you watched him drop down onto the couch next to you and get himself comfortable.

Legs up on the coffee table in front of him, almost horizontal with his plate gently resting atop his rounded stomach. Head tipped back and vision lazy, his lips tilted up into a crooked smile as he looked over at you. 

“‘S it okay?”

“Looks it,” you replied, lifting up the toast and taking the biggest bite you could muster. Your nose came into contact with some sauce from your hunger-driven vigour. “Proof is in the tasting though, I s’pose,” you continued, mouth full and covered by your hand to avoid him seeing the chewed up contents. 

You hummed as you closed your eyes, enjoying the taste of the simplistic home cooked food and melted goodness. So simple in taste, but so effective. 

From where Harry lounged, he softly watched you. All relaxed, closed eyes, with a drop of tomato ketchup decorating the end of your nose. 

Before you had the chance, and he couldn’t fight himself, Harry reached up to gently swipe at the sauce and remove it from your skin.

You opened your eyes, blinking over at him as he pressed his thumb between his lips and licked away the sauce he had retrieved. His eyes were mischievous as they glanced at you before he took a bite out of his own food and savoured the taste.  

The groan that left his throat as he chewed was a sound familiar to you in other capacities, causing you to squeeze your legs together and forcefully take another bite of your own toast.

“Tell you what? If there’s one thing I do, ‘s make a bloody good cheese on toast.”

You smirked, amused by his boasting. “Nothing like a slice of conceited-ness as a platter cleanser, for afters.”

“Summat much more appealing for afters, don’t worry about tha’, darling. Got you sorted.” 

***

Bellies full and content, you slipped further down onto Harry’s couch. The two of you finding yourself closer together ask you basked in the warmth of Harry’s home.

“You weren’t lying when you said your nails matched mine,” your voice was sleepy as you spoke, right foot hitting Harry’s left slightly as you brought up your earlier conversation at the pub.

He chuckled into your hair, watching you lift your foot and gently place it atop of his. He made a space for it, moving his right leg so that there was an even bigger gap between his feet to slot yours between.  

“I think mine's a bit lighter to be honest,” you continued, eyes scrutinising his painted nails as much as they could from down the length of your body and his. 

“That’s some bullshit,” Harry groused, rubbing his feet gently against yours to warm them, his voice causing his chest to vibrate against your head as it rested there  “I even had it on m’ hands but I’ve been picking at it. Look.”

Harry obnoxiously held his hand in front of your vision, wiggling his fingers causing you to reach for his fingers and hold his hand still. Sure enough, he was true to his word, presenting you with chipped nail polish that was nothing more than the odd tiny dot against his clean nails. 

You smirked when he pushed them slightly closer to your face than intended, “Alright, think you’ve proven your point.”

Hand knocked back he brought it forward again, “‘M not so sure, try again.”

The only response you could muster up was a giggle fit for a schoolgirl, Harry’s response to pull you even closer as he softly smiled. 

A silence overtook you both, as you closed your eyes and let yourself become more intune with the music playing around you. 

Your face was pressed into the side of his neck able to inhale his worn in aftershave and the soft startings of stubble down the side of his throat. 

The silence was heavy and you knew exactly why. Listening to the base of the song across his speakers mixing with your staggered breathing and rising pulse. 

You knew you shouldn’t but you couldn’t help yourself. It wasn’t like it needed attention drawn to it. Yet, the words were tumbling off your lips regardless. 

“This song always makes me…you know.”

The words were mumbled but of course he caught them because he did know. But it was whether he wanted to go there. 

The thought of talking about sex and the sex you had together in a coherent state wasn’t ideal. He wouldn’t have anything to blame his honesty on, if he wasn’t more inebriated than he currently found himself.

“Think we need some more wine for tha’,” he mumbled, lips pressed to your forehead as you hummed in agreement and felt him begin to shift to raise himself from the couch to retrieve a bottle.

***

More wine wasn’t a good idea and you knew it. From the way your tongue was much looser and your lips a lot more numb now. 

The two of you had begun to dance on a weird ledge after he’d refilled your glass. The kind where you were openly flirting and backbiting against the other to try and see who could inflict the moment that had the two of you wincing. 

“Who caught your eye while I was out of the picture?”

“Who didn’t catch yours?”

Harry was sitting on the couch, side pressed into the back of the couch. Leaning with his elbow and allowing his face to rest  in the palm of his hand as he looked at you.

“Alright,” he stressed with a raise to his eyebrows and a quirk to his lips. 

You were a bit flustered due to the way your back bite to him revealed how you were actually caught up in his business of seeing other people when you tried to act like you didn’t care.

Clearing his throat Harry adopted a soft tone to break you out of your fluster.

“There was one girl. Took her to dinner two times.”

You held his eyes with yours, watching the way he slowly smirked, “But you already know that don’t ya?”

Before you could stop yourself, you threw the throw cushion sitting to the right of you, at him.

“Watch the wine,” he said around a laugh, as he raised his wine glass into the air and pushed the cushion to the floor before it had a chance of creating him a cleaning catastrophe in the early hours. 

“Hate you,” you mumbled, turning to your right to look at him from where you had reached forward to put your wine glass down to the table. Before you sat back you ran your index finger against the rim of your wine glass and tapped your nail gently against the base. 

“‘s tha’ why you’re sat eating cheese on toast and drinking wine on my sofa at almost 2am,” he spoke against the rim of his glass, knocking back what was remaining inside.

“I’ve been coerced to be here,” you replied, watching him reach forward, raising his eyebrows at your false suggestion. When he sat back against the couch he was biting back his smile, his eyes shining and crinkles deeply set in the corners.

“Know where the door is,” he goaded, raising his eyebrows again, arm raising to point in the direction of his hallway. He waited for your response and in that time leaned forward towards the coffee table once more, grabbing the wine bottle and topping you up before moving onto refilling his own.

Your eyes dropped down to the rich red liquid as it sloshed against the clear glass. While his words were telling you to leave, his actions were doing the complete opposite. 

Filling the silence he asked, “So, how many dinners am I competing with?”

“Three” you mumbled as you lifted your drink and took a sip for courage. 

Harry’s head titled as he surveyed you, “Bloody hell you didn’t hang around!”

“I have no more cushions left,” you spoke to his cheeky comment with a light hearted threat of throwing something at him for his brazen clap back. “Only my wine.”

He smiled at your warning to throw it all over him before he drawled, “And we wouldn’t wanna waste tha’”

You hummed in agreement, freely taking yet another sip. Finally, something you agreed on. 

Harry kept his eyes on you, waiting. The two of you almost seeing who would cave in first to try and dig for more information on the relations of the other while you were apart. What he really wanted to know was how many men he was competing against. Was it one man three times, or three separate men? 

With all the questions buzzing around his head, he knew it would be him who would give in. 

He was correct. 

“Gonna let me ‘ave a look then? Pull ‘em up on your phone. ‘S only fair. Mine was taken out of my hands.”

His ambiguous comment alluded to the paparazzi pictures of him that had been splashed all over the tabloid online outlets, as well as every other social media platform known to man. 

You didn’t hesitate, the alcohol in your bloodstream almost encouraged you as you reached for your bag at your feet and took out your phone. Said liquid confidence even helped in your handing over of the phone. “Pass codes the same,” you said, as Harry stared at you before he dropped his eyes down to the screen and tried the first code that came to his mind, your birthday.

The screen shook at him, causing a sheepish smile to pull up onto his lips as he thought about his second guess. He punched in the code of your mother’s birthday and unlocked the phone within a short five seconds.

You did notice the stall to his movements, clearly realising how part of this was wrong. It wasn’t his, or your, business to know everything in such detail.

Sensing his hesitancy also, you told him where to find a photograph if he was so desperate for a nose; on your private Instagram page. He took that as a small victory cause he knew you still had pictures of him on your profile that hadn’t been taken down.

You gave him names, knowing that it was an invasion of privacy for the men in question but equally not caring. His thumb was fast as it typed and spelt out the name into the search bar. Harry also not caring at how desperate he was to see his competition. 

“Hold this for me,” he said, passing over his wine glass so that he could cup your phone in both his hands, his undivided attention firmly on his foe. You looked on as you saw him zoom in on the picture of guy number two, who had the chance of a third date.

He was silent as he looked and swiped and read comments. He didn’t know if this was the type of man he was expecting. Had he even been expecting anyone at all?

Running his eyes over the pictures he was greeted with what he could only describe to be your average City man. All overcoats and expensive suits. 

Looks wise, he understood. Perfect five o’clock shadow. Seemed tall enough in photos. Obviously liked a gym session or two. However there was one thing about him that just looked so out of place- 

Breaking the silence, he said, “Can’t even do a tie properly can he?”

“Neither can you,” you shot back.

“Don’t have to when you have someone willing to help.” 

He looked at you from under his brow to see if you were going to correct him. When he realised you weren’t, he continued, “Never been tempted to fix his,” he asked, swiping across to look at another picture. 

“He hasn’t worn a tie on a date yet,” you responded.

Harry zoned in on the use of the word yet.

“What’s he drive?” He asked randomly, continuing the swipe through the pictures with his right thumb. 

“Range Rover Sport.”

“Probably on finance,” he spoke his comeback quickly, expressing his true feelings. It wasn’t going to be on finance but no one could blame him on wanting to throw a cheap shot in some way. “Doesn’t really seem the type to be blessed with the big dick energy. Overcompensating somehow.”

You found yourself biting down against your lips, trying to stifle a laugh. His pettiness has reared itself in less than ten minutes and you could see the way it wove through his features, with a quirk to his eyebrows and a scrunch of his nose. He was dismissive and you supposed he had every reason to be, you were after all sat on his couch. 

“Why do you really think I’m giving you another try,” you smirked, nails tapping at your glass again.

He held your gaze, “You planning on testing me out, seeing if it still works?”

“Might do,” you took another sip of your drink. “Depends if I have the energy.”

“Why do you think I gave you summat to eat?”

You breathed out a laugh as your mouth fell, right hand reaching up to slap him across the top of his arm. He seemed pleased with himself as he locked your phone and loosely held it out to you.

“‘S enough of looking at tha’,'' he hummed, licking gently at his lips. “How did you meet him?” 

Again a breathy laugh left your lips as you stared at him, incredulously. Harry’s eyes easily held yours as he waited on your answer.

“You aren’t in the least bit interested,” you licked your lips, the taste coating them slightly bitter from the lingering wine residue. “Don’t know why you’re trying to make it seem as if you are.” 

“Humour me, darling,” he mused, lips softly lifting. “Or humour him, whichever you prefer.” 

And you know you shouldn’t be doing this, laughing at the expense of someone else in such a way. You saw the larger swallow from Harry too and you knew he was feeling the same. 

However, here you were, giving eyes to a man that you didn’t think would get to see you in such a way again. 

“And why would I want to do that?”

“Cause at least one of us would make it worth your while.” 

You felt your breathing quicken as you held Harry’s eyes. He did nothing to deter you from holding his gaze. 

“You have to stop being so nice,” he added. “If he isn't doing anything for you, that’s okay.”

Reaching forward you rid your hands of your phone, letting it slide against his coffee table. “And do you not think you slightly have an unfair advantage?”

“I think,” he paused, his eyes looking at you. “I think we had something good.”

“Had being the operative word-“

“And I think we could have something good again. In fact I know we could.”

You stalled at his words. The confidence behind them. It was admirable how he was shooting his shot. Especially given you knew how inside he was most likely quaking with nerves.

“Tell him no.”

His words made you chest feel tight, his hand reaching across the distance between the two of you on the sofa. His palm facing up, you slowly lifted your hands to sit in his.

No sooner had your skin come in contact, Harry clasped his hand around yours and softly stroked his thumb to the back of it. He dipped down, lips meeting your knuckles before he tugged at you so softly you almost felt you had imagined it.

He wanted you closer, the arms length distance now too much as he started to show himself to you. His pettiness and his affection, they strangely won you over. Stoked something within you that had you edging further towards him.

Hand unlatching from yours, he lifted his left arm and wrapped it loosely around the back of your neck. With little persuasion you dropped your forehead against his jaw again. 

Harry’s swallow was audible as his fingertips softly stroked at your shoulder. His breath softly fanned against the skin of your temple, his lips turning to press the faintest kiss to your hairline.

“Tell him to piss off.”

You chuckled, breathily, head knocking itself back to look up at him. Eyes light with a sense of joyous infatuation at the moment you found yourself in.

Harry shifted, his right hand quickly discarding both your wine glasses before it placed itself against your hot cheek. The coolness of his slender fingers soothing and welcomed. 

“Tell him no,” he breathed, as his lips hovered close to yours, as he tilted your face upwards to meet his. 

With your eyes closed you felt a sense of guilt, for some unknown reason. It wasn’t like you were committed to anyone outside of the situation that you found yourself in, but you felt slightly wrong for what you were doing. Harry sensed it, able to read the downturn of your lips for what it was. He nudged his nose gently against yours, allowing his eyes to take their time in admiring your expressions and waited on the unnecessary internal conflict to ease. 

“Want me to tell him?” He asked, leaving breathy and wet kisses down your cheek, and along your jawline as you tilted your head back. “‘S not a problem.”

Your mind was swimming as you found yourself sinking back into the couch beneath you. Harry’s voice melting you as he continued talking, “Really get him to take the hint that you’re not interested.”

He kept his face buried against the underside of your chin as it pointed up at the ceiling, hands tracing down your arms and cupping at your hands to press them into his hair as he sucked at your skin.

“I know what you’re doing,” you hummed, scratching at the back of his head, enjoying the feel of his soft locks beneath your touch. 

Harry deeply groaned as you pulled at the strands, “What’s that?”

“Trying to have your way with me when I’m under the influence,” you joked, quirk to your lips. “Always was that little bit more placid that way.” 

You felt the way his lips moved from underneath your chin, finding the corner of your mouth, before he pulled up to look at you. He eyed you, all heavy lidded and messy lips. “You’re not tha’ pissed are ya?”

“No.”

“Then I’m definitely more than jus’ trying.” He reached for your face, lifting your chin and angling it how he wanted. “‘M taking, ‘m begging,” he spoke confidently, unashamed. 

His lips were dominant as they engulfed yours, a groan leaving your throat as your kiss was messy from the offset. His lips puckered and pulled, drawing you closer to him as he breathed through his nose and gave you his tongue.

Your chest was heaving as he skimmed his lips against your face, mouth finding the sensitive skin of your neck once more as you bit down on your bottom lip and tried not to laugh. 

“Charming of you to want your way with me on your couch.”

Harry chuckled against your neck, face lifting shortly to look at you. His pupils were blown out already, as his skin took on more of a rosy flush from the beginnings of his exertion. That or you’d embarrassed him.

“Sorry, I should’ve asked,” he mused. ”Where’d you want it?”

Legs curled gently around the backs of his thigh, still covered by the denim of his jeans, you pressed against them with the heel of your foot. 

“Where’d you think?”

He knew exactly where. You were a simple creature. You liked simple things. Sex was always fun to have all over the house, but depending on the level of intimacy you craved, depended on where you were willing to open your legs.

Tonight was a weird one for you to decide upon. The fumble on the couch, while it was exciting and showed you Harry’s desperation to have you once more, it would be over before you knew it. Also it would most likely leave you with a horrible crick in your neck as your keepsake. 

You didn’t want that. You wanted your keepsake to be the ache in your thighs from how he had taken you in different positions because while a bed was boring for some, it allowed you the option to roll around for as long as your bodies permitted. Bending in all different shapes and ways that sometimes neither of you would’ve been able to imagine. 

He broke you from your thoughts once more, hand gently finding your bum and tapping against it. “Up yer get,” he spoke, starting to push himself up knowing you wanted to go upstairs. 

With your legs curled around his, Harry couldn’t go too far. He chuckled with amusement as he dropped his eyes down to his legs and yours, before looking back up. He didn’t need to even ask as he looked at you, leaning forward he inhaled through his nose as he kissed sweetly at your lips and lifted you.

A smile pulled onto your face, causing difficulty to continue kissing. “Stop tha’,” he mouthed against the corner of your lips, as he hoisted your legs. “‘M trying to take charge here.”

“Why do that when you’re still so good at taking direction?” The lilt to your voice was one of glee, you had easily gotten your own way. 

Tousling your hair and flicking it away, behind your shoulders, you rolled your lips into your mouth as you felt the slight bruising from his expressions of desire. He was watching you as you looked at him, doe-eyes sparkling with intrigue and adoration. 

“Give us a kiss,” his deep voice ignited a warm fire within, as he still tried to assert himself while he walked the two of you away from his open plan lounge and closer to his kitchen.

You continued to eye him, enjoying the way he wasn’t going to back down. You just needed to stand your ground just as much. 

As your bum hit the work surface, your hands traced over Harry’s cheeks, cupping his face before moving to grip at the counter. Head tilted slightly, he looked down the bridge of his nose at you through hooded, dark eyes. 

He stepped in between your wide open legs and enjoyed the closeness that they brought when you brought them together to keep him to you. Heavy breathing filled the silent air as you both traced each other's features with touch and sight. Taste could wait, but it would get here soon enough. 

He gulped as he swallowed. 

“Please.”

At first it was gritty. His voice tight and throat dry. His lips forming the word confidently. 

Again he swallowed. “Please, gimme a kiss. You kiss me, like before.” 

The victorious hum that left his lips was one that you would let slide, as his hands ran down the length of your arms and reached up to wrap around your own. He placed them back onto his face, mouth breaking away as he left open mouthed kisses to your left palm, nose nudging at the end of your long sleeve top where he inhaled your worn away perfume. 

He could feel your pulse as he curled his fingers around your wrist. It was strong and rhythmic, inviting to his primal desire which caused him to gently nip at your flesh with his front teeth.

Turning his eyes back to yours, you silently asked him for another kiss with your soft and slow blinking gaze, knowing he wanted to get just as reacquainted as you did. 

He obliged, pressing closer to the counter and letting his lips meet yours quickly. His quick change in motion caused you to reach behind you to steady yourself, your hand coming into contact with an item you couldn’t identify until you gasped and pulled away thanks to the smashing sound. 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you whispered quickly, trying to catch your breath. Harry’s eyes turned to take a look at one of the daintier wine glasses he had pulled down from the rack earlier but chose not to use. The item now lay broken against the flooring of his kitchen. 

“Really should tidy up before we go up,” he groaned, mouth pressed into the side of your cheek as you surveyed the mess made on his coffee table over the other side of the room. He reluctantly pulled away from you, walking the short distance to the broken glass.

“Watch yourself,” you said, meaning his bare feet around the glass.

Crouching down, Harry started to collate the bigger shards of glass together, stacking them up against the tiles of his kitchen floor. As you peered down, still sitting on his kitchen island, he looked up at you.

“Couldn’t do me a favour? Go an’ grab the dustpan and brush.”

You blinked. Was he alluding that he kept everything in the same place? Given how he’d asked so vaguely, knowing you would understand. 

Softly, he smiled up at you and chuckled around his words, “Same place as last time, yes.”

Taking a while to kick into action, you slowly slid off the work surface and let your feet softly pad over to the other side of the kitchen. The third cupboard from the right, on the lower half of the kitchen was where Harry kept items that Anne had brought him. You know, the things that Mum’s knew would be important but somehow never crossed their children’s minds. Regardless of whether their children were grown adults.

Sure enough, there sat the same blue dustpan and brush. The item was as vibrant as the last time you had seen it, in similar fashion. Leaning down you grabbed at it, shutting the cupboard gently using your foot and walked back to Harry.

You handed it off and heard his whispered thanks, as you rested the side of your hip against his cupboards. 

“Don’t think I’ve had this out since the last time you so elegantly broke one of my favourite glasses.”

You knew he was messing with you but that didn’t stop the blush of embarrassment, hitting your skin, and filling you with warmth. “I’ll replace it.”

“‘M jokin’, ‘s fine. Only a bit o’ glass-“

His sentence was cut short as the two of you jumped, the sound of a phone filling Harry’s space.

“‘S not mine,” he jutted his lips out, as he pushed himself up from his crouched position and carefully walked towards the bin with his broken glass.

You turned towards the noise that was your phone and how it blared from Harry’s coffee table, where you had placed it earlier. Walking the short distance, you reached for it and was met with a familiar male name.

Biting your bottom lip, you swiped across the phone and pressed it to your ear. His soothing voice greeted you, slightly worried in tone as he breathed a sigh of relief.

Letting your feet take you to the kitchen island again, you responded telling him you were fine and how sorry you were that you hadn’t let him know you had gotten home okay.

From over the other side of the room, you watched as Harry quirked a brow at you while he picked up the empty bottle of wine and wine stained glasses from the coffee table in his lounge. 

You weren’t home. You were far from home.

“Who is it?” He mouthed as he got closer, glasses clinking as he placed them onto the work surface of the kitchen island, after discarding the bottle of wine as loudly as possible into the bin. 

You pulled the phone away from your ear showing him the name that he had earlier been typing into your Instagram search bar. Under the dim light you could see the slight squint to his eyes and the way his nostrils flared. 

He darted his eyes from the phone screen and back to yours, watching as you put the phone back to your ear. 

“Yeah I had a great night, ‘m just tired.”

Harry dropped his head, a smirk forming on his lips. You were far from tired and this was nothing more than a moodkill. With his hands pressed to the worktop, he looked up at you as you stood diagonally opposite him. 

Eyes glancing down to your left hand that was spread against the work surface, Harry reached for it. The tips of his fingers running gently between the divots of your knuckles, before his hand slipped underneath your fingers and tugged you towards him.

You slowly obliged him, as your eyes moved to his face. “Come to bed,” he mouthed, watching as your top teeth worried at your bottom lip. His right hand moved to slip around to your lower back as you arched, pulling your chest away from his trying to keep his mouth away from the phone.

“Come to bed wi’me,” his voice was a whisper now, not quite loud enough for the person on the other end of the line to hear but a next step up from how he was previously just mouthing his words to you. 

As he tried to distract you, he dipped in and out of your conversation which was the most monotonous thing he had ever found himself eavesdropping into.

With your chest open to him, he nosed his way along your skin, head nudging at your hand that held the phone. His lips pulled into a smile as you faked a yawn, clearly trying to politely give the man on the other end a hint that you were done.

Still he heard the drone of this guy, who was now even repeating things he had previously said to try and keep you on the line with him. You weren’t interested though, too preoccupied by the way that Harry was once again pressing kissing to the skin that he could get too. 

Before you knew what was happening Harry had clearly had enough. 

“We’re tired, pal. Take the hint,” he spoke into the phone that still rested against your ear, his lips finding the bottom end of the receiver. “‘S time for bed.” 

You had to pull the handset away from your ear, not wanting to hear his reaction from the sound of Harry's voice. You blindly ended the call, keeping your eyes on your ex-boyfriend, whose green-eyed monster had made itself known.

He helped guide your phone down to his marble countertop and watched as the phone was brought to life with a call. The same name appearing on your screen as he tried to call you back.

Harry didn’t take long to decline the call, quickly turning the phone to silent and placing it face up once he’d finished. Again, it lit to life, this time buzzing against his work surface rather than omitting a jarring noise into the silence the two of you shared.

“‘S a bit creepy in’t it?” 

His question lingered as his eyes moved between the phone and you, watching another call ring out. “If he rings again, ‘m gonna answer.”

As expected the phone lit up for the fourth time. However, before Harry could reach for the item you pushed it, causing it to slide against the work surface and away, just enough that it was out of his reach. 

Harry clenched his jaw, his muscle pulsing as he looked at you. “‘S he always like tha’?”

“He’s just realised the girl he was dating is in the company of some other bloke.” 

“Dating or taken on dates? There’s a difference,” he raised his eyebrows. “‘S a huge difference an’all.”

You stared at him, watching him lower his body to lean against the counter with his elbows and wipe down his face in frustration. Unwarranted at that. 

“I don’t like ‘im.”

“Of course you don’t,” you hummed. 

Sharply he turned his neck to look at you, “‘s tha’ supposed to mean?”

“That I agree.”

“No,” he frowned. “It was how you said it.”

“I can handle myself.”

“I’m not-“ he cut himself off, sigh heavy. “I’m not saying you can’t.” 

He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, thinking of how to navigate his way out of this. 

“‘M saying that you don’t always have to,” he dropped his voice, slowly standing and letting his itching hands reach for you. 

With his hand resting against your ribs, you stayed still. He didn’t guide you anywhere, he waited. Waited on your next move. When he felt your stoic figure relax underneath his touch, his tight chest expanded. Maybe he could talk himself out of this one.

“When we tried this before,” he softly spoke, pulling his hand away from you to motion between you both, “We shared the load, started to become a team.”

“Yeah and look where that got us.”

He felt his lips twitch from your negative deadpan. “‘S got you back ‘ere again tonight so ‘m doing summat right.”

Shaking your head at him, he rolled his lips into his mouth trying to fight his pleased smile. He dropped his eyes to the counter below him as he mumbled his sorry. 

“If you were to ask me, I think we did alrigh’.”

“You would say that.”’

You watched as he jutted out his lips, before running his hand down his mouth and facial hair. He leaned on his palm, his eyes taking you in and wishing you would speak.

“My Mum talks about you all the fucking time,” 

“Say tha’ like it’s a bad thing.”

“It is when you’re trying to get over someone,” you glanced at him from the corner of your vision.

“Now why would you want to do that?”

“You didn’t seem to have a problem with it,” you were scornful. He shook his head, clearly amused. 

“I’ve still got half of your belongings upstairs, if you wan’ ‘em. You have no idea.” 

You squinted your eyes at him. Trying to read him. “Appearances aren’t always what they seem. Don’t know how many more times I’ll have to tell you about papers and social media, ‘s all a load of bollocks.”

Standing once more, Harry rolled his shoulders and brushed his hair off his face. Once his hands were at the back of his head, he linked his fingers and turned to look at you. Head resting back on his hands, the two of you held each other’s eyes. Him from the corner of his vision, you dead on. No words passed between the two of you. 

“‘M going to bed,” he sighed, dropping his arms and tapping gently against the kitchen counter twice before pushing away. 

His body screamed dejected as he walked away, his shoulders sagged and head down as he walked through his home, towards the second floor and his bedroom. 

Swallowing thickly, you rolled your lips into your mouth again before you spoke his name. The way you called for him caused Harry to stop his movement, back continuing to face you as he silently waited for your next move after you voiced your plea.

You let your feet take you to him, abandoning your phone on the kitchen island and trying your hardest to ignore the white hot anxiety that overtook your being. 

Close enough to touch now, you looked on at your shaking fingers as they gently reached out for him. Your feet took you as close as they could, arm wrapping gently around his abdomen and feeling it quiver with a nervous exhale. 

Lips against the linen of his shirt collar as you pushed onto your tiptoes, hoping that the wine stain upon them wouldn’t attach itself to the cream garment. His head dropped forward, exposing the curvature of his neck to you as his hand gently slid over yours and he rested his fingers between the splayed gaps of your own. 

Gentle squeeze. Reassuring reminder. 

Take your time. 

“Come show me this stuff.”

***

There was always something exhilarating about someone leading you upstairs. The different ways in which it could play out. Playful with a swing to your hands, sensual with a gentle tug to keep your close.

The feel of Harry’s hand in yours was always wanted. Every stroke of his thumb against your knuckles or the back of your hand, a reminder of the affection you had been missing.

His eyes looking over his shoulder at you as he came to the bottom step of the second set of stairs. A silent reminder that you could back out at any time. 

The floorboards still creaked in the same place as always and part of you hated that you didn’t need him to lead you down the hallway because you knew exactly where his room was. 

However, taking yourself to bed never possessed the same majestic undertone as when someone else did.

You were now sitting with your legs tucked underneath you at the end of his bed, rummaging through the box of things that he had neatly packed together for you so they were ready for you to have back if you ever came to collect them.

Every so often you would pull something out to him, showing it and either sharing a story or laughing. As you looked up at him now, showing a tequila shot glass and shaking it suggestively at him, he looked every inch ready to sleep.

Harry was stretched out straight on his bed, his linen shirt still covering his upper body but the buttons were all undone, revealing his chest and stomach to you. Tattoos on display to your eyes that you hadn’t seen for what felt like forever.

The top button of his jeans had been undone as he got comfortable and his ankles were crossed, with his right leg over his left. His eyes were heavily lidded and blinking slower and slower each time you presented him with a new item. 

Double chin forming from the way his head was propped up, he spoke deeply in acknowledgement of the glass with the less than elegant design on the side. 

“Remember getting through a whole bottle of tequila with that,” he drawled, hands clasping on top of his stomach. “Don’t know why we didn’t just pass the bottle between the two of us.”

“That’s because someone insisted that if we were gonna do it, we had to do it proper.”

“Haven’t got a clue what you’re talking about.”

“That’s convenient,” you deadpanned knowing that there was probably some truth behind his words given how inebriated you had both been at the time.

Thoughts aside you continued looking into the box to see a worn slogan shirt peering up at you. Pushing aside the half empty bottle of perfume that was once your favourite, you silently admired the tee that you knew didn’t belong to you.

A soft smile pulled itself onto your lips. Sometimes nice boy Harry was unbearable. He’d taken to folding the shirt that you adored as if it were on a shelf in a posh(er) department store than usual. Think more John Lewis than Debenhams.

Slowly you pulled the item from the box and enjoyed the feel of the soft cotton against your fingers. You loved that the shirt’s collar was slightly saggy, a sign of how loved it had been.

Your voice left your throat as more of a dreamy sigh than you imagined. “I loved this shirt,” you spoke as you held it up in front of your face, eyes tracing over the blue slogan of ‘Enjoy health. Eat your honey.” and the cheeky looking bee that was drawn within the circle.

Who didn’t love an innuendo?

Without a second thought, you let the item fall into your lap, hands quickly turning to pull at your black v-neck top and reveal your matching black lace bra underneath.

Harry slapped his hand against his eyes, quickly covering them. The sound caused you to look up at him. “Don’t be so daft, Harry,” you spoke, fighting your smile by rolling your lips into your mouth as you saw him splinter his fingers and look at you through the gap he had created. 

“Could give a guy a little warning,” he groaned, continuing to peek over at you. 

Shaking your head, you enjoyed the way the cool fabric fell down the skin of your stomach as you covered yourself once more. You knew if you were to turn your head slightly and press your nose to the collar, a mixture of your perfume and his cologne would remain.

You fought the urge however, as you pulled your hair out from underneath the collar and quickly pushed your hand up the back of the shirt to undo your bra. 

It was almost second nature for you to remove your underwear to get comfy within your comfier clothes and the sagging of your bra cups away from boobs was always a delightful feeling at the end of any night. Drunk or otherwise. 

You pulled at the straps of your bra from underneath the sleeves of your shirt, before diving your hand under the hemline and dropping the item less than gracefully into the box that held your other items.

“Think you’re forgetting who that actually belongs to,” he drawled, head resting against the pillows beneath him now and watching you rummage once more.

“I think you gave up the privilege of wearing this item the minute you dropped it inside this box all neatly folded like you worked a shift at Topshop rather than Manderville’s every Saturday.”

He cackled, head tilted back as he enjoyed your self-righteous indignation and absolute pisstake. 

“All Saints was more my thing.”

“That’s because you’re fake indie.”

He was amused as he shook his head over at you with a silent smile. “And being fake indie is exactly why you decided to live on the edge of Camden and not in the thick of Camden itself.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t once tell me that you’d want to raise a family in Hampstead.”

You felt your face heat up at the way he’d completely called your bluff. “That was when I was young and naive.”

“As opposed to us now? Being old and decrepit.”

Again you were silent as you started to put the items around you back into the worn cardboard box. 

“Why’re still fuckin’ around wi’that box?” 

Your eyes snapped up at him as he kept your eyes. “The only thing you should be fuckin’ around with, is me.”

Raising your eyebrows, you said, “Now who sounds young and naive. Anyway, what happened to you just taking.”

Harry was silent as he took in your words, his body slowly rising from his lounged position and he sat up to approach you. You dropped your gaze down his chest and to his stomach, enjoying the slight rolls of his abdomen as he adopted his new seated position.

His eyes were focused as your gaze found his once more. A soft determination. This sheen to his skin in the lamp lighting of his bedroom, causing him to naturally glow. 

Once he was secure in his upright position, closer to you, Harry snatched at the box with one hand and picked it up to sit it down on the floor at his side of the bed.

He then swooped suddenly, hand scooping around your waist and drawing you to him with squealed laughter. His lips fell against your cheek as he shushed you, aiding you as you moved position to get comfortable. 

“Remember the first time I had you in this bed?” He asked, chest to chest with you. Your mouth was agape with your quickened breathing, as his lips puckered slightly at the corner of your mouth and he gently leant his nose to yours.

You both watched each other through heavy eyelids, breathing mixed in rising anticipation. A soft nudge of his nose as he asked, “Do yer?”

A nod was all you could muster. 

“Was good sex,” he husked, hoodied eyes holding yours. “Was always good sex.”

You hummed in agreement. Feeling the way your nerve endings came alight as you pushed your fingers through the hair at his temple. 

Heat flowed through your body, circling in your stomach as his words echoed. 

“Still gonna be good sex, ‘f you’ll let me. Better even.”

The faintest smile pulled at your lips, causing your eyes to glisten. 

“Eh,” he nudged. “You gonna let me, or tell me otherwise?”

“Personally, think you’re just talking a good game.”

“You know ‘m fucking not.”

Harry pulled you to him, his mouth claiming yours easily. So hungry and intense. Lips that were desperate to show you what you had been missing. Lips that were desperate to wipe away the touch of another, asking you what the fuck you were even thinking in trying it with some other bloke? 

Gone was the brushing of lips, faint and fleeting. Harry’s liquid confidence started to come into play as his lips formed into a smile when he gave you his tongue and hummed as he did. 

Harry cupped your face as he slanted his mouth over yours, soft moans leaving your throat as you kept him close. 

Lips were coaxing, as he groaned between quiet wet smacking sounds that otherwise would have had you cringing. 

Now he had you however, how could he part? Your smell was intoxicating to him, as was the touch of your fingers in his hair and nails gently scratching at his scalp. His mewls were catlike when he pressed his wet lips to your skin.

Breathing now more like a pant, it puffed against your elongated neck as he pulled away and made a beeline for your clavicle and then chest, movements slower. Chestnut hair tickled the underside of your chin and caused the faintest of smiles to ghost across your lips from the way it felt.

His nose nudged the collar of his shirt that sat against your body enticingly. The smell of your perfume everywhere to him. 

Now lower down you found his forehead was pressed to your clavicle as you felt his teeth playfully tug the cotton between them. A puff of air left your nose as you bit down onto your bottom lip to try and suppressed your giggle.

“Smells like us,” he hummed, mouth breathing hot and heavy against the shirt that sat directly above your nipples. “‘S tha’ good.”

Your only response was the tipping back of your head, fingers carding heavily through the hair at the nape of his neck. 

Had he always been this skilful? Vocal, sure. But it never quite hit you like it was doing tonight. His deep hums and moans, his hands spreading so confidently across your back to hold you to him.

And when you cradled the back of his head and pressed that was when you found yourself moaning his name deep from the back of your throat as his mouth gently sucked at your hardened nipples through his beloved shirt.

His name left your lips again, this time  in the softest gasp as a small frown hit your eyebrows and your hips started to faintly roll atop his. He moaned gratefully into your chest, his tongue wetting the fabric of his shirt so it clung to your raised nipple.

As he nosed along the cotton, he found your second nipple, his hand quick to raise to the first and squeeze at your breast that had not been forgotten. His touch wanted - you and it - to know that.

This is what you’d been missing so long. A sense of feeling you had buried somewhere else. Blocking out the way he managed to make you feel more alive than anyone else had. 

With cheeks hollowed as he suckled, you whispered, “That’s nice.”

His hum of agreement vibrated through your chest as he kept his face pressed against you. 

Everything about him became deliberate and slow, his hands now moving underneath your shirt and fingertips gently grazing at soft, warm skin prickling goosebumps in their wake.

Sliding lower his left hand palmed against the back pocket of your jeans, fingers catching against the thick and sewed seams. Hand pressed heavy to aid the soft rock to your hips, tapping lightly to the top of your bum.

“‘M gonna take these off,” he hummed, looking up at you from where his face was still pressed into your chest.

“Are you?”

It felt as if the room spun before you could even comprehend what was happening, a squealed laugh leaving your lips next as your arms tightened around Harry’s shoulders. He lightly lifted and rolled you, your back landing against his mattress gently as your laughter tapered off.

His lips were sponging kisses to your jawline and cheeks, as you felt the backs of his fingers slide gingerly against the exposed skin of your stomach. Slowly you felt the fabric pull away and fall slack against your stomach when he managed to twist the button with one hand, as your arms fell against the mattress and into the pillows that were slightly pressed higher against the headboard.

“Took you long enough,” you goaded, a smirk lacing your lips as you felt Harry pull away and watched him kneel sitting back with his feet against his bum. 

His face was a picture, clearly amused, as he swiftly pulled his own shirt away and threw it behind him. Hands slowly trailed back up to the waistband of your jeans as he lightly hovered over you.

His head found your stomach, the soft skin on show from where the tee had ridden up. Soft puckered kiss, he lifted his head and pressed his chin into your stomach. 

“Last chance,” he voiced, soft. While he wasn’t willing to forget about it all, regardless of the ache he had between his own legs, you had to be in this with him as much as he was. 

Blinking down at him, you moved your hand up to gently push through his hair and without words raised your hips off the bed enough for him to get the message.

The smile that pulled at his lips, was so triumphant you had to knock your head back to stop yourself from chastising him for being full of himself. 

Your hands however couldn’t help themselves as they joined Harry while he pulled your trousers down your legs and watched goosebumps rise upon your skin from their exposure to the cold. 

Now he was at the end of the bed, you dropped your head to the side to look at him. The way he looked as he carelessly threw your item of clothing over to the chair that sat in the corner of his room. 

His eyes slowly came back to you, as he followed his own motion and saw the faintest of smiles dance across your features. 

“What yer thinking?” 

You were thinking a lot of things. Mainly more so how mystical he looked in the soft glow of the London evening that was creeping in through the haphazard way he had drawn his curtains. Your smile only deepend at how it was more so from the street lamp lights than any full moon, but he didn’t have to know that.

Of course he would want to though, because your smile was more so on show now thanks to the thought in your mind.

Harry shook his head as he fought his own smile, dropping his face slightly to watch his hands as he fiddled with his own jeans.

“Whatever’s got you smiling, ‘s doing nothing for my ego as ‘m undressing m’self in front of yer.”

You knew he wouldn’t be able to help himself, which is why you lightly laughed. 

He spoke your name in a pretend warning.

“‘S doin’ everythin’ for you,” you spoke sultry, “Don’t even try it. Got a girl half naked and waiting for you.”

At those words he looked up at you, through his curtains of thick waves that had fallen into his line of vision. 

You breathed deeply, eyes unable to move from his captivating stare even though you knew he was practically naked from the waist down. You knew from the way his upper body moved as he pushed down his jeans; you knew from the sound of the clothes bunching around his ankles. 

Now you found yourself wondering again. Wondering if he still kept his condoms where he had done last time. Sometimes in the bedside table drawer, other times hidden in the top of his wardrobe. 

Were you going to see him twist and turn, get him showing you how white his bum cheeks were in comparison to his infuriatingly evenly tanned thighs and legs? Or was he going to hold your eyes, dip his knee into the bottom of his bed and crawl up you once more so he could grab one from the bedside table.

“Not just any girl,” he finally replied, his knee dipping into the bottom of the bed. You supposed that answered your question. 

“No?”

A small shake of his head. 

“The girl.”

Harry chuckled, giving himself away as he watched the way you relaxed deeper into the mattress as he found your legs easy to accommodate him. 

“I’ve never been the anything,” you emphasised.

With his lips against your cheek, you felt his puffed breath as he responded, “Yea, you fuckin’ have.”

You kept him to you with a hand against the back of his head, fingers woven through his hand unable to not enjoy the feel of his silky locks beneath your touch. Reacquainting yourself with everything that you thought you had lost.

His lips unlatched from yours with a soft, wet sound as your eyes rolled back into your head when he started to trail kisses down your cheek, down your neck once more.

There was no mistaking how greedy they were, his chin knocking yours and his teeth scraping against your skin as he held your jaw with a steady hand in hope of keeping you still beneath him. 

Legs moved from where they were open, softly brushing at his sides so your calves wrapped and touched the back of his thighs. The feel of his hairs against your smooth legs becoming a weirdly exhilarating reminder of your closeness once more. 

Head buried in your chest, you felt him locate the wet patch against the cotton from his previous play and quickly enclose his mouth once more. Warm hands pushed beneath your body and the mattress, sliding underneath and raising your chest further to his face. 

Your mouth fell open as you felt the pressure of his lips and tongue, enclosed around your nipple again, grow stronger. With a hand in his hair once more, you wondered if he was going to take you out of this shirt, or fuck you in it. 

As the pressure lessened, with your head pressed into the bed beneath you, you heard the rustling of his nose and face against the shirt. He rubbed his face against you, inhaling and moving his hands closer to your lower back. 

Hands in contact with your underwear, you felt him smooth over the fabric of your bum. He pulled at your thigh, before pushing at your knees with a gentle but assured touch. 

“If I remember correctly,” he started, voice muffled as his face was still pressed to your breast. “This leg needs to go here, like this. Mm?” 

Clammy hand splayed against your thigh, you felt him direct your other leg, “And this one needs to be a bit lower, otherwise you get cramp.” 

There was a pause, and you could feel the way his lips were twitching atop the cotton of the tee. Matching yours at the flippant comment that was only funny because it was true.

Humming again, he added, “Keep ‘em like this. Keep me here like this.” 

Doing what he asked, you bit back a moan when he moved to fit his palm over you through your underwear. The warmth from it radiating through you, making your throb and giving you the urge to fold your legs in on it.

Tentative strokes were what you received, at first. Up and down, coaxing you and drawing you into him. Then his fingers became more confident, certain in their touch, moving with a sense of familiarity you had been missing. 

“‘S this okay?”

His voice was soft, hard to hear over your breathing and the blood starting to rush around your ears. You found yourself nodding, however. Giving him the permission he desired, making his next movement the easiest. 

His fingers hooked, slipped underneath the thin piece of fabric and the quiet groan that left his lips only had you moving your legs that bit higher. 

“‘S it nice.”

Harry was enticing. From his oozing velvety voice to his careful, barely there touch. You were lost to him. Finding it hard to breath as your body begged for you to be actually - really - touched. 

With a heavy swallow, you felt your eyes fall shut with your slow, deep breath and let your head turn to the side, finding the edge of a propped up pillow to shield your torture expression. 

“Don’t hide from me,” his voice lazily made itself known, as he looked up from under his brow at you and caused your eyes to drop as you looked down your body. He descended lower and lower, hands pushing up at his tee against your stomach, to reveal your bare skin to him. 

Spongy kisses, encased by stubble, pressed into your skin. His fingers never once let up in their tease, touch opening you up for him. The soft twitch of your legs when his fingers landed on your clit, sliding over it. 

“Relax for me,” he hummed. “You good… s’it feel good?”

Confident nod, you swallowed again. Tongue pushing between your lips to lick away the dryness. 

“Okay wi’this?” 

Another nod.

The press of his fingers onto your clit caused you to breathe deeply. A hiss of ‘yes’ as you exhaled. 

“Tell me if it’s changed.”

And you knew what he meant. His desire to know if you still liked things the same as before important to him. 

You couldn’t help the low and long moan that left your throat. Neither could you stop the lift of your hips from the bed as you twisted your body as he stroked at your clit. 

Heavenly ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ were pulled from you. Encased by ‘yeses’ of various pitches. Harry’s nose was buried into the skin of your ribs, having managed to push the tee you still wore to underneath your boobs and in the process expose more of your skin to him.

His mouth sucked against your skin on the inside of your left boob, just at the underside, and from the groan he omitted you knew you were going to be left with an almighty love bite. 

“Oh,” you sighed, as you felt his tongue lave at the mark, again nudging upwards and taking the shirt with him. Tongue over your exposed nipple, alert from the cold and due to your aroused state. 

Your lower half was warm, fire stoked while he stroked at your clit. A sharply exhaled ‘fuck’ from you had him smiling around your nipple. The last time you had found yourself getting this wet - soaked and slick, the kind that meant your walls were smooth and would pull him right in - had been with him. 

A laugh left you from underneath your breath, one not noticed by Harry who was too lost in the feel of you beneath him. The thought of anyone being able to get you this way from an act so virginal was unknown. Of course, he was the exception. Of course. 

“Hear tha’?”

So lazy he couldn’t even ask you properly. 

“Nice an’ wet.”

The slip of his fingers moving lower had you humming delightfully, legs falling open a bit more as his fingers danced at your entrance. The contrast of the heel of his palm to your clit was welcomed, warm but dry in comparison to heavily wet fingers. 

You could feel yourself pulsing as his palm gently rubbed you again, nervous energy had you teetering. Fingers at your center. You wanted them, you wanted him in anyway he would give you himself. 

Quiet, apart from staggered breathing, he smiled to himself when he felt your walls give way to him and his two fingers with ease. Your moan was voracious, a clear need apparent as the edges of it died against your dry throat. 

He knew it was his name. He had heard it like that before. Plenty of times. Said in the same tone too. Sprinkled with incoherent desire. 

“‘S that want you wanted?” He found himself asking. “Should’a just said.”

And you would’ve if you could. But instead your head was tossed back and your toes were curling into the sheets. 

These were the moments he has missed. When he really thought about your time apart. The moments where the two of you were so lost in each other that the nonsense that slipped from each of your lips was met with no judgement but rather embraced. 

Reacquainting after time apart. Rekindling your desires and unspoken love for one another. 

Eyes on your face, he couldn’t  quite see you how he would’ve liked but he did nothing to change it. His own want went out of the window in favour of you getting and keeping yours. 

The smell of you was everywhere as he dropped his eyes and pushed his face against your boobs once more. A man quite willing to suffocate in his need to want more. 

He could feel your falling apart under his experienced touch, relentless and unfleeting now. His fingers curled and with each ‘come hither’ your breathy moans only drove him on. 

“Fuckin’ ‘ell,” he spoke through gritted teeth, the tension in his arm burning at his wrist. Mutters of desperate mantras - ‘come on, come on’ - mouthed to your skin.

And you could - like this - you could. But did you want to?

While you were feverishly hot, everywhere, for him - body unable to stop rolling with each pull of his fingers - your head knocked back and softly shook from side to side. 

“No,” you moaned lightly, “Not yet… Harry.” 

“No?”

His questioning had you dropping your eyes, head still lolled to the side with pouted expression. 

Mind still slightly hazy, you stared at him. He was still in his underwear, very obviously hard. Head nudging slightly, you breathed, “Come here.”

Empty. That’s how you felt when he slowly moved his fingers and left you clenching around nothing but the cold air of his bedroom. 

His right hand was against your skin, middle and third finger slightly hovering away as they were coated in you and he selfishly didn’t want to lose that to your flesh but rather his tongue. 

Legs welcomed him, smoothing around the backs of his thighs once before lifting and using your  feet to try to push his underwear down. 

Harry let out a noise you hadn’t heard in a while, a mix between a grunt and chuckle. The kind that created an aggravated fire within you.

“‘S not gonna work,” he mumbled, eyes closing as he felt the warmth of you against his clothes bulge. Your one thigh lifting to encourage him to roll onto his back.

And he did, taking him with you. A mess of awkward limbs tangling. With shaky knees you climbed over him, eyes down and taking in his underwear.

A pair of black briefs fit him just right, hugged him and holding his straining cock. 

Your eyes slowly rose up his body, his chest lifting and falling with heavy breathing as his chin softened while he looked down at you with his fingers just about leaving his mouth from where he’d cleaned your arousal off of them. 

You felt his eyes peering at you as you lowered down, nose first teasing against the waistband of his underwear before you found your lips pressed kisses to the tops of his thighs. Enjoying a little bit too much the feel of his leg hair against your nose and lips. 

Hand lifted, it blindly sought out the waistline of his pants and allowed fingers to slip inside to pull down the material. 

Just about past his thighs, you locked eyes with Harry. His soft blinking gaze and content smile had you grinning impishly, knowing in the faintly lit room he would most likely be able to make out the blush upon your skin. 

You’d saw but more arousingly heard his cock move as the briefs which encased it gave way and it fell back, heavy, against Harry’s lower abdomen. And that was where it lay, next to the hair in Harry’s stomach and down to his pubic region. 

Small crawl to get you better situated, you flipped some of your hair over to your opposite shoulder and felt him touch the back of your head with a barely there graze as you licked up the underside of his cock.

“Shit, darling,” he breathed, voice blissful above you but filled with a rawness only brought on by sexual vulnerability. 

Looking up his body, you could see the grin that had made its way to his lips. His teeth quick to bite it away, with little to no avail. 

You licked again, mouth moving lower to delicately suck one of his balls into your mouth. 

The groan that left him was husky, right from the back of his throat. The kind that gave you shivers from how unguarded it was. His legs widened against the bed, your eyes diverted to his thighs from his movement. How thick they looked as they flattened beneath you on his bed. 

Wrapping your hand around him, you ran your thumb over the head of his cock. Up and down. Slowly taking in every movement and what it did to him. Just like you remembered.

“‘S this right?” You asked, hand and mouth working him and his balls over. Looking up once more you watched him hum, with the smallest of nods. His lips were rolled into his mouth, dimples prominent as they dipped into his cheeks.

His nostrils flared as he breathed and his hair had started to fall across his forehead from how he’d been dipping his head back into the pillows beneath him.

“Squeeze me ‘ere,” he reminded you, voice holding a slight tremble, his hand encasing yours and encouraging a tighter hold as he leisurely dragged both his and your hand up and down his cock. “Slowly- tha’s it.”

You pulsed between your thighs as you watched him moving your hand with his, each downward pull showing his glistening head more and more. Heavy swallow, you knew he was holding back and you would be lying if you said the visual wasn’t encouraging you to take him in your mouth properly.

Almost like second nature you did exactly that. Licking at your lips as you lifted up and wrapped your lips around his exposed tip. When his hand faltered from the pleased sound you voiced now you were on him, you were able to slip from under his grip and felt him continue to wank as you suckled so teasingly. 

With each bob of your head, you felt his hand pull away more, as your mouth and jaw stretched around his hard cock. 

“Yea’,” he groused, deeply when his hand fell to give way to your mouth and move to shift your curtaining hair. Harry rolled his hips up gently, eager to get the last bit of him down your throat. Old him would’ve voiced it too, but he felt this moment didn’t call for that.

He softly fucked your face, if there were such a thing. The nudges of his cock warming through your core as the throbbing sensation that had been lingering between your legs only grew.

Harry fought against himself to make you gag, teetering on it with each raise of his hips as his glassy eyes barely focused on you. Too engrossed in the filth he wished to voice. 

“God, look at you,” he dropped his head back. Ironic really. Unable to continue looking as he said it. It was tame in comparison to how he wanted to speak.

So, he laughed. Breathy at first, before becoming a little bit louder. You lips twitching into a smile as you lifted off of him and gently tugged before letting it fall and bounce proudly erect. Kissing up his stomach and placing your knees either side of his hips. 

He had almost forgotten you weren’t completely naked until you sat on top of him covered up. Eyes too taken by your face to care, as you blinked down at him with a doe-eyed expression that made him want to lap you up in any way he could have you.

His right hand pulled you down to him, lips greedy against yours as his left hand found the top of your bum cheek, trying to blindly find his cock and guide him into you regardless of knowing it wouldn’t work.

“Like this?” He asked as his lips hovered at the corner of yours, wanting to know if you wanted it this way. “How’d you wan’ it?”

“On top.”

“Me?”

Your voices were breathy as you spoke around the faintest of kisses. Both eager to start from the feel of you both so close to each other. 

The faintest of nods was given to him and it was all it took for him to roll the both of you, further continuing to ruckle up the bedsheet beneath you.

“Do I need one?”

And you knew you should be responsible and not shake your head no at his ambiguous mention of protection. All rushed and breathy, chest heavy as he exhaled in a nervous rush, but you just wanted him. Bare and in you. 

Underwear was quickly removed before you’re resumed your position. 

He watched you softly as you shook your head no, Harry pushing the shirt up under your boobs, your arms wrapping around his neck as he continued to kiss at your jaw and cheeks. 

“Planning on staying over?” 

Feeling him shift up and jar his head back, just enough to get a good look at you, you stared at him not knowing how to respond. It was practically morning now, so hadn’t you already? 

His hands moved your legs as you thought, his one holding you where he needed you to be. 

“Don’t think ‘bout it for too long, darling,” he joked nudging his nose gently against you as he watched the way your lips went against you, smiling at his words. 

“Let me know how long we can go for,” he added, gently taking his cock that was sprung and bobbing between you into his hand. He looked down and tapped it to your wetness, sliding it down with a press of his fingers to the topside of his shiny cock to line himself up.

“Gonna let me have you all night.” 

Your breathing picked up, chest trembling slightly at how much more of a statement those words sounded than a question. An amorous glance looked back at him, slow blinking and head lolled gently to the side. 

“Eh? Sleep in the mornin’?”

A deep and shaky breath had your mouth falling, your eyes slowly shutting as you felt him push in. You were right when you thought about how easily you would take him earlier. Body crying out for a good fuck. 

“Fuck me,” he groaned deeply, head dropping forward and hair hanging down. You reached for him, wanting to see his face.

Harry obliged you, his face turning to find your wrist and pressing a chaste kiss to your skin. “Missed havin’ you like this,” he breathed. Quick bite down to his bottom lips, nostrils flared.

“‘S tight.”

He knew the remark was boyish. Unable to stop himself as he eased out and rolled his hips back into yours. Each push and pull giving you a little more of him. Deep frown etched between his eyebrows as his breath caught in his throat, mouth slightly fallen and lips starting to dry. 

“Haven’t-“ your voice croaked, head dipping into the pillow beneath you.

Haven’t slept with anyone in a while. Haven’t slept with anyone since you last slept with him. Haven’t had the desire to. 

He hummed in agreement as the two of you felt the words fall away from you both. Harry’s concentration firmly on each roll of his hips as he gave you more of him. The rhythm he set being one that you could only describe as intimate. Familiar. 

He was warm on top of you as he alternated between grinding dips of his hips, thrusts that were tantalisingly slow, making your hips roll up to meet him and causing him to smile at how you wanted it. 

He had to voice it. “You want it, don’t you?”

He only knew so easily because he did too. He had done the minute he fucked the whole thing up and let you slip away with his dwindling text messages in response and shorter phone calls every time you had a chance.

Your hand glided to the back of his head, the other down to his bum as you encouraged him to give you his entire weight. He was close but you want him closer. Close was never close enough. 

Was that enough to answer his question of wanting it, wanting him? 

Squeezing at his bum, you fought the urge you had to give him a slap, too caught up into the heavy groan that moulded into your face as he pressed his nose to your skin.

“You make me good,” he lowly gruffed against your cheek, his hand trailing down to take yours from his bum.

Fingers laced and pressed against the mattress upon which you lay, you tilted your head back and pressed it harder into the pillow beneath you. You keened and mewled beneath him, breathy noises of indecipherable words as the head of his cock bumps your spot inside. 

“You make me feel good.”

You were taken by his gasp, how desperate he sounded as he hiked your leg higher, wanting you to spread yourself open for him. His hips don’t give you much choice other than to play along as he moved with an assiduity you had never found with any other man. 

He allowed you to feel every inch of him going in, pulling out and going back in. Teasing himself and you with a slow and measured pace that had you passionately panting underneath him. 

“No one gets it like this.”

Looking at him with heavy-lidded vision, you wove your fingers through his hair and tugged. His face contorted blissfully, breath catching in his throat before it heaved out of his mouth as his chest forced him to exhale. 

You were nodding, agreeing with him. No one had you like this. Him like this. It like this. Sweltering and sticky. 

Teeth gritted, he grunted as he thrusts grew heavier now with more conviction behind their motion. 

“Deeper,” you gasped, “Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

His pelvis was heavy against yours now, making it difficult for you to lift and roll your hips to meet his thrusts. And he knew you loved it like this, he still knew that. 

Legs practically pushed to your chest, held there by your own fruition as they rocked and rubbed up against his fleshy sides cradling him to you, feet bobbing in the air with toes curled.

The sensual roll he was giving you caused the grip of your fingers to go slack against his head. You could feel him smiling against your skin, as your breath hitched in your throat and your hand squeezed at his. 

“Touch my arse,” he moaned, sliding his hand out of yours and breathing in quick succession until your hand met his bum cheek once more. 

This time you didn’t falter, gently tapping and feeling the tension to his thrusts as he clenched. Quick squeeze and nails digging in creating crescent moons against his white bits. “Yeah darlin’, know I like it like tha’.” 

Head turned to the side, you messily brought your mouths together. He chuckled as you broke away, probably from the words he’d just spoken. Laughter dying down into a hum as your feet wrapped around his lower back.

His lips were dry as they met yours, too caught up in how his mouth hung open, to make them wet and inviting, as his need to breathe was evident. 

“No ones like you,” you admitted. “No one comes close.”

He revelled in the whine of your last word, how it had your back arching and allowed him to wind his hand around you to lift your bum slightly to encourage your hips to continue meeting his.

He knew you were tired, the breathy whines that were spoken up towards the ceiling were not lost on him. And he knew he had to keep going, to give it to you how you deserved. To make up for the lost time, to say sorry for ‘being a bit of a dick’. A lot of a dick. 

When you knocked your head back, your eyes were unable to concentrate and he was mesmerised by the visual of complete, unadulterated lust that was present on your features. Hair sticking to your temples from your exertion and face void of any concern. 

“Make me come,” you whispered your plea, feeling him bury his face into your neck and drop himself down flush to you. With one hand woven through the hair on the back of his head, your other stayed at him bum feeling the grind of his groin against yours as he lay on you. 

He was sensual now, if not a little tired himself, as his breathing left his mouth in hot pants against the side of your neck. You could feel yourself beginning to flush from the heaviness of his body as you both rocked from the force of his motions and the fullness of him above you.

With rustling sheets and sounds of grunts, your cooed ‘oh’ left you, as you felt the motion of Harry’s hips pickup pace. Your fingers clawed into his hair, lifting the strands and softly pulling as your body ached in the most delectable way.

Harry groaned around a smile, muffled by your skin as he could feel his stomach start to tighten; his orgasm impending. He tried to hold off as much as he could, eager to watch you come undone first in the best way he could as he was rendered speechless and breathless alongside it.

Instead you were both a mess of tangled limbs, with rocking motions so vigorous that you felt yourself moving up the bed. A symphony of noises - slapping skin, feeble grunts and creaking bed.

Harry wheezed, knowing he sounded pathetic by too caught up to care. Through hooded eyes you caught sight of his mouth falling agape before he ground his teeth together as his thrusts heavily rolled into you, nudging your entire body.

Your mouth fell as his name unashamedly fell from your lips. Demandingly, but in a juxtaposed whisper, you told him to give it to you. 

“I am,” he whispered. “Oh, I am, darling- Mmhm.“

You whimpered, feeling each breath get harder to produce as your abdomen began to tighten and your chest heave. “I’m coming,” you hastily whispered. Voice nothing more than a pant. 

Looking up at Harry, you watched his bottom lip become captive to his teeth, as his nostrils flared while he breathed. His thrusts were at their heaviest now, wetter and sloppier but getting the job done.

“Gonna- oh.”

This was the loudest you’d been in a while. Moans long and dying off into wordless bliss as your muscles tensed and your orgasm rolled through you. Leaving you as nothing more than cloudy thoughts, and a warm, floaty body.

You felt the bounce of his laugh against his skin from his breath, as he continued to move above you and moulded you into nothing but a high-pitched mess as he wouldn’t stop.

Body falling slightly slack, relaxed and pliant to the bed, you felt Harry move his face into your neck and nudge his hips once more. His ruts were less rhythmic, rough grunts and indecipherable slurring only matching his pending euphoria. 

With his final, heavily thrust, his hips slammed to a stop against yours. Your breathing stuttered as you held him to you, hands moving over his shuddering shoulders and ears listening to his muffled groans which vibrated through you.

“Yea’,” he drawled. Low from the back of his throat. “Yes.”

***

Sunday mornings were made to be slow. To bask in the stillness. To hear nothing but the blood that was rushing through your ears.

It was far too bright to be considered early morning. Not with the winter months looming. 

You stretched your limbs, listening for the crack of your back as your hands reached for the t-shirt that was still awkwardly bunched up to your armpits. 

Rolling your body slightly you reached for the hem and pulled it down, letting your head fall to the side to see an empty bed which allowed a sense of regret to creep into your morning thoughts. Blinking slowly, you almost missed the sound of the bedroom door gently bouncing against the wall.

A hushed, “bollocks” spat out for the other side of the wood causing your lips to twitch upwards in a smile. 

A pause came to Harry’s movements as he caught your eye in nothing more than a pair of fresh underwear and mismatched mugs in each hand. 

“Stayed the night,” he hummed, eyes softly shining. A soft smile pulled onto your lips as he left a cup of tea closer to your side of the bed and you watched him start to blow gently at the lip of his own mug. With his mouth about to take a sip, he asked, “Fancy staying another?” 

[jtsfavslut]

Desperado [GD]

Description: Grayson participates in the famous November challenge, but Y/N has made it her mission to make him fail. 

Warnings: Ahh yes...smut, cinge, idk what else 

Word Count: 2.5K+

Touch starved.

The term was an understatement for your current situation. Why? Because your boyfriend decided to participate in the famous no nut fucking November. To say you hated it was another understatement.

You despised how committed he was to it. And to make matters worse, he didn't shave either.

And you being you, you were a whore for Grayson's beard. It was mid-November so it was right where you liked it, a bit past the scruff period.

Every Time you looked at him, your core did nothing but ache. Your legs clenched at the memory of how good he felt between them, his big arms wrapped around them; Holding you close to him as he made you cum for the 4th time that night with just his fingers and mouth.

"Penny for your thoughts?" His voice ranged in your head making you shake your filthy thoughts and memories away.

"Hmm?" you hummed turning to look at him, a smirk on his face disappearing when he licked his lips, coming back short after.

"Whatcha thinking about?"

"Nothing," you shrugged it off, but he knew. Grayson was fluent when it came to your body language, knowing what everything meant, even the slightest movement.

"Nothing? You've been staring at me and cleaning your legs, you're biting your lip and you're flushed. I know that look from a mile away, Angel," he taunted, making you turn your head and look away, scoffing in response.

"It's just hot in here. You have the heat all the way up," you murmured before getting up and walking away. 

"Are you serious?"

"It's just really hot in here that's all" an idea comes to mind and you strip your hoodie.

Grayson raises an eyebrow, already knowing where you're going with this "really"

"Yeah just really hot" you take your shirt off as well, leaving you in a bra and jeans, you were about to take off your pants before he verbally stopped you.

"Angel, don't you dare," his voice was stern and rough, letting you know you were working him up.

"What? I'm not doing anything bad, I'm gonna go swim," you replied before walking away, a smirk on your face, "To each their own Bailey, to each their own,"

"Keep it up, y/l/n," he whispered but you were long gone to even hear it, your feet dipped inside the cool pool water as you looked up at the clear sky.

Your attempt was a slight fail, it was good, just not good enough to crack Grayson.

Grayson Dolan was stubborn. Maybe as stubborn as they came, you blamed that on three things; his cockiness, his ego, and the fact that his top three had an influence on his personality.

But you couldn't give it. You had made it your mission throughout the entire month of November.

It was now the last day of the month, and you needed Grayson to crack. You needed him to crack hours before the month ended. You wanted to be as close as he could, yet as far as he could. Your plan was evil, perhaps it was, but it wasn't fair that you were forced to compete in a ridiculous, immature, high-school like bet.

You were sure this plan was going to work. You felt it in your bones. You were clever enough to use one of Grayson's qualities, and a few of his traits against himself.

If there's anything that Grayson was, other than stubborn, was dominant and jealous. One wrong look from a guy and he was railing you, fucking the pretty out of you, not that it worked since in his eyes, your prettiest state was when you were fucked out. Hair frazzled into all sorts of directions, a few beads of sweat dripping down your hairline onto your forehead, mouth slightly opened as deep, tired breaths fell past your lips, sore shaking legs, chest rising up as your eyes closed. A sight only he got to see, a sight he caused.

Your skimpy blood-red dress clutched onto your body in the most perfect way, a pair of matching heels covered your perfectly pedicured feet, a pair of silver snake earrings held onto your ears, and a simple matching snake necklace adorned your neck. A silver purse completed your outfit as you applied the last bit of gloss and highlighter you needed before slipping out of your vanity, grabbing your phone before leaving your room, walking towards the couch where Grayson laid on, a pair of gray sweats, with air forces, were present on his body.

"I'll be back around 2 am, don't wait up for me," you spoke, your nails suddenly becoming more interesting than a shirtless Grayson, "Peace you," you turned to walk away before his voice suddenly stopped you, a smirk making its way on and off of your face before you turned back around to face him.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked, placing his phone down before sitting up straight, his once hazel eyes scanning your body up and down.

"Out, where else?" you carelessly replied as he chuckled.

"Out where? With who?" he questioned, a dry chuckle falling past your lips as you shook your head, clutching on to your purse.

"The club, with Vinnie, invited me out for some drinks," you replied, only receiving a glare and a scoff.

"Since when do you go clubbing?" he asked and you shrugged.

"Since when do you care?" you scoffed, "Anyways, he's here, I need to go, have fun," and with that, you were gone.

You were out the door, as Grayson's anger increased. Sure, he did trust you. But he also knew about your history with Vincent.

He knew everything, from how you went from best friends to fuck-buddies, to best friends again, so he felt a bit uncomfortable with you going out for drinks with someone you spent countless nights with.

Vinnie however, was aware of everything. He was your last resort. You knew how jealous Grayson got whenever he was around. Of course, he agreed, knowing how sexually active you were. He knew you couldn't last a month. He was in fact surprised you had gotten this far without touching yourself, which he knew because you told, just like you did with everything else.

"Do you think this will work?" He asked, taking a shot of the tequila he had ordered, "Like was he mad?"

"He was furious, you should've seen his face," you replied after swallowing the aged liquid, the slight burn giving you nothing but satisfaction, "He should be checking my location right about now," you giggled when the tiny typing bubble popped up in your texts with Grayson. It had been a few hours since you left, meaning Grayson was probably getting ready to bring you home and punish you for being bad and bratty.

"Hey, if he doesn't give you what you want, just know, I'm always up for you," Vinnie smirked, flashing his hand on your face, rings adore his fingers, as black nail polish perfectly laid on his nails.

"In your dreams Vincent," you playfully smacked his hand, knowing he was only playing around.

"You're right, you know? I liked you more when I had you to myself," he scoffed, shaking his head, taking another shot letting out a groan at the taste.

"Oh please V, I'm sure you have plenty of entertainment around," you rolled your eyes as you stared at his hands.

Oh, how you wished Grayson would accomplish your wishes of painting his nails black, but he claimed it was simply not his style. Of course, you understood, but you still wanted him to do it, it was, after all, something you found incredibly attractive.

"Not really, no one offers what I need, you know? They all like that vanilla shit, with the aftercare and soft shit,"

"But you did that with me?" you asked confused but he just shook his head.

"Because it's you. You gave me what I needed. But anyways, your boy toy is here," he spoke as he noticed Grayson walk in. An angry look on his face as he caught a glimpse of your back and Vinnie’s face.

"Ughh, finally," you scoffed as your core throbbed, your mind suddenly imaging certain scenarios on how Grayson would take you.

"What are you doing here?" You asked as soon as you felt his presence next to you, his cologne slapping you on the face.

"I came to pick you up and take you home," he said, no emotion laced with his voice, you mentally rolled your eyes.

Your hand reached up to Vincent's, intertwining your fingers with his before letting out a whine, "But we just started to have fun,"

"I don't care. We're leaving," he spoke before leaning down close to your ear, "You're gonna get it as soon as we get in the car,"

"Ughh fine. You're so boring. You should take a shot or two sometime," you dramatically sighed before letting go of Vinnie's hands and grabbing your phone and purse, "I'll see you another time V, love you, take care," you said, sending him a smirk in an angle that Grayson couldn't see.

"Love you too, don't do anything I wouldn't do," he waved you off as Grayson carefully dragged you out of the establishment. He had parked his car in an empty and abandoned parking lot, having a plan thought out for when he arrived at where you were at.

He opened the back door of his Tesla, before throwing you inside, making sure you wouldn't get hurt, but wanting the message that he was upset to get across, "You think you're funny? Acting like a whore, wearing a slutty outfit to go out with Vinnie? Teasing me all fucking month long, acting like a fucking bitch," he spoke as his fingers came in contact with your jaw, squeezing it in the most perfect way.

Never in his life did Grayson think he would call a woman a whore. But when you came along, you brought a Pandora's box with you. He wasn't sure degrading a female would get him laid, but you introduced it to him, at first it was weird, but he took a liking to it, only with you.

"I didn't do anything," you pouted against his hand, making his other hand squeeze your hip.

"Did I tell you to speak?"

"You asked," you scoffed, eyes widening as a burning sensation spread over your thigh, followed by a moan.

"Open," he muttered, tightening his grip on your jaw, making you open your mouth before he leaned down, doing something you thought Grayson Dolan would never do, "Swallow," he muttered after spitting in your mouth. You did what he said, no questions asked, and no ounce of hesitation in your body, "good girl," he whispered before moving down to between your legs.

His hands explored your legs before you felt a couple of cold things making you look down to find a couple of rings on his fingers, yet no nail polish.

"You wanna behave like a whore, I'll treat you like one," he smirked at your facial expression, he was loving every single second of what was happening, "Mouth of fingers? Never mind, you don't get to choose, don't you dare make a sound," he muttered before pulling down your underwear.

Your body slightly jumped and the long-awaited feeling of his fingers. You bit your lip, feeling so touched that just the slightest feeling of his two fingers spreading your arousal around, "Look at you, so desperate, and wet. It's pathetic," he chuckled making you shake your head before throwing it back as he slowly slipped a finger in, just one, feeling satisfied as you spread your legs and threw your head back, he added another one, and you felt out a whine, earning a thigh smack from him, "I said no sounds,"

He dipped his head down, just feeling the presence of his mouth near you pussy was enough to make you bite your lip, and hold back a moan as he pressed soft kissed on the inside of your legs, fingers wholly moving in and out of you, until he finally placed a soft kiss on your clit, and started moving his fingers faster.

You quickly moved your hand up to your lips, muffling any sound and moan that slipped out. The feeling of euphoria and ecstasy spread quickly over your body, and a knot started forming on your lower stomach at how good Grayson was eating you out and finger fucking you.

"Gray, Grays please," you started chanting his name, not being able to hold it back any longer, the amount of pressure building up was much more than what you could handle.

"You wanna cum for me Angel, Wanna be a good girl for daddy?" He teasingly asked, his fingers moving at a pace that you thought was impossible.

"Mhm, I do please. I'll be a good girl I promise,"

"Let it go, cum for me," as soon as the words slipped out, there was no holding back, your eyes rolled to the back of your head, as you let a pornographic like moan, squirting all over his face and making a mess in the back seat of his car, your vision had truly gone white, never feeling something as strong before, not that you minded, you loved every single second.

"Oh my God," was the only thing you managed to breathe out, finally opening your eyes after a few seconds, Grayson was above you, his white shirt having some wet patches, showing how good he truly made you feel.

"I don't think you should be saying his name right now," he smirked as you shook your head, "Not after this mess you made in my car, at least,"

"I know a perfect way to make up, but you know, it's still November so," you smirked, looking at your watch, the time being 11:51, he had nine more minutes.

"Really? How so?" He teased, picking you up as he sat down, placing you bare half on his black dress pants.

"To make you feel really fucking good, right here. In this car, and you can do anything you want to me," you smirked, palming him through his pants, his bulge was apparent, but you were running out of time. 11:55

"But it's only valid for today," you added, unblocking his belt before lifting yourself up to pull his pants down, You spit on your hand before moving it, just to make him harder and work him up a bit more.

"But you have to say yes,"

11:59

"Fuck just do it," he groaned before placing his hands on your hips, making sure to align himself before slamming you down on his dick.

12:00

"Look at you, couldn't even wait one more minute," you struggle to say as he bounced you up and down on his dick, loud groaning falling past his lips at how good you felt around him.

"Shut up,"

Please I am so sorry!!! This is so bad and gross, and I got carried away...I also wrote this in like an hour!! But I said I would do it so here we are!! Anyways yeah, if you made it here because you read it I love you!! And big thanks to @blazedgraysons for helping me and motivating me to write it, I love you bitch!!! 

[mcwriting]

The Marriage Project (12)

Hi all!!! This is the long awaited 12th chapter! It took months of rewrites of not only this chapter, but future ones as well to ensure this was written to the best of my ability.

This chapter marks the heaviest moment in this story, so please, please be mindful of the content warnings for this chapter. I marked the section that includes this moment.

I also chose not to add tags so that this is not everyone's first impression of this series!

Masterlist

Word Count: 2700

Warnings: s*xual ass*ult, language, alcohol consumption, blood/injury mention

% end of the first week of November- cont. %

Throughout the game, you and the other homecoming court members (aside from any football players or cheerleaders) had been sitting on the sidelines right in front of the student section, so you were somewhat able to talk to your friends.

The team was playing good in the first half. It was probably Tom’s best game that you’d ever seen. At halftime, they did the “official” crowning of court members and recognized football and cheer seniors.

The seniors were presented first, having their parents with them as they walked across the field. They started with the cheer team so Daisy could change back into her white dress.

Then came the court recognitions, you and Tom stepping onto the field after everyone else as the crowd cheered and clapped.

Tom’s arm linked around yours as he helped you stay steady walking across the grass, since your heels weren't quite meant for the soft ground. Someone handed you a large bundle of roses and you smiled widely.

The bright lights, the cheers, the smile Tom gave you.

It was a moment burned into your memory forever.

Then it was over, and the team went back to their game, winning 42-27, their best win by far all season.

You were saying your final thank you’s to people’s congratulatory comments as you began heading out to the parking lot. Alexis caught up with you amidst the chaos.

“You still on for Tyler’s? I’ll drive,” she offered.

“Yeah. Let’s go home so I can change and then we’ll head out, okay?” you said, finally getting to your car.

She followed you to your house, where you changed into a tight long-sleeved bodysuit, skinny jeans, and some heeled booties. You also packed some other things into a bag to sleep at Alexis’s house later.

You told your parents you were staying the night at her house. They definitely knew better by the way you’d left on your makeup and put on real clothes, but didn’t question you, instead tossing out a “stay safe” and “don’t do anything stupid” as you headed out the door.

Things were pretty much in full swing by the time you and Alexis pulled into the yard outside Tyler’s house and found your friends inside, red solo cups in hand. The speakers were blaring something with a strong beat and most people were dancing.

You had a white claw to loosen up. After having refrained from partying throughout volleyball season, Alexis would be designated driver for the night to let you have your fun. You saw plenty of football players hanging around but didn’t find Tom anywhere.

Weird.

*CW below*

After a little bit, you ran off to use the bathroom just down a hall. You went alone since it would only be a couple minutes, you knew everyone there, and weren’t drunk.

When you stepped back into the hall, you almost ran into a large figure. It was Harrison.

“Oh, hi there, little lady,” he sneered.

“Fuck off, Harrison.” you commanded, brushing past him. He grabbed your wrist and yanked you back.

“I don’t think you want to be saying that to me,” he pinned you against the wall. His breath reeked of alcohol. You looked around, but it was dark and no one was close enough to see your predicament.

“What the hell do you want? I’m just here to have fun.”

“And what do you think I’m doing huh? Don’t think I forgot about that little stunt you pulled going to Johnson. It’s your fault I missed two games.”

“Don’t think so buddy. Maybe if you respected women you wouldn’t have been in trouble in the first place. Now get off me,” you commanded, trying to push forward.

Big mistake.

He drove a knee between your legs and placed a hand over your chest, gripping your breast so tightly it hurt. For the first time, you were actually scared, but still stared directly into his eyes.

“Nah. I just think you’re too much of a pussy to take me. Now you’re gonna stay quiet or something much worse is gonna come to you,” he threatened, then placed his lips on your neck.

You squeezed your eyes shut to focus your thoughts. It was like you were frozen in shock and pain.

His other hand started sliding up the inside of your thigh when you panicked, kneeing him in the groin and shoving him from you before sending a fist into his jaw.

You were thankful he was drunk, as it made him disoriented and off balance.

Harrison reeled back, looking at you in confusion as he bent over, holding his mouth in pain. There was blood around his gums. He looked at you angrily before another voice called out.

“What the hell is going on here? I thought I told you to stay away from her,” Tom seethed. There was a fire in his eyes that you’d never seen before.

“You think I really care what you have to say? I was just trying to teach y/n a little lesson about consequences,” Harrison replied, slurring his words, before spitting blood onto the hardwood floor and pointing a finger right in your face. “You really think a couple hits are going to stop m-”

Tom was about to step forward to do something when rage overtook you and you threw another punch to his nose, causing him to fall backwards unconscious.

Tom looked down in shock at the limp body beneath you, then back up to you. Once your eyes met, his features softened.

“Y/n? Are you okay?” he asked, stepping over Harrison and guiding you away from him. As you finally began processing what had happened, tears slipped down your cheeks.

“I… he- he…” you couldn’t get the words out and your breath quickened.

“Hey, hey. I know. You don’t have to say anything. It wasn't your fault. Can I hug you?”

*end CW*

You sniffled and nodded, not meeting his eyes. He engulfed you in his arms, rubbing your back as you buried your face in his neck. Your chest throbbed from Harrison’s grip and knuckles ached from where they’d met his face twice.

After a few minutes, you straightened up and wiped your face, trying to be tough. Harrison was still out cold on the floor.

“Do you want me to go get your friends?” he asked, to which you nodded. He ran off and only a minute later came Alexis and Caroline.

They fawned over you, making sure you were okay. Tom put a hand on either of your arms and looked you directly in the eyes.

“I’m going to make sure he and his awful friends leave, okay? You haven’t done anything wrong.”

The girls led you back into the bathroom while Tom began dragging Harrison off. They helped you clean the mascara stains on your cheeks and make sure you were okay. After about 10 minutes, you finally felt confident enough to go back out.

When you got back to the main room, word had it that Tom, Jake, Chris, and some of the other guys were making sure Harrison’s crew would leave and not come back.

Knowing that you were safe from him finally, you decided to drink in the hopes of forgetting what happened for a little bit and have some fun. You started off with a shot of strawberry lemonade vodka, which led to shotgunning a beer and tossing back another shot (or two) of bacardi.

Not a half hour later and you were plastered. You went crazy on the dance floor, jumping around like a fool as different people came up to dance with you.

You were barely aware of what you were doing and extremely clumsy. The room was turning as you clambered up onto a table. You were spinning in circles until your shoe’s heel missed the edge and you started to topple over.

You couldn’t even react, but after a second realized you hadn’t hit the ground, and were instead in Tom’s arms.

“Alright I think it’s time for you to take a breather,” he said. It was hard to understand him as his voice sounded distant. He carried you out of the warm room and outside, where the cold air hit you like a truck. He set you down on the edge of Tyler’s porch.

“Y/n are you okay? After everything that happened I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

What he said wasn’t funny, but you found yourself cackling anyways.

“Better than everrr! Did you see my twerking?”

“Yes, yes I did. Are you feeling okay? Your face is super red. You aren’t nauseous?”

You shook your head with a big grin.

“I’m fiiiineee, pretty boy. Just because you’re my husssband doesn’t mean you have to follow me everywhere! I’m alllll gooood.” You slumped onto his shoulder, still giggling.

“Alright, princess. Let’s just chill here for now alright? I’ll text Alexis in a little bit.”

You sat in silence twisting your star ring as you began to cool down and your hearing was returning to normal. Tom was rubbing his thumb over your shoulder and had you drinking your second cup of water, but the effects of the alcohol were still present.

“Tom?” you whispered. He hummed. “You’re a really good husband.”

He chuckled.

“You think so?” he paused. “I think you’re a pretty good wife, too. No matter how much trouble you manage to get us both in.”

After a little longer, you felt yourself getting sleepy as the night took its toll on you. Alexis came outside and rushed over.

“Hey! I was looking everywhere. Sorry I didn’t see your text. Let’s go, y/n. You’ve had a looong night.”

Tom picked you up from the porch and led you to the car, half carrying you. He helped you into the car and buckled you up, then stood leaning in the doorway.

“Thanks for your help, Tom. Glad you were there for us,” Alexis said with a small grin as she buckled in.

“Of course. I’d do anything for her,” he replied, giving you a wink before shutting the door and waving. Alexis had barely pulled out of the driveway when she looked at you.

“Okay spill. What’s been going on with you and Tom?” she asked in a serious tone. She was clearly using the alcohol against you, and even though you were much more aware than before, you still started talking.

“I think I really like him.”

“Like we didn’t all already know that. I meant what have you been hiding from me the past three months? I know there’s more to the story.”

You sighed.

“It started last month, when Tom beat up… you know… the first time. We held hands on his bedroom floor that weekend until his mom accidentally walked in. And then we took those pictures and kept saying all these flirty things. I accidentally caught him naked, don’t ask.”

“Oh I’m definitely asking about that later. But continue.”

“Well then I stayed for dinner that Thursday and Sam caught us in the kitchen goofing around. Oh, and then last weekend we kissed, and-”

“YOU WHAT NOW?” she yelled, causing you to wince at the sound before you started rambling.

“We didn’t really kiss per se… It’s because we were fake dating for that couple. It just kinda happened! And now we’re going to homecoming together but it was supposed to be a secret so… don’t tell anyone before dinner tomorrow. Or tonight I guess since it’s Saturday morning.”

“I knew it. Dammit I knew it! Why didn’t you just tell me!”

“You’d make fun of me! Do you think I want to like him? We’ve been at each other’s throats all this time and now I’m just supposed to forget all that because of a little crush? You don’t get it, Lex. It’s not like he’d ever feel the same way.”

You looked out the car window, trying to settle your breathing after getting worked up. Your head hurt and you were still thirsty. Alexis pulled into her driveway and cut the engine.

“I know I would clown you about it, and I probably still will, but we’re friends for a reason. And you’re joking, right? Everyone knows Tom is head over heels in love with you.”

“What? No way.”

“Yes way! Have you not seen the way he looks at you, and follows you like a puppy dog, and gets so protective over you? I mean come on, y/n. He literally said he’d do anything for you and winked before we left. You must be blind to not see that.”

You sat and tried to think about it for a minute, wondering if she was right about him.

“Let’s go in, y/n. It’s getting cold and you need to sleep it off. You’re not going to have a fun morning, that’s for sure.”

You followed her into the house, trying not to stumble. Your balance definitely wasn’t all there. Her garage door led straight to the kitchen where you chugged a glass of water and took some antacids, grabbing more water to take to her room.

You went into the bathroom to shower off the makeup and sweat and hairspray. When you got out and looked in the mirror, you saw the way your chest was reddened from what Harrison did to you. It took everything to hold back more tears.

%

The moment your eyes opened, everything hurt.

Your head, stomach, feet, chest. Your head was flooded with memories from the previous night. You rolled away from the window to find Alexis sitting on the floor next to a plate and glass of water.

“Well, well, well. Sleeping beauty awakes. I brought you my hangover cure.”

You looked down to see that on the plate sat two advils, an alka seltzer, and some cinnamon pop tarts. It was almost 11 am.

“Thanks, Lex. For everything. You’re the best,” you said, taking a bite off one pastry.

“Don’t be thanking me. Tom’s the real hero. He got a bunch of people together this morning to report Harrison for what he did to you and he’s suspended again, can’t go to the dance. I guess Johnson is gonna deal with it more next week and he might be expelled. Do you have any proof other than Tom?” she said gently.

“Let’s see,” you said, tugging off your shirt, revealing a sports bra. She gasped when she saw the purple bruising around one breast and the hickey marks that had been left on your neck.

“Oh my God, y/n. That’s awful.”

“I know. It didn’t look like this last night. We need to get some pictures.”

After taking some pictures for proof and finishing off your “breakfast,” you and Alexis began preparing yourselves for the dance. You were going to do makeup and hair at her house before going home to change, and then to Tom’s.

If he even still wanted to go with you. You decided to call him while Alexis curled your hair.

“Hey, y/n. Are you okay?” he asked, voice deep and raspy. He must have gone to bed again after organizing the reports against Harrison.

“Yeah, I’m way better. Thanks for everything last night. For saving my ass. I heard what you did this morning, too. You’re the best.”

“It’s the right thing to do, y/n. I’m glad I was there. And you’re sure you’re okay? We can skip the dance tonight if you aren’t up for it. You know my mom would love to have you come hang out any time.”

“Hey, now. I’m not about to leave the dance without a king and queen. I mostly wanted to check if you were still okay with going together after everything.”

“Of course! I want to go with you, y/n. Nothing’s changed that.”

You smiled.

“Okay, well, I’ll pick you up at 5 for dinner. Bye, Tom.”

“See ya, princess.”

You ended the call and sat quietly looking down. You almost forgot Alexis was there until she said,

“So you’re driving him, huh? I alway knew you wore the pants. Now tell me about that whole ‘seeing him naked’ thing...”

%

A/N: so... there's that chapter. I hope you all understand that this moment is not at all meant to romanticize or glorify the terrible experiences so many people endure, but instead highlight one way this issue is dealt with.

I wish you all the best. Please remember that my messages and asks are always open ❤️

Send a message or ask if you’d like to be added to my permanent or series taglists so I can verify you’ve been added!

Story tag list: @jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl, @l0lmk, @primadonnasdream, @bookworm06, @thenoddingbunny-blog, @agentnataliahofferson, @spider-babe, @stxfxniexreads, @justafangirlduh, @supraveng,

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Twitter ー Yuma Mukami [2020 Compilation]

–> This post includes all tweets posted on the official Rejet Twitter account for Yuma Mukami (@DialoverYumaM) in 2020.

Shuu l Reiji l Ayato l Kanato l Laito l Subaru l Ruki l Kou l Azusa l Carla l Shin l Kino

February 14, 2020 (Valentine’s Day)

> I’m helping Azusa make his chocolates, so later ‘kay? (@Kou)

> Making sweets is a lot of work, huh?

> I can’t do much else but mix everything together.

> Oh.

> Jeez, I’m telling you, you put in way too much.

March 14, 2020 (White Day)

> Yo. Are you done watering the field?

> …Ahー That? That’s, well…My way of returning the favor from Valentine’s Day, I guess

> Fuck, I messed up. I guess it was hard to tell if I just left it on the field. I’m not cut out for this kind of stuff.

> I tried to surprise you because I wanted to see your smile, but I should have just told you face-to-face. Either way, I’ll make sure to protect you, so remain by my side

March 27, 2020

> That fuckin’ hurt

> I’m soaked from the rain. This feels disgustin’

> Kinda smells nice in here

April 1, 2020 (April Fools)

> Did ya hear? Mukami Dining. The food’s made with my vegetables, so I can assure the taste. On top of that, Ruki’s our cook. Everyone who sees this message, come drop by, ‘kay? #AprilFools

April 22, 2020

> Haah...This is bad

> Oi. Where do ya think you’re goin’? We’re not done yet. Come here.

> Hah, are ya tryin’ to get away ‘cause it feels too good? But ya can still keep goin’, can’t ya? Just throw out yer reason already and entrust yerself to me as ya become more and more corrupted.

> I’ll give ya my everythin’. So offer yer everythin’ to me as well. Deal?

May 2, 2020

> Oi. I’m goin’ grocery shoppin’. Anythin’ ya need?

> Tell me if ya need more veggies. I’ve got plenty available in my garden. 

> Don’t be so modest. I’m growin’ them for that reason.

July 7, 2020 (Tanabata)

> Once again, my bad. #TanabataWishes

July 23, 2020 (Birthday)

> Thanks for today. I feel like my birthday isn’t that bad, ‘cause you’re willin’ to genuinely celebrate it with me. I don’t get why ya seem to be so happy preparin’ for my birthday, but if the roles were reversed, I might just feel the same. Well then, let’s wrap today up. Lemme have a taste of you, since you’re much sweeter than some cake. No complaints, right?

September 14, 2020

> I ripped my uniform again.

> Guess I’ll have to buy a new one.

October 15, 2020

> It’s gotten chilly.

> It’s almost pumpkin season. Ya better help out too.

> Ya better wear gloves whenever you’re touchin’ the soil. Understood?

October 21, 2020 (DL x Mayla Classic)

> Ah? Whatcha want, Sow?

> Ahー …That thing? The fuck, ya lost it already?

> Hmm? It disappeared before it reached ya?  Lemme tell ya, but I don’t know where it is either.

> Don’t ya think Kou might know somethin’? Actually, he might have taken it to tease you.

> He told me he’d go take a swim in the underground pool. Go ahead. If ya find it, come and show me how ya look wearin’ them.

> Ah, but lend me a hand in the garden first. I won’t let ya get away doin’ nothin’ after ya came all the way here.

October 24, 2020

> Ya better not take them without permission again! (@Ruki)

October 31, 2020 (Halloween)

> Gotcha, Sow! I’ve decided I’m gonna eat ya instead of Sugar-chan today! Now keep still and let me prank ya!

November 15, 2020

> Yeahー I’ll read it when I have time.

November 30, 2020

> Accordin’ to Ruki, today’s ‘sugar day’.

> Guess I’ll stock up on Sugar-chan then.

December 18, 2020

> Whatcha been shiverin’ for this whole time? ...Aah, you’re cold? I’ll put yer hands in my pockets then. Feels kinda nice puttin’ them in there while holdin’ hands, no? Besides, the inside of my pockets is warmer than anyone else’s. So no don’t be modest now.

December 19, 2020

> Oi, let’s order this drink! The one with vegetable juice and sugar-chan inside! This has to be delicious. ...Anyway, this cafe’s quite the hidden gem, huh? I don’t think I would have found it if it wasn’t for ya. Let’s continue to make new discoveries together.

December 24, 2020 (Christmas)

> Merry Christmas. ...I say that, but why do ya get all merry just ‘cause it’s some special day? Any day is special if ya get to spend it with someone dear to ya, right? Don’t ya think so too?

[writing-wrxngs]

Winter Day

(I got the idea for something with wintery vibes very suddenly as I was walking to my math class the other night. It’s only mid November but we got our first little snowstorm cause I live right on Lake Ontario. It was shit to actually walk through bc I was underdressed and not about to take the elevator back up 8 floors and change. Still, I got super excited to see snow! I love winter, or at least the romanticized version of winter. Also this is hella long, enjoy!)

It was the Saturday after a snow day, which meant an extra free weekend for Techno, Wilbur and Tommy. For the older boys, it meant a break from all the work being loaded on their adolescent backs. Tommy was only in his first year of school so he was just excited for a long weekend away from boring teachers.

Phil let the boys sleep in even more than usual. It wasn’t often school closed on a Friday, they deserved a treat. They had spent most of the snow day messing about and had tired themselves out. Instead, he sipped his coffee in the kitchen and waited to see which boy would roll out of bed first. To his surprise, it was Wilbur.

“Mornin’” the boy mumbled, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. He walked over to one of the cabinets and pulled out a bowl. Setting it down on the table, he went to the pantry and grabbed a random box of cereal from the top shelf. The ease with which he was able to do that still surprised Phil. Wilbur was growing like a weed, and even at his age, was taller than his father already.

Phil watched this ritual silently. Tired teenagers were like wild animals, and agitated easily. Of the two older boys, Wilbur was the one with the worse sleeping habits. Neither of them slept well, as was expected of teenage boys, but Wilbur was definitely the stereotypical tired out insomniac. Phil had no clue what kept him up, and let him for the most part, as it seemed like any attempts to help the boy change his sleep schedule failed.

Once he was done making the cereal, Wilbur sat down to eat. He scowled as he took the first bite. He might not have paid attention to what cereal he got, but he still wanted a particular one. Whatever. He had already poured this bowl. It wasn’t bad, either, just not what he had hoped for. The disappointment already wavering, he continued on eating.

It wasn’t long after that Techno came down the stairs. “Wow,” he said as he entered the kitchen. “Wilbur’s awake before me?”

Wilbur looked up from his cereal. “Don’t,” he replied morosely.

Techno couldn’t help but chuckle at the response. “What, didn’t sleep or something?”

Groaning, Wilbur turned to his brother. “I slept. I slept quite well, thank you very much,” he snapped.

“Doesn’t sound like it,” mumbled Techno.

“Like you would know. You somehow act just fine no matter how much sleep you get. I’m just not a morning person.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll back off,” said Techno. He did indeed back off, leaving to find himself some breakfast.

Phil shook his head at the two of them. Not in any disapproving way, more so a playful acknowledgement of their behavior. Their petty little fights were unstoppable, so he let them happen, waiting in case the fight escalated.

Wilbur finished his cereal as Techno sat down to eat his breakfast. After that, he left to go back to his room.

In his room, he flopped haphazardly onto his bed and relaxed. He wasn’t tired or anything, he just wasn’t awake yet. From his bedside table he picked up the book he was reading last night and continued where he left off. From over the top of his book he saw Tommy leave his room and head downstairs. He was finally alone for a while. Tommy would be a while downstairs, occupying Phil, and knowing Techno, he’d stay down there the whole time, talking about something Wilbur couldn’t care less about.

It was whatever. Wilbur was quite adept at slipping out of familial situations. Tommy and Techno seemed to fill his father’s time plenty anyways.

To his surprise, and perhaps even his chagrin, Techno came in earlier than anticipated. “So like, why’d you lie about not sleeping at breakfast?” He asked as he sat down on his own bed. “You know I know when you’re up.”

Wilbur slapped his book closed. “I lied ‘cause it’s nobody’s business.”

“We literally share a room. Your business is my business. It’s my right as the eldest to bother you about it.”

“Don’t you have things to do besides be a dickhead? A recital to practice for? Strategy books to read?” Asked Wilbur.

Shaking his head, Techno said, “I’m not in the mood for that today. Spent all of yesterday doing things like that ‘cause of the storm.”

Wilbur nodded in agreement. “More than I did. When did snow days become boring?”

“Well, Wilbur,” said Techno, “they got boring for you when you started spending all day waiting for a girl who definitely isn’t gonna call you to call you.”

Wilbur shot a glare at Techno. “At least girls have my number.”

Rolling his eyes, Techno shrugged off the comeback. “Seriously though, Wil. You should do something.”

“I was doing something,” said Wilbur, gesturing to his book.

“I mean actually doing something. Get out of bed. I know, come downstairs and we can do a little sparring.”

“If you just wanted some sword practice, you could’ve just asked me,” said Wilbur dryly. In all honesty, it didn’t sound like a bad idea. “Gimme a sec to get dressed and I’ll meet you down there.”

Techno nodded and left Wilbur alone to change out of pajamas and into something more fitting for a fight.

He walked downstairs and into the practice room. Well, half of it was a practice room. It was still technically a playroom, with half of it still having Tommy’s toys strewn about. In the half dedicated to the older boys, part of it had all their musical instruments in a corner, with sheet music and guitar tabs haphazardly splayed about on stands. The part that mattered was the fighting corner. It had practice weapons, and fighting dummies. Phil had this part put in a year ago, at the boys schools suggestion, after Techno’s third suspension for fighting.

“You ready to lose?” Asked Techno, who was waiting for him in the corner.

“Losing won’t sting too badly, there’s no audience,” replied Wilbur. “Can’t bruise my ego if no one sees it.”

“You’re still gonna lose.”

Smirking, Wilbur said, “I know, but what’s a win if there’s no witnesses?”

Techno tossed a practice sword to Wilbur. “You’re really taking all the satisfaction out of this, you know.”

Catching the sword, Wilbur nodded. “I know. It’s called mind games, Technoblade. I thought you’d know all that, with all the war books you read.”

“I think it’s called ‘delaying the inevitable’. Get over here and fight me.”

And that’s exactly what Wilbur did. Techno was correct. Wilbur did lose, but then again, Wilbur always lost. They weren’t kids anymore, and Techno had long stopped giving his little brother pity wins.

Wilbur got himself up, and turned to leave. As he did that, the good mood he had fell. Tommy was standing in the doorway.

He didn’t even say hello. “How come you always lose?” He asked.

“How come you never let people know you’re watching them?” Retorted Wilbur.

“I just got here,” said Tommy. “I’ve been watching cartoons, but they’re over now. Dad said I could play outside if you and Techno watched me.”

Techno, who had been putting away the swords turned to the other two. “And who says we want to watch you?”

The question made Tommy think. “Me,” he said, stretching his arms out to fill the doorway. “I won’t leave until you say you’ll go.”

“Kid, I can literally pick you up with one hand,” said Techno.

“Didn’t he try to bite you last time you did that?” Asked Wilbur.

Yes. Yes he did. Techno grimaced at the memory. “I think we’ve just been cornered by a five year old.”

Wilbur silently agreed. “Fine. We’ll take you.”

“Yes!” Cheered Tommy, who immediately ran out to get dressed.

The two followed behind, knowing he’d take longer than the two of them, seeing as he was younger and getting dressed more than they were. Still, it was decently cold out, so they threw on some heavy jackets and your usual winter accoutrements. After slipping on some boots, the two older boys followed Tommy out.

With intent, Tommy marched out to the back yard, which was piled high with snow from the storm. ���You know, it kinda looks like a fort,” Tommy said, looking at the snowbanks. “Oooo,” he mused. “We could have a snowball fight!”

“We’d pummel you if we did a snowball fight,” said Techno.

“Well, maybe we could do teams?” Tommy suggested.

Wilbur shrugged. “I mean, me and Tommy would be pretty equal to one of you, Techno,” he added.

“Not really but it that’s what you wanna do, go ahead,” Techno said.

“Yes! That’s what I wanna do!” Said Tommy, already dragging Wilbur to one of the snowbanks.

Once there, Wilbur hunkered behind it, not easily hidden the way Tommy was. “Start making snowballs, go!” He whispered, then standing up. He turned to Techno, who was behind his own snowbank. “Now,” he said, putting on an extra dramatic voice for Tommy. “These are the official rules of duelling with snowballs! Number one: you cannot start throwing until the end of the count! Number two! You must announce when you’ve been hit! And number three: first one to hit their opponent ten times is the winner! Understood?” He called out.

“Understood!” Called back Techno.

Melodramatic? Yes. Did it keep most of the other neighborhood children from playing with them? Probably. But was it fun and made Tommy look at Wilbur like he was a god? Absolutely. “Oh-Kay! Three! Two! One! Go!” He shouted, immediately dipping behind the snowbank. A snowball whizzed above his head.

Tommy chucked one, and to everyone’s surprise, landed the first hit of the fight.

“Hit!” Called Techno, who went down to collect more snow.

“Nice one, Tommy!” Said Wilbur, throwing a snowball and missing. As he shook off the loss, was hit square in the chest with a snowball. He made a noise as the impact was made, then called the hit. He left Tommy and moved to another part of the snowbank for a different angle. As he did so, Tommy tried to hit Techno again.

Techno, being Techno, dodged it. He instantly retaliated.

The hit almost knocked Tommy backwards. “Ow!” He cried, before shaking it off. “Hit!” He called out, heading back down and rubbing the shoulder that was hit.

Tommy’s reaction made Techno pause. He wasn’t sure if he actually hurt Tommy or if he was just being a baby. It could be hard to tell. This pause was just long enough for Wilbur to pelt him, hitting him on his cheek.

“Get your head in the game, Techno!” Teased Wilbur.

“It’s not my fault! I was only standing there cause Tommy acted like he got shot!”

“Just call the hit, dude,” Wilbur said.

“Fine,” Techno said, rolling his eyes. “Hit.”

This went on for some time, them calling hits until they were almost tied. Seven to nine, Techno’s favor. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tommy, so he turned went to throw a snowball at him, but Tommy jumped out of the way just in time.

While Tommy distracted Techno, Wilbur ambushed him, and got a hit off, as called by Techno.

And then, Tommy pelted another snowball at Techno.

“What the hell?” He asked, dumbfounded by the ambush. “Hit,” he added realizing he hadn’t called it. Both of his younger brothers were on him, and very close. Closer than he knew they were. He was stuck. They would obviously the final blow as soon as he went to make a snowball. They already had snowballs.

“And you said it wouldn’t be an even matchup,” said Wilbur. He tossed the snowball in his hand once, then whipped it.

It hit Techno right in the face. Frowning, he wiped the snow off of his face and called the hit. “You guys won. I hope you’re proud of yourselves.”

“We are,” said Tommy.

Before Wilbur could get in a snarky comment, the back door opened. It was Phil, who had popped his head out now that he saw his sons were done with their game. “You guys have been out for too long!” He called. “Get inside before one of you gets sick!”

“Fine!” Wilbur called back, already heading to the front door.

Techno and Tommy followed behind, and they took off their winter gear together in the foyer. Both Wilbur and Techno wiped their glasses on their shirts to defog them as they walked into the living room, taking in the heat of the house.

“I was gonna call you boys in earlier, but you were having too much fun,” said Phil from the kitchen. “I figured I’d use that time for something else.”

Tommy was the first to notice, and broke out into a run. “Hot chocolate?!” He asked in surprise.

The older two followed behind, the suspicion correct. Wilbur eagerly grabbed a mug and sat down. “Thanks,” he said, taking a sip. The warmth spread through his chest and into his stomach.

“Did you three have a good time out there?” Asked Phil.

Wilbur nodded.

“Me and Wil beat Techno!” Added Tommy.

“I saw,” said Phil. “You wanna tell me about it?”

Tommy’s eyes lit up. The chocolate already giving him a rush, he began to tell Phil the story of how he and Wilbur conquered their older brother.

Watching this, Wilbur couldn’t help but smile into his mug. Today was a good day. He hated to admit it, but Techno was right. Getting out and actually doing something did make him feel better. Now, even though it was still midday, he felt good. As much as he sometimes felt out of place in his family, he still loved good times like these. Yeah, today was a good day.

[mercuryonparklane]

Since Taylor released “You All Over Me” last night and also posted the “Love Story” remix lyric video that includes a group picture with Emily in it, I am reposting this from my other blog (because at the time I posted it my other blog was too new to show up in the tags). I’m not necessarily saying that YAOM is about Emily...

Anyway, here is a post about “Breathe” and how it is the only Grammy nominated song of Taylor’s that she has performed just once:

Prior to Lover Taylor had 9 Grammy nominated songs (that appeared on her own records): “You Belong With Me”. “White Horse”, “Breathe”, “Mean”, “We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together”, “Begin Again”, “Shake It Off”, “Blank Space”, and “Bad Blood”.

According to Taylor herself, despite multiple requests from fans over the years, she has only sung “Breathe” live one time. She performed it for the first and, so far, only time on August 18, 2018 during her reputation Stadium Tour show in Miami.

I decided to compare this to how many times she has sung her other Grammy nominated songs (I chose not to include anything from Lover or folklore because she obviously hasn’t had the opportunity to perform those songs as she normally would):

(Disclaimer: the data related to the number of times Taylor has played each song comes from setlist.fm, so it may not be 100% accurate, but it is close enough to demonstrate the purpose of this post)

“Breathe”

Date of release (as a single): October 23, 2008

# of times Taylor has performed this song live in total: 1

“White Horse”:

Date of release (as a single): December 9, 2008

# of times Taylor has performed this song live in total: 137

“You Belong With Me”

Date of release (as a single): April 26, 2009

# of times Taylor has performed this song live in total: 381

“Mean”

Date of release (as a single): March 13, 2011

# of times Taylor has performed this song live in total: 196

“We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together”

Date of release (as a single): August 13, 2012

# of times Taylor has performed this song live in total: 272 (that # includes 1 time she performed the song as a mashup with “Bad Blood” and 53 times as a mashup with “This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things”)

“Begin Again”

Date of release (as a single): October 1, 2012

# of times Taylor has performed this song live in total: 75

“Shake It Off”

Date of release (as a single): August 18, 2014

# of times Taylor has performed this song live in total: 189

“Blank Space”

Date of release (as a single): November 10, 2014

# of times Taylor has performed this song live in total: 166

“Bad Blood”

Date of release (as a single): May 17, 2015

# of times Taylor has performed this song live in total: 141 (that # includes the 53 times she performed the song as a mashup with “Should’ve Said No”)

As you can see, there is a pretty glaring disparity between the number of times she performed the other 8 songs live compared to the 1 time she performed “Breathe” live.

The song was released as a promotional single in the lead up to the release of Fearless, but wasn’t really a main single. It never had a music video, which means that it was probably never meant to be pushed for the charts. Although, it did spend one week on the Billboard Hot 100 chart, peaking at #87 on the week ending November 29, 2008, following the release of Fearless.

The song was co-written with Colbie Caillat, who also features on the track. Colbie was fairly popular at the time, in particular her debut single “Bubbly” had been very successful the previous year. So, you might think Taylor’s team/label would have wanted to push this song a bit more, but for some reason they didn’t.

The song seemed to be received well by critics too. There were obviously plenty of people who thought the song was good enough to earn a Grammy nomination. Although, it did end up losing to Colbie’s other, more commercially successful collaboration (“Lucky” with Jason Mraz).

So, it has been established that the song was released as a promotional single, it was nominated for a Grammy, and it was a collaboration with a popular (at the time) artist. These three factors combined might make someone wonder why she didn’t perform this song live until almost 10 years after its release. Just to reiterate, Taylor performed “Begin Again”, the song she performed second least out of this list, 75 times compared to the 1 and only time she performed “Breathe” in 2018.

This brings me back to the point that all of these other songs have a music video and were pushed as singles, whereas “Breathe” was only a promotional single and never had a music video.

Perhaps it would be fairer compare “Breathe” with the other promotional single Taylor released in the lead up to Fearless (I am excluding “Change” because it does have a music video and was used during the 2008 Olympics):

“You’re Not Sorry”

Date of release (as a single): October 28, 2008

# of times Taylor has performed this song live in total: 124

Yes, that’s right. Taylor has performed “You’re Not Sorry”, a song that got about the same amount of promotion as “Breathe”, well over 100 times.

Fearless was Taylor’s sophomore album and it was her first tour as a headliner. She had two albums worth of songs, plus a handful of others, to choose from. “Breathe” did not make the setlist. The only other song from Fearless that was not a part of the main setlist for that tour was “The Best Day”, a song that she performed live 6 times between 2009 and 2018, including twice during the Fearless Tour.

So, “Breathe”, again, was:

co-written by and features an artist who was popular at the time

released as a promotional single

nominated for a Grammy

never performed live before August 18, 2018

Which begs the question, why did she wait so long to perform the song live?

It has pretty much been established that the song is about Taylor’s original fiddle player, Emily. Taylor has never named names on this one, but most Swifties, even non-Gaylors, think the song is about her. Colbie Caillat basically confirmed this longtime fan theory in an April 2020 interview, where she says that Taylor “was writing about something she was going through with a band member at the time, and she was pouring her heart out about it”.

Taylor did say in the “making of” video for “Breathe” that the song is about a friend:

“It was total therapy because I came in and I was like, ‘Look, you know, one of my best friends, you know, I’m gonna have to not see anymore and is not gonna be part of what I do and it’s, like, the hardest thing to go through.’ It’s, like, crazy listening to the song cause you’d think it would be about a relationship, but it’s really about, like, losing a friend and, like, having a fallout and just the loss…”

She also adds:

“It’s never specific as to why. That’s my favorite thing about it. It doesn’t talk about why or whose fault it was cause sometimes the hardest time and way to say goodbye is when it’s nobody’s fault. It just has to stop.”

But, again, I’m pretty sure that Taylor herself has never said that it was about Emily. The official story is that Emily left the band to attend law school, but there is a rumor that she was actually fired. More specifically, the rumor is that she was fired when the true nature of their relationship was discovered.

This is all old news to Gaylors, of course. I said in my first post for this blog that I would not go too far into this theory due to the fact that Emily was 21 when she was hired and Taylor was only 16 at that time. I do think it is possible that Taylor had strong feelings towards Emily and maybe those feelings were unrequited or maybe they were reciprocated. Either way, perhaps someone found out somehow and the fallout was Emily getting fired.

It is also not improbable that Emily decided that she didn’t really like being on the road or the business side of being a professional musician and wanted to pursue a different career. If that was the case, then I do wonder why Taylor felt the need to repeatedly sing “I’m sorry” at the end of “Breathe”.

The only thing that would make sense, other than a potential firing that Taylor somehow felt responsible for, is that they had a fight when Emily broke the news to Taylor that she was going to leave the band. Hence, Taylor feeling the need to apologize so profusely.

Even if that is the case (here is where I project a bit/draw from my own experience), it still seems, to me, like Taylor felt a deep connection to Emily that might have blurred the line between platonic and romantic feelings. Maybe Emily is the first woman that she had those feelings for (ignoring “Angelina” and “Me And Britney” for this point) and so when she left it hit her really hard. Thus, she couldn’t bear to sing about it, even by the time the Fearless Tour started almost a year and half later.

That is all speculation, of course. Still, I can’t help but wonder why she would let almost an entire decade go by before she decided to sing a literal Grammy nominated song on stage for the first time. Especially considering the fact that she has performed all of her other Grammy nominated songs well over 100 times, aside from “Begin Again” (which she has still performed 74 times more than “Breathe”).

[none-but-y0u]

i'm lying (because i love you)

saw this post by @draculcid a few days ago and couldn’t get it out of my mind. then proceeded to write 1k words of a fic but then my motivation to write left because of school and then i suddenly got a burst of inspiration last night and i'm almost probably gonna polish it up for ao3 later but for now, here's a continuation of this beautiful headcanon tw: abuse, bruises, billy went back home to neil's after star court bcuz it works for the purpose of the story. ------------------------------------------------------------------------

So billy drives max over to steve's every few days because steve's place is the unofficial meet up for the party's D&D nights. and max comes in and she's angry and brash and everyone is like ??? and mike yells at lucas to calm his girlfriend down and max yells back that she's not lucas' girlfriend anymore and lucas is like wait whaaaa???

and its one of those nights when steve’s really tired and every loud noise is making him jumpy and anxious and he just can’t deal with them today. So ofc he yells at the boys before turning to max. Goes to yell at her too but she’s hunched over and folded in on herself and this is a different type of angry than usual. It’s laced with fear this time. And she looks up at him when he asks her what’s wrong, but nothing comes out, so el moves to sit next to her. Squeezes her hand before turning to steve with those round eyes of her and says “old billy”

And that news just...hits him for some reason. Settles uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach because it’s been a few months since Starcourt and Billy’s lost all that Californian thrill that he used to parade around town with.

And steve used to see billy often after it first happened because he was max’s designated driver, so his name appeared on the hospital guest sheet almost as often as Max’s, and ten times as more than Neil’s. And it’s not like he and billy really ever spoke. More of a head nod at the beginning and end of each visit while max’s rambles filled the space between them.

But once Billy healed enough to leave, he just went back to Neil’s because apparently the government doesn’t care too much about a traumatized teenager in a small town in the middle of bumfuck indiana leaking military secrets to the press.

And Steve hated the idea of Billy going back to Neil’s because, well, because he had just gotten used to seeing Billy without the bruises, and he realized he kinda liked seeing the blues of billy’s eyes sparkling during his rare moments of happiness. And he definitely wasn’t ready to see the old bruises start to make their appearance again.

And yet. For whatever reason, his worry never seemed to come true. The bruises never returned and everything was normal.

But months passed and steve didn’t have a reason to be around billy anymore which meant he went from “billy hargrove who steve saw almost every day” to “max’s step brother who drives her around” and steve hates to admit it but he misses the old billy. The one who would sometimes stare at steve from his bed when he thought steve wasn't watching. But Steve was always aware of billy. Has been from the moment he first set foot in town.

So when he hears this news, that “old Billy” has returned, he hates it because old billy was angry and scared all the time, and old billy didn’t look at him like he was important. Like he saw something else in him. Like he was worth it.

So steve nods at max. Tells the kids he’ll be back, and musters up what little courage he has left before trudging outside. Thinks about how if Robin were here, she’d tell him to turn around and go back inside. Let Billy be the angsty teen he tries so hard to come across as by himself. But his mind and nerves don’t seem to agree on logic too much these days, so he goes anyways.

And when he finally gets to the camaro, billy straightens up as if he wasn’t just hunched over, head in his hands, and breathing heavily. Looking exactly like his sister, not sister. And billy looks up at steve with a bored expression. Answers really dryly like he’d rather be anywhere than here cuz he’s cool for this.

But steve can see the bruises decorating the side of his face. Can see the unblemished skin on billy’s knuckles, and steve just knows. Old billy.

So steve, shaking and scared himself, finally works up the guts to ask billy to come inside. Says something like the kids just started a new D&D game and it won’t be done for a while, so billy might as well come inside so he doesn't freeze even though billy has always run hot.

And billy stays silent, narrows his eyes at steve, which makes steve’s heart beat in his chest because the knows they’ve moved past that night in november, but this is old billy and old billy is really good with his fists and steve doesn’t want to be on the receiving end of that again.

But eventually, billy agrees. Says something snarky like “i’ve always wanted to see how the other half lives.” Shuts the camaro off and opens the door, hitting steve on the leg because he’s still a boy who doesn’t know how to properly accept love and care with his words.

Inside, the party barely spares them a look, but he knows they’re doing it out of a respect thing because max is still frowning and closed off. And billy sees her, starts off ignoring her as he walks around touching things. But his eyes keep finding her and she keeps shivering because she still has some of that california blood in her. And eventually he walks over. Yells at her for leaving her jacket at home before yelling at steve for having a cold house. And steve says he can put the heat on or get her a blanket, but billy waves him off before shrugging off his prized leather jacket and throwing it at max.

And something warm flutters deep in steve’s stomach as he watches their interaction. Something he hasn’t felt since nancy and it builds and builds inside of him.

And then he sees the bruises on billy’s side. Sees the small splotches of red peeking through billy’s white shirt. Watches billy wince as he continues his exploration of steve’s house.

Eventually, steve tells billy to follow him. Has to say it with faux authority because billy loves to argue. When they finally do get to the bathroom, steve forces billy to sit, so he can clean his wounds because “you’re gonna get blood all over my mom’s new carpet, and she’s gonna kill me” which is a lie ofc because it’s not like she’s ever home, and even when she is, she’s only sober long enough to point out whatever flaw of steve she can pick at.

But they’re focusing on billy tonight, so steve brushes off the slight overshare, and billy seems to understand because he lets steve clean him up. Lets him run a warm rag over billy’s abs. Even let’s steve wash his hair (which is a whole other argument). And after, steve gives billy some of his clothes. They have different body sizes so the only thing that fits are a pair of sweats and one of steve’s old sweaters. But watching billy come out from the bathroom wearing his clothes sparks something in him, and he thinks that old sweater might just be his new favorite now.

After, billy starts looking around steve’s room. Says something like “so this where the magic happens” as he waggles his eyebrows. And steve goes to roll his eyes but there’s something about billy looking soft and cozy as he sinks into the cushion of steve’s bed. And that warm feeling is back, and it’s spreading this time. And he has to look away because he’s starting to think of scenarios of billy sleeping in his bed not just for one night but for forever, and...yeah he can’t think of that right now.

So he uses this moment of billy being slightly distracted to go to the kitchen. Makes up another lie about billy having to stay in his room for whatever reason and billy agrees because “your bed feels so good, harrington.” and steve can’t take it anymore and he runs out blushing.

He comes back a half hour later with slices of pizza but billy protests because he’s on a strict diet of not eating whatever the fuck they put in Sal’s pizza. But steve is prepared this time, so he counters saying they had extra and they have to eat it all or else the racoons will get it and everyone is full, so billy has to eat the rest of it.

And steve has already been really weird tonight. Doesn’t want to make it weirder by watching billy eat. So he grabs the closest thing to him which happens to be some romance book from the 1800s that he took out for a school assignment and never returned.

But he’s made his grave already, so he starts reading it. Or at least tries to, but soon the words start blurring together because he keeps getting distracted, and he resorts back to an old trick of reading everything out loud to help him stay on track. And then he remembers billy’s still in the room, and he’s looking at him with this curious look. And steve feels like he’s in grade school again, about to get scolded for being disruptive, so he stutters out an apology, but billy cuts him off, saying he can’t hear the book when steve’s sitting so far away.

and there’s plenty of room on the bed.

So somehow, steve finds himself, sitting on his bed, one side of his body pressed to billy’s, reading an 18th century romance book. and there’s heat being passed between them, but there’s heat filling inside steve too.

Time passes and they get lost in the story, but then suddenly, there’s a loud bang followed by screaming coming from the living room, and steve immediately jumps up, reaching for his bat, but then he hears dustin yell out a “sorry steve” followed by a chorus of “sorry, steve.”

And it takes a second, but his heart rate is slowing back down, but then he looks over at billy, and his eyes are wide and his fingers are digging into his side and he’s breathing really heavily like he’s on the verge of crying or something and steve gets it...old billy.

So steve waits with billy. Helps him calm down by pressing billy’s hand to his chest, to help ground him. Once he’s a little better, steve says he better tell them to quiet down, and billy protests saying “don’t be such a mom, harrington” but the jumpiness is still slightly there in his eyes so steve shrugs him off saying “they’ve already had the cops called on them once because the kids were being obnoxiously loud” and he doesn’t need it to happen again. He doesn’t tell billy the incident was an argument over a video game or that the cop was hopper who didn’t even drive over because it wasn’t serious and it didn’t involve el.

Later, when it’s getting late, nancy and jonathan show up to take the kids home. As Steve talks to them, he notices max and billy arguing in the corner of the room. Eventually he works it out. Billy can’t go home tonight, but max doesn’t want him sleeping in his car because who knows what’s out there.

So steve offers, well more like agrees, to max’s question of letting billy spend the night. Billy protests and steve shrugs it off, saying he has multiple rooms in his house and he can sleep in any of those.

After everyone leaves, steve goes to set billy up in a guest room, but he notices him being hesitant about sleeping alone. And steve’s been lying all day, so he figures that one more can’t hurt so he says that billy’s gonna have to sleep in his bed tonight because the other rooms are filled with his parent’s souvenirs from their many adventures. And it’s so obviously a lie because they were just in a perfectly clean room, but billy smirks anyways and says something like “if you wanted me in your bed, just say that.”

They get back to steve’s room and curl up under the covers. And it’s so cold in steve’s house, so obviously they have to conserve heat by practically spooning each other. And it’s steve’s bed and he’s the one that’s cold, so he gets to be the big spoon this time. Which grants him a “you planning on there being a next time, harrington?” steve hopes billy can’t feel his heart fluttering.

A few minutes later, they’re laying there, both still awake. Because the worst part about living in the middle of nowhere is the constant sounds of nature. Steve’s used to it for the most part, but billy keeps tensing in his arms. So steve lies one last time and says something like “i hate the sounds of outside so i have to sing myself to sleep. Do you mind?” and billy shrugs, saying no. and steve starts singing something that’s not a bedtime song and his voice is bad, but it makes billy laugh which makes steve’s chest flutter and that warm feeling is back with a vengeance. But this time steve welcomes it.

As the song ends, billy’s breath starts getting slower and quieter, and steve thinks he’s asleep so he whispers a “goodnight hargrove” into billy’s hair.

But his calculations are off, and billy stirs in his arms, and steve freezes, nose still touching billy’s curls. And then billy turns around, still wrapped in his arms and whispers a “thank you, pretty boy” into his chest before snuggling deeper into steve’s arms.

[thadelightfulone]

All I Want... 25 Days of Christmas Challenge, Day 6

November 21st - Part 3

DeeDee heard both her phone and computer go off at the same time. She sighed, turned away from the computer and picked up the phone. She decided to see what the girls had to say first. 

Phyll: DeeDee. We can just hit the hookah spot tonight. No club.

Bev: Yeah, and you know you love the wings from Hakeem’s place. It’s a win-win for all of us.

“Ooooh, Hakeem’s wings.” Her stomach gurgled at the thought. “Ok, maybe not.”

DeeDee: Sorry ladies. I have a bottle of wine and a very interesting book calling my name. But you two have fun. 

Bev: Fine. Next week, then?

DeeDee: Yes, Bev. Definitely next week, I have no class or work. 

Bev: Great.  

Phyll: Punk. 

DeeDee: Love you both. Night. 

Bev: Night.

Phyll: Yeah.

DeeDee slid the phone on the coffee table and picked up the computer. Now, back to her book. She clicked on Erik’s email and started to read. 

SUBJECT: RE: ‘MgYHeArTaNdSOULa’

Ms. DeeDee, 

There is no need to pout. I promise you that. 

So, you want a career in teaching. You love to see it. I think that is amazing. 

It reminds me of the work I started when I first came to the Center. I used to run an afterschool science program for the local kids. With the same goal as you, I wanted more of us in STEM careers, looking out for us. 

Reading. I wish I had more time to do it. A good book is always a great escape. 

Speaking of which, what are you getting into tonight? 

Mister Erik

“My night? Oh, just in front of my computer. Talking to a man, I didn’t even know existed until a week ago. Just spilling my guts.”

DeeDee never told anyone that her parents met at Southern, but something about Erik made her want to share that with him. Then realization dawned on her. It was another perfect set up for him to talk about his love life and he smoothly dodged it again.

“This damn man.” She rolled her eyes and got up to put the rest of the pizza away. 

“And of course, he used to work with kids.” Like he couldn’t be anymore interesting. DeeDee sighed as her smile returned. She grabbed another bottle from the fridge. It was definitely about to be that kind of night. 

DeeDee came back to the couch and picked up the notebook. She pulled out the neatly folded note, spread it flat and read it for the umpteenth time. 

On paper, he seemed like a dream. Talking to him, even better. There is no way that he was not happily taken by some extremely lucky woman.

DeeDee wondered what it would have been like if she had met him while he was still at Southern. She was on campus back then. A shy and soft-spoken junior who lived in the chemistry labs on campus. And Erik obviously would have been in and out of those same labs, too. 

It’s funny that they never did meet. “I would have remembered crossing paths with him.”

But then again, she didn’t meet Dr. O until he was a Grad Assistant for one of her organic chemistry classes. And she never thought, he would be her mentor when she joined the Ph.D program.  

And then there’s that part. One degree of separation and it just has to be that he is friends with Dr. O. Erik is obviously entertaining her for professional reasons, and not because he could be interested in her romantically.

“Get it together Dee. He is taken.” And yet, somewhere deep inside she kind of hoped that he wasn’t. That maybe he could see her for more than just his friend’s student. 

DeeDee looked back at Erik’s email, quickly wrote her reply and closed the laptop. She popped the cork on the new bottle and started drinking directly from it. With wine in hand, she got up and started swaying to the soothing sounds of Alex Isley and Masego’s ‘Good and Plenty.’ 

--- 

It had only been 15 minutes, but to Erik it felt like forever and he worried that maybe she did have other plans. He ran upstairs to change into some work out clothes and came down when his email chimed. He ran over to read it immediately. 

SUBJECT: RE: ‘MgYHeArTaNdSOULa’

Mister Erik, 

I am sitting on my couch, enjoying pizza and wine. Although, my bottle is gone. 

Other than that, I have no plans for the night. 

I let my best friends drag me out last night, so indoors it is for me. 

What about you? Any plans for the evening, like with someone special? 

It’s pretty early over there; like 7 in Cali, right? 

Anyways, I should probably let you enjoy the evening. Don’t be a stranger.

Miss DeeDee

“Wait! What?” Erik rapidly typed his response and sent it to her. He dropped down onto his couch. “I really lost my touch and can’t even talk to a woman anymore.”

He only asked because he didn’t want to assume she was gonna be available to chat via email all night. Erik knew he would do it, too. He was fascinated with her. He wanted to hear whatever she was willing to share with him. And yes, that meant even if he eventually had to answer the question. 

Erik went to the kitchen and got two bottles of water. From the living room, grabbed the tablet and headed to his downstairs gym. If DeeDee stopped responding at least he could work off whatever feelings arose. He set everything down besides the punching bag.

---

DeeDee had danced and drank all around her living room. But once she started to spin, the dance party came to an abrupt halt. The wine finally caught up with her and she plopped down on the couch. She slowly leaned over to set the quarter full bottle down on the table and opened the laptop. 

She had a new email. She squinted at the screen. From Erik. 

Her chest started pounding, so she took a few deep breaths and opened it. 

SUBJECT: RE: ‘MgYHeArTaNdSOULa’

Miss DeeDee,

It is a rare night in for me. I usually work on Saturdays, but I have had the whole day to myself. 

I played ball with some kids from the neighborhood this morning. And I cooked earlier this afternoon and was planning to watch a movie before turning in. 

However, I have been having a wonderful conversation and don’t really want it to end. 

Would you care to join me on a video call?

Erik

“WHAT?” DeeDee threw her laptop down on the couch. She stood up and paced the floor, slowly. “He’s gotta be kidding. Right?” She looked at the message on the screen again. 

She sat back down and sent the first thing that came to mind. Was this actually happening? What is going on? Her thoughts were circling around in her head and all through a wine-induced fog. Just her luck. 

“He --” DeeDee giggled, “Oh my god.” She dropped her face into her hands. 

---

Cool, calm and collected, he was not. Erik’s stomach was in knots while he waited for DeeDee’s response, if any. He hit the punching bag a few times in jest before the nervous energy kept him going. He stayed there for 15 minutes before moving to the free weights in the corner. 

As Erik laid back on the bench to start lifting the barbell, he heard the email alert. He slowly sat up. His heart couldn’t race any faster since he had been working out anyway. But it felt like it was gonna just fly out of his chest. He wrung his hands while he sat on the bench. 

He stood up and made his way over to the punching bag where everything was. Erik grabbed a nearby towel and wiped himself off before he picked up the tablet. 

“Now or never.” He unlocked it and opened DeeDee’s email. 

SUBJECT: RE: ‘MgYHeArTaNdSOULa’

Uh Mister Erik, 

I am enjoying our conversation as well. But I am not camera ready. And I am definitely not changing to get ready either. 

Let’s do it some other time. 

DeeDee

Erik released the biggest breath. He didn’t realize that he was holding it as he read her answer. Then he started to chuckle. And that small chuckle grew into a big full body laugh. It even echoed off the walls, but he could not help it. He was relieved by what he read, and knew exactly how to respond to it. 

He grabbed all his stuff and left the gym. He went upstairs to his bedroom. Erik sent the email and dropped his tablet on the bed. 

SUBJECT: RE: ‘MgYHeArTaNdSOULa’

Now DeeDee, 

Did I say anything about being all dressed up for this call? Doesn’t matter if you are in a hoodie and some sweats. 

I just wanted to have the face-to-face interactions while we chat because I can imagine you pouting about a silly question. And I am sure you want to see my reactions to you calling me Mister after I told you not to. 

No pressure, though. You have my email, so use it to connect to me if you want. I’ll be around, you know, since it’s early over here. 

Erik

Taglist: @teakturn​ @ghostfacekill-monger​ @shaekingshitup​ @nahimjustfeelingit-writes​ @woahitslucyylu​ @ladymac82​ @bugngiz​ @eyeknowmywrites​ @ajspencer1892​ @arafatih​ @issimplyaamazinggg​ @tchallasbabymama​

[alleiradayne]

Hey, I just read your comment about witch hazel and how you had a c-section. You announced that you were pregnant a little while ago (congratulations again btw) but I'm curious if you plan on another c-section or are going to try VBAC? I ask because my first was a c-setion (bugger was upside down and refused to turn so it was planned) and I VBAC-ed with my second. So I'm curious how other people might make the decision or if it's even available. If this is too personal feel free to ignore!

HI. YES. LET'S TALK ABOUT THIS. I HAVE NO SHAME OR PERSONAL BOUNDARIES WHEN IT COMES TO TALKING ABOUT CHILDBIRTH. :)

Preface: Childbirth used to terrify me. Now on the other side of it, it's absolutely fascinating so I'm going in with eyes wide open on Round 2 and stoked for it.

So first, you need to know the reason I had a c-section to begin with. And honestly, I feel like if I had had a dula and a midwife with me I might not have ended up having one. Maybe.

My water broke at 4:30 AM without any contractions on Thursday, November 15th (2018). I... I am not smart. Nobody, not a single person in any of the classes I had been to had ever said, "Go straight to the fucking hospital if your water breaks, even if you're not in labor." In fact, since then, I have had plenty of people be like, "if you weren't in labor there was no reason to go to the hospital". But that's a different issue altogether. I digress.

I did not go to the hospital immediately because I wasn't in labor. But I called the doctor's office later that morning and they were like, "Wtf is wrong with you go to the fucking hospital" (exaggerated, obv). So I went to the hospital only to find out what I already knew: I was not in labor, not dilated, but water broken.

This is the part where I wish I'd had a dula and a midwife. Within an hour of getting admitted the nurses were like, welp, you're not going into labor on your own, you're not dilating at all, so it's time to induce you. Gotta get the baby out, broken water increases risk for infection.

I kinda wish I'd had someone to push back. I knew nothing about pitocin, had no clue what was about to happen (I mean, I understood it induces labor/dilation/contractions, but that's it). UNFORTUNATELY FOR ME, I ended up with UNCONTROLLABLE ROLLING contractions with no reprieve in between. Normal contractions are about five minutes apart. That's about as close as they ever get naturally. They last about a minute, then you get a breather in between. And usually, pitocin can mimic this, but for some people (e.g. me) no dose will get it right.

If the nurses reduced the pitocin drip, my rate of dilation slowed down drastically. If they turned it back up, I got uncontrollable rolling contractions, but I kept dilating at a rate they approved of. So they opted for uncontrollable rolling contractions versus the former, slower dilation.

Since you had a VBAC, Nonny, you know what contractions feel like. There is no pain on earth I have ever felt that comes remotely close. They're kinda like a really awful IBS bowel movement. But multiply that by like a boogagillion. Now imagine them just one after the other. No time in between. No chance to catch my breath. The pain went up, peaked, came back down, then started right the fuck back up the mountain.

I demanded an epidural after an afternoon of that shit.

Which is fucking stupid because epidurals ALSO slow down labor! They slow down dilation so like, why couldn't they have just left the fucking pitocin a little lower so I could have avoided the epidural and having to push on my fucking back (I wanted to push in a squatting position so I wasn't working against gravity). I didn't end up getting to 10 cm until THE NEXT DAY...

Anyway, I digress again.

The end of the story is that I couldn't push my child out because, as I have known for a very long time, I suck at being a cis woman. If you can't tell, I am still WILDLY pissed about this. My OBGYN tries to tell me that the shape of my daughter's head and the shape of my pelvis were not a match but I was never diagnosed with CPD (small or narrow pelvis).

FAST FORWARD TO TODAY

I met with the same OBGYN a couple weeks ago and she was like we should talk about delivery, what are you thinking considering what happened the first time? And I'm glad she asked that. So that gave me some hope that she'd like, listen to me. And I told her I want to try a VBAC under specific circumstances. Those circumstances are:

1. I go into labor before my water breaks, or, if my water does break before going into labor, we can kickstart labor naturally, no pitocin.

2. No emergencies occur that would actually require a c-section (breach/head up/distress/lack of fluid/etc).

If an emergency does occur or we can't get labor to start properly again, then yeah, it'll be a c-section. I won't deal with the pitocin or the rolling contractions or an epidural that'll just need to be redone with a full spinal block for the c-section. So much shit went so wrong last time (and yeah I use the word "wrong" because I really do feel like none of this shit had to happen this way) and I don't want it to happen again but I don't think just scheduling a c-section is necessary.

I have a lot of trauma/emotion/frustration tied to my first childbirth because I like failed to do the one god damn thing my body was ACTUALLY like built for? I'm not saying my entire existence/purpose is to push a baby out of my vagina, but my cis female body is technically designed for it, and yet, I couldn't fucking do it for like no reason. Not because of any emergency or situation that required it. Just because I couldn't push. My body, a thing I once trusted and believed in and thought was so damn strong, failed me. And I'm still dealing with that.

Hoping for a VBAC is like... I'm worried I'm just setting myself up for disappointment. Even though I know this is what I want to do, I'm struggling to stay positive. I feel like I'm convincing myself of something that's just not gonna happen or was never possible in the first place. March is so far away, ugh.

So that was a lot to say, yeah I wanna do a VBAC and I had the option and spoke with my OBGYN about it. Thank you for asking!

[fumiko-matsubara]

November 2014 ー 07:34

Ryuunosuke woke up with a grunt when he felt something, or rather someone, shaking him fairly strongly for the past few seconds.

He then shielded his eyes with his right arm when lights suddenly flashed before him. Whoever woke him up probably opened the curtain too. Ugh.

"Nii-chan, everyone already had breakfast," he barely heard one of his sisters telling him. Based on how he was addressed, it was likely Kohaku. "And you woke up very late."

"!"

With that last remark, Ryuunosuke quickly sat up and bent down, rubbing his eyes with both of his hands in an attempt to wake himself up even more. He brushed his hair away from his face and then looked ahead, only to meet Kohaku's brown eyes staring down at him, clearly waiting for him.

After some blinking and a final squint, Ryuunosuke soon noticed his younger sister's hair being loose, very unlike how she usually wears it. "You want me to do your hair?" He gently asked.

Kohaku raised an eyebrow at him, clearly not expecting that to be the first thing he would say. "Get dressed up first, nii-chan. You're gonna be late," she sighed before walking towards his door.

It was after Kohaku closed the door shut that Ryuunosuke belatedly realized that it was a school day today. So he went to reach out for his phone that was on the shelf above his bed, which had been awfully silent throughout his whole slumber.

And felt like slapping himself when he found out it was because he forgot to unmute his phone last night, again.

At this point, he really should just stop muting his phone altogether.

Ryuunosuke's eyes widened when he finally looked at the time. He quickly went towards his desk, plugged the charger in his phone, and then hurried towards the bathroom to get ready.

Less than 30 minutes later when Ryuunosuke arrived at the kitchen, only Kohaku was present at the dining table. He heard the running water after, assuming that it was their mom washing the dishes.

"Papa had to leave early for work and nee-chan and Yuko-chan already left for school. Mama only has to work this afternoon and our class' first period is cancelled today," Kohaku briefly explained to him when he sat down in front of her. She was half-way done with her meal and considering it had been over 30 minutes since she went down the stairs, Ryuunosuke assumed that she slowed down her eating to wait for him.

The thought made him a little happy if he had to be honest.

"That's good to hear," he replied softly, taking in the meal before him. Their mom knew him too well that she had just prepared him a light breakfast today as he had barely have enough time to eat. When he picked up the chopsticks, Ryuunosuke glanced at his sister once more with a small smirk. "You seemed to be waiting for me huh, Kohaku?"

Kohaku shrugged in response, matching his grin almost uncannily. "You know the drill, nii-chan."

"Of course, of course," and with that, they both proceeded to eat their breakfast or in Kohaku's case, finish hers.

After a few minutes of silence between them as they ate, Kohaku decided to speak up again.

"Kinda weird seeing you in your uniform with your hair like that, nii-chan," she casually pointed out. "Are you planning to fix it later or..?"

Ryuunosuke chewed his food in silence, contemplating her question. His hair was still lightly damped from the quick shower he had earlier, but unlike the usual fashion where he flattens down his fringes over his eyes, today he was currently wearing it loose and even had it slightly parted in the middle.

"Takes too much time," he firstly answered after a swallow then quickly drank from his glass of water. "I think I'm just gonna keep it like this."

Kohaku's eyes widened in surprise, clearly wasn't expecting his answer. "That's... new," she commented.

Ryuunosuke shrugged in response, picking up a slice of scrambled egg. "I just thought that I should start... getting used to wearing it like this," he paused midway from eating just to add that. "Well, outside..."

Kohaku hummed at his words, her eyes not leaving him since his first answer. There was only one bite left in her meal anyways, so she can waste some few minutes. "I think that's a great idea, nii-chan," she suddenly grinned cheekily. "I can finally brag to my friends that I have a handsome brother with proof~"

Ryuunosuke nearly choked in laughter at the remark, hurriedly saving himself by drinking water. "Hey now..."

Kohaku's grin widened even more.

Ryuunosuke was occupied with tightly braiding Kohaku's hair into twin dutch braids when his mom approached them, seemingly done with washing the dishes.

"Ohh that looks very clean," he heard her praise which brought a small smile to his face. Although his eyes are fixated towards his work before him, Ryuunosuke felt their mom sitting on the couch next to him.

Feeling that their mom will just quietly watch until he's done, Ryuunosuke proceeded to diligently work on the second, lightly combing out the knotted strands with his fingers and carefully making the twists. Braiding Kohaku's hair into tight dutch braids had always been a daily routine for Ryuunosuke, as his sister usually requests for them, that doing so became such a light work that it only took him around two minutes to finish a neat dutch braid.

Another two minutes it is then.

Ryuunosuke was already half way through the braid when he felt his mom shift in her seat. If she was trying to find the moment to talk to him, he felt that he knew what it was about.

"You woke up late today," she started, more of a statement rather than a question. "That's rare."

Ryuunosuke bit down the urge to nervously laugh in response and just hummed lowly. "I forgot to unmute my phone."

As his eyes were still on the braid he's working on, Ryuunosuke couldn't see his mother's expression but since she hasn't given any signs of response yet, he suddenly felt the pressure to explain himself further. "Our class' group chat was really active last night and I couldn't focus on doing my homework... so I muted my phone."

"I think you should stop doing that," Ryuunosuke bit down another nervous laugh when his mom told him that so straightforwardly. "I mean, it's good that you wanted to focus on your studies and such. But it's concerning to have Miki-chan dial our house number plenty of times only because she couldn't reach your phone," she added, followed by a mildly tired sigh. "And every call makes me nervous because I thought it would be from your or your sisters' schools."

"Ahh I'm sorry about that..."

"Don't be," his mom reassured softly, watching him finish braiding the rest of Kohaku's hair with ease. "I'm driving Kohaku to her school, by the way. So you don't have to walk with her."

Ryuunosuke nodded in response, proceeding to carefully tie the remaining braid. "Your classes start at 10 today, Kohaku?"

"More like 10:30," his sister replied, standing when he finally gave the signal that he was done. Kohaku then ran her palms on her head to feel the tight braid and smiled in satisfaction, already happy with the result despite not actually seeing it yet. "Feels nice."

"Really?" Ryuunosuke stood up from the couch, lightly patting away the slight wrinkles on his blazer. "Not too tight?"

Kohaku carefully pressed some of her fingers onto her hairline to check, then shook her head. "Nope, not at all. Doesn't even hurt a bit, thanks nii-chan."

"Good," Ryuunosuke softly returned the smile before walking towards the end of the couch to fetch his school bag. He then went to the kitchen to fetch his lunch, which was already nicely packed by his mom. 

After carefully stashing it inside his bag, Ryuunosuke then proceeded towards the shoe rack near the doorway, where his school loafers are. He barely had less than an hour left, so he better start hurrying up if he doesn't want to be late. Especially since his house is fairly a distance away from school.

"You're going to school with your hair like that, Ryuunosuke?"

He turned back to the living room to see his mother curiously looking at him with her fairly sharp russet eyes wide in surprise.

"My hair..?" Ryuunosuke quirked an eyebrow before turning to the framed picture by the wall next to him, trying to get a proper view of his own reflection through the glass. "Oh." He saw how the slight parting was a little messy and so combed his fingers through his hair in an attempt to fix it.

Satisfied, he then went to pick up his loafers from the show rack and quickly wore them. He then saw his mom slowly walking towards him. "So you're really going to wear it like that today?"

Ryuunosuke nodded in response, giving her a soft and reassuring smile. "I can comfortably run to the station like this then, especially since most of my schoolmates should be in school by now, so I wouldn't be seen anyways."

"But what about your classmates?"

Ryuunosuke then shifted his weight onto his other leg, scratching the back of his head rather awkwardly as sharp maroon eyes darted away from the ones before him. "They know, actually..." He confessed.

Fairly sharp russet eyes widened in surprise once more at the revelation. "Since when?"

"Since summer, at the same time they also found out about the band," He truthfully answered, although he still couldn't bring himself to make eye contact with his mother. "And I forgot to tell you about it... I'm sorry."

His mother just let out a mildly tired sigh in response. "I shouldn't be surprised considering you once randomly told me one day that you actually had a girlfriend..."

Ryuunosuke let out a sheepish laugh at that, feeling his cheek heat up in embarrassment at the blatant call out.

"Speaking of, tell her I said hi when you see her at school, okay?" Ryuunosuke then felt the sudden urge to roll his eyes at the cheeky smile that was gracing his mother's face as she said that. "Well, I can't keep you here for too long. Just take care."

Ryuunosuke gave her a final nod before walking outside through the entrance door.

"I'm off."

It was difficult.

In the end, Ryuunosuke wasn't able to bring himself to tell his mother what he opened up to Kohaku.

Which really left him on a more bitter note as this was something that his mother was affected by the most after himself. 

Ryuunosuke sighed once again as he walked away from the station. It's not like his mother would be mad or anything if he had told her the truth. In fact, it would actually be the opposite. She would actually be delighted and relieved at knowing about the mild changes Ryuunosuke had slowly but surely been making over the months. 

But there was an improvement, right? He did manage to finally tell her that he had shown his face to his classmates... even if it did take him nearly 4 months to do so.

All he really needed to do was to tell her that he wanted to do this, that it was purely his own choice. Even if he still had yet to get used to it. He just had to stop beating around the bush and only telling half-truths whenever he tried to be honest with her.

Because the last thing he'd want to happen was to take him until he's in high school before he could finally spill.

Ryuunosuke slowed down his steps when he was nearing the waiting bus across the street.

Well, that's just one problem he had yet to overcome. Another one was something he still had yet to find a way out of, as irritating as that actually sounded to him.

He took a peek inside the vehicle and sighed in relief when he didn't see a single Kunugigaoka student present.

It's either during the school festival or after their final exams that he could make his decision for that other problem he's having.

He entered the nearly deserted bus and took a seat at the very back by one of the windows. He then took his earbuds out from his pocket, thinking that it would take a bit before the bus started moving so he might as well listen to some music as he waited. Feeling a little less exposed now with just the very few people inside the vehicle, Ryuunosuke felt comfortable enough to completely brush his hair away from his face.

He had to be honest, with the way he had been wearing his hair up more often these days than he used to, his bangs are starting to annoy him at this point.

Shouldn't it be a good thing then? Well, partially it is very much a good thing. A great thing even, actually. Ryuunosuke himself is happy at the fact that he was hardly scared to show himself anymore after being countlessly reassured that there wouldn't be a repeat of what happened to him when he was seven.

He was actually happy at the fact that he can finally ditch this hairstyle whenever he's ready... especially since one of his classmates gave him such a mortifying codename from it.

Oh god he fucking hated that codename.

Whoever wrote that chosen suggestion better brace themselves the moment he finds out who they are.

Anyways, as much as Ryuunosuke could have wanted to permanently change his hairstyle much earlier... he couldn't really.

Especially since he does use his bangs as a makeshift crosshair when aiming to shoot accurately when not using a scope. And with the little time they have left before March, he couldn't just get rid of his bangs anytime soon and waste time relearning to aim and match his admittedly current high level of skill.

So he just had to suck it up until the next 4 months.

Feeling a glare breaking out, which he rather not show because he doesn't want to accidentally scare anyone first thing in the morning, Ryuunosuke closed his eyes and sighed deeply. 

High school debut it is then, huh.

All of a sudden, Ryuunosuke felt someone taking the seat next to him and tensed. Last time he had his eyes opened, which was just a few seconds ago, there were hardly any people inside the bus.

So who in the world would willingly sit next to him-?

Ryuunosuke cracked an eye open to peek at the person next to him and found himself about to smile at the sight of familiar voluminous black hair.

His smile widened even more when he noticed a familiar dainty hand slowly hovering over his opened palm placed on his lap.

Letting out a chuckle, Ryuunosuke decided to reach the hovered hand and locked fingers with them. He then leaned his head onto their shoulders and mildly nuzzled into them. "Good morning~" He greeted softly.

"Good morning Ryuu," Kaho greeted back as she tried to relax at his touch. 

Ryuunosuke then pulled away, not wanting to be excessive with the public display of affection, although he still had his fingers locked with hers. "Also woke up late today?"

"Yeah... My phone ran out of battery overnight," as she said that, Ryuunosuke took notice of the portable charger on her lap that was connected to her phone with a cord.

So that explains why she hasn't once replied to him when he messaged her earlier his morning.

"You're probably tired from the train ride," he said, relaxing onto his seat once more. "I don't think the bus will move anytime soon, so might as well take a short nap then..."

"You too," Kaho giggled softly. "I saw you running through the station earlier and nearly ran onto one of the pillars."

"No you didn't," Ryuunosuke immediately denied, his face slowly heating up.

Kaho leaned onto his shoulder with a teasing smirk. "Sure I didn't..."

"Just go to sleep."

[puckngrind]

Strike out - M. Tkachuk

Warning: consumption of alcohol

Word count: 2,326

I said I would never write for him yet here we are...enjoy.

“Hello there.” A smooth voice was in your ear as you slowly turn to see who had crowded into your space when there was clearly enough room on either side of you.

“Hi.” You recognized him as Johnny’s teammate immediately. He has hit on you before and you aren’t sure by the look in his eye if he knows this.

“I’m Matthew but you can call me Matty.” His body is angled towards yours as he leans on the counter behind you.

“Ew. Does that really work? You know, with the ladies?” The words rolled off your tongue.

Matthew straighten up and runs his fingers through his curls. “I mean, yeah. It kinda does. Maybe I should start over. Hi, I’m Matthew.” His hand drops from his hair and extends to you. You look at it for a few seconds longer than you should then place your hand in his.

“Hi I’m (y/n) but I’ve always heard them call you Chucky?” Your eyes flash over to the table where Johnny and a few of his other teammates are setting up a table for cards. A sly grin creeps across your face as you look back up into his eyes and see them process. You notice a slight pink on his cheek and wonder if that was there before or not.

“Well fuck. Yeah. I’m assuming you are here with one of my teammates then?” Matthew steps back giving you space.

“I know Johnny. I’ve been to a party before. You’ve met me.” You lean on the counter and cross your arms.

“Damnit. Did I hit on you then too?” Matthew’s fingers pinch the bridge of his nose as you nod your head. “I’m sorry I don’t remember.” He whispers.

“I’m guessing you don’t say that a lot?” You start to laugh.

“What? That I don’t remember a girl I hit on? No, normally I don’t strike out.” He admits.

“Well that’s a bold statement but I was referring to the saying sorry thing.” You place your hand on his chest and pat. “Maybe I’ll talk to you next time I’m at one of these things.” You start to walk out of the kitchen and he catches your wrist and spins you around. “What the fuuccc...” your body crashes into the solid chest of Matthew.

“Sorry.” He murmurs as his eyes meet yours. “I just wanted to say sorry.” He let you go and quickly retreated to a group of his teammates on the opposite end of the loft. You shake off the interaction and make your way to Johnny.

“You good (y/n)?” Johnny pulls you into a side hug as you feel Matthew’s eyes on you from across the room.

“Yeah. Whatcha playing?” Johnny kisses the top of your head and explains. You watch for a bit then head towards the patio for some fresh Calgary air. The door opens and closes but you don’t look to see who joined you.

“I didn’t realize you were WITH Johnny. I’m seriously sorry.” Matthew’s voice is low as he steps an arms length from you and leans in the railing.

“I’m not. He’s my only friend here. We’ve known each other forever.” You turn to look at Matthew who seems to be processing the information.

“Oh, I saw... fuck... never mind.” His face drops to his hands as he grips his curls. He seems so sincere from the first encounter that evening and nothing like the asshole he was when you first met him.

You sit in silence for awhile. Just staring up at the sky. “Calgary is really pretty.” You whisper.

“Yeah.” Matthew’s voice is barely above a whisper. “You should see the view from my place. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. That’s not how it sounded. Shit. I’m just gonna stop fucking talking and head back in.” You see the pink again in his cheeks and in the cooler Calgary air it’s either from you or the alcohol.

“You don’t have to. I find it funny.” You smile.

“You find me funny? Really? Why?” Matthew’s eyebrows knit together processing how.

“I can see why girls fall for you. And your normal approach would normally work for me if it wasn’t for the fact that you were such an ass when we met last time.” You go to continue and he cuts you off.

“I seriously don’t remember and I’m sure I was a giant ass to you. Your pretty, (y/n). And while I would love to take you back to my place I’m sure I have majorly screw that up.” He huffs out while staring as his shoes then his gaze moves to your eyes. “I really am sorry. I hope this doesn’t mean you will stop hanging out with the team.”

“It doesn’t but I’m heading home alone now.  Good night Chucky.” You pat his shoulder and head home for the night.

A few weeks later Johnny had convinced you to come to a game and have drinks afterwards. The game was intense. Matthew fought one of the other players and you were sure by the third he was ready to fight another. From the sounds of the grown ass men around you it was just him getting his team fired up. You had been to plenty of Johnny’s games over the years but never noticed who was fighting when it happened. The game ended and you made your way to where Johnny told you to meet him. Flipping through your phone while leaning against the wall out of the way.

“Hey (y/n).” Matthew’s voice was soft and you looked up at his fresh black eye.

“Hey Matthew.” You smile then wince. “Ouch, that looks painful.” Your fingers go to touch it and you pull back realizing it’s not your place.

“Nah. Stings a little but I’m use to it. So, you coming out for drinks?” He smiles at you with his hand firmly in his pockets. You notice he’s rocking back and forth on his feet too.

“Yeah. Riding with Johnny. Assuming you will be there?” Your eyes narrow at his expression.

“Yeah, maybe I can buy you a drink to make up for all the asshole ways I’ve been?”

“That might require more than one then.” You smirk and he laughs.

“Ready (y/n)?” Johnny slides in next to you and you nod.

The bar was packed. You were thankful for the second bar in the VIP section after wading through the sea of people all recognizing the boys. You especially noticed the attention Matthew was getting on the way there.

“So that drink? Or two? Or three?” Matthew’s voice came from behind you as you waited to order. He instructed the bartender your drinks were on his tab regardless of how much you complained.

“You don’t have to.” You stare up at him.

“Yeah, I kinda do.” His smile reached his eyes as your first round appeared in front of you. The boys were crowded over at the corner but Matthew stood at the bar with you. “So, if I asked you to dance would you say no?” He sipped on his drink but his eyes never left yours.

“No.” You hide your smirk as you drink slowly.

“So, (y/n), wanna dance with an asshole with a black eye?” He held out his hand and you shrugged your shoulders but put your hand in his anyway. You handed your drinks to Johnny who’s eyebrows were dancing. As Matthew leads you to the dance floor you hear a murmur from the boys.

“Gonna be strike three for Matty!” One chirp caught your ear and you whipped your head to see Johnny’s head nod in approval again.

“Did he just say...?” You looked up at Matthew how has an annoyed look on his face.

“Ignore those dumbasses. I do.” Matthew smiles down at you as you reach the dance floor. You start to move and Matthew pulls your body into his. Your hands absentmindedly move around his neck as your bodies move together with the beat. You tickle at the curls on the back of his neck. Matthew moves his hands to yours and grabs them to spin you around then brings you right into him. “I really am sorry about the last two times we’ve seen each other.” His breath hot in your ear. His lips ghosting your skin.

“You weren’t such an ass the last time you know.” You whisper and he looks at you bewildered then brings his ear to your lips. “You aren’t that big of an ass is all I said.” As he lifts up you see the edges of his lips curl up into a smile. You dance a little more before you both are in need of a drink. Mingling with the other boys you notice the attention Matthew was getting from the girls with barely any clothes on which seemed absurd for November in Calgary. The night was coming to a close and Matthew pulled you to the side.

“So...” he started.

“I’m going home Matthew.” You stated.

“That’s good but not what I was going to say.” This time it was your cheeks turning pink. “Would you want to come over for dinner tomorrow? Maybe let me make up for my asshole ways.” His smile was sincere.

“I don’t know.” You look up at his tired eyes.

“Go.” You hear Johnny from behind you and you look as he puts both thumbs up in approval.

“I... I... sure.” You conceded.

The next evening you stood at the door Matthew sent you directions too. Your hand went up to knock and you stopped.

“Are you going to knock or should I just open the door?” Matthew’s voice boomed from behind the door. You giggled and knocked lightly. “Who is it?” His voice questioned.

“I’ll just leave Tkachuk!” You crossed your arms across your chest.

The door swings open. “Please don’t.” His smiles reached his eyes as his arm swooped to invite you in. He shuts the door and helps you take off your coat. “You look really nice.” He whispers behind you.

“Thanks.” You take in his place. You expected the typical young bachelor’s pad and your eyes were deceiving you as your took in the contemporary yet warm surroundings. “I like your place. Not what I expected.” You follow him in and he heads towards the kitchen.

“I’m not sure how to take that but make your self comfortable. Dinner is almost ready. Wine?” He pulls an oven mitt on and opens the oven. The smell makes your mouth water.

“You cooked? Like not take out?” Your eyebrow shoots up as you attempt not to check out his ass while he leans into the oven. His curls bob as he looks over at you.

“Yeah. My momma taught me well, okay?” He closes the oven.

“I’m impressed Matthew.” You grab the glass of wine he had waiting for you.

“See, not just an ass.” His hip pops up and smirks.

“Jury is still out there Matty.” You bite the inside of your cheek and he laughs.

The conversation was easy as Matthew plated the food and you two took your seats enjoying the amazing dinner he created. He opened up about how he grew up and you both talked about the difference between home and Calgary. “Matthew, I have to ask you something.” You looked up at him as he was clearing your plate.

“Anything, (y/n).” He trotted back to the kitchen and rinsed the dishes off before setting them in the sink. You followed him.

“What’s all this about?” Your fingers dance to him and the now consumed dinner.

“I made you dinner?” His eye brow raises with his questioning tone.

“Yeah, yeah, but also at the bar when there were plenty of girls you could have taken home that night waiting for you to leave my side but you didn’t. And the patio at the party...” you trail off and your eyes dart to his patio remembering the view.

“Wanna see the view?” Matthew ignores the rest of your statement and motions for his patio. You step out into the cool air and your breath isn’t taken away by it but the view.

“You were right. It’s amazing.” You feel a chill shoot down your spine and you jump. Matthew walks away for a moment and comes back with a blanket from his couch. Wrapping you up in it his hands pull hit tight to you and he holds you there. “Thanks.” You whisper.

“You are something else you know?” He tugs the blanket and your body closer to him. “So, yes, my intentions the first time encounters were not the best. You are sexy as hell and I definitely was trying to sleep with you. Then watching you interact with my friend I wanted to know more.” His eyes were soft as his words processed in your head.

“So you don’t want to sleep with me now?” You nose crinkles up and you stare into his eyes then drop to his lips. A hint of his tongue pokes out of the smile that grows.

“I didn’t say that but I don’t just want to sleep with you. I might be an ass but I’d like you to consider maybe going on another date with me?” His head dips down so you feel him breathing on your skin. Goosebumps over your body with the sensation of having him that close to you.

“Matt, I...” he doesn’t let you finish before his lips are pressed to yours. You kiss him back in a way you’ve never done before. Breaking for air his forehead rests on yours.

“So go on another date with me?” He smiles sweetly. You press your lips to his slightly.

“Maybe.” You whisper.

“So, no longer an ass?” He laughs.

“I didn’t say that now did I?” You kiss him again feeling his laugh radiate throughout your body.

[vexfulfolly]

The Fondest Memories

hi @cosmicpines I was your gifter for @codesecretsanta!!! I hope you enjoy!

It seemed like a great idea, bringing Aelita into the real world and enrolling her at their school. It wasn’t like they didn’t have time to plan things out— to make sure her transition was as smooth as possible— because they had plenty of time to do so. Whether or not that time was spent agonizing over details that were practically meaningless until confronted later. We’ll cross that bridge when we get there was their daily motto for almost an entire year. 

So they weren’t exactly thinking it all the way through when they created Aelita’s new identity. At a glance, it was watertight. No one would dare to look too deep into anyone associated with the de la Robbias. Looking at Odd’s records was an absolute mess, so why even bother with Aelita’s? 

It was a quick way to get her in the door and out of deep scrutiny, but that in and of itself presented problems. Like right now. It was a month before winter break and each warrior’s family was making plans to bring their children home for the holidays. Except Aelita. 

As it stood, there were only two viable options; someone had to take Aelita home with them (which would be the markedly tougher option), or someone would have to stay behind with her. Despite being somewhat acclimated to Earth, she was still wobbling on fawn-like legs during social situations. Or most situations, granted she was unsupervised. 

Which was what brought everyone together on a crisp afternoon in early November, piled into Jérémie’s room and in deep discussion.

“I hate to say it, but I can’t stay,” Jérémie sighed. “My parents have already booked a flight for me. They thought having a tropical Christmas would be a good idea for some reason.” 

To add insult to injury, he sounded truly apologetic. 

“I’ll be around the corner, but granted I don’t stay at the dorms anyway, my parents definitely won’t take well to me “sneaking off” during family time,” Yumi grimaced, making sure her displeasure over the last few words was clear. 

If the rest of the conversation went as positively as this first two minutes had, they were all screwed. The only two people that remained were Odd and Ulrich— the two people most likely to want to stay at Kadic through the break. 

Odd snorted. “My parents won’t even notice if I’m here or there, but they did book train tickets. If I never showed, they wouldn’t care. So, what say you, good buddy? Am I staying behind or have you already worked it out?” 

Every eye fell on Ulrich in anticipation. 

“I’m staying,” he said simply. 

He was met with several sighs of relief, and one disappointed Odd. “You’re really gonna make me go?” He pouted, though it sounded more like a demand. 

“Yeah, otherwise Jim will get suspicious of too many of us staying behind. Besides, you’ll be able to let Kiwi play in the snow without worrying about getting caught.” 

The resulting whine from the blonde was a cross between exasperation and resignation, and Ulrich had never heard a sound so sweet. Aelita decided she’d make presence known at that point, carefully patting the blonde on the back as he grumbled. “Well, what do you even do over a break? Especially the winter one?” She asked. 

Ulrich shrugged. “Winter stuff.” 

The topic was dropped. 

The first day of the winter break was reserved exclusively for seeing the gang off. Most kids were heading home, though a teeny-tiny minority stayed behind. Ulrich and Aelita were now a part of that minority. 

By the time everyone had left the school, and the halls no longer buzzed with sound, dinner was ending and it was almost curfew. Aelita and Ulrich had spaghetti and meatballs together— much to Odd’s vocal displeasure when he saw it on that evening’s menu— and parted once they reached the dorms. 

“What will we be doing tomorrow?” Aelita asked. 

Ever the over-communicator, Ulrich glanced out the window at the blanket of snow that never seemed to stop growing. “I’ll introduce you to normal winter stuff. Dress warm, we’ll be outside,” he said before waving. “Good night.” 

The next morning found Ulrich walking Aelita through the woods. They wound through thickets and tall snow banks, truly getting to experience what winter had to offer. It was a quiet walk (though, at this point, it was more of a hike than a walk). As they approached the tree line, Aelita’s emerald eyes caught sight of the factory from between the bare trunks. 

“The factory?” She blinked, like it was the last place she’d expect to see. “Why are we here?”

“We’re not here for the factory,” Ulrich started. The duo broke through the edge of the forest and basked in the midday sun. It was then that Aelita noticed that the water that acted like a moat was frozen. 

“We’re here for the lake.” 

Suffice to say, without ice skates, music, and other skaters, the duo were nothing but inelegant. Ulrich taught Aelita how to slide about on the ice, how to skid into something resembling a stop, and getting her to glide backwards. Eventually their ice skating devolved into races around the factory, and to hockey— which they played with two tree branches and a pine cone. 

By the time they started heading back to the school, the sky was dimming. Aelita’s cheeks were cherry red and her breath was coming in short puffs of exhaustion, but the grin on her lips was the most genuine thing. Ulrich even found his own lips tilting upward at the sound of her elated laughter. 

“Oh, that was wonderful, Ulrich!” She beamed, bouncing to and fro through the snow banks. “Can we do this again tomorrow?”

He fought off a chuckle. “Sure. I can show you the other stuff later.” 

Though her curiosity was piqued, she didn’t inquire further about the “other stuff”. Ulrich was coming to realize that she liked surprises. 

Aelita hummed happily the entire walk back to Kadic. The thought made Ulrich warm. When they stumbled back indoors, the fiery sensation of needles on bare skin told the duo they’d been out a bit too long. The back of Ulrich’s thighs were on fire, and Aelita’s fingers cried out in pain. 

She was wincing and nervously shifting her weight from foot to foot when Ulrich pulled her out of her head. 

“There’s only one cure to freezer burn,” he started leading her to the cafeteria, though dinner wasn’t going to be served for hours. “C’mon, I’ll show you how to make it.” 

When they made it into the cafeteria, Ulrich made straight for the kitchen doors, which gave Aelita pause. Students weren’t allowed in the kitchen on a good day— what made Ulrich think trying to get in there over winter break would be a better idea? Even then, one of the lunch ladies was probably in there starting on dinner. They’d be caught in no time, so what was Ulrich planning? 

“You coming, Princess?” 

Aelita had been so deep in thought that she’d completely stopped walking, and was staring intently at Ulrich’s relaxed form. 

“Are you sure that—“

“We’ll be fine. Trust me.” 

With Ulrich acting as cocksure and confident as Odd, Aelita could do nothing more than follow behind him and hope for the best. The moment the door swished shut behind her, Ulrich was greeting Glenda with a nod before heading to the opposite side of the kitchen. He flitted in and out of cupboards and pantry doors before placing a shallow pot on the stove. 

He was still gathering things here and there when Aelita asked, “Why aren’t we getting in trouble?”

Ulrich placed two mugs side by side on the counter. “Odd and I have had our fair share of early mornings and late evenings. Glenda’s always the first one in and the last to leave. Let’s just say, she’s fine with us being here so long as the other students don’t know and we pick up after ourselves.”

Aelita didn’t know why she was so surprised by that fact. Of course, every warrior had their fair share of trauma from Xana. If Odd and Ulrich suffered from nightmares or insomnia, Aelita was no one to judge. Shaking herself from her thoughts, she watched as Ulrich melted a good amount of chocolate in the pot before mixing in some milk. He stirred it lightly for a few minutes more before splitting the contents of the pan between the two mugs. He added a tad extra milk to each one before passing the pinkette a plastic spoon. 

Ulrich tilted his mug in her direction, as if to toast. “To winter break?” He asked. 

“To winter break,” she replied. 

Their cups clinked together, and the second day of winter break came to a close. 

“Since when did you know how to cook?” Aelita asked later that evening. “I didn’t take you as one to— not to offend— be knowledgeable about it.”

Ulrich chuckled lightly. “I’m a terrible cook, I just know how to make hot chocolate. My mother taught me when I was younger. Every year we’d play hockey in brook behind the house, and when we came back we’d make hot chocolate to warm us up.”

Ulrich hasn’t said that many words directly to Aelita for almost as long as they’ve known each other. 

Aelita smiles tentatively. “That’s… really nice.”

Ulrich hums warmly before waving good night to the girl. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, bright and early,” he says. 

And Aelita can’t stymie the excited laugh that bubbles up from within. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” 

Even as they walk their separate ways, Aelita likes to think she sees a ghost of a smile on his lips in the reflection on the windows. 

By the time winter break is over, Aelita has been officially inducted into the exclusive group of students given kitchen rights. Four days after starting classes once again, Aelita finds herself standing in the kitchen at half past the witching hour, wondering why her world weary body brought her here. When Glenda sees the girl half asleep in her cup of cocoa, she simply gives the girl a nudge and pushes her out. “Wait! I didn’t get to do the dishes!” She tries to argue. 

“Get some sleep before classes start, and I might forgive ‘ya,” Glenda tuts, and Aelita knows that the lunch lady has won this round. 

When Aelita curls up in her bed, anxieties and nightmares long forgotten, she takes in the lingering scene of hot chocolate in the air and thinks about Ulrich and the week of shrieking laughter and restrained joy they shared. 

Aelita sleeps through the first three classes and shuffles down for lunch looking like death warmed over, but Glenda serves her the best part of the lasagna with a knowing look, and the young girl dines with her friends. 

She feels more like a living, breathing human at that moment than during any other. 

To her, the most human emotion isn’t rage or something as simple as love, she thinks it’s the gleeful innocence of playing in the snow on a cold day, and the creature comfort that is fuzzy socks and diamond snow. 

She no longer feels in binary and thinks in CSS. 

The girl that is Aelita Stones is born on a cloudy day in December, and she is utterly grateful to the boy who pushed her into the wild and wonderful world she now resides in (even if he pushed her into a snowbank to do it).