#so uhm I’ve been really busy and i haven’t really had time to do art

[hinaliix]

Uh…hi

[justafrogandherumbrella]

Welcome to Nowhere: Investigation

AN: Huge thanks to my evil friend who tortures me with sexy drawings of Mr. Rotary and makes other cool art for helping me write today's update!

It was… whatever you supposed passed for night in this place, you guess. The sky is dark, and everyone has since left Dispassion Offices and gone home. But not you. You’re lying in a filthy ditch outside Bianca’s house with a walkie-talkie.

“Alfalfa member, this is Turtle Pope. Can you hear me? Over.”

You have no idea why Bianca  decided to call you “Alfalfa member” and herself “Turtle pope,” but you assume there has to be some hidden meaning behind it that you don’t understand. You aren’t really complaining about the names anyway.

“I can hear you. Over.”

“Great. You and Slug Boi still remember the plan, right? Over.”

“Yes. over.” Neither of you feel confident enough to point out that Bianca had never told you any plan.

“I don’t know why I’m called ‘Slug Boi,’” complained Emerson, who’s laying in the grass beside you. “It feels objectifying.”

“I don’t think she meant anything by it,” you tried to console them. 

“Yeah, probably.” he said, and turned green again. Are they sick? 

“Sorry.” Bianca’s voice says over the walkie-talkie. “I can give you a new code name if you want. Over.”

“Yeah, that would be nice. Over.”

“Okay, any ideas? Over.” 

“Uhm, does ‘lake prince’ sound okay to you? Over.” Emerson asks, looking a little embarrassed. 

“Uhm- I guess, why that though? Over.”

“N-no reason. Over.” They flush green again. 

 Ohhh. Oh ho ho ho…  Now you think you understand. “Emerson… Do you have a crush on her?” If they do, it would make sense as to why you hadn’t seen these new sets of expressions on him until now…

“Ssshh-” Emerson hisses sharply, even though the walkie-talkies are off and no one can hear you anyways. “I- I don’t know! I don’t really know her well enough to say that… “ His cheeks flush even deeper, turning their face a bright emerald. “She is… cute though.”

You feel like teasing them, but you think if they get any greener, their face would explode. You don’t want their face to explode. “I see… why the name lake prince though?”

“I–I like romance stories about royalty.” they stammer, scratching the back of their head. “It might be the name of my newest sock puppet too…” 

You vaguely  remember them mentioning that they like to make sock puppets. Although, if you remember correctly, it’s a hobby he’s a little embarrassed by. You’ve seen some of their sock puppets though- and they aren’t just ordinary puppets. They’re always really well crafted and thought out.  With how creative they get, you find it a little silly that he’s embarrassed.

“Can I see it?”

Emerson shakes their head. “I haven’t made it yet, I’ve only drafted the design. But I’ll show you once it’s finished.”

You’re glad he’s willing to show you. When you first met he… he- 

You don’t remember. 

You don’t remember meeting Emerson. Were they unwilling to show you their hobbies when you met? You’re not sure. How long ago did you meet? You had to have met at some point, right? You know logically that you haven’t always been with him- and that you haven’t  always been fighting monsters. 

You don’t remember meeting Gia either. Not anymore. What were they like when you met? Were they always the leader of the group? Did you meet them before or after they started to hunt monsters? 

What about Bea, their dog? Were you there when Gia found her? Or were Bea and Gia already a duo by the time you met?

Just how much have you forgotten?

It doesn’t matter. 

“Rue, are you alright?” Emerson asks, looking concerned. “You look a little… afraid?”

“Uhm, y-yeah, I just…” you mutter, your voice quivering. 

You don’t want to forget. 

“It’s just that-”

“Is anyone going to tell me what we’re doing here? Over.” Gia’s irritated voice says over the walkie-talkie. 

Oh, that’s right. When you had gone to your second job at the office, you hadn’t had much of a chance to explain the new situation to Gia. The both of you were kept pretty busy, so the only chance you had to talk to them was as you were leaving work, when it was already dark out and it was time to go. 

“Oh… we’re spying on Bianca’s dad. Mr. Rotary. Over.” 

“Holy shit.” said Gia incredulously. “Are you serious? Over.”

There’s a pause in conversation before their voice comes back through the speaker. “Never mind, Aderyn’s explaining the situation to me.”

You’re doing this “mission” in sets of two. Each of you are hidden in separate positions around the house- except for Bianca and her friend, Jenny, who are inside Bianca’s room. Emerson is your partner, and you two are situated in the ditch outside Bianca’s house. Meanwhile, Gia and Aderyn are seated by each other in the lemon trees Mayor Miller had grown in the backyard. 

“Hey, quick question-” Gia says. “Why did you make my codename ‘Bread Lord?’ I don’t think it makes much sense… Over.”

“I don’t know. Ask Bianca, she was the one who chose the names. Over.” you say. 

“If it makes you feel better,” Jenny pipes in. “We all have really weird code names. Mine is ‘butter god.’ I don’t even know what that means! Over.”

“Yeah,” Aderyn’s voice says bitterly. “And I’m ‘muscular shopping cart.’ I’m so confused. Over.”

“Guys, don’t worry about it. What’s important is finding out what the fuck is wrong with my dad. Over.” Bianca interrupts.

Oh yeah. You had gotten so caught up in the codename crap that you forgot what you’re really here for.

“Sooo, what’s the plan? Over.” Aderyn asks. 

“Don’t tell me you forgot,” Bianca groans. “I told you what it was, like, five times! Over.”

“No, you didn’t.” 

“Guys, she’s just messing with you.” Jenny’s voice says, sounding amused. “She’s burst into a giggling fit over here. Over.”

“Right, okay.” Emerson says. “So what is the plan? Over.”

“Well,” Bianca says hesitantly. “There kind of… isn’t… one? Over.”

“What do you mean there isn’t a plan?!” Gia hisses angrily.  “Why did you have us come over here in the first place? Over.”

“I thought I would have thought of something by now, okay!” Bianca says defensively. “I have a vague idea of what we need to do- I just don’t know how to pull it off! Over.”

“Her dad’s really strict about his home office- and even though Bianca lives here, she can’t get past his weird lock.” Jenny explains. “We need to figure out a way to get the doors open. Over.”

“Can’t you just pick the lock?” Aderyn asks. “I could do it for you, if you need it. Over.”

“That won’t work.” Bianca says sadly. “It’s a fuckin’ weird lock. Also, why do you know how to pick locks? Over.”

“... reasons. Also, maybe if I can see the lock, I can figure out what’s up with it? Over.”

“Uhm, sure, if we can get you inside without being caught. Over.”

“We would need some kind of distractio-” You start to say, stopping when you hear the crunch of dead grass under a pair of shoes come from behind you. 

“Oh, fuck.” Emerson whispers, panicked.

 “Well, well, well,” Mr. Rotary says with cheerful malice, placing his hand on your shoulder. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”

[harryspet]

cement walls | bucky barnes

[Warnings] dark!bucky barnes x reader, non/dubcon sex, fingering, kidnapping, forced pregnancy, confined spaces, Stockholm syndrome(?), post-blip bucky, bucky needs some therapy, forced gender roles

[A/N] uhm so this is what i’ve been working on and like usual i have no idea where i wanna take it :):) i haven’t posted in a long while so i figured i would put this out there for some feedback! this is pretty much inspired by Room if you’ve seen that movie. [gif credit to https://jamesbrnes.tumblr.com/]

In which the outside world is too dangerous for you and Bucky is the only one who can protect you. 

taglist: @cherienymphe @lovelynerdytraveler @buckysbunny @hollandsdream @micki-smiles @buckybarnesplumwhore @arts-ismything @saharzek @what-is-your-wish @brattypeony @hermayone @buckysugar @mischiefmanaged011 @visintaes  @watercoolerpaint @disaster-rose @slutforsebstan​ @doozywoozy​

main masterlist

word count: 3.3k

Within the cement walls that surrounded your home, you imagined that you had your own little planet. You spent hours of your days thinking about what surrounded you, if there were floating rings like Saturn had, the constellations you could make out only if you could only see the entire sky, and how the sun would really feel on your bare skin. You were beginning to forget what that felt like and you sat below the skylight trying to reach into your mind and remember.

Maybe you should be grateful that there was even a skylight at all and that there was enough room for a small kitchen and bathroom. You imagined that's what he thought. You could move around freely with no chains so you should be grateful. Almost three-hundred square feet of your new planet that you should be glad to have. Except you didn’t even own the ground you stood on, this planet wasn’t really yours, you were just an astronaut trapped in space. 

That morning, you scrubbed the floors, not only because the military man preferred organization but also because the small space got dirty quickly. After taking your vitamins, extra Vitamin D of course, and munching on a stale granola bar, you got to work. You made the twin bed up, making sure the sheets were tucked in tightly before organizing the small amount of clothes in the wardrobe. 

When you heard the beeping of the keypad outside the door, you stood up, shutting the wardrobe. You weren’t expecting him, not having gotten to the kitchen yet, but alas your moon man appeared. You couldn’t help it, you always looked past him to see what you could have of the outside world. You saw nothing, his figure was only surrounded in darkness as he shut it quickly, and it beeped as the metal door locked again. 

It was like he liked the idea of you not knowing where you were. He’d brought you into this room unconscious so you had no idea whether you were still in Louisiana or not. For all you knew, you could be floating in space and it wouldn’t matter. 

The tall man’s hair was cut short, like he’d just gotten a haircut, and you hated that the room was already beginning to smell like his cologne. He held a brown bag of what you assumed were groceries, “You haven’t been here in more than two weeks. I’ve been cleaning my clothes in the sink. I started rationing food t-thinking you weren’t going to come back.”

He set the bag down on the small kitchen table and you watched his eyes roam over the dirty dishes, “I wouldn’t leave you here, doll face,” Bucky assured you, “C’mere.” He waved you over and you stepped forward cautiously. 

“W-Where did you go?”

He reached up to hold your face, the leather brushing against your cheeks as he looked you over. You wore a green smock dress with a cardigan tightly over you, the box having been cold the past few days, “I had business. Far away business.”

“You’ve never been gone this long.”

“Did you miss me that much?” You wanted to roll your eyes. If Bucky didn’t come back, you’d die in probably the worst way possible and no one would know what happened to you, “I brought you back plenty of groceries, I even got you some oreos and that fancy bread you like.”

“Bucky …. I-I was so so scared. You don’t understand-” He leaned down to kiss you and when your lips didn’t move against his, he grabbed you roughly by your hair. You held in your yelp as you forced your lips to move against his. He held your hips, deepening the kiss and when he pulled away, his hands were still in your hair. 

“I’m here now, “ He looked at you sharply, tugging your hair a bit, “But it seems you can’t keep the kitchen clean, no matter how much time I give you.”

“I’m sorry,” You apologized, the words slipping out before you could even register them. 

He gestured his head over to the sink, “Get to it. And the groceries as well.” 

You moved past him, turning on the warm water before grabbing a sponge. You felt his eyes on your back as you began to clean all the pots and pans you’d been using. You heard the rattling of his belt, his jeans being pulled down, the sound of his boots being stacked to the side, and the grunt he let out when he tossed his jacket over the kitchen chair. 

When you placed everything in the drying rack, you moved onto the bag of groceries. He had gotten the bread you liked so you had something to look forward to that week, “I had to see that lady again.”

“You mean your therapist?”

“It’s court mandated bullshit,” You looked over and he was examining your desk and bookshelf. All the books you had were given to you by him and all the decorations were paper origami that you’d gotten good at making. 

“What did you guys talk about?” You asked hesitantly, putting things away in the cabinet. 

“She thinks I need more friends, more social interactions I suppose but that’s what she says every week,” You heard your bed creak as he sat down, “Hey, make me a cup of coffee, doll.”

“Oh,” It was clear that whatever that therapist was doing, wasn’t work, the biggest piece of evidence being the girl he was holding captive right now. You moved over to the coffee pot, pouring what was left into his favorite mug, “Do you … ever talk about me?”

You could feel his body stiffen even from across the room. 

“Why would I?” When you turned around, his eyebrows were furrowed, his hands on his knees. 

You crossed the small room with the cup in hand, “Well, you interact with me. I’m like your friend, right?” You handed him the drink, standing back as you watched him take a sip, hoping he’d be satisfied with it. 

“You know why I can’t tell her about you, Y/N.”

You shook your head, “Yeah, I was just thinking … “ You sat down a few feet away from him, “Does anyone else know about me?”

“You’re curious today.”

“It’s not like I have much entertainment in here,” You said a little more snarky than you intended. You felt his mechanical arm push into the mattress beside you as he turned his head, “Sorry … when do you think I’ll get to leave the room? Not outside, just out of the room. Maybe to where you sleep at night.”

“If you’re going to be like this today-”

“Forget I said anything,” You smiled weakly, “Please.”

Bucky set down his cup on the small nightstand before he urged you closer. You scooted closer and he gently pushed your head down until it was resting in his lap. You felt his cold hand through your sweater and the other through your hair, “I know what it’s like … feeling trapped,” You pulled your feet onto the bed and he continued to stroke your hair and you welcomed the comforting touch. 

“Then why …”

He shushed you, “Mind over matter, Y/N. It’s all about training your mind to adjust. You’re safer here, you’re taken care of here, and your mind is still trying to convince you that you don’t belong here.”

“I wouldn’t try to escape if I could just stay with you…”

He shushed you again, “I spent decades frozen and then, after that, I was trapped in my own mind. Now everyone’s trying to convince me that I have this new chance to survive in the world. They genuinely think of this new century as being so amazing, so much technology, and opportunities but it’s a lie, Y/N. This world is nothing but danger and death. You’re much better without it.”

You felt a tear roll down your cheeks. You felt like the chains around you were only getting heavier. He was so delusional that you thought it would be easier to start believing him, “Please don’t leave for that long again.”

Bucky sighed, “I’ll stay here for the night. How does that sound?”

You hiccuped, “T-Thank you.”

Later that night, you were lying beside bucky in the small bed. He was fast asleep but you were wide awake, looking up at the skylight. The full moon was lighting up the room. Carefully, you tossed your feet over the bed, doing your best not to disturb the soldier. You got onto the floor, crawling towards the carpet in the middle of the room. Oftentimes, when you couldn’t sleep, you’d lay down and stare up at the moon. 

You stayed like that for lord knows how long, drifting into a place where all your thoughts were silent. 

“What are you doing?” You sat up quickly, your heart racing as his gruff voice snapped you from your trance. 

He was shirtless, standing above you, and rubbing his tired eyes. You simply pointed up, “The moon.”

“Get back in bed,” He commanded groggily. 

You scooted over slightly, “I can’t sleep ... just come look with me. It’s beautiful.”

“You act like you’ve never seen the fucking moon before, Y/N,” His frustration caught you off guard as he reached down to grab you by your arm. You didn’t mean to but, on instinct, you flinched away. That only led him to grabbing your harder, and you stumbled as he pulled you up, “Get in the bed. You scare me to death when I wake up and can’t feel you.”

“If you care so much then why do you leave me in here for weeks on end.”

His eyes flickered with hurt for a moment, “I won’t … ever again. You need far too much discipline for me to let you be on your own for so long.” You rolled your eyes as you turned away, walking towards the bed. 

He grabbed you roughly by your waist, pushing you onto the bed. He pushed you further into the mattress, his hand on the back on your neck, and you were reminded just how cruel he could be. There was a point months ago when you stopped fighting it, knowing in the end he would overpower you, but sometimes your spark appeared. 

He lifted your nightgown easily, knowing he wouldn’t find any underwear to tear off, and his hand cupped between your legs. As you struggled beneath him, he felt you, rubbing and running his fingers over your lips, “Me being deep inside you seems to correct your mood. Is that what you need from me, doll face?”

Your spark appeared and went quickly, knowing he could feel your wetness, giving him the permission to sink two of fingers inside you. He moved slow, his knees pressed deep into the bed, as he watched your lips part with a gasp. 

“That’s it …”

This was his favorite, knowing he could get you off with just his fingers, his fingers curling against your most sensitive areas. He fastened his pace, pushing in and out of you as you lay there bent over. Knowing you were nearing an orgasm you were sure not to run away from, he moved his vibranium arm from your neck and underneath you where he stimulated your sensitive bud. 

“That’s my girl,” He coaxed you as he sent you into a shaking fit, “You finish so well on my fingers, so beautifully.” You came hard, Bucky enjoying the vulnerable view of your face. As he let you go, you pushed down your gown and laid down on your side. The bed dipped as he took a seat, rubbing your thighs as the post-orgasm regret filled you. 

“You ever think you have some control over me, I want you to remember this.”

8 months later … 

You flipped through the channels six channels that the old television would provide. The soldier thought buying you one would decrease your book intake which he was struggling to keep up with as you read several per week. He wasn’t a fan of technology but the two of you had a long argument about it and he eventually caved. 

You weren’t sure if he knew but the TV picked up a local news channel and you got a glimpse into what the world had been like over the past year. Every now and then, there’d be a mention of Sam Wilson and you figured that’s who he was disappearing with when he was gone for weeks at a time. 

As you neared closer and closer to your due date, he’d grown nicer than usual, though the way he’d gotten you pregnant wasn’t pleasant at all. “You complain so much about being lonely.” He had said when you’d missed your period, “This is what you wanted, right?” 

You weren’t sure if you were just nauseous from the pregnancy or if the idea of raising a baby in that room was making you sick to your stomach. Sometimes you caught yourself being selfish, thinking about having someone to take care of and take up your time. Having someone who could love you properly, in a way that Bucky didn’t quite understand. 

“How’s my girl? And how’s my mini me?” Bucky was an abnormally good move when he came down to visit you that night. He was carrying magazines in his hand and you crossed the room, curious to see the details, “I thought you might want to look at nursery stuff.”

“There’s gonna be a nursery,” Your lips pulled into a smile, “Where?”

“Here,” He gestured around and your smile fell, “You can’t be too far from the little tike. I was thinking we could put the crib where your desk is.”

You took the magazines from him, resting them on your protruding stomach, “Oh …” You tried not to sound sad, “You don’t think that maybe the space is too small? I mean, a mom and baby and sometimes you, that’s a lot of people for one room. And when they get older ….” You imagined having a happy little baby but you tried not to think about your child growing up in a box. 

“When he gets older, we’ll think about it then,” He stated, already gendering the baby without any actual knowledge. He refused to let you see a doctor, only brought you prenatal vitamins, expecting that you’d have a smooth delivery right here in the room, “For now, it’s plenty of room.”

You nodded, “When he gets older, will you take him outside the room? Kids need space to play and get fresh air.”

“I’ll think about it, Y/N,” Bucky’s lips pressed into a thin line. 

You didn’t want to push the issue further, not wanting to spoil his mood, “I think a light green will be a good, neutral color for everything. Maybe we can decorate his side of the room.”

He smiled, “Whatever you’d like, doll face.”

You crossed the room, setting the magazines down on your desk, and a scary idea crossed your mind. A scary idea and chance you might just have to take if it meant you could get help. You were getting nowhere screaming at the top of your lungs, hoping for someone to hear you, and asking Bucky over and over again just to let you have fresh air. He was suffocatingly protective and that didn’t seem like it was gonna change. You couldn’t let him do that to your child. 

You made dinner and he slept over that night, his vibranium hand holding your waist the entire night. 

You planned to catch him off guard the next morning, figuring you’d have the best chance of causing a panic while he was still tired. You got up, whispering that you had to use the restroom, and you slipped inside the room. You read somewhere that only a fourth cup of water comes out when your water breaks, so you fill a cup before drenching your underwear, legs and the bathroom floor. 

“Bucky!” You shouted, making sure you looked scared in the mirror, “Bucky!”

The door almost flew off its hinges as the soldier went into full alert. His eyes were wide, examining you, “What-What happened?”

“I-I think my water broke,” A tear slipped down your cheek. 

“It’s too early,” He shook his head, running his fingers through his hair, “A-Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. All the books say it's a gushing feeling and that was definitely gushing.”

“Maybe we should wait … we can wait and see if contractions start-”

You shook your head furiously, cautiously stepping forward, “We have to see a Doctor. W-We have to … contractions are supposed to start before my water breaks a-and I’m only 29 weeks. I can’t have the baby naturally.”

“But-”

“We have to! Please, Bucky, a-all I care about is the baby. Please, I don’t want to lose them. Please don’t make me-”

“Okay, okay,” He nodded, grabbing your face as he wiped your tears, “Uhm …. let's get dressed. There’s a thirty minute drive to the hospital,” You nodded and his eyes narrowed at you, “This is for the baby, remember that. You pull anything and-”

“I know,” You placed your hand over your stomach, pulling away from his grasp. 

Your body was heavy when he led you out of that room. You felt your reality shifting as you entered the world again. What surprised you most was how normal the rest of the home was, not particularly homey, but it was nice and spacious. There was even a full front yard and, sadly, you imagined the happy family that could have lived here. You half-expected him to have a wife and kids that he was hiding you from. 

Now, sitting in the hospital bed, you watched him paced around, not paying attention to what the Doctor was saying. 

“So she’s not in labor? She felt her water breaking.”

“No, Sir. Based on the ultrasound, the amniotic fluid levels are normal. I’m not sure what happened, could be a multitude of things, but it was most likely a false alarm. But don’t worry, it happens all the time. And your baby looks very healthy.”

You opened your mouth to say something but Bucky’s eyes narrowed at you, a warning. 

“Okay, thank you, Doc.”

“Do you two have a primary obstetrician? One isn’t listed-”

“Are we free to leave?”

The Doctor took another look at you, as if he was trying to understand our relationship, but if he noticed anything, he didn’t say it, “Yes, you’re free to go. I would just make sure to keep a sharp eye out and give your obstetrician a call if you have a question-”

“Of course, thanks, Doc,” Bucky nodded as he forced a smile. With his dark jacket and black gloves, it was hard for him not to look intimidating. 

The Doctor looked down at you with a warm smile, “Let me know if you need anything, ma’am.”

Say something. 

Say something. 

If you were going to say something, this would be the time. Why did Bucky have such a hold on you even outside of the room?

As soon as the Doctor left the room, Bucky turned away, frustratedly packing up your bag, “Get up, get dressed, let’s go.”

“Bucky, I really did think-”

“If you don’t want someone in this hospital to get hurt, I’d get dressed and keep your mouth shut.”

You moved your legs to the side, real tears beginning to fall down your face, as you struggled to get your dress on. Bucky noticed your sniffling from the corner of his eye. He moved towards you, kneeling down beside the bed, “Hey, I’m sorry …. I’m just stressed out. I don’t like you being here ... but everything is going to be okay. Our baby is perfectly healthy and we’ll be home soon. There will be no more interruptions after this.”

You couldn’t even bring yourself to nod in agreement knowing that your own opinion didn’t matter. Bucky was god, enforcing his will on you, and claiming he knew best. You felt so small in comparison to him but there had to be something left within you that could keep fighting, that could keep you from going willingly back into that room-

“Y/N?”

You perked up, “Yes?”

“C’mon doll face, let’s go home.”

hope you enjoyed! not sure where i want to take this so feedback will be much appreciated!

[snowywrites]

Yuri x popular Fem!reader

summary: fluffy fic in which the reader sees Yuri while working at a coffee shop and intends to be closer friends with her.

word count: 2.1k

"Y/N!"

You stop in your tracks, turning to scan the tables around you for the source of the voice; it was kind of familiar, and your eyes fall on a customer that's a regular here at the coffee shop. A young man around your age, usually here with his friends but alone today.

You had been about to go make another coffee for a different customer, but you force a service smile onto your face and hurry over to his table. "Hello!" You wrack your brain for a second to bring a name to this man- it wasn't easy keeping track of so many different people, and not just at your job! You also tried to keep tabs on the majority of your peers from school, too. Fortunately, it clicks a moment later. "Hatsumi, was everything alright?" You ask, noting he's already finished his pastry and drink.

Hatsumi grins, clearly pleased you had remembered him. Customers tended to get really happy over little things like that... if only they knew you did this with all of them. It was no secret you were one of the favorites here at the little shop, consistently getting better tips than many of your coworkers. "It was great!" He answers you brightly.

You nod and inquire politely, "Would you like me to go ahead and bring the bill out now?"

A moment of hesitation, and then, "Oh- uh, yes, thanks." He seems a bit disappointed, but you don't have time to dwell on it right now, not with how busy today's rush hour is. The only good thing is you're hopefully going to be getting off in about a half hour.

You assure him you'll be right back and then flit off to the counter to ring up the items he'd ordered and print the bill. As you're doing so, you feel a tap on your shoulder.

Glancing up, you see your favorite coworker, a girl several years older than you. "Y/N," she begins, a bit of a pleading look in her eyes that means she's about to ask you for a favor.

Biting back a sigh, you push down whatever annoyance you have at being interrupted to look expectantly at her. "What's up?"

"Can we please switch tables really quickly?" She practically begs you.

Switching tables wasn't too terribly uncommon- sometimes when guests came in, the baristas would know them outside of work and might ask a coworker to deal with the order and anything else.

"Sure," you giggle, ever the people-pleaser. You had a reputation to keep, after all! You don't like to brag, but you do enjoy the fact that you have many different friends and are well-liked by just about everyone you know. "Who?"

She gives a hop of delight. "Can I take the bill to Hatsumi?"

You can't help but smirk mischievously. "Ohhhhh, I see."

She lightly smacks you on the arm, instantly blushing. "Nono, I just-"

You cut her off before she can defend herself, knowing the two of you don't really have the time to waste playing around. "It's no worries. And who's that order for?" You question as you point at the circular silver tray in her hands which is holding a cute polka-dotted cup of tea.

"Ah, this goes to table three, the girl with the purple hair."

You nod, exchanging the bill for the tray. You want to watch and see what will happen between your friend and Hatsumi, if anything, but when you look towards the designated table, already heading for it, you realize you recognize the girl sitting there.

You have no trouble recalling her name. One of the members of your Literature Club, Yuri...

You haven't actually been in the club all that long at all, maybe a week-ish, and you feel like you haven't had any time at all to get properly acquainted with Yuri. Part of you feels that it's a shame, because you get the sense she's a very interesting and sweet person beneath her quiet and distant shell. It's just hard when she's always reading, and even in the rare moments she's not, she doubts herself so much during conversations with you that it just ends up being a bit weird.

But not today! No, you're suddenly filled with a sense of determination to get closer to Yuri.

You consider playfully scaring her when you walk up, but ultimately decide against it; aside from being naturally timid anyway, she's also, as usual, reading, and doesn't seem aware of anything going on in the shop around her. So, yeah, best to use a more gentle approach.

"Hey, you," you say, putting all the friendliness in your voice as possible, stopping beside the table to greet her.

In spite of everything, Yuri still jumps a bit in her seat, violet gaze flashing up to you in alarm.

'So much for trying not to scare her,' you think unhappily. Pushing that thought away, you give her a reassuring smile. "Sorry, it's just me! Y/N. We're in the Literature Club together," you try to remind her, wondering with a pang of horror if she's actually forgotten who you are. That would be a first for you.

A second of silence, but at last Yuri's tense grip on her book loosens, and she glances down at it, avoiding making eye contact. "O-Oh, I'm sorry."

Another awkward beat of silence. This was what you meant!! It always went like this with Yuri, and you wished more than anything that you knew how to make her more comfortable around you. Hoping to carry the burden of saving this interaction, you laugh nervously, "It's no worries! But, you didn't forget me, did you?" As much as you're just trying to joke around, there really is a slight feeling of hurt that that may very well have been the case.

Yuri stiffens, quickly answering, "No, I- I didn't!" It's a rushed response, louder than you've ever heard her speak and yet still quieter than most people's normal speaking voice. As if embarrassed by her small outburst, she ducks her head to add quietly, "Uhm, that is- I just meant that... I wouldn't ever forget you, Y/N."

Oh. Talk about giving someone butterflies. You never knew what to expect with Yuri- sometimes she could never get her words out, but then other times she'd say something with such a deep meaning that it would catch you entirely off guard. What's odd though is you know for a fact how truly sincere she is; Yuri is the type of person that's much deeper than most people, and she wouldn't say something if she didn't really think or believe it.

"Thank you, Yuri," you say warmly, setting her tea down near her on the table. "Here you go! I like this kind, too." Truthfully, since you hadn't taken the order yourself or even made the drink, you weren't 100% sure what kind of tea this was, but you were willing to try anything to make Yuri more at ease. It also wasn't unheard of for you to make conversation with customers, even if it was busier than usual right now- for once though, you weren't aiming to make a good tip or secure a regular customer. You genuinely wanted to talk with her. "Hey, is that the same book you're reading at the club?" You question after catching a glimpse of the cover art.

She shakes her head, causing some of her bangs to fall into her face. Brushing them out of the way, she frowns and then nods. "W-Well, kind of. I finished that one yesterday... this is the sequel," she explains.

"It must be pretty good if you want to read the next part already," you comment. "What's it about?"

As predicted, Yuri noticeably perks up. "Oh, I think you would really enjoy it, Y/N. It's about-"

"Y/N!"

You flinch at the stern voice of your shift supervisor, who apparently hadn't realized Yuri was speaking when he cut her off.

You glance back to see him gesturing at you in clear annoyance, motioning to the line of guests waiting for their drinks to be made. You nod, signaling you'll be right over.

Focusing back on Yuri, you're unable to mask your disappointment. "I'm sorry, I've gotta get back to work. I'm supposed to be off in a little bit though."

Yuri seems to also be discouraged, apologizing for keeping you, even though you're the one who had intentionally kept the talk going. She bites her lip, and then, probably overtaken by a brief moment of courage, suggests, "When you get off, maybe then I could tell you about the books?"

You're stunned, but at the same time, this was precisely what you'd been hoping for! "Yes, sure! That sounds great. I'll see you then!" You chirp, hurrying away.

The last of your shift passes by rather quickly, and when it comes time to clock out, you actually have to tell your supervisor no, you can't stay another extra hour even if they are busy, because you have plans! Normally you would have, but not today.

You meet Yuri at the door and the two of you leave the coffee shop together. The sun is close to setting, but not quite there yet. "Thank you again, Yuri! I like spending time with you, I've just been a little busy lately," you say.

Yuri mumbles something you can't quite hear, but then adds more clearly, "I-I'm glad..."

"So," you begin, clasping your hands behind you and beaming at her. "About those books!"

That's all it takes for Yuri to dive into an explanation of the main plot points as the two of you walk side by side towards your home.

You're more than a bit tired from work and standing on your feet for so long, but it's nice to have company on the walk back, especially someone like Yuri. You hum and comment every so often, honestly thinking that they did sound like the sort of books you would enjoy. Full of fantasy and mystery and thrills... and of course, romance.

"So, the main character ditches his friend, who's been with him the whole time, for the new girl? And she's from the enemy's group?" You surmise.

Yuri hesitates. "I don't want to spoil anything for you if you're wanting to read them for yourself..."

"Such a tease," you sigh, pretending to be betrayed. "Oh, we're here- this is my house."

The two of you stop at the gate leading to the front yard of your home, and you're positive you aren't imagining the plaintive expression on Yuri's face. You didn't really want your time together to end either, but alas, you both have classes tomorrow.

"If- If you really would like, you can borrow the first book from me," offers Yuri. "And then... you'll see for yourself how it all goes."

You nod enthusiastically. "Yes, please! Thank you, that's really sweet of you! We can discuss it too after I'm finished reading it. I think I already know who my favorite character is going to be, though."

Yuri tilts her head curiously. "Who would that be?"

"Nope! It's a secret, for now." You pause, glancing up at the darkening sky. "Will you be okay walking home by yourself?"

Her violet eyes soften at your concern. "Yes, I don't live very far from here."

You find yourself unsure of how to say goodbye to Yuri, an uncertain quiet settling over the two of you, but she doesn't seem to find it awkward. "Okay, if you're sure. Do you mind giving me your phone number, though?"

She starts in surprise, a dusting of pink covering her cheeks. "U-Uhm- I- you-?"

"So you can text me when you get home," you quickly defend your reasoning, feeling a bit shy yourself at Yuri's reaction. She really was unique- most people tried to play it cool when asking for or giving numbers.

"R-Right," she stammers, reciting it off for you, and her phone buzzes at the quick text message you sent her so she would have your number.

"I'll see you tomorrow then, at the Literature Club," you finally say, already looking forward to it. "And don't forget to bring the book, please!"

Yuri steps back, her gaze on the ground but you still see her smile to herself. "Yes, I will. Bye, Y/N." She seems like she has something else she wants to say, but then she gives herself a shake and quickly turns away, her long hair twirling to follow her.

You watch her go until you can't see her anymore, partly due to wanting to make sure she was safe.

You couldn't help but admire her for her intelligence and beauty, even if she seemed to admire your social skills in return. Hopefully this was the start of a very deep relationship with Yuri.

[alreadyblondenow]

I’ll never leave again

Yuta x reader // SMUT, ANGST, fluff? Summary: A Japanese transferee added color to your already colorful and perfect life and you both find true love as you help him with his battle against drugs.   Word Count: 7k Warnings: MAJOR DRUG USES, wearing, explicit mature themes, mentions of alcohol, blood, hospital, rehab, unprotected sex, mentions of other idols Note: IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE WHEN IT COMES TO DRUGS, PLEASE CLICK AWAY. THANK YOU. this fic is 100% came from my imagination, unlike my other works that are inspired from true events and personal experiences, this fic is 100% made up. 

Spaced out and really not in the mood to socialise, you were busy thinking how you’re going to break things off with your boyfriend Jaehyun. The perfect captain of the cheerleading squad and the handsome captain of the basketball team, together and being high school sweethearts is kind of getting old to you. And by getting old you mean you don’t love Jaehyun anymore. Not that he cheated on you or he treated you badly, no Jaehyun’s a great guy. It’s just that maybe he is not what your heart wants anymore.

It’s hard to explain something you cant even understand. You can’t actually pin point when did you start forcing yourself to see Jaehyun and why is this happening. “I can’t just stage a cheating scenario, that’s not me. I think Jaehyun deserves the truth” thats your response when Yeeun suggests to stage a cheating act where Jaehyun will see some random dude in your bed. “He will not buy it. Because he knew I can’t cheat” you added making Yeeun more frustrated.

To finish all your problems regarding breaking up with Jaehyun, you decided to just tell him the truth. He believed everything you said. “I felt it. Your kisses became different” Jaehyun said after you explained your part, you were glad that the breakup was mutual.

Now that you’re on your senior year, you wanted to focus on studying and trying new things. You gave up cheerleading and entrusting the squad to Yeeun. Giving up cheerleading was not a problem even though literally all of your friends are part of the squad, but they understand you. You’re just following your heart. Cheerleading is soon replaced by art, your second passion next to dancing and you couldn’t be more happier.

Everything was going smooth, having good grades, self love, and more art. Although, people in school still see you as this popular cheerleader who used to be with the school star player, you’re having a hard time making new friends. Until you met Nakamoto Yuta. A Japanese transferee who’s always quiet, private and scary because he had a lot of piercings. Not to you of course, you never see him that way. You met at the football field while you were having a quick sketch of the sunset with all your coloring materials just after a long day at school. “You should try using soft pastels, they’re more easier to blend” he said peaking from the back bleacher, you turned around to check who it is.

“I’m Yuta by the way, we have the same art class” he’s a little shy and awkward, but nice enough to introduce himself first. You knew you go to the same art class, actually he is quite an artist. He can be top of the class if only he submits his works.

“Hi, I’m y/n” you smiled at him offering a hand shake but you realised your hand is dirty because of the oil pastel. “We can fist bump instead” you suggest and he let out a small laugh. He looks beautiful under the perfect orange light from the sunset, his skin is unbelievably white and flawless, he looks unreal and you can’t stop staring.

“So...” he snapped out of you, “it’s nice to me you y/n. I hope you take my advice” you nod and waved goodbye as he leaves you alone with your drawing session. Your heart is beating so fast and you don’t know why but one things for sure, you find Yuta attractive. Really attractive.

The next day, you made sure to buy soft pastels and it did made your life easier. You wanted to thanked him but he didn’t come to school for two days. It really is useful to you, it made you work faster and easier, you couldn’t stop drawing and filling your sketchbook with colors.

After three days, he made his appearance again in school and he looked like shit. Maybe he got sick? That’s why he haven’t been showing up. Whatever the reason is, it made you shy to talk to him and tell him all about the things you already create with colors that he recommended. But destiny was being a little too friendly, he caught you again sketching your heart out at the bleachers.

“You work fast” he came out of nowhere again.

“Yes! Actually I’ve been meaning to talk to you, but you seem not well I couldn’t bother you” he smiled at you like there’s nothing wrong, “If you want, I could show you some of mine, a- at home if you want” you noticed he’s being friendly and who are you to refuse.

Yuta brought you to his house, just five streets from your home. Turns out Yuta is rich... and alone, he lives with his Japanese butler, Ruka. “My family is in Japan if you’re wondering” he tells more information about him while you two walk upstairs to his room. The house is simple but it was too spacious, it feels lonely and cold but you kept that thought to yourself. Good thing Yuta’s room is full of colors, different kind of masterpiece are put up on his wall, lots and lots of drawing and coloring materials neatly stacked on his working table, and a beautiful view of the town from his window.

“Uhm, if you need something from my stuff I’ll gladly give it to you” still amazed by what you’re seeing right now, all you want to do is look at all of his works. “Wow - that’s uhm, too much but I’m happy you can introduce me to a lot of art materials” you can’t hide your excitement, everything in his desks looks new to your eyes and you can’t help but ask questions about different materials. ‘What’s this for?’ ‘How do you use this?’

Not to mention you’ve been praising his works for almost half an hour already. He’s happy that you find him as a great artist and that you’re willing to be friends with him, seeing you in his room gives him hope. Ruka knocked at Yuta’s door and invited you to have dinner with them, you didn’t notice it’s already dark and you definitely need to go home already. But you didn’t want to leave Yuta yet, “Sure. I’d love to”

Even the smell of their freshly cooked dinner is new to you, since their both Japanese they only eat Japanese food everyday. “I hope you like Japanese food, I asked him to order takeout but Ruka insists. Told me you should try his cooking” he whispers beside you while Ruka is busy preparing the table. “It’s fine, I don’t get to eat Japanese food always so I don’t mind” you smiled to Yuta, taking away his worries.

The food was delicious, and the dinner table was full of laughter and stories from Ruka. They were both exchanging stories, telling you too much information you don’t need to know, but they tell you anyway. You found out that Yuta plays soccer and he’s a really good player, he’s an impulsive buyer when it comes to his art materials and your favorite information for the night, Yuta has seventeen piercings. The three of you laughed and laughed the whole dinner time while enjoying the delicious Udon and a lot of deep fried seafood.

Later that night Yuta walked you home and endlessly thanked you for spending time with him. “Everything that happened today is so random, but I could get used to this” you said, secretly hoping you could spend some more time with him. “This is my house. I would normally invite you to come in, but its pretty late - which reminds me” your voice and your hands were shaking, pretty sure you’re blushing too. “We have this thing every Friday. Me and my family- uhh, just meet me here at 7?” How brave of you to ask.

If Yuta could only shout and scream from happiness he would, instead he just gave you a nod and a sweet smile before he waved goodbye to you. “See you tomorrow” he shouts before you get inside.

There’s no way of hiding it, you have a crush on Yuta. And you cant ruin this wonderful friendship by being obvious, you told yourself. The next day you made an effort to look cute, “so much for not being obvious” you talk to yourself through the mirror. As you get on with your day, you can’t stop thinking how Yuta is a complete charmer and a really nice guy. Gentleman enough to walk you home in the middle of the night and smiling so sweetly before he leaves.

Yuta on the other hand, has been asking about you to his friends. It’s either they tell him that you’re smart, pretty and popular or they tell him that you are the former captain of the squad. No one told him the things that he single handedly found out about you. In Yuta’s eyes you’re this simple girl that has her life all planned out already. He understood the whole popularity thing because whats not to love about you?

Hiding his excitement, he was pretty early but you told him it’s perfectly fine. Your family adored Yuta, they were all talking nonstop the whole night asking questions about Japan. Which made you worry actually, what if Yuta was hurting and he misses his family or miss Japan in general. Yuta seemed to enjoy everyone’s company, at least that’s what you think and you could only hope that he’s not faking it.

“Sorry, this is the least I can do. The dinner last night was so great, I wanted to invite you over” you brought him to your room so you could have some privacy. Which is not normal. The last guy you brought to your room was Jaehyun, and that happened two years ago.

He was busy looking around your room with an amused smile, looking at the pictures taken from crazy parties, cheerleading competitions, and basically every important event of your life. Yuta let out a small laugh when he saw your cheerleading uniform framed and hanged on your wall.

“What’s so funny about it?” you giggle while you both look at the framed uniform.

“I’ve never seen something like this before, I guess I’m amazed” to be honest he really is amazed that your uniform became something like a trophy that you display around your room. “I bet you look good wearing it” he was smiling while looking at you when he said that. Suddenly the room became hot.  

“You should smile more often, your smile is nice” to divert the attention, of course you praised him again.

“If you think my smile is beautiful, you should’ve seen yours” there’s no getting away with that so you just accepted it.

On the following days, you’ve been spending more time with Yuta talking, drawing and getting to know each other more. And the more you spend time with him, your feelings grow and grow. In a matter of weeks, you’re sure you’ve completely fallen in love with him.

He became your friend, in fact your only friend since you left cheerleading. Every friend of yours is either a cheerleader or jock, given that they’re all athletes, they don’t have time for you anymore. That’s why you think Yuta is a life saver.

Not long ago, you discovered about Yuta’s drug addiction. Weed, Meth, Heroin, all kinds. Maybe that’s why sometimes he’s so spaced out and he miss school a lot. “Yuta’s parents sent him here because of his drug addiction, only he can help himself” Ruka explained to you over coffee while Yuta is out doing whatever he’s doing. Even though he has problems, you still stick with him. He’s still a nice guy who loves his art, the same nice guy your family adored. With or without drugs.

One night, you were playing Jenga with him on his bedroom floor with a few bottle of beers and snacks on the side. “I’m going to win, I’m good at this” he totally loves teasing you whenever you two get competitive with each other. “You wish. Okay my turn” you said after drinking your beer in one down, but the Jenga tower fell off and Yuta laughed so hard he has tears on his eyes. He saw your face completely pissed off as you open another beer and building the tower again for another game.

“Who’s Jaehyun?” you were surprised at his question, something a student from your school wouldn’t dare ask because the whole school knows him.

“Oh right, you’re a transferee” he sat up and sat closer to you, legs crossed and both arms are supporting him on the floor “Uhm. He’s my ex. We’ve been together for two years? I think. And then I broke with him, over the summer because I don’t love him anymore - the breakup was mutual, if you’re wondering” He nods, and ready to ask you another question.

“Do you like someone now?” he reached for your hand which made you stop building the tower and intertwined it with his. You wonder why he’s suddenly so bold and confident. You nod, completely speechless.

“Is it me?” Yuta bravely asks, and you nod without hesitation.

He reached for your lips and kissed you gently, cupping your face as his thumb swipes on your cheeks admiring your beauty. Time stopped the moment you touch lips and you feel the happiness in your stomach balls up, ready to explode.

“This is probably wrong”

And suddenly that happiness you felt was replaced by confusion. He pull away from your touch leaving you so confused and still in shock. “What’s so wrong about this?” you asked him while getting him to look you in the eyes, tugging his arm so he wont’s get too far.

“I’m a drug addict y/n. You can’t be with someone like me. Cliché as it sounds but, I’m scared to ruin your life. You’re this perfect person who I happen to meet at football field and you’re just nice enough to welcome me in your life”

He looks frustrated and confused as you are but you knew damn well that meeting him is something you don’t regret. “You don’t get to push me away just because you decided to be honest with your feelings and somehow decided to be a coward afterwards” it wasn’t easy to stay calm but you tried so hard, your grip on his hand was becoming tighter and he noticed it. “I like you! And you make me happy. You’re the one who put color in my life, well literally and figuratively. But my point is, don’t throw us away” you decided to be brave and kissed him again. This time, hungrier and full of need. You sat on his lap and pushed him down slowly all the way to the floor. Hands all over each other, switching positions and rolling on the floor without stopping the kiss.

It was not a surprise for everyone when you went public, they already foresee what’s going on between you two. Your family still adored Yuta just like how they adored him from the first time they met him. The whole popularity problem in school completely changed in a good way because of Yuta. More people from school are talking to you now, they’re not scared or shy to be friends with you anymore because Yuta somehow changed everyone’s perspective. With Yuta you’re this normal person who’s happy to be with his boyfriend.

Happy days are nothing but pure laughter and great memories with Yuta. Movie night with Yuta and Ruka with a bunch of Japanese treats on the side is your new Friday night schedule. And inviting Yuta and Ruka for family dinner during special occasions has been a thing that made Yuta happy. He told you he’s a sucker for spending time with family but his family is in Japan and he can’t go home until he’s clean. That was the night you decided that you will never leave Yuta’s side.  

Yuta is this bright color that made your life even more colorful. He is this man, full of surprises and definitely no dull moment. You learned how to take care of him in your own ways without making him feel sorry for himself. Vulnerable, important and ordinary, that’s what he made you feel. And by ordinary, you mean no social pressure from the people around you. Just two normal people who fell in love in a normal way. Sometimes, situations can be a handful but it was never a problem for the both of you. Yes he has drug issues but for you, Yuta deserves to be loved. And no one can stop you from loving him.

Your love for each other grew and grew until you reach being intimate with each other.

It was raining hard and the wind was strong, you decided to stay over at Yuta’s house. Already washed up and fresh, you wait for your boyfriend in his bed as he turned off the lights in his room and replaced it with scented candles.

“You look comfortable there” he giggle as he crawls in bed and sat beside you leaning on his headboard. It’s chilly and cold in Yuta’s room, you cant help but be closer to him. Closer as possible.

“You like that?” You hum and nod with eyes closed to answer him. Surprisingly, he kissed you and your eyes opened only to see Yuta’s handsome face close to yours. The kiss was slow and you were both taking time savouring this quiet memory. It went on like that for some time, until the kiss became wet and needy. He hungrily kissed you bitting and licking your lips. Hands creeping just under your shirt, all the way to your clothed boobs and skilfully unclasps your bra. Gently kneading your right boob and doing a circular motion on your nipple.  

“We’ve never gone this far” you said as you catch your breath, and went back to kissing him a little bit slowly this time.

“Do you think its time?” He managed to ask you in between those soft kisses, giving you sweet pecks. You nod excitedly. “Sit between my legs” you followed what he told you, completely clueless on what he’s going to do next.

“Spread your legs wide” it suddenly became hotter as you spread your legs nervously. Your head is resting on his shoulder, back against his chest, heart beating so fast as you wait for his next move. “Yuta, can you kiss me?” your voice cracked but he just smiled, and shook his head. “Not until you remove your shorts and panties” and so you did. Hurriedly removing your thin shorts and laced panties, throwing them on the floor.

The moment his finger had contact with your wet slit you gasp and grabbed his shoulder gripping it tightly as you moan. You feel like this is new to you but it isn’t, of course you’re not a virgin anymore and Jaehyun did a fair share on that. “Yuta- Ah! Baby I’m almost there” with heavy breaths and sharp gasps, you warn him and at the same time stopping yourself from cumming too early.

“Wider” he said so calmly, you followed spreading your legs wider. Fingers drilling a little harder than before and you finally let go. Shivering and catching your breath, eyelids already heavy. He licks your parted mouth as you enjoy your high, filthy but fucking hot. His breath smells like mint.

“You seem so calm the whole time you were finger fucking me” with all the energy left in your body, you went back to laying on his side.

“Yeah well my cock isn’t” he kissed you on the forehead and tells you, “i love you, you sound beautiful the whole time. I was busy listening to you”

You have something on your mind right now that you’re somehow scared to ask because he might refuse, “I have a question” you sat up and sat on his lap. Your legs and pussy are still exposed, and you’re making Yuta’s cock even more hard. “Why did you not ever asked me to have sex with you?”

“Well will you have sex with me baby?” Just like that, straightforward and calm like the Yuta you know. You were both giggling like little kids for some time while waiting for your answer. It’s not that you don’t want to but you were just shy to say your answer out loud.

“You’re shy, aren’t you?” of course he knew you’re being shy. He’s your boyfriend who happens to know everything about you. “Well, I’m horny” he sat up to reach your lips, kissing you gently but enough to prove that he is horny. Slowly his kisses went to your neck, making you moan softly. But you pull away not telling him anything. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking right. Please don’t be mad-“

To his surprise, you removed your shirt and your unclasped bra. Now you’re fully naked on top of your boyfriend, “It’s not fair that I’m the only ones naked here, baby” you grab the end of his shirt and helped him to removed it. “You scared me” he managed to tell you in between hungry kisses, “you’re so in trouble” he added and pushed you on the mattress.

Laughing like a little girl, while Yuta is busy kissing your naked body beneath him. Your head is dangling on the edge of the bed seeing his room upside down. His cock is poking your thigh the moment he’s on top of you naked, and you’re positive that it made you nervous. “Baby, I think your cock wont fit me” your boyfriend was amused by what you just said, “It will” is the only response he said before licking your nipples and sucking them gently. He grabbed your right leg putting it on his shoulder and kneeled in between your legs, lining his cock in your entrance.

Slowly he pushed his cock inside you making you bite your hand and close your eyes to stop yourself from moaning too loud. “See? it fits” Yuta is doing the opposite, he’s groaning with every thrust he give you letting out sounds you didn’t know he can make. Whimpering like a little boy beside your neck, you can hear him clearly. As his pace goes faster you were losing your mind at how good he fucks you for the first time.

“Don’t fucking stop” with heavy breath and gasp, you reached for his neck and encircled your arms around him. Legs spreading wider for him, moans becoming a little bit louder. The bed is shaking you’re sure Ruka can hear you both.

“Y/n, if you don’t stop moaning like that- I swear” his thrust became quicker and sharper leaving you speechless. Your pussy clenched the whole time trying to fight the sensation and trying so hard not to be on edge yet. But it’s a battle you can’t win, Yuta is so good at making you let go. You didn’t say that you were cumming but he can tell because your legs were already shaking and you were grabbing everything you can on bed and gripping it a little too hard. He pulls out and pumped his cock in front of you making his cum land perfectly on your boobs. Just the sight of his cum on your beautiful body, makes him hard again.

You grabbed him with both hands through the neck, and pull him on your chest kissing him a little too harsh. Filthy as it looks but you don’t care. You spread your legs again and put a hand in between the two of you and grabbed his hard cock. Pushing it inside you again, he let you do what you want. In a matter of seconds, he’s inside you again.

“I was disappointed, you didn’t cum inside me” you pout and he thrust again without a single word making your head roll back again, smiling like a fool because you got want you want. Yuta fucked you again, but this time rougher and he get to cum inside you.  

“Sorry if I didn’t cum inside you earlier” he kissed your forehead while you calm down from your orgasm. You still can’t talk and you’re still catching your breath, all you can do is smile as you wait for your legs to stop shaking.

And that was the start of having sex with Yuta with every chance you get. Making out in your room that leads to sex before doing homework. Watching the sunset through his window still naked and all over each other. Sex was different with Yuta, it was damn wild and filthy but full of love. Something you never felt before.

Whenever you’re busy working on something in the art room and Yuta needed to fetch you there, you make out with him for some time because he missed you already. Even though anyone can just enter and catch you two, he never cared.

If you’re not allowed to go out on a Friday night, he will sneak up to your room through your open window while you were sleeping and kiss you quietly until you wake up. You love having quiet sex with Yuta in your room because its funny how you two try to stop moaning too loud. On top of that, he needed to stop himself from fucking you too hard and remind him to go slow from time to time.  

Your fear of giving him a blowjob because you’re not that confident with it completely changed when one day you were just so hungry for his cock and you went down on your knees and gave him a blowjob for the first time. That’s during lunch and you brought him to the locker room where you and Jaehyun used to make out before practice. To your surprise Yuta came three times in your mouth, for some reason he loved it. From there on he always ask you for a blowjob and you always gladly give him what he wants.

If there are days with him that are nothing but pure happiness, of course there are days that are almost impossible to bare. All you can do is be strong and keep your patience long, remind yourself that you love Yuta no matter what happens. You really don’t know where it all started, or what triggered him to go back on drugs but you noticed he’s been busy and he’s not telling you the whole truth whenever you ask him ‘what’s up?’

After spending six beautiful months together, suddenly Yuta is gone again for days. He’s been missing a lot again and that can only mean he’s out somewhere taking drugs or he’s taking drugs and he’s in trouble. When you came to his house, Ruka was stopping you from entering the house but you insist.

“What is it Ruka?” you know he’s hiding something from you and Yuta is inside. So you shout from the outside, forcing Yuta to come out. He did. Limping and face all beat up. You’re not mad or disappointed, you were simply worried about him. “He got home this morning, and he’s still high from drugs. I don’t think this is a great time y/n.”

You look at each other’s eyes from a far, both hurt but yours is not physical. Broken heart, that’s what pains you. It’s hard to step away from his house, looking in his eyes full of hurt. Deep down you know he wanted to hug your kiss but he can’t because he can’t fucking move and he’s too humiliated.

What you saw today was too much and you needed a breather. It’s good that its Friday, you can be with your friends and somehow divert your mind. “People can get beaten up with a lot of reasons specially when drugs is involved” Johnny says while drinking his beer and playing beer pong with the others. “Don’t think about it too much, he’s going to be okay” Yeeun shouts from another side of the table. All of your friends were supportive with the relationship you have with Yuta even though they know about his drug problems. You spent days being with your friends while Yuta is recovering and there’s not a day where you don’t check up on him.

A week passed already and theres still no sign of Yuta. You can’t just show up in front of his house again, you didn’t want to disturb his recovery. Besides, school works are pilling up you need to focus studying and finishing some of the requirements. Your mind is buried into Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet and you didn’t notice you passed out. When you woke up, you found Yuta beside you all snuggled up and waiting for you to open your eyes.

“Am I dreaming?” you closed your eyes and opened them again, no you’re not dreaming. He smile a little, you figure he’s still in pain. “Are you alright now? How did you get in?” you sat up to check his face and his arm. “I’m alright, I just needed to see you. I can’t take it anymore. I missed you so much” he reached for your hands and kissed your knuckles. He pats the mattress telling you to come lay with him in bed, and you did. Fingers intertwined and bodies close to each other, just how you like it.

“Why do you stay with me? You’re this perfect girl that fell in love with an addict”

For some reason you were scared of how he asked you that question. It almost felt like he’s going to leave you. There was a minute of complete silence before you answer him, “Because thats what you do if u love someone. You don’t give up on them. And just so you know I love you, and Im in love with you”

He chuckled but still careful not to overdo it because of the bruises in his face, “I know. I know that all too well” he placed his hand just above your jaw, and left a kiss on your forehead. “I’m trying to be better for you so I wont have to leave you eventually and go to fucking rehab. I can do this right?” hearing Yuta say that made you realise you were wrong about him wanting to leave you. He doesn’t want to leave, he wanted to be better for you. You kissed him on the lips pouring everything from the past couple of weeks in it. The kiss was wet but it wasn’t because of spit, but because of tears.  

After what happened, he tried being clean but he just ends up taking drugs over and over again. There was a time that you caught him taking cocaine in his bathroom and he shut the door with a loud slam and told you to go home. Seeing him do things like that pains you to the core. He never wanted to hurt you like this, he never pushed you away because deep down he wanted to be better and if that happens he wants you to be on his side.

A week before prom, Yuta made sure he’s clean and he promised you he will never ruin prom night for you. As a way of celebrating for being fourteen days clean and spending time with each other, you had sex after a wonderful night spent with Yuta.

“Fuck I missed being inside you” he whispers behind your ear while his fucking you with a steady pace. As always, the way he fucks you can make you lose your mind and smile like a fool while moaning and gasping at the same time. You closed your eyes as you let go of the feeling and cum for the first time tonight, the moment you open your eyes you see Yuta’s eyes closed completely blown by the frenzy on being on edge. And bleeding.

His nose is bleeding uncontrollably.

“Baby- you need to stop” opening his eyes to ask if he hurt you, he saw the blood on your boobs, completely panicking. “Did I do this to you baby- where does it hurt?” you were crying already, not talking to him as you quickly wore your clothes and screamed for help, calling Ruka as loud as you can.

Yuta was completely clueless but his head was spinning and he feels so weak suddenly. “Baby! Don’t close your eyes, you can die-  please stay with me” you were practically slapping his face to keep him awake as you help him wear his pants.

Everything happened so fast the moment you see his nose bleeding nonstop. You and Ruka rushed him to the hospital as quickly as you can. You were alone at the waiting lounge as Ruka takes care of everything Yuta needs to stay in the hospital.

All of your friends weren’t picking up because maybe they’re sleeping and tired from practice. But one person picked up and made his way to the hospital and brought you some clothes as soon as he can.

“I’m sorry Jaehyun, I didn’t know anyone else to call. I cant just simply call my family” Jaehyun was holding you close and comforting you as you cry for a whole hour. After changing to clean clothes, Ruka called you in to talk to Yuta. While Jaehyun is hesitating to come with you,  “Jae, come on its okay. He’ll be happy to see you”  

You were happy to see Yuta completely awake and smiling once you opened the door and entered the room with Jaehyun. You sat beside Yuta and kissed him on the forehead, “the sex was so good, you made me bleed” he joked around making all three of you laugh and you tear up again. “What’s happening to you?” you weren’t sure you wanted to know but you do know it’s nothing good.

“I’m fine baby, no need to worry” of course he will not tell you what’s going on because he didn’t want to make you worry. “Thank you Jaehyun. For being with her” Jaehyun nods at him and pats Yuta’s arm.

Suddenly your excitement for prom is replaced with worries for Yuta’s health. He needs to stay in the hospital for a week, and that covers prom. “We’re still on for prom right?” you were laying with him on the hospital bed as he shower you with kisses. If there’s anything he hates more than anything, that is making you disappointed. “Of course” you kissed him back, making him blush. “Can’t wait to see you crowed, Prom Queen” even though that’s not important to you anymore, you just nod and rolled your eyes on him.

He did got out from the hospital a day before prom, leaving him with only a day to rest. Ruka got him a nice tux that fits him really well, and you on the other hand tried to forget things that happened last week that completely ruined your prom excitement.

After working so hard on your hair and makeup, you finished getting ready just in time for your friends to pick you up. But Yuta is not yet here, when he’s supposed to be here already an hour before your friends arrived. “I think you guys should go, I’ll wait for him a little longer. I’ll see you there, okay?” you wave goodbye to your friends as you wait for Yuta on your porch.

You called Ruka to ask about Yuta, hoping maybe he just got problems with his tux. “Hey, Ruka uhm, is Yuta still there?” his answer broke your heart. The excitement was replaced with worries again, you called Yuta’s phone a hundred times but he never picks up.

A car parked in front of your house, hoping it’s Yuta. But it’s not, it’s Jaehyun. He drove to your house because he was worried, “What’s happening?” he worriedly asked. You were still trying to call Yuta’s phone, still no answer.

“Come one y/n, I’ll take you to prom” Jaehyun offered, but as much as you wanted to accept his offer Yuta’s excitement from the other day, flashed in your mind and you know you can’t go.

“I can’t Jae, thank you and I know you mean nothing but kindness. I’ll wait for Yuta here, he will get hurt if I go without him” Jaehyun didn’t really want to leave you but you made your choice.

The moment Jaehyun left, your tears finally fall. You were crying when your mom gave you a blanket and invited you to go wait for him inside. “I’m fine, thanks for the blanket” you were so hurt to even move. And you’re not hurt because he ditched you to prom, you’re hurt because you can’t reach him and you’re worried for him. A lot of things may have happened to him and that’s what worries you.

A week later, Ruka met you after school and told you that Yuta is finishing high school through home study under your school’s supervision. “He’s still part of the school, I’ll convince him to attend graduation. But,” something bad is about to happen, you thought.  “he wanted me tell you that, he’s breaking up with you” and that’s it. You burst into tears after hearing the bad news. It was so hard to breath, hearing those words from Ruka and not directly from Yuta. But you trust Yuta’s decision and maybe it’s for the best. With a heavy heart, you hugged Ruka goodbye and left without another word.

You tried putting up a big smile during graduation and hugging everyone you knew all throughout high school, except for one important person. A week after graduation, you left for college. Still with a heavy heart but you wanted to move on and have a fresh start.  

Ten years later

It’s impossible to forget your first love specially if that someone made an impact to your life. You’re sitting on the very spot where you met Yuta remembering how you were charmed by his smile. Mouthing the exact same words he told you before introducing himself first, ‘You should try using soft pastels, they’re more easier to blend’ smiling after you realised you’re completely a fool for still dwelling from the past.

You shrug it of and decided to go back to your high school reunion, maybe people are already looking for you. You stood up from the bleacher, “hi” and you almost fell from where you were standing and the person in front of you is to blame.

“I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m sorry” you told the man that it’s okay and you should get going, not even bothering to look who he might be. It’s weird that the man isn’t letting go of your hand, “Excuse me. I need my hand-“ your heart beats fast like the moment you first saw him. Nothings changed that’s for sure, except his hair color.

“Yuta” your eyes were full of tears but you were smiling the whole time. He pulled you in for a tight hug, holding you close like how he used to. It feels like a dream, you thought. A dream that you never want to end. Catching up with lost time, you spend the night with him forgetting about the high school reunion and watching over the same blue sky you used to look at years and years ago from his room.

He’s now an owner of a popular art gallery in Japan, which you happened to know about. “No way! You own that place, I went there just last year for work” he nods, and told you he knew. And he can’t believe you’re standing inside his art gallery. “I got scared. That’s why I didn’t talked to you” then you remember, on that day you were supposed to meet the owner of the gallery, “That’s why we talked to your secretary instead of the owner… which is you” he was nodding the whole time like a fool. It’s fun laughing the whole night not minding the time, he’s the same man you fell in love with.

“We missed prom because I was busy getting high” he suddenly blurted out when the both of you was silent.

“I went to your house I saw you waiting for me outside, crying because I ditched you” he’s wrong, you were crying that time because you were worried sick. But you saved your explanation for later, for now you just wanted him to explain his part.

“And I know I’m ten years late but, you look beautiful in that red lipstick. And oh! That dress on you, Mmm! I was admiring you from a far, and you were perfect” there he is again, making you laugh “and me I was high that time and I couldn’t ruin your night even more. I cant ruin your life even more” he reached for your hand and kissed it like he used to.

“That was my breaking point. After I finished the home study program, I begged my mom to put me in rehab, I want to be better for you. As always y/n. But as I got better I figured maybe you forgot about me already so I focused on getting better for myself. Went to college, had a job and now this. All better. Never want to go back” he left you speechless again, but he deserves to know the truth.

“Im sorry Yuta, I didn’t know. But for the record I was crying because I just wanted to see you that time. It doesn’t matter if you were high as a kite. I couldn’t care less about prom. I was waiting for you until the sun goes up and you never showed up. I was blaming myself maybe, I didn’t loved you enough thats why you left”

“No no, don’t say that. You were more than enough” tears never stopped falling from your eyes and Yuta hated seeing you cry. So he kissed you on the lips for the first time again for so many years. You rest your forehead on his, taking time to process everything that’s happening right now. Completely aware of what’s running in your mind right now he suggests to take things slow before coming back to each other’s lives again.

“Take all the time you need. I’m sorry. I swear I’ll never leave again”

................................................. Masterlist

Thank you for reading if you get up to this point hihi. Million thanks to every reader like you. 

I had a hard time finishing this fic because the word count is originally, 9k+ and I’m not sure if my readers are up for that long fic... because I usually post fics that are 6k max long. But I guess it is what it is. 

Hope someone enjoyed this fic huhu 

[luvlyrv]

The Fleeting Image of You | Wendy x Fem!Reader

Genre: angst and fluff

Summary: Your world was falling apart at the seams, until a mysterious girl fell into your life. Then, you began to fall for her.

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: First time I’ve written something with the intention of making you cry. Please tell me if you cried, or if it at least made you sad. That’d be pretty epic. Is it mean of me to say that?

Also, I apologize for taking so long to upload something... I’ve been flooded with work lately and school is just getting way more stressful now :/ I have some stuff lined up for ‘Naughty’ and ‘Our Songs’ btw! Just have to finish.

Date: 2/2/21

You sigh as you sit down in your favorite corner of the library. You set your stuff down, making it known that you'd taken the seat, and stood back up to begin scouring for something new to read.

Spending your time in the quiet and tranquil local library had become a new favorite past-time of yours. It was strange, you thought, how lonely you felt recently. You couldn't help but find yourself disconnected from the majority of the world, a cloud of sadness following you everywhere. No matter how much you tried it felt like you couldn't bother to reach out. Yet, when it came to the library the loneliness exhibited here was not something awful, but rather something chased after. Something you can find comfort in.

You stop in front of a shelf as you reach out for a book with a maroon cover. It seemed to be on the older side. You gently grazed the spine of the book, enjoying the rougher texture it had. You pull it out of the shelf, only to be surprised that it had no writing on either side of the book. Perhaps the title and author would be written in the first page.

You open up the book to look inside. Instead of any text, the first page was a beautiful ink illustration. It seemed to be a design of a mirror. You trace the image and upon closer inspection, it didn't look printed on. It was as if someone drew it in the pages by their self. Maybe someone left their sketchbook here? Or perhaps this was just a strange, unlabeled picture book?

Intrigued by the illustration, you go back to your seat to sit down and flip through the other pages. After the mirror, there was an image of a girl, and after that an image of another girl. You smile a bit, finding the images cute. Especially the one of the second girl, who seemed to share the same hair length and style as you. While in the middle of admiring the art in front of you, you felt a presence. You turn your head up, only for the sight to make your breath hitch as a beautiful woman stood beside you. The stranger was also seemingly enchanted by the book in your hands.

"H-hi" You say softly, mesmerized by how soft her brown hair looked as it cascaded around her face. Her eyes that were scanning the book moved to look into yours. You felt your mouth dry up.

"Hey, I was just wondering if it was okay for me to sit at this table next to you?" The voice that left her mouth was laced with a friendly confidence. You quickly looked around the rest of the library, noticing the overwhelming amount of empty tables. You decide to not question it though, because why would you deny the company of someone like her?

"Sure." You nod as you answer, she flashes you a smile and sits across from you. She tugs at the bookbag she has around her body to open it, pulling out a thick book. You look back at your own book, but you can't seem to focus anymore. You flip the page to try and look busy, but you don't really pay attention to what's on the paper anymore. Your eyes glance back and forth from your book to the woman, who's now peacefully reading.

It takes time for the courage inside of you to build up, and you're afraid of disturbing her, but you felt like you had to say something.

"So… " You begin speaking. The stranger's head perks up as she gives you her attention. "What's your name?"

"Oh I'm sorry!" She laughs a little bit, the noise is akin to a sweet melodic bell. "I never introduced myself. You can call me Seungwan, and you?" You notice that Seungwan slips a bookmark into her book and gently closes her book. It seems like she's giving you her full attention, a feeling you haven't felt in a while. You smile before you talk.

"I'm Y/N, nice to meet you. What brings you here today?" You start playing with your hands underneath the table as the nerves begin to truly settle in.

And that's how it all started.

*

*

For the past couple of weeks your mood had been brightening significantly. Before, it was hard to get out of bed for the day to attend your classes. It was hard to even pick up your phone and reply to the very few messages you got. Most of them being from Yeri, the only person you'd consider a real-friend who occasionally checked in on you. Yet lately you found yourself hopping out of bed, excited with the prospect of wrapping up your day quickly to head to the library as soon as possible.

You now officially considered the library to be your second home. Instead of working at your desk you could work in the quiet library, surrounded by the smell of books and coffee and most importantly, Seungwan. As the two of you grew more familiar with each other Seungwan seemed to have a paradoxical effect on you.

The way her eyes stared into yours, all her little mannerisms, they would make you struggle to continue speaking coherently. At the same time though, her sitting across from you, quietly humming, made you feel at peace.

You wouldn't mind spending everyday like this, an evening filled with library-talk with Seungwan. It wouldn't hurt to switch it up a little though. So, when Seungwan finally came over to your little nook in the library, you excitedly jumped from your seat.

"Seungwan! How about we go do something fun?" You haven't even put your things down, expecting her to say yes. Instead she decided to tease you a bit first.

"Oh, is this not fun enough for you?" She plasters on an exaggeratedly hurt face and you punch her arm softly.

"You know I don't mean it like that. How about we go somewhere else for once?" You lean closer to her and tug on the sleeve of her cardigan to beg, and she quickly sighs in defeat.

"Let's go to a karaoke place then." She casually suggests. Meanwhile you start to panic, because god what if you embarrassed yourself in front of her?

"Well, uhm! I'm not too sure about that, how about we-"

"You're the one who's begging me to go out, so I'm picking where!" There's a playful tone in her voice as she immediately turns away from you, heading outside the library. You quickly follow her and decide not to worry too much about your singing skills.

When you arrive to the karaoke place and are ushered into your own room with Seungwan, you start to get nervous. She doesn't fail to notice the way your wiped your hands on your thighs as she hands you a microphone.

"Are you nervous?" She asks as she grabs a microphone for herself. She steps over towards you and sits down on the plush couch next to you.

"No. Maybe. Just a little." There's a pause before you admit your true feelings. "Yes, a lot." The both of you laugh at your comment before Seungwan gives you a friendly nudge.

"I won't judge! I promise you, just don't worry about it and we'll have fun tonight." She stands up and selects the first song for the evening.

If you didn't say that what you heard was angelic, you would be the world's biggest liar. You couldn't help but feel like the luckiest person in the world. It was as if an angel held a private concert just for you. Or perhaps, if sirens were real, this would be what they sounded like. Regardless of what you can compare it to, it was a special sound you wanted to treasure forever.

"I'm not sure how I could top that." You laugh after she finishes. She shakes her head before talking to you.

"Who said anything about being on top? Just have fun!" Then she drags you to go over and choose a song to sing.

You're nervous, you really are, but you decide to trust in Seungwan's words and give an honest performance. You pushed away your worries as you tried to enjoy yourself. By the end of the night, her promise came true. The many duets and solos you guys shared strained your throat, but it was a pain that was worth it.

Before the time in your room ran out Seungwan decided on singing one last song. You gave her some cheers as the song started playing, giving her some not needed (but hopefully appreciated) encouragement. After several seconds she finally started singing. Once again you found yourself feeling like you were on cloud nine solely from her voice.

It took a while for you to snap out in the trance-like state you entered, but once you did you truly appreciated the lyrics that your friend was singing.

"Do you think of me when you open your eyes in the morning? So you think of me when you see something nice? Do you laugh alone out of the blue like I do?"

It's a slow song, a soft song, a song filled with love and affection. It felt like her voice was built for something like this. As you listen to the lyrics heat begins to spread on your face. It felt like recently you've been asking the same questions to yourself about a certain person.

"Tell me is this the first time? Have you fallen for me as much as I have fallen for you?"

Maybe it was the intense desire in your heart that was playing tricks on your eyes, but it seemed like Seungwan's eyes kept looking between you and the screen more than usual. That there was a flicker of something within her welcoming brown eyes. Your heart is pounding too fast now. It threatened to beat out of your chest as your heartbeat filled your ears, becoming louder than the music itself.

"I want to know everything, if my heart has grown deeper than yours like a fool."

Certainly those lingering glances meant nothing. You ignore your feelings as you try to calm yourself down. When the song ended your time at the karaoke room was over. You complimented Seungwan before thanking her for her time. After promising each other to go out for karaoke another time, the two of you went your separate ways home satisfied with the fun night out.

When you got home, you pulled out a familiar maroon book before laying on your bed. You never properly checked it out. Mostly because it didn't even seem like a library book, judging by the fact that it had no stamps nor barcodes. You assumed that not many people were picking it up anyways, and so once you had your time with the book you'd carefully place it back where you found it.

It was odd that you wanted to keep the book so much, but that was due to how strangely comforting it was. Every once in a while you would pull it out again, only to admire it and its wordless contents. Besides the first few pages, every illustration had two girls together. Maybe those two girls were just friends, but in your mind you liked to imagine them as lovers. Your favorite illustration of it all was one towards the end. On the final pages there were illustrations of a night sky speckled with stars, the girls looking out to the sea.

You sigh before putting the book down and turning off the light. Closing your eyes you wonder, is that something you'd like to experience?

*

*

It's been a couple months now. You've spent a considerable amount of time hanging out with Seungwan, as well as a considerable amount of time gushing about her to Yeri. You never explicitly said you liked her, but you certainly didn't hold back on telling your friend every trait you admired about Seungwan.

These days, you and Seungwan would meet up in the library and sometimes stay there for a calm and quiet experience. Other times the two of you would be more inclined to have fun walking around downtown, going to karaoke, or enjoying the bustling energy of a café while drinking coffee.

Today was one of the days where Seungwan suggested to head over to get some coffee. Of course you agreed, as you decided long ago that anywhere Seungwan went you'd want to go too. Not surprised by your easy yes the two of you head out to your typical coffee place.

While in the middle of sipping on coffee Seungwan turns to the side. She rustles through her handbag to pull out two bracelets. She held onto the one with your name on it, while slightly bringing forward the one bearing her name. You stop drinking your beverage as you took a closer look at the bracelet resting in her hand.

It was a simple bracelet made with a dark string running through some beads. You appreciated the cute minimalism of it all. The beads were blue, and after spelling out her name there was a final bead that had a heart on it. You slowly reach out for the bracelet and wear it, admiring the way it felt and looked on your wrist.

You look at Seungwan's wrist as she also adorns the accessory. After your name was also a bead with a heart, and you can't help but to ask why she suddenly gave you such a gift anyways.

"Well… " She begins to look away, perhaps a bit nervously? When looking back at you she quickly looks back down. Unable to hold eye contact she explains herself anyways. "I thought it'd be a nice way to signify our connection. To keep us tied to each other." There's a moment of silence after she says this. You can't possibly control your heart, your mind, your feelings. Could this mean what you wanted it to mean?

"What kind of connection?"

"Whatever kind you want." The words come out a whisper as Seungwan finally looks back at you. Was this an opening? Did she mean what you thought she meant? You let your hand cautiously approach hers. She doesn't back away and let's you take it.

"Can I kiss you?" Your face is fire-hot as you ask, but now more than ever you wanted to. She leans in, and there was the first kiss you shared.

It was short, but it didn't need to be long. When your lips made contact it gave you a feeling of being weightless, yet at the same time it was enough to ground you into reality. This was it. It was really happening.

*

*

It had only been a few short weeks since you and Seungwan started dating. The two of you never said so aloud, but you both knew. She knew by the way you didn't shy to touch and be close with her more than before. You knew by the way she smiled and looked into your eyes. Sometimes when you like someone enough, you don't have to say it to understand.

Today when meeting up at the library Wendy took you out to eat at a nice restaurant. After enjoying dinner together she said she had something important to show you, curiously you followed her as the two of you eventually arrived at the boardwalk.

Since eating dinner took a while, it was now night. The bright white stars speckled the dark blue sky, while the inky black sea reflected the moon and the streetlights. Seungwan takes your hand, casually walking down the boardwalk with you while taking in the sights. You hum while enjoying the feeling of her hand in yours.

"Is this the important thing you wanted to show me?" You ask.

"I just wanted you to appreciate how beautiful the world can be sometimes, how beautiful living is." She says and looks at you. She gives you a smile. The kind of smile that told you that a person was content with life.

At one point Seungwan stops and leans over the railing, staring out to the sea. You lean over the railing right beside her. You spend some time admiring the sea, but you would rather turn and look at Seungwan. As you look at her she's still facing forward. Then she asks you a question you weren't expecting.

"Do I make you happy?" You would like to believe it's a rhetorical question, but she says it with a straight face.

"Of course you do, silly." You reply, scooting closer to her body to warm your own up. She smiles a bit at your answer before looking at you. There's a pause before she continues questioning you.

"Does anything else?"

"I don't know. Anything can be good as long as it's with you." You answer honestly, but Seungwan seems displeased. With a slight frown on her face and a glint of worry in her eyes she begins to hug you.

"I hope one day, Y/N, you realize you aren't alone." She says as she strokes your hair, tightening the embrace between the two of you.

"I won't be as long as I have you." You whisper into the crook of her neck. A moment of silence passes before she sighs and whispers.

"I wish you didn't rely on me so much."

"Why?"

She breaks the embrace and you begin to miss the warmth until she takes your face with her two hands. She looks at you with a longing you never saw before. Her eyes were watery as she gently confessed.

"Because I don't know how much longer we have together." You almost ask her to explain what she meant before she softly placed a kiss on your lips.

You wake up in a cold sweat, breathing heavily as you look around your room. Just a moment ago you were by the sea with Seungwan, and now you were back in your room. You flopped in your bed in frustration that you dreamed up a scenario with her. You calmed down though, knowing that you could visit her again later today.

After attending your classes for the day you excitedly made your way to the library. You walked towards the little corner of the library that you and Seungwan always shared, surprised to see that nobody was there. You sat down at the table anyways, opening up your bag and trying to immerse yourself in a book. Your foot tapped and tapped, the words your eyes saw across the page meaning nothing to you. It had only been 10 minutes, but it felt like forever.

Annoyed at her absence, you walked around searching for her, thinking maybe she was hiding and playing a trick on you. You whispered her name as you peeked your head around corners, going up and down in the aisles between selves. Fed up with searching, you went to a familiar librarian and asked if she'd seen Seungwan yet.

"I'm sorry Y/N, but who's Seungwan?" She said with a confused look on her face. You gave her a confused face back, shocked that a woman who had recommended books for the both of you to read, a woman who had watched your blossoming relationship with Seungwan progress, act like she didn't exist. You scoff and laugh it off.

"Sorry for asking." You say in a slightly sarcastic manner and go to pick up your bag. You reckon that Seungwan made her play along with her joke. You'd have to scold her for messing with you so bad later today.

You're bored and you don't know how to spend your time with Seungwan. As you walk down the familiar path, looking out to the sea, you grab your phone and decide to call Yeri.

"Yerim!" You call out as soon as you hear her answer the phone.

"Yeah, what's up Y/N?" She asks you.

"I'm bored and have some time to kill since Seungwan isn't here today. Do you wanna grab something to eat?" There's a silence on her end for a while.

"Sure, where do you wanna meet up?" She asks, but before you can answer she gives you another question. "Also, who's Seungwan? Is this a new friend you made? You should introduce me to them!" Your mouth feels dry all of a sudden and you don't know what to say. You stammer out a response for Yeri.

"Uh, just meet me at the boardwalk. I'll be waiting here." Before Yeri can say anything else you end the call. You bite your tongue in frustration. Did Seungwan make Yeri play in on this too? Despite all the reasoning you tried to do, a deep, unsettling feeling took over your entire body.

When Yeri arrived, you smiled and went about your day with her. Throughout the day Yeri noticed that something was off about you. You kept zoning out and were unable to really hold a conversation. As frustrated as she was with your lack of engagement, she figured you were working through things and didn't question you about it. Later that night she dropped you off at your place and you thanked her. You went back to your room, allowing yourself to putt all your weight on your bed as you stared at the ceiling.

The tears you had been holding all day finally broke through. The hot and salty tears streamed down your face uncontrollably. Had this all just been a cruel joke from your mind? Was it just a dream that lasted too long? Maybe, just maybe, the voice screaming in the back of your head was right the entire time. Seungwan was just too good to be true.

You decide to pull out a book from your nightstand, the book that you found within the bookshelves the day you met her. Thankfully the book was there. Perhaps your memory didn't fail you entirely. When you opened it to the first page though, you were shocked to see nothing. Frantically, you scanned through all the other pages only to see them in the same state. You wanted to question it, but considering what happened earlier today you just couldn't.

All you could do now was cry. Nothing made sense to you. What happened to the person you just kissed mere hours ago? The person who made living bearable again?

Afraid of getting the book wet, you quickly close it and put it away. You raise your hand up to your face as you sniffle. Wiping away the waterfall coming from your eyes, you feel the soft scratches of a string and bead. You pull away to see the bracelet you so distinctly remember putting on snuggly fitting on your wrist. Nothing made sense and you could only come to one conclusion.

She was gone, but not gone from your memory.

[footballerindreams]

How I Met Your Mother - Kanemoto Yoshinori

Right timing! Yoshi’s birthday is coming up! Therefore here’s an imagine dedicated for him.

S/O to @treasuredays​!

We all know that Yoshi has always adored his hyung, Choi Hyunsuk. But did you know there is one more person is adored…or should I say loved more than Choi Hyunsuk. You could say Yoshi’s family but it’s already given. Actually, there is another “Choi” that he loves: CHOI Y/N.

Who is she?

Oh. She’s just a Kindergarten teacher and just the beloved and closest cousin of Hyunsuk.

And how their love story bloomed is one heck of a whirlwind.

Aside from being an idol, Yoshi had engrossed himself with drawings and paintings. He draws and paints on his other free time (the other free time is producing music). One day Haruto came to his room to ask something and Yoshi was painting.

“Woah! Senpai! When was the last time I came here?” Ruto asked.

“Uhm, last week? Why?” the older Japanese replied.

“Is it just me or your room is now full of your artwork?” the younger said.

At the moment, Yoshi’s room is stacked with so many finished paintings on canvasses on one side of the room, a few stacks of sketches and drawings on his table. And now on the floor is another painting about to be finished as well.

“Do you have any plans for this, senpai?” HAruto asked again.

“Actually, no. You know me Ruto. I just paint and draw as a hobby.”

“Don’t tell me, your going to get rid all of these later.”

“WHAT! NO! I’ve worked hard on this!”

“Ok. But for sure you are not planning to look for another room and use this room as your stock room for all your paintings. And besides your works are good. Why don’t you show it publicly?”

“I did. Treasure map?”

“Aside from that.”

“Then what do you suggest to do?”

And so later that night, the members had a meeting and decided they will have an open exhibit for all of Yoshi’s work. At first they wanted it to display on the lobby of the YG Building. But the other idols (like Bobby-hyung) and the higher ups said, “Go all out.” and in the end Yoshi’s drawings are displayed at the Samsung Museum of Art.

Then came D-Day for Yoshi’s exhibit and as expected, many people came to see his work. From fans, to even high profile people. Hell! Even Samsung’s CEO came to see and wanted to buy some of Yoshi’s artwork and the man was shocked. Did he sold it, of course…No at first. The CEO wanted to buy one of his work for more than 2 Million Won and all of the members are flabbergasted…and more flabbergasted when Yoshi refused it. But after some consideration (thanks to Hyunsuk saying that he can do more paintings if he wants to), he said yes.

 Yoshi is busy roaming around when he saw a group of children, probably Kindergarten students coming in the exhibit hall. Yoshi has always been fond of kids so he said his hellos to them, until he caught sight of their teacher.

“Y/N! You’re here!” Hyunsuk shouted running towards the teacher.

“Hi, hyung! Yeah. It happened that the kids have field trip today and I decided to take them to this exhibit when I saw an ad yesterday. I never expected to see you here too.” Y/N replied.

“Well, the exhibit is all Yoshi’s work. You know him, right?” Hyunsuk said with a smile while patting Yoshi’s shoulder.

“Wow! Is this all of your work?” Y/N was amazed.

“Hai…I mean…Ne!” Yoshi stuttered.

“They’re so beautiful.”

You’re beautiful as well.

“Arigato gozaimasu…” Yoshi bowed in embarrassment.

---

Well, that was not the last time Yoshi saw Y/N. The next time was at Hyunsuk’s birthday.  And this time he really sucked up all the courage he has…just to get her number, which she gladly gave.

Sure after that they sent messages, called, and even hanged out!

Though Yoshi is liking her more and more, he never said what he felt. He thought hanging out with her is enough.

---

“Tadaima.” Yoshi said as he entered their dorm. He just came back from another hangout with Choi Y/N.

“Well, guess who came home so “early”.” Hyunsuk sarcastically greeted while sitting on the couch. It seems like he’s waiting for a particular someone to come home.

“Hyung, you’re still up?” Yoshi said.

Hyunsuk stood up almost jumping from the couch and approached the younger member who is taller than him. “Yeah. Care to say where have you been the whole time?” Hyunsuk asked.

“I was at the studio working on---”

“Don’t lie to me Yoshinori. I know you’ve been meeting with Y/N the whole time you are out of the dorm.” Yoshi swallowed the lump on his throat as he looked at his hyung. He knows Hyunsuk is really serious.

“Stay away from her.” Just is what Hyunsuk only said and then he went to his room.

---

Yesterday

Yoshi! I have free time this Saturday. Can we hangout?

Hi Yoshi! You’re probably busy right now. I’m sorry if I am disturbing you.

Today

Hi Yoshi. Is there something wrong? It’s so unusual that you’re not replying.

I know I sound intrusive, but you know, you can talk to me.

I’m fine Y/N. Don’t worry. =)

---

Y/N is so worried so after her class she decided to go to Yoshi’s dorm to check him out.

“Y/N! Did not expect for you to come. You should’ve told me. I should’ve picked you up.” Hyunsuk said as he saw his cousin outside the door.

“It’s okay. Sukkie-hyung. Anyway, is Yoshi here right now?” Y/N casually asked.

Then Hyunsuk’s face changed. “Why are you looking for him?” he sternly asked.

“I’ve been texting him but he’s not answering. I thought he has a problem, and I was a bit worried.”

“He’s not here!” Hyunsuk replied at bit loudly making Y/N flinched a bit. “I---I’m sorry Y/N. I did not mean to.” Hyunsuk immeditaley apologized.

“Uhm. It’s okay. But are you okay? You seem agitated.” Y/N asked. She thinks something’s up.

“I’m fine.”

---

“Yoshi!” Y/N screamed as she saw the Japanese boy sitting on a bench looking towards Han River. Yoshi heard her voice and looked at her direction. With widened eyes, he suddenly got up from his seat about to leave.

“Wait Yoshi, stop!” Y/N grabs his hand. “Why are you avoiding me? Did I do something wrong?” Y/N asked.

“No. Nothing, Y/N. I just really have to go. I still have some work---”

“I TOLD YOU TO STAY AWAY FROM HER!” Hyunsuk came dashing and grabbed Yoshi’s collar pulling him closer. Yoshi is now trembling.

“Hyunsuk, what are you doing?!” Y/N dashed to free Yoshi from her cousin but she was only stopped by the Japanese.

“It’s okay Y/N.”

Hyunsuk grabbed Yoshi’s collar tighter almost ready to punch the other’s face.

“Again. I told. You. To stay. AWAY FROM HER! Which part of that do you not understand?!” Hyunsuk shouted.

“Hyunsuk! I was the one who went to him! What’s your problem?!”

“I don’t want you to be hurt again, Y/N. DO you still remember the time that you came to me crying after you found out your boyfriend was sleeping with another girl?” Hyunsuk replied.

“I do! But Hyunsuk, Yoshi is different. I know, and I believe he’s different.” Y/N cannot take it anymore and said, “I like him, Hyunsuk!”

Hyunsuk let Yoshi got when he heard what his cousin said.

“I like him. What can I do? I can’t help it.” Y/N kneeled on the ground and cried.

Yoshi came closer to her and wiped her tears away. “Please don’t cry. I’m sorry I avoided you. It’s just that I don’t want Hyunsuk-hyung to hate me and you to become sad.” Yoshi held her hand. “But now I know too. I like you too, Choi Y/N.”

Y/N hugged him tight for the first time.

While Hyunsuk just stood there, feeling guilty for what he did.

It turns out that Y/N had a prior relationship before Yoshi. A Japanese expat working at a big Korean firm. Y/N was so in love with him and she would always tell Hyunsuk about him. But then she caught him cheating on her. When Hyunsuk knew, he could not control himself and almost thrown his reputation away as an idol. Thanks to Y/N and her kindness, he stopped before he lands a fist on the guy. At that point Hyunsuk was always on guard for his cousin, especially with Japanese men.

---

Yoshi and Y/N’s relationship bloomed and stayed strong. When Seung and Yong were born, Hyunsuk tried to tease them to seal the deal and give his twins a cousin to play with only for him to get a sassy reply from his cousin.

“Don’t you dare tell us to seal the deal. You haven’t even sealed yours! Do it first.” Y/N said that made Yoshi laugh at his hyung.

We can say Yoshi is a box full of surprises. During Jihoon’s wedding, he asked Jihoon to intentionally throw the garter to him and Jihoon’s wife to throw the bouquet to Y/N. The newly wed couple made it as natural as it is. And it really happened. The bouquet was thrown first, and Y/N got it.

Then instead of a garter, a small white box was thrown and Yoshi, as intended, got it.

They were at the center and the people are watching them. Then Yoshi kneeled and Y/N was shocked.

“I want us to be the next couple to get married. I think it’s time to seal the deal. Choi Y/N, will you marry me?” And Yoshi opened the box revealing an Aquamarine gemstone ring.

Y/N can’t believe what’s happening and cried, “Of course I will!”

---

A few months after their engagement, the got married in Yoshi’s hometown of Kobe. And during that time, Hyunsuk was the best man. He even delivered a speech for the couple.

“I don’t know why but my cousin has a thing for Japanese men. But I’m happy that out of all Japanese men she met, Yoshi is the one she is spending her life with. At first I was afraid that things will go wrong again, and that Yoshi, eventhough I know he is a good man, will be the same as the prick who broke my cousin’s heart. But he proved me wrong. And also, I know Yoshi adores me so much. Even during Treasure box time. But I did not expect he would go to the extent of being a part of my family tree. But anyways, welcome to the Choi family, brother, and cousin-in-law. Cheers to the newly weds.”

And then a year after, Hikaro was born, much to the happiness of Seung and Yong.

[angelisverba]

i’ll hold you so you don’t fall again

in which y/n is just really creative and harry writes erotica under a pseudonym.

pairing: interiordesing!y/n and eroticawriter!harry

word count: 21k+

note: i’m so freaking sorry this took so long. thank you for being patient with me, and i hope its what you expected :) also the formatting is all wonky i have no idea why.

Y/n wasn’t one to brag.

She knew what it felt like to sit and nod while someone else talked about their accomplishment. The itchy pull of heart strings; the yearning of wanting success, too. 

But, she also knew how awkward it was to go back and forth declining compliments. 

Which is why she never bragged about her newfound success. Or did the whole ‘oh you’re too sweet’ ordeal. She said thank you, and moved on. 

Because it definitely was one.

 A sudden change of no recognition to suddenly everyone wants her.

She had her friend, Lucy, to thank. Lucy had just opened up a coffee shop. One of those cute artsy ones on a street in West Hollywood somewhere, with money she had saved up over the years. It just so happened that her best friend was a talented painter, designer, and dabbled in all kinds of crafts. Y/n was known for always maintaining a tiny business of whatever it was she could come up with, and when her friend asked for help to decorate and set up shop, she jumped at the opportunity to go big. 

The store was a loft-y type space. A blank, grey walls and metal; an industrial room. The first time Y/n looked at it, her mind  flooded with ideas. Mirrors, art, frames, flowers, and anything that could be put up. Different themes and approaches to light up the room. But, before doing anything, she had a nice long talk with Lucy, about what she wanted to see. Had her set up a pinterest board with items for the shop. Color schemes, movies, plants, etc. From that, y/n took hold of the project, asking for Lucy’s opinion here and there, but taking most choices to her own judgement. 

The end result… well, it was the reason why Lucy was full all the damn time. Y/n had turned the lofty space into an Instagram hippie galore. Lucy’s mood board consisted of a weird mix of Madonna, pearls, and David Bowie. So, all over there were some of the most famous pop-culture posters. Streams of pearls. Mason jars lined with pearls. Velvet curtains with golden tassels; the stringy ones that tickled when you rub them all over your palm. There were light bulbs and fairy lights hanging in the wooden beams from the ceiling, that were turned on everyday 30 minutes after sunset, like the headlights on cars. Additional records were set to look through and buy in a corner, and opposite that a jukebox with records that both y/n, Lucy, and Lucy’s boyfriend, Mike, had picked. The labels were written in y/n’s writing, a mix between curly-cue and messy doctors cursive; clean enough to read, messy enough to enjoy. 

No plants. Or succulents, at least, but y/n had bought 5 dozens of roses from downtown. She’d hung them up to dry, left some where they were, and others she put in empty glass cola bottles that were in the center of each of the 10 booths. On the single, middle tables, y/n had placed leather table cloths. No flowers. 

And the menus? Oh gosh, the menus. They were y/n’s pride and joy. 

She’d closed herself in an entire day, to create the finishing look. With a copy of drinks (labeled like ‘Madonna’ and then the actual coffee order that star would’ve wanted)  and the small variety of sandwiches (& other finger foods) y/n drew portraits on blackboards, used different fonts, painting mediums, and at a certain point even incorporated glitter, to create these magnificent hand drawn chalk menus. 

Then the outside of the shop. This is what got her word out. 

A journalist of some sort had happened to stumble upon Coffee for Rockstars the day that y/n was painting the windows. 

You know, like with a brush and paint can. 

She’d blocked off her workspace with chairs and caution tape, jammed her newly bought airpods in, and pressed play to her music. 

The mural- Lucy labeled it, but to y/n it really wasn’t all that much, consisted of a the planet Saturn, with David Bowie, Elton John, Prince, Stevie Nicks, Freddie Mercury, and The Beatles prancing along the rings (all picked by Lucy). The window was a 5-or-so feet taller than her, so she had to use one of the chairs to reach the top half of the planet. 

While she painted Elton’s fluffy feather suit on, the journalist had approached her, his waist pushing through the tape y/n had put up. 

“Excuse me?” he called out to her, hands positioned on one of those Canon Rebel whatever they were called everyone seemed to be carrying around these days. 

And Wild Night by Van Morrison may have been playing a little too loud because y/n didn’t hear him the first time, and he had to call out again, leaning forward slightly to catch her attention.  

“Excuse me?” The guy says a little louder. This time, she sees him, and turns while removing her headphones, getting paint on her forehead and hair. 

“Oh!” she said, startled. “How can I help you?” Her cheeks flame a bit when he gives her a boyish smile, lips twirling up to the corner of his eyes. He’s cute, she thinks, floppy hair that’s sunbleached at the tips from the sun, and freckles in the bridge of his roman nose. 

“Yes, actually. My names’ James. I was wondering if I could take your picture for an article I’m doing. I work with the LA times, in the local business section, and there's a piece on West Hollywood’s hottest places. This one’s trending.” He lifts his camera in a ‘here it is!’ gesture. 

“Me?” she asked in disbelief. Her eyebrows raised high above their usually places, and her eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. “Shouldn’t you be photographing inside? You know, like the people?” 

“You worked on this place didn’t you? That’s what Lucy told me. You’re a big part of what makes this place hot ‘n trendy. Plus, this live painting action will look wonderful…” he trailed off, his glance drifting to the window and to the picture she was painting. “It’s really good. Deserves some recognition.” 

“Uhm…” Y/n looks around. There’s people on the opposite street staring at her, some that linger as they walk by. She catches a window roll down as the car goes by. 

She’s always been small. In size, in popularity. She’s never been in demand. If she said yes, there's a possibility that that would change. A small part of her wanted that… she could finally start her business, like she’s always wanted to...

    “Okay, how do you want me?”

    He laughed, and told her to just continue with what she was doing. So, she did. She added more paint to her glass palette, and unprofessionally used her bare thigh to rid the brush of the excess paint. Momentarily, the brush found its way to the bite of her teeth, so the girl could put her earphones back in and get back into the right headspace to work. 

The journalist, chuckled as he watched her, amused by her tactics, how she leaned back to look at the bigger picture. He was done in a matter of minutes, taking pictures of everything she’d set up in her closed off area. The tarp she’s laid on the floor.  The cans of paint; red, blue, yellow, green, white, and black. An uneaten sandwich and a glass bottle filled with pink liquid (lemonade and a bit of vodka, y/n’s choice of drink when she was painting, claiming it got her ‘creative juices flowing’). 

He has to get her attention again the same way, because she’d managed to lose herself in what she was doing. 

“You’re all done?” she asked him, once again plucking the earphone out with a yank. 

“Yep, got more than enough.” James said, placing  a black cap on the lens of his camera. “Can I ask you a few questions?”     Y/n smirked a bit, thinking back to her school days when smartass teachers would respond with ‘i don’t know, can you?’ and she nearly did as well. 

She didn’t though. She just said, “Go right ahead.” 

“Well, first thing’s first,” he reached into his front pocket, and pulled out his phone. Who keeps their phone in their front pocket, she thought. “Name, age, and what you did for Rockstar’s cafe?” 

“My name is y/n, I’m 21, and I was interior and, as you can see, exterior, designer as well for Rockstar Cafe.” She’s shifting awkwardly side to side, tugging at the ends of her large,  orange Garfield shirt nervously. Flashes of her jean cut-offs peeked where her shirt lifted. 

“Tell me a little bit about the process of creating the entire ‘astro-70’s’ vibe you got going on here are the shop.” James doesn’t look up at her, because he’s furiously typing away at his phone, noting down what y/n says. 

    “Well, that was really Lucy’s doing. She provided me with pictures of things she wanted, kinda like… uhm.. that aura? I guess you could say that she wanted the place to have. I worked side by side with her, to make this happen. This was her vision, I just helped it....” she struggled for a moment, to put her thoughts into words, “come to life.” 

He looked up at her then, a small smile on  his lips. “What’s your favorite thing about it so far?” 

“I’d say, the way the menu is set up. An artist’s name, and the drink they’d get. Lucy did her reasearch, and found out like, I guess you could say, their ‘regulars’. So, what’s on the menus are what the artist actually would like.” Subconsciously, she points to the inside of the shop, referring to the menus. 

“Last question, have you ever done anything like this before?” 

Y/n stammered for a moment, then said, “No. I haven't.” She taps the tips of her shoes together, all paint splattered and scuffed. “Nothing at this level of big. I’ve always kinda, worked on crafts. In highschool I had a small business, where’d I’d sell personalized things.  I think that’s why Lucy trusted me so much. Because I have a history of reaching to the stars when it comes to paper and pencil.” 

“That was great. Thank you so much, y/n. It was interesting to hear about you, and the cafe.” James places his phone back in his front pocket, and hooks his thumbs onto the straps of his camera as if they were suspenders. “Is there a website or business card you’d like me to reference in the article, after your name and all that?”  

“I don’t have anything like that actually. Just that I worked with Lucy, I guess you could say.” She puckers her lips at the end, shaking her head slightly. 

“Okay, well then. I’ll leave you to it. It’s coming along amazing.” James nods politely. “Have a great rest of your day, y/n.” Then walks away. 

“Bye, James.” She twiddles her fingers at him her way of saying goodbye. It doesn’t take her long to get sucked back into her work. In fact, as soon as she puts the earphones back in, she’s gone off the face of the earth, and doesn't notice when a green-eyed stranger stops to stare at her, right by the tree that she’d wrapped the caution tape around. The man pinched his lip as he watched, eyebrows furrowed with the same concentration y/n had for her work.

Except that he was watching her. The way her wrist flicked, how she tilted her face to look at what she was doing. How she stood like a flamingo, with her ankle pressed against her calf. The way she blew the wisps of hair off her mouth. 

He watched her intently, wondering who she was and how did she get there and what her name was.

And then, 

Brushing those thoughts out of his mind, he walked into the shop and didn’t look back. 

.

.

“Y/N!!” Lucy yelled from the counter. 

Y/n, covered head to toe in sparkly purple fabric, rushed out with a bit of hummus on toast in her mouth still. 

It was Halloween, and Lucy had demanded they both dress up as part of the uniform at Rockstar that day. Y/n, had decided she would go as Selena Quintanilla, and had crafted herself a halter top-style romper with purple cloth she had bought at the fashion district earlier that week. She’s woken up early too, and gone to her mom’s house so she could do her hair, and make up (given she’d lived at the same time Selena had). 

Lucy, ever the creative one, teased her blonde hair, spray painted it with a cheap can of green hair dye from the dollar store, and bought a pinstripe tux. TA-da! Beetlejuice, beetlejuice, beetlejuice. 

“Y/n!” Lucy was hissing now, impatient and demanding. It was a busy day at Rockstar. Social media influencers had come out for photo-ops and the like. Also, Lucy had a deal going of buy one get another iced coffee half off, and a free cassette with the $20+ purchase. 

“I’m coming, Luce! I’m coming, Jesus Christ,” y/n finished off chewing, tugged on the halter top to make sure nothing would pop out of place and washed her hands in the sink to help Lucy at the register. 

After she finished, she took place along side the three baristas, Kelsey, Tilly, and Kim. Kelsey was a broke college student, Tilly an Asian girl who doubled as a pole dancer on certain nights (she wore a mask to make sure her identity stayed secret), and Kim was a 30- year old who lives in his parents house. Bit of a creep if you asked y/n. 

“Y/n, you wanna take order 48 or 50?” Asked Tilly while rinsing a measuring cup. 

“I’ll take 50 and start on 52.” Y/n responded, tying the apron straps behind her neck. She didn’t tell Tilly that she picked order 50 because she hated making espressos, and order 48 consisted of three espressos. Order 50 was only four iced coffees. 

After she finished decorating Lucy’s coffee shop a month ago, Lucy didn’t offere y/n a job, but she was always around to help, and Lucy paid her for it. After class, y/n would stop by the shop, and that would lead to her working as a barista. Which she didn’t mind, the money helped and it gave her something to go. Otherwise, she’d be at home with her nose stuck in a regency novel and a buzzing feeling of want in her crotch at the cue of poetically beautiful yet smutty words. 

“Order number 50!” She called out. She set the plastic cup on the pick-up counter and plucked a stray from the jars to place alongside the drink. Seconds later, the drink was picked up by a tall and tanned man with green eyes; nails painted black; rings adorning each finger; soft, pink lips and a scruffy jaw. Curly strands of brown hair peeked out of a green beanie. 

He smiled at y/n. The way you smile at the cashier in the market. Polite. A bit disconnected in the eyes. He said, “Good morning, Selena. May I have a cup holder please?” 

In a British accent made heavier by the morning gruffness in his voice. Scratchy, deep, manly. And incredibly sexy. 

Of course, y/n took a moment to take in and drink the image presented before her, but after she felt her cheeks heat up like the fire underneath a witches feet, she cleared her throat and responded with, “You recognized who I was! Kudos to you, sir!” with a grin on her red lips. The man chuckled, and took the carton cup holder y/n gave him. 

“Have a great rest of your day,” was the last thing he said before he walked away. Y/n stared after him, watching the way his thighs filled in the fitting yellow pants he where, and how his biceps looked deliciously muscular; bulging in a white tee. 

“Y/N!”

“Sorry, Lucy!” Y/n skipped back to her post in front of the screen,and began reading off orders for Tilly, and Kim to make, and picked one for herself. Two iced coffees, one heated croissant. She was in the middle of measuring the milk when Lucy called her name again. 

“Lucy, I’m doing it, okay?” Y/n responded, frazzled. 

Lucy sucked on her teeth. “Y/n, come over here.” When y/n looked up, she saw that not only was Lucy looking at her, but a tall skinny blond with a sharp cut bob and a long white silk dress. 

Confused, y/n dumped the milk into the mixing cup and handed the order over to Kelsy for her to finish. “Yes?”

“This is Karime, and she wants you to help her decorate her store.” Lucy held a palm out towards the woman. “Karime, this is y/n.” 

“It’s so nice to finally meet you!” Karime said, and y/n had to restrain from cringing at her nasally, high-pitched voice. “I love what you’ve done with this place! My store could use some re-camping, and when I saw the article I just had to come and see if I could hire you.” Karime makes gestures with her manicured hands, and titles her head in ways that makes her hair shake like sheets in the wind.

“Oh! Um…” 

“Why don’t you go ahead and talk with Karime, we’re all covered back here.” said Lucy, an extra-pleased tone in her voice; the voice she used with customers to keep them happy, y/n had recognized. Oh so now you don’t want me to work? y/n thought to herself, but gave the same smile the green-eyed stranger had given her, and walked out through the waist high swinging door to meet with Karime.  

“So, I wanted to know if it was possible to hire you on a month to month basis. Ou could come in the first week of every month, decorate, redecorate, while I suggest and give you a picture of what I want, like you did for Lucy.” Karime had a bamboo handle purse, and they clacked together every time she moved her hands in ‘here’ or ‘there’ gestures.  

They’re both standing at the start of the record shelves, and Y/n is awkwardly shifting her weight from foot to foot and fiddling with her hands. She’s sweating, too. This was huge. Big. Is this what networking was? Getting the word out? Expanding? If she said yes, it’s possible that it’d create a cycle. Someone else would come in, asking for help, to hire, to contract. It was a rush. She was giddy, excited. But most of all, nervous. One, because she’s a bit clumsy in the social aspect, and Two, because she had a standard to meet. 

Despite all this, she said, “Of course, when do I start?” 

Then, Karime had given y/n the address of her shop (a weird mix of aromatherapy, kale smoothies with books), and they decided on a day to meet up (the second day of every month starting November, two days from that day). 

Karime left after that. She hadn’t bought anything. Lucy congratulated y/n, squealed over it even, and Lucy never squeals. Kim looked over at them when he heard Lucy, and tried to ask what all the fuss was about. Lucy demanded he go back to work, and y/n ignored him. 

When closing time came, the girls did the bare minimum, and rushed out to pregame at Mike’s apartment. Like crazy teenagers, Lucy and y/n shared three bottles of a Stella Rosa bottle that had been on sale at the grocery store at the corner of Mike’s apartment complex. Inside, Mike was 2 beers in, and claimed he wouldn’t drink anymore since he was the DD. 

“You guys go on and drink yourselves black.” he said, sitting on the couch with a water in his hand and Lucy in his lap.  Mike, a slender punk rock kid who proved his mom wrong in the fact that his like for the color black is ‘not a phase’ is the sweetest guy y/n had ever met. He wasn’t afraid to show his love for Lucy, always doting on her, and if she asked, would rip out his heart and give it to her. 

Y/n was jealous. She yearned for a relationship like theirs, and no matter how long she waited, how hard she tried, Prince Charming never showed. Instead, she was stuck with watching Mike and Lucy rub into her face what she wanted so badly. 

Affection. Love. Companionship. 

Cheers to that, y/n thought. Her bottle of Mango and whatever the heck the flavor was called, was nearly done and she could still walk in a straight line. The wine was juice in her hands. Child’s play. Water. It had no effect on her. Not until she was three bottles in. It took an entire bottle of Smirnoff vodka shots to get her going once. Only then could she completely let go. 

“A lonely soul drowns in Stella Rosa, Mike.” Lucy, her hair sticking up like Einstein from the re-teasing she’d done in the bathroom. “There it stands, taking the shape of Selena. Poor, poor, Selena.” Lucy giggled. A teasing jab that made y/n pout, and y/n heart to clench because she knew Lucy was right. A lonely soul she was. 

“That’s not very nice of you, Lucy.” Y/n pointed at her friend, bottle in her hand. “First you yell at me at work, now you make fun of my love life?” Shes joking, too, but there's a bit of truth to her words. Meaning, Intention. 

“Drink up, lonely soul, and prepare for the battle that lies ahead: the making intercourse with an attendee of the club.”

“Blah,blah, and screw you.” grumbled y/n, finally, finishing the bottle with a final drink. 

.

.

Not that y/n had anything against it, but fuck the club. She hated it. She only ever went because Lucy or Mike or whoever else begged her to go with them and promised something in return. (Lucy promised she wouldn’t ask her for help the following day). She hated the lights, how load it was, and how much she was being touched. Sweaty men and women alike, rubbing up on her in places where she didn’t want to be, it was too hot, and her toes always got stepped on. 

“The usual for you, y/n?” Mike was yelling. His mouth was at her ear, but even then, only some of what he was saying made it into her ears. She simply nodded, and lifted up to fingers. Two gin and tonics. One part water, three parts gin. 

Lucy and y/n had managed to snatch a tiny booth when they walked in, and this was the place y/n was planning to spend most of her night. Not out on the blue-lit dance floor, not standing at the bar. Sitting at the dark booth, glumly sipping at her two gin-n-tonics. 

“You are not gonna sit here sippin’ glumly at your drinks, got that?” Luccy pulled at the lapels of her suit, popping her collar so the tips touched her jaw. 

“Lucy, please.” Y/n’s bangs were deflated and her lipstick was smudged, at her friends comment, she sunk into her seat and pulled her head around.  

“Let’s go.” 

Lucy tugged her onto the dancefloor just as some song by Cardi B or Nicki Minaj (y/n couldn't tell anymore) blared through the speakers, and the bass beat thrummed in her chest. They stayed for a few minutes, and in those few minutes, y/n’s toes grew numb with how much they’d been stepped on, and her hair was beginning to stick at the back of her neck. Lucy’s black and white makeup was gleaming with her sweat, and her hair dropped with condensation. 

It looked a bit funny really. Selene and Beetlejuice together on the dance floor. An odd pairing, but a parenting nonetheless. Lucy led her back to where Mike was when she got tired of dancing, and like an obedient puppy, y/n trailed behind her. When Lucy ordered y/n to chug her drink, she did it.

She couldn’t say not. Not to Lucy. Not to Karime. Not to James.

She couldn’t say no. 

And because she couldn’t say no, y/n woke up the next morning and couldn't remember a thing. She had a Katy Perry Last Friday Night moment. Sadly, there was no really hot guy next to her on her bed, and thankfully, she hasn’t wearing headgear. 

What woke her, was the pain behind her eyelids that started when the light hit her. With a groan, she hid in the crease of her elbow while she scraped her thoughts together. Y/n was still in her Selena get up. She itched, smelled, and had a headache that hurt like...well, it hurts so much that she didn’t even know what to compare it to. She felt on her nightstand, and there it was. Bless his heart. 

Mike had left her a glass of something cold, and two pills. She didn’t know for sure because she didn’t have the energy to peek and see, but the class was probably pedialyte. The hangover cure. The pills were Tylenol. They had to be, because he knew ibuprofen doesn’t do shit for her. 

“Fuck, fuck,fuck,” y/n mumbled. Her tongue felt like sandpaper against the dry roof of her mouth, and when she swallowed, there was a dangerous taste of gin to her spit. Pressing her fingertips to her aching temples, she curses Lucy for making her go out last night, and Mike for letting y/n chug alcohol. 

    Unfortunately, she makes the stupid mistake of rising quickly from her potition on the bed to ‘get it over with’ and not even a full second goes by when she feels her stomach contents worming up her throat. She had to clamp her lips together and rush to the bathroom with her blanket wrapped around her ankles so she doesn’t barf all over her floor. 

    She doesn’t make it in time, and she spilled her gut on the toilet seat, before she’s made it so that her head is positioned right over the toilet bowl. She heaves and heaves until her chest hurts from the muscle contractions and her throat burns from the amount of acidity her bile holds. Tears drop from the corner of her eyes to where her thumbs grasp the seat because it fucking hurts and she’s gotten throw up in her hair. 

    The pain in her chest seems to have gone deeper, and wrapped its sharp talons into her heart. Her tears become purposeful; there’s a reason behind them not. She wishes there was someone there to hold her hair. To rub her back and tell her it was all going to be okay. To bring her the glass of pedialyte of her bedside table and coax her to drink it because she’d forgotten it. 

 Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, y/n gets up and flushes the toilet, wiping down the toilet seat with paper from the roll. The blanket, still curled around her ankles, she picks up and hoists it over her shoulders. She gurgles water from the sink before heading out, avoiding making eye-contact with the horrendous image in her mirror. 

Pedialyte goes down like the gin did last night, and she throws in the pills when she drinks, simultaneously pulling the strings so her blings flip downwards and cut off the light coming in from the outside. Quickly, she strips from the itchy Selena ensemble, and slips on a red t-shirt with the Kool-Aid man’s face on it over her head. Y/n has learned that its worse to go to bed and not eat, so she doesn't get back into bed, even though she really wants to and instead throws the blanket on top of her scattered pillows, and turns to make breakfast in her impossibly tiny kitchen. 

She lives in a little lofty space in the downtown area. The cheapest of all her options, and the best kept compared to the rest. The windows were blackened around the edges, and her air conditioner didn’t work, but hey, at least she had a roof over her head that she didn’t have to share with her parents. And she liked the window wall, too, and how the windows propped open on hinges. The way her brick walls looked during golden hour. It was very pretty. Relaxing. 

Slowly but surely, she’s built herself a little home that she feels comfortable in. In her tiny little space, her favorite thing was her radio. An absolute steal at the thrift store: a really old radio with big knobs and the red line that moved left and right when you tried to pick a station. She went to it now, and turned it on at a soft volume. The song that always feels like it's about a one winged dove by Fleetwood Mac came on, and she hums it softly while she turns on the stove. It click, click, clicks on when the gas catches flames, and she pours oil into a pan to crack an egg over it. The white edges sizzle, and bits of oil jump up and splash onto her skin. It happens so much it doesnt hurt her; she doesn't even flinch.  When the egg begins to turn golden, she turns down the knob, and goes back to her fridge in search of an avocado. Call her a trend follower, but she’d be damned if egg and avocado didn’t hit the spot. Plus, she makes an ace toast. 

Surprisingly, the smell of egg (her dad likes to say eggs smell like ass) doesn’t upset her stomach, no. Actually, her stomach grumbled when she smelled it, and the ache that had begun to spread across the lower region of her abdomen made her hurry to cut open the avocado, and pop in a slice of sourdough bread into the toaster. She fore-went mayo that time, instead just wanted to get something into her burning stomach because she was so hungry. Her eyes blearily while she does all this. 

By the time she’d spread her avocado and egg of the long slices of bread, the radio was playing Girls Just Wanna Have Fun By Cindy Lauper and y/n is doing a little happy dance on her way to her wicker table by the window, next to the bookshelf resting against her wall. Before she sat down, she reached for a novel on the shelf, and set it alongside her plate on the table. 

Biting into her toast, she opened the book. 

    Dani’s cheeks blushed a wine-pink color. She looked away.

“You confuse me so,” she mumbled just loud enough for him to hear. 

“How?” He grazed her jaw with gentle fingers, enough to turn her so she’s looking at him.

“You say that what we have, this spectacle we put on, is simple only to convince the people you will be a good king, but them you look at me… like that.”

“Like what? Like I want to kiss you?” he whispered, smiling faintly. “Because I do.” 

She seemed not to know what to say, and resolutely, she turned so she sat facing forward between his spread thighs, back to him. 

He realized then, that her shyness had caught up with her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and set his chin on her shoulder. 

“I’m no expert in etiquette, Your Highness, but I’m sure this is high;y improper.” She sait, stiffly and primly while he cuddled her.

“Proper? They call me Rafe the Rake. I’d say, my little peach, that we passed proper a long time ago.” 

“Don’t call me that,” she mumbled. 

“What do you wish I call you then?”

“Dani.” 

He chuckled at her response. “It’s a hellions name. It suits you well, all right. You can call me Rafe, if you like.”

“I do not wish to call you Rafe.” “No?”

“It’s a scoundrel’s name. I wish to call you Rafael. Like the angel.” 

“An optimist, aren’t you?” Rafael began combing his fingers through her hair, sifting through the silking

strands then massaging down her neck and shoulders.

She sank back into his chest with a sigh. “That feels wonderful.” 

“I should probably warn you,” he leans forward so that his lips are pressed against the shell of her ear. “I’m rather gifted with my hands.” She tensed again when he leaned down and nibbled on the skin of her neck, but Rafael left her melt in his arms when he continued his sensual massage on her shoulders. “Are you uneasy with this?” He paused to take her hands into his own, feeling as if he were young again with the first girl he had taken a liking towards.

“No,” she said quietly.

“Good.” With fingers still threaded through hers, he drew her hands back, and pinned her arms ever so gently behind her for a moment, gazing down her neckline at her creamy chest. Her breasts her small, but awfully perky and firm. He wondered if he could fit the entirety of one in his mouth. He bet that she’d like it if he did. 

Y/n paused for a moment, and clenched her thighs together. A buzzing feeling was starting to form on her clit, and she felt the space where her thighs touch grow warm. The Kool-aid man’s eye popped with hoe erect her nipples were. She was aroused. And she knew that the feeling would only grow more intense the longer she read, which she planned on doing. So, she picked up her plate, placed it in the sink, and took her and her book into her dark room. 

    Her novel, Our Sign of the Times by Lemus Knox was tatted and bent this way and that from all the times she’s cracked the pages open for a steamy read. A painting of a bodacious woman and handsome prince posing in front of a castle adorned the front cover (one of the main reasons why she bought it). The was was strong, with raven hair and a strong jaw that portured strongly as he kissed the brunette woman in a lilly gown that he held in his arms. The castle was cottage like, with ivy covered walls and stone hedges; complete with a moat and bridge wrapping around the area. The author, Lemus Knox, painted the image himself, as he say so in the acknowledgements. No one knows who he is, how old he is, where he lives, or anything else about him really. A pseudonym, he says. A way to keep his life private life and still do what he loves to do: write.Y/n stumbled upon his book two years ago, in the best sellers section at Barnes and Nobles, and has been slowly falling in love with him and his characters ever since.

    When she settled back into her blankets, y/n opened her book, and placed a single hand on her tummy, over the Kool-aid man’s mouth.

    “It’s getting dark,” she said rather breathlessly, “don’t you think it’s time we head back?”

    “I like being on the water at night. You can’t see. You can only hear the wares and you have to feel,” he teasingly brushed his fingers over the tops of her breasts, “your way back to shore. Feel your way through the dark.” He whispered into her ear,one of his hands splaying on her stomach and pushing back up, up, up to her breasts. “A man has to know exactly what he’s doing.” 

    She arched against him with a soft catch in her breath as he finally cupped her small breast in his large hands; her generous nipples turned hard underneath his circling thumbs. 

    “Rafael,” she moaned breathlessly, arms wrapped against his neck as she pushed her swollen mounds against his roaming hands. “We can’t. We’re not married yet.”

    “Oh, my sweet love.” Rafael’s hands slid back down against her belly and began stroking her thighs. “I don’t plan on deflowering you yet. I simply wish to learn what it is you like.”

    “But… I do not know what I like.” Her words were gasps of dreamy pleasure. 

    “Then I guess we’ll have to find out, won’t we?” 

    Knowingly, y/n’s hand began to follow the same path that Rafael’s had. Thumbs circling against swollen nipples, fingertips teasing the insides of her thighs.

    Her head was cushioned against his chest, and she turned her fact to him, seeking his mouth in innocent yearning. He lowered his head, and parted her lips with long strokes of his tongue into her sweet mouth, savoring the way she tasted. She reached up, and caressed his cheek as they kissed in slow, soulful agony. 

While she ran her fingers through his unbound hair, Rafael deftly inched her skirts upward over her exquisite legs. His heart pounded as she let his hands roam under the gathered layers of silk gown and muslin petticoat. He groaned into her lips when his fingers came to the edge of her white stockings, and found tenderly warm skin. His groin flooded with heat and his body turned rock hard in an instant. Unwilling to push her beyond what she was currently willing to give him, Rafael fought to keep his needs in check. 

Having been with many of the calculating damsels of the court, he knew that Dani was unlike them. She was soft, fragile, small, so precious in his arms. And while she may think herself independent, Rafael wanted nothing more than to hold her close and protect her, as much as he wanted to give her glimpses of what was in store for the night of their wedding. 

Under her dress, he took his time exploring, kneading, caressing her belly, her hips, all the while devouring her mouth. Behind closed eyelids, he smiled to himself when she began to writhe and twist in his hold, virginal madness getting the best of her. 

“Rafael, Rafael,” her voice grew drunk with urgent need. 

When he stroked her at her ore, he was more than pleased to find she was soaked with silky wetness, throbbing under his fingertips with pure female invitation. 

“Dani,” he mumbled against her earlobe, as her took her skirts with his empty hands and raised them higher and higher. “Would you like to watch?”

“NO! I couldn’t.” Her chest heaved. “Don’t make me.”

“Watch me touch you.” he murmured as his fingertips began to circle. “There’s nothing to be ashamed  of, my darling. I only want to fulfill your desires. Watch me pleasure you. Look at how beautiful you are , your sweet body. My wild, virgin love.” 

“Oh , Rafael!” she turned and kissed him ardently. A burning moisture inexplicably rose behind his eyelids, and quickly fled as their kiss ended. 

    He kissed the curve of her neck, moved by his shy uncertainty as she lowered her heat to watch as he touched her, panting slightly. She was so ready, he thought in pure agony as his hardness chafed against her back through their clothes. It would have been easy to take her then and there, on the warm glossy planks of the deck, but her repeatedly shoved that temptation aside, vowing to prove his respect for her by making their wedding night her first time.

        Y/n, too, was panting as she continued to read, her vision growing blurry with pleasure and need. 

    His thumb deftly teased her jeweled center, while his middle finger gently stroked inside her tight, fluid heat ,and as he kissed her ear and the back of her neck.

    Y/n threw the book aside, letting her own hands take the pace it needed to to bring her to her high. HEr slender fingers deftly pumped in and out of her slick hole, the hand that was holding her book now rubbing fast circles against her swollen button.  Wet mewls left her swollen lips, and her chest arched to meet hands that weren't there. The feeling of clenching in her abdomen and a squirming need something increased. 

    She left herself clenching on nothing, pinching her pert nipples with damp fingers as she rubbed faster and harder circles onto her mound. 

    “Fuck, fuck fuck,” she gasped under her breath, a long groan escaping her as she felt it instenifsy; anticipation of water nearly spilling. It hit her like a splash of cold water, her head thrown back against her pillows with her mouth open; a scream and no sound. Her body felt electrifies, her veins fueled by fire. 

    And when it died out,

    She fell back like a ragdoll, limp and tired onto her sheets. Y/n was all droopy eyelids and noodle limbs after her orgasm. 

    She fell back asleep with sticking fingers on top of her red Kool-Aid man t-shirt.

.

.

“... you know what I mean?”

“So… you don’t want a beach theme?” y/n asked. Karime, dressed in another silk dress, but this time in floral red pattern, was having a very hard time identifying the theme she wanted for her Aromatherapy cafe/library. 

“No, but I just want like, beach-y vibes. Airy? Ooopen. Yes, open.” 

“So plants,” Y/n jotted bulleted notes into her planner, in a blank section under ‘Karime’. “White and green color scheme. Open, clear room.” 

The two are standing at Karime’s shop, three streets away from Rockstar; an alarmingly vast space with plain walls and counters. Y/n has a lot of blank canvas to work with, and much to improvise because Karime wasn’t being exact with her vision. She hadn’t even set up a moodboard like she said she was because ‘an LA girl has a wild life you know, hun?’ 

Y/n truly wished she didn’t know. 

“Okay now, what’s your budget?”  she asked, her tone businesslike but full of warmth and interest. 

“Um, how much do you think you’ll need?” Karime wasn’t looking at her, no, she was picking at her cuticles, and pushing them back with her thumbs; her nails had grown and blank space separated the polish from her skin. Karime was across y/n, behind the quick-serve counter where smokey machines and masks where all lined up; one for each stool. 

“Plants are expensive. If you want big and already grown plants, they’re expensive- ranging from $20 to, I don't know… maybe $80?” Y/n taps her pen on her chin. “Furniture, and other wall decor I can craft and thrift, so that right there is maybe $200? $400 tops.” 

“Okay.” Karime said, shrugging her shoulders with a crescent moon smile on her pink lips, “I’ll write you a check for $3,000 to start. I don’t want anything from second-hand like Goodwill or anything like that. I’ll give you addresses to pre-selected antique stores and the likes. Now, you mentioned something about measurements?”

“Yes! Thanks for reminding me,” she’d forgotten all about that, and it truly is a key process in the decor department. “Do you happen to have a measuring tape?”

“Actually, yes. There’s one in the back, I’ll go get it.” Karime pushed herself off the granite table top, and turned on her heel to walk through a golden confetti curtain, leaving y/n seated at the counter.  

For a moment. She fiddled with the tubes coming from the humidifying machine in front of her, an opaque purple bowl with two tubes sticking out from opposite sides that connect to facemasks that cover your mouth. They’re cool to the touch, but warm when her fingers linger. A humming sound emits from the machine when she accidentally presses the start button, and she pushes it again in a panicked state to make it stop. She decides it’s best if she stops messing around with expensive machinery, and instead turns to looking at the small amount of people that are in the shop.  

There’s no one really up and about at 10 in the morning on a Sunday. The few that were, came with laptops to do work in the library section of the shop, with coffees on their tables, or some kind of breakfast, which had to be from somewhere else because Karime didn’t have a menu for food. Just drinks.

One of these really risers, a man who hunched over a sticker covered Mac, looked strangely familiar. Y/n was staring at his choice of clothing (a worn down Brittney Spears shirt with jeans and rolled at the ankles and pristine white vans) when he turned to look at her. It was then, looking onto his dazzling green eyes and watching his taffy pink lips curl into a smile and a hand coming up in a small wave, did y/n recognize that it was the stranger that recognized her Halloween costume a few days ago.  

Cheeks heating with clear embarrassment, y/n raised her own hand and timidly twiddles her fingers. She mouthed hello and tried to keep from cringing when he raised a finger to rub under his nose to hide the way his lips twitch upwards. His nose scrunches and wiggles, and his eyes wrinkle at the corner, a cheeky gleam in his look.

“Y/n!” Karime, reappearing, held a ruler in her hand. A ruler. “This is the best we’ve got, babe.” 

Her head snaps from the familiar stranger to Karime, who smiled as if she’d just solved all their problems when she’d really just created more because measuring with a ruler? Seriously. Y/n curses at herself for forgetting to bring her own measuring tape. 

She has no other option than to nod, smile, and take the ruler, and start taking measurements.  

Like the hand-over-hand motions of steering a car, y/n has to place the ruler, mark where it ends with her nail, and repeat the process again and again. 

The walls, the patio, window space, countertops, tables, and the one she’s dreading to do: the dimensions of the room the stranger is sitting in. Karime’s place was split in two and a half. A small outdoor patio, the man space with tables and machines, and the library lounging space. The library lounge space, a doorway cut into a small cozy room to the left when you walk in. 

    She’d yet to go in there and measure the walls and bookshelves, putting in on to last in hopes that he’d leave because measuring with a ruler is really embarrassing and it’s possible that she’d be shuffling around him. 

God.

    Getting a grip, she pulled her shoulders back and walked into the room, counting how many steps it took to walk through the door frame. She felt like fingers trapped in a Chinese finger trap, constricted. 

Walking into the room, the stranger didn’t look up, instead he looked even more immersed in his work than ever. Eyebrows furrowed and fingers tapping away on his keyboard. He was even leaning into his computer screen, like he couldn’t get whatever it was he needed to type onto the screen fast enough. 

Sure enough, staring at him, lost in whatever it was he was typing, y/n stumbled on her own two feet, and an absurd noise escapes her lips when she tried to catch herself. 

She doesn’t turn to see if he’s looked at her (he did, with a grin that showed off his bunny-like teeth) and instead hangs her head and makes her way to the opposite wall. Great way to be inconspicuous, she thought to herself. 

The wall opposite the stranger, was tall, like the others were. And even though she was sure that it was most likely the same dimensions, she wasn’t going to take any chances. Pulling up a chair so she could stand on it once her arm couldn't reach anymore; huffing because Karime had those really heavy metal chairs that screeched if you didn’t pick them off the floor. Seven feet later, y/n had to step up on the chair, wobbling on her legs while she hiked up, pressing harder on the wooden ruler to make sure it’s place didn’t move.  

Her nail pins into the wall, at the end of the ruler, before using her other hand to move up the start of the ruler where her nail left off. When the ruler reached her hip, y/n stumbled leaned forward and effectively knocked out her balance so she was left flailing, falling, fa- 

Not falling. 

No, not falling, because two hands grip her hips, and pull her back on the chair to make sure she doesn't fall flat on her face. Her eyes are pinched un closed anticipation, waiting for the smashing of knees against the cold, hard floors but it never comes. 

“Gotcha!” says a deep british voice. A warm gust of minty wind flutters in y/n’s nose, and when she opens her eyes. Glittering green eyes, wispy strands of hair, and petal pink lips.

Right. In front. Of her face. 

“Selena, you’ve really got to be more careful,” he says, chuckling as his speaks so his words are broken with sounds of laughter. He’s even lifting her up from her leaned position off of the chair, and settling her down on the floor, biceps tightening and a humming noise coming from his throat as he does so. 

She’s flabbergasted. Doesn’t know what to say because she doesn’t think she’d ever been picked up before. Its ridiculous really, seconds away from eating shit on hard ass surface and all she can think about is how she was picked up. But jeez, who could blame her, the man was hot. 

    All sharp jawline, clavicles peeking out of his shirt, and the column of his throat such a nice pretty color. Quite handsome, really. 

    “Shit,” y/n finally manages to get out, her eyes wide, shoulders tense, and instinctively, her fingers are digging into his shoulders (though she’s not aware of it yet).  

    “You alright?” The man says, when he notices the way she’s gone rigid. He doesn’t say anything about the way her fingers are gripping at him.

    “Uhm, yes. I am now. Thank you…” Y/n’s voice comes out in breathy spurts, and her forehead glistens like she’s just run to catch the bus. That’s when she noticed where her fingers were placed; the way the white cloth dipped in from the amount of pressure she was exerting onto his skin. Cheeks turning a darker pink, she cleared her throat and avoided looking at him when she removed her hands. 

    “Harry” He mumbled. “My name’s Harry. Yours? Not quite sure if it’s Selena or not…”  

    “HA!” A loud exclamation, a bit too loud that it was awkward. “No. Not Selena. Y/n.” She looked into his eyes them, raising her chin the last inch to move from Brittney Spears face to his eyes. Eyes the color of light streaming through a tree leaves in a forest on a spring forest. Y/n sucks in a breath.

    “Well, wonderful to meet you, y/n.” He leans towards her, a ringed finger pointing jeeringly at the stick still in her hands. “I gotta say, measuring with a ruler?” 

    “Very efficient. As you can see,” She shakes the hand the ruler is in, and then uses the ruler to point at the seemingly innocent metal chair “You should try it sometime.”

    “Only if you catch me.” Harry grabs his own wrists behind his back, his shoulders hunching forwards and head shaking side to side a bit as his speaks. 

    It takes a moment for her to drink in what he’s said, to fully react with a scoff and a smile. “Catch you? I’ll hold you up on my shoulder’s myself.” 

“Then we’ll both end up sprawled on the floor, all roughed up and bruised.”

They both laugh at their jokes, and Harry even goes as far as to clap his jean clad knee. When it gets quiet, their laughs dying down, Harry speaks again.

“Saw you in the paper. Helped decorate Rockstar didn’t you?” 

Y/n’s jaw drops. Her lips opening and closing like a fish eating crumbs at the water’s surface. “The paper? What paper?” This was news to her. She was aware that the article James would write would be like, online or something. But a physical paper. That’s a little bigger. And him having remembered. Having identified her. 

“The local paper. WeHoVille.” He quirked an eyebrow at her, one side of his lips pulling up in a confused manner. “Was picking up a sleepy time tea and honey at the Wholefoods, and you painting was a feature next to the counter. Didn’t show your face, but I walked past that day and remembered.” 

    “The paper… wow. I didn’t know. But yes,”Y/n twirls the ruler on in circles with her fingers, putting all her weight on one hip so on of her feet could tap loosely on the floor. “I decorated Rockstar.” After a beat, “What’d you think about it?”

    “The place is amazin’!” A strand of Harry’s hair flops down to the space between his eyebrows and eyelashes, tickling his skin. He had to brush his fingers through his hair to comb it back.  “Love the feel of it. Gotta stop myself from going in everyday or might blow all my money on Stevie’s usual.”

    “That’s my favorite too! Next time you’re there, give me a wave down and I’ll have you covered.” Y/n’s offers had Harry’s eyebrows raised in seconds. “Least I could do, given you saved me from a concussion and all that.” She tried to explain, words coming out in a flurry from her mouth. 

He chuckles at her flustered stare, the same repressed smirk that he’d given her when he caught her staring. “I’ll definitely keep that in mind.” Silence and then, “What do you plan on doing with the place?” 

“Turn it into a greenhouse,” y/n said bluntly. The two were still standing next to the wall y/n was measuring, and Harry leaned one of his shoulders against it, moving his hands from behind his back to his front, wrapping one around the other one’s wrist.

    “That’ll be nice. Even more uh, how do you say, therapeutic? I guess more relaxing than the place already is. Karime said plants?” He asked. It didn’t quite settle with y/n that he knew Karime on a first name basis, that he was interested in knowing she picked plants, and she wanted so badly to say: Karime doesn’t know what she wants, but instead pushes that feeling away and goes with,

    “Well, she gave me a scope to work with. A color scheme. A gist. Certain decorations she wanted to see. So on and so on. Plants is just what I took from it. And it goes with her place because it has to deal with aromatherapy and all that. What do you think?”

    “I think you’ve hit it right on. Can’t wait to see what it’ll look like.” He raps a knuckle on the wall. “Did you still need wall measurements? I’ll hold you so you don’t fall again.” 

    Timidly, she responds, “Okay.”

    “Up you get, then.” Harry pointed to the chair, and y/n raises her leg to hike up, this time with Harry’s hands placed on her hips, steadying her. 

    A tiny dash on the wall where her nail slid off marks where she was at when she nearly fell off the metal chair, and this is where she places the ruler. She left off at 7 feet, the ruler at her hip. Resuming the same positions, she starts to wobble again, and Harry's hands tight, holding her straight. 

    She guesses he hears her gasp when she feels herself wobble because he says “I’ve gotcha.” 

    Y/n moved the ruler up one, two, and three more times, and then her arm can’t stretch anymore and pinches one eye closed to cry and guess how many more feet are left. She guessed four… ish. On a whim, she tries to push the ruler up once more, and her shirt rides up on the left side of her hips. Warm sequential breaths hit her skin, and a shiver drops down her spine when she realizes what’s happened. 

    Harry, ever the gentleman, doesn’t waste a second, and slides his pointer and middle finger over her skin, his warm fingers splaying over goosebumps to pinch her shirt and pull it down for her. 

    “All done,” she squeaks. “Coming back down.” 

    Harry released her, but offers her a hand and she takes it, holding on to his as she comes down, his palms warm and rings cool; a nice contrast. 

    “Thank you so much for h-”

    “Y/n?” 

    Booth Harry and y/n tun to the doorway that leads to the main room, where Karime stands with a checkbook in her hands. Y/n turns back to look at Harry. The curls behind his ears, the blonde hairs on his top lip. He turns to look at her, and gives her a closed lip smile. She smiles back and twiddles her fingers, mouthing a bye bye.

    Karime walks away when she sees that y/n is following her, and takes them both back to their position on the counter. 

   “Here’s the check. Two thousand dollars. Deposit it into your account, and use it for gas, furniture, anything that has to do with Aromareads you can pull from this.” She opens the book and tears out the slip of paper. “I will need receipts. And your name?” 

   Karime glances up at y/n, only to see that she’s busy looking back through the door frame at Harry. The manager is slightly irked at the fact that the person she’s hiring to reshape her business isn’t paying attention, but following her line of gaze, Karimer can’t blame her. Harry, a usual in her store, is a very very handsome man. Towering, with broad back and a neck Karime would love to bite into if she wasn’t gay. He sat at his laptop, thighs spread and eyes hard and stern, pondering with a pout. Karime is sure that what caught my/n’s attention is the way Harry’s thighs and crotch looked at that very moment, enticing, strong, sensual. 

    Clearing her throat, “Y/n. I need a full name to address the check.”

    Y/n’s neck snaps towards Karime, her hair getting caught on her lips at her velocity. “Uh- yes, sorry it’ll be Y/n Y/l/n.” 

    Karime repeated her name, and asked for her to spell it, which she did while stuttering mildy. 

    “Here you go.” Clicking her pen against the marble countertop, Karime handed the check to y/n. “Listen, by no means do I wanna pressure you, but if you could get this down before the holidays are in full force, I would love that.” 

    “Oh, don’t worry. It won’t take me that long.” 

    .

    .

    And it definitely didn’t. 

    On Monday, y/n spent the entire day (and part of her night) driving to most of the places Karime had sent her through a text. She spent a few minutes googling the places and looking through the pictures that came up and cursing every time it would redirect her to yelp- because really who has yelp? The antique stores were all spread out in the Los Angeles area.

    There was one in Long Beach. The pictures showed a really big warehouse with chair lying on top of each other and tables littered with little statues and the likes. Here she bought baskets. Tons of them. Gus (the owner) has dedicated an entire isle to them. When he saw y/n’s cart, the laughed then asked her “Why dolly, whadda ya need all them baskets for?” And when she told him it was for business, he offered her coupons and package deals. 

    “Tell ya what,” he scratched the scruff on his chin, the only hair he had because he was bald, “You buy all these baskets,” he pointed to her cart, “I’ll give you a twenty pa’cent discount on ya purchase, and if ya want, you can pick anathin’ ya want from over there because no one wants tuh buy them.” Then he pointed to a pile of books that lay haphazardly next to a stove and a turquoise refrigerator. She paid one hundred and fifty.

    She walked out with wicker baskets, one being a picnic basket she snatched for herself, lined nicely with red patterned cloth and a lid for it to close, and that same picnic basket full of regency novels from the 90’s.

    There was another in Laguna. A beachside thrift shop, where she paid for (very overpriced) frames of painted lighthouses and beach landscapes for that ‘beach’ factor Karime wanted. By this time, she drove back towards Hollywood to drop the items back at Aromareads because her car was getting full. She didn’t go inside, just unloaded the tings in the back and Karime took them inside. If she had, she would’ve seen Harry.

    Y/n then took to the shops in the downtown area. One being, a swapmeet type place where you walked through and looked at all the furniture. They set up different sections for different themes. Victorian, regal, animal skin themed, and a hall full of mirrors. Y/n bought a large 8x8 mirror for five hundred dollars. It would be delivered the following day.

    One of the sections was retro-themed, and she snapped a picture of a hip-height lava lamp and sent it to Lucy. Lucy then proceded to beg y/n through to text to please buy that I fucking need it. Will pay u back. So she bought it; $100 that she knew would be no big deal for Lucy given all the business she had. 

    Her final stop, were the flowers and plants district. There, she placed a large order for 30 succulents, and an assortment of nearly 100 leafy plants to fill the baskets with. She blew $1,000 there. 

    By the end of the day, she’d wasted nearly all of Karime’s check; a measly two hundred remaining after she refilled her car with gas (give or take some). Y/n met with Karime at around 6, in the back parking lot again, and left everything she’d bought. 

    “Oh! And the mirror should be delivered tomorrow before closing time.” 

    Karime was wearing a caramel turtle neck and black slacks tucked into latex ankle boots, her hair pinned back and tied into a spiky ponytail. Her ears were adorned with pearl earrings, and her fingers were jammed into golden rings. Y/n felt embarrassed in her measly purple jumper and paint splattered mom jeans.  Her accessories consisted of a fanny pack full of nails and a hammer at her waist.

    “Good, good. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow-” Karime was already turning back and returning into the shop when Y/n said:

    “Actually I was hoping I could start now.” Her words lifted into a question at the end, half suggesting half stating. 

    Karime’s face morphed into one of confusion and surprise, but in the end she agreed, and told y/n to do as she pleased.

Upon first entering, y/n is disoriented. 

    She walks into a frenzy of… nothing. It’s like an industrial kitchen, but completely empty. Occupied only by the things she had brought in. She remembers that she walked into the back and not the front, and it made sense because Karime doesn’t offer anything that would require use of the kitchen. Everything she has is done at the bar by the barista outside. 

    Karime leaves y/n in the back, where she asses her items. The baskets. The frames. And well, that’s really all there is. It would be more with all the plants coming in. She realizes that she doesn’t really have much to work with and there really isn’t much to do than hang picture frames, and there’s only five of them. 

    Nonetheless, she goes outside with the first frame in hand. A soft blue painting of a lighthouse on an island with light from a hole in a cloudy sky shining on the building. When she picked this one up, she knew exactly where it would go. By the wall next to the sliding door that lead to the patio. She sauntered over to the spot then, dodging a woman on her boyfriend on her way there. It was packed, and rightfully (it was a tuesday).

    She reached the spot, and lifted the picture on the wall, lifting and tilting so it would fit naturally. Eventually, she found the sweet spot, and reached for the hammer she had stuck into her belt loop and the box of nails she’d placed into the fanny pack on her waist. 

    Without hesitation, she put the first nail on the wall, and started banging. Three taps in, and she hung the wire on the nail, balancing it so it looked the way she envisioned it. After she was done, y/n stepped back to admire her handiwork, and tilted her head to the side the way one does when their looking at a picture that’s upside down. 

    Perfect. 

    She walked around the shop then, with the purpose of noticing empty spots on the walls, anything that could be filled up with artistry. The simple tables? No they had to stay that way. Placing something on the tables would clutter them and tarnish the ‘relax’ mode people came in for. The window that faced the street? Yes. Y/n planned on lining them with hanging droopy plants on the edges, not obscuring but not leaving a clear view either. She’d have to buy shelves to place baskets on the walls. Hooks to hang them. This she would do with what was left from the check.

     Yet… something was missing. The alternative-ness she knew should be there. Something ‘hippie’ and ‘aesthetic’, off the minimalist side of things. 

    Looking into a corner where the walls met, a light bulb went off. She knew exactly what was missing. Letters. Y/n had seen an image on Pinterest not even less than a month ago. A picture of a string of letters. Or rather, a message. It said something along the lines of  ‘You are my light’ or something edgy like that. Each word had been hand cut and strung onto a piece of- she didn’t know, string? Tweed? A wire?- and hung in a corner of a room where walls met. It knocked off every box on the checklist. Minimalist. Crafty. Aesthetic. And cheap, considering how low the money was.

She knew she’d have to brainstorm phrases and pass them by Karime, but she’d worry about that later.

    .

    .

    It was Friday. One day after the plants had been delivered, and y/n was set to work full force. Sure, she’d have to work amongst customers, but no matter. It would get done. 

    She started in the back. With the plants. 

    Y/n had bought a plastic-type lining at the Home Depot to place soil in the baskets. She lined then all first, securing the material with tape around the edges. After, came the transfer and placement. She decided this would be a better method, and if there were extras she could have Karime sell them. This way, she wouldn’t overcrowd the place and stop when she saw an adequate fill of green. 

    The first, a circular basket with no handle the color of a waffle cone. Because it was one that would go on a shelf, she placed one of the droopiest plants in it, a green stream of vines and shrubby leaves.

    Last night, y/n had given Karime the benefit of the doubt, and allowed her to place shelves where she’d liked them So, before she opened at 7, Karime had decorated her store with wooden slabs for y/n to decorate. Taking the first plant, she walked out. 

   As expected, Aromareads was bustling with energy.     Women with mojitos in their hands, burnt out college kids hooked up to masks, older men and women laughing like tinkling bells. 

   She’s walking towards the first row of shelves she sees on the wall across from her, besides the sliding doors, basket held gingerly with both hands, when she hears:

   “Y/n!” 

   Looking to her left, she sees a sleepy, just-rolled-out-of-bed looking Harry. He’s wearing a black hoodie with the words ‘Treat people with kindness’ in a gradient rainbow color, and… and grey sweatpants. Grey. Sweatpants. 

   Grey sweatpants. 

   Y/n tries not to visibly swallow him whole as he walks towards her with an innocent smile on his face because god if she isn’t all hot and bothered right now. Her eyes seem to be magnetically attracted to his crotch, trying but failing to grasp and image of what may be lying underneath. 

“H-hey, Harry,” she smiles at him meekly, her voice cracking when she speaks. She cleared her throat and said again, “hey, Harry. S’nice to see you.” 

   “Nice to see you too.” He bows his head towards her, and endearing mannerism that has y/n’s heart pooling down to her ribcage. “I see you’ve brought out the green guns today.” A teasing grin on his extra red and shiny lips. Perhaps it was chapstick. It was rather windy outside.

   “You see correctly.” She giggles at his joke, at the same time, rolling her eyes at how cheesy he was being. “Today’s the day it all comes together.” 

“I’m excited to see how it all turns out. Don’t go falling on any chairs today alright?” He wags his finger at her, mocking a mother shunning her child.

“I’ll try not to. But if I do-” she said, coquettishly. 

“I’ll catch you.” 

“You better.” Laughing at him, she repeats his actions and lifts her finger up to point at him. 

   With a final laugh and a shake of his head, Harry walks away and into the working room. 

   Y/n watches him walk off, and walks off her own way as well, resting the basket against her hip as she went. When she reached the wall with shelves arranged in a checkered pattern, she placed the basket on top of the wooden plank, and tufted leaves so they look naturally messily placed. Unintentionally intentional; they way one teases their hair so it looks nice. 

   She went back to her work station: the now full kitchen, and repeated the process. Picked a basket, filled it with a plant, and took it outside. She left the hooks for last, wanting to leave of being in the way of people until she had too. Almost effortlessly, y/n filled Karime’s space with greenery. Cacti on shelves, large leaves and vines on walls, frames of beach paintings on nails. Once, she pricked her finger because her it had accidentally slipped inside the glass globe in which the succulent was in. 

    When the time finally came to walk into the room Harry was in, the outside was looking rather… forest-y. She liked the way it looked; a calm type of chaos. One that showed relaxation and no care for anything. Which was the point of the entire place. Come in. Relax. Breathe in from diffusers to get that extra push to decompress.

   Harry sat in his usual spot, directly in spot of the doorway, in one of the middle tables. Hunched over his computer with fingers flying over his keyboard. He had earphones in this time, white buds tucked right into his ears, stray strands of hair looping and covering them. His lips were placed in a puckered pout, the scrunched pink skin twitching from left to right.

    Humming to herself, y/n forces herself to walk past him, forces herself to not turn back and glance at Harry even if she can feel his gaze burning into her back. She makes it seem like the hook and plant in her hand are the most interesting things in the world. Turning it over in her fingers, and even going as far as to lift the basket (this on with a handle and curved bowl bottom) to her nose and smell it. 

    “Need a hand with that?” Harry says from behind her. She feels his presence from behind her, standing close enough that she can feel when he reaches to her front and takes the basket from her hands.  Y/n’s heart starts beating as fast as a hummingbird's wings. Closing her eyes to get a hold of herself, all she sees is green. Green, the color of his eyes.

   “Yes, please.” Her voice is small, shy.

    Harry, feeling bold, nudged the tip of his nose on the hair behind her ear. Enough to make her notice, but not enough to make her completely sure that it was there. “Where do you want it?” He says, breath hot on the shell of her ears. Her eyes widen, and her body goes on full alert. She’s suddenly aware of the closeness of his hips on hers, the brushing of the fabric on her the back of her hand.

    “Up…” Y/n steps forward, towards the wall. She places her finger on the smooth surface, and traces it over to where she wants it, doing loopty-loops to her desired spot. “...here.”

  He places the nail on the wall, hits it with the hammer that y/n gives him and hooks the basket as well. He turns to her when he’s done.

  “Got any more?” He asks, placing a hand on his hip.

  “Yeah, in the back. Wanna come help me?” Y/n points with a thumb to the doorway, half of her body turning as well.   

    “Lead the way.” 

    So they leave together to the backroom, y/n holding open the golden curtain for Harry to walk through. He looks around endearingly, his neck stretching and eyes darting from place to place as he takes in his surroundings. Y/n is stuck at the expression on her face, her heart strings pulling when her ears listen to the soft giggle that escapes his lips.

So they leave together to the backroom, y/n holding open the golden curtain for Harry to walk through. He looks around endearingly, his neck stretching and eyes darting from place to place as he takes in his surroundings. Y/n is stuck at the expression on her face, her heart strings pulling when her ears listen to the soft giggle that escapes his lips.

    “S’very nice back here.” 

    “Wanna grab a few baskets? Place ‘em in the lounge?” 

    “Sure thing.” Harry wraps his hand around the handle of three baskets at the same time, and with the other, he grabs the still-packaged hooks and wait for y/n by the doorway. She hurried to grab two succulents, and met Harry at the doorway. They had an awkward moment of deciding who’s going first. A huffle of backwards and forwards until eventually, Harry held his palm out to allow her to go through while biting his lip. Y/n ducked her head and felt the tips of her ears go warm. 

    “So, I tried Elton John yesterday.” He said, trailing behind y/n into the lounge like a little puppy. If he had a tail, it’d be wagging. 

    “Oh? How was it?” She replied, juggling the two glass casings in her hand, and then pricking herself again. She flinches, but doesn’t make any noises. 

    “Think I might have a new favorite,” he said, bashfully ducking his own head and peeking at her through his hair. Her heart fluttered, and if it could, she was sure it would bust out with the dreamy sighs she suppressed.

    “It’s that serious?” She asked. 

    “It’s that serious.” They reach the lounge, and y/n sets the succulents she carries in her hands down on a table.  “Have you had it yet?” Her stretches her hands out to Harry, signaling for him to give her his items. 

    “No, not yet. Should probably give it a try if its changed your mind. Can you pass me a hook?”  Harry gives her all four packages he holds in his one hand. When she wraps her hand around them, her finger brushes against the chubby part of his hand. 

    “Here you go- I only drank it ‘coz like, I’m on this diet thing and needed a drink with oat milk in it. Elton’s was the first one I saw. Woke me right up, too.” 

    “Diet you say?” y/n took the hammer and walked over to her desired stop, a few feet away from the one Harry had put in. 

    “Some altered version of keto. Had a really bad bug, had me feeling icky and ‘just decided it was the best.” He takes place next to her, watching as she positioned the nail and hit it a few times with the hammer. He held out a basket on his finger when she was done. She was a whirlwind, he thought. Busy little bee, never stopping. Harry nearly feels bad because she’s so full of energy, bouncing back from the table to the wall and arranging plants before he could even blink. “S’not fair. Not letting me do any work.” A pout appears on his lips, eyes teasing.

    “You just stand there and look pretty. I’ve-” she points to herself, finger at her chin. “Got this.” 

    Harry grumbles something that she doesn’t catch with his chin tucked into his neck. 

“What was that?’ she hums. 

    “‘Said, can’t exactly be pretty ‘coz you took that job too.” 

    Y/n’s hands still. Immediately, she feels her chest grow red roses blooming on her cheeks. She’s not exactly… embarrassed, per say. No. The familiar feeling of ants running wildly in her lower stomach began to burn, her ribcage tickling as butterflies try to creep out with beating wings. Pretty. He had called her pretty. 

    “Uhm, thank you?” 

    “You’re very welcome, darling.” His tone of voice is smug. And when she looks over at him with eyebrows raised, he’s biting his lip and his looking at her through his eyelashes like he had before, but there was no childish play in it this time. 

    “Say,” she picks up a succulent. “What’s it with you?” 

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” He shrugs.

“Lovin’ all up on me.”  She puts the succulent back down.

“S’nothing wrong with lovin’ all up on a pretty girl.”

There it is again. Pretty girl. Y/n is on fire her entire face pink, color concentrated on her cheeks and nose as if she had taken a walk in the brisk wind. 

“Stop it,” she said. 

Harry’s face turns concerned, brows kissing and lines appearing on his forehead. “Am I making you uncomfortable?” All work is forgotten, and instead they stand facing each other. 

“No! No, no,” Y/n’s eyes widen and her hands waving back and forth to eradicate the thought of her being disturbed by him. “S’just,” she sighs. “Not used to it, is all.”

Upon hearing this, Harry’s face breaks into a smile. “Well then,” he starts. “Better get used to it.” 

“Oh, you.” She playfully slaps his shoulder and picks up the succulent again, this time actually going to put it on a shelf adjacent to the window; a little alcove Karime has placed in a weird spot.

“When do you get a break?” 

“I think I get to take it whenever I want, why?”     “Wanna head down to Rockstar? Craving a Madonna right about now.”

“Never pegged you as a Madonna guy,” (the Madonna was a sweet caramel iced coffee with whipped cream and chocolate chips; not actually what Madonna would drink, and the beverage itself being one of the few inaccurate ones). “Let me finish with this, and I’ll let Karime know.”

So she did, much faster with Harry’s help. He handed her nails, hooks, and the plants she asked for. He asked if he could leave his stuff in the back, and he followed her back there once again, ticking his bag into an empty cupboard next to y/n’s things. On her way out, she said a quick goodbye to Karime who she was sure didn’t even hear what she said. 

Harry and her walked the short block side by side, with him playfully knocking his shoulder into hers and smiling like a mushy schoolboy when she pushed him back. They made small talk about drinks and the weather, shoulders hunched up and chins tucked in because it was a little cold.   Y/n’s frayed highschool sweater wasn’t doing much to keep her warm, and she had half the wind to pull her hood up the way Harry had his. 

Looking over at his, his nose was going a bit raw. Pink and the skin around it a little pale. By the time he noticed she was looking at him, they’d reached Rockstar, and he was opening the door for her. Murmuring a small thank you she walked through, and stepped to the side to wait for him to step inn as well, given he’d held the door open for the few people that had been walking behind him as well. From inside, she could see him nodding and smiling at everyone who stepped in. 

“You wanna grab a table and I’ll get the drinks?” she says to him when he appears next to her with hands in his hoodie pocket; she’s craning her neck to meet his eyes.

    “Sure. I’ll be in the records?” He takes one hand out to point over to where the records are.

    “Okay.” Y/n nods and head to the counter, where Lucy is busy taking someone’s order. She only see y/n when she walks behind the person and makes a silly face at her. Lucy laughs, but continues taking the order, and y/n pushes through the doors to put on an apron and make her and Harry’s drink. 

“Well if it isn’t y/n!” Says Kim.

“Y/n! Girly its been forever,” Kelsey bumps her hip when y/n get to work alongside her at the steaming machine.  

“Yes, yes, I know. Missed my favorite baristas.” she giggles, bumping her hip a little harder and making Kelsey gasp in faint shock. “Where’s Tilly?”

“Called in sick. Poor think could barely speak.” replied Kelsey. Y/n hummed a response, and made her drink first, a hot chocolate, and set it to the side to allow it to cool down meanwhile she made Harry’s. When Kelsey noticed her reaching for another measuring cup after just making her own she says,

“Two drinks?”

“Got a friend waiting for me in the records.” Y/n explained, pumping an extra pump of caramel into the cup. She puts in less ice too, and extra chocolate chips and whipped cream. 

    “The records…” Kelsey craned her neck out of where customers pick of their drinks to peek tp the records section. “Wait, wait, the one in the hood?”     “Yep,” said y/n, unbothered as she capped Harry’s drink.

    “Y/n!” Kelsey hissed, “He’s hot!” 

    “Yes, Kelsey, I am aware.” Y/n rolls her eyes and picked up both drinks, turning on her heels to walk out but nearly bumps into Kim, who stood not even an inch away from her. She backs up instantly.

    “So are you and he a thing?” He asked, leaning in closer to y/n’s face,his breath smelling on the ramen he always ate during his lunch break. 

    Y/n, uncomfortable by his closeness, tried walking around him but he stepped to the side. “It’s none of your business Kim.”

    “You never accept my dates, but you’ll accept his?” Kim’s tone is angry, and when he takes a step towards her, Kelsey steps in front of her.

    “Kim, leave her alone.” Kelsey says, turning back to y/n and nodding her head in the direction y/n was heading. When she pushes past the swinging doors, she catches a bits of what Kelsey says to him in a harsh whisper, “just wait until Lucy hears about this.” 

    “Haarryy,” Y/n says in a sing-song voice, dodging people as she makes her way to the records. Harry’s standing with  a record in his hand, legs spread apart and leaning back a bit with  his other hand tucked into his opposite armpit. “Here’s your John.” 

    Harry takes the plastic cup from her, giggling as he looks at her. 

    “What’s so funny?” she asks, genuinely confused.

    “Still wearing your apron,” Harry wraps his lips around the straw, tongue poking out to lap at it and take it into his mouth as y/n tries really hard not to stare.

    Looking down at herself, y/n shrugs, and leaves it on, taking a seat on the nearest loveseat and wrapping her now empty hand around the warm cup. 

    “What did you get?” He asked her. 

    “Willy wonka.” She brings the cup to her lips, tilting it up slowly and her mouth waters when she catches the scent of the foaming chocolate. Harry takes a seat next to her, his thigh touching her jean-clad one. He sits with them spread, leaning back in an eased position, and y/n eyes jump down to the bunched grey fabric at his crotch. And… well, there’s a larger than normal bulge through the fabric, drawstrings bending over the imprint, and y/n chokes on her drink. Some of it sputters out onto her apron. 

    “Still hot?” She nods. “ Gotta be careful, love. Who picked the names?”

    Y/n looks over at him, head tilting to the side with eyes squinting. “Picked what?”

    The cloudy skylight streamed in softly, casting a soft grey glow on Harry’s side profile. “The names for the drinks. Who picked them?” He holds his drink in one hand, straw near his face so all he had to do was maneuver his wrist to the plastic tube was in his mouth. 

    “Lucy did. Well, for most of them. I picked Andre 3000, Madonna, Willy Wonka and made the drinks myself. They’re not accurate though.” She sipped from her drink. “The rest of them are.” 

    “How much of this decor did you do? Like, concepts and stuff.” Harry takes out the tucked hand to wave around, and then tucks it back in. 

    “Concepts? Hmm…” she trails off for a moment. “All of them. I don’t want to say that I made this place myself, because I wouldn’t have done it without Lucy’s guidelines, but I went out, bought the furniture. Everything you see me doing at Karime's, I did here… ‘cept Karime’s is just plants and this,” she waves around her in a gesture and leaves it at that.

    “Do you decorate apartments?” He asked.

    “W-what?” Y/n, in the middle of a sip, and very surprised at his question, stuttered at his 

    “‘Coz mine’s looking kinda bland right now, was thinking maybe you could help me put some life into it.” 

    “Harry, I-”

    “Kinda like the Rockstar vibes, but like, a little less on the trendy side? I dunn-” Harry isn’t looking at her, his eyes wandering and landing on everything but her. 

    “Harry.” she said a little more sternly, putting a stop to his little rant. He looked at her then, his expression  unreadable. “I’m not sure you want me to help you decorate your home.”

    “Why not? You’d be helping me is all, and I love the way you’ve made Aromatherapy and Rockstar look.” He licks his lips, moving his head to the side and bringing the straw into his mouth with his tongue (that y/n stare at for longer than necessary).

    “But it’s your home.”

    “I am aware. Help me make it more me.” He shifts his body towards her then, his knee bending so he chest is to her. “Please?” He makes the face Puss in Boots made in that one movie, y/n couldn’t remember then because Harry looked much cuter than that dumb cat did.

    Y/n tosses this idea around in her head. Helping Harry decorate his home. She was scared, not only because Harry was cute, but because home was a personal and private space to be calm and safe. What if she screwed it all up and then Harry was uncomfortable in his own home? What is she did such a shit job that, that- well such a bad job that a horrible result came out of it again. This thing with Harry, a budding friendship? She barely knew the guy, just that he had an affinity for showering her with compliments and he made her turn more red than that really bad sunburn she got in the 10th grade after she refused to put on sunblock on a trip to a pool resort. What her point was, is that decorating someone’s home- a place where the heart is pure- is a really big job. 

    “Of course, this would be after you’re done with Karime’s place. Don’t wanna stress you out or anything like that.” A nike shoe, white and crisp looking like it had come straight out of the box, pressed into his thigh when he wrapped a hand around his ankle and pulled his bent leg in tighter.  “Whadda ya say?”

After hemming and hawing a few times, y/n finally says, “Okay. But you’re gonna have to be one million times more specific okay?” She elbows him, his position causing her elbow to poke at his pec instead of his bicep, and y/n elbows into hard muscle. 

    “Heyyy, can’t go hurting the girls now,” He rubs over where he poked her, and pouts childishly, even going as far as sticking his tongue out at her. “Do you need to head back? I don’t wanna get you into any trouble, y/n.”     The use of her name makes her heart skip a beat. “Yes, we should probably get going.” She moves to get up, and accidentally places her hand on Harry’s thigh. Before she would say sorry for touching him, he says,

    “Alway using me to hold yourself, huh? Sneaky thing, I see what you’re doin.” 

    “You offered! Said it yourself, I’ll hold you so you don’t fall again,” she deepened her voice, and faked a british lilt as best she could. 

    “I do not sound like that,” He whined. 

    He got up right after her, grabbing her hand to ‘pull’ himself back up, but he was really just holding it. His hand was cooler than hers (because he’d used the hand that had been holding his iced coffee) and enormous around hers. If he tried, he could close his finger tips and they’d be overlapping. When he was fully stood up, he reached around her neck, and lifted the black strap over her head, transfering the cloth over to the hand that held his cup, and then reaching again, this time around her waist to undo the knot. His front, not even a full step away from hers, and y/n got a whiff of detergent and something else she could only describe as ‘clean man’. If she were a shark, this would’ve been the moment her eyes turned black and rolled to the back of her head. 

    “There you go, no longer look like a little barista.” He hung the apron over he shoulder, and walked alongside her to the exit. Y/n split from him for a short second to return the apron, but then resumed her place next to him and they walked out together. She was hyper alert the entire way, taking notice of when their hands brushed, or when he pressed his bicep against hers. They walked a little stumbly, walking against each other almost. Had it been Lucy, she would’ve already yelled at y/n, and y/n would’ve walked near the sidewalk to avoid bumping into her again. But Harry?

Harry takes it like a champ. Giggling and pressing back against her, and he even placed her on the inside of the sidewalk when she walked to the side closest to the passing cars. 

    “So, tell me.” He starts, tossing his empty cup at a recycling bin as they waited for the light. “What kind of premeditated preparations should I take to be- as you said- extra specific?”

    Y/n still nurtures her cup in her hands, the coffee lid resting on her bottom lip. “Moodboards. Magazine scraps. Room inspiration on pinterest. Make a list of things you like. Anything really.  Anything that you like and would like to see in your apartment. Also, you need a budget.” 

    “Don’t worry ‘bout a budget. I’ll work on everything else. You want it done by a certain day?” He asked, gallantly placing a hand on the small of her back as they crossed the street.

    “Preferably within the next week or two. I’m pretty much done with Karime.” She straightens up when she feels Harry’s hand on her, a warm feeling spreading from where he pressed, unlike the nastiness Kim made her feel. 

    They’re three shops down when he said, “Gotta give me your number so I can send you everything then. You can keep me updated and I’ll keep you updated.” They pass by a tree whose branch is just low enough to graze Harry’s head, and it hooks onto the hood on his head, effectively pulling it back as he walks through. His hair looks incredibly soft. Wispy strands the color of the drink in her hands, billowing up and around his face, a ringlet falling in front of his right eye. 

    He licks his lips, using his fingers to push his hair back and raise the hoodie over his hair again. HE looks over at her as he does, waiting for her response. 

    “Oh, oh, yes. Sure thing. Got your phone on you?” Harry jams his hand into his pocket and pulls out his phone, the latest model, sleek and looking incredibly small in his hands. He placed it into her outstretched palm, unlocked but not on the contact app. Y/n has to swipe through shamefully, scared he’s gonna think that she’s snooping. She puts her number under ‘y/n :)’. 

    “Thanks, love.” He took the phone from her, his fingers sliding against the back of her hand. He hisses when he does so, saying, “Y/n your hands are so cold,” and then proceeds to take her hand and squeeze it between his own two. 

    She giggles sweetly, “Aye! Trynna hold my hand now?” she teased. 

    “No, trying to hold your hand would be this,” He grabs her hand with one, and lets it wall between them. They walk into AromaReads like that, with him holding her hand and the both of them laughing like they’d heard the funniest thing in the world. 

    Karime, standing at the counter and welcoming everyone as they come in, catches y/n’s eye and she smiles at herself knowingly. Y/n shakes her head while still laughing with Harry, and they both head to the back. Harry to get his stuff, and y/n to continue her job. Just when he’s walking between the isle and cabinets, his phone dings and he takes it out, his jaw dropping and palm slapping his forehead. 

    “SHIT! I completely forgot. I have a lunch meeting with my friend today. Fuck,” Y/n, this being the first time she hears swear words coming out of his mouth, rases her eybrow at him and chuckles. “I’m so sorry. I wanted to keep helping you, but-”

    She raises her hand, silencing him. “You do what you have to do. This is my job anyway. Just don’t forget to text me.” Basket handles fill her hands, wicker patterns pressing into her pals, and she tucks one of the last two frames under her hand too. 

    “I won’t. In fact, I’ll do that right now.” He types into the phone that’s still in his hand, and a few seconds later Y/n’s back pocket buzzes and chimes. She doesn’t pull it out to check. “Now you can text me if I forget.” He says finally, swinging his satchel over his shoulder.

“Bye, sweetheart!” He called out, turning back over to smile at her. Y/n’s  lips pulled up at the corners, gazing at him with a certain look in her eye as he walked out. 

    “Sweetheart, huh?” Karime stepped into her direct line of vision, snapping y/n out of the daydream in her head where she’s the housewife and Harry her husband leaving to work, calling out bye, sweetheart! as he walked out the door. 

    Karime’s looking at her with a smirk and a single pointy eyebrow raise. 

    God, what had she gotten herself into?

    .

    .

    Y/n had saved Harry under “H.”

   And received a text from him that same night.

    She’d been in her bathtub with cucumbers on her eyes when she heard her phone chime. Chin pointed upwards and wrists perched on the edges of her porcelain basin, she lay unbothered and unmotivated to even move. Arms aching and the soles of her feet tired from walking from place to place and lifting she did at Karime’s earlier that day. Tealight candles were the only source of light in the tiny bathroom, a soft yellow glow cascading on the skin of her neck.  The valley of her breast peaked out everytime she took a breath, her mind drifting off into thoughts of green eyes and warm hands, all she’d been able to think about that day.

    She planned on staying there 30 more minutes, but her phone dinged again. After she thought it was the two minute thing the phone does after receiving a message, but when it dinged again, she huffed from her nose and removed the soggy cucumber sliced off of her eyes. Should’ve turned off my phone, she thought to herself, grabbing the towel she left on the toilet seat across from the tub, and wrapping it around her torso. The phone screen a blaring white light in contrast to the dimness of the candles. 

    Y/n, eyes cloudy with sleep and limbs saggy with fatigue, is very much surprised to see that next to the app icon on the display screen, is ‘H.’ Hey eyes pop out of her head at the realization, and her heart shakes up the fatigue to beat up a storm for the boy she’d been thinking about all day since he’d left her. 

Standing in her bathroom, on bare tiles with water still dripping on her, it hit her full force. She liked Harry. Liked the way his cheek squished against his shoulder when he shrugged. They way he looked at her through his eyelashes, and they way he made sure that she was walking on the inside of the street. Liked how he smiled at her and said her name. She was obsessed with him. 

So i think i know what i wanna go for

Was thinking maybe italy in the 70’s 

What do you think :D ??

    And attached were varying pictures of vast rooms with big windows during golden hour and white flowy curtains with art pieces on the wall. It was minimal Even more minimal that what Karime asked for. This is what he wanted help with? Not to mention, the pictures he sent were of rooms far bigger than she’d ever seen for an LA apartment. Hell, those rooms might as well have been in Italy, one of the windows had a view of a pretty pink sunset and orange tree branches littering the way. 

    However, she couldn’t argue that they were very pretty rooms. Sweet and plain, easy for the eye to absorb and just the place you’d be able to melt on the floor with a book. 

    Or the kind in which you have slow, hazy afternoon sex, but who was she to say what harry would use his rooms for right?

    Disclaimer: if this is the look you’re going for

    Like

    This exact look? You’re gonna have 2 have a really big apartment   

        Not even a full minute goes by until the grey delivered letters turns into ‘Read at 10:15pm’ and the grey typing bubble appears at the bottom of her screen. Her palms begin to sweat and her breath hitches. She doesn’t realize she’s been holding in her breath until she releases it after his message comes through. 

        are you doing anything this weekend? 

        Y/n is confused, brows furrowed as she reads his message. Why does he want to know?

    No. why? she responded.

    so you can come and take measurements of my apartments. that way i know how to tweak what i want

  and I have a measuring tape don’t worry

Y/n rolled her eyes and giggled at her phone screen, turning and resting her bum on the edge of her sink. 

    Saturday? 

        Seconds later,

see you Saturday

sweet dreams. H.x

The idiot. Of course he’d sign off a text message. Scoffing, y/n let the towel drop to the floor, and reached into the tub to unclog the drain. As soon as she felt the pop of water flowing down the pipes, she took out her arm and walked out. 

.

.

On Wednesday, y/n laid in bed until 12. When she got up, it was only to brush her teeth, pee, and eat ramen with rice and egg like the asian lady in the liquor store had taught her to make. When she finished, she went back to bed. Maybe she masturbated to get herself to fall asleep again.

Maybe.

.

.

On Thursday, she went took Our Sign Of The Times and took it out to read in her car on signal hill. She finished it. 

She cried. 

When she went home, she started another one. Rogue Lover. This one with a really pretty purple flower on the front, and the first page when you open it is a raven haired man with shoulder length hair who’s propped up next to a busty redhead. Her nipple is in his mouth, and her head is thrown back in pleasure. Y/n fell a little more in love with 

Lemus Knox upon finding the dedication was a note rather than a name. 

It said:

Whoever reads this, I’ll be waiting for you where the stars and clouds meet. My heart is yours. Lemus.

.

.

Friday. 

She helped Lucy at Rockstar. A bald man with a blue beard came in asking for her. He has a boutique in Long Beach. Doesn’t want to come off overbearing. Will he help her? 

She said yes.They were set to meet next week. 

Also, Harry texted her asking if they were still on for tomorrow and come ready to eat because I made Italian food for a few friends I had over and there’s leftovers. 

.

.

Saturday. 

Y/n woke up with an appetite for Italian food. She didn’t have to be at Harry’s house until 12-ish. They hadn’t really clarified. And with it being 8 am and all that, y/n decided to take some time to shower and prep herself all nice and delicate. She spent 15 minutes lathering herself in her tub, letting her skin absorb berry scented bubbles that made her mouth water, and if she didn’t know any better she’d scoop up the bubbles and eat them.When her skin shriveled, she stood and drained the water, letting the stream from the overhead wash her off, and stepped out onto her heart shaped mat, the kind with little stubs that felt really nice against the bottom of her feet.

A little while back, she’d bought a lemon face scrub from a really expensive skincare place that had a sale, and meanwhile she put on her clothes, she put some on her cheekbones and forehead to sit for 15 minutes.  It required extra care when slipping her floral dress over her head. Once she managed to poke her head through, and the material rested all bunched up on her neck, the rest was a breeze. With a careful yank, the light material cascaded down her body, dropping just below her bum. Checking herself in her mirror, she smiled at the way she looked when she swayed her hips side to side. Cheeky flashes of her bum glint at her teasingly. Humming contently, she took off to wash off her face in the restroom. She was eager to find out how Harry liked the way she looked; her dress a low neckline, and she wasn’t wearing a bra because it was one of those dress in which the fabric bunched at the breasts to create a makeshift cup. The patter was a nice pink that looked nice against her skin, dainty little bows at the sleeves and in between her breasts accentuating her features.

Y/n opted for nothing other than a dark shade of lipstick, and let her hair flow down her back. As she was putting on her shoes, a pair of those recycled shoes that sent some of the proceeds to charity, she noticed that much of what she was doing felt like what she would have done if she were getting ready for a date. 

And… and Harry had food waiting for her at his place (apartment? Loft? She didn’t know specifically). Was this a date? She definitely wouldn't mind if it was.

She finished, and grabbed nothing other than her keys and shoulder bag, hesitating at her door whether she should grab the measuring tape, but deciding against it after remembering that Harry, quite teasingly, had said he had one at his house. 

In her car, she scrolled up her and Harry’s text to find the one which contained his address, tapped on it when she found it, and set in on the small mount on the headboard of her cart. Huffing, she set off to Harry’s house.

It didn’t take her long to get there, about ten minutes, and she parked in front of a much nicer version of her own apartment complex, but in Beverly hills.  A beige building that have the similar structure of a hotel, with turquoise patios and green roofing. Palm trees making a walkway to the entrance, which guarded by a security guard who asked who she was there to see.  

“I’m here to see Harry…” she falters, realizing she doesn’t know his name. 

The security, an old man with a limp and scrutinizing eyes, looked her up and down and said, “Ya one of dem girls das always botherin’ him ain’tcha? I suggest you turn back and go home. Mr. Styles won’t see you.” 

Y/n, with her jaw dropped, stood stunned in the middle of the pathway, not sure what to respond. Surely, he was confused. And whichever “girls that came around bothering Mr. Styles” she wasn’t one of them. 

“Go on and git,” he said, crossing his arms and standing possessively in front of a keypad. 

She hurried to reach into her bag for her phone, walking back to her car while she punched Harry’s “call” because she didn’t want to stand while an agitated security man watched her. 

He picks up the phone, and doesn’t even give her a chance to talk before he says, “is Felix giving you a hard time?” His voice gravelly and knowing. 

“The security guard? He said that you won’t see me.” She whines into the receiver. 

“Ah yes, the strict old man. Gimme a second.” He hangs up on her, leaving y/n clutching the strap of her bag so hard her knuckles turn white. 

“Ms. Y/n?!” Felix calls from behind her. She turns around, surprised to see that his face was completely transformed with a smile. His front tooth is gold and he’s missing a molar. “You can go on ahead, dolly. Mr. Styles just called and said you was a nice ‘un.”  He said, punching a thumb into the keypad behind him. “Sorry, bout that Miss. Enjoy the rest ‘ur dey!” He touches the tips of his fore and middle finger to his gleaming forehead and salutes her as she passes him, giggling and blushing. 

“Thank you, Felix. You too.” 

She walks through, and is greeted with a fine lobby. It really does look like a hotel lobby. Carpeted floors, a receptionist, and a door leading to a pool just outside the elevator. Before she can even wonder where to go, she hears her name being called by a familiar voice, 

“Y/n, over here!” Harry calls out, standing in front of open doors to the elevator to her right. He’s wearing a burgundy turtleneck and black slacks that are cuffed at the ankles. Yellow tortoise shell glasses and his hair is parted down the middle making him look like MiloThatch. A lavender towelette is in the grasp of his right hand, and he’s waving it at her like soldier girlfriends saying goodbye on the platforms. 

Stunned at his etherealness, y/n felt the roof of her mouth go dry. Staring at the way he filled out his clothing, she walked to him hypnotized, transfixed by his appearance. His chiseled features, boyish grin. She gravitated towards him. Enchanted.

“H-hi, Harry.” she said dreamily. Harry’s eyes raked her up and down when she came to a stop in front of him. 

“Why, hello. You look exceptionally lovely right now, darling.” He rasped, looking down at her sternly, all traces of a sweet smile gone and replaced by something a little more serious. A little more sinister.  His light green eyes turning a darker shade, y/n’s lips parting and knees weakening. 

She musters the words to say, “so do you,” and Harry’s lips turn up at the corners. 

“Shall we head up. Pasta and salad is waiting for you.” He turns away from her and presses the circular button that goes red when he pushes it. 

“How was-”

“So, you-” 

They both say at the same time, laughing and stopping to let the other speak and Harry says, “You go first.” 

“I see you’ve a few fans that bother you, and Mr. Felix has taken to guarding them off,” y/n commented. Her eyebrow quirked at him. 

Harry laughs, a single loud ha! “Felix just takes his job very seriously. That’s all.” 

“Doesn’t change the fact that you have women-” the elevator rings and the doors open, “lined up on your doorstep.” Harry steps in first, and uses his hand to stop the elevator doors from closing in on y/n. 

She steps through, and they both stand side by side in the metal encasing. Glancing up, she sees the ceiling is covered in mirror panels. 

“Well,” Harry shifts his body so his front is facing her, and takes a step, shoulders taking turns on tilting forward with every slow, torturous step he takes. “Does it,” Y/n takes a step back, breath hitching in her chest, “ bother,” her back collides with the cool wall, the floors on the meter above the doors keep going, 5, 6, “ you?” 

He’s a needle away from her nose, his mouth ghosting over her own and his chest rising up and down slowly while hers is an erratic mess. She’s breathing out of her mouth, her eyes shifting between his own two that are fixed and straight on hers. 7, 8,  Harry’s hand comes to rest on the right side of her face, caging her between the elevator wall and his bicep, his palm cupped her jaw and running a thumb tenderly over her cheekbone. 

“I-I,” she stutters. 

“Cat got your tongue, petal?” His breath smells like mint and coffee. The tips of the curls that hang in front of his eyes tickle y/n’s forehead and down the side of her temple and eventually her cheek when he leans in to put his lips at her ear. “Look so pretty right now, y'know?” HIs british drawl is heavy because his tone of voice is low. 

8, 9, “Harry,” she gasped, involuntarily tilting her head to the side when he noses at the back of her ear. “What are you doing?” 

The elevator comes to a stop at 10, and Harry retracts, leaving her a red, heated mess  and slightly panting. He takes the few steps to stand in front of the elevator doors, and clasps his hands behind his back. “Nothing. Nothing at all. Don’t know what you’re talking about.” He smiled at her sweetly, his demeanor innocent as if we weren't just going to ravish her in an elevator like Robet Patterson for that one Dior commercial.

The doors open to a long hallway that turns sharply at the end to the right, a door where it would’ve turned on the left side. The right wall is a window that looks out onto the middle of the building, where y/n could see the pool that had been behind door. The flooring is a green colored tile, the same as the roofing, and the walls are a flattering soft yellow bordering on white.

Harry’s shoes, expensive looking-black heeled boots that have a rainbow pattern on the, making clacking noises against the floor with every step he takes. Y/n can’t help but feel awkward while walking alongside him, but  Harry, humming along to the tune of Maneater, by Hall and Oates, doesn’t seem to share her opinions. At the end of the hall, he makes a sharp turn to left, and she bumps into him. Mumbling a sorry she steps back to allow him to open the door. 

It’s not locked, and with a quick turn of the brass knob, the door opens and the smell of tomato and basil hits them both in the face. 

Y/n’s stomach grumbles, and she places her hand over her bell and looks over at Harry with wide eyes, embarrassed. 

“I take it you’re hungry?” He steps through, holding the door open for her.

“...yes…” she mumbled, stepping through. 

“Just in time then because I…” Whatever Harry says is drowned out. Y/n is amazed. Harry doesn’t have an apartment. He has a goddamn penthouse suite. His living room wall is a window, his kitchen open and blending in with the rest of the space. There are no walls, just turns where the building walls connect. Tall and wide walls painted with angles of shadows and lights that stream in. No furniture other than a long, wooden dinner table and three white chairs, and his bed. A mattress and a white comforter messily strewn over pillows. Before the walls turn to the streetside view, Y/n catches glimpses of cedar wood bookshelves arranged in the middle of the room; just like in a library. 

“Y/n?”  Harry appears in her line of peripheral vision, a knowing look on his face.

“Sorry, sorry. What was it?” 

“Said, do you want spaghetti and meatballs or fettuccine?”

“Mmm,” She scrunches her face like she’s thinking real hard, “fettuccine.” Then she adds, “please.” 

“You got it.” He said, walking away while playing with the collar of his turtleneck. Y/n follows after him, to the kitchen isle and utilities placed in a little alcove underneath the stairs that lead upstairs. To what, y/n didn’t know. 

Then she sees the pots and pans that are still steaming, the cutting boards with chopped lettuce and other vegetables and realizes that-

“Hey! You said you had takeout,”

“I did.” He picks up the knife next to the tomato, and continues chopping the lettuce.  “But I left it out, and it went bad. I promised you Italian so I made it myself instead. Much better than Olive Garden, anyways.” He shrugs, looking up at her and pointing with the knife to a chair across from him. “Sit.”

“NO!” She said, exasperated. “Let me chop something, too.”

“Darling, this is finished. I’ve got it. Sit, the fettuccine is almost finished. Just,” he twists his neck to look behind him, at the clock above the stove, a cat with a swinging tail. “Five more minutes.” 

Y/n slides the bag she carried off her shoulder and hooks it in the back of the chair he had told her to sit on, which she still wasn’t.

“Harry, that’s not fair.” she stomped her foot, a flat slapping noise of her sole against his wooden floors.

“Oh sit, or I won’t give you any food.” He tuts his tongue at her, shaking his knife and turning to turn down one of the knobs on the stove.

Pouting like a child, y/n sits down with a plop and a screech of the chair sliding against the floor.

She sat and watched Harry as he took plates out of his cupboards and placed food on them. The only noises being the quiet bubbling of pasta sauce, the tapping of his heels, clinks of plates against each other, and y/n’s grumbling stomach. Her face was still puckered in a pout because Harry hadn’t let her help him, but it slowly eased off as she focused more and more on the way he looked in his fitting black pants. The way the fabric was tighter on his ass, how his thighs flexed with each stride. Suddenly, y/n got the urge to bite into them, and she felt herself blush at her own thoughts, especially when Harry turned to her with a sweet smile of his lips.

He placed a plate in front of her, complete with salad and garlic knots. 

“Would you like some wine? Got this really nice one the other day and I haven’t opened it yet. Figured since we’re having Italian, it fits.” Harry was holding a dark wine bottle in his hand, that he had just pulled out of his silver fridge. 

“Harry, I would love some, but-” Y/n tried to explain that she felt bad because she came here for take out and had cooked her a meal.

“NO buts. Have some.” And instantly, there was a cup of red wine next to her plate.

Even though he had a table for eating, he placed his own plate next to her, and sat down to eat. Y/n looked at him, deflated and with a pained look on her face, while he forked spaghetti into his mouth and raised his glass for a drink. 

He froze when he saw she was looking at him. Looking her up and down, he said, “Moppet, eat your food. We have work to do.” 

Y/n rubbed her palm down her face, her lips pulled down. With a groan, she picked up her fork, sulking, and twirled it in her pasta.

She didn’t know what she was expecting, but definitely not the mini piece of heaven that was in her mouth. Harry had managed to create the perfect blend of cheese and cream that glazed her tongue like silk. It was so good, she moaned, her fingers pressing against her mouth and head tilted back. 

“S’good,? Harry questioned, wiping his mouth with a napkin to hide his laugh.

“Very,” she said, shoving more of the pasta into her mouth.

“Good.”

They eat quietly, Harry snickering at her whenever inhumane noises of pleasure left her mouth.Y/n practically cleaned her plate with the garlic knots. She only remembered about the glass of wine when Harry set his down empty, lips stained, and eyes droopy if she looked at him hard enough. After she’d cleaned her plate, she reached for the thin stem of the g;ass and drank it like it was grape juice, only slightly wincing after it had gone down, the tart acidity washing down the sweeter tones of cream. 

“Slow down, Moppet. Don’t want you to get a tummy ache.” Harry said, patting her hand tenderly and pushing himself off the seat to place her plate in the sink. At this, y/n jumped from her chair and took the plates from Harry. 

“You cooked, not I wash the dishes.” She stuck her tongue out at him, the tip red from the wine.

“But-” Harry protested.

“No buts. Go,” she bumped her hip against his, and walked the last few steps to the sink, picking up the sponge and turning on the water. She washed the dishes, and like always, got the front of her dress wet, water splattering onto her chest. Sucking on her teeth, y/n used the towel hanging on the handle of the oven to pat off the water. Harry watched this from where he leaned against the isle across from the stove; a new glass of wine half empty.

Returning to the table, she grabbed her now full- no thanks to Harry- glass of wine and sipped from it. It settled nicely in her stomach, warming down the path it took to settle.

Clasping her hands, she said, “Okay, Harry. Let’s talk decor.”

Harry untucked his hand from underneath his armpit, and smacked his lips together, “Follow me.”

He started walking out to the living room area, and into the bookshelves y/n had seen. Up close, they were actually taller than her, just about Harry’s height. He walked past them, and stopped again at a corner where one building face meets the other. Here, he had pictures upon pictures laid out on the floor. He even had scraps of fabric.

Y/n stared, and nodded approvingly. “You did your research. Good job.” Looking closer, she saw what the images were. Albums (David Bowie, Stevie Nicks, Fleetwood Mac, The Eagles, The Beatles, Prince). Pop culture pieces (Andy Narwhal, Pulp Fiction, Sixteen Candles). Fabric patterns, colors, and a lot of velvet. About half of the pictures were shots of other room like the pictures he’d shown her. 

To her left, Harry tapped onto his phone, and seconds later, that song he’d been humming in the hallway, Maneater, played with clarity on speakers hidden from the eye. When he was satisfied with his queue choices, he knee and sat next to his big circle of inspiration, legs splayed out in front of him looking infinitely long.  Y/n noticed he had taken off his boots, and his feet, knobby and lanky, had toes painted blue and pink. He had black markings on his big toe, but she couldn’t see what it was.

“Look, sit sit, I was thinking…” Harry began, patting the area next to him and grabbing a few of the papers he had spewed on the floor. Y/n, inexplicably endeared, sat with her legs crossed to the side next to him, feeling her butt press onto the cold floor, and listened to him go on and on about his vision. 

Hours passed with them just talking about images, why Fleetwood Mac would go better than Prince (because Fleetwood Mac is more of an afternoon in the meadows, and Prince is a night going down the highway in Malibu) and fabric choices for the windows (i’m sorry Harry, y/n had argued, but unless you can find a near translucent velvet its not gonna work. If you want the summer in italy during the 70’s look, you need transparent curtains).

They sat long enough that the way the light filtered in at an angle according to the sun, changed completely (it was at a harsh slant with the morning light, now its at a soft bend with golden light). When the light made Harry’s face look a golden pink, he fell back onto the wooden floors with a groan and said,

“How do you do this, y/n?” He blew hair out of his lips to move the few strands that had fallen in front of his eyes.

“Dunno, its just second natur- heeyy,”

A midst the mess, she guesses they missed it. Underneath a picture of a fruit bowl and flowers, was a picture of a naked woman, with birds eye view from the bot of her head, so you could see the tips of her breasts with they way she arched her back, and the head of hair in between her thighs. Her mouth was open in a silent scream of pleasure, eyes closed and a hand fisting her own hair like she was doing to the man in between her thighs.

Her cheeks burn upon her discovery, and she feels a familiar buzz in the place where the woman in the picture had a tongue pressed against her. 

When he heard her little gasp, Harry shot straight up and when he saw the image in her hands he said, “Ah, I see you’ve finally found it. Was wonderin’ when it would come out.” Reaching across her, his chest smushed againt her shoulder, he plucks it from her hands and look at it, smirking.

“You didn’t tell me we’d be doing x-rated work.” 

She says it teasingly.

But maybe it was the way she was looking at him then. She couldn’t help it. The roots of his hair looked blonde in the light, and his eyes were clear, almost see through as light passed them. His lips looked particularly tasty, having been tinted red from the wine, glinting from his own spit, and swollen from how he’d plucked at them while he was thinking about her suggestions. The juncture of his throat was partly hidden, but she could still see every time he swallowed, hos his adam’s apple bobbed up and down. And… and it wasn’t her fault that black pants looked good on him either. The material stretching taught over his muscles, flexing with every, single movement he made, no matter how small.  

So, maybe she had been looking at his provocatively, and her comment had… fueled Harry. Tuned him in on what had been on her mind.

He lifts himself with one arm from his indian-style position on the floor, up to his knees, and crawls to her. Eyes looking with hers, y/n’s chest starts to heave, her breaths growing bated; shorter; faster. 

“Do you want to do x-rated work?” He said, his voice dangerously low. His rings clink against the wooden planks, and brush against her thighs when he comes close, hands bracketing her hips, his nose nudging hers.

She’s gupping, like a little guppy fish, her lips opening and close, but nothing comes out of them.

Harry’s nose moves to her cheek, pushing back her hair. “It’s okay, pet. I can ask you again. Do you want,” his lips are at her ear for the second time that day, except that she thinks maybe they’ll actually gets somewhere this time. All she has to do is say,

“Yes.” Her voice is small, an airy squeak when Harry presses a kiss to the back of her ear. Her hands, sitting dumbly on her lap, move tentatively to his chest, searching from something to hold onto. She clenches the soft fabric in her hands just as Harry starts to lean back, his palm falling into her naval, and pushing her back, back, back, until she has to stretch her legs out to lay comfortable on her back, staring up at him with bleary eyes, glossed over.

“Yes? Course you do, pet.” He moves his knees to straddle her hips, leaning down close so he’s almost talking into her mouth, and one of his hands smooths down the shape of her waist. Y/n feels herself grow wet when Harry dips his thumb into her belly button, and she’s whining because she hasn’t done anything with anybody in so long and she wants him to do something.

But, if he’s not gonna do anything, that she might as well. She stretched her neck the last of the way, flattening her lips against Harry’s. The relief is instant, she quells her desire of being closer to him, and Harry responds almost immediately, swiping his tongue on her bottom lip and licking into her when she lets him. Harry groans, because she still tastes like wine and a sweetness he can only credit to her. His kiss becomes urgent, smashing his against her soft, malleable mouth.

Y/n whimpers, hips jutting upwards when Harry takes her lower lip between his teeth, and bites down on it,hard enough to where the pain was pleasure. Although her mind is swimming, she knows that the bulge she feels through the flimsy cloth of her dress is Harry’s cock. Elated and driven mad by her need, she arches up into him, needing any friction she could.

Harry pulls away from her, their lips separating with a wet noise, and tuts his tongue at her. “Ah, ah, ah. You’re not getting my cock tonight, y/n. Not yet.”

She mewls, her eyebrows dipping and red, puffy lips pouting, “Harry, don’t be a tease. S’not fair.” She doesn’t care is she sounds pathetic, the space between her thighs aches, and she’d like him to very much sate it “Do something, please.”

He coos at her, pressing wet kisses along her neck, his hand sneaking past her waist, to the start of her dress, and slipping underneath it. “Whining like a little puppy, aren’t you?” His hand glides of her thigh, the shill of his rings sending a violent shiver up her spine. His nail scratches a path near the place where she’s most warm. Most needy, and she moans when he feels how close he is to touching her, the splotch on her panties expanding every time he spoke. “You’re alright puppy, I’ll take care of you.”

Y/n’s breath hitches when his finger hooks onto the strap of her underwear, snapping the material twice with a chuckle at the cries he elicited from her. 

“Harry, harry, harry,” she’s half mad with need, her eyes squeezed shut with anticipation, and when Harry sees the desperation in her slack mouth, his own features go soft, and he takes out his hand from underneath her dress to cup her cheek. 

“Puppy,” he said, and when she didn’t open her eyes, he said again, “Puppy, look at me.” his thumb rubs over her cheek, ignoring the imploring whines that leave her lips, and instead leaning down and kissing her to shut her up. “It’s okay, its okay. Do you want me to keep going?”

“Yes!” She shouted, eyes going wide, amazed that he’d even ask that. “Do something.” She ruts up again, the head of Harry’s cock nudging against her hood. Harry groans, noticing how fucking hard he is. He’s leaked through his pants, a darker splotch where his head it.

“Fuck, baby,” he said, more to himself than to her.

His hand makes the same trail it had before, flipping up her dress this time to see her clothed center. Her panties make him want to cum on the spot. Baby pink cotton with a bow on the center of the band. Biting his lip, he uses a knee to spread her thighs, and then he sees just how much she needs him. 

“Oh puppy. We’ve made a mess of your panties haven’t we?” He looks at her with amusement, “Guess they have to go, don’t they?” 

Y/n hums desperately, her hips writhing up to meet his fingers. Pressing a last kiss to her lips, Harry scoots back so his knees are by her feet, and he and slip off the material all the way off. Suddenly aware of how bare she is, he clasps her thighs sht, obscuring Harry’s view of her pussy. 

“C’mon now, honey. Don’t be shy,” with a strong hand, he pries her knees apart and lays himself down in front of her, his breath hot on her swollen clit. From that angle, he can see how much she glistens, and how her juices spill out of her every time she clenched her hole around nothing. “Look at you, just begging to be stuffed.”

With a single finger, he slides up and down her slit, collecting her wetness, and then slipping into her. 

Y/n bleats, his intrusion stirring her heat up more; she wanted more. Wanted to be filled than more with just his finger, but was scared to say. Instead she said, “another,”

Harry slid his middle finger inside her, scissoring his fingers and leaning down to lick a stripe on her clit. Y/n arched her back, and moaned loudly, her eyes squeezing shut and hands touching at the area around her, looking for something to hold on to and settling to clenching at her own dress.

He hears the sound of her hands colliding with the floor, and looks up to see her knuckles going white with hoe hands she was fondling her dress.

“Y’can pull my hair, puppy.” he said against her slit, the vibrations of his words sending prickled of pleasure to the building orgasm she feels in the pit of her stomach. The second her muddled brain comprehends what Harry said, her fingers jam themselves into her his hair, just as he suckles on her. Y/n’s eyes roll to the back of her head, and her gasps come out in staccatos.

Harry’s fingers are still pumping in an out of her, twisting every time he pushed them back into her. He’s looking for the spongy spot inside of her, when he hears her say something incoherently.

“What was that?” he asked her,his fingers stilling inside her.

“Said, what about you?”

Her voice is faint and weak, her voice and comment sending pin-pricks of satisfaction to his throbbing member. His heart clenches at her considerations, so touched by the fact that she’s so lost in her own heat but she’s still worried about him.

“This isn’t about me. It’s about you. Y’gonna cum for me, puppy?” He feels the pad of his middle finger slide against something that has a different texture that the rest of her, and when her breathing hitches and she lets out a long moan, he knows hes found what he’s looking for. Y/n’s pussy clenches around, her fingers tighten in his hair, so hard it makes Harry yelp. “Clenching m’fingers, puppy, I know you’re there.” 

Y/n feels the familiar slow burn of her orgasm twisting in the pit of her stomach, her entire body hyper aware of Harry and what he was doing to her. How he pressed a hand on her navel to keep her from lifting her hips, the harsh sucking of her clit, and then finally the flick of his pointer finger curling inside her.  The build-up unravels, and her mouth opens up in a silent scream like the women in the picture, her body going taught, and then falling limp when the wave calms.

“That’s it, love. All better now isn’t it?” Harry slowly takes his fingers out of her, reveling in the way she’s still squeezing around him. She’s sensitive and jerking from her orgasm when He lick his fingers clean, kissing his path up her body. Her thighs, her exposed navel, her clothed valley of her breasts, her collarbones, and up her throat, behind her ear where he’s taken a liking to kissing.

“Jesus, Harry. Where’d you learn to talk like that?” She titters sleepily.

“S’my job, puppy.” He nibbles at her earlobe and down her jawline.

Alarmed, y/n’s eyes pop open, and she sits up, pushing Harry’s chest and holding him at arms length. “What do you mean, it’s your job?” She’s scared she’s just been used or something along those lines.

“I mean it’s my job. Learned a few skills from writing erotica, pet.” He responses calmly, diving back in to continue his assault on the skin of her jaw. His voice warped against her, he adds, “write under a pseudonym. Lemus Knox.” 

Lemus Knox. 

Harry was Lemus Knox. Harry was Lemus fucking Knox.

“You’re…” she’s still. Almost like that fight or flight instinct. 

Harry stills when he realizes she has. He knows, simply by the tone of her voice that she knows who he is. Who Lemus Knox is.He withdraws to look at her, grinning fro  ear to ear.

“You know who I am?” he said slowly.

“Harry, I’d even go as far as saying I’m in love with Lemus,” she blurts, reddening as soon as the words leave her mouth, but Harry just smiles fondly at her.

“That’s okay, puppy. Lemus and I aren’t the same person. You have a right to love him,” he nuzzles into her neck, kissing down her shoulder, “Just as long as you save some love for me.”

And lying there, completely stunned ant with Harry’s hard cock pressing into her hip, y/n bursts out laughing. She laughs because she’s happy. Because she likes Harry. Because she loves Lemus Knox.

She laughs because for the first time in a long time, someone is laughing along with her, kissing her, holding her.

She laughs because she can’t wait to see where Harry will lead her.

[musings-from-mars]

part 4 por favor? Maybe Ruby starts noticing the "tension" between Cinder and Blake and starts setting them up?

Freelance Love Triangle AU - Part 4

They arrived at the outdoor gallery, and Ruby was already zipping around here and there, thinking out loud about angles and framing, all while gushing about the art on display, choosing her favorites. “This is so cool!” She said to Blake and Cinder.

“It’s a lovely installation,” Cinder agreed, the corner of her mouth turned up. “Don’t you think so, Blake?”

It was a pretty magnificent showcase. Crude marble pillars of varying heights and widths stood in a seemingly random arrangement, each with art pieces hung on the sides. The pieces of 3D art stood in spaces between pillars. While there were two equally tall pillars that served as the “entrance” to the exhibition, it was open air and seemingly boundless, as the pillars became fewer and farther between the further from the center you moved.

At the very center of the gallery was a massive metal sculpture of what looked like a suit of armor, but it was matte black, and the plates of armor were spaced out from one another so it was easy to see right through the gaps. It stood on a concrete cube labeled “SOAPBOX” with “various artists” engraved underneath. The artists were making a point, and Blake’s mind raced trying to decipher what it might be.

But then Ruby started talking to Cinder, and that broke Blake’s focus immediately.

“The suit is faceless, and the armor having such obvious gaps indicates that the suit is vulnerable,” Cinder explained to Ruby as she looked up at the sculpture, which Ruby craning her neck to do the same. “Yet it stands on a soapbox, elevated and arrogant, despite the flaws in its defenses. I think it makes a point about the illusions of authority and strength of those in power, and the general populace’s compliance despite the obvious flaws that everyone can see if they look close enough.”

“Woah, that’s so cool…” Ruby murmured with wonder.

Blake didn’t want to feel as annoyed as she did, because Cinder’s take on it was pretty much exactly how Blake viewed the piece, but dammit, she wanted to impress Ruby too! She tried to come up with something original to say, but she didn’t want to sound desperate. Cinder was too smooth and eloquent.

“I imagine it took a long time to fashion the metal and assemble it, probably took several weeks, even for a team of artists,” Cinder pondered.

“If you were to get into contact with the artists, you might know for sure,” Blake remarked, not intending to sound so combative, but it was said. “There’s more to this than what the viewer can interpret. Anyone can come around here and write an article about what they think it all means in a day, but we’re putting together something bigger. We need testimonies from the artists, opinions of other creatives…”

Cinder had turned from the sculpture and was glaring at her, arms crossed over her chest. “Well, isn’t that why you’re here? You’re the networking specialist, after all.”

“It’s your project too, you know,” Blake said, stepping closer to her, then sort of regretting doing that now that she was close enough to smell her perfume. “I’m not doing all the interviews while you sit back and write down your opinions. You’ve got to pull your weight.”

“I’ve pulled plenty of weight. I haven’t even shown you the drafts I have yet,” Cinder countered, and for some reason thought it appropriate to smile at Blake. She looked down her nose a bit at her, making Blake resent Cinder’s slight height advantage. “After all, isn’t it only fair that I handle the majority of the writing, you acquire the testimonies, and Ruby handles the accompanying media? Let’s all do what we’re good at here, huh?”

Blake hated it when she made a good point. She wanted to counter-argue but she knew that would be counterproductive. “So I’m going have to handle all of the interviews? That will take up so much of my work time, you really will be on the hook for pretty much all of the writing.”

“Like I said, it’s what we’re good at,” Cinder repeated and shrugged. She leaned her weight on one leg in that sexy way that kind of pissed Blake off. “You think so, Ruby?”

Ruby had been silent the whole time, pressing her lips together as she stood by during the intense exchange. When she heard her name spoken, she snapped out of it a bit and blinked. “Oh, yeah, I think that’s a good idea. Uhm, Robyn wanted us to allocate, right?”

“Right,” Cinder agreed and nodded. “That was easy, we’ve already allocated. Wonderful job, team.”

If Blake gritted her teeth any harder she’d have to book a dentist appointment. Thankfully, Cinder took that moment to turn away from her and walk over to one of the gallery’s pillars, swaying her hips like an annoying exotic bird.

I hate you I hate you I haaaaate you—

“Ruby, I think if you got one of these pillars in the foreground with the sculpture in the background, that could maybe be a candidate for cover,” Cinder said.

Ruby hurried over to look at what she meant, leaving Blake standing next to Soapbox, shoulders slumped forward and her face burning hot.

Was getting cover worth it? Was getting to work with Ruby worth how insufferable and annoying aloof Cinder was? Blake was seriously considering it, but then she watched as Ruby giggled at something Cinder said, and she knew then that she had to stick with this, for whatever other reasons, but mostly to make sure Ruby and Cinder didn’t become a thing.

Was that shitty of her? Maybe. But the thought of that happening made her blood boil.

~~~

“How about I take you both for a drink?”

The offer felt like it came out of nowhere. The three of them were waiting on a bench not far from the gallery. Night had fallen, and while they had gotten plenty of photos and Blake had gotten the chance to take some notes about the various artists, it wasn’t that late. Blake was about to hail a rideshare because she just wasn’t in the mood to walk all the way home, but (while she kind of hated that she did), Blake considered Cinder’s offer.

“That sounds like fun, sure!” Ruby said. She sat between Blake and Cinder, tapping away at her laptop as she backed up the photos of the day. Even as time went on, she hadn’t lost any energy, which Blake was impressed by. She certainly couldn’t say the same for herself she was fresh out of college.

“Lovely,” Cinder said with a smile.

Well, if Ruby was going with Cinder, Blake was definitely going, too. “Sure. I could use a drink. But I’m not staying out late, nor should any of us. We’ve got more work to do tomorrow.”

Cinder nodded knowingly. “Just a little excursion. We’ll save the proper night out for Friday.” Blake couldn’t tell if she was joking or not. “I know I nice little bar near here. It’s the quaint type, for hipsters like us.”

Blake chuckled a bit at that. “Great, I love craft beer,” she said sarcastically.

“I’ve never had anything other than hard seltzer,” Ruby admitted with a shy chuckle. “Do they have that?”

“I’m sure they do, hun,” Cinder assured her with a smile that made the hairs on the back of Blake’s neck stand up.

Ruby rubbed the back of her neck bashfully as she shut her laptop, having finished saving her images. “Not to be a stereotypical gay or anything.”

Blake snorted a laugh, then blushed at the fact she’d snorted. “What, do gays like hard seltzer?”

“I guess?” Ruby shrugged, still blushing.

“I’m more of a red wine lesbian myself, we all have our tastes,” Cinder told her, her voice dripping with a flirtatious lull, as if she were already a glass deep.

Blake chewed on the inside of her mouth. She figured “whatever sounds good at the time bisexual” wouldn’t sound as sexy as red wine lesbian. Then again, she’d never had a hard seltzer. “I’ll get whatever you get, Ruby. I’m curious.”

Ruby giggled, her cheeks rosy and dimpled when she grinned. “Oh no, now I really hope you like it or else I’ll seem like I have bad taste.”

Blake smiled and shook her head. “Don’t worry, hun, I think I’ll like it just fine.” She felt proud of herself for slipping a “hun” in there like Cinder had. The combination of Ruby blushing and Cinder shooting her a glare of recognition was a satisfying confidence boost.

Ruby tapped her feet on the concrete a few times, like she was letting out a sudden excess of energy, and she hopped off the bench. “We should go! The night’s not getting any younger, right?”

Cinder stood with her, her hands tucked in her jacket pockets. “We should. I’ll lead the way.”

Blake sighed as she followed, the group beginning to follow Cinder’s lead away from the park. She hoped she’d seen the end of Cinder’s funny business, but she knew that was a hope in futility. She had to be planning something, right?

The best Blake could think to do was be there to see what it was.

[crybabybomin]

Comfy - Bang Yedam

Pairing: Bang Yedam x reader

Words: 1.277

Warnings: Nonee

Request: Nope

Masterlist 💕

Today was your first day at your new school. You moved to Seoul because your father got a new job at a big company. You were used to moving around but this time he told you this was more permanent so you could study in Seoul. This made your kind of nervous since you never really made friends because of the moving. You wanted to make more friends this time.

You lived alone with your dad. Your mom died when you were really young. You were okay with it though, your dad was enough for you. You were his little girl and he loved you a lot. He had new girlfriends here and there but mostly left after some time.

You have a passion for music but you have the biggest stage fright ever. You can play the guitar, piano, violin and drums. And you would love to become a producer or songwriter when you were older. Thats why you decided to go to the school of performing arts. Maybe this would also push you to be on stage more and get over your stage fright.

You were really excited to start at your new school but also nervous. The school year already started so everyone probably already had their friends and little groups that they hang with. You woke up early and put on your uniform and some light makeup. Dad had already left but he made you breakfast with a note and some money for lunch on it. You ate your breakfast and walked to the bus stop. The ride was okay you just listened to some music and saw other students entering the bus.

It was quite busy while entering the school. Some people looked at you but most of them ignored you. You had to stop at the administration to get your class assigned to you. You knocked on the door and saw a student with a female teacher. “Hi I will be with you soon.” She told you with a happy smile. After she was done with the other student she looked at you. “You must be the new student, Y/n right?” “Yes that’s me” she grabbed something from her table and gave it to you. “Here’s the calendar with extra activities for this year plus your locker key and if you have any questions just come to me.” You nodded “Just one question, where is the classroom? before I get lost trying to find it.” She laughed and showed you the directions.

Class had already started and you knocked on the door and opened it. Every head turned to you and the teacher looked at you. “Everyone this is our new student, let's make sure she feels welcome alright?” The whole class said yes “Would you tell us a little about yourself.” You nodded and cleared your throat. “Uhm okay, so my name is Y/n. I moved here last week. I love music and I hope to have a good time with you all.” You looked at the teacher and he started talking again “okay so you could sit next Yedam since he has an empty seat next to him.” The boy named Yedam put his arm up and you walked to your seat. It was a seat next to the window around the middle of the class.

“Nice to meet you, my name is Yedam.” You smiled and told him “Nice to meet you too.” You realised you didn’t have the textbook yet and looked down at your table. Then Yedam offered to share his book. You smiled at him. You thought you were lucky that he was willing to share and that he was so nice. You got out your note book to take notes. Your mind went into another direction when you started spacing out while looking out the window. Then a lot of noise started and you saw people put their books in their bags. You looked down at your notes and started panicking you only had like half of it.

“Don’t worry I can send you mine.” Someone said and you looked next to you. It was Yedam again. “Thanks you’re a lifesaver.” It was break time so you decided to walk around the school and also try to find you locker. You found it and while walking back you came across the music room. You opened the door and saw some instruments. You wanted to play a little so you played on the piano. After a couple of minutes you saw Yedam looking at you, you hadn't noticed he walked into the room.

“Wow you can play piano?” He asked you. You smiled “yeah and guitar, violin and drum. Do you play?” “Yeah and I sing too.” He sat down next to you behind the piano. “I haven’t heard that melody before.” You looked down “yeah it’s because I wrote it, its actually a song but I can’t sing that well.” “Can I please hear it.” You looked at him, he looked really cute so how could you say no.

You started playing again and this time you sang with it. After you were done you looked at him. “That sounded great, we should play a duet sometime and perform it.” “Uh yeah no, I don’t dow well with audiences.” “Well then let’s not perform it but just play it for ourselves.” You nodded and he smiled at you. Then the school bell rang and you both stood up and walked to class. Yedam made you feel like you have been friends for years.

After a couple days just going to school and hanging out with yedam you guys became good friends. He also introduced you to some of his friends. You sat with them at lunch. Their names are Doyoung, Asahi, Jaehyuk and Jeongwoo. They were nice and you all hung out after school sometimes. This made you realize you had a crush on Yedam.

You invited the boys for a movie night at your house, your dad was on a business trip and wouldn’t be back for a couple days. So they all came with food or drinks and their pyjamas. You made the living room cozy to chill and just relax. You heard the bell and walked to the door. And they all came together so you invited them in. You showed them around the house and your room.  Then you all went to the living room and sat down. Doyoung pushed you next to Yedam and you glared at him. You weren’t aware but yedam was blushing next to you. The movie started and after a while you felt yourself get tired. And then you fell asleep on yedam’s shoulder.

The boys nudged each other and after a while left you two together. You woke up and saw that only you and yedam were left in the room. “You should’ve woken me up if you wanted to leave too.” He looked at you. “What of I didn’t want to leave.” You looked confused and he took a breath. “I didn’t want to leave because I like being around you. I don’t think you noticed but I’ve liked you the day you walked into class. You just had something about you.” You were quiet, you couldn’t believe what was happening. “I like being around you too Yedam, you made me feel like we had been friends for years after we just met.” He smiled at you. “Then there’s one thing to ask you, would you like to go on a date with me.” You nodded and he smiled even bigger.

[writingwhimsey]

The Tiger and the Oda Princess Ch. 11

Chapter 11

The next day, Shingen made a visit to the dungeon. He sat in front of Kennyo's cell. "I was beginning to think you'd finally given up on me." Kennyo said from his cell. "You haven't come in a while."

"I've been busy." Shingen replied. "I was away for a bit."

Kennyo looked at him. "You look like you have something to say."

"I do." Shingen answered. "About a month ago now, Ava was kidnapped. She was taken to Oda territory in an effort to start a war again."

"By the way you're speaking, that didn't happen?"

"No." Shingen answered. "I had to work with the Oda to rescue her."

Kennyo glared at Shingen. "It would seem the siren's song is strong."

"It's not like I enjoyed it." Shingen snapped. "But we had to stay in Azuchi a while, before Ava could come home."

"You've formed an alliance with the devil." Kennyo stated.

"Yes." Shingen answered anyway.

"You should just kill me then."

"Why?"

"Because I can never forgive him for what he did. He was ruthless...so many innocents were lost."

Shingen sighed. "I will never deny you your grief."

"No, but you will deny me my revenge, when you've had yours." Kennyo replied. "Well, are continuing yours when you think of it."

"What are you talking about?" Shingen asked.

"You fought him, took your land back, and took his woman, made her your wife, and now she carries your child." Kennyo replied. "I can't imagine anything more shameful for that devil. And now that you're forming an alliance, he will be reminded every time he sees her with her pregnant belly."

"Ava isn't part of my revenge." Shingen countered.

Kennyo smiled. "Maybe not intentionally, but...that siren is yours now."

Shingen returned Kennyo's smile with a glare. "Don't talk about Ava like that."

"Her song is so sweet you don't even realize it." Kennyo replied.

"You speak as if I am being led to my doom." Shingen said. "When she is the one who saved me from death."

"And yet you now work with the devil."

"I know it is not the most ideal thing...but it's the fastest path to peace. And while you keep referring to my wife as a siren, maybe she is. But instead of leading anyone to their doom, she is leading us all to peace." Shingen said. "While we were in Azuchi, I had the chance to speak with that devil far more than I ever wanted...and for once I saw that he does carry the weight of what he has done."

Shingen was then getting up and walking away. He had other things he had to attend to. He had just exited the dungeons when Kenshin found him. "There you are, you bastard!" Kenshin shouted at him.

Shingen sighed. "I take it you rode through the night to get here?"

"After I got that disappointing letter from you, yes." Kenshin answered.

Sasuke was running up next to Kenshin. "I'm sorry Lord Shingen. I couldn't stop him."

"It's alright, Sasuke." Shingen replied. He then turned back to Kenshin. "What is it you want? You knew I was in talks with the Oda to form an alliance after they assisted in Ava's rescue."

"Yes, but...I didn't expect an agreement to come this soon." Kenshin answered. "And if you want me to join this alliance as well...you're going to have to fight me!"

"Kenshin..."

"No, you will not protest! If you don't fight me I will leave here as your enemy once more and we will fight to the death!"

"Lord Kenshin..." Sasuke tried to interject, but Shingen held up his hand.

"It's alright, Sasuke. Kenshin, if this is what it will take to get you to join this alliance, I will fight you. Let's go to the training hall."

Ava...

I finished with the embroidery of the Takeda crest on the baby blanket I had been working on. I held it up and smiled at my work. I then looked down at my swollen belly. "I can't wait to have you here and wrap you up in this blanket." I spoke to our unborn child and placed a hand on my belly.

I felt a kick then, right where my hand was. Almost as if the baby were responding. "Oh, are you excited?" I spoke again and then felt a few more kicks. I smiled and laughed. "You're getting quite active in there."

It was then that my stomach was letting out a growl. "Oh, must be lunch time...or maybe snack time, who knows at this point." I said aloud. Then I looked back down to my belly. "You're growing and making me eat so much more."

I was then folding up the blanket and setting it aside. I awkwardly pushed myself up into a standing position. It was starting to take more effort to move around my growing bump. I made my way to the kitchen and the staff excitedly put together a plate of snacks for me. I decided that I wanted to find Shingen and share the food...but maybe only a little of it. That and we hadn't really had the chance to spend much time together lately and I missed him.

I was wandering around looking for him and munching on my snacks as I did so, when I ran into Yoshimoto. "Oh, hey Yoshimoto." I greeted him with a smile.

He returned my smile with a beautiful one of his own. "Hello Ava." He replied. "Where are you headed?"

"I was just looking for Shingen. I picked up some snacks and was wanting to share with him. I figured he could probably use a break at this point."

"Well, I am sure he could use a break." Yoshimoto agreed. "Though I don't think a snack break will be enough."

"What do you mean?"

"Kenshin showed up and challenged him to a fight."

"Whatever for?" I asked, only half surprised.

"He says it's the only way he'll join the alliance with the Oda forces." Yoshimoto answered.

"I see." I replied. "That sounds like Kenshin."

"Indeed." Yoshimoto replied. "They are in the training hall right now. I was headed there to watch the performance. Shall I escort you?"

"Sure." I replied.

Yoshimoto and I walked to the training hall together and I continued to eat my snacks. By the time we reached the training hall, I had eaten every bite. "Well, looks like I won't be sharing."

Yoshimoto laughed. "I don't think he'll mind."

"Probably not." I agreed. Shingen actually seemed to be enjoying feeding me since I had become pregnant. He was almost as bad as Masamune actually.

We entered the training hall, where many people were gathered to watch Shingen and Kenshin face off. I could already hear the clash and clang of steal. Wait...they're not using practice swords? I thought to myself. Well, I'm sure Kenshin wouldn't have been satisfied with anything other than his real blade.

"Ava, Yoshimoto, over here."

Yoshimoto and I turned at the familiar voice calling to us. Sasuke stood over to one side, Yukimura beside him. I was also surprised when I saw Asuna there as well. "I'm surprised you came, Ava." Asuna said, looking at me.

"Well, I was looking for Shingen when I ran into Yoshimoto and he explained to me what was going on." I answered. I then looked over at Sasuke. "So, Kenshin wouldn't take no for an answer?"

"Does he ever?" Sasuke remarked. "I couldn't even get him to calm down with sake, pickled plums, and a banquet."

I nodded.

"I'm really surprised to see you here, Yoshimoto." Yukimura said.

"And miss the chance to witness the Tiger of Kai and the God of War, legendary rivals, face each other?" Yoshimoto replied. "Besides, Kenshin's blade is a piece of art. Seeing it in action is the only way to truly appreciate such a master-piece of a sword."

We were all then turning our attention to Shingen and Kenshin. When I looked at them fighting, I was reminded of the first time I ever saw Shingen in a fight, from the back of Nobunaga's horse. I smiled as I remembered how even though he had been the enemy commander at the time, how I couldn't take my eyes off of him...and how he had flirted with me even in the midst of battle.

The memory brought a smile to my face as I recalled the way he had winked at me. And just as then, now I couldn't take my eyes off of him. I watched as he used both hands to grip his great sword and swing it powerfully. I could see the beads of sweat forming on his brow. I could see his powerful muscles even beneath his clothes and armor.

I felt my breath catch in my throat and my heart picking up its pace. The intense look on his face, the way he fought, the way he moved, the strength I saw...Damn...is it hot in here or is it just me? I thought to myself.

"Ava, would you like to borrow my fan?" Yoshimoto's voice reached me.

I felt my face turn red with embarrassment. "Well...uhm...yes...that would be nice... thank you." I said as I took the offered fan from him and opened it.

"I don't think that fan is going to be enough." Asuna said. "I think I might need to go get a bucket of cold water to dump on her."

"That's enough." I replied, though I couldn't look at any of them. I could only keep my eyes on Shingen. Oh God, this is torture! I thought as I watched him. He's so...just woah...and Asuna still hasn't lifted her ban on sexy time!

Shingen and Kenshin's blades were locked. Shingen turned his head slightly, his eyes instantly found me. He smiled at me and gave me a wink just as he had in that first fight. I couldn't help the giggle that escaped me, which only made his smile widen.

Shingen then pushed Kenshin back with everything he had. The fight continued, neither of them making any win against the other. It went on for what felt like forever and I swear the room continued to get hotter. Asuna sighed as she went over and got in the middle of the fight, stopping it.

"I think that's enough. If this goes on any longer, you're both going to wear yourselves out and I think poor Ava might just combust." She declared.

I was furiously fanning myself by this point. "What? It's just...hot in here...plus pregnant women are prone to hot flashes." I remarked as I continued to use the borrowed fan.

Asuna looked at me. "Please, you started heating up the moment you looked at Lord Shingen."

My face began to turn red and so I hid behind the fan. Shingen just smiled.

"If Ava is getting too hot, perhaps she should just leave and let me finish this fight." Kenshin remarked looking at me.

"You know, last I checked I lived here and this is my home. You're the guest." I remarked.

Shingen's smile widened. He was then turning to Kenshin. "I gave you your fight, Kenshin."

Kenshin let out a huff. "Alright, but you'd better have some good sake and pickled plums."

"I already sent out for some after you walked in." Yukimura said. "It should be in the banquet hall right now."

"See, Yuki's on top of things." Shingen remarked.

Kenshin huffed. "Fine, I'll join your stupid alliance with the Oda."

Everyone began to file out of the training hall then. I turned to Yoshimoto to return his fan. "Thanks for letting me borrow this."

He held up a hand and shook his head. "No, I think you should keep that. I have plenty...besides I think you may need it more than I." He was then gracefully walking out of the room.

Shingen was walking over to me, taking my hand in his and bringing it to his lips. His eyes were on mine, warm and whispering seduction. "Had I known I would be showing off in front of my goddess, I would have tried harder." He said, his tone playful and flirtatious.

I suddenly had to start furiously fanning myself again.

"Do I need to dump cold water on both of you?" Asuna said, from behind Shingen.

I started having forgotten that she was even there.

"You dump it on Ava and I'll take care of Lord Shingen." Yukimura said from beside her.

"Are you suggesting we can't control ourselves?" Shingen asked.

"It just might be easier." Asuna replied.

I sighed. "It's been a month. I'm fine. The baby is fine. I keep getting a foot or something in my ribs." I said. "I've been taking it easy and following all of your instructions...can't you loosen up on this?"

"Ava..." Asuna began.

"Come on, you've been looking after me very closely since it happened. I've had no cramps, no bleeding. Everything is just fine. I feel fine."

Asuna let out a sigh. "Fine, but on the condition you guys take it slow and gentle. And if you even feel the slightest discomfort or anything, you stop."

"I would never be rough with my goddess." Shingen replied.

"What if your goddess asked?" I replied, unable to help myself.

Shingen smiled at me. "Well..."

"Yeah, well even if you do want to ask you can't tonight." Asuna said. "Gentle and slow. Got it you two?"

Shingen and I nodded. "Yes."

"I'm guessing you two won't be joining us for the impromptu banquet then?" Yukimura asked.

"No...and let everyone know to not disturb us for the rest of the day." Shingen answered. He was then scooping me up into his arms. "Shall we my princess?" He asked me, his voice pure seduction.

Despite the fact that we weren't alone, I found that I didn't care. I smiled up at him as I wrapped my arms around his neck. "To our room?"

Shingen grinned at me and gave me a gentle kiss on the lips. "As you wish." He was then carrying me out.

As we exited the training hall, I could hear Yukimura and Asuna. "I should probably warn everyone that they're going to want to stay away from that part of the palace."

"Probably not just for tonight but for the next few days." Asuna agreed.

Shingen carried me all the way to our room. Giving me light kisses on my forehead, lips, cheeks, and neck as we went. I returned his kisses with kisses and touches of my own, kissing his cheek, the side of his neck, the notch at the base of his throat, and the exposed part of his chest.

I could feel him shiver delightfully at the touch of my lips. "You've no idea what that does to me." He whispered in my ear.

When we finally made it to our room, Shingen shifted my weight so that he now held me with one arm. He used the other to slide the door closed behind us. I had to admit, him holding me with one arm was impressive, especially considering my increased weight from pregnancy. It was also a major turn on, adding fuel to the fire already burning within me.

Shingen took notice of this and lifted his free hand to gently stroke my cheek. Once again, even that gentle touch trailing heat over my skin and sending desire pooling low within me. "Are you enjoying this, my princess?" He asked me.

"You're the expert at reading people. What does my face say right now?" I replied.

Shingen smiled. "Your face says that you want me as badly as I want you." He answered.

"That would be a good read." I replied.

He carried me over to the futon and sat down. He then lowered me into his lap. "I promise, I will be gentle and take this slow." He told me, his fingers tracing along my jaw before coming to rest beneath my chin.

"I know." I replied, relishing in the feel of his touch.

"If anything feels off or you feel uncomfortable in any way, tell me my love." He spoke now, the love and concern in his eyes.

"I promise." I replied. "But I don't think anything is going to feel off...nothing feels more right than being with you."

Fire burned in Shingen's eyes as he gazed at me. He slowly drew in closer. "When you say things like that...it really tests my restraint." He replied, his warm breath washing over my lips as his hovered just millimeters away.

I couldn't wait any longer. I closed the short distance, pressing my lips to his. He smiled into the kiss as his arms wound around my waist. I flicked my tongue out over his lips until he parted his lips and welcomed my tongue inside and meeting it with his.

While we had shared many kisses and embraces since my rescue, there had been restraint there. The kisses hadn't been this passionate and I hadn't realized just how starved for Shingen I was until I finally had him. We parted after an immeasurable moment, both of us panting.

"I have missed kissing you like that." Shingen said to me, echoing my own thoughts.

"You're reading me once again. I was thinking the same thing." I replied. I was then turning in his lap so that I completely faced him, my legs wrapping around his waist.

Our lips met in another hungry kiss. He pulled back after a few moments only to bring his lips to my neck, trailing sweet and sensual kisses as he went. His hands found my sash and undid the knot, pulling it away. I pulled my kimono open for him, eagerly wanting his hands on my bare skin.

He pulled back from my neck and smiled at me, as he traced a finger along my collarbone. "I thought we were supposed to be taking things slowly, my angel." He teased.

"It's been too long." I replied. "I need your skin on mine." I was then reaching to undo his kimono.

Shingen chuckled warmly, his laughter washing over me like waves on the ocean. He didn't fight me as I undressed him. "It has indeed been too long." He agreed, pulling me back for another kiss once we were both bared.

The feeling of his flesh against mine, his hands roaming over my body, lavishing my curves with tender affection. His lips moved down my neck and to my breasts, where he tenderly nipped at the hard buds. I was so hot and already wet. "Shin...gen...please..." I moaned.

"Mmm...as you wish my love." He told me, as he gripped my hips. He guided me onto him.

A cry escaped my lips at the feeling of him inside of me after so long. He continued to lavish me in kisses as I bounced up and down on him. We both moaned as our pleasure continued to build.

In the next moments, Shingen had moved us so that I was now lying back on the futon. He was then thrusting into me. My hand sought his and we laced our fingers together as he continued to sweetly love me. Each thrust was long and deep. I could feel every last inch of him as he moved.

"Ah...mm...yes! Shingen...yes!" I cried out.

"Ava...my angel..." He called back.

We continued on for a while before finally cresting that last wave together. The pleasure was so intense, I was still twitching afterwards as we lay in the futon holding each other. Shingen kissed my forehead tenderly. "Are you feeling alright, my love?" He asked me.

I smiled. "Oh, I feel more than alright." I answered.

"I am glad to hear that."

I snuggled closer, enjoying the afterglow of our love-making. I could feel my eyelids growing heavy, though it was only midday. My body exhausted from finally getting the release it had been craving for weeks...or that may have just been the pregnancy...or a combination, I wasn't sure.

Shingen began to rub soothing circles in my back as he held me tighter. "Feeling tired?" He asked me.

"Maybe...just a little." I answered. "But I don't want to go to sleep yet."

Shingen chuckled. "Feel free to rest peacefully in my arms, my love." He told me. "If you wish, I can wake you with a kiss after you've napped for a while."

"But sleeping seems..." I let out a yawn then. "...like such a waste, when we finally got the all clear."

"I will just love you more when you wake up." He replied, kissing my brow once again. He then lifted a hand to the back of my head and began to massage my scalp.

"Mmm..." I murmured, my eyes closing. "That...feels...nice."

"Rest well, my princess."

Safe, warm, and satisfied, it wasn't long before I was falling asleep in Shingen's arms. Sweet dreams awaited me.

Shingen lay there holding his wife in his arms, gazing at her lovingly. The early afternoon sun spilled in from the open window, casting a heavenly golden glow about her. A tender smile came to his lips. "You truly are a sleeping angel." He whispered to her. "Definitely no siren."

After laying there for a while, just watching her sleep, Shingen gently untangled himself from his love and climbed out of bed. He knew she would likely be waking up soon and would probably be hungry. He put on his kimono and stepped out to find one of the maids. He requested food be brought to them in an hour before turning back to his sleeping wife.

He sat there and reached his fingers out to gently play with her now short strands of hair. It had already started to grow back out just a bit below her chin now. No matter what, he couldn't help but to feel that she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

The food was brought what seemed like a short while later and the smell was soon wafting over to their futon. Shingen could tell the moment the aroma reached Ava as she began to stir. "Hmm...that...smells...delicious." She muttered sleepily.

Shingen watched as her eyes gently fluttered open. They soon came to focus on him and he gave her a smile. "Did you sleep well?" He asked, his fingers still playing in her hair.

She returned the smile. "Yes...but what happened to you waking me up with a kiss? And why aren't you still in bed with me?" She asked, pouting playfully.

"I had a feeling that when you awoke, you might be hungry." Shingen answered.

Ava pursed her lips. "Well...I'm kind of always hungry right now so that was a good guess."

Shingen chuckled. "I did expect that I would still be able to wake you with a kiss though, but it appears I should have done that before the food arrived."

Ava's cheeks reddened. "It's not my fault...pregnancy can heighten a woman's sense of smell you know."

She's so adorable right now. Shingen thought. I can't help myself. He was then leaning down and placing a gentle kiss on her lips.

She looked up at him, her cheeks still red, but a smile on her face. She appeared to warm beneath his loving gaze. "What's that look on your face?" She asked.

"Just thinking about how adorable my wife is." He answered.

Ava was about to say something when her stomach let out a growl. "I guess the baby is telling me to eat." She said, a smile on her face.

Shingen was then helping Ava to get up and she slid on a robe before they sat back down to enjoy their meal together. She happily dug into the food, smiling the entire time. How can one person be so adorable? Shingen thought as he watched Ava eat the fish, rice and steamed vegetables. Everything she did was so cute.

She looked over at him as she finished her last bite of food. "That was delicious. I'm glad you had it brought in."

"Anything for my princess." He replied. He was then reaching up his hand to place his fingers beneath her chin. He traced her lower lip with his thumb. "Are you still hungry?" He asked.

He watched as Ava's eyes darkened in an attractive alluring way. Her lips parted and a slight gasp escaped them. "Not...for food." She answered.

Shingen smiled at her as he snaked his other arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him. "Good...we have a lot of time to make up for." He then captured her lips in a passionate kiss that was the beginning of yet another round of gentle love-making.

Reach Chapter 12 below:

https://writingwhimsey.tumblr.com/post/657335615431524352/the-tiger-and-the-oda-princess-ch-12

[super-hero-girls-netflix]

Jess and Pam fluff/angst? Btw love ur blog bro. This show deserves more love and seeing ur post makes me happy. 👁👄👁💖💖👌

Note: I'm glad my posts makes you happy.

The Art of Avoidance and the Cost, Confrontation.

Prompt: Jess/Pam fluff/angst. Jess just wanted Pam to wish her a happy birthday. Pam just wanted Jess to leave her alone. Of course, it's not that simple.

*Jess*

"Happy Birthday!"

Jess knew that she didn't have the most... consistent relationship with Pamela Isley. There were times when she was sure that Pam felt something not negative towards her. Especially after a successful protest when Pam would scrunch her lips in an effort to tamper her smile. Or when Jess said something particularly amusing and Pam would quirk her lips as she passed by.

"Maybe she didn't hear us? ...Happy Birthday!'

But of course those times paled to all the other times Pamela clearly stated that she hated Jessica Cruz's butt. Forgo all the times Pamela would ignore her texts or greetings- there were times when Pamela would state at her with complete and utter hatred usually when she was doing mundane stuff like eating her lunch (a salad, of course) or talking to one of her friends.

"Err, Babs- Jess looks a little...mad? Sad? Smad?"

"Smad isn't a word, Hal."

"No one asked you, Karen!"

"Ugh, I hate when you say my name like that-"

So truly, Jess shouldn't have expected Pam to acknowledge her birthday. She really shouldn't have. It was a hope that would surely lead to dissapointment. But it still hit harder than expected when the morning passed without Pam even casting her a side eye.

All of her friends were loud..! Obviously if Pam didn't know it was her birthday from the beginning she should by now-

"Jessica! Are you alright?"

Jess snapped to attention, finding Diana and her friends looking at her curiously from where they sat at the lunch table. Barry, Garth and Hal (the only boys who stuck around after congratulating her) where standing, also staring at her.

They all shifted their concerned gazes from her to her salad- which she speared so fiercely it tore clean through.

Pushing her lunch away, she said, "I'm sorry, what?"

"Are you alright?" Diana repeated deliberately.

Bobbing her head eagerly, she said, "Yes! I'm great!"

"You just stabbed your salad," noted Kara dryly. "Did it make you angry?"

Zee elbowed her but didn't say anything- also curious to hear Jess explain herself.

"I was... thinking."

Silence stretched across the table, not that Jess paid it much mind. She was back to furtively scanning the cafeteria for the petite jerk who refused to acknowledge-

Ah, there she was.

Pam Isley.

When someone walked into a room there is always someone who looks up to see who. A handful of someone's. But as that handful checked and quickly dismissed Pam from their ignorant minds...Jess kept staring.

Because... how could you not?

She was absolutely breathtaking. Her full pouted lips, soft seemingly pink hair, long full eyelashes covering the most amazing green orbs.

But more than that- Pam made the room complete.

And almost as if Jess' stare was a physical tangible thing- Pam's eyes immediately met hers.

.

.

.

*Pam*

Jess wasn't very subtle.

Pam knew that Jess had been eyeing her all day. Pam knew that Jess was expecting something of her today.

But honestly Jess was always expectant of Pam so really it was easy to deflect. Not. Never could anyone deny Jessica Cruz.

So, Pam decided, that she would greet Jess and get it over with-

"Jess, let's go to Sweet Justice after school to celebrate!"

Pam narrowed her gaze as Jess broke their eye contact to answer Barbara. Hareleen's...friend? Hareleen's important something.

Celebrate what?

"O-oh, sure. I'd like that."

Pam took a step closer. What were they going to celebrate?

"God, you're so old now." The dumb jock (Harry, was it?) teased, tugging at her hair.

Something stuttered in Pam's chest.

A realization.

God, you're so old now.

It was Jess birth-

"You only turn 18 once!"

So...Jess beaming at her in the hallway, staring right at Pam... waiting for Pam. It was because she wanted Pam go wish her a happy birthday?

They weren't even friends! We're they friends? They were something. Pam couldn't deny that there was something intoxicating about Jess' company. That when Jess ranted passionately it was engaging and cute. That when Jess looked down at her, her hair twirled around her finger-

What was she thinking about again?

Pam brought Phil closer to her face, asking the plant an important question. "Phil, do I...like Jess?"

If Phil had eyes he'd be rolling them if his exasperated 'No shit, Sherlock' was any indicator.

No....shit.

.

.

.

*Jess*

It had gotten worse. Pam was no longer not noticing Jess- she was avoiding her. Ever since her birthday, Pam avoided Jess like the plague.

It was taking a toll on Jess. She couldn't sleep, her anxiety was sky rocketing and she had been craving something... greasy.

At first, when Pam first dodged her, Jess was willing to wait her out. The petite girl might not be in the mood. But eventually one encounter missed became two. And then three and four and five. And Jess was no longer patient.

She was pissed. Really, very pissed.

So pissed that the books were liable to catch on fire because of her stormy temper. She quietly fumed, hiding behind a library shelf waiting for when she could finally secure and corner Pam.

(Pam had taken to walking through the library to avoid Jess instead of the populated hallways.)

What was up with Pam? Usually the girl would at least humor Jess for a bit if only to get her off her back. Was she sick? She did look awfully flushed everytime Jess nearly cornered her! God, this was infuriating.

She...just needed to know if Pam was OK.

T-then if Pam was still set on keeping Jes from her life... she'll back off. She can take a hint...she can. And...- If Pam hated her so much she shouldn't make her uncomfortable anymore.

Only if. Only if there wasn't a good reason for her avoidance.

There probably was!

But still...

Her body did it before her mind could commit itself to the act. Her arms reached out, pulled the girl into the aisle, turning them both, and effectively caging Pam. Pam had her back against the wall and was blocked a quick escape by both of Jess arm's.

A triumphant smile breaks across her face.

She did it!

.

.

.

*Pam*

For a second all she could focus on was the beatific smile Jess wore. Then she saw Jess' smile soften and her eyes focus.

Then she felt Jess' breath all over her forehead and- oh my ivy. She was too close.

Her face went hot.

"What the hell," she hissed, turning her head so Jess couldn't see how quickly she was going pink.

"I wouldn't have done this if you had just- are you ok? Your ears are red, and" Jess spread her fingers on Pam's cheek, "your face is hot."

Was breathing always this hard? Holy-

"I-I'm fine. Just move, you're way too close."

As if just realizing it Jess startled and moved back, but kept her arms braced on both sides of Pam's head. (How was it that Jess didn't notice when that was all that Pam could think about?)

(Feeling this way and knowing that Jess didn't even think of the possibility that Pam felt the way she did pissed her off.)

"What do you want?"

Jess blinked, hurt flashing in those hazel eyes before her gaze narrowed, "I want to talk to you. You've been avoiding me."

"No, I haven't."

Jess stared at her for a second, stunned by her blatant lie. "...yes. Yes, you have Pam. And I want to know why."

She was still too close.

"I've just been," madly in love with you, "...busy."

"That's BS and you know it!" Jess takes her arms back and hugs herself. "Just tell me if I did something wrong. Are you mad at me? What did I do? I don't like it when you're avoiding me like this. You're a very good friend to me-."

Friend, huh.

Friend.

Friend.

Yeah, well...do friends do this-

And without further thought, without permission, without even knowing what she was doing...Pam Isley, a girl who has never as much as held someone's hand in a romantic way, kissed Jessica Cruz.

.

.

.

*Jess*

There is a blissful stage of confusion. Before everything makes sense, no- before that. Before anything exists besides that one emotion.

That emotion, for Jess, was peace.

Before she realized what she was doing and who she was doing it with. Before she can tear back and ask Pam what she was doing even though it was fairly obvious but at least why- Pam pulled back first.

"W-what?"

"I'm not mad," there was an angry insane look in Pam's eyes. "I just don't think I can be friends with you anymore."

Jess, cheeks still hot, was indignant. "And why not?!"

Pam ducked away from Jess and began backing away, "I think it would make me very unhappy."

And Jess finally realized why.

Pam liked her.

Pam liked liked her.

Pam who loved the Earth.

Pam with those green eyes.

Pam. Pam.

Pamela.

Pam turned to face her, eyebrow quirked.

Did she say that out loud.

"What now?" Her.... Pam's lips were trembling in an effort to remain still.

Jess wanted to still those lips with her teeth.

Heat burned the inside of her face.

Oh wow.

Pam started to turn to walk away but Jess latched onto her wrist. She had such a thin wrist. She really needed to eat better-

"Say what you need to say so I can leave."

"You like me then?"

"Anything but that."

"What kind of person leaves after dropping a bomb like that on someone?!" Indignation made her chest swell and she stepped closer to Pam, using her grip Pam's wrist to pull them closer. "You should at least give them a second so they can think of how to react to that-"

Pam looked at her, stunned. Then, annoyed she rolled her gorgeous eyes and said, "Can you just shut up-"

"Make. Me."

Jess was panting with emotion and Pam's eyes were wide and her gaze flickered from Jess' eyes to her grip on the wrist and to Jess' lips.

Jess bit her lip.

Pam stared at her mouth.

They just stood there. Jess swallowed. "B-back to the topic.." What were they talking about again? "Uhm, right..! Well, it's unfair of you-"

"You already said that," a resigned smirk colored Pam's face.

"R-right. Well..."

"I'm not asking you to return my feelings-."

"You're not giving me much of a choice!"

A hand thumped on the bookshelf and they startled guiltily apart and whirled around to see who it was interrupting them.

"Shhh!" The librarian hissed, eyes narrowed before stalking off to lecture some poor kid.

Pam was hugging herself, hands twisting the material of her sweater. "What do you mean I'm not giving you a choice?"

.

.

.

*Pam*

"Well, you are so insistent that I won't return your feelings..." Jess looked at her, unimpressed. "It kind of feels like I'm not allowed to."

"You are."

It's embarrassing how desperate she sounds. But Jess must dig desperation since she grinned, pulled Pam closer. Hands cupping her cheeks, one pausing to brush her pink hair behind Pam's red ear.

Oh... Jess was teasing her.

That wouldn't do.

So then with just as much purpose as before, Pam pulled Jess down and their lips met again.

This was such a mess. But with Jess so close and soft and pliant under her hands. It's okay. Messy was ok. Right now. In that moment, Messy was perfect.

[zukkkaashipper]

Falling hard

It had started as a blind date set up by one of their mutual friends, Toph. Right now, they were on their fifth date and Sokka could honestly say that the past month of dating Zuko had been the most amazing month of his life. Zuko was smart and funny in an ‘I’m not trying to be funny’ kind of way. He had been extremely shy at first, which had been adorable and had felt like a bit of a challenge to Sokka. All his friends could tell you Sokka was not one to back down from a challenge. However, the more time he spent with Zuko the less it felt like a challenge he had to win, but more like a need to get to know Zuko better. Adorable, smart, beautiful Zuko.

There had just been one issue, Sokka wasn’t sure Zuko felt the same way. Whenever Sokka got too close, touched him just a little bit too intimate, Zuko would freeze up and pull away. Sokka had started to doubt the connection he felt to Zuko as well as his seduction skills. But sitting here across from Zuko at the dinner table Sokka could care less about the physical aspect of their relationship. Just looking at Zuko shyly ducking his head with a small smile on his face, because of some stupid joke Sokka made was enough for now.

“What is it?” Zuko asked, when he looked up and noticed that Sokka was still looking at him.

“you’re cute,” Sokka shot back with a flirty smile. Once again, Zuko ducked his head and a crimson blush crept on his face.

“So, how has your week been? I haven’t seen or heard much from you the past few days,” Sokka continued once it was clear Zuko wasn’t going to respond to Sokka’s previous comment.

“It was fine, I’ve just been super busy with this new play. I’m sorry.”

“Did you get the part you wanted?” Sokka asked excitedly.

He knew Zuko’s major was a bit of a sore spot with his family. Zuko had told him about it on their 3rd date after a few glasses of wine. It had taken him a while to get through his story and Sokka had had to piece some parts of it together himself. As far as Sokka could tell Zuko’s dad was a hard-ass and had never once encouraged Zuko to do what he had wanted to do. Instead, he had pushed him to become a lawyer like his dad and his big sister and they had treated him like a pariah when he told them that he wanted to study arts. Zuko hadn’t spoken to his family in over 2 years, once he started at uni. The only person from his family Zuko still had contact with was his uncle, Iroh. From what Zuko had told him, Iroh was awesome. Supportive and kind. He had treated Zuko like he was his own son and had been so proud when he decided to major in theater. Iroh was his biggest fan, Zuko had told Sokka proudly.

“I did,” Zuko said. He would probably never admit it, but Sokka could see a proud glint in his eyes.

“That’s amazing! We should celebrate. Uhm champagne? Waiter!” Sokka raised his hand to wave over the waiter, “could we have two glasses of champagne please?”

The waiter nodded and disappeared to get the champagne. Zuko smiled at him again and Sokka felt a little bit weak in his stomach.

“You gotta tell me when it is! I want to come watch.”

Sokka could literally see the emotions cross over Zuko’s face. Shock, disbelief, hope, excitement.

“The play is only in 5 months,” Zuko mumbled and suddenly Sokka realized that maybe he had been too forward, pushed too hard again. He basically just told Zuko he hoped that they would still be seeing each other in months. It was true, Sokka really was hoping that he would still be seeing Zuko. But what if Zuko would pull away again and freeze up. At the moment, it didn’t look like Zuko wanted to pull away, so Sokka decided to take another change.

“Well, I can’t wait to see you in that play. You’ll be amazing, I know it.”

Sokka wanted to reach across the table to take Zuko’s hand, but he was afraid that would be pushing too much too fast. So he didn’t. He kept his hands on his side of the table and forced himself to take a deep breath. In the meantime, the waiter had returned with the champagne.

“Cheers! To you Zuko,” Sokka said while reaching half-way across the table so they could clink their glasses together.

“To us,” Zuko said quietly. He didn’t look at Sokka when he said it, which was a good thing, because Sokka could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks. Ok, so he wasn’t making this all up in his head. That’s good.

“To us,” Sokka repeated. Zuko looked up and gave him another one of his shy smiles and Sokka smiled back enthusiastically.

The rest of the dinner went smoothly. They talked some more about their families, their studies, and the places they would like to travel to the most. For Sokka, these places were mostly cold and snowy, like Greenland and Norway and Alaska. For Zuko it was the complete opposite. He wanted to go to Hawaii and Italy, as long as it was hot. They laughed about this for a while and Sokka made the stupid joke that they would never be able to go on holiday together. He realized his mistake as soon as he said it. Zuko’s face fell and he retreated in on himself. Sokka spent the rest of their dinner trying to get back to the carefree atmosphere they had before he had opened his big stupid mouth and ruined everything.

After dinner, they walked back to campus together. Sokka tried brushing their hands together, so he could gauge Zuko’s reaction. Every single time he would even softly graze Zuko’s hand, Zuko would jump and pull away again. Sokka sighed to himself and looked at Zuko sideways. He was getting so many mixed signals, he really didn’t know what to think anymore.

They had arrived at Zuko’s room. The uncomfortable silence dragged on and Sokka had become too self-aware to even try to go in for a kiss. Zuko awkwardly said goodbye and gave a small wave before he ducked inside. Sokka let out another disappointed sigh and started the journey to his own shared dorm room.

Aang was laying upside down on his couch groaning and looking at his laptop angrily.

“Hey buddy, whatcha doing?” Sokka asked.

“Oh! hi Sokka,” Aang perked up. “I’m just finishing my paper on coral bleaching and how it affects so many aspects of the ecological system and the poor aquatic animals. They deserve better! And hardly anyone cares. How can they not care about the animals!”

“I know buddy,” Sokka patted Aang on his head and sat down on the couch next to him.

“How was you date! Did it go well? Did you finally get to kiss him?” Aang asked excitedly.

Sokka pulled a face and Aang’s face fell a little at that as well.

“He just.. He’s so frustrating. At one point we’re laughing and I swear he is flirting with me, but the moment I get too close or try to touch him, even just to hold his hand, he pulls away! Maybe he just doesn’t feel the same thing I’m feeling. What if he just wants to be friends and I’m just reading the situation completely wrong. What if I’m misinterpreting everything and he just doesn’t have the heart to tell me,” Sokka groaned. “I really don’t know what to do, Aang.”

Sokka dropped his head on the back of the couch, groaned again and covered his head with his hands. He felt like a complete idiot.

“I’m sorry Sokka. I’m sure Zuko has a good reason to act the way he does. Maybe you’re right and he just wants to be friends, but I honestly doubt it from what you’ve told me,” Aang said with wide, honest eyes.

“Don’t you remember what an insecure mess I was when I was dating Katara? I over-analyzed every single thing she said, every small touch and I just didn’t know what to think and what to do. The only way you’ll find out what it is that’s bothering him by talking to him. You’re a very affectionate and touchy person, Sokka, maybe Zuko just isn’t like that. Just talk to him about it!”

“Please, everyone could see how smitten you and Katara were for each other. The only ones who couldn’t see it were you and Katara,” Sokka said incredulously.

Aang smiled softly to himself, remembering that time. Aang and Katara had been together for a long time now and they were so cute together, although Sokka would never admit that out loud. He was really happy that Katara had found such a good guy to take care of her and he hadn’t seen his sister as happy as she was when that goofball was around. Sokka would never admit this either, but he was jealous. He wanted that with someone. No, not someone, he wanted that with Zuko. And that thought was just incredibly terrifying, wasn’t it? He still hardly knew Zuko. Zuko wasn’t someone to get to know easily. You had to prick through all the layers and all the walls Zuko had build over the years, but Sokka found that he wanted nothing more than to break all those walls down and get to know more about the mysterious, shy and incredibly gorgeous boy.

Sokka knew Aang was right and that he wouldn’t get an answer without talking to Zuko, but he couldn’t. You could say that his ego was too big for it, but Sokka didn’t think that was the problem. It’s just that he hadn’t felt this way about anyone. Sokka had had girlfriends before and a fling here and there, but all of his relationships always ended because they realized they would work better as friends. But the thought of him and Zuko just being friends, that just hurts. He couldn’t put himself through that. Not after what happened to his mom. He could never feel as lost and hurt and sad as he did the day his mother died. So maybe it was better this way, to net get closer to Zuko, because it could only hurt more, right?

So, that night while Sokka was laying in bed, overthinking as usual, he decided he would wait for Zuko to contact him. He could do that, he could not text Zuko. He would just have to delete Zuko’s number, probably. Just to be sure.

A week went by and Sokka still hadn’t heard anything from Zuko, which only enhanced Sokka’s suspicions that he had read the situation completely wrong. Sokka tried to move and forget Zuko, but everywhere he looked he saw something that reminded him of Zuko. Sokka had never felt like such a useless and pathetic person in his life. How could he have gotten so attached to someone so fast? This never happened to Sokka. Sokka didn’t get attached easily. Honestly, it had taken months to get used to Aang’s bubbly nature. As well as at least a few weeks to get used to Tophs bluntness. In short, it just took Sokka a while to really get used to someone. Sokka always liked people, he was a social guy, but he just had a hard time really trusting someone. Afraid they would leave or something.

But not with Zuko, Sokka was completely smitten within the first two dates.  

It took another week before Sokka came face to face with Zuko once again. He walked into the coffeeshop on campus where Katara worked, together with Aang, when he saw Zuko sitting across from Toph. They appeared to be having an intense conversation and Zuko was gesturing wildly. Before Zuko could drag Aang to Katara at the counter, Aang was already on his way to greet Toph and Zuko.

“Hi guys!” Aang chirped. He sucked up his pride and followed Aang reluctantly to their table.

“Twinkle toes,” Toph greeted Aang. “Oh, and Sokka you’re here too,” Toph said in a tone Sokka couldn’t quite place. Sokka was still amazed Toph was able to tell who was in the room, even after all this time. Zuko froze up the minute he saw Sokka and he didn’t even look at him. Sokka felt anger bubbling up inside of him. If Zuko didn’t want to date him that was fine, but ignoring him and acting like he wasn’t even there? Sokka deserved better than that.

“Hello Zuko, good to see you again,” Sokka said in a tone that was maybe a little bit too harsh, because he saw Zuko flinch.

“Hi,” Zuko said under his breath.

“Whatever,” Sokka mumbled and turned away from Zuko and walked over towards the counter. Aang followed him after a few seconds.

“That was a bit harsh, don’t you think?” Aang asked cautiously.

Sokka didn’t respond. He didn’t want to think about stupid Zuko, with his stupid sexy scar and his stupid smile anymore. He focused on Katara and catching up with her. He ordered some way too sweet drink and tried not to look back towards the boy in the corner. When he finished his drink and couldn’t stop himself from searching Zuko again, he realized they had left. The pit in his stomach only grew bigger after that. He was an idiot.

This went on for days. Sokka feeling bad about himself and missing Zuko, so he locked himself inside his room whenever he could. Gaming with Aang or watching murder mysteries by himself in the dark.

This night wasn’t any different he was rolled up in his blanket staring blankly at the tv, which was playing another murder mystery. It was storming outside. The rain was beating against his window and every now and then the sky was lit up by a bolt of lightning. Suddenly, he heard a soft knock on his door. Thinking it was Aang he didn’t move and told him to come in, only to be met with the sight of a drenched Zuko dripping on his carpet. His hair was laying flat against his face and Sokka couldn’t stop his stupid brain from thinking how cute he looked like that. Sokka shot up from his bed until he was standing right next to it staring at Zuko.

For a few seconds neither of them moved. Both too afraid to be break the tense atmosphere that surrounded them. They just stood there looking at each other. After what seemed like forever Sokka’s stupid mouth betrayed him yet again.

“Zuko? What are you doing here?”

Zuko didn’t respond immediately. He seemed to be gathering his thoughts. He looked at Sokka as if it were the last time he was going to see him. He seemed to take in everything about him. Looking over Sokka’s body to his face, lingering on his lips and the looking up into his ice blue eyes. Zuko’s eyes held his gaze, Sokka couldn’t look away. Zuko’s golden eyes were just too captivating and Sokka thought to himself what a shame it would be if this were the last time he got to look at them.

“I-I.. I’m sorry for barging in here like this. I just, I hate not talking to you, not seeing you. I guess, I j-just wondered what I did wrong. Tell me what I did to screw this up. I know I’m not the most fun guy to hang around, b-but I uh I thought were doing ok. Did I just misread the entire situation? Did I say something or do something to upset you. I-I’m going crazy trying to figure out what I did. I need, I just need you to t-tell me, please,” Zuko pleaded and Sokka could see the desperation in his eyes.

It only took his brain a minute to catch up to the words that just came out of Zuko’s mouth. He’s afraid he did something wrong. Wait. Does that mean that he didn’t want it to go wrong. What is happening?

“I just didn’t think you actually liked me,” Sokka admitted. “You pulled away every time I tried to hold your hand. If I flirted with you, you froze up. I just thought that maybe you only wanted to be friends or that I was misreading the situation. You just didn’t seem that into it.”

“No! No!” The words flew out of Zuko’s mouth, seemingly without his consent. His eyes went wide and he seemed to make a decision.

“I really enjoyed all the time we spent together. I’m just, I haven’t been out for a long time and still not. My uncle knows and Toph knows too. But you, you are so out and open and proud of who you are and I’m just, argh why is this so hard..” Zuko groaned frustratingly to himself.

“I’m just not comfortable with the touching in public. I don’t think I’ve ever been comfortable in my own skin, but this? This is completely new to me! I just wanted, no I needed to take it slow. I-I like you Sokka, a lot. Probably more than I should at this point and that scares me, ok?”

The words seemed to stumble out of Zuko’s mouth and Sokka stared at him in shock. He had never heard so many consecutive words coming out of Zuko’s mouth and his story sounded so much like Sokka’s own. The insecurity and the feelings. God, they sounded like high school girls. No offence to high school girls, they probably would have handled this situation better than Sokka had.

Sokka stepped forward and slowly reached for Zuko’s hands. This time Zuko didn’t pull them away, but let his small hands rest into Sokka’s much larger ones.

“I like you too, a lot. You’re smart and you’re funny and you’re gorgeous. I guess I j-just felt afraid. I’m not used to liking someone so much and then it felt like you didn’t like me like that and I guess that just hurt me ego or something,” Sokka babbled.

“We’re both idiots, aren’t we,” Sokka said while leaning downward so he could put his forehead against Zuko’s.

“I guess we are,” Zuko said looking up into Sokka’s eyes.  

“Zuko,” Sokka whispered, “can I kiss you?”  

Sokka felt Zuko’s breath catch and he saw his eyes flick to his lips. He nodded shyly and leaned in just the tiniest bit. Sokka caught Zuko’s pretty mouth with his own and kissed him softly. He let his tongue slide over Zuko’s lips slowly and the smaller boy let out a small gasp. Sokka took that opportunity to slip his tongue into Zuko’s mouth and he wrapped his arms around Zuko’s waist. The smaller boy moaned softly, leaned into Sokka and put his arms around his neck.

After what felt like forever, but also like no time at all, they slowly pulled away from each other. They relished in their closeness and held each other close.

“I-I’m gonna need to take this slow,” Zuko said.

“Sweetheart, as long as you kiss me like that when we’re alone, we can take it as slow as you want,” Sokka said with a grin.

Zuko smiled and shyly leaned up again to give Sokka a quick peck.

Sokka would stay here forever if he could, wrapped up in Zuko without the prying eyes of others. Sokka felt lucky to be the person Zuko wanted to be with intimately. And he truly meant what he said. He would take it as slow as Zuko wanted, because all Sokka wanted was to get to know the beautiful boy better. Who knows, maybe one day they would be able to kiss in public. Maybe even at Aang and Katara’s wedding. But for now Sokka felt content and he would take everything Zuko wanted to give.

[roseelise]

“You are a living work of art, Jughead Jones.” J.J  (part 2)

Reposting all my writings from @r0s3mm, my main blog, it is not stolen or plagiarized. All my works on my masterlist are main unless stated otherwise. 

Hello! Welcome to 2-h, the back up account of @r0s3mm, I’ll be posting my works on here too until (hopefully) my blog gets restored and if not this will become my main blog. 

Pairing:Jughead Jones x reader 

Word Count: 2265

Author’s note/warnings: language, kissing? 

*********************************

“Would I be naked ?” “No, of course not, I want you to feel comfortable. You’ll probably be just shirtless.” I said hope bubbling inside of me. “Who’s gonna be there ?” “Us. Only you and I. I swear.” “Alright I’ll do it. But you owe me.” He said before letting himself fall on my bed.

“Jug ! Juggie !” I called for him in the school’s hallway.

“Hey.” He turned around and saw the way I was dressed. “So,-” “What the hell happened to you ?” He asked as he saw that I was wearing a baby blue pyjama pants and a yellow flannel. “Yeah, hum, I’ve been up all night to put up some sketches before we do the shoot.” I talked really fast. “What are you running on to talk like that ?” He let out a low chuckle. “A few cups of black coffee.” I said as the bell rung. “But you don’t even like coffee.” “I know. Anyway Ms.Evans, that’s my art teacher, gave us two other weeks to do it because she wants multiple shots for each student.” “How many do YOU want ?” He smiled at me knowingly. “What’s that supposed to mean ?” I asked as I hurried my already late self to my locker. Jughead hot on my trail. “I know you, if your teacher wants three shots, you’ll do ten so that after you’ll be able to choose three of them and the rest you’ll put it in the album you keep on you computer.” He glanced down at my body and shook his head.

As I rolled my eyes, we entered the class with B and V.

When we all arrived at my house after school, Archie and Veronica placed themselves on the love seat, Betty and I went in the kitchen for glasses of water while Jug looked in my fridge for some kind of heavy snack.

“Ok guys so, friday night ! What do we do ?” I asked my two best friends.

They shrugged and we joined Archie and Veronica in the living room, who were in a full make out session.

“Come on !” Jughead sighed. “You guys are unbelievable.” Betty mumbled.

Seeing that neither of them moved I sat next to them and pulled Ronnie away from the redhead and made her sit on me.

“You won’t move anymore.”

We were three in the love seat Betty was laying on the three seat couch, almost sleeping and Jughead was sitting on the smallest couch that would normally fit only one human being.

“I wanna watch a movie. What should we watch ?” Ronnie said standing up. “Hum.. So- (y\n) ? Where are all of your movies ?” “There ..?! Why ?” “Because there’s only old stuff.” “Yeah, because that’s what I watch. Just put Pulp Fiction on and it’ll be good.” “I don’t get you guys ..” She sighed standing up and coming to sit with Arch and I. “What ?” “Jug and you. You guys have that obsession with old movies.” “They’re great.” We both said at the same time, looked at each other and it made me blush a bit.

Half an hour after we started the movie, Arch and Ronnie were taking a lot of place on the love seat and Betty was completely asleep on the couch. I took a heavy blanket and sat on the floor, my back against Betty’s couch.

“Tss” I heard to my left.

I looked up and Jug was frowing at me.

“What ?” I asked in a whisper. “What are you doing on the floor ?” He asked in the same tone. “There’s no place.” “Come sit with me.”He patted is lap. “What no, you’ve got just enough room for yourself.” “I don’t care come on “Jughead I said no. I’m ok here.”  

After another twenty minutes my butt started to feel numb, so I stood up and walked to my best friend who had placed himself so I could sit on his lap, his arms finding their place around my wait resting on my lap.

“Jug what time is it ?” “Barely 5:45.” He whispered.

I looked at our friends, Betty was still sound asleep on our right, Archie and Veronica were talking quietly.

“We’re the only ones listening.” I noticed as I turned to look at him.

He turned at the same time and our noses would have brushed together if one of us moved.

“Yeah.” He breathed out.

Our heads were still turned toward each other. Like in some sort of trance we couldn’t get out of.

“I’m- i’m quite hungry right now, uhm, would you like something ?” I asked him as his eyes went from my (y\e\c) eyes to my lips. “I’- i’m good. Thanks.” He said, his voice barely above a whisper.

I walked to the kitchen and drank a glass of water.

“We saw that.” Veronica said. “Saw what ?” “That almost kiss between you and Jughead. Archie and I saw it.” “That was nothing.” “Yeah sure. I haven’t seen someone glance at someone else’s lips so many times.” She winked at me when Betty’s sleppy body got in the kitchen. “I think the boys are plotting against us.” “Why ?” I asked. “When I woke up, you guys weren’t there and Arch was talking to Jug with a smug look on his face and when I stood up they stopped.” “Do you know what they were talking about ?” V asked B. “Heard your name, why ?” Betty pointed to me. “Because our little (y\n) had a moment a few minutes ago.” “WHAT ?” She shrieked. “Shut up jesus and Ronnie it wasn’t a moment.” “Yeah sure. You guys were almost eyes fucking with your bottom lip bitten by your teeth and his eyes looking more at your lips than me when I look at Louboutins.” “Oh my god really ? You guys had a momen-” I threw her a piece of bread when the boys came in.

“What are you girls talking about ?” Archie asked looking at his raven haired girlfriend. “N-nothing that concerns you.” I said not bothering to look at Jughead. “What about Jug. Does it concern him ?” “W-what ? No ! It’s none of your business what we were talking about.” I said turning my body towards the fridge.

From an outsider point of view the five teenagers would be living a whole other story.

He’d see a red head and a raven headed couple trying to break two of their best friends, they would see a blonde girl, an amused look on her face along with one of pure concern for her (y\h\c) friend, talking about her. The outsider would look at the teenager and think that she was being scolded by her parents. She wouldn’t look up to the raven haired boy, nor would she muttered more than a few words.

But then, he would see the infamous raven haired boy, who couldn’t take his eyes off of his best friend. He’d look at her like she was the most beautiful person in the whole world and she was, to him. Because he knew her inside and out. Jughead never really thought about her that way, he always knew he liked the girl, that he had a crush on her, but when, a few minutes ago, he was so close to her. He knew that he loved her and that he had been gone for quite a while.

It was around dinner time, when everyone was gone except her model for the night,  that she started to draw ideas for him to do later that night.

“You know you’ll have to talk to me, sometimes, right ?” Jughead asked from his sitting position on her bed. “I know.” She muttered still not looking at him.

Her whole body stiffened when she felt his warmth on her back.

“What are you doing, Jug ?” She breathed out. “Glad you still remember my name.” He chuckled, which made her chuckled too. “You’re not funny.” She said as her whole body relaxed at the familiarity of their exchange. “I am, you know it and you love it.” “Why so confident ?” She asked him as she turned to face him, but was surprised when she saw that he was at the same heigh as her.

She took back her pencils and paper and walked away from him as she sat on her bed.

“Ok so I thought we could accentuate the features on your abdomen, your jaw and your cheekbones.” She said, voice low, sketching over a poorly done portrait of the man. “You’re not gonna put make up on me are you ?” “I don’t really have make up, Jug. I’ll use body paint with warm tones a little bit darker than your skin color. Then I’ll just put colors all over and take some shots at certain steps so it creates a bit of diversity.”

He nodded then sighed before taking another bite of the now cold pizza on the dresser. He helped her set up her photography equipment, such as the lights and the different lenses.

“Can I- Jug, can I abuse of the opportunity you’re giving me this week end and- “ “What do you want me to do, (y\n) ?” “I want you to, full on model for me. Like the big actors do.” She asked searching his face for any denial.

He knew he couldn’t exactly tell her no. He wasn’t able to do it.

“Inspired by some of the James Dean’s photo I saw the other day.” She informed him. “James Dean ? Have you seen the guy ?” “Yes, in fact I did.” “And you think -” “Jug, listen to me and if you start reciting me the “I’m a weirdo” speech I swear on my own head that I’ll burn that beanie down to ashes. You are one of the most beautiful person I’ve had the chance to see in my whole freaking life and I don’t know how you still don’t see that.”

She said before going to her closet and getting out clothing of leather, dark outfits and all sorts of accessories and clothes.

“Is that a cigarette ?” “Yes, but you won’t light it. It’s just for the aesthetics.”

Five hours later the traits were accentuated, shirts have been on and off and lights have been adjusted. She was finally done and told him that if she had to make some touch ups, she’ll text him.

“Ok, so what do you wanna do ?” She asked him as he got out of the ensuite bathroom.

She raised her head from the editing program on her laptop to see Jughead shirtless, even though she had seen him without a shirt all night long it was different because she was in a work mode, but now. He was ruffling his dark hair with a towel and was dressed with a flannel pajama pants that started to get lower on his hips.

He sat on the bed in front of her and looked at her, his eyes observing every single detail of her face. He leaned in and searched her eyes for any non-verbal refusal from her. When he saw she was too focused on his lips he finally connected them together.

His lips, surprisingly soft, had this subtle taste of the sugary juice he drank a few minutes before his shower, her nose was filled with the scent of her shower gel he used. It wasn’t one of those Hollywood kisses where theres was big fireworks and where their hearts were beating hard and fast. They both knew it was the right time and place for this closed lips kiss. A few seconds after, they pulled apart and smiled softly at each other. They were content with what happened and knew to never talk about it.

“Blonde.” She whispered. “What ?” “Blonde would look good on you. It would fit your eyes.” She smiled at him.

The week that passed was complete hell, (y\n) hadn’t properly seen her friends except from the time when they were in school. Outside of those hours she would be at the studio, developping her photos and getting help with other minor projects. She also had tons of homework to do, Betty recently asked her to helped her on the Blue and Gold and be their official photographer. Between all of that she didn’t really have time to hang-out with her friends, also she was asleep by 8:30 so that really didn’t help. Saturday morning, (y\n) went out, seeing as this was her only moment of calm and walked, camera hung around her neck she snapped  sceneries that would look good on her already full bedroom wall.

“Hey there stranger.” She heard a voice say.

She turned around to see her three friends.

“Hi guys !” She greeted them with a smile. “So, you’re avoiding us now or what ?” Ronnie asked her. “No, no guys I swear. I’m sorry if you thought that-” She dropped the camera on her stomach. “(Y\N\N), it’s fine. We were just wondering what happened to you this week so.” “Yeah, sorry about that. Miss Evans liked Jug’s portrait so much she asked me to help other students and finish other projects and it was just crazy.” “Right, so what are you doing ?” “Abusing of the calm that reigns over Riverdale. Hey have you seen Jug ? Haven’t talked to him in a bit.” “Well we were heading to Pop’s actually. Wanna join ?” “Sure”

[growntolovesecrecyfic]

Grown to Love Secrecy - Chapter Two (Petekey)

Can be read here.

Summary:  Mikey Way hates Oscar Wilde but Pete Wentz convinces him to read The Picture of Dorian Gray.

Chapter Two: Walking on Fire

--

Pete spent a lot of summers in cramped vans, and hotel rooms with sweaty dudes and expensive musical instruments and this summer is no different. The slight homoerotic tension between Pete and almost every dude he’s ever met is strong, not that Pete or any of his friends minded.

They all kiss sometimes and most of the time the press pays not mind as it’s not that big of a deal and other times tabloids have him and his friend kissing on the front cover everywhere with the F-slur painted across in bright red telling the world, “Hey, look! Pete Wentz kisses dudes!”

The tabloids have a lot to say and quite frankly, he doesn’t care anymore. All press is good press, right?

Pete spits into the sink of the Walmart bathroom that other bands from Warped have occupied that morning. Today was Patrick’s day on the bus bathroom.

He rinsed his mouth and stepped aside, letting Andy take the sink for his own routine. He walks over to the wall where Joe is and leans against it. The eggshell-colored wall was cooled against his hot skin after being out in the Dallas heat.

“Hey, man.” Joe greeted Pete to which he responded with a nod, “so any plans for after our set?” Pete thought for a moment, remembering that he did in fact have plans with Mikey tonight. Not that anybody in the band needed to know that.

“No, not that I know of. You?” Pete asked while fiddling with the drawstrings of his clandestine pajama pants. Joe shrugged before responding, “Just regular life on the Warped, you know?”

Pete nods and they exchange some more small talk and soon enough, Andy joins them, and they’re ready to take on Warped.

As they exit the Walmart, they pass families whose kids stare in adoration and parents stare in disgust. It’s not that uncommon for people to recognize them. Fall Out Boy was getting big fast and it did stress them out as they felt the pressures from their record label to push out a new album as soon as possible to keep the momentum going. Warped is their salvation for that summer. No record label, you’re constantly busy doing the thing you love and sometimes you’re in bumfuck nowhere and nobody knows who you are, those are the best kind of places.

After walking out into the parking lot, the trio realize that they’ll need to find some place to eat before their set that morning. They have three hours to kill before practice and without a car and Patrick still on the bus, it is their civic duty to fuel up now and get Patrick something he’ll like, like oatmeal or something.

And later that morning when Pete met a fan who was uncontrollably crying and threw up on his shoes, he could tell that it was going to be a painfully long day.

And he was right. After their set, they met with some fans and he had some run ins with some reporter asking about Jeanae or whatever her name was. He chooses to forget those years in his life. He ignores her texts, fake pregnancy positives and whatever sexual favor she asks of him that day. It’s been pissing him off that entire day and he wanted to let off steam. The only positive that came from that day was Patrick buying him some new underwear for a late birthday gift and his new fuckbuddy, Mikey Way. He promised to meet with him tonight and Mikey told him that the bus was empty. Pete feels that he’ll finally cop a feel tonight.

Laughter and The Smiths fills the My Chemical Romance bus however the guys were nowhere to be found except for a pair of boys at the back of the bus on the floor, “Rusty? Really?” Mikey asked and Pete just responded with grin and nodded enthusiastically.

Mikey shook his head, “Nuh-uh, I don’t believe it one bit. You don’t even look like a Rusty!” Mikey accused.

“Dude trust me! I would have been Rusty Wentz!” Pete cringed a bit at the thought but turned into a fit of laughter after seeing Mikey clutch his stomach and roll over on his side, hand covering his mouth trying to contain his laughter.

After a few minutes, the laughter finally died down. Mikey removing his glasses to wipe his eyes and Pete coughed as he tried to catch his breath before something caught his eye.

“What’s that, Mikeyway?” Pete asked. He points at an object to show to Mikey where it is.

Mikey turns to see where Pete was point at, “Oh, that’s some book that Gerard has been trying to get me to read but never did.” He answers as he gets up and gets it from his bunk. He sits on his bed and goes through the pages, “I have beef with Oscar Wilde.”

Pete chortles at Mikey’s last statement as he sits on the bed next to him, “Yeah? I love him. He’s one of my favorite writers.”

Mikey looks up at older man, furrowing his brows and slowly handing him the book, “Really? Never thought you were the type.”

“To what? Read?” Pete joked.

Mikey was quick to defend himself, “No! I never thought you were into this type of literature. It’s darker and like a horror, I guess? I think that’s why Gerard likes it so much.” He moves closer to Pete, hesitant to lay his head on his shoulder but swallows his doubts and gently place his cheek against his right shoulder.

Pete smiled, eyes moving from the book and on Mikey now, “Do you mind if I read this to you? Maybe I can learn you a thing or two.” His grin was wider now, and Mikey couldn’t help but smile back at him. He loves this. He loves that it’s them. Them alone. And with him.

“Sure. Maybe you can teach me how to love Oscar Wilde at the end of this?” Mikey asks. Pete only laughs, “I can’t teach you to that. It’s up to you if you want to love him. You chose to hate him so why not choose to love him?” Pete asked, his eyes back on the book.

“Well, we can’t choose who we love now, can we?” Mikey asked. It was more of a question for himself rather than Pete. He’s had this struggle within himself for a long time. The first boy he’s ever kissed was his best friend in 8th grade and they haven’t talked since. He’s been quiet about their whole fight and why he came back home with a black eye (and broken heart).

Pete stilled at Mikey’s question then resumed to his reading. He turns to the preface, “Do you wanna start here?” Pete asks Mikey in a whisper. He nods and Pete continues, “The artist is the creator of beautiful things. To reveal art and conceal the artist is art's aim. The critic is he who can translate into another manner or a new material his impression of beautiful things.”

Mikey raises his head from Pete’s shoulder, raising his eyebrows, “Hm, wow. That’s kind of deep?” He readjusts himself, “Do you mind if I put my head on your lap?”

Pete smirks, “I mean… What do you plan on doing down there?”

Mikey didn’t get it immediately but lightly smacks Pete on the arm when he does, “Dude! No! I’m not that type of guy.” He exclaimed, his cheeks and nose turning pink. Pete laughs in response, rubbing his arm.

“I don’t believe that, Mikeyway. I’ve heard the rumors about you.” Pete shook his head and set the book down, placing a hand on Mikey’s thigh.

Mikey froze up a bit. What rumors? Why is his hand there? Why is he feeling so lightheaded? The warm knot in his stomach is forming slowly but surely. That can’t be good, right?

“Uhm, wh-what rumors?” Mikey asked. He’s genuinely confused, being behind Gerard’s shadow for most of his life he didn’t know that people cared enough about him to start rumors about him.

“Oh, you know.” he grinned at Mikey, moving closer to him. He put his other hand on Mikey’s other thigh, moving them both up slowly. Mikey’s breath hitched and Pete took this as a ‘yes’.

Mikey shook his head. He didn’t know.

“The ones about how you’re always willing to fuck after a show and your tight jeans no underwear combo,” Pete stops when his face was inches away from Mikey and whispers, “I just wanna know if it’s true.”

He leans in closer, capturing Mikey’s lips into his own. Mikey let out a small gasp in shock before Pete does so. He didn’t know what to do with himself. Yes, Pete and he kissed before but not like this. He couldn’t.

He moved his head away from Pete and pushed him off.

Pete was confused, Mikey never did that before. He looked at him and tried to read his face, but it was confusing him.

“Uh, did I do something wrong?”

Mikey’s heart was pounding so hard and fast, he didn’t really know what to say. He wanted to kiss Pete but he’s so confused. What rumors? Who’s saying those things? Nothing could leave his mouth. It was all different thoughts racing through his brain that day.

He shakes his head and brings Pete’s mouth back to his again.

[euphoricdumpsterfire]

To the Moon and Back (Peter Parker x Stark OC) Chapter 2

Master list

Warnings: Mild Profanity

A/N: Hey guys sorry if I kinda updated late, and for the next few days I’ll be extremely busy being a student poll worker for the elections so Chapter 3 might come out hopefully by next Friday, but do watch out for a link to a playlist that I specifically made for this fanfic! Anyways, have a great day <3

Word Count: 2216

Summary: Nixie meets Peter Parker and makes friends with him. Moonflower goes on a patrol around Queens and finally meets Spiderman in person.

Nixie had stayed up all night researching whatever she could find about Spiderman and the only things that she saw were videos of him on Youtube just swinging around the city and saving lives. There wasn’t anything else particularly interesting about him besides the fact that he can shoot webs, Nixie thought, although she was still curious as to why she’s been seeing visions of this specific hero. 

Nixie stared at her screen intently watching the same video of Spiderman over and over again, analyzing every single detail of the video. Then her door creaked, it was Natasha. “Rise and shine early-” Nixie turned her head to look at Natasha, “And you’re already awake!” She exclaimed as she entered the room.

“Actually, I’ve been up all night.” Nixie answered,

“Well that explains the dark circles…” Natasha replied as she looked at the computer monitor, “Have you been watching Spiderman this whole time?” She asked and Nixie nodded.

“Seems like you already have a thing for him.” A smirk formed on Natasha’s face 

“What? NO!” Nixie retorted, “I was just simply researching… I was  hoping I could find some more info on him, but all I could find are these youtube videos.” She added.

“Well, you’ll find more info if you start getting ready. It’s a long trip from here to Queens.” Natasha said as she walked towards the door and waited for Nixie to get up.

“Ugh, I better be an Avenger by the end of this…” Nixie muttered as she got up and started to get ready for the day.

Once she was all dressed up, she headed straight to the kitchen and prepared her coffee in her travel mug. “Morning Moonie.” Tony would only refer to his daughter Moonie when he’s terribly concerned, “I heard you stayed up all night…” Nixie looked up at her father with a tired stare.

“I did.” She answered,

“Look, when I said I wanted you to find out who Spiderman is, I didn’t mean that you go out of your way and stay up all night looking him up.” He replied,

She wanted to tell him about the visions but something inside of her is telling that it wasn’t the right time, “I know, but... It’s just that... I don’t know. I can’t really think, the lack of sleep is getting to me.” Nixie yawned as she poured a bit of milk into her coffee. 

Tony looked at his daughter with deep concern as her face was pale, making her dark circles even more prominent. “God, you look like you came out of a Tim Burton movie.” Nixie rolled her eyes at her dad’s snarky statement.

***

Meanwhile in an apartment somewhere in Queens, a young Peter Parker had just finished getting ready for school. He tied his shoelaces, grabbed his backpack, and made his way to the door, “Hey hey, wait!” his aunt May scurried to the door and handed him his lunch bag,

“Thanks May.” Peter said with a smile,

“Remember, after band practice, go straight home got it?” May said with one eyebrow raised, Peter nodded and waved goodbye.

He walked to the subway station which was extremely packed. He stood next to a guy whose armpit hair reeked of rotten vinegar which Peter had to endure for the rest of his trip. Once he got to his stop, he breathed heavily before he could start walking to the campus.

The campus was surrounded by huge trees and a few bushes here and there. Peter walked through the courtyard as he listened to music, he kept walking and didn’t even realize that he was about to bump into someone. Once it had already happened, he finally snapped out of reality. He bumped into a girl who was holding a few books and a travel mug, the coffee spilled everywhere and mostly on the tree that she was standing next to.

“Oh no, are you okay?” Peter thought the girl was talking directly to him but his eyes were fixed on the fallen textbooks and did not notice that she was actually talking to the tree.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?” Peter asked as he picked up her books and the girl turned around to look at him.

“Uh... Right, uhm yeah I’m good...” She awkwardly answered,

“It was my bad I wasn’t looking...” Once Peter got up, he finally got a good look at the girl, he tilted his head realizing that he had never seen her before. 

“Well, I didn’t get a stain on my clothes so it’s all fine.” She answered,

“I don’t think I’ve met you before...” Peter said as he handed the girl’s textbooks.

“That’s cuz I’m new,” the girl chuckled, “I’m Nixie.” the name sounded so familiar but Peter could not point his finger at it until after a minute of registering it. His jaw dropped in astonishment. 

“You’re-” Before he could even actually say a full sentence, Nixie nodded.

“Yup. I’m Stark’s kid.” She replied.

“But I thought you went to Knox?” Peter asked,

“Wait, people knew which school I go to?!” Nixie exclaimed,

“Well yeah... You’re dad’s famous, that makes you famous.” Peter replied and just when Nixie was about to open her mouth, the school bell rang. 

“What class do you have?” Peter asked and Nixie showed a piece of paper showing her class schedule. 

“We both have the same classes together, I’ll just walk with you to show you around if that’s fine with you.” Peter said and Nixie smiled,

“Great, thanks!” She replied.

Eventually, they were joined by Peter’s friend Ned who was a bit more outspoken and had expressed his love for computer games. All three of them had the same classes and Nixie was lucky enough to sit next to them in almost all of their classes except for Art, where she sat next to a girl named MJ and Liz.

Because of her world famous father, everyone couldn’t help but look at her and start whispering which made her feel uncomfortable and awkward, but thanks to Peter and Ned she the discomfort and awkwardness faded away as she felt welcomed and appreciated by her two new friends.

When it was lunch time, Peter, Ned, and Nixie sat down and ate their lunch. Nixie couldn’t help but notice that MJ was sitting one table away from them. “Shouldn’t we... Like invite her over here?” Nixie asked the two guys who sat across from her.

“Nah, she always sits there by herself.” Ned answered,

“Yeah but-” 

“I’m just a table away, I can hear you guys loud and clear.” MJ said, she then turned her eyes to Nixie, “And I’m fine sitting here, thanks.” MJ went back to reading her book again.

“See?!” Ned whispered loudly

“So Nixie, how does it feel like being around the Avengers?” Peter asked,

“Well... Steve’s like an old grandpa but you can definitely count on him for some good old timey music, Natasha’s like an aunt to me and she’s extremely cool, then there’s the new people, Wanda and Vision. I haven’t really talked to them but that’s mostly because Vision creeps me out.” Nixie answered,

“Whoa... It must be chaotic when they have missions...” Ned said

“Trust me, it is...” Nixie replied, and then it was time to finally ask the million dollar question, “So, what do you guys know about the spiderman dude?” she noticed that Peter dropped his fork and froze right after the question, but Ned shrugged.

“No one really knows his identity, but I do know he’s pretty cool.” Ned continued, “Why’d you ask?”

“Nothing… I just thought he’s really cool, Moonflower’s better though.” Nixie said as her eyes were fixated on Peter’s reactions to the discussion of Spiderman, he remained frozen, as if he was guilty of something.

“Oh yeah, I’ve seen some of her videos on youtube too. She’s pretty cool.” Peter finally spoke.

“Is she part of the Avengers? I can’t remember…” Ned replied,

“Nah, she’s just roaming around Manhattan, basically like Spiderman.” Nixie answered.

“How’d you know that? Have you seen her before?” Peter raised an eyebrow at Nixie,but she couldn’t answer. Thankfully, she was saved by the bell and they all went to their classes. 

A week has passed and Nixie still doesn’t have information on Spiderman, but she suspects that her friend Peter might know who he is. So one day after school she runs after Peter. “Hey Pete!” Peter was startled by Nixie that he was ready to throw a punch, “Whoa there… If I were you I’d think twice about that.” Nixie said while her hands were raised as if she was ready to block him.

“Sorry, I thought you were a thief…” Peter replied as he scratched the back of his head, embarrassed. 

“It’s all good, I was just wondering if you could help me with my literature assignment. I’ve been struggling with some parts and I could really use that brain of yours.” Nixie asked expecting he would say something like, 

“You know what… I would if I could, but I-I have plans…” Peter stuttered,

“Oh, so where you off to?” Nixie asked,

“Just some part-time job at a… Deli! Yeah, I just got a part-time job at a dei.” Nixie immediately knew that Peter was lying but she went along with it.

“Oh that’s totally fine, I’ll probably just ask MJ. I’ll see you around!” Nixie waved goodbye, 

“Yeah, see ya!” Peter waved back. Once Nixie turned and left, he let out a sigh of relief immediately ran to the subway station to finally start his evening patrol.

***

“Are you sure about this?” Happy looked at Nixie wearing her usual suit who planned to go around Queens as Moonflower in hopes of finding Spiderman and hoping that whoever she’s suspecting is indeed the masked hero. 

“How else am I gonna get information on him? And besides, it’s good publicity!” Nixie teased and Happy rolled his eyes.

“Fine, and if you don’t come back to the car by 10 pm, I WILL LEAVE.” Happy emphasized the last three words and Nixie just nodded as she put on her mask. 

“Alright, see ya later.” Nixie winked and stretched her arms out, thick vines grew on the brick wall that she was facing and climbed onto it to get to the top. She walked around hoping to get a sight of Spiderman but there was nothing. She moved from building to building, until she saw a woman who stood closely next to a man with a ski mask. The man had a gun pointing at the woman’s head waiting for her to open up her bag, and all of a sudden, a string of web sprouted out of nowhere leaving the man unarmed. It was Nixie’s chance, she immediately used her vine and slid down to the bottom of the building and hid in the shadows. 

“Who’s there?” The man yelled as he pulled out a back-up knife and pointed it towards the woman’s neck. “Give me back my gun or she dies!” The man yelled. Then, the person that Nixie’s been waiting for stepped out, Spiderman shot out another web taking the knife from the man and threw a punch at him. The man laid unconscious on the ground and Spiderman stood in front of him with his hands on his hips.

“Not so scary now are ya?” Spiderman scoffed. It was Nixie’s first time hearing his voice and it sounded really familiar to her, but figuring out who he was wasn’t the priority right now as she saw a group of men whom she assumed was with the other guy were cracking up their knuckles and were ready to ambush Spiderman who was completely clueless.

It was finally her moment, Nixie touched the ground and vines with sharp thorns started growing out and wrapped around the legs of the men, one was close enough to throw a punch but before they could even do it, Nixie yelled, “YO SPIDERMAN WATCH OUT!” Spiderman immediately swerved making the other man fall to the ground. It wasn’t long until the other men got rid of the vines so Nixie threw small grenades that would release a pungent odor similar to the corpse flower once thrown at the target and would immediately make them lose consciousness. It released green smoke and once the scent hit their noses, the men dropped to the ground like dead flies. 

Spiderman was already busy making sure the woman went home safely as Nixie tied all of them together with her vine rope. “So… Moonflower eh?” She turned around to see Spiderman.

“Glad we could finally meet, Spiderman.” She replied.

“I must say, those stink bombs are pretty impressive.” Spiderman said as he crossed his arms against his chest.

“I know right?! They’re pretty sick!”,  “The cops are on their way to pick these losers up.” She had a huge smile that seemed familiar to Spiderman. “But I must say Peter, those web shooters are far more impressive than my stink bombs.” She added.

“Well, I mean they did take much work but I don’t think…” Spiderman paused and looked at Moonflower who had a smirk on her face. “Did you just call me…”

“That’s right, Peter Parker.”