#tiles are very bad when it comes to how hot public spaces get

[lunellum]

Just had a neighbour come up to us to tell us to deal with the wild grass growing by our back gate because "people have been complaining about the mess" and

Dear neighbour, we know "people" means you. You're the neighbourhood busybody. It's you.

[erodasfishtacos]

Not Your Charity Case

prompt: Harry is a frat boy - who doesn’t need sympathy from anyone. He makes Y/N feel a sense of home when they’re together. But is Harry just like every stereotypical frat boy?

word count: 6.2k 

warnings: minor violence, language, deaf!harry, smutttt

other: when Harry is talking to Y/N or any other characters - it is to be noted that he is signing. When Y/N talks to Harry - she is also always signing

Let me know if you’d want to see anything else from this verse:)

+++

You were rushed - you really shouldn’t stop at the local coffee shop for a sugary, delicious mocha chip frappuccino.

Despite what people say, professors are much more lax and carefree in college.

It was about two weeks into the new semester, - your third here- and the seasons were changing - becoming autumn.

Chilled breezes, falling leaves, and vivid colors of nature made you happy.

When you arrive in line, there are two people ahead of you. A girl currently in front of the cashier and a tall male with a red and black flannel on behind her- typing away on his phone.

When she moves to the left, the broad man steps forward. His snapback facing backwards, brown curls dancing around his neck. You can’t help but notice how tall and lean he is, shoulders broad and straight.

You definitely haven’t seen him before on campus. You’d remember.

From what you can see, he shows the young girl behind the counter the screen of his phone without saying anything at all.

The raven-haired girl’s face pinches in annoyance. “We don’t accept orders like that. You need to tell me what you want.”

You’re a little surprised by both the rude cashier but also the man who doesn’t respond right away.

He attempts to show her his phone again but she shakes her head - annoyed.

You become interested in the situation when I watch him sign, a few gestures before pointing to his ears. In the most obvious form of saying “I can’t hear.”

The clueless girl gives him a blank look, “Listen, there’s a line. I don’t have time for this.”

You hoped you weren’t overstepping your boundaries when you slide up next to him, tapping him on his shoulder to get his attention.

It is a bit startling how gorgeous the boy is. He was tanned with bright green-eyes and a defined jawline that was currently clenched in frustration.

You sign, “What are you trying to order?”

He studies you for a second with hesitance before his long slim fingers begin to move, slowly as if he thinks you may be inexperienced in the form of language.

He replies, “Large coffee with a little cream and two sugars.”

You squeeze in front of him, “It is not only rude but illegal to not serve based on disabilities. Refusing an order from a deaf person isn’t moral or acceptable.”

The girl has enough decency to mumble an apology and turned bright pink, “Sorry, he doesn’t look deaf. “You roll your eyes - how can you tell that someone is deaf based on solely appearance? This girls a fucking idiot, you think.

You repeat his order to her, along with yours - sliding your debit card towards her and give her your name for the order.

The man trails behind you to the small waiting area. “Thank you,” he signs simply. You nod and return the pleasantry. The. hand him his steaming hot coffee.

“Thank you again. I’m going to be late to class, so I have to go,” he tells me, seeming a little out of place signing with a stranger.

“Go ahead, I’ll see you around.” It was the first time in a long time you’ve signed to anyone outside your family.

+++

Sipping your drink as you are only five minutes late and the class hasn’t even started yet. The man you just helped was sat in the back of the classroom, unloading his laptop.

With a little bravery, you wriggle your way through and plop into the wooden chair easily. Letting your backpack fall to the ground. Curly looks over at you with a frown, he signs, “Why are you sitting next to me?”

You blush, “I don’t know? Thought it’d be good to have someone to talk to.”

His hands are tense as he replies, “I’m not a charity case, so you can leave me alone.”

“Never said you were,” you huff when you tell him. Not appreciating how rude he was being. Signing had its own tones and expressions so to speak. For example, when someone is happy their signs and movements are different than when they’re sad or frustrated.

Harry seems to be the latter. You wrestle out your laptop to the PowerPoint that was going to be discussed today in class. You noticed Harry stared very intently at the professor to read his lips and expression.

You was surprised he didn’t have an interpreter with him but you’re sure he got special accommodations elsewhere. Even though that was absolutely none of your business.

His shoulders are tensed and he makes sure your arms don’t brush like you have cooties for the entire two hours. The nameless boy is up and out of his seat as soon as the professor shuts off the projector and turns on the lights - signaling class to be over.

Well fuck him then.

***

You don’t make the mistake to sit next him again. But that doesn’t mean you could ogle his strong muscular back and big hands.

It wasn’t your place to care but you felt twinges in your tummy when you noticed him struggling to keep up with the fast-speed class on certain days.

You were in the large, rustic library that smelled of old books and damp wallpaper. It was dead silent as people furiously studied or worked on papers due.

As you paced the shelves, you could not find the book you needed for your American Literature class. Fuck the Dewey Decimal System.

Part-time uni students probably just stuffed returned books in any open space they saw fit. But you need this book in particular, a discussion board post due by midnight and it was currently eight-thirty. They had ran out of copies at the on-campus bookstore.

After a valiant effort, you trudge up to the checkout counter. A little sign reads, “ring me if no ones here!”

You impatiently ring the silver bell. But no one comes. You give whoever is working a minute or two but nothing. Another ring it is.

Silence. No one. Of fucking course, luck is not on your side tonight.

You dramatically clunk your head onto the high counter top in front of you - groaning at the fact you may fail the assignment.

A tentative pat on your shoulder makes you snap your head up. To see the boy you’ve been constantly avoiding standing behind the checkout desk.

“Are you okay?” He asks. He had a name-tag on - Harry. He honestly looked a bit out of place. Harry appeared to be a frat boy. He was still had a boyish air about him but an intensity that was unmatchable.

He didn’t look like he would work in the library. He looked like...well he looked like he would be a beer pong referee or something.

You couldn’t see below his torso but he had a plain black snapback on and a vintage Elton John concert tee. A cross necklace dangling over the worn shirt.

You smile, embarrassed, but reply, “Just being dramatic. I can’t find a book and I was waiting here.”

There’s mirth in his eyes when he points to the bell,”Did you ring the bell?”

Your brows furrow, “I did.”

“Well I can’t hear it, I’m deaf,” he deadpans with a straight face and a dry sense of humor.

You roll your eyes, laughing nervously, “I didn’t know you were working!”

“What do you need?”

He helps you locate the book in two minutes flat before checking you out and you rushing home to finish the homework.

You felt bad ignoring your little sister’s FaceTime calls but you promised to call her back tomorrow. 

***

Though once again, you hadn’t interacted with Harry since last week - you constantly found yourself studying his stoic profile or fast moving fingers.

You would never befriend Harry because you feel bad for him - like he presumed. You enjoyed American Sign Language and it actually made you feel back at home.

You’re little sister was born completely deaf. She was much younger than you - eight years old. Fifteen years apart to be exact. You learned the language along with her and your parents.

When you were at home and your sister was there - you guys tried to only sign so she didn’t feel left out. So Harry felt like home - a little despite his completely off-putting demeanor. It made you a little bit more persistent than with any other frat boy.

***

The bulletin board in your advisor’s office caught your eyes. None of the little tabs ripped off in interest.

‘Student with ASL experience and above a 3.5 GPA needed for tutoring sessions - twice weekly. $16 dollars an hour.’

After your meeting, you tugged the little scrap of paper off and tuck it into your pocket. You couldn’t know for sure if it was Harry but you didn’t know of any other deaf students in the program.

You say ‘fuck it’ and type out an email to the advisor of academic affairs and accommodations to throw your hat in the ring.

***

You don’t hear back for three days - nearly forgetting about it in the mean time. Your eyes scan quickly over the email to grant you the position. They include contact information for no other than Harry Styles.

After psyching yourself out a little and a few paces across your kitchen tiles - you text him.

Hey! I’m your new assigned tutor. Would you like to set up a time and place? As well as what kind of help you’re looking for.

The reply text comes shortly after

Hello, thank you very much. I am just in need of hearing ears. I am deaf and have a hard time keeping up with the my professor. I have begun recording the lectures in hope that you can sign then to me.

Sure thing. That won’t be a problem!

I live in Alpha Sigma on 3rd street. I have my own room. I’d rather not have the tutoring session in public. However, if that makes you uncomfortable - we can figure something out.

You take a minute to debate. You understand why this would be a task too loud for the library and why he’d want privacy. You didn’t feel like I’d be uncomfortable with him.

I saw twice a week so does Tuesday and Thursday at seven work?

Sounds great. Thank you again x

Did he know it was me? Was he expecting it to me?

***

He was definitely not expecting you. You automatically knew that by the way his friendly smile dissipated into a frown when he opened the door for you.

You attempted to look nice today without trying too hard. A loose crop top with the university’s name, a pair of tight black leggings, bulky white socks bunched at your ankles, and white sneakers. Very 80’s.

You try to keep your composure, “Hi Harry, I’m going to be your tutor.”

He slowly nods at you, huffing out a breathe of irritation before inviting you into the frat house.

You’d only been here once or twice for a party so you had no idea what the house actually looked like when there weren’t bodies and booze everywhere.

He’s walking you past a group of boys playing FIFA on the flatscreen in the living room, white claws open everywhere.

“Y/N! Hey babe!” You look over to see Niall - one of your good friends from your part-time job at the bookstore - trotting over to you guys.

The blonde pulls you into an overexcited hug. He reminded you of a cuddly, soft puppy dog most of the time.

“Are you Harry’s little tutor?” Niall coos, leaning over to pinch Harry’s cheek. 

Harry- who was observing the conversation, focusing in on our lips, immediately bats his friend away. A small scowl forming on his face.

It automatically turns into a playful brawl where Niall tugs Harry into headlock. But he has no strength on the brunette.

Harry turns out of it quickly and pushes Niall to the ground. He straddles his stomach and begins to jokingly pinch and slap at him.

Niall hisses, “Ouch! You motherfucker! Big oaf!”

Then you don’t know why you find this endearing but Niall signs the word, “uncle” a few times to signal he’s accepted his lost.

The fact that they wrestle so much that Niall learned to sign how to give up made you giggle more than it should.

Harry crawls off of him, running a hand through his messy curls, his face a little flushed.

“I’ll talk to you later!” You tell Niall as your trailing behind Harry up a flight of stairs.

His room is extremely neat. A fluffy navy comfort decorated his bed with a few photos of flowers and nature on his wall. A tidy desk tucked away in the corner that had all of his school work loaded on top of it.

He chooses to sit in his desk chair, motioning for you to perch on his bed. You look at him expectantly when he pulls out the tape recorder and sets it on the surface.

He pulls his laptop into his lap and begins signing, “I need you to transcribe the lecture for me so I can follow it. We can skip through the bits where he is rambling or off topic.”

You nod, letting him know to begin whenever he’s ready. He presses the side button and the recording starts but it super unclear and garbled.

“Did you record this from your seat?” You ask, the professors words nearly inaudible and fuzzy.

“Yes.”

“You need to bring it to the front of the room. Ask Dr. Morrison  to lay it on his desk before class. I can’t hear anything but static and mumbles,” You tell him.

He laughs and shakes his head. His movements rough and angry, “Of course its fucked up. I get you as my tutor and then the recorder is shit.”

You glare at him, offended as you haven’t done anything to this boy. “Excuse me? I’ve literally been trying to help since I’ve meet you. What is your fucking issue?”

“I’m not a charity case! I don’t need you to feel bad for me. I’m not helpless! You’re probably just a silly little girl who took ASL in high school because it was cool and trendy. Go back to focusing on psych.”

“Fuck you, Harry,” Your gestures getting sharper and your face sour, “You know nothing about me so don’t act like you do. I don’t feel bad for you or think that you’re helpless.” You put up a hand and tell him to not talk.

“I was just being nice because I thought you were handsome and at first, seemed friendly. It turns out you’re just like every douchebag frat boy I’ve met. What a disappointment,” You chuckle, swinging your bag on your shoulder and storm out of the room without another look.

***

The cafe was jammed packed - it was Waffle Wednesday. You had said waffles in your tray and were about to plop down on a stool when you hear your name being called.

“C’mere, come sit with us!” He hollers over the commotion of the crowd. Niall.

You’re about to decline when some dude slips behind you and snags the stool. Shit.

A bit unwillingly you slide into the booth next to Niall, cracking open your sparkling water. “Mates, this is Y/N, we work at the store together and she’s Harry’s tutor,” he tells them. “Y/N, this is Liam and Louis.”

“Hello,” you try your best to come off as friendly even though you can feel Harry’s glare on the side of your face. You ended up falling to easy conversation with the boys. Niall has a very limited ASL vocabulary but tries.

The boys are also trying to talk slower and more pronounced so Harry can watch and understand. A couple of times he taps Niall on the wrist to repeat what was going on.

Your phone begins buzzing and you apologize for the interruption. It’s your little sister, Mazie, FaceTiming.

You answer the phone with a frown, signing “Aren’t you suppose to be in school?”

Mazie looks upset, eyes a little watery. She gestures back, “I left early. I’m sick.”

“Are you really sick or where you getting bullied again?” You asks her.

Your sister hesitates before sniffling, “You already know. I hate my school.” 

Mazie has had other children bully her for her disability since she started preschool and it as still happening in fourth grade.

“What can I do to help?” You frown, never wanting to see your baby sister cry.

You chat for a few minutes to help her calm down. When the phone call ends, you don’t realize that all the boys were watching you in interest. Harry in particular, keeps his focus on you with a wrinkled forehead.

“My sister’s deaf,” You tell them. The whole time you’ve been sitting with them you’ve been signing and verbally speaking to help everyone be able to be included in the conversation.

“That’s sick!” Louis says, smacking Harry’s arm. “Just like our lad Harry.” 

Harry grumbles when Louis shakes him a little. It seems like the boys loved to physically interact with Harry which was endearing.

Harry allows him to for a moment before he flicks his cheek hard and laughs when Louis flinches. The conversation goes back to normal.

***

Harry jogs up to you after your group shares farewells and a few punches. You pointedly ignore him as you trek to the class you two have together so it’s not like he can’t walk this way too.

“Please, wait,” Harry asks. He walks in front of you.

“What do you want?” You huff, keeping my glare firm and directed alley at him.

“I’m sorry. I made the wrong assumption.”

“You made a lot of wrong assumptions. The fact that you think of me so lowly is sad. I’ve been nothing but nice,” You try not to focus on his large palms that curve over the caps of your shoulders.

“I’m not very trusting of people.”

You snort rather unattractively, “No kidding”

“Can we please start over?” He asks, stepping back to give you space. He didn’t realize how close he’d been standing to you until your hair wisps across his nose.

“One more chance, Styles.”

Harry lays a hand on your upper arm and squeeze lightly before signing the simple gesture of ‘thank you.’

***

It turns out Harry is very handsy and physically affectionate. It wasn’t creepy though or something that ever made you feel uncomfortable.

You were still tutoring him but you hung around the frat with Harry nearly everyday. The days you just wanted to lay in bed resulted in a grumpy FaceTime from Harry.

Harry once stated during a tutoring session, “It is easier for me to show how I’m feeling with touch than words. If I ever make you uncomfortable - please tell me and I will stop.”

You smile slyly at his words that sounded more like a question, asking if he can touch you. “I guess I’ll let you feel me up every now in again.”

He giggles and looks down wolfishly - like an entertaining thought is dancing around in his mind.

You tuck your finger under his chin to gaze at you. “In all seriousness, I give you my consent to show your feelings with physical touch. I trust you and know you won’t do anything to make me uncomfortable.”

The curly-haired brunette smiles happily, his hand cupping the side of your neck and brushing over your pulse point.

He hadn’t touched you here before and it seems like it was his first goal to do so once he got permission. You can’t help but take in a deep gasp of air. You prayed he didn’t notice but by the small lift of his lips he did.

The simple touch made a flame of arousal swirl in your lower stomach. You felt like you were about to start sweating.

“Anyways,” You clear your throat and snatch back up the recorder. It now had better quality after Harry listened to you about placement.

***

The frat house was ridiculously full of drunk college students. Everybody on the dance floor was sweaty and sticky with a variety of different substances.

Niall had invited you - so you were searching about for him. Pushing through the crowd and nobody was able to hear you say ‘excuse me.’

You finally found fresh air in the backyard where beer pong and cornhole were set up. Niall was tossing his ball across the table, trying to splash in Liam’s red solo cups.

Harry was sitting on a cushioned patio chair, watching the game commence. Maybe he was a beer pong referee after all. 

He looked so fucking good tonight. He had a yellow snapback taming his curls - backwards of course. A black Rage Against the Machine shirt and his signature black skinny jeans. **

You made eye contact and were about to wave when a girl plopped down in the seat across from him.

Awkwardly you turn away, greeting the other boys and taking a seat in a lawn chair to watch them start their third round of the game.

Your eyes keep darting over to Harry who is staring blankly at the girl. She starts stroking his biceps and tracing across the tattoos like they belong to her.

Harry is attempting to let her know he’s not interested. His signs uselessly as she’s staring at his lips and not hands.

You’re moving before you know it, without another thought, you squeeze in between the two - separating them. You dramatically slide into his lap, funnily enough one strong arm wrapping happily around your middle.

The pretty blonde pouts out her lips, “Is he your boyfriend?”

Before you’re able to reply, Harry signs the obvious signal for ‘yes’ to the girl. Then rudely makes the shooing gesture. She’s up with a huff and stomping back towards the house.

Harry turns you sideways on his lap so that you two can see each other’s hands, “You saved me.”

“You’re just such a stud, have to protect you,” You joke - but not really.

He raising his eyebrows and smiles, “You were jealous.” It was a statement not a question.

You blush wildly, avoiding eye contact which you know he hates. He hates anytime you cut off ways of communication.

Harry taps your lips until you look up at him, “it’s really fucking sexy when you are.” A perk of sign language. He could dirty talk just about anywhere and mostly no one would ever know.

His thumb drags on your full bottom lip, signing clumsily with one hand so you had to use context clues to piece it together “Don’t think I forgot when you called me handsome a few months ago.”

“I don’t remember, doesn’t sound like me,” You boldly lie, snickering and nipping at the top of his thumb

His eyes become a shade darker when your teeth meet his skin. He presses his thumb further in until it’s in-between your teeth. The moment is broken when Niall screams, “Styles! You’re up next!”

**

You and Harry become separated after you spent nearly two hours watching all these drunk boys play beer pong. Harry was ridiculously good at the game and only had to drink two cups from the table.

You had wandered back into the house where the party had died down. There were only a handful of stragglers left but mostly just the fraternity brothers and their close friends.

With a fresh alcoholic seltzer in your hand - you didn’t trust open bottles at parties like this - you gaze at Harry through the back window.

Harry was being jumped by Liam and Niall. He was snarling playfully as Liam toppled them all over into the grass. Niall tries to stand up but Harry’s hand wraps around his ankle and makes him fall right back on his bum with a girlish squeal.

Niall leans over to give Harry a wet-willy but Liam manages to throw a plastic cup directly at Niall’s forehead. Harry and the other boys dissolve in childish giggles. Faces red from laughter and liquor. You feel a smile painted fondly on your lips from watching them.

“Hey, Y/N right?” A voice interrupts from behind.

You spin to face a guy you barely recognize from a previous class you shared. You smile nonetheless, “Hi...”

“Jake, Jake from Social Constructs and Society last semester.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” You smile and allow him to talk your ear off because you struggle to say ‘no.’ He was fine, nothing special, typical business major who thought he was hot shit because his daddy owned a golf course he wanted to take you to.

It was a normal conversation until his voice gets lower as if he’s trying to be more seductive, “Want to head to a room with me?” He nods towards the staircase.

You chuckle in disbelief at his bold and forward question. “No thank you, I’m good.” You really had eyes for one person right now and he was currently cussing out Niall in sign language in the backyard before tackling him once again to the ground.

“C’mon, I can really show you a good time,” He persuades persistently, stepping into your space - causing your nervousness to spike.

“I said - no thank you,”You bite out, starting to feel scared when he blocks your way out of the kitchen and presses himself against you and the counter.

“You’re really something gorgeous, you know?” He asks, ignoring my struggles to get away from him.

“Stop touching me!” You scream, hoping Niall or one of the boys would hear your wail. He puts a hand up to your mouth to muffle you but that only results in you biting him.

“Fucking bitch!” He cries out, pulling his hand back and winding up to either punch or slap you right in the face. You prepare for the impact.

Then in a blink off an eye, it becomes a blur, a muscular figure is crashing into Jake with full force and knocking him straight into the linoleum floor with a loud crash.

It’s Harry. Broad shoulders and thick but lean tattooed biceps. He’s standing over the harasser and drops on top of him. It shouldn’t look as graceful and tactful as it does.

You’d never seen anything like this from Harry before. Once you really got to know him - he was a gentle giant who liked romantic comedies, soft blankets, and vanilla cupcakes with rainbow sprinkles.

Harry’s fist is repeatedly connecting with the dark-haired boy’s jaw with full force. The only noise is from Jake as Harry is dead silent but his eyes zeroed in on the target.

When blood begins gushing from the man’s nose - Niall and Liam decide it times to physically pull Harry up. Harry had a slight red mark on his jaw when Jake had managed one punch before being defeated quickly.

Harry signs to Niall, “Tell him.”

Niall places his foot on the dude’s chest to keep him down, “My mate wants to let you know if you touch her again we’re not going to pull him off and he’ll gladly beat you to a fucking pulp.”

Jake groans, clutching his nose to stop the bleeding, “Fuckin’ asshole.” 

You were still blown away as you watch Harry’s heaving chest as he glares down at the boy. His fist clenched and knuckle bloody and swollen. Harry’s attention turns towards you. His furious expression melts into worry. You can read his face so clearly. He’s afraid he’s scared you off.

It was hard to believe you had this drop dead gorgeous frat boy defending you past midnight on a Friday night. A boy who didn’t need to hear but just to see you needed help to step in.

All your desires and lusts after the man in front of you burst like a rubber-band and the urge to have him felt uncontrollable. “Take me upstairs,” you demand quickly, arousal creeping up your spine.

He doesn’t understand you’re extremely turned on. Instead he looks like a kicked dog who’s about to get in trouble again.

Nevertheless, he takes your hand and maneuvers out of the kitchen and up the stairs until his bedroom door is closed.

Harry lips are turned down unhappily as he begins, “I’m sorry, love. I...” he pauses a moment before continuing. “I just wanted to make sure you were safe. I hope you don’t think less of me.”

You look him dead in the eye and sign, “Kiss me.”

He blinks slowly at you like he just hallucinate the gestures.

So you repeat your motions, slow and with intent, “Kiss me, touch me, do something.” No more time is wasted as he is stepping in front of you and cupping your face in his hands.

Without any hesitation now, he pressing a bruising kiss to your lips - taking your bottom one between his and sucking.

Your hands are immediately tugging at the hem of his vintage shirt, pulling apart to bring it over his head. Dark ink decorates his torso, for some reason something you weren’t expecting. A butterfly on his abdomen, two fern branches, tattoos on his side.

Harry chuckles, “This is new to me.”

Your eyes go wide and you sign, “You’re a virgin?”

Harry snorts and rolls his eyes before telling you, “God no. I mean I’ve never been able to really communicate during sex.”

Then before You can speak, he cuts in a bit frantically, “I’ve always gotten consent - not like that. I mean-“ You cut him off with a kiss - knowing he would never do anything you didn’t want.

You wanted everything from him.

“If you’d believe it, I like a bit of dirty talk when I fuck - but no one understands what I’m saying,” He tries to crack a joke but for some reason seems insecure and nervous.

“Hey,” You take his chin so he shyly meets your eye, “I can’t wait to hear it - you’ve already made me so wet.” His eyes light up like a kid on Christmas.

“You’re such a good girl,” he signs before tugging off your shirt and instantly finding your lips again. His hands are skillful as they unclasp your bra without any struggle and tosses it.

You tugs a bit as his hair to show your enjoyment as his tongue finds your nipple - lapping before taking it between his teeth. As good as it feels, you want him to feel even better.

You push him back until he’s sitting in the edge of the bed, legs spread and hands behind him on either side holding him up. Jaw clenched with arousal and restraint.

He’s pressed against the zipper of his jeans. And all you wanted to do was see him in all of his glory. You’re quick to undo the button and determined to get the finicky zipper down as well.

His fingers come beneath your chin until you’re looking at his sparkling eyes, a look of lust made his lids a little droopier and his mouth slack from heavy-breathing.

“Are you sure you want to? You don’t have to - I want to eat your pussy either way, pet,” He signs, leaning in for a slow, wet kiss.

You sign back with a pout, “Shut the fuck up.” He huffs out a laugh, letting go of your chin and wrapping a hand in your hair to keep it out of your face.

As soon as he’s helping you wriggle his briefs and jeans down his narrow hips, you’re met with the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen.

When you make eye contact with Harry, he raises a eyebrow and grins cockily, “Is it nice enough for your liking, love?”

You nod breathlessly - wasting no more time before ducking down to take him to your mouth, a slight burning in your throat from how big he is.

His hands keep ahold of your hair, thumbs pressed against your temples as you bob down his length with sloppy, warm licks.

Harry’s moaning as you pop off to kiss and suck at the underside of him, hands coming to cup and roll his balls. It is a few moments later when he taps your cheek to get your attention, one hand leaving his hair to sign that he’s close.

Your mouth speeds up, wanting to give him all the pleasure you could. Your hand coming to stroke at what couldn’t fit in your mouth, pumping quickly.

Before you know it, Harry’s rutting his hips upwards and coming with a long, deep moan from the rumbles of his chest. He’s pulling you up into his lap, pressing appreciative kisses to your cheeks and jawline.

Big hands palming at your breasts before slipping down into your leggings, brushing softly over your mound. 

You whine and hitch forward to grind against his palm as soon as he cups you. He smiles widely at your desperation, pressing the heel of his palm harder against you to create more pressure.

You were already so wet and turned on that it wasn’t going to take much. The ball of your climax was burning low in your tummy. However, you wanted him to taste you like he said he would.

You sign, “I’m close. Please, I want your mouth on me.”

With that, he’s flipping you until you’re laid out on the bed. His hands tugging off your leggings and underwear with no further ado. “Holy shit,” He gestures, gazing all over your body and not stopping on one spot for too long.

“What?” You ask, fishing for the compliments you know he’s about to shower you in.

“You’ve got such a pretty pussy,” he signs, dimples popping in his cheeks and a curious finger traces your entrance before dipping in.

You lightly kick at his stomach, “Get on me.” He pouts, crooking his finger against your spot before pulling it out. Fucking tease.

Then his face is disappearing between your spread thighs and a strong lick is delivered from your clit all the way down to your bum.

Since he can’t hear you, you grabs handfuls off his hair. Tugging at the roots, scratching your nails into his scalp to let him know how good he is. So fucking good.

When you accidentally buck your hips hard against his mouth, you curse and run a apologetic hand through the locks. He doesn’t look up at you but lift a hand and signs, “Again.”

You absolutely whine, begging to ride him with determination - climax on the brink. He hums causing vibrations on the sensitive nerves. With that, your hips are meeting his tongue and you’re coming. His face dampening with your release - happy as a clam when he pops back up.

You can’t remember the sign for condom, so you sign, “Protection?” Harry understands right away, rustling through the drawer until he finds a stray packets, “It’s been awhile.”

“Same,” You gestures - watching as he slides it down his length and crawls overtop of you. He was pink and swollen - having to be a bit sensitive from just coming a little while ago.

“Ready, love?” He asks, pressing soft kisses to your jawline. You nod, reaching down to guide him in.

And you weren’t lying, it had been a while and he was big. The stretch wasn’t uncomfortable, just a lot. But his wet, open-mouth kisses made you stay grounded.

Harry’s moans were absolutely obscene as he slide all the way in before stopping to give you a moment. His arms strong, holding himself over you. The cold metal of his necklaces brushing against your tight nipples.

When you have him the okay, he begin giving you deep, hard strokes on each thrust. His noises so loud they had to be able to hear them downstairs. They were deep and low - rumbling in his chest with pleasure.

Then his hand is coming to your throat. For a wild moment you thought he was going to choke you but instead he rest it lightly, palm flat.

It takes you a moment - then it hits you.

Holy fuck. He is feeling the vibrations of your moans - erupting from your vocal cords. Feeling out the movement from your throat so he can feel how much you’re enjoying it.

You should be embarrassed but you can’t find it in you when you come again right on the spot. His fingertips nudging into the skin to feel the intensity as it wracks through you.

When you’re done riding out your orgasm, he reaches for the headboard behind you with his other hand, gripping it tightly as he begins to pound in with all his strength.

The bedframe is hitting the wall so loud that the whole house must be able to hear it. Hitting with every directed thrust until his mouth is dropping down into a long, timbred moan and he’s coming.

---

Later, when the two are you have settled for the night in the warmth of his bed. Harry seems a little nervous, once again. It takes him a moment to meet your eyes and brushes a strand of hair off your forehead.

“What is it?” You ask, tucked into his side. His body so solid and comforting.

“It’s corny,” Harry frowns, eyebrows furrowing as his eyes flash across your face.

“Tell me,” You insist, bringing his hand to your lips to kiss his fingertips.

“I feel like you were made for me. Like...we were meant to be together,” Harry signs, hesitant to share his thoughts. But it doesn’t scare you away. You can’t help but agree.

“I think so too,” You reply before pressing another kiss to his puffy pink lips.

[angry-geese]

Risotto Nero x Reader

Warnings: nsfw / mdni. shameless smut, shower sex, oral (fem and masc receiving), fingering, handjobs, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie, biting. lots of fluff. afab reader. fem pronouns, risotto calls the reader a good girl like once

a/n: a soft, self indulgent smut fic with Risotto

Word Count: 2k

The job went well. It's not often you can say such a thing. It's a rare, but welcome day when nothing goes wrong. Risotto suggested going out to dinner to celebrate. Food sounded nice, but you were far too tired to get ready for a nice restaurant. You settled on takeout.

He insisted on heading straight home. Any paperwork you can get done tomorrow. The hideout isn't going to burn down if left alone for one night. Well, not as long as someone responsible is around. Prosciutto is probably there. If not him, then Sorbet and Gelato are.

Over the past few years, the small apartment is what you two have called home. Rent was cheap, not to mention there weren't many neighbors. While Risotto may have been fine with sleeping at the hideout, you weren't.

You can hardly pull Risotto away from work. This was a rare, but welcome occasion.

The hot water feels nice as it pours over your sore muscles, turning varying shades of red as it rolls off your body, staining the bottom of the tub. It's not yours. Most of it anyway. Baths don't get blood out. Not a lot does. Showers are a bit better, but you’ve gotten used to tossing out a lot of clothes because of the stains.

"Hey Ris," you call out, "you comin' in or not?"

Momentarily the curtain pulls aside. Cold air rushes in, goosebumps raise along your exposed skin. He tosses aside the last of his clothes, joining you.

You give him a once-over for any injuries. Some blood is dried to his hands, though he looks mostly uninjured. He's too tall for the both of you to fit in the tub at the same time, so taking a bath together is out of the question. When you buy a home together—someday—you'll get a tub big enough.

"C'mere." You say. "I feel bad making you stand in the cold."

You take his much larger hands in yours, inspecting them for any wounds. He watches as your eyes scan up and down his body. Aside from a few scrapes, he's unharmed.

He practically has to kneel so you can wash his hair. A few, pleased sounding grunts leave him as you work the shampoo into his scalp. It smells like you, he notes. Your nails are getting a bit long, and feel nice against his skin. His shoulders tense as your hands work lower, working the knots out of his shoulders.

"Lean back so I'm not waterboarding you," you say, carding your fingers through his hair.

He has to duck to fit under the shower head. The one at the hideout isn't nearly as short, but there’s no shower curtain, not to mention Illuso who has little regard for personal space, and a penchant for appearing out of mirrors. Maybe the next hit will give you two enough money to look for a house. He could really use a bigger bathroom. And a bigger bed. There’s nothing wrong with the one you have now, but he wants one where he can sprawl out a bit more.

Though his back is to you, he feels your eyes drift down his body. You look at him in a way nobody has before. It both terrifies, and comforts him. Most eyes fill with fear when they gaze upon him. Yours never did. Even as you first showed up to the hideout, wide-eyed and frightened, telling him you had just been assigned to the hitman team, you never saw him as anything but good.

Each passing job, each day that goes by, he finds himself falling more hopelessly in love.

Your touch drifts across his back, working the soap over his skin. You’re shameless in how you admire the planes of muscle, and his well-toned arms. In public you’re rather reserved, it's only behind closed doors that you let your affections show. Risotto values the peace of solace, and most of all privacy. The two of you become entirely different people when no longer confined to a certain appearance. Very few things fluster him the way you do. He stiffens as your hands work particularly low, your fingers ghosting across the sensitive skin of his thighs.

Your intentions seem innocent enough until your hand wraps around his half-hardened cock.

A noise resembling that of surprise leaves him, followed by a weak: "the food-"

"We've got twenty minutes." You say. "It'll be fine."

His pupils shrink down to pinpricks. You have to stand on the tips of your toes to give him a kiss. Just a quick peck. He pulls you back to deepen the kiss, nibbling on your bottom lip until you allow the slick muscle of his tongue to explore your mouth. A strand of saliva connects your lips when you pull away.

He watches you with wide eyes as you give his cock a few pumps, sinking to your knees. The tiles of the shower can't be comfortable, but they don't seem to bother you. You lick a stripe up the underside of his cock from base to tip. The kitten licks you place against the head only serves to make him stiffen, and let out a few pleased grunts. It becomes a game, trying to get him to unravel entirely.

He’s too big to bottom out in your mouth. The man is quite literally huge, it's only fitting his cock would match. The hairs towards the base are the same silver as his head, and neatly trimmed. You hollow out your cheeks, pumping what you can't fit in your mouth with your hands. A mix of saliva and precum drips down your chin.

“Fuck-” He’s cut off mid-sentence by his own moan. “You feel so good. You’re so beautiful.”

Risotto can't tear his eyes away from the way the suds cling to your form, how the water collects and drips off every curve of your body, how your breasts jiggle with each movement of your head. It's rare he’s so shameless with his affections. Even behind closed doors he was rather reserved. Love such as the way you love is foreign to him. You’re never shy in the way you love him. It's not that he doesn't like it—it's quite the opposite—but in a way he’s terrified.

“There- tesoro,” His hands bury in your hair, tugging gently. “Like that. You take me so well.”

You pick up the pace a bit, pumping his cock faster. One of your hands slips between your legs, toying with your already-wet cunt. He pulls you off, an audible pop echoes through the bathroom as your lips release his cock.

Shower sex is a bit hazardous. He's too worried about you slipping. Still, he falls to his knees, his large hands ghosting down your sides. He leaves a trail of wet, open mouth kisses down your stomach, licking a stripe from your bellybutton to your mound. His tongue briefly dips between your folds.

He presses kitten licks to your clit, his touch achingly gentle. You angle your hips to give him better access. He latches onto the bundle of nerves, lapping and sucking desperately, rolling his tongue over the small bud. Your fingers bury in his wet hair, guiding him to where you need him most. The wet, lewd noises of his tongue can barely be heard over the shower and your own moans. Risotto’s name spills past your lips like a prayer. His ring and middle finger press into you. They pump in and out of you slowly at first, hooking and stroking against your g-spot.

His gaze drifts up your body, admiring every dip and curve. He takes you in like a man starved and given his first meal in weeks. You grind down against his face as you near your release. Steam coils off his back in ribbons, floating off and dissipating in the humid bathroom air.

Risotto pulls away, a wet smack echoing through the bathroom. There's a dark, needy look in his eyes, which are already hazy with lust. His cheeks are flushed; either with need, or from the hot air.

“Keep looking at me like that,” he says, running his tongue over his bottom lip, “and you won't be able to walk right for a week, tesoro.”

You let out a squeak as he hauls you into his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist. Your arms loop around his shoulders, your fingers lacing together behind his back. He mutters a weak "I've got you" into the crook of your neck.

The head of his cock is slick with precum. It presses into you slowly, filling you inch by inch. The stretch stings a bit, though with the prep it hardly hurts at all. He was always terrified of hurting you when you first got together. Sometimes he still is. You constantly have to remind him that you're tough, and you'll survive a little manhandling.

He groans as he bottoms out, muttering a weak "good girl" into your ear. You feel so impossibly full. His fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs so hard you think they'll bruise. Not that you mind. Risotto gives you a moment to adjust to his size, although it's not needed.

“Please,” you say, your voice weak.

A dark laugh leaves him, coming from low in his chest. “Please what?”

“Fuck me,”

The heat that pools low in your stomach is undeniable. Risotto’s touch leaves you with an aching need you’ve never been able to replicate. Many nights when he was away on a job you would try to recreate his skilled touch. Always to no avail. Your hands never compare to the real thing.

Being so at his mercy is intoxicating. There's an odd, weightless feeling as he fucks into you. His hips meet yours in unrelenting thrusts. The sound of skin slapping on skin echoes through the bathroom, just barely drowned out by your collective moans, and the rushing of the shower. The angle allows him to hit deep, his cock curving in a way that makes your toes curl. His teeth sink into the junction where your neck meets your shoulders, leaving a faint, crescent-shaped indent. Tension builds in your stomach like a coil being wound tight.

You fit around him like a glove, your warm, wet cunt clenching around him in a way that threatens to make him cum on the spot. Nothing feels quite as good as the way you do. Before he never had much of a sex drive. It was something he had gone most of his adult life without. But upon meeting you, finally feeling your touch, he can never seem to get enough.

His own release creeps up on him far sooner than he expected, though you don't look to be far behind him. You're flushed from your forehead to your chest, blush dusting the tips of your nose and ears. Your moans—mixed with various curses and praises—echo through the room. His thrusts grow sloppy as he nears his own orgasm, his hips rocking against you in short, needy thrusts.

What sends him over the edge is the way your nails dig into his back, raking up the hard planes of muscle. Hot ropes of his cum spill into your unprotected womb.

His hand moves down to toy with your clit, working circles around the bundle of nerves. Your skin feels feverishly warm against his. He thrusts until the coil in your stomach snaps and you cry out, your legs tightening around his waist. You ride out your orgasm on his cock, his thrusts slowing.

He pulls out slowly so as to not make too much of a mess. Your arms remain around his shoulders to steady yourself. Shamelessly he leans back to admire his work. The sight of his cum dripping down your thighs is enough to make him want a second round. He likes taking his time with you, but he’ll never pass up on a quickie.

Risotto looks at you with such adoration that it makes your chest swell with affection. The kiss he pulls you into is uncharacteristically soft, but driven by need. His hands move to cup your cheeks, brushing your wet hair out of your face. It's another moment before he’s hauling you into his arms, heading for your shared room.

The moment is only disrupted by a knock on the door.

[ikeromantic]

A Very Hot Bath

A (not so) mini-fic for @cinnamon-hoe featuring my favorite gentleman vampire, le Comte de Saint-Germain. For my 400 follower celebration! It turned out longer and smuttier than intended. I’m . . . sorry? Approx 2000 words.

April, le Comte, Spicy and Sweet

If there was one thing le Comte knew, it was how to read a woman’s moods. And his mademoiselle was an easy study. For example, today, she lingered at each shop window and walked slowly, a clear sign that she wasn’t ready to go home despite the dreary rain and chill weather. “Ma cherie,” he said, leaning down to speak so that he didn’t need to raise his voice above the patter of the rain on their umbrella. 

“Mmm?” 

“This weather is certain to get worse. If you want to stay in town a bit longer, perhaps a cafe?” 

She smiled. “A cafe would be nice. Hot tea, something sweet . . .” 

“I knew you’d agree.” He stroked her hand with his thumb. He pretended to consider his next idea, though he’d already decided on it. “After, let’s get a room. There’s a lovely home in this district that once belonged to a friend of mine.”

“Do you think it will be alright to leave everyone on their own for a night? Without you there to keep them in line . . .” She laughed. 

Comte grinned. “Sebas will hold the fort while we enjoy our evening. Besides, it’s been too long since I had you all to myself.” His golden eyes were molten hot when he spoke, testament to the truth of his words.

“I’d like to - to have you all to myself too.” She turned her head to kiss his cheek, but he was too quick for her. He caught her lips in a kiss, pulling her tight against him. She gave a breathy moan, silenced by his mouth, that made him want her more. Perhaps she wasn’t the only one that hadn’t wanted to go home today.

When he finally released her, she was breathless, glassy-eyed, and pink-cheeked. “We’re in public,” she gave a half-hearted protest, belied by the way she leaned closer and licked her lip. 

“That is why I stopped when I did.” He smiled. 

She gave a little pout and turned back to look in the shop window. “Is this where you got my little purse? The beaded one?”

Comte nodded. “It is.”

“Can we go in? I’d love to see what they out for this season. If - if that’s alright. We don’t need to buy anything.” 

His cherie was always so worried about what he spent on her, as if somehow she could dent his wealth. He’b buy the entire shop just to see a smile on her face. “As you like, ma belle.” 

They went in and handed off their coats and umbrella to the doorman. The shop owner recognized le Comte and came out to greet him, stumbling over his courtesies. Comte did his best to put the man at ease while his love wandered the shop, looking first at the ready-mades and samples, and then at the material samples. 

Despite her insistence that they not buy anything, he kept an eye on where she lingered and what she touched. A woman could never have too many purses. After he reassured the shop owner that, of course he would be placing an order - he hurried to her side.

“Did you see these,” she asked, pointing to some delicate red beads. “They are garnets but they look like drops of blood when they catch the light.” She shivered and touched her neck. 

Comte didn’t miss the spot her fingers found. The last little love-nip he’d given her faded there, barely visible even to his keen eyes. “I think they’d look gorgeous paired with your ivory gown.”

She shook her head. “No - it’s just- there are so many beautiful things and I just like to look at them. It makes me happy just to see them.”

“That must be why I can’t take my eyes off you. There is nothing more beautiful anywhere in this world.” He took her hand and ran his fingertip along her wrist, tracing the vein beneath. He could feel the warmth of it there through her skin. 

Her eyes closed for a breath at his touch. “Ah, you can’t say things like that.” She laughed softly. “Besides, I’m not anything special. I’m glad you think so though.”

Comte kissed the tip of her nose. “You are humble too.”

Her tummy growled at exactly that moment, and she blushed crimson from the neck up. “Ah, and hungry? How far is it to that cafe?”

“It’s close. Why don’t you get your coat and the umbrella. I’ll be along in a moment.”

“You aren’t buying me anything, are you?”

“Ma cherie! You wound me.”

Her look told him she wasn’t buying that bland denial.

“I promise that I will not purchase these beads for you. A direct promise - and you know I don’t break my word.” He kissed her hand. “Now hurry along. I need a word with the shop owner.”

She raised an eyebrow but lost the expression when his lips touched the skin on the back of her hand. If there was another thing le Comte knew how to do, it was how to make his belle giddy. And he enjoyed doing it.

After she hurried over to get their things, Comte placed an order for a new purse and matching shoes using the brocade she’d lingered over and some matching blue beading and pearls. It would look gorgeous with the dress he’d commissioned for their country trip. 

Comte was nearly done with the specifications when a shout got his attention. The door to the shop was open, a young gentleman on his way in. But his love was darting out into the rain. He hurried after.

“I’m so sorry, monsieur. When I opened the door, the lady’s umbrella caught a gust of wind. She’s run after it . . .” The gentleman looked perplexed. 

“Yes, she’s quite impulsive,” Comte smiled. It was one of the things he loved about her. She didn’t plan or plot - she rushed headlong into life, full of joy and hope. It made her even more beautiful.

“That poor girl will be soaked to the bone,” the gentleman sighed. “If you know her, can you pass on my apology?”

“Of course,” Comte grabbed his coat and swept past. Outside, the rain was still falling in tiny chill droplets, the kind that made quick work of even heavy wool. They got under it and soaked you through, right down to the soles of your feet. 

He could see her a little way down the street, running after the umbrella as the wind tugged it along. Her hair was already stuck to her scalp and her clothes were dripping. It took him only a moment to catch up. 

“Quick, Comte! Catch it,” she shouted, pointing. 

It was too late though. An updraft between buildings caught the fabric and the umbrella shot up and caught on a roof tile. 

She turned and looked at him with big eyes. “I lost our umbrella.”

“It’s alright, ma cherie. Our lodgings are close.” Comte lifted her up and tugged his overcoat up to cover her head. “How is that? Are you a little drier?”

“Mmm, I don’t know about dry but you are so warm.” She slid cold hands against his chest and snuggled close. 

Comte smiled. “And you are very cold. I should hurry or you’ll get sick. Then I’ll be forced to nurse you back to health.” 

“Promise?”

He laughed. “I don’t know, ma belle. If you are looking forward to it, I should threaten you with something else. I don’t want you to get sick.” 

Ahead, he could see the lights of his friend’s estate - though it was now a waystop for ambassadors and dignitaries, and his friend long dead. He knocked at the door, and when it opened, they were ushered in.

Given their soggy state, the staff wasted no time getting them into a fine room and drawing a hot bath. The maid offered to stay for any needs they might have, but Comte shooed her out. And then he was finally alone with his dearest. 

She was shivering in her wet clothes, bare feet burrowed into plush carpet. Her teeth were chattering, though she tried to hold them still with a clenched jaw. Such a stubborn beauty. 

Comte crossed to her. “Come now, let’s warm up.” He undid the tie on her flange and let the little capelet fall to the floor. Then began on the buttons, his fingers moving swiftly down.

“I c-can d-d-do it m-myself,” she chattered, and reached for the buttons. 

Ever the gentleman, Comte dropped his hands. “As you like, ma cherie.” He gave her a wide smile, one reminiscent of the predator that he was beneath the civilized veneer. “I am eager to see you without.”

She blushed and began to undo the buttons on her own. Her cold-numbed fingers were much too slow for le Comte’s liking but he was a patient man. Most of the time.

Instead of watching her, he saw to his own soggy clothes. His jacket and vest, his scarf. He undid his shirt and draped it on a chair to dry. Then he began to unbuckle his belt but stopped at a breathy gasp from his beauty. Comte looked up to see her wide-eyed and watching him. 

The hungry look in her eyes would have made any predator proud. As if she was considering eating him up. 

“Ma cherie?” 

She blushed and looked down. “S-sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.”

“You misunderstand, ma belle.” He closed the distance between them and lifted her chin to look her in the eye. “I want you to watch. You looked like you were enjoying it.”

She licked her lips and nodded. “Y-yes, but -” 

He stepped back and finished with the buckle. Then with a duelist’s grace, he slipped his trousers off and set them on the chair. All that remained between him and the open air was a thin layer of cotton. Comte crooked a finger. “Ma cherie? Perhaps you could help me with this drawstring?”

“H-help?” She looked down at her slip, the last bit of clothing between her and the hot bath. I - I was about to -”

“I’m terrible with these knots.” Which was, of course, a lie. An egregious one. If she refused, it gave him plenty of space to laugh it off. But she didn’t. She walked forward and reached toward him tentatively. Her hands slid down his chest, caressing his belly and sides. Stopping at the top of his hip. It sent an electric shiver through him and suddenly, he very much wanted the rest of their clothing off. It put too much space between them. Entirely too much.

Her fingers slipped under the top hem, pushing the fabric down. 

The sensation made Comte gasp. “My bold cherie!”

“Mmmm, turns out I’m bad with knots too,” she teased. Her fingertips danced over his low belly, stopping just above the rise of fabric and below his belly button. She slid her other hand over the top of the fabric and he groaned. “I’m not sure I can take these off you . . .”

A true gentleman, Comte reflected, would take the teasing with a sigh. But he was no true gentleman. He reached for the tie and in a heartbeat, that last shred of fabric dropped to the floor. He could feel her cool, silk slip against his belly and before he could consider it, Comte had tugged it off her and tossed it away.

“I thought you were a patient man,” she giggled.

“Not when it comes to you, ma belle.” He pulled her against him, his hot flesh to her cold skin. Even like this, she felt of heaven to him. The closest to the divine he’d ever reached. He wanted to be in her, to devour her, to taste every part of her. 

Comte’s hands cupped her and lifted her up, hip to hip. 

She threw her arms around him, still laughing. “What will you do to me now, you beast?” 

“Nothing you don’t want me to,” he purred. He might have said more, but she nipped the skin at his neck and suckled it. An imitation of the vampire’s kiss. It destroyed what was left of his composure, though he had enough control to carry her to the bath and climb into it. 

Hot water splashed over them as he sat, holding her tight in his lap. She gasped at the sensation, the sudden warmth and wetness. Then she grinned at him wickedly. “Should I be your bath maid, noble sir? I can wash your back. And all your hard to reach places.” One of her hands went under the water, seeking - and finding - his achingly hard shaft. 

Comte inhaled sharply at her touch - and her boldness. “I - I,” he cleared his throat, trying to hold to words and coherency. “I think . . . we shall . . . be much d-dirtier . . . in this b-bath.”

She raised an eyebrow. “A dirty bath? You’ll have to show m-”

Her speech stopped mid-word as he leaned forward and took a nipple in his mouth, scraping it lightly with his teeth before suckling and stroking with his tongue. If she wanted to find out how filthy bathtime could be, he had every intention of teaching her. In detail.

[kamilah-the-bloodqueen]

The Cafe Pt.I (Rewritten Barista)

As promised, I’m working through finishing my unfinished series - and that includes the Barista AU I had written long ago. I decided it was best to rewrite it considering the first part was originally published 200+ days ago. I’m aiming for 3 parts for this “one-shot AU” but we’ll see where it goes. Please be patient with me - my academic course load is extremely heavy and finding time to write is difficult but I will finish everything I said I would. I’m actually pretty proud of this but if it flops I never wrote it :) 

Pairing: Kamilah x MC (Amy)

Word Count: 4505 words I’m shocked (I usually get to about 1600-2000 words) 

Taglist: I’m not tagging anyone until I know people want to be tagged for this because I’m nervous and I hate being annoying!!!! If you want to be tagged for a specific pairing please let me know - I’ll try to keep track and remember to actually tag because I’m a forgetful dumbass!

Amy groggily rolled over in her bed, the amount of sleep she was getting had become oddly suspicious because she would never be able to get up before 7 on her own. She rubbed her face gently, her sheets warm and smooth against her skin. She grabbed her phone from the nightstand, her eyes widening in shock as she read the time on the screen.  

Monday March 30 5:40 am

“Fucking hell I thought I set an alarm!” Amy groaned as she threw the sheets to the side, huffing as she opened the clock app to see, she in fact, did not set an alarm. She sighed, shaking her head as she rushed to the bathroom. 

“Damn it Amy...you need this job…” 

She texted Zig, a mutual friend of Emily Day who introduced them their freshman year of college at Hartfeld before Amy had transferred to Belviore University in New York. Zig graduated and moved to New York and opened a small cafe, only a few years later. 

Zig, I’m going to be late. I missed my alarm this morning. I swear I’ll stay for closing and I won’t be late tomorrow. 

LMAO, Amy if you didn’t set an alarm just say that, I had a feeling this would happen so I told you we opened an hour before we actually do. We don’t open until 7 on Mondays, just Tuesdays-Fridays. 

I am literally going to murder you 0_0. You should prepare to be launched into outer space for this crime. 

Lol I look forward to it - see you at 7. 

Amy turned on the shower, as she grabbed a towel and her shower products from the cabinet, placing them beside the shower door. She discarded her clothes, put her shower playlist on, hopped into the shower and felt a wave of relief that she didn’t blow her first day. After Amy had performed her world tour, she stepped out of the shower with a shiver, the cool air a contrast to her very hot skin. She wrapped herself in the fuzzy towel, briefly glancing at the time, 6:02. She walked out of the bathroom, dropping the towel onto the floor as she opened her closet while she scanned her options for a “casual” outfit that would suffice. She put on her favorite bra and underwear, something about the red lingerie made her feel confident, before she slipped into a pair of dark blue denim skinny jeans. She paired the pants with a black t-shirt as she smiled at herself in the mirror. 

“Not bad Amy, not bad at all.” 

She walked over to her small vanity, one she had built with her father as a teenager over the summer before she left for college. It was one of her most prized possessions, one of the only things she had to remind her of him before he disappeared without a trace. She closed her eyes, recalling the memory fondly before she began to apply a small amount of makeup, just enough to hide her tiredness from the public. She stood from the desk, pleased with her appearance as she made her way to the small apartment kitchen. The empty beer bottles and ps4 controllers cluttered the kitchen as Amy smiled, having remembered celebrating the job with her suitemate Lily. She threw the bottles away and plugged the remotes in for a charge, Lily would thank her for that later. She opened the freezer, making herself two premade waffles as she checked her social media. It might have partially been the exhaustion but those waffles were the best Amy ever had, she wiped her mouth clean and grabbed her bag from the nearby chair. She shot a brief text to Lily, to let her know she hadn’t been kidnapped.

Morning Lily! I went to the cafe for work, just so you don’t end up thinking I got myself kidnapped. Love you, see you tonight! Try not to drink all of the alcohol. 

Amy followed Zig’s text directions through the streets of the city, the bustle of traffic, the mass of pedestrians and the loud construction noises distracting Amy from her path. Amy had never really been in New York’s financial district before, the other civilians' appearances shifting from “Naked Cowboy of Times Square” to “Businessman” only a few streets apart. She glanced at her phone as it instructed her to take a right.

“Oof-” 

Amy jolted at the scalding hot coffee that was hot on her skin, her head turning to meet a woman’s irritated gaze, taking note of the coffee cup that was in her hands. She was dressed like all the other businessmen and women who passed by - her maroon suit now covered in coffee as she huffed in annoyance. Amy met her deep brown eyes that burned right through her, her whole body freezing up as she watched the woman’s lips move. Amy stood in a daze, only coming back to herself when the woman waved her hand in front of her, her face filled with exasperation. 

“I’m so sorry. It’s my first day and I’m kind of lost-”

“Watch where you’re going, this suit is probably worth more than you.” Her voice was silky and satisfying, and oddly soothing given the fact she had probably just stained a $2,000 suit. Amy rushed to open her wallet, holding out a wet 50$ to the woman. The business woman scoffed as she walked away, leaving Amy in a confused state outside of the cafe. 

“Fuck.” Amy sighed, moving to collect her bag as she walked through the cafe door, Zig raised his eyebrows at her as she made her way behind the counter. 

“Well that’s a look.” He jested, Amy turning her head and giving him a death glare as he tossed an apron to her. “Nobody will notice, you can cover it with this. There’s paper towels in the back.” Amy dropped her bag in the break room, gently wiping the coffee away and putting the surprisingly fashionable apron on. When she walked out from the back her jaw dropped as she spotted the woman from earlier standing on the other side of the counter. Their eyes met and the woman’s gaze quickly changed from annoyed to very annoyed at the sight of Amy. 

“Kamilah, you’re back. Wanted to pick up some date-nut pinwheels?” 

“No, I need another black coffee.” She turned back to Zig with a smile, he gave a small nod as Amy began to brew the coffee for her. She placed the lid carefully onto the fresh cup and handed it out to the woman, their fingers brushing for a moment, a blush creeping onto Amy’s cheeks. 

“Thank you.” Her tone was less aggressive than it had been in their first encounter, Amy finally calm enough to take note of the woman’s features. Her brown silky hair that looked like it belonged in a conditioner commercial, her defined jawline and subtle eyeshadow that accentuated her eyes. She watched the way her lips moved as she talked to Zig, Amy feeling her heart jump at the sound of her laugh - light and golden. Amy watched her leave, every step she took she took with such confidence that Amy found herself wanting to follow her out the door. 

“You could be less obvious, you know?” Zig playfully nudged Amy, nearly knocking her over as she shook her head in denial.

“No! I wasn’t!” Amy sighed as she rubbed her temples, Zig’s infectious laugh filling the empty cafe. Amy playfully punched his shoulder as a group of well dressed men stepped through the threshold, Amy moving behind the register to take their orders. The day passed, Amy learning how oddly specific some people like their coffee, and learning all of Zig’s secrets to the perfect iced coffee. Amy looked at the clock as Zig walked to lock the front door - finally closing time. 

“Some of these orders...like ‘I’ll have the grande iced mocha no foam soy hexagon vortex hypotenuse’” Amy waved her hands around as Zig tried to contain a laugh, wiping down the counter as Amy hung her apron up.

“Amy you’re horrible.” Zig made a good attempt at seriousness, their eyes meeting before they continued to laugh which made closing pass by much faster. Zig grabbed the mass of leftover desserts from their respective containers, hovering them over the garbage before Amy stopped him.

“Oh, did you want these?” 

“No, but I can find a better place for them than the trash.” 

“Where? Your stomach?”

“No, the food bank is on the route back to my apartment. We shouldn’t be wasteful, and besides - who wouldn’t love a raspberry crown?” 

“You’ve got a point. I’ll bag these for you then, if you could sweep the floor and put the chairs on the tables that’d be great.” 

When all the cleaning and closing procedures were done Amy headed for the door with her bag in hand, Zig gently tapping her shoulder and holding out an envelope, a key to the cafe and the bag of desserts.

“Okay so I know what’s in here but what is this? A resignation letter?” Amy pouted her bottom lip as Zig rolled his eyes so far back Amy wasn’t sure if they’d come back.

“It’s your share of the tips from today, and the wrapped pastries. Thanks for that suggestion by the way, I can’t believe I didn’t think of that myself.” Zig rubbed the back of his neck as he looked around the pristine cafe, the windows reflecting the moonlight and the tile shimmering as if it were just installed. “Bloody hell, the place looks good...no great. Thank you Amy. Come on let's get outta here, go home - I’ll see you tomorrow at 6. Actually, let me make sure you set 3 different alarms, give me your phone.” Zig held out his hand after he locked the front door, Amy reluctantly handing her iphone over as he set 3 different alarms, all 5 minutes apart. He looked up at her for a moment, smirking before handing her phone back to her and walking off into the city. Amy rolled her eyes, he probably took a selfie on her camera but when she went to check, there was nothing but memes and occasional group photos -what did Zig smirk at then? Amy was too tired to think of it, she made a swift beeline to the food bank, opening the doors and dropping the brown bag of desserts off before making her trip back to the apartment. 

The door opened with a creak, all of the lights turned off as Amy carefully navigated to her room. She switched her lamp on, letting it provide a dim light that didn’t blind Amy because of its intensity. She tossed her bag onto the bed, as she pulled her shirt over her head in one rapid motion. She desperately stripped, throwing her dirty clothes into the laundry basket as she changed into clean lingerie. She slipped into her favorite pair of pajama shorts and pulling her favorite hoodie over her bra - shirts were overrated anyways. Amy crawled onto her bed, crossing her legs while she put her headphones on, pulling up her favorite late-night playlist and letting the slowed music soothe her. She caught a glance at the envelope Zig had given her, she reached over for it and opened it carefully - baffled at the amount of cash laying inside. She slowly laid each bill out, counting the total twice to make sure she hadn’t miscalculated. Working at a cafe in New York’s financial district was definitely going to help her and Lily catch up on their rent and not get evicted. She smiled, tucking away 25% for herself, taking enough for her share of the rent and putting the rest into her locked safe - she’d been saving for a trip to Hawaii since she graduated. She stifled a yawn, closing the safe and tucking herself back into her warm sheets, taking her headphones off and closing her eyes for the night. 

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The alarm woke Amy up with it’s loud and very obnoxious beeping, Amy wanting nothing more than to throw the phone into the thermosphere. She drowsily stood from her bed, gently tucking the sheets neatly back into place as she turned off the following alarms. She sighed, rubbing her head as she changed into a simple outfit and left out the door to the cafe.

Amy arrived at the cafe, unlocked the front door and turned the lights on, relocking the door behind her because she didn’t need anyone startling her. She moved behind the counter, dropping her bag in the lounge and putting an apron on. She checked the coffee filters, gave the blenders a good washing, set out creamer, sugar and other coffee essentials on the counter and filled supplies back up. Zig suddenly walked through the door, a smile on his face as Amy finished supplying the countertop and putting the pastries out on display, letting Zig prepare himself for opening. 

“You’re early. I’m shocked. College Amy is having a stroke right now.” Amy knocked him in the side, Zig falling back a few steps as he shook his head and put his hands in the air in surrender. “Alright alright no need for violence, come on, let’s open.” Zig turned the “open” sign on and only a minute later did Kamilah appear in the cafe, her suit perfectly fitted, her hair smoothly cascading around her head and down her shoulders and her face relaxed and composed. 

“Good morning Kamilah, what can I get for you?” Zig gestured to the display of desserts and the variety of coffee combinations on the menu above their heads. Kamilah smiling as Zig waved his hands back and forth, Kamilah letting out a soft chuckle. 

“Just a large black coffee and maybe a date-nut pinwheel.” Kamilah spoke to Zig in almost a tender way, as if they were siblings or long-term friends. Amy selected a pinwheel, gently placing it into a small bag and sliding it over the counter towards Kamilah as she began to brew the coffee. 

“How’s Ahmanet Financial?” Zig leaned over the counter, his defined arms nearly breaking through the sleeves of his white shirt. Kamilah tucked the pinwheel bag into a hidden pocket on the inside of her blazer before she turned back to face Zig.

“It’s very successful, our stocks are soaring and we just secured a new business partner.” Kamilah looked proud and for good reason - Ahmanet financial was one of the most powerful corporations out there. Amy topped her coffee off with a lid and handed it to her, their eyes meeting for a moment before Amy turned away, feeling her cheeks turning hot. Kamilah checked her watch, a movado 47 rose gold watch that cost way more than anything Amy had ever come close to owning. “Zig I’d love to chat some other day but I’m afraid I’ll be late if I don’t leave now.”

She quickly made her way out the door, the bell ringing softly as Kamilah strided away. Amy leaned over the counter with a sigh, Zig nudging her softly. 

“You could be less obvious Amy,” his annoying face smirking at Amy as she rolled her eyes, “you used to be so slick back in college.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Amy threw an empty coffee cup at him as a blonde girl walked into the cafe, her eyes glued to her phone as she recited her order at a rate that nobody could understand. Amy sighed, Zig giving her a pained glance as she went to mix the complicated coffee order. Amy fought back a laugh as Zig found a way to run away to the back when the girl asked for his phone number. Once Amy finished mixing her coffee and sent her out the cafe doors Zig poked his head out of the lounge - his eyes scanning for her.

“Is she gone?” Amy snorted as Zig stepped out from the doorway, his hands running through his hair as he let his shoulders relax. “My god I hate teenagers - they turn eighteen and all of a sudden think they can fuck anyone. I’m like 5 years older than her at least!” 

“Relax buddy, let’s just get through the rest of the day. I’ll handle all the teenage brats and you can handle all the nasty men.” Amy gave him a cheeky grin as they teamwork-ed their way through the rest of the day.

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“Finally.” Amy rested the broom on the wall, taking in the pristine cafe as Zig finished wiping down the counters. “What a day.” 

“Thank god it’s over.” 

“Zig?”

“Yeah?”

“Does Kamilah always come by the cafe right when we open?”

Zig perked his head up, his brows raised to the top of his head as Amy felt a blush creep up her cheeks, her hands growing sweaty as Zig remained silent. 

“She always comes as soon as we open, she has to be at work early since she is the CEO. Although she never rests, despite everything I’ve told her.” Zig’s head shot to his phone as it buzzed, a text from Emily appearing on the screen and Zig hastily typed away.

“Everything okay Zig?” Amy had a worried expression on her face as Zig let out a long sigh. 

“There’s a road trip for Kaitlyn’s band that leaves in two days that lasts for a week that our group is going on and I can’t go because I need to run the cafe-”

“I can handle it for a week.” Amy spoke firmly, Zig’s eyes widening before he let out a chuckle.

“What if you burn it down?”

“I won’t but then I guess you just have to trust me. Come on Zig - you need a break and you damn well know it. Get out of here for a week.”

“I hate that you’re right. Fine, but if the cafe isn’t standing when I get back, you’re toast.” They both laughed and finished up closing. 

Amy walked towards the food bank, a brisk breeze prompting her to make it one speedy trip so she could bask in her heated apartment. A shriek came from the alley as Amy turned her gaze to see where the yell had come from, a red pair of eyes looking right at her in the darkness. She felt her heart beating out of her chest as she forced her feet to a run, her heart pounding like a drum and ringing in her ears as she huffed through the front doors of the bank - placing the bag on the counter and racing back to her apartment without turning back. 

“Hey girl how was-” Lily sat on the couch with a coke in her hand and the television remote in the other, her smile fading as she met Amy’s eyes. “Amy, what’s wrong? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost…”

“I think I’m just hallucinating from exhaustion,” Amy dropped her bag on the floor and took a seat on the couch beside Lily, “anyways tell me about you. We haven’t really had time since we both started working more.”

“Well you should sleep soon but I think we’ll be able to hold the rent for the next few months - with all the money you’re bringing in now in addition to the money my app has started to bring in - I think we’ll be more than fine.” Lily nudged her shoulder, offering Amy a can of coke with a smile as The Vampire Diaries played on the TV. 

“Vampires are so overrated.” Amy groaned as she watched Lily’s eyes become glued to the screen.

“Some of us have taste you know.”

“No, it’s because they’re not real Lily, and the fact that no vampire would ever be attracted to me.” 

Lily rolled her eyes as Amy sipped on her coke, both of them laughing late into the night and being good friends in what had felt like a long time. 

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Amy unlocked the cafe doors and shuffled inside, locking the door behind her and leaving her bag on the counter. She hit the light switch as the lights slowly came flickering on as she tied the apron around the back of her neck. She quickly started and finished the morning set-up, the routine becoming second nature since Amy had always been a fast learner. She checked her phone, 6:49 am April 1, 2020. 

“April fools day.” Amy smiled as she contemplated setting up a whipped cream prank on Zig, but decided not to against her deepest desire to see his shocked face. While thinking of ways to mess with Zig through the day, her mind came to test a theory - she began preparing two black coffees - before adding her own twists to one of them. Amy finished and admired her handiwork - the cups looked identical and Kamilah wouldn’t notice until she tasted it. 

Kamilah walked in, her eyes scanning the cafe for Zig as she took a cautious step towards Amy who had a cute little grin on her face.

“Good morning Kamilah, here’s your coffee.” Amy handed her a black coffee, the one she had adjusted ever so slightly. She watched as Kamilah brought the cup to her lips, almost taking a sip, before she lowered the cup and leaned her face closer to Amy. 

“What did you do to it? It smells different, and where’s Zig?” Kamilah arched a brow as Amy silently wondered how Kamilah could smell the difference.

“I took a twist with it, I made you your regular too in case you hate it...I just thought you should broaden your horizons…and Zig is coming. He just needs to pack, he’ll be gone after today for a week and I’ll be running the cafe.” Amy smiled softly at the woman who was now leaning dangerously close. 

“I see. And if I hate it?”

“Then I’ll pay for both and I’ll never try to broaden your horizons again…” Amy frowned slightly as Kamilah finally sipped on the drink - her brown eyes widening as she took another, and another.

“It’s...actually pretty good...what did you do to it?” Kamilah took another sip as Amy bounced on her heels, a wide childish grin written across her face. 

“I added a bit of cream and sugar and a bit of caramel! It’s how I like mine!” Amy took her hands behind her back and fiddled with them nervously as Kamilah smiled. Zig walked in just as the clock read 8:05 am and Kamilah left, turning at the door to smile at Amy one last time, lifting the cup up with a smile before entering her car. 

“What’s that smile about Amy?” Zig wagged his fingers at Amy with a classic smirk as he prepared for the shift, Amy resting her head on both of her hands while she leaned over the counter - her legs kicking out behind her. 

“Nothing.” Amy sighed and went back to brewing coffee, her hands aimlessly performing while her mind sat on nothing but the thought of Kamilah - and her damned perfect smile. 

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Amy tossed her shoes off as she made her way through the apartment door, one shoe nearly knocking Lily’s head off as she pulled freshly fried chicken from the air fryer. 

“Lily that smells AMAZING!” Amy squealed and made her way over to her, Lily slapping her hand away as she finished the two plates of waffles off with a chicken breast and syrup. “I swear I’ve got the best best friend…” Lily smiled as they both dug into the food, chatting away about their day until Amy let it slip out.

“And there’s this really hot customer-”

“Oh! Spill!” Lily wiggled in her seat like a child, eagerly waiting for Amy to elaborate as Amy stuffed her face with the rest of her waffles. “I’ll wait for you to finish.” Lily smirked and held Amy in an uncomfortable eye contact until Amy finally caved in. 

“She comes in at opening time every single day, and always orders a black coffee. Although I got her to try something new today which I’m really proud of.” The subtle smile that crept up Amy’s face gave it all away to Lily as she let her ramble on, whilst she gave Amy the smirk she hated. “I’m simping aren’t I?”

“There’s nothing wrong with simping. But you have a chance here because Zig won’t be there so you can actually like...take your shot without him ever having to know,” Lily winked and whispered, “and you could totally fuck her in the back-”

“NOPE!” Amy stood up frantically, Lily holding her sides for support and nearly falling out of her chair as Amy rushed to clear her plate. “I hate you! Ohmygoddddddd.” Amy groaned as Lily fell to the floor, her eyes wet with tears at Amy’s reaction more than anything else.

“I’m going to bed!!” 

“Goodnight! Love you Ames!!!”

“Love you too….annoying ass!” 

Amy snorted as she changed into her sleepwear, her body becoming exhausted as she hit the mattress, falling asleep ridiculously fast. 

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Kamilah came through the door, right on time as Amy had come to expect. Amy gazed up from her phone, those dark brown eyes looking right at her as she handed Kamilah her usual black coffee, Kamilah holding it closely before clearing her throat. 

“Can I have the one from yesterday as well?” Amy smiled at her as she began to mix her favorite coffee - Kamilah leaning over the counter to observe. 

“I didn’t think you’d want it again.” Amy said as she added creamer to the mix, the coffee turning golden as she mixed it. 

“A woman can’t appreciate a little variety in her life?” Kamilah leaned against the counter, her hair smoothly gliding over her maroon blazer as she tossed it back - taking a sip from her cup.

“No I just-” Amy topped the cup off with a bit of caramel before enclosing it with the lid, her hands sweaty as she handed it to Kamilah. 

“You just?”

“Thought you’d always like your coffee like your personality.” 

“Whatever do you mean by that?”

The way Kamilah was looking at Amy, she knew she had to choose her next words carefully. 

“Dark, intimidating, a bit bitter at first sip,” Amy hesitated as Kamilah raised a brow, “an...acquired taste.”

“You’re intimidated by me?” 

“Just a little…”

“Hmm, I suppose your coffee is like you if you want to expand your little analogy.” Kamilah glanced at her watch, her expression shifting from playful to work-oriented. Amy felt her heart drop a little as she recomposed herself - back to her refined and disciplined self. Kamilah made her way to the door, the two cups of coffee in her hands as she paused, turning back and looking at Amy - something different about it.

“It’s...sweet and comforting,” her voice was soft as she spoke, Amy’s cheeks turning very red, “like you.” 

[bonny-kookoo]

Soft Spot [K.TH x Reader] 🔞🐾

Pairing: Wolf Hybrid!Kim Taehyung x Bunny Hybrid!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Romance, slight angst, Smut, hybrid Au!

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, soft Dom!Tae, edging, manhandling, size kink, primal themes, praise kink, big dick!Tae, biting, there's a hunting scene but its all just a game, Tae dont wanna eat his bunny, at least not like that, dom/sub elements, a lot of petnames

Taehyung, and Y/n, were the probably weirdest yet most cliche couple around. While most would argue if this is something that could work out, Taehyung keeps his bunny close at all times, never letting her get too far away from him. But sometimes he can't deny that he craves to chase his little prey, having the urge to be a little more rough with his fragile seeming doll of a girlfriend. But catching a bunny is not an easy task, no matter what animal may run in your veins.

  Stretching your arms above your head, your ears moved towards the sound of the birds outside the opened window. Taehyung and you liked the bedroom chilly, as it was more comfortable to slip under the covers and warm each other up while the soft breeze would bring fresh air inside. Both of you loved these moments, moments where it was just the two of you; he once said that he would happily quit his job if it meant he could spend his entire day with you, and you had laughed. The artist and you were a couple seemingly pulled out of a fantasy novel, with all cliches included. You; a short bunny hybrid with your soft features and clingy personality, and he; a tall lanky wolf hybrid, paired with a grim attitude and a love for food. But while this may seem cute in theory, relationships between predator and prey hybrids are still seen as controversial. You still remember the stares and judging looks as well as remarks you both got during your senior year when you first started out as friends; people making fun of you for running into his open mouth as they said, and people judging Taehyung for 'playing with food'. However, you both never parted ways, no, the complete opposite happened. It was at your graduation when you confessed to him, all shy and jumpy, ready to fun off as soon as you finished- but he had you in his arms too fast for you to escape; and ever since then, you both lived together.

While Taehyung made something out of his talent for Art, becoming a painter and airbrush artist to cover up bad streetart with amazing designs for the town and even displaying some of his art at large showcases and conventions, you started to work at a kindergarden, your naturally very motherly and caring nature proving helpful at your job. This time around, you both took two weeks off. You didn't plan anything really, just taking time for yourselves and no one else, and you were happy to know that, even though you did wake up as early as you would normally, you didn't have to leave Taehyung alone today. You took the chance to take a good look at him while he slept soundly under the covers, his face mushed into the pillow underneath, one hand still on your thigh. He always searched for any form of physical contact with you during the night, immediately shifting or even waking up when his fingers couldn't find your skin. His favorite sleeping position was when you either laid on top of him, or when he had his head on your chest so he could hear your heartbeat during the night. Whenever he had to go overseas for a convention or art display he complained to no end over the phone how he couldn't sleep no matter how luxurious the hotel was- so you always sneaked one of your sweaters or shirts into his suitcase for him to find, just to make his nights a bit easier. And even though he told you time and time again how it wasn't as good as the real thing, he still appreciated it greatly.

It was the same for you however. While you were fine at work, you felt very insecure without his presence around. You remembered how you once agreed on going out with some of your work friends, yet ended up with a panic attack in one of the bathrooms while frantically calling him to pick you up, scared of all the people around you. You were a typical prey hybrid- easily scared, a little jumpy, and very shy. That was why you hated to go on educational courses. It was like going back to school with everything involved, yet this time all of you were young adults, and Taehyung wasn't around to help you during the day. The fact that you had to stay at a hotel as well was bad too, making you feel small in the lonely rooms and foreign towns. Again and again Taehyung had tried to convince your superiours to let him go along, but he wasn't allowed to, since they also wanted to see if you were fit for such stressful situations. You really weren't, but until now you at least managed to get through with it.

What Taehyung only told you recently was how often he had night tremors involving you whenever you weren't in your 'safe space' how he called it. The apartment was in a more crowded city, yet due to your love for interiour design and a habit of collecting things, it felt like home to both of you. Taehyung knew you were safe here, shielded from all the bad around you both. So whenever he knew you were alone at a mere hotel he felt uneasy, checking in on you constantly, uncaring on how clingy he may seemed. He'd lost you in a crowd once, and ever since then he had an ingrown fear of loosing you. This was another reason why you simply started to put on a brave face so he wouldn't worry so much. But he knew how much you struggled, feeling it in your bones whenever you returned into his arms.

Slowly untangling yourself from his limbs, you placed your hot water bottle from under your pillow under his hand to trick him just so he could catch up on his sleep a little more. Taehyungs body temperature was generally a bit lower than yours by nature, yet due to his favoritism of colder climate and your sensitivity to it, you preferred to sleep with a hot water bottle under your pillow just so you wouldn't make him feel uncomfortable during the night, even though he would never admit it.

In the kitchen your feet patted over the cold tiles, making you internally hiss a little and tip-toe instead of properly walking. You closed the kitchen door softly, careful not to make too much noise before heating up some water and making yourself tea. You didn't like the bitterness of coffee, no amount of sugar or cream could really fix that for you, so you enjoyed tea while Taehyung would usually have his coffee. Yawning and stretching again, you looked outside the windows to see the sun slowly peaking in, clouds still a deep orange while bringing the soft blue tones of daylight with them. Finishing your cup with two cubes of sugar (heart-shaped, because you insisted), you moved to open the door to your small balcony, shivering at the fresh air, but closed the door behind you anyways, hoping the sun would bring warmth soon.

You heard him way before he opened the door, something that was thanks to your hybrid genes. However, you and him had become so comfortable around each other, that your natural fear of him as a predator was practically nonexistend at this point. That was the reason why, when he came up behind you lazily, you didn't turn around. Simply your ears indicated that you knew of his presence. A blanket was draped over your form before arms snaked around you, his face moving to press a lazy kiss on your neck. "Hm.. why're you up..?" He grumbled, his sleepy morning voice even deeper and raspier than it was during the day. You shrugged simply, not answering him vocally. You watched as the cars sped by slowly, more and more driving along the streets as the day began. Taehyung had rested his head in the crook of your neck, and you wondered if he'd fallen asleep for a second, before he teasingly bit the skin, making you squeak out of instinct. He chuckled, before he placed a kiss on your cheek, telling you he'd prepare breakfast.

"When did you make all this?" Taehyung laughed, while unpacking the bag you brought with you for your small picnic. You both loved the woods close to a nearby park, the large area making both of your inner animals feel at ease. You were alone it seemed, thankfully. You simply shrugged at his question, while he began to spread out the blanket and place the different containers with food on it. You wore a lavender colored dress and a white fluffy jacket Taehyung had bought you to your 20th Birthday once, while he was dressed more casually. The weather was nice, yet the soft breeze was still a little chilly. You both went out ether way, since that small detail didn't bother you.

You both began to eat silently, having smalltalk about what had been going on at both your workplaces while you have been too busy to talk about these days. When you mentioned how one of the mothers was giving you a hard time Tae jokingly told you he'd come and pick you up next time just to intimitade her, but you laughed and told him not to. It didn't matter how sweet his gesture was meant to be, you didn't want him to get a bad repuptation around town, as this could seriously and very fast influence his work. People right now saw him as a gentle, silent man- which he was, of course, but once he would catch the public eye for growling at another person even if it was just for the laugh of it, people, especially the human part, would be uneasy as well. Hybrids were still a minority, a part of society that had to fight harder than others to gain a place within. You knew that all too well, having had several situations in which parents didn't want to leave their kids in your care simply because of what you were born as. It should offend you, make you feel hurt of misjudged, but you always tried to see the reasoning behind things. That was a part of your personality Taehyung admired and though was a little dangerous- it made him feel even more protective of you, since you were so easily influenced and used. The thought alone made him grumpy.

You didn't quite remember what had started it. Maybe it was your teasing tone, how you both had been deprived of intimacy for a good month or so, or maybe it was just because. However, now you were running. Not into your lovely boyfriends arms no no- you were running away. The trees were practically flying by as you forced your aching legs to keep up the speed, even though your lungs had already started to burn. This was no time to stop and exhale for a break, because every step you took meant that he was getting closer, his legs having the advantage of being way longer than yours. You could already feel his very presence somewhere behind you, but you couldn't afford to turn around and look. You knew he was there. Trying to find him would just lead you to your chase's end faster.

This chase was almost laughably unfair in his eyes, since for every step he took you needed at least three to outrun him. This was something he'd dreamt of the last couple of weeks again and again. He moved around with ease, never loosing sight of his target, yet he almost yelped when he saw you stumble and fall onto your knees. He stopped a little further away from you in his tracks, wanting to laugh a bit at you, until he picked up the scent of blood. The moment you had turned to face him, eyes wide like the moon itself staring at him, he knew he was a goner. His grin began to show, almost mockingly, as he moved closer, making you back up pathetically on your hands and knees.

"Oh bunny, look at you." He said lowly, his voice sending familiar shivers down your spine. Maybe you should really start to get scared, maybe this wasn't just a game anymore. Maybe his inner wolf had slowly caught up to him. Once you jumped upwards, dashing away again, he laughed and caught up to you quickly, now desperate to end the chase once and for all. You started to get tired, he noticed, so he grabbed the back of your light jacket and pulled you backwards into his chest with ease where you landed with an 'oof'. He held you like that, savoring the way you panted against his chest, his hand slowly moving your head, exposing the side of your neck for him, leaving you defenseless and completely at his mercy. You shivered, hands clenched to tiny fists, body completely tense, and oh he loved it.

Your bonding mark was still ever so present, his lips placing open mouthed kisses along the scar, until he bit onto it-

Hard.

You squeaked weakly while your already folded ears almost molded against your skull, making him chuckle, feeding his inner wolf with pride. This was the end of the chase. You'd lost.

Throwing you over his shoulder he began to casually carry you back the way you both came, putting you down onto the picnic blanket you brought when you first arrived- and before the playful chase started. Once laid down, he immediately took his place above you, towering over your body before hungrily kissing your lips, making you gasp. You somehow knew where this would lead, and you could physically feel yourself blush- and grow restless.

He moved a bit around until he had one of his legs between yours, making you buck against his thigh involuntarily. He chuckled, his kisses wandering down your throat until he nipped at your collarbone, looking up at you with eyes that seemed way too soft to belong to a vicious predator like him, as he spoke to you with the sound of velvet.

"Let's pack up yeah? I wanna take my catch home to admire."

Admiring wasn't really the right word for what he did. Arriving home, he immediately ditched all the bags, straight up carrying you upstairs to your shared bed, where he let you get up on, starting to shed each others clothes as fast as possible. Taehyung, being faster than you since your arm got stuck in your jacket, laughed a bit at you before helping. The way he kissed you was awfully gentle for such a ruthless predator he was always said to be, his touch featherlight yet ever so present against the judgement of others around you who made up rumors years ago when you were both still at college. Things like how you were a masochist, probably littered in bruises and bites, yet they would never know how wrong that was.

Even though Taehyung was a very dominant person, he was also a very gentle lover. There was not hardcore bondage or anything like that involved. He never called you degrading names, never even so much as told you to get on your knees, always very persistent on asking you if you were okay with pleasing him in that sense. He knew that some people found pleasure in seeing their partners choke, or even cry, but he himself couldn't really handle that with you. In his eyes you were a porcelain doll, fragile and oh so beautiful. You deserved to be worshipped like a goddess in his opinion, and he always made sure that you knew how much he adored you.

"Look at you, pretty doll.." He said, removing your clothes with outmost care while his lips never parted from yours. You squirmed at his touch, wanting more and more, growing impatient with how slow he was being. Yet he only cooed at you, taking his sweet time all he wanted. This was how his dominant side showed- not through straight force, but with his own sense of persuasion, the way he could silently tell you what he wanted you to do, and you would follow oh so willingly. Hell, if he wanted to you'd jump down your balcony just to see his bright boxy smile he hated. He always said it makes him seem awkward. To you it made him seem ethereal.

"Be patient." He growled when your hands found his length through his shorts, swatting your hands away from it with gentle force. You mewled, yet he only chuckled, his own hands moving down on your body to slip underneath your own panties- feeling your wetness, before he decided to get rid of the last piece of clothing you wore. Sighing when he finally slipped one of his long fingers inside, you already knew you wouldn't last long. However, before you could catch your release, he suddenly parted completely, moving around the bed to grab a condom from the bedside drawer. His smile was impish, he knew what he'd just done, and for some reason you already knew this wasn't the last time he'd strip you of your sweet climax. "Oh, are you mad bunny?" He said innocently when you huffed a little, having the audacity to slightly pout at him. He found it adorable how your entire posture changed like a click of his tongue when you spotted him shedding his last item of clothing as well. Your foot was trying to reach his knee but he sat just a little further away from you. He chuckled, suddenly moving to tower over your body, hands finding your wrists before you could feel him enter you. He huffed at the way your tight walls embraced him, while you made a pleased sound even though it stung a little to take all of him.

He loved to have you like this. No concept of time, simply you two, and no one else in this world. Maybe that was his main force behind him dragging this moment of bliss for the both of you as long as he could. He sped up a little, slowly moving faster and faster above you, until he could feel you flutter around him. He suddenly pushed a little more, making you gasp, before he stayed like that, unmoving. Your panting figure started to weakly fight against him with your wrists still bound in his own hands, hips trying to wiggle just to get at least a bit of friction. "Nuh uh Cottontail-" He mused, a teasing undertone yet his voice a bit out of breath. "Lets stay like that for a bit, yes?" He said, and you shook your head, breath coming out in small bursts as you continued wiggling. Suddenly he released you, before pushing your hips down with a bit more force, his voice more serious this time, making you shiver. "I said, lets stay like that for a bit." His thumbs started to circle on your sensitive skin while you looked at him with pleading eyes, hands grabbing the bedsheets underneath in frustration. Yet somehow you both calmed down after a minute, before his hands moved upwards, helping you to sit on his lap, careful to not slip out of you.

He started to move you again, your voice small yet he could hear your oh so pretty moans perfectly with how close your faces were. He groaned as well, his own games getting to him as well, even though he wouldn't admit it. He already dreaded when this would end, trying to stretch it as long as he could. You began to pick up your own pace, yet he could see your energy slowly fading with how you huffed on his lap. "Slow down bunnybaby.." He cooed at you, before halting your movements again, this time sighing as well at the way his own orgasm began to move out of reach as well. You let your forehead fall on his shoulder, and he embraced you tighter, hands running over your back, softly trying to ease your shivering body. "We got all the time of the world my dear." He said softly, before he laid you on your back again, shoving your smaller body a bit higher on the matress so your head could rest on the pillows, before he moved your legs upwards, allowing him to go even deeper for another attempt. By now he was actually getting unsure if he could stop himself for another time. Yet he tried anyway, however delicious the feeling was that he was experiencing. When he pulled out this time, leaving you whining, your eyes started to water, making him comfort you immediately. "Shh baby, it's okay, thats the last one, you're doing so good for me." He praised, making you sniffle at him with a slight smile. "So so good bunnygirl." He said, moving to enter you another time. He held his hand over your skin just underneath your bellybutton, feeling himself moving inside you. "Does my baby love being filled up, hm?" He asked you in such a soft tone you could only nod, exhausted, yet looking forward to him fulfilling his promise. "Ah, you're just so sweet, I can't get enough pretty baby.." He murmured on top of you, suddenly embracing you again once he could feel your legs tremble. "Cum baby, you wanted it, I'm giving it." He said, and you mewled out, huffing at your release, your eyes squeezing shut and your hands frantically searching his to hold, making his own heart swell. He picked up his speed before he pulled out, discarding the condom in the bin thankfully straight beside the bed before he brough himself to his release with one hand, the other still holding yours. Even though he wasn't a fan of messy sex, seeing your skin covered in his release made him feel a certain kind of way. It was somehow as if he was claiming you anew. He groaned when he felt himself get oversensitive, breathing for a bit before slowly getting up and grabbing some tissues to clean you and himself up, before he plopped down on the bed next to you.

You immediately started to tiredly move around, grabbing all the stray blankets, pillows, and even his clothes, making him chuckle. "Let me help you, hm?" He said, getting up and taking the blankets that laid on the sofa as well as the few pillows to your bed, where you already placed everything neatly on one pile, with a dip in the middle. You were always like this after you both had sex- or made love as Taehyung called it. It was in your hybrid genes to nest, and he had early on found out that you had to do it yourself in order to ground your mind back down. The fact that you had accepted his presence within your 'nest' however always made his heart beat faster. You both had marked each other years ago, yet every small prove of you being his mate, and accepting him as yours was cherished by him. He laid down next to you, pulling your body on top of his before you kissed his collarbone lazily, your hands resting on his chest with your legs thrown over his waist.

In this society this wasn't typical, and he remembered in moments like these how terrified he was when you both began dating. He remembered taking your virginity, him being almost more scared of it then you were, or how he would hate the stares you both got whenever you went out somewhere. Now, he couldn't care less about it- knwoing how proudly you always introduced him as your boyfriend made him do the same with you. He didn't care about the weird remarks or sometimes even the laugh's he got.

Because at the end of the day, when he had you in his arms like that, safe and sound, he knew, that eachother was all you both really needed in this world.

Thank you so much for reading, and your patience with me!

[suitofvibraniumarmor]

Headstrong

Part Two

Summary: Their first training session goes well ... but ends on an awkward note.  Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC Word Count: 1840 Warnings: Nudity (in words only, ha). A/N: Taglist is open, you can be added to the one for this fic or Buckvember simply by sending an ask. Happy Reading!

PS: This GIF is not technically applicable to this chapter, but it seemed a good excuse for Seb tummy porn. You’re welcome. 

Series Masterlist

They started the very next day with an early morning run. Bucky hadn’t run in a while, and it was nice to have Haven with him to push him a little further than he thought he could go. 

“You’ve stayed in good shape for being out for a year,” he congratulated before downing half the contents of a water bottle back at the gym behind Haven’s house. 

She nodded. “I didn’t want to lose momentum. I got my pro bid right before the — right before I got hurt. It wasn’t something I was going to pass up or miss out on for too long.”

“I like your determination. Finish off that water, then let’s do some drills.”

Haven nodded and did as she was told. She went for her wraps on the shelf and started to do them herself, but Bucky intervened. 

“Lemme help,” he offered. 

“I’ve got it,” she shrugged. 

Bucky shrugged, too. They were going to need time to get to know each other and be comfortable with each other, he understood that. While she finished wrapping, he tossed off the gloves he had been wearing while they ran, and the hoodie he’d had on, too. A couple of minutes later, Haven approached him next to a large punching bag. She nodded toward his left arm. 

“Quite the prosthetic, coach.”

Bucky cleared his throat and nodded but gave no more acknowledgment to her comment. “All right. You ready?”

She took her stance — a little rusty but muscle memory had her mostly in position. Bucky helped her adjust, apologizing when the cool metal of his prosthetic arm sent her into a small shiver. He got back behind the bag and nodded. 

“We’ll throw combos first,” Bucky informed her. “Pretty basic today, I’ve got to catch up on what you can do, so I know how to coach you.”

Haven nodded her understanding and listened carefully to the combos he called out, executing them with the same intensity she would in a fight. Bucky was impressed. She was in the middleweight class, he knew, but he had no doubts she could hold her own in fights with girls twice her size. 

After combos, they got into the ring. Bucky gave her some footwork warm-ups to do while he wrapped his own hands and pulled on some gloves. Maybe he didn’t need it for his left hand, but with equipment like that, he figured it was better to be safe than sorry. 

After a few hours of training, Bucky could see that she was waning. She didn’t seem the type to speak up when she needed to stop, so Bucky took them through a cool-down, then dismissed her for the day. 

“Good session, Coach. Thanks.”

Bucky nodded. “You did good today, I’m impressed. No reason why we can’t push off from where you are and make your first pro round a championship.”

“You think so?” Her eyes lit up like Bucky had yet to see. 

“Yeah, absolutely.” He hung up his gloves and worked the wraps off of his hands. “I’m going to go grab some lunch, do you wanna join?”

Haven stopped abruptly. “Oh, actually, I — I have plans. Thanks, though. I’m sure you’ve got your own place, but there’s showers back here, if you want to clean up before you head out.”

She rushed for the back to the locker room, leaving Bucky to finishing packing up the equipment that had used to practice that day. He wondered if he had done something wrong to make her … what? Intimidated of him? Dislike him a little? Could be that it had nothing to do with Bucky. 

Maybe it’s the arm, his mind offered. Bucky shook his head, forcing away the negativity. He’d had a prosthetic for a while now, and since getting this latest one, he had grown accustomed to people’s reactions to the strange technology. Hell, even he’d had to get used to the newest arm when the doctors first fitted him with it. Wasn’t a bad thing if Haven needed to get used to it, too, he supposed. She would come around.

Picking up his bag, Bucky fished his phone out and called Steve to see if his friend was available to meet for lunch. 

“Yeah, I’ve got time. Meet you at Wanda’s in an hour?”

“Perfect, see you there.”

Disconnecting the call, he pushed into the locker room and shoved the phone in his bag. About the time he looked up was about the time Haven looked up from drying her legs and shrieked. 

“What the hell?! Get out!” she exclaimed, scrambling to cover the good bits with her towel and retreating behind a tiled wall. “What are you doing in here?!”

Bucky had already slapped his hand over his eyes and was stumbling against the wall, fumbling for the door handle so he could leave. “I’m so sorry, I just — I was on the phone, I didn't think about knocking or anything.”

“There’s a men’s room!” 

“Yeah, wasn’t paying attention,” he called out, finally finding the door handle and liberating himself from an extremely embarrassing situation. 

His shower would just have to wait — not a chance he was staying on the property a second longer than he needed today. 

Bucky dropped into a booth at Wanda’s cafe and asked for a cup of black coffee. The redhead smirked. 

“Rough day in the gym, Buck?” 

“Rough day in the locker room,” he sighed. “Steve’s joining me, better bring a water for him.”

Wanda nodded and went to retrieve the drinks. Having skipped the shower, Bucky arrived early enough before Steve, he was on to a second cup of coffee before his friend arrived. 

“I’ve got exactly fifty-three minutes,” Steve informed when he dropped into the booth. He called out to the counter, “I’ll have the usual, Wan. And a cuppa.”

“Me too,” Bucky added. “Big case?”

Steve nodded, taking a long drink from his water. “Yeah, we’re on a hot lead. I’m waiting for SWAT to get back to me so I know if I can go question my guy.”

Bucky smirked. “Well, don’t let me take too much of your time, Detective.”

“Ha,” Steve snorted, “please take my time. Especially if it involves you out in public. How’d the first session go?”

Bucky licked his lips. “She pushed me during the run, which was good, though. Training today was mostly figuring out where she’s at after being out for a while from any serious training.”

Steve narrowed his eyes. “And what else?”

Bucky looked around to see who was within hearing distance, then leaned forward on the table. “I was on the phone with you, I wasn’t paying attention. Walked in on her naked in the ladies’ locker room.”

Steve choked on the first sip of his coffee. He recovered after a moment, dabbing at the coffee now staining his navy blue tie. “I’m sorry — naked? Your first day coaching and you walked in on her naked?”

“I did,” Bucky confirmed, blowing out a deep breath. “After that, I rushed out. I’ll be lucky I don’t get a call tonight not to come back tomorrow.”

“Oh, Buck,” Steve laughed, apologizing for his reaction, “I’m sorry, I just — naked. Wow. What a way to start out a new job. Was it worth the mistake?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Is that really important?”

“You tell me,” Steve smirked. 

“Yes, it was worth the mistake,” Bucky sighed, leaning back to give Wanda space to deliver their food. “She’s — I mean, she’s fit as it is, she’s a boxer. But yeah, she’s gorgeous.”

“Who’s gorgeous?” Wanda asked. 

Steve motioned to Bucky. “This new girl he’s coaching. Bucky accidentally walked in on her naked after their practice today.”

Wanda put a hand over her mouth, but it didn’t help much to stifle her giggles. “Try not to picture that every time you go back. Have you told Charlotte or Nat about this yet?”

“C’mon, let’s not spread the word,” Bucky groaned. “It was an honest mistake!”

But Wanda’s fingers were already tapping out a message on her phone. Steve was still smirking, even as he shoved bites of salad in his mouth. Bucky had a half-sandwich and a bowl of soup in front of him, but he suddenly felt not too hungry. 

After she dressed, Haven waited at the locker room door to see if she heard any sounds in the gym. 

“I’m coming out now. I have clothes on,” she called. 

As it turned out, Bucky wasn’t in the gym, and his car was gone from the driveway. Haven tossed her dirty clothes in the hamper in the laundry room, then went to start a load before putting together a lunch of leftovers from the night before. 

She ate alone at the kitchen table, contemplating what had happened and trying to figure a way to get around it when they saw each other again. She was still thinking it over when Wes came in from a training session with one of his clients. 

“You’re deep in thought,” her brother noted, drinking milk from the jug in the fridge. 

“You’re an animal,” she returned. “So … something happened with Coach Barnes today. It has the potential to make things real awkward, so I’m trying to decide if I’m going to face it head on or act like it never happened.”

Wes put the milk back but leaned on the open refrigerator door. “Well, tell me what happened, I’ll help you decide what to do about it.”

Haven thought about it. “No, I think this one might be better for me to handle on my own.”

“Just tell me, punk.”

She shook her head. “Nah, it’s too weird.”

Wes let the refrigerator door close before going to the table and pressing his cold hand to the back of his sister’s neck. Haven yelped and tried to wrestle away from him, but even once his hand warmed up, he was tickling her until she begged for mercy. 

“I was showering after practice, in the locker room, and he was — I don’t know how the mistake was made, but he walked into the wrong locker room.” She left it at that, hoping Wes could fill in the blanks. 

“Oh,” he frowned, still putting the pieces together. “Oh. He saw everything, didn’t he?”

Haven sat back down and put her head in her hands. “Yep, pretty sure. About a hundred percent sure it wasn’t on purpose, but … yeah. Awkward. So, so, so awkward.”

Wes did his best to hold back his laughter, but it was mostly to no avail. “Oh, sis. I don’t even — yeah, I don’t think that’s something you can just pass off like it didn’t happen. You’ve got to talk to him about it. After he saw all your goods, I don’t think your strictly-professional approach is going to go far.”

“Was afraid of that,” she sighed. “I’ll call him later on, see if he has time to meet. Might as well deal with it before practice tomorrow.”

Buckvember: @peace-love-hobbitness​ @disastersoldierbucky​ @connie326​ @rebekahdawkins​ @wonder-cole​ @shynara51​

Headstrong: @disastersoldierbucky​ @ashleymalfoy​ @amanda-teaches​ @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​ @tanelle83​ @tellmewhatyouwill​ @capandbuckylvr​ @pinknerdpanda​ @mizzzpink @ntlmundy​ @siggy85​ @itsallyscorner​ @m-blasterrr​

[akfanficlove]

“What if I remember?” - #SeblaineWeek2020

Written for Seblaine Week 2020 – Hurt/ comfort

Sebastian had proposed. A week later, he was in an accident, Blaine not knowing if he’d make it and remembering the day he went back to Dalton, met Sebastian again and – in the end – fell in love. This hurt so much when I was even just writing it but I love how it turned out.

 He remembers. He knows it happened, yet he can barely believe it. Why is he silently sitting in an uncomfortable chair next to beeping machines when he wants to scream at Sebastian to finally wake up? The hand that’s holding his boyfriend’s for dear life is sweaty. No, wait, not his boyfriend’s – his fiancé’s. It can’t be, it’s only been a week since Sebastian went down on one knee during their vacation in Paris.

Paris, where Sebastian had lived as a child and where he spent six months as an intern in college. Paris, where they wanted to go together after graduation, then after getting their first jobs, then after Blaine’s first show closed on Broadway.

Finally, 2 years after Sebastian had returned home to San Francisco, they finally went there and it was everything Blaine had dreamed about. They were strolling down the Seine late at night, eating crêpes and kissing under the Eiffel Tower, just like Sebastian had promised. And then, on their last night, Sebastian had insisted they’d go to this little restaurant in Montmartre that’s a cute café by day and a funky bar by night, even though they were both tired, so why exactly couldn’t they just order room service and go to bed?

Blaine knew why when Sebastian took his hand, his palms sweaty and shaking a little. “Blaine Anderson”, he said, “you are the most ridiculous person and a pain in my ass. But every day I wake up next to you and for a moment I am so in awe that you are still with me.”

His voice trembled a little and Blaine’s eyes started to fill with tears because, no, he couldn’t mean that, this couldn’t be… “You are stubborn and you drive me insane when I know there’s something bothering you but you brush me off like it’s fine. I hate it when you sing in the shower before I had my morning coffee and hate even more how I could never ever hate it when you’re singing because it’s beautiful. You have this smug smile when you know my arguments are better but your puppy eyes will make me give in anyways and we really need to talk about you not using them for evil purposes like having dinner with your strange public school friends you insist you like.”

Blaine gasps half-mockingly, half self-conscious (Sebastian might have a point about him using that method to get his way).

“All of this should have me running for my life as fast as I can, yet, you are in every way said puppy – one look, one smile and I’m done, Anderson. Actually, thinking about leaving you kind of leaves me shaking with fear because I might be able to survive without you but I would hardly call that living, so I’d really rather not.” Sebastian actually blushed and Blaine was about to yell “yes, I do!” before he even heard the question.

However, Sebastian got down on one knee, holding out a small velvet box with a beautiful simple silver ring with a row of very small black diamonds and asked Blaine to marry him right there in a little restaurant in Paris. It sounds cliché and cheesy but Blaine likes cheesy and he likes Paris and he likes the ring and, hell, yes, he wants to marry Sebastian! For a fraction of a second there’s an image in his head of the boy he used to love, the boy he thought he would marry one day and in another lifetime or universe maybe he would, would have proposed with a big romantic gesture and a moving speech, but here and now, he kissed Sebastian as he slid his finger through the ring.

At home, they threw a little get-together a few days later to break the news to their families and closest friends, both of them still basking in actually doing this, taking this next step together. They wanted to officially tell their fellow ex-Warblers, Blaine’s public school friends Sebastian pretends to dislike (although he knows Sebastian has a soft spot for Marley, likes playing video games with Sam and Sebastian’s relationship with Santana, founded on a deep respect for each other’s wit and snarky banter, Blaine will never understand) and a few other friends on a bigger party next saturday.

 Next saturday seems so far away right now. He doesn’t really know what happened, couldn’t listen to what the doctor told him a few hours ago when he stormed into the hospital after a call that began with “Mr. Blaine Anderson? You are the emergency contact for a Mr. Sebastian Smythe. I’m sorry to inform you that there was an accident…”

Everything is a blur now. He went where they told him to go. He moved when the nurses needed some space to change Sebastian’s IV-drip. He laid his head in the crook between Sebastian’s head and his shoulder, held his hand carefully, unable to say anything but “Please don’t leave me…”. He’s been like that for hours.

 It’s getting late and visiting hours are long over, one of the nurses obviously feels sorry for him, that’s the only explanation he has why he’s still allowed to be here. He really must look as awful as he feels. His whole body hurts when he moves to get up, not wanting to go but not wanting to cause any trouble for the lovely nurse who let him sit with Sebastian a little longer. He kisses Sebastian’s forehead. He knows, Sebastian doesn’t like this, feels like a little kid when he does it, and maybe Blaine does it on purpose to make Sebastian finally wake up. He remembers fragments now, that the doctor said something about “potential brain damage” and “we just need to give him a few hours, maybe a day or two” and Sebastian “being lucky”. He really wants to believe her, has a deep respect for doctors after seeing some of his friends like Wes and Jeff suffer through med school. So, he hopes she’s right and reluctantly let’s go off Sebastian’s hand.

 Turns out, going back to their apartment was not a good idea. Everything around him is Sebastian and when he’s finally in bed, the only thing he can think about is What if?

 What if Sebastian doesn’t wake up tomorrow?

What if he wakes up at night, now knowing where he is, what happened and looking for Blaine?

Or what if he wakes up not even knowing who Blaine is? What if what they had is gone now?

 Something in Blaine’s stomach doesn’t feel right and he needs to get it out one way or the other. He runs towards the bathroom and makes it just in time before he throws up his breakfast and some of the shitty coffee he had at the hospital. For the first time since the call, he allows himself to break down into tears. He sits on the cold tiles of their bathroom floor, grabbing his curls when the sob’s ripple through his body.

What if Blaine goes back tomorrow and they tell him, Seb will never wake up?

What if they ask him to decide to turn off the machines or believe in wonders?

Oh dear god, what if he actually dies?

 Usually, when Blaine is upset, he finds comfort in Seb’s arms and a solution for whatever problem in his analyzing way of thinking. Blaine gets up, washes out his mouth to get rid of the sour taste and makes his way back to the bedroom. He falls down on the mattress and curls up into a ball. He reaches for Sebastian’s pillow and hugs it tight, smelling the faint smell of the cologne he knows Blaine likes, and why? Why did it have to be Seb? Why now? Why doesn’t he wake up already?

Silent tears stream down Blaine’s face, memories flooding his brain: Sebastian laughing because Blaine’s very small mom was hugging him so tight when they told her about the engagement. Sebastian in Paris, the Eiffel Tower, the parks, the ring and his smile. Tears he tries to hide every time they watch “Moulin Rouge” or a Disney classic. Date nights in the park for the 4th July, sitting on a blanket watching the fire works explode over the Golden Gate Bridge. Little moments like them holding hands all the way back to the hotel with their National’s trophy. Their first kiss a few days later when Blaine burned his tongue on scalding hot coffee, Sebastian being there to soothe the ache. All the way back, Blaine’s first day back at Dalton, not officially attending classes yet but in his uniform anyway to try how it would feel. He remembers. He remembers Sebastian starstruck-expression and the hand on his back. He remembers the warmth that was partly because he was so excited to be back and partly because something stirred in his belly he didn’t dare name yet, not back then.

It’s that warmth he craves now. That warmth he wishes he could give Sebastian. He falls asleep with tears drying on his lashes, his body on Sebastian’s side of the bed. He sleeps restlessly but when he does, he dreams about that day at Dalton that changed everything.

 It’s 7 a.m. when he slowly wakes up, feeling even more exhausted than when he fell asleep. He just wants to shower and go back to the hospital. Before getting up, he looks at his phone, a little anxious to see a message from the hospital there telling him bad news although it’s a ridiculous thought. They would’ve called if something was wrong, right? Yeah. But they would’ve also called if Seb had woken up, a bitter voice in his head tells him.

After the shower and getting dressed he dials the hospitals number where they tell him visitors were not allowed sooner than 8:30 which leaves Blaine with one more hour to ki– to spend. What he wanted to say is a bad, bad word. A bad, bad word he purposely doesn’t use, afraid he might jinx something. Blaine huffs. Sebastian would so make fun of this, of how Blaine behaves when the doctor’s prognosis was that he would be fine and Blaine wishes more than anything for Sebastian to come home and make fun of him. He’d gladly take a life full of rolling eyes, half-smiles and shaking heads if it meant that Sebastian would just be fine. He loves this man and no God would be cruel enough to take him from him, right?

 Blaine sits down on the couch, completely ready with his shoes on and watches to clock on the wall on the left side of their TV tick. He unlocks his phone and scrolls through his pictures.

There are a lot from Paris, one of them in front of the Louvre – it didn’t stop raining this whole day. One of Sebastian in a small café with a French newspaper and an espresso. One of him kissing Sebastian’s cheek out of a sudden and Sebastian’s eyes wide in surprise from when they finally made it up the hill to Sacré-Cœur and enjoyed the view.

Then there are other pictures. Sebastian with his arms slung over Hunter’s and Beat’s shoulder on the night of their housewarming party for their offices of the advertisement agency the founded together. Sebastian, Kitty and Marley dancing on Sam’s birthday party last year, his boyfr– his fiancé’s tie undone and probably too many buttons of his shirt open to be appropriate. Yet, they seemed like they didn’t have a care in the world. A picture of Sebastian and him hugging in front of a huge poster of Blaine’s face on Blaine’s opening night on Broadway. It’s the look in Seb’s face, so proud, so in love, so excited that has Blaine’s heart breaking a little and makes tears sting in his eyes. His thumb brushes over their faces. “Seb, you can’t leave me now…”, he whispers although no one’s there that could hear him.

How he made it to the hospital, he has no idea. His whole body aches and it’s getting worse the closer he gets to the room door. When Blaine opens it, he actually stops breathing, only to let it out in a deep sigh when he finds Sebastian in exactly the same position as he was yesterday. “He looks so fragile”, Blaine thinks and he wants to do nothing but hold his boy in his arms. Maybe that’s why he dismisses the chair and lays down next to Sebastian, curled into his body, careful not to accidently pull out the IV-drip. How often he had found himself in almost exactly this position when they were cuddling in bed after an orgasm or when Blaine’s had this awful cold last winter. Blaine cups Sebastian’s cheek and stroked lightly. During the 5 days of the cold when he thought he might actually die, Sebastian kept him company in bed when he could, took a few days off of work to take care of him, brought him soup and water and tea and advil. And he sang to him, Blaine remembers, the memory might be a little fuzzy but he remembers his soft voice in his ear grounding him. So Blaine starts singing softly, if only to help Sebastian ground himself:

 “I still love you

I still want you

I still need you

After all.

For better or worse

Sickness and health

Till death do us part

After all.

Please don’t leave me…”

 It must be hours since Blaine has arrived. His voice is starting to get hoarse, his face is wet from tears Blaine couldn’t stop from falling and he feels exhausted. When the song is over, he burries his face in Sebastian’s neck and breathes in before getting up. He needs to go to the bathroom and even though he’s not hungry, he knows he should get something to eat. Before he turns to leave the room he leaves a lingering kiss against Sebastian’s forehead and mumbles “I’ll be right back…”. He walks towards the door.

“You know I hate it when you do that, B.”

Blaine stops in his tracks. He’s afraid to turn back around. What if his brain is playing tricks on him? What if he’s sleep-deprieved and going crazy?

“Makes me feel like a child.”

Blaine turns. Deep green is looking at him. There’s a crocked smile on a beautiful face and Blaine rushes back to the bed and grabs this handsome face. He doesn’t feel the tears of relief but he feels the chains that suffocated him burst in his chest, suddenly it’s easier to breath again. He doesn’t hear himself whisper his name again and again in awe. But he does feel it when Sebastian turns his head a little and winces but kisses his palms.

“Hey…”

Blaine blinks. “Hi… oh my god, Seb, you scared me so much!” He launches himself into his fiancé’s arms with an “I love you” but scrambles to his feet when he hears him groan in pain. “Shit, I’m sorry, Seb, I’m so, so sorry. Wait, let me get a nurse or a doctor, fuck, you must be in so much pain and I– I’m just so glad, you’re awake…” He wipes tears and snot away with the back of his right hand. Sebastian is awake. He’s awake.

Sebastian just smiles at him. “It’s okay, B, I’m okay, I’m fine. I don’t need a doctor, not right now.” He grab’s Blaine’s hand. “Why don’t you lay down again?” He scoots over and Blaine obliges, raveling in the feeling of Seb’s finger’s lacing through his curls. He’s awake.

“Oh, Blaine?” – “Mhm?” – “We have to postpone the party. I am so not giving Hunter the satisfaction of showing up with bruises on this usually perfect mark of beauty…”

Blaine just rolls his eyes and hugs Sebastian tighter even though he hears him hissing in obvious discomfort. Good. That’ll teach Sebastian to never, ever scare Blaine like that again. “I swear to God, Seb, if you ever scare me like that again, I’ll burn your French vintage-writing desk without batting an eye.”

[teamdoubleoh]

00Q - WTNV AU

wordcount: 5205

“Hello listeners. Before I begin today’s program I have been asked by John Peters, you know, the farmer, to inform the public that the imaginary corn harvest will be delayed by two weeks this season, due to unforeseen showers of our ancestors tears and jell-o just outside city limits. You know what that means: No imaginary-corn-juice until September.

Regarding the sky: I should mention that it will be bright green tonight so keep your curtains shut and avoid late night walks.

I repeat: D̵͍̟̭͖̑͆̇͊͘ô̶̞̌͋̒̃ ̶̥̖̅͌̀͘ǹ̵̦̓́͝ỏ̸̲̋ṯ̷̗̽ ̴̱̣͖̪̐ḡ̶͔̫̤o̵͇̿̇̉̌ ̵͙̗͎̈́̈́͗̏o̷̤̳͍͉͐̽̌͊ṵ̸̟͂̍t̸͇̞̠̜̻͝ş̴̤̯̿͊̈́̉i̷̞̝̾̈͋͌̀d̵͈̥͆͆͝͠e̸̖̾.̵̥̳͉̌͜ ̴̧̖̯̪͖̊̊̋͘̚U̷̬̰̙͛́̔̌ṇ̸̣̆̔̑d̷̗̥́̑e̵̛͚͔̘̖̿̌̏̕r̶̬̦̒͆ ̶̯͖̰̦̏̒̎̂̕ņ̸͎̺̻͐͆ô̸̢͉̥̠̳̈́̑̈̓ ̸̞͔̀c̷̙̹̺̝̭̎̈́̇i̴̮̜̜͖̎͘͜r̷̦͙͚̙̹̀̂̐c̶̨̧̤̣̮̆͗̎̋u̷̧̧͇̯͐́͒̆͋m̶̟͈͍͖͐͂s̵̖̦͑̍͂͝ț̵̋͌̕ȃ̵̱͈̽͒͠n̵̗͔̼̫͉͑̈͐͠c̸͕̋̽͌̈́̌e̷͇̥̤̍̐̉͠s̷̝̦̍͌̿̓͝ ̸̢̗͇̫̟̈́̀a̷̱͗͠r̵̡̤͚̙̆͐͝ë̴̮̜̭́̓͗͠͝ ̴̡̜̀̄͜y̷̬͈̮̮͋ơ̶͖̮ư̸̫̮̌̈́ͅ ̶͇̈t̸̤͉̹̜̺͆͋o̵̗͒̐́ ̵̡̜̤̼̼̃͌̄̈́̒l̸̰͎̺̻̾͗͆̉õ̷̖o̷̞̞̝͔̿͑͛͜k̴̳̗̼͕̫̃̕ ̸͓̘͔̦̼͋̈̔͘à̸̫̳͈͔̝̀͐̑t̵̡̛̤͓͎̥̐̏͆̃ ̶̛̫̩̤̠̤̈̿̍t̵̮̘̳̳͔͐̎͘̚ḫ̷̡̧̢̛̝̋͠͝e̸̦͔̲̟̿͂̚̕ ̸̪̜̩̎̐̍͂ş̵̀̓̈́̚͝k̴̤̼͎̠̄͒̀̈́͠y̴̢̫̓̒ ̷̹̫̆̓̽͒͒t̴̨̢̺͗ö̸̮̺́͝ń̴̤̀i̴̢̋͋̈́̚͜͝ĝ̸͕̊h̴̹̩̅͠ͅt̷͙͈̞̞͑͜.̸͙́́͐ .

The sky will regain its normal colour by 9am, just in time to go to bed. Tomorrow night it will temporarily be violet, just as scheduled for the second Saturday of August.

On local news: A stranger came into town tonight. They tell me he stopped by old woman Josie’s house to ask for directions, but she sent him away because he kept staring impolitely at the Angels which are not permanent residents in old woman Josie’s house. In fact they do not exist. And they lie.

To return to our stranger: He was fine.

No one who wears a bespoke suit like him is ever truly lost. It hasn’t got anything to do with the suit, only with the road map that was firmly lodged between his third to fifth rib and a shoulder holster under the suit. Our stranger is also nervous, or so they tell me. He wonders how I know, and he wonders who "they" are and why I am referring to him in this very moment, on the radio.

If I was insensible I would mention more things about him like how he likes Vodka Martinis and has developed a strong dislike of Venice and how he he can’t follow orders or rules or his heart.

Luckily I am not insensible.

Well, strangers are rare in Nightvale. The last time someone came to us from somewhere else I don't even remember. Dear listeners, I know what you're asking: What does he want from us? Why has he come? What is the last digit of π?

As it is my duty as a radio host, I will provide you with answers:

The last digit of π is a real number between 0 and 9.

The Stranger wants nothing from us. He was sent by someone who wants someone else and someone else is here, in our lovely little town.

So, he has come to find someone; maybe we could tell the stranger where he, who he is looking for, is but you know the rules. If you see something, say nothing. The sheriff's secret police has already gotten rid of any potential threat. The rules say so.

Our stranger can’t follow rules. He remembers his mission. He remembers that he has a mission, he even remembers why has one.

Another secret about our stranger: He is a spy. That also is the reason why he has a mission, and the mission is finding the special someone. Our stranger doesn't know the name of his someone but he knows others call him Quartermaster. He doesn't know how to find his someone.

Dear listeners. There is a stranger in Nightvale, who is looking for someone who is a stranger to him, but not us. He is a spy but others call him agent; He fears the waters of Venice, can't follow rules and his name is Bond. James Bond.

Just this evening I was out near the forbidden dog park at the corner of “Earl” and “Summer-set” near the “Ralph’s” when I met him. He still wore the same bespoke suit which was a bit crumpled after the many hours spent behind the wheel of his car.

On unrelated news: The Agent drives a silver DB5 Aston Martin with a pumpkin shaped coffee stain on the drivers seat, or so I’m told.

The Agent, James Bond, sat on a bench outside the dog park because the dog park was closed. The dog park was closed because it was Friday after 5pm and because it it closed every day.

He sat in that particular spot because he was instructed to. He doesn't know by whom exactly, but it says so in his mission file, so he has to sit here on this Friday afternoon and wait. According to his instructions the Quartermaster is supposed to meet him here but there is no Quartermaster, just an Agent alone on a bench.

I felt a little bad for him, and also a little weak on my feet because my left knee had just acted up again, so I sat next to him.

He didn’t say anything.

I said:" How do you like the dog park?"

He pointed towards the sign with the rules for the park and said:" Pretty pointless, If you ask me." I had asked him, so I didn't say anything further and he said:" Excuse me," and was gone.

Not instantly of course, he just walked at a fairly quick pace.

Honestly, I find it quite frankly astounding that the Agent drove all the way out here, only to sit on a bench to talk to someone but when someone showed up, he won’t even discuss dog parks without dogs or the inevitability of passing time.

Well.

Our sponsor today is the East India Company. Have you always wanted your own east India? Now you can have it for the low cost of a lifetime of conquest. West Indias are currently out of stock and not as cool as east Indias anyways. Get your own province today at east-india@nv.com.

I am distressed to announce that, due to unforeseen circumstances, the bowling-alley-arcade-fun complex will be closed until further notice. The Nightvale bowling team will instead train at the waterfront and harbour recreation area, which is also currently closed to the wider public. Sadly this means all bowling pins have to be exchanged for a volleyball net and the bowling balls for a beach volleyball.

Further more there are news from the station.

In the mens bathroom a cat has appeared. It does not seem to want to leave, or at least has made no attempt to, but maybe that has something to do with the local shift in gravity in there. The cat is currently living on the wall opposite the door, where she appears to be able to stick straight to the tiles. Well, you know how local gravitational faults are. But honestly, I don't have the time to call someone to fix it and none of the interns have been here at the station since this morning, so I guess we have a cat now.

In further station news I will now read the outcome of the vote my interns and I took over the course of yesterday’s lunch break. The vote was on wether or not I am to refer to them as "minions" in the future.

Alright, let’s see: Not In favour of the new title of "minion" are: ...Hm. Only me.

In favour of the new title of "minion" are: Minions Number 1, Number 2, Number 3, Number 4, Number 5, Number ... well. I assume you can already see where this is going.

I’ll check in on station management on any new developments in town. So now I present to you... the weather.”

(Mortal Man by Jeremy Loops)

“Welcome back listeners!

Station management wants to remind every one that words aren't silver. words are vibrations. Silence is golden. Thought is magic. From this we can conclude that Paul Watzlawick was wrong.

I am also to inform you that there has been an accident just outside dark owl records. No cars were involved, nor any other vehicles or pedestrians. Just the crashing of two squalls of hot dry desert air that didn't see each other coming.

There were no casualties.

To avoid future incidents remember to honk if you exist.

City council would like to thank the citizens of Nightvale that didn't come to get any documents approved this past week, as it has been very stressful and there were enough people present already. Anyone who wants to drop off any paperwork to get it signed is deeply unwelcome. If you still want to visit city hall today, be reminded that the first and second floor have been temporarily moved to the basement. Be also reminded that the basement is off limits to non-employes.

There are news on the agent. During break I went to visit him on his bench. I suppose it would be unprofessional of me to point out that he is good looking so I won’t. I pointed out some of the hooded figures in the dog park and he quickly shushed me. Apparently he has finally decided to read the rules for the dog park, although he appears to have missed the fine script.

He then kept looking at me strangely and asked how I knew about him being an agent. He said he was just listening to me on the radio talking about it.

I said I didn't know he was an agent, they told me he was an agent. I also know agents, and they are all very similar. None of them like to bring back the equipment in one piece, or follow the rules, or black forest cake.

He seemed very taken aback by that. He asked how I knew any agents at all. It was really rather amusing, but of course I told him. I said I know agents because it's my equipment they break. and my rules they won't follow, although there only is one: Always return the equipment in one piece.

He asked if I worked for the government and wether I was allowed to tell him all this. My break was over so I didn't have time to answer him but he is listening to the radio right now, so: I don’t work for the government, there is no such thing. And why wouldn't I be allowed to tell you this? It’s not like it is a secret like sheriff Sam’s secret police. Strangers are so strange... Anyway.

Minion number 1 Is gesturing wildly at her copy of tonights script from outside the booth. I wonder what she could be trying to tell me.

Well.

Next up is traffic.

Do you know how to swim? Have you ever swam in a lake or river or the ocean? If you have, you know the creeping dawning that below you there is nothing for a few feet. Or miles. So much space between you and the earth. But it does not matter because the water protects you from your inevitable death. Lucky you. If you have put you head under water in the ocean and opened your eyes to see nothing but a vast emptiness you know what it it is like in space. You look around and maybe, if you're lucky you’ll spot a fish or two and can find relief in the knowledge that you are not alone in this strange inner outer space. If you don’t spot a fish or two you will soon feel the sinking fear of realisation that you are still not alone. You won't ever be. But it is so, so silent. There really isn't anything there you can see. You're lucky you can actually see that you're alone otherwise you would be so so afraid in this moment of realisation. If your head was above the surface right now you wouldn't see a thing below you because the suns reflection would hide it. Or maybe there wouldn't be anything to hide. Maybe you really are alone. You are so lucky you are below the surface and can actually see what is there and what isn't. So lucky you don’t need to go back up there, where the air is. You don’t need air. You need to keep watch. You should go swim in the ocean.

And now a public service announcement.

The nightvale scientific community calls for volunteers. Volunteers are required to be born no later than tomorrow morning and are not allowed to be dead yet. If you are already dead please leave a note, ore reapply at an earlier date. The volunteers which fit these requirements are asked to come to the station tomorrow morning at 9pm. We are aware this is well into the “personal free time” following the average nine-to-five job but we ask you to show up anyways. Scientists work best during sleeping hours. The scientific community also reminds you that we have a new experiment running, so if you spot any orbs around town, do no question them. D̵̺̪͗̈ọ̸̖̗͓̘̇̽͐ ̶̹̦̠͔͒ͅn̷̠͊̔̀͋ŏ̶̢̯̓̋̉͜t̴̡̺̹̾̀́̕ ̷͇͔͇̈́q̶̥͈̋́̄ụ̸͔̐̇̄͆ē̶̬̈́͑̂̈s̵̺̑́ț̶̮̻̭̪͌͝ị̶̪͓͐͝ö̵͓́͊̑n̴̗̳̤̑͐ ̵̖̑́t̸̨̡̢̛̝͉̉͝h̶̩̓ẽ̴̹̳̄̾͗ ̶̣͔͎̬̍̎̀̌ő̶̫̈́̀̌̽r̵̜̮̙͎̰͊̉̊̕̚b̵̘͍̖̽͜͜s.̷͖͈̗͉̅̃̓̊̈́

This was a public service announcement.

My friend Eve who currently works under station management wants me to remind everyone with blond hair that doors are for people with no imagination. She also wants me to remind everyone with any other hair colour that doors are for people with no imagination. Bald people are exempt from this rule for obvious reasons.

Next up are horoscopes.

People that are born under Aquarius should remember to text someone. Who?Oh you know.

People who have the same star sign as Moneypenny are reminded that we value them as a friend and that they deserve the world and a muffin.

People born under the same star sign as Minion 3 should know that their cooking skills could still be improved. Not by a lot though. Your cooking is wonderful.

People under the same star sign as Q - oh thats me, what a coincidence - should remember to announce something important to their community, such as the dangers of the world or the fact that big rico's is having a sale right now.

People with the same star sign as the Agent, James Bond, should know that their goals are in closer proximity than they might think and that volunteer work is a way to enrich the community as well as the heart.

Thats it for todays horoscopes.  

In unrelated news a quick personal statement. It’s a cruel world. .

Also: big rico’s pizza is having their monthly midnight snack sale.

That’s it for tonight. Stay tuned for the sound of our new station pet walking up and down the restroom’s tiled wall.”

***

On a bench not too far away sat a stranger. He was an Agent and his name was James Bond. Slowly he turned down the volume of his portable radio and inhaled deeply. Tomorrow he would be at the station at 9am sharp, as a volunteer to nightvale’s scientific community.

If he could find this quartermaster anywhere it would be there, he was sure of it. Then he could get out of this weird little town where the radio host knew everything about him. Though when he looked at it that way, the quartermaster could probably know everything about him too, if he wanted to. Not that James had met the quartermaster, but this was the 21st century. With the right skills anyone could find out anything and everyone could turn out to be someone else. He would have to wait for tomorrow.

XXX

"Hello listeners!

Today I am happy to announce that we will be witness to some Experiment down at Q branch, located in the stations cellars. As I am nightvales only radio show host, I was asked to describe the proceeding of todays displays to our younger listeners.

As it is nearly 9 am the volunteers have already arrived. I am correctly standing amidst them, waiting to get into the stations cellar where the headquarter of the  nightvale scientific community is located. The volunteers who are standing with me here today are Minion 2, Minion 5 and Minion 4 as well as the Agent, James Bond.

Seems like everyone else wants to spend time with their loved ones instead of a cellar, weird.

Anyways. They tell me the agent has come in the hope that the quartermaster will be present today, which is a shame because I know for a fact that he isn't currently in the cellar.

Oh. The Agent, James Bond, has joined me over here by the door. It appears he has heard what I said. He’s saying something, wait let me turn down the back feed first.

He says: “How do you know the Quartermaster is not in there?”  

Well, I have to admit, it would just be plain sad if I didn't. The minions are snickering. James Bond has now turned to Minion 5 to ask them why they think this is funny. 5 replies with “because it is”. Well I can’t say I disagree. Now Bond seems a little agitated. He turns back to me. He's asking if I know the Quartermaster. Of course I do. He is asking what I mean with “Of course”.

Well dear listener, this seems like the perfect time to quote Lao Tse. “He who knows others is wise, he who knows himself is enlightened.”

I feel like this is also the perfect time to tell James that I am Head of Q branch, the nightvale scientific community, which means that I definitely should be wise, or at the very least very, very smart.

He seems to take this information well, which is good, especially when we take into consideration that the agent could probably kill me with his right hand tied behind his back. Or so I'm told.

Now the agent looks exasperated. He asks me who they are. I think I showed you just yesterday, James. Honestly, pay a little attention. May I call you James?

He says I may, If I tell him what my name is.

Ah, good one Agent. I can’t tell you that. Anyways, Minion 4 is signing me that it’s time to start the experiment.

She's right dear listeners! I’m kind of busy holding my broadcasting equipment. Number 2, would you be so kind and take the key out of my left pocket? Ah thanks. Alright Listeners, we’re heading inside.

For those of you who haven't been down in Q branch before, which, to be frank, should be all of you, let me quickly describe it.

Imagine a cellar. The ceiling is held up by brick pillars. Imagine desks and computers and loads of scientific equipment with weird names no-one but a scientist could ever hope pronouncing correctly between the pillars. Also some of the walls are painted in a lovely off-white and navy blue combination.

Minions 2, 4 and 5 as well as James Bond and myself are currently in the quarter of the room which seems the most cluttered and is closest to the door. of course it only seems the most cluttered because it is. That’s because we’re currently in the area designated for engineering, and for some reason we never come around to cleaning up. Mostly because we don't want to.

To our left is the quarter designated for chemistry and, by default, toxicology. Do not ever, under any circumstances consume anything in the close vicinity.

Greetings go out to Minion 9, who is currently in intensive care at nightvale’s public hospital.  

To our right is our testing area. Since a not necessarily small part of the equipment we manufacture is meant to blow up at some point, we have a secluded this area with bags of sand to keep the debris away from the more fragile things down here. Finally, at the opposite end of the room is the designated area for data processing.

Bond is now strolling towards the desk in the middle and is looking at the laptop on top of it. Maybe I should stop him. Well. He has opened the laptop. he seems to be confused. Wait a second listeners, I have to go get my computer back.

Bond is looking at me. He’s asking who the laptop belongs to. Well, I did jut say it belongs to me didn’t I.

He seems disappointed. He’s asking if I could just tell him where the quartermaster is. I mean I could, but why would I? The quartermaster came here to get away from the government.

James is asking me how I know the quartermaster, if I’m working with agents. If the quartermaster doesn't trust the government, why does he trust agents?

Dear listeners, If I remember correctly I told James only yesterday the government wasn't real. It seems he doesn't believe me. Oh well.

He’s still waiting for an answer. He’s staring at me, this is why I avoid human interaction. He has these weird blue eyes. And he only has two eyes too. all of my minions, except Number 3 have more than two eyes, though I don’t know why. Number 3 has two eyes but he's blind. I have two eyes too, but I have access to at least a few dozen at any given time so I don't really count. He's still staring. This is weird. How do I tell someone I don't want to tell them. Ah he's groaning. Right, he can hear me. I am so not used to talking to people face to face.

Anyway. Time to start the experiment!

All volunteers are placed over by the chemistry slash toxicology area. None of them know what the experiment is, which is entirely their fault. minions 2, 4 and 5 were actually hand picked by me because they never listen when I tell them important stuff, like:" If you're listening right now, you can go home early tonight".

Now number 2 and 5 are looking at me grumpily while 4 is signing "ha ha.” Sorry 4, I needed at least three Minions.

Alright listeners, today were testing a new defence system which I have installed in some of our most commonly used artillery.

As I've mentioned before, agents rarely ever bring back the equipment we build for them, which is a shame because most of it are prototypes.

James is frowning at me, like he always brings back his equipment. I happen to know he didn’t return a single thing from his past four missions. Now he’s frowning even more. Hm.

The system we’re testing today is a feature designed to improve the shooting ability of the agent the gun was designated to, and only them.

If you'll remember I mentioned our new palm print encoded hand gun in last weeks fun facts children's science corner, right between a brief explanation on the planets of our solar system and the sociology of blue whales.

While the guns we are testing today aren’t equipped with the encoded palm print, they have been upgraded with the feature that allows the agents to hit more precise. Since only only one of the minions present today is proficient in shooting guns of this category, we will compare the aim of Minion 5 and James with  Minion 2 and Minion 4, who usually work in chemistry and are thus more proficient in hand to hand combat and poetry.

I will now give each volunteer an upgraded Walther P99. They will shoot the target until the clip runs out. Then we will count the missed shots and put the results in the protocol. Remember kids: The difference between screwing around and science is writing stuff down. Then we will repeat the sequence, take a quick break and then repeat the sequence again to erase any errors that might occur in the system. Until the experiment is finished I will be off the air to spare you the noise. Alright Minions and James, you heard me. Go."

***

James aimed, exhaled and pulled the trigger. Perfect hit. He aimed and shot again until there were no bullets left. All perfect hits. He reloaded his handgun, an action he could, evidently, do in his sleep. He raised his gun again and emptied the clip into his human shaped target, which was now missing a good chunk of paper brain and heart.

"Nicely done" someone said behind him. The radio host slash scientist had sneaked up on him, presumably during the gunfire, otherwise Bond would have heard him. Or at least he was pretty sure he would have. James put down the weapon on a nearby desk. "Thanks. It comes with the job"

He meant it. He knew he didn’t actually do much good, though his actions usually had consequences that were better than those that would have occurred if he hadn’t intervened. He was still good at what he did.

The radio host put his head to one side "I imagined it would. Would you mind and stop calling me radio host in your head? It’s really quite irritating."

James chocked on air. "You can read my mind?"

The radio host laugh was quite beautiful and James couldn't stop himself from thinking that, if he hadn't sworn off romance after Vesper, he'd have given the radio host a shot, albeit still not know his name. He then immediately shunned himself, feeling childish for his sudden affection for a man he barely knew.

The radio host had recovered from his outburst. "Although I technically could read you mind, because I work with the secret police, I can’t right now. I don’t need to, to know what you have dubbed me. I’m good at reading people. It’s one of the few useful things I learned from my brothers. But to get back to your original question; you may call me Q. Just please stop with the “radio host”."

James smiled one of his rare smiles and lowered his head in a mock bow. "Alright then Q, pleased to make your acquaintance." Q nodded dignified and answered lightly:" You as well James Bond." "Now that we’re no longer strangers may I ask you some questions Q, or am I being too forward?" Q rolled his eyes:"Of course. You may ask me anything you'd like"

"And would you answer me if I asked?"

Q smiled at him cheekily. "Not necessarily. But you can certainly try."

"Thats more than I expected, so I won't complain."

"How very generous of you."Q answered deadpan.

The corner of James mouth twitched. "May I invite you for a late dinner, then? That’ll give me more time to ask questions you won’t have to answer."

"Fine. I'll find you. Now, get back to shooting, break is over and you still have one more sequence to complete." James only smiled and went to pick up his gun.

***

In the end James decided to go to “big Rico’s pizza”for dinner. He wasn't actually hungry and he didn't know any restaurants in the area anyways. Also this was the one the radio host - Q - had mentioned on the radio. He chose a table close to the door, but not by the window - a habit he didn’t hope to break anytime soon - and ordered a soda.

Ten minuted later the bell above the door rang and Q came in, carrying a suitcase that looked like it came straight out of a movie set in the 1920's.

James expression just have mirrored his thoughts, because as soon as Q sat down he began smiling again. He had a very pretty smile. "The suitcase is actually not that old James. I bought it just a few months back."

"I would have thought they stopped making those after World War 2."

Q’s smile turned mischievous. "Oh absolutely. But you know what they say - Time is relative." "Of course it is" James muttered and took a sip from his large Coca Cola. At this point he was very sure that nothing could startle him anymore.

Q’s expression grew serious. "No, really. There's a black hole just below the market place in the abandoned tunnels, so time there is passing much slower."

James shrugged. Honestly, what had he expected. "So, why do you carry a suitcase around?"

"To keep my stuff in it. Well I say stuff. it's actually just a teleporter to Q-branch, so I carry it around in case I need to go back." Q answered lightly.

"There's a mobile teleport station in your suitcase, which you bought a few months back but also in 1920. "

"Yes. Although when you phrase it like that it does sound rather absurd."Q mused. "But I believe you had a few questions?"

"You have no idea" James answered honestly, still eyeing the suitcase. A few didn’t even remotely cut it. "You know I’m an Agent, you know I’m looking for the Quartermaster and you know the Quartermaster."

Q nodded thrice. "And your question is?"

"How?"

"I told you I had agents didn’t I? I even showed you."

James cocked an eyebrow in question "Your minions?"

"They’re my interns. The hooded figures, you know, from the dog park work as my agents. And some Erikas, when they feel like it."

James frowned.

"You know. The angels which don’t exist?"

"I thought no one is to refer to the angels, or hooded figures for that matter. It said so on the sign. "

"Of course," Q smirked "but it also says in very fine script just underneath that that government officials are exempt from that rule."

"You do work for the government then?"

"Of course not, I told you the government didn't actually exist. I am the government. Although it took me a whole three weeks to eradicate the existing government without anyone noticing" "And you’re the head of the scientific community? and the only radio host in town? It seems you are a busy man Q"

"Busy? Yes. Efficient? Also yes. Why do you think they want me back?"

"Who?"

"MI6 of course. I used to work for them but I'm currently taking a sabbatical. Well, I call it a sabbatical, they call it Missing."

"You know the Quartermaster from your work at 6 then?"

"Hm, I suppose you could say that."  Q leaned forward and folded his hands under his chin "Tell me James. What do you want with the quartermaster?"

"As you've pointed out so cleverly on the radio I dont want anything from him. But I suppose MI6 might want their employee back."

Q leaned back again and began to rock back and forth on his chair’s hind legs. "I guess that’s a valid point. I never did resign properly after all," He mused.

"Q is short for Quartermaster then?"

"Of course. I told you I’d never tell you my name. I dont think anyone still uses it, except for Mummy of course...” he trailed of.

“I have to say, I had my suspicions Q”

“ Shall we go then? We can take some pizza if you'd like."

"I’m not actually hungry. I havn’t been hungry or tired or thirsty since I arrived."

"Ah yes, thats Nightvale for you, " Q said offhandedly. "Alright then. Let’s head to that car of yours. Wonderfull piece of machinery."

"Why, thank you Q"

"Especially the various extra features of course. There are quite a bit. Or so they tell me"

"You won't stop saying that in the near future, are you?" James asked with a smile on his lips.

"Not in a million lifetimes." Q chipped easily. "Now, James. I don’t think I've properly introduced myself. I'm your new Quartermaster."

[likingletsplays]

The Nightmares (6/?)

Chapters: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six (the first chapter started out as a writing prompt)

Anti smiled, making it light up his whole face. He took a few steps toward and rewrapped his arms around Eric’s hips. He rested his head against Eric’s; his lips lightly pressing against his shoulder. “Eric no one has ever caught my eye like you have.”

Eric turned his face so his eyes could meet Anti’s glowing ones, “Because of how week I am? Just like everyone who has ever met me. All anyone wants to do is protect me.”

Anti temporally closed his eyes and took in a deep breath before opening his eyes again, “Eric of course I want to protect you. But that isn’t the only reason I want you. You are a very level headed person who tries to see the good in any situation. You make me feel like I could do anything and people would accept me for me. When I first met you on the shooting range….with Yan and Dark…I’ve never had anyone look at me the way you looked at me. And I couldn’t take my eyes away from you. I wished I had met you first instead of Marvin, Henrik and a very drunk and rude Chase.”

Eric couldn’t help but smile, “But if I would have met you first I would have scared you off. I’m horribly anxious when I’m around someone I’m attracted to. You apologizing gave me an excuse to talk to you.”

“Well I’m glad it went so well then.” Anti chuckled leaning back so their faces were only a few inches apart. “Can I kiss you?”

Eric felt like he may faint. His mind flew momentarily to the first time Anti had been this close to him in the hallway outside Dark’s office. His heart was beating so hard and so loud Eric was sure Anti must be able to hear it as well. “Only if I can kiss you too.” he squeaked back his face hot. Anti slowly leaned forward and pressed his lips against Eric’s. Eric felt as if an explosion had gone off in his head. He wrapped his arms tighter around Anti. He didn’t want any space between them. This is what he wanted.

Anti pulled back, a giddy smile on his lips, “So that is what kissing someone you like feels like.” Eric bit his bottom lip wanting to lean in again for another kiss. Anti looked away towards the sky, frowning slightly. Anti let out a breath and looked back down at Eric, “It’s time to wake up.” Eric nodded somewhat sadly and watched as the world around them slowly fell apart into darkness.

Eric opened his eyes slightly surprised that he was clinging to Anti’s side. He looked up at the man that held him back, feeling completely safe for the first time in a long while. A man cleared his thought making Eric jump slightly. He looked around sheepishly to see Green and Randal standing beside the bed. “Hi” Eric said feeling his face heat up.

“Hey,” Randal said smiling at his friend.

“Can you please lie on your back?” Green asked holding something behind his back.

“You know I know w-what you’re holding correct?” Eric said rolling to his back.

“Yes you may know but I’ve noticed that you are calmer about me taking your blood if you can’t see me holding it when you wake up.” Green replied drily.

“Just get it over w-with.” Eric said wincing as he rolled his face onto his bruised cheek. He felt the cold alcohol swab rubbing the crook of his elbow. He made himself take a few deep breaths as he felt the needle imbed itself into his skin. “Did I get a-a fervor t-this t-time?”

“You had a few small spikes but nothing as bad as before.” Green replied, “The band seemed to help this time.”

“Good,” Eric said turning back to look at them as the needle was pulled out.

“So no prosthetics for 24 hours Eric to allow your body to recover without putting too much strain on it.” Green said pocketing the four vials of blood he had taken.

“Hey t-that w-was less t-than last t-time.” Eric said happily sitting up slowly.

“You want to take a bath?” Randal asked, placing his hand lightly on Eric’s shoulder.

Eric looked down at himself and saw the ash from the grass smeared down the front of him, “Yeah do you mind getting my chair?”

“You got it chief.” Randal said turning and walking out of Anti’s room closely followed by Green.

“How are you feeling?” Anti asked leaning closer to Eric and brushing his hair away from his face.

“Slightly dizzy a-and drained.” Eric admitted looking up from his lap to Anti’s face.

“Oh is that all?” Anti asked smiling and leaning closer, “I can make your heart race again.” Without allowing Anti to make that choice for him, Eric closed the gap between them. He pressed his lips to Anti’s feeling his heart beat against his rib cage. Anti pulled away a few seconds before the door opened. Eric opened his eyes, staring confused at Anti. Randal pushed in Eric’s Wheelchair. Eric turned away from Anti and slowly began to remove his prosthesis. He handed them to his friend and with some help was able to pull himself into his chair.

“Will you need help?” Randal asked looking uncertain.

Eric looked over his shoulder a small embarrassed smile on his face, “No I feel pretty good t-this t-time. Not 100% b-but ok enough t-to b-be a-able t-to t-take a-a b-bath b-by myself.”

After a few seconds of Randal searching Eric’s face he said, “Alright. If you’re in there for more than an hour I’m going to come check on you.”

Eric rolled his eyes, “W-whatever dude. I learned t-the last t-time I lied t-to you t-that I can’t get away w-with it.” Randal nodded a tight smile on his face. He patted Eric’s shoulder and left the room once again. Eric didn’t know how to feel at the moment he was confused and slightly hurt. Hadn’t Anti just told him that he liked him? Why would he pull away from the kiss? Eric looked at Anti who’s eyes were on his interlaced fingers in his lap. Maybe he was shy? Eric decided he would leave Anti alone with his thoughts. He clumsily turned his chair around and left the room. He went and got clean cloths then rolled himself into the bathroom. Within five minutes he had undressed himself and was sitting in the bath. He sat allowing the water to run with the stopper open as he tried to wash away as much of the ash as he could. Once he was satisfied he plugged the tub and was planning on allowing himself to soak for a while. There was a soft knock on the door.

“It’s open.” Eric called pulling the curtain closed. The fact that the bathrooms were shared by several rooms was one of the things that many of the Ego’s had issues adapting to, but it was a very easy and welcome transition for him when they had moved in. When his brothers had been around there was only four bathrooms for thirteen boys. You learned to find privacy in public places.

“Eric….” Anti said. Eric could hear his boots on the tile.

“Yes?” Eric answered not entirely sure what to expect.

“I..It’s not that I didn’t….I just…” Anti said struggling to figure out what he wanted to say. Eric decided to stay quiet. He hated when people interrupted him when he was trying to get something out assuming that they knew what he wanted to say. “I want you,” Anti said quietly. Eric pulled the curtain back slightly so he could look at Anti. Anti was looking down at the floor looking very uncomfortable. “You are one of the best, most handsome, sweet and amazing men I have ever met.  I don’t want to put your life in danger because of my feelings for you. You have already had enough toxic people in your life and I don’t ever want to make it worse.” He looked up, his blue eyes full of desperation; wanting Eric to understand what he was trying to say.

“A-are you s-saying you’re t-toxic for me?” Eric asked confused, “B-because you’re not. You’re gentle, kind a-and understanding of w-who I a-am. I’ve never met s-someone like you. I don’t ever w-want you t-to t-think t-that you are. You make me feel s-safe.”

Anti let out a breath that Eric hadn’t known he was holding. He dropped down to his knees so they were face to face, “Eric I know I’m not perfect by any means. And being in a relationship will be new to both of us. I’m not saying I’m toxic…I’m saying there are people in your life that are. I know how one of those people seem to feel about you likening…men.”

Eric frowned, “A-are you s-saying my father is t-toxic?”

Anti sighed looking like he was forcing himself to keep eye contact with Eric, “You know he is.” They both sat in silence after this bold statement.

Did Eric know his dad had toxic traits? Yes but he didn’t think he was completely toxic. He loved his father and just wished to take his pain away. “W-why a-are you b-bringing up my father’s ….” Eric asked unable to finish the sentence himself.

Anti bit his lip, “I’m sorry I’m not trying to upset you, I’m just trying to explain myself. I saw the way you looked at me when Randal walked in…you were hurt. I didn’t know who was walking in and if it was your dad…I didn’t want him to get any angrier at you then he already is.”

Eric nodded slowly. It was now his turn to turn his face in shame, “My father w-wont t-talk t-to me for t-the next few days. He w-will s-sober up and w-will pretend nothing ever happened.

“you do know that’s not normal right?” Anti asked quietly resting his hands on the lip of the tub.

Eric looked back around at Anti tears in his eyes. This man could make his heart race, he knew all of his secrets, had seen him at his happiest and worst. He seemed to be willing to accept his father and help him find a solution that would keep him in the house, “Yes I know. I do remember him how he used to b-be. He w-was s-so loving. He w-was my dad.”

Anti leaned forward, pressing his lips against Eric’s forehead. “He isn’t that man right now Eric, he needs help and you hiding what he does doesn’t help you or him.”

“A-anti I cant s-send him a-away. Dark a-already made it obvious w-what w-would happen if he knew a-all t-that w-was going on.” Eric replied feeling trapped in a corner with no way out. He felt like there was nothing he could do to make things how they used to.

“We’ll think of something.” Anti said fervently before he stood up. “I’m going to take a shower.” He disappeared out of sight further in the bathroom. Eric sighed wanting to scream and cry at the same time. He just wanted everything in his life to finally work out. Hadn’t he had enough shit happen to him already to justify some kind of happiness and sanity?

Previous                                                                                    next

@huffle-puff-ego @trashy-mctrashface @anxiousgoddest @djpaige13paige @brookieshookie

p.s. I’m sorry this took me so long to get back to

[paizleyrayz]

VIRGO WOMAN: OVERVIEW & PERSONALITY TRAITS

The Virgo woman is the ultimate combination of brains and beauty. She’s got organizational skills for days, not to mention highly developed characteristics and a dedicated work ethic – all of which ensures that the world will get to see her in action, putting all of her brilliance and talents to good use. These are the women making stuff happen – they’re not just all talk. Virgo is ruled by Mercury, which makes for a passionately intellectual mind and a deeply creative streak. Being an earth sign, however, these ladies really shine when creating something tangible from their inspiration.

Virgoan gals may seem like shy and retiring personalities on the surface, but keep an eye out for the frenetic activity they’re creating behind the scenes – these go-getters are the ones to watch when it comes to big business and the arts, and they’re particularly adept when it comes to combining the two. Count on a Virgo woman to have multiple endeavors going at once, but somehow managing them all to the letter – between her devoted friendships, her impeccable taste, and her thriving businesses, a Virgo isn’t one to let things get messy or mess around. How does she do it, you may ask? One clue is to examine her daily planner, which she is never seen without – it will be color-coded, with cute little stickers denoting her doctor and hair colorist appointments, her gym days where she may work out with a personal trainer, and her free time sessions. (Yes, relaxation is something she plans out ahead of time, too!)

The love of a Virgo woman is poetry in motion, a portrait in devotion. When this deeply romantic earth sign gives you her heart, she wants it to be forever. It’s tough for her to play the modern dating game, as casual flings or one-night stands don’t gel well with this medieval maiden’s proclivity toward a love of chivalry. Long-distance relationships that involve lots of swooning love-letters and lovingly wrapped parcels of meticulously chosen sentimental gifts work well for this woman, who might prefer to dedicate the rest of her energy to her career and alone time. In the long run, though, a Virgo wants her mate at home where they can be cozy together – ideally curled up in comfy matching chairs, both reading.

A Virgoan is generally fairly picky when it comes to choosing a lover. This can lead to Virgo ladies being on their own for long spells until they’re ready to settle down and commit to the perfect person. But is anyone ever perfect enough for a Virgo woman? Sometimes these discerning, cerebral women will flip the script and be in a relationship with someone truly surprising, a pairing of seeming opposites: the unassuming bookish, owl-y Virgo will be swept off her feet by a hot biker or rowdy punk. What most people don’t know is that Virgos are the sexy librarians of the zodiac. They’re hiding a lustiness, a high libido, and a love for sex behind their serious and demure demeanor!

Extremely loyal and honest to a fault, a Virgo will stand by you – and she’ll expect you to do the same.

The home of a Virgo woman is a blessed domain, a sacred space filled with beauty and light. This fastidious lady lives by the maxim “a place for everything, and everything in its place,” and she makes sure that, though she has a love for gorgeous little bijoux and objets d’art, things never feel cluttered or messy. Everything is chosen with an eye to detail. Once a Virgo has chosen a theme (like polka dots, lots of lavender, or art deco), she will go over the top with it – taking her decorative traits to the highest level of art form.

Her spice jars are all labeled perfectly. Her closet is a true wonder to behold. Virgos loathe messes, and struggle with lackadaisical housemates who won’t carry their weight when it comes to equal care and labor with household chores. Because the concept of service is this sign’s theme, a Virgo woman will often find herself saddled with the lion’s share of the housework, and do it herself simply because she cannot stand by and let it go undone.

Don’t dare take it upon yourself to reorganize her bookshelves, or put things back somewhere other than where you found them (or just not at all) unless you want to get on her bad side, permanently. Virgo personalities see their home and possessions as extensions of themselves – treat her space and things with disrespect, and she will take it extremely personally. In parenting, the Virgo mama shines – caring diligently for the health and well-being of her babes with a natural grace.

Female Virgos are many businesses’ secret weapons – in that they are usually the quiet, diligent workers who don’t create a lot of drama or project a ton of ego while they are elegantly and effortlessly wiping the floor with their competition.

This sign does not appreciate being micro-managed. Whatever project or endeavor they put their minds to, they are going to execute beautifully, with minimal fuss – provided they are trusted and left to their own devices to get the job done. That being said, when there are too many moving parts and variables (with tricky human emotions), Virgos can become exhausted while striving for perfection. It’s easy to become bogged down in all the tiny details, though a Virgo is adept at untangling the labyrinth provided that no one comes through behind them trying to “help.” Group projects will run into common scenarios where Virgo woman refuses to delegate tasks (and thus potentially sacrifice perfection) and so will stay up all night doing all the work herself, to ensure that everything is just right.

This earth-centered sign shines when running her own business and investing in herself and a vision that is her own – especially when she can hire equally dedicated and detail-oriented managers and assistants to interface with employees and the public. This lets her focus her attention on the big picture and maintain a semblance of work/life balance. Work and personal identity tend to be intrinsically linked to the traits of these women, and they naturally excel at branding. Saving money for the future and investing intelligently come easily to a grounded, practical Virgo – she always has a nest egg tucked away for a rainy day.

Health and well-being are important characteristics to Virgo women, so they love gifts related to body-care and holistic wellness. Gift certificates for massage and acupuncture as well as facials will be very appreciated here – especially at a high-end spa with nontoxic products. Books, handmade jewelry and art supplies always make great presents for your favorite Virgo. Messiness and carelessness are abhorrent for this meticulous sign, whose own gift-wrapping is always an over-the-top work of art. Virgos enjoy fine craftsmanship and love admiring beautifully intricate wood carvings, embroidery, and tile-work. 

If traveling, take them somewhere where they can be constantly wowed by this kind of magic – the decorative arts sections of most art museums can suffice in a pinch. Remember, Virgo is an earth sign, and this is a classic lady you’re dealing with, so keep it natural, organic, healthful, graceful, and well-considered. A hasty, last-minute grab from the all-night drugstore is probably not a better choice than a thoughtful, handwritten card or letter. A Virgo woman would rather have nothing at all than something tacky or meaningless.

―VIRGO WOMAN: PERSONALITY TRAITS, LOVE & MORE

[megalony]

In good hands- RxRxB

My first Roger Taylor x Ben Hardy x reader idea, hope you like it.

A lot of fluff and a bit of angst.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rubbing a hand at her forehead (Y/N) leaned against the shower wall behind her as everything in front of her was starting to spin. She knew she probably seemed drunk or like Roger when he was plastered after one of the frequent parties they attended due to the band but she was stone cold sober. Her head was hurting so much behind her eyes like there was someone there with a hammer trying to break out through her skull. The aching caused tears to spill from her eyes as she felt her heart suddenly squeezing tightly, starting to beat out an uneven rhythm. All she wanted was to sit down with Ben and have a lazy day until Roger came home from the studio. Taking a deep breath (Y/N) tried to keep her eyes open as she pressed her free hand to the tiled wall trying to stick it there even though her hand was beginning to slip from the excess water trailing down the wall. The water that had once been soothing was beginning to hurt as it beat down against her skin which was already beginning to overheat as she knew her legs were going to give way beneath her or snap like matchsticks at any given moment. As soon as her heart gave another awful slam against her chest a pained cry escaped her lips, hand fumbling and weakly pressing to her skin as if the contact would soothe her heart into going back to the usual pace it should be setting. "Babe what's wrong?!" Ben's panicked voice sounded through the apartment, becoming muffled as it travelled through to (Y/N)'s ears through the powering sound of the water beating down around her. His voice only just visible through the pounding of her blood in her ears that resembled Roger's drums in her mind. "Babe!" His voice rung again when he didn't receive an answer, his body turning rigid as he hurried to get to his feet which slammed against the floor as he started running through the vast apartment to reach the bathroom. Knowing that was where his girlfriend was as she'd told him she was getting a shower just as he came back from doing the weekly shop.

His name drawled from her lips, mushed in with a whining cry that seemed like a desperate attempt to gain some attention and a sign that she was very scared. (Y/N)'s knees caved in like they had been broken, her body tumbling down as if she were a piece of paper folding in on herself. Her body suddenly being cradled by the floor as she was crumpled into the small space, trying desperately to push herself up just enough to lean against the wall as everything began to hurt. Her hair sticking around her face as tears burnt into her features like acid running down her cheeks. A fire beginning to burn in her chest as her heart continued to beat dramatically like it was being shaken. (Y/N) had forgotten just how much physical agony her heart could put her through when it became pressured to give out the wrong rhythm. She was used to getting small pains from her heart, but the full-blown attacks like this were less frequent and caused the fear that this was what dying felt like. Quickly reaching the bathroom Ben felt relief swell through him at finding out she hadn't locked the door, wondering why (Y/N) was suddenly crying out for help. The noise having pulled him from his thoughts making him wonder if she had fallen in the shower and hurt herself. He had managed to get a day off of set and (Y/N) didn't work the weekends but Roger was down at the studio working on a new album with the boys that took up a lot of time but neither minded. It was his job and he loved what he did, who would they be to stop him? The pair were rather thankful that Roger was at the studio because it meant he was out of the public eye for a while which came as a relief. A relationship with three people was a recipe for gossip and Roger was very hot-headed. One rude comment and he flipped his lid, which is exactly what had happened last week. The three of them had been seen with the band after leaving the studio and a reporter just couldn't help but start to ask questions and make some rather rude suggestions about (Y/N) which no one took kindly. The man had been standing just a little too close to them for Roger's liking, seeing him as a threat and with him so close the drummer couldn't help but lunge. Landing a successful fist to the face, breaking the reporter's nose leading to others nearby capturing the moment as Brian and Ben had to restrain the drummer from causing any more damage. Roger couldn't have been happier that the band were so accepting of his relationship that he had kept from them for quite a while. First wanting to keep his private life to himself even though the band were basically another family to him. Then fretting that they wouldn't understand or accept his way of life and he didn't want to fight or argue with the band over something that wasn't their music. After finally telling them he was surprised that they took the news well, Freddie was delighted and wanted to meet (Y/N) and Ben straight away, John didn't seem that fazed, not saying much but then again that was John to a T. Brian wasn't unhappy or against it, but he had been a little sceptical at first because he knew Roger's reputation and way of life, knowing if he did cheat this time he would be breaking more than one heart. But seeing how Roger was with his significant others showed Brian that maybe, this time it would be alright. "Babe, what's happening?" Ben shouted as he stumbled into the bathroom, seeing the steam clogging up the shower meaning that was where she was. Rushing over Ben flung open the shower door, the air getting stuck in his throat when his eyes landed on his girlfriend curled up on the floor in pain. "Fuck!" His voice bounced off the walls and echoed back to him as he reached in and turned the taps off, instantly moving to kneel in the adequate spacing in the shower with her. The knees of his jeans turning damp as the pool of water clung to his frame as he reached out to take (Y/N)'s face delicately in his hands, needing to know what was happening. Realising quickly it was her heart causing the sudden problems as she was holding her chest in pain, Ben moved his fingers and placed them to her neck, feeling the pushing against his fingers wasn't even. It felt very forced and quick before one or two slow beats before rapid pacing set back in again. Ben didn't know what he was meant to do to help, whenever he had been around and (Y/N)'s heart became stressed it was never this bad that she was on the floor screaming. It was always discomfort on her features and her body pulling in a little as he and Roger helped her breathe through the feeling which usually disappeared within ten minutes or so. (Y/N) had a heart murmur which created an uneven rhythm, but this was only a problem if her heart was under great stress or suddenly started to slow or quicken the rhythm. Ben was used to holding her through the small murmurs of her heart but something like this had happened once when he was around and he had had Roger with him. Roger seemed to know what to do to help. Undoing the first few buttons on his plain black shirt Ben pulled it from his frame, gently pulling (Y/N) forward to him. Carefully pulling it over her head and slipping her arms into it, wincing when a choked cry left her lips at the movement. Her head pressing into his chest as she trembled, gripping his arm tightly when her chest seized up and Ben could hear her breathing differ from the pain that was evidently getting worse. He didn't know what he was meant to do to help her other than sit and hold her. They needed Roger. Reaching into his back pocket he felt a sigh of relief etching out of his lips as he felt the familiar rectangle of his phone sitting idly in his pocket. Pulling it out he kept a tight grip as not to let it drop into the water as he pressed the studio's number, knowing that Roger wouldn't answer his phone if he was recording or practising and they needed him now. "Hello? I need to speak to Roger now it's an emergency." The tone of his voice was evident for the other person on the end of the line to comply with the order. Not even daring to tell Ben the usual jargon about Roger being busy recording because that wasn't going to wash with the actor. "S'alright baby, just breathe for me." Ben realised he sounded rather like he knew what he was meant to be doing though his mind was screaming, and he hoped that his assuring voice would be enough for (Y/N) right now. Seeing she seemed to be alright with it, her head staying against his chest as he moved closer, arm slipping around her back resting on his shirt which was sticking to her frame. Holding her front against his own as she was curled up against him, a cry leaving her lips just as Roger came onto the phone. "Babe I'm just- that's (Y/N) crying- why the fuck is she screaming?!" Roger's tone went from a mix of caring and concerning at first to utter panic and anger. He was just about to tell his loving boyfriend that he was finishing up his solo on one of the songs when (Y/N)'s cry pierced his ears, followed by a scream that ripped through Ben's skin. The actor shivering at the noise as he held her tighter, wishing for this to end. "She's collapsed in the shower, her heart's doing that thing again. Babe I've never known it this bad we need you to come home." Ben didn't even feel a tinge of guilt for having to drag Roger from the studio when it was his job, he had never rang Roger at work before. Sure he had gone to visit Roger to see him at work and had taken him lunch with (Y/N) a few times but he'd never rung him and demanded that he come home. Telling Roger this was bad, both knowing he was the only one who had dealt with (Y/N) like this, Ben was a worrier and being in this situation alone was something of a nightmare for him. Tears were already welling in his eyes. "I'm gonna leave now okay? How bad is it?" A confused look appeared on Ben's face that his boyfriend could practically see when the answer barrelled through his eardrums. "What are there, stages of badness? It's fucking bad Rog." Sarcasm dripped from his tone earning an angered sigh from the drummer. "Sometimes bad is not being able to breathe and crying, sometimes it's rolling on the floor or fainting I need to know if you've gotta go to the hospital you pillock." Roger snapped, not liking the sarcasm being thrown his way from his lover. If he didn't know the seriousness of her pains then he couldn't determine over the phone if Ben should take (Y/N) to the hospital. Meaning by the time he reached the pair of them she could be a whole lot worse and in need of assistance. "She collapsed and she's crying in a lot of pain." There was a gentleness to Ben's words as his tone thawed out, hearing Roger sigh. "Tell me what to do." He pleaded, voice barely above a whisper as he felt his throat constricting with unshed tears and sobs. Ben didn't want to be the one to have to console (Y/N) and try to help because he didn't know how he would rather Roger be in his place so he could be there to comfort them both afterwards. To watch from the sidelines and keep a check as Roger helped and did what he knew how to help. "Did you say you're in the shower?" Ben hummed in response, looking down to (Y/N) as she was still breathing harshly but seemed to have stopped screaming. Her sobs clogging up in her chest. "Let her calm down, rub your finger over her pulse point and just talk to her. Keep checking her pulse, if there are more than two jumps at a time you really have to take her to the hospital. Don't stay in the shower either, cramping up won't do anything. I'll be ten minutes if you're not at the flat I'll know where you are. Alright, babe?" Roger reeled off the thoughts popping into his mind that seemed the most useful and normal routine ones he stored in his head for these emergencies. "Thank you." Ben responded earnestly, running over the words in his mind to make sure that he remembered and didn't have to stall Roger from coming home any quicker. "Tell her I love her, I'm gonna go now, I love you babe." Hanging up the phone when he was satisfied Ben was calmer and knew what to do Roger glanced around, needing his jacket and keys. Looking back down to (Y/N) Ben slipped the phone in his pocket before gently pushing her so she was leaning back against the wall so he could look at her properly. Tears flush down her features as her shoulders pulled inwards when her heart lurched after being calm for a minute or two, tricking her into thinking everything was back to normal. Placing his index finger to her neck Ben concentrated of feeling and counting the beats, lips tugging into a frown as another jump in beat shudderedd through her artery. The feeling causing (Y/N)'s eyes to close as a moan struggled against her lips, body weakening at the agony that was going on too long for their liking. "Baby, Rog loves you and he won't be long. I need to move you, are you alright with that?" He didn't want to pick her up and take her out of the shower if any sudden movement was going to cause her unwanted pain or if she felt more comfortable sitting here even if they shouldn't. Nodding her head (Y/N) managed a murmer of agreement, slipping her arm around Ben's shoulders as he picked her up, cradling her to his chest as if she were a child. Slowly stepping out of the shower as not to fall Ben walked out, making his way to the bedroom as (Y/N) leant her head on his shoulder, leaning and kissing his neck gently causing his muscles to lose some of the tension they were harbouring. Setting her down in the middle of the bed Ben helped to lay her so she was slightly propped up against the pillows, stretching her legs out to try and help with her circulation. Immediately Ben watched as her expression went from distorted with pain to a little more at ease, her jaw loosening as her face stopped scrunching up allowing her features to relax. Showing him Roger's suggestion of being cramped was a perfect assumption, her heart was struggling as it was, with her tensed and contorted into that cramped shape it would have been more of a struggle to supply the blood to her limbs. Sitting down beside her Ben leaned down, finger pressing to her neck again and adding a slight amount of pressure, rubbing soothing circles onto the artery but still allowing him to count the beats. "Baby it's alright, ride it out it won't last I promise. Hey, just look at me I'm not going anywhere but the pain is." He pressed his finger a little harder trying to soothe the pain as (Y/N) tried to pull in on herself when a shudder ran through her, her heart in distress. Her eyes opening and locking with the baby blue ones of Ben as he pressed a chaste kiss to her lips trying to create a distraction for her. His right hand moving and pushing her knees down when she pulled them up trying to get relief, gently trailing his fingertips over her side, feathering over her hip bone and down her thigh. "There we go baby." He soothed, lips pressing to her cheeks, forehead and neck when she calmed from the pain which subsided. Noticing there was a slight tremble in her limbs Ben smiled gently, getting to his feet and grabbing a pair of boxers from the closest draw and Roger's long sleeve top hanging on the chair. Walking back over he lifted her legs, slowly slipping the boxers over her frame and dragging them up her legs, pressing a kiss to her stomach as he did so. Helping her to sit up and shed his shirt from earlier which was soaked, though it had thankfully cleared the water from her body, and slipped Roger's top over her form instead. "Thank you." Her voice was hoarse from the screams that clawed at the back of her throat, lips tightening for a brief moment causing Ben's hand to go back to her neck. The sound of the front door slamming open and shut left the both of them feeling relieved as their boyfriend had made it home. His heavy footsteps sounding through the apartment as he peered into the bathroom, drum/ music room and then the bedroom, relief in his own body at seeing they were still here and not at the hospital like he fretted. "Oh thank God. How we doin' sweetheart?" He questioned, practically jumping on the bed on (Y/N)'s other side, hand replacing Ben's on her neck as he kissed her temple. Moving his hand to press to her chest to feel her heart a bit better, his body jumping when he felt the tremor in her rhythm that speeded up more than it should have. "Just a little jump, nothing more it's alright. Babe, can you grab the small brown tablet bottle in the cupboard please? Maybe an aspirin as well, to thin her blood a bit." Nodding Ben pressed a kiss to Roger's cheek before heading out of the room to get what was requested. "Looks like you were in good hands." Roger commented gently, easing his arm around her back and helping her to sit up, leaning her back against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

[a-girl-with-a-big-heart]

You're Mine

Twice Sana x Manager!Reader

Fluff

Prompt: She gets jealous when she sees someone flirting with you.

You were running back and fourth behind the stage of TWICE's concert. As one of their managers, you couldn't catch a break. You needed to make sure your team was handling their costumes and makeup when they get back. Your team were running low on staff, and you had to double check that everything was going smoothly. As you were running toward their dressing room to make sure that they each had their own outfit, you bumped into someone causing you to almost fall. But the person had caught you by your waist before you fell face first onto the tile.

"Whoa, careful there." A voice boomed over you. The person had a strong grip around your waist, and you struggled to get out of their grasp. When they turned you over to face them, you were met face to face with a young man.

"Thank you." You say rather quickly. The man gave you a toothy smile.

"No problem. Watch where you're going next time." He says. You can't help but give a sheepish smile as you bow your head.

"Right, sorry." You say rather quickly. "I'm in sort of a rush, so if you'll excuse me." You tell the man. You don't give him time to say anything before you make your way back to the girls' dressing room. You half jog there before making your way in front of their door. You fumble with the keys in your hands and open the door. There was only 5 minutes left before they came back here so you had to be quick. Once you get in, you go over to their clothing rack and count each costume. You make sure they all had their outfits ready when they came back stage to change. You double check them all in case you somehow miscounted. Right when you finished counting, the door to the room swings open, and you jump backwards. Sana comes bursting in first, and you smile to yourself after seeing her.

"What are you doing here y/n?" She asks you. Each of the girls step through as you make your way over to the other side. Sana gives you a side hug before stepping over to change.

"I had to make sure you guys had everything ready for when you get back on stage." You say. You see the girls starting to change and you took that as your cue to leave. "I'll be outside if any of you need anything." You make your way out of their room, and wait by the wall for them to finish changing. As you’re waiting, you see the same guy from earlier walking down the hall. He notices you and immediately a smile grows on his face as he walks over to you.

"Well if it isn't the person who almost fell face first on the tile." He joked. You felt a slight brush of embarrassment wash over you.

"Thank you again for catching me earlier." You tell him. He shrugs it off as if it were nothing.

"Don't mention it." You watch him eye the door beside you, and his eyes widen. "Twice's manager." He says that more to himself than to you. "I'm BTS's manager." He says to you. He leans against the opposite of the wall in front of you, and you nod your head, pretending to be amused.

"Cool." You say. You glance at your watch and realize that the girls have to be back on stage in 3 minutes. You knock on the door and wait for a reply. "3 minutes." You tell them. Jihyo responds back with an 'okay'. You turn your attention back to the guy in front of you, and his smile never fading.

"I'm Jason by the way." He reaches out his hand, and you shake it after a moment of hesitation.

"Y/n." You tell him your name. He stuffs his hands in the front of his pockets and you already know what he's trying to do. He's flirting with you. It's painfully obvious. You pray the girls get out soon so you don't have to talk to him.

"Beautiful name for a beautiful person like yourself." He states. You give him a tight smile, hoping he'll go away if you don't say anything. Just then, the door opens and all the girls come rushing out. You let out a relived sigh. You’re about to follow them to the stage, but the guy keeps talking to you. "You know, I had a fish named y/n. It died shortly after two days." Now he's walking by your side as you follow close behind the girls. You want him to go away, but you don't know how to tell him off without being rude. So you let him continue talking to you as you kindly ignore him.

"Maybe if you took care of it properly, it wouldn't have died." You say. He laughs after you say that. You can tell Sana is noticing the guy because she keeps glancing back at you. By now you've reached the stage, and Jason is still talking to you. You watch the girls take their places on stage, but Sana doesn't seem to move. You go over and push her lightly, but she still doesn't budge.

"What are you doing?" You whisper to her. You glance over at the other girls already on stage looking back at Sana with confused expressions. They're about to perform their next song, and just as the lights dim low enough, you felt Sana's warm lips press against your cheek. Just the smallest gesture of her hand cupping the back of your neck as she placed small kisses all over your face made your heart go crazy. She lightly tapped her long index finger on your lips before whispering in your ear.

"Mine." She nipped her teeth on your earlobe before running back to take her spot on stage. The girls seemed to notice and snickered to themselves. Your face was red hot from that as you turned around. You realized the guy hadn't noticed what she had done before talking to you again. You tried to pay all your attention on Sana throughout the rest of the performance. But it was hard when you had a guy talking your ear off. Every now and then, you would see Sana give you a wink and you could feel your cheeks get all flustered. You couldn't peel your eyes away from her even if you tried. Watching her perform brought back memories of the time when you realized that you started to have feelings for her. You can almost grasp the imagine between your hands.

It happened two years ago when you realized you had feelings for Sana. After one of their concerts, you went to check up on the girls to see how they were doing. They all were dead tired and exhausted. You felt bad that they had another shoot they needed to go to the next morning, and on top of that, a bunch of interviews. But Sana seemed so lively still, it amazed you how she wasn't tired at all. Considering how many concerts they've been performing up til now. You suggested that you would go get some medicine and some drinks to keep their health up. Sana insisted she would go with you. On your way to the store, she told you about her personal feelings and thoughts on the group. Usually Sana was the clumsy one and was always immature and childish, so seeing this new mature side of her, made you start liking her. You think at that time, was the moment your feelings grew for her. Even if you were the groups manager, you were still human. Sana and you grew closer ever since then, and you slowly learned more things about her. She opened up to you, and you told her things about yourself you never thought you'd tell. She brings out the good in you. A few months later when you told her your feelings, it was fortunate that she felt the same as well. You were waiting for her backstage with a smile on your face. Although your heart was beating loudly in your chest and your hands were nervously sweating, you were on the tip of your toes. You still remember it as if it were yesterday.

"Sana!" You said once you saw her. She came over to you with a smile on her face that made your heart beat even louder if it were possible.

"Y/n!" She came over and threw her arms around your neck. When she pulled away, you stared into her eyes very seriously.

"I have something I want to tell you." You both said at the same time. You were both surprised for a moment before bursting out with small laughter.

"On a count of three?" She asked. All you did was nod, agreeing with her. You counted down, and as soon as the number three was heard, you both said the same thing.

"I like you."

You couldn't stop smiling to yourself at the mere thought of back then. You've been together for almost 2 years now. Although you can't be public about your relationship, it was okay for you to be able to just be hers. You hadn't realized you spaced out when you saw the girls coming off stage. That was their last performance for the night, and you gave each of them a high five as they passed you.

"Great work guys." You tell each and one of them. As you got to Sana, she gave you a warm hug. She's never this affectionate out in public. First the kisses, now a hug after a concert? Something wasn't right. But you weren't complaining. "Is there a reason why you're being this affectionate?" You ask once she pulls away. She starts walking backstage, and you follow right behind her. Jason not to far behind. He seems oblivious to how much affection you two have been showing each other. But how can he notice when the lights were practically off earlier?

"I just feel like hugging you." She responds plainly. You eye her curiously. You know that's not why. There has to be a reason behind all this. There always is when it comes to Sana. You almost forgot about Jason before he pulled you into another conversation.

"So, y/n, I was thinking since we're both managers and all, we should exchange phone numbers." He tells you. Without having to look behind you, you could feel Sana staring holes into the back of your head. The wheels inside you are finally turning when you realize why she's been acting the way she has. She's jealous. The only time Sana is ever jealous is when you stare at the ice cream bars with adoration instead of her. A small smirk appears on your face when you get an idea.

"Sure. We can talk about the groups collaborating together." You start saying as you pull your phone out of your back pocket. You can tell Jason likes the idea and starts getting his phone out as well.

"Yeah! Let's discuss it over some drinks some time. I'll pay." He says. In a swift motion, you suddenly feel arms wrap around your waist as you're dragged back into someone's chest. You smile to yourself without having to look who it is.

"Back off." She practically growls at the guy. You smirk to yourself when you see Jason lowering his phone. Sana hugs you closer from behind as she nestles her head on the crook of your neck. "What are you doing?" She whispers in your ear. You can't help but chuckle lightly to yourself.

"I'm sorry. I just wanted to have a little fun." You tell her without looking back. Jason is standing there awkwardly while watching this fold out. You've never seen Sana get jealous over something like this.

"You call flirting with someone else fun?" She asks a little annoyed. You sigh realizing you probably pushed it a little too far. You lean back further into her chest as you rest your hands around hers.

"Sana, you know I'm yours." You tell her reassuringly.

"But does he know that?" She asks in a not so subtle tone. You sigh grabbing her hand that's around your waist, and turn yourself into her to kiss the top of her head.

"He does now." You smile at her, hoping she can let this go. But she doesn't budge as she stares down the poor guy in front of you. You glance between her and the man, and he shifts uncomfortably where he's standing. But that doesn't stop Sana from glaring at him.

"Not enough." She whispers to you. You turn back to her with her arms still wrapped around your waist. You raise your brows in confusion at her statement.

"What-" Before you could finish your sentence, Sana brought her lips onto your. You could taste her strawberry lipstick she wore from earlier. You remember getting her that on one of your dates. You felt your heart flutter against your chest like a butterflies wing. The way she brought herself into you made you cup her cheeks. She wasn't giving you time to breath as she deepen the kiss. When you opened your eyes just slightly to see, you saw Jason walking away very quickly. When Sana finally pulled away from you, she still didn't let go of your waist.

"Sana, we're supposed to keep us a secret." You say in between breaths, but Sana only shakes her head at your words.

"I don't care." She states.

"I'm your manager, and you're an idol. We can't-"

"I don't care!" Sana cuts you off with a raised voice. You flinch against her and she notices. You watch her sigh deeply to calm herself down. "I don't care if anyone sees. If someone is flirting with you, I want them to know that you're mine. You knew he was flirting with you, yet you agreed to exchange numbers. Why?" She asked. You could tell the tone in her voice shift between her sentences. You ran your fingers through her hair and kissed the top of her head.

"I'm sorry. I guess I wanted to see your reaction." You tell her. She scoffs.

"Well you got what you wanted." She says to you. You furrow your brows as you lean your forehead against hers. Sana takes another long breath before composing herself again.

"Please relax. You know I love you and only you. No one, nothing, is going to change that." You tell her. "But we have to keep this a secret from the public." Once you say that she's breaking the contact your shared foreheads had.

"You're mine and I plan on showing everyone that you are." She tells you earnestly looking into your eyes. "But you're right." Her grip weakens around your waist as she says the last part. You can tell she's really down about this. You bring your face closer to hers so that your breaths are hitting each others faces.

"The world just isn't ready for us yet." You say. You see the corner of her lips wanting to tug into a smile, so you continue. "Maybe one day we'll be able to show the world that we're together. But for right now, isn't us being together enough to know that we are each other's world?" You rub your thumb across her bottom lip. Sana seems too busy looking at your own to register what you had said. But you know she heard you as she starts leaning in again.

"I love you." She mumbles out right before your lips meet. You part you own so she knows as well.

"I love you too."

[starfast]

Cross the Kingdom- Chapter 10

“Morbane”

Word Count: 3826

Read on Wattpad: Link

More about this project: Intro Post | Other Info

 Crispin had never actually been on a train before, and at the rate things were going he hoped he would never have to go on one again. Going into it, he thought he wouldn’t be so bad. He had spent weeks at a time travelling on the Mad Maiden, so surely he could manage spending a few days on a train. Now, after having travelled all through the night and through most of the day, Crispin was eager to get off the train again. They had stopped briefly in Westcliff the day before, which had been a six hour trip from Coral Bay. Frank had used the time to get caught up on some sleep, while Crispin had taken some time to walk around the city at Frank’s request. 

 “The trip to Morbane is going to be a long one,” Frank had said as they arrived in Westcliff, “Might as well get some fresh air and stretch our legs out while you have the chance.” 

 That had been nearly five hours ago. Five long hours of being cooped up in the locomotive which barely seemed big enough for just the two of them, which seemed to become smaller and smaller with each passing minute. Five hours and still had several more to go. 

 It must have been close to midnight when Frank told Crispin to get some rest. There were two bunk beds towards the back of the locomotive, and Frank had told him he could have whichever one he wanted since he needed to stay awake through the night. Crispin had originally taken the bottom, but as he lay on the bed surrounded by walls on three sides he began to feel trapped. He tried to sleep, but he couldn’t get past the feeling that the walls were closing in on him. He had no idea how much time had passed before he finally decided to see if he would be any better off on the top bunk, but that hadn’t gone over any better. Even though he had enough room to sit upright, when he lay on his back he felt like the ceiling was only inches away from his nose. He managed to fall asleep eventually, but he woke up several times during the night. Sometimes he was awoken by the ear-shattering train whistle. Other times he woke himself up after accidentally rolling onto his injured wing. But most times he was woken by a squeezing sensation in his chest, drenched in a cold sweat. 

 When he joined Frank at the front of the locomotive again, he could see the brilliant orange sunrise shining through the window. Rays of sun peeked through rows of trees, casting golden light across open fields. 

 “Morning,” Frank greeted him, not taking his eyes off the railway track that seemed to go on forever. 

 “G’Morning,” Crispin mumbled, rubbing his eyes sleepily. 

 “Sleep ok?” Frank asked. 

 “Yeah,” Crispin said. It was a lie though, and not even a good one at that. Frank hadn’t even looked at him yet, but he still saw right through him.

 “Most people find the train a little loud at first,” he said, “Makes it hard to get any rest. You’ll get used to it though, don’t worry.” 

 “Right,” Crispin said. He didn’t let Frank in on the real reason he had not slept well. He could only hope that just like the noises made by the train, he would get used to the claustrophobic interior of the locomotive. 

 When they arrived in Morbane early in the morning, Crispin tried to hide his relief. He stepped out of the train and onto the tiled floors of the platform. He followed Frank out into the crowded train station, finally free of the confined space that he had been stuck inside for the past thirteen hours. 

 Crispin had only been to Morbane a few times. His father tended to avoid it since the King had a larger presence in Morbane than he did in Coral Bay. Captain Hadley never feared the King, or any authority for that matter but he still wanted to avoid getting thrown into prison, so it had been a while since Crispin’s last visit. He didn’t remember much about the city, only that it was far nicer than Coral Bay. Where Coral Bay was run down, dirty and filled to the brim with unsavory characters, Morbane was the exact opposite: Clean, tidy and generally safe. 

 Even the train station was reflective of the city’s pristine reputation. Brick arches held up the domed ceiling which was lined with windows that let in rays of sunlight that reflected off of the tiled floors which were practically spotless. Crispin had thought that the station in Coral Bay had been pretty impressive, much bigger than he had anticipated. The Morbane station put it to shame, just like everything else in the city. 

 Crispin followed Frank out of the station and onto the streets of Morbane. He drew in a breath,  tasting the salty sea air that was so familiar to him. He was surprised to see how close the station was to the ocean; the one in Coral Bay had been much farther in land. It made sense though when Crispin spotted several horse drawn carts packed full with crates and barrels moving back and forth between the station and the docks. 

 Frank decided that the first thing they should do is get something to eat. Crispin hadn’t been feeling particularly hungry, but he obliged nonetheless. The pair made their way to a small cafe that was only a short walk from the station. They found themselves a table on the cafe’s sunlit patio.  A server came by, offering them both some tea.

 “We’ll both have some,” Frank replied, “Thank you.” When the server left he said to Crispin, “Sorry, I just figured that you could use something to help wake you up a little more. You still seem a little tired.” 

 Crispin nodded in agreement. He had never really liked tea that much, but he welcomed the idea of being at least a little more alert. He was so tired that he felt like he could fall asleep standing up. When the server came back out and placed the  two mugs of steaming hot tea on their table Crispin didn’t even wait for it to cool down. He took a small sip, burning his tongue on the bitter drink. 

 The two of them made idle small talk as they waited for the tea to cool down some more. Crispin found that there was little for them to talk about, since Frank had made it very clear that they were not to talk about New Vellarton in public.

 “If the wrong person overhears us then the town stops serving its purpose as a safe haven,” Frank had told him. So they mostly talked about New Vellarton in the privacy of the locomotive, and made awkward small talk in public. 

 Their conversation had seemingly hit a dead end. Not really in the mood to force out a conversation, Crispin stared out at the streets, watching people pass by him as they went about their day to day activities. As he watched the people go by, he couldn’t help but feel a little bit out of place in his plain red coat. The men that he saw wore fancy tailored suits, and the women wore dresses that trailed along the ground but somehow never got dirty. Morbane was a city that catered to the upper class, and Crispin was out of his element. He was used to the rough streets of Coral Bay where fights seemed to break out on every corner. Not that didn’t mind the peacefulness of Morbane, but it was a stark contrast from his hometown. 

 Crispin noticed a pair of men walking by dressed in navy blue coats with two rows of golden buttons. A silk white sash crossed over each of their chests and swords hung in sheaths from the men’s belts. It was the patch that they wore on their sleeves that caught Crispin’s attention-- an eagle with its wings outstretched and a crown on its head. He recognized it instantly as the royal coat of arms. It was a fairly scarce sight in Coral Bay, but he recognized it nonetheless.

 “...Not our problem if something happened to him in transit,” one of the guards said, “Our instructions were clear. Just bring the Prince to Lord Roland. We can’t do anything about it if he never showed up to begin with.”

 “True,” The other guard said. He let out a sigh then added, “although I reckon that King Matthew may fire us anyways.”

 “I highly doubt that,” The first guard scoffed, “There’s still a chance that he might show up still. If not, anything that happened to him outside of Morbane is beyond our control, and effectively not our problem. Don’t waste your time worrying over it…”  The two guards walked away, out of earshot. 

 “Interesting,” Frank murmured as the guards walked out of sight. 

 “What is?” 

 “What those two guards were saying,” Frank said, “There’s been a lot of rumours going around about whatever the hell is going on in the castle. One that’s come up recently was that there was an attempt on the prince’s life recently. The King is either trying to downplay it or outright deny it happened, depending on who you ask.” 

 “Curious then that the Prince has seemingly vanished according to those guards then,” Crispin said. 

 “Exactly,” Frank replied in a low voice. 

“I sent an informant into the castle before I came to pick you up,” Frank said, rubbing his bearded chin thoughtfully, “Things seem to have been pretty dicey in the castle for a while.” 

 “Really?” Crispin asked, leaning forward slightly so that he was literally on the edge of his seat. 

 Frank nodded. “It’s hard to say for sure what really goes on in there,” he said, “Hence sending in Audrey. One thing that we do know for sure though is that the King is at odds with his brother, though I’m sure you know that already.”

 This was news to Crispin, but he didn’t quite want to admit it. He’d always had better things to do than worry about whatever the royal family was up to. It wasn’t like they seemed to care all that much about what went on in Coral Bay. Or anywhere else outside of Galtia for that matter. It had been years since King Matthew had left the capital. Even the Winter Palace, which Crispin could see from where he sat, perched on a cliff that overlooked the city of Morbane, had been vacant for as long as Crispin could remember. 

 “Right,” Crispin said, but he had spoken a moment too late, and Frank had seen right through him. 

 “Prince Alexander has been jealous of the King,” Frank explained. 

 “Why?” Crispin asked, “He just wants to be king?” 

 “Pretty much,” Frank said.

 “Why doesn’t he just kill him then?” 

 “Shush!” Frank hissed, “Not so loud!” He looked around then leaned in close. “The King still has men here. Don’t give them a reason to come after you.” 

 Crispin glanced around at the people who walked through the streets. Even the children were well dressed, and any one of them could have easily had ties to the royal family. “It’s not like I’d ever do it,” he mumbled.

 “Well, I’m glad to hear that at least,” Frank replied, “King Matthew is on our side.” He lowered his voice to almost a whisper and said, “He’s already trying to crack down on the Patrol and--”

 “I hear that’s going really well for him,” Crispin in an equally quiet voice. 

 “Laugh about it all you want,” Frank huffed, “But he is ruling in our favour, and that’s more than we can say about his brother.” He sat back in his seat and added, “Perhaps we should discuss this later.” 

As much as he wanted to, Crispin knew better than to press him. He continued sipping at his tea, which had finally cooled down to a bearable temperature. 

 After they ate a quick breakfast, they left the cafe to start on some errands. Frank had cautioned him to stay close to him at all times. Crispin had scowled at the request. He had spent the first thirteen years of his life growing up on the streets of Coral Bay, and the last three living on a pirate ship. Morbane was a walk in the park compared to both his hometown and his father’s ship. Nothing was going to happen. Even if something did, Crispin had fought his way out of many perilous situations. Despite his injured state, he was confident that he could do it again. 

 He followed Frank in and out of many different shops, as the conductor went about buying some things that were needed back in New Vellarton. Mostly, it was clothing to help prepare the citizens for the long upcoming winter. Frank had come prepared with a list of measurements of all the citizens so that he could properly pick them out. He went into several shops pretending to buy for his family.  “Do you have any winter boots in a size ten?” He would ask the shopkeepers, “I’m looking to buy a pair for my son.” At this point, the shopkeepers would usually give Crispin a skeptical once over at which point, Frank would clarify, “Not him.” 

 As they continued shopping for supplies, Frank stopped and peered into the window of a shoe store. Rows of black boots were on display in the window. They were so shiny that Crispin could practically see his reflection in them. 

 “We should get you a pair,” Frank said. 

 Crispin looked down at his pair of brown leather boots. He’d had them for such a long time that he could not remember a time where the boots weren’t dirty and scuffed. There was even a hole at the toe of his right boot, but it was so small and insignificant that he had never bothered to try and get it fixed. Despite how worn they were, Crispin still believed that they served their purpose. 

 “Your feet will freeze right off in those,” Frank said, before Crispin could object, “Come on. Let’s get you a new pair.” 

 Frank walked into the store, and Crispin followed close behind him. A tiny bell rang as the door opened. Right away, Crispin was hit with the rich scent of leather that filled the tiny shop. He walked along the rows of shoes, which seemed to come in just about every shape and size. From elegant high heeled women's boots to sturdy work boots, the cozy shop seemed to have just about every kind of footwear that Crispin could imagine. 

 “Can I help you two find anything?” The shopkeeper asked from behind the counter. 

 “I’m looking to buy a new pair of boots for my apprentice,” Frank said, “He’s a size…” he turned to Crispin. 

 “Six,” Crispin finished for him. 

 “Yeah, we’ve got a few that should fit,” The shopkeeper replied, “Anything particular in mind?” 

 “He’ll be working on a cargo train,” Frank explained, “We’ll be going all throughout Toltova, so he’ll be needing something that’ll keep his feet warm in the northern and interior areas.” 

 The shopkeeper nodded. “I think I have a pair that may work.” He came out from behind the counter and disappeared down one of the aisles. He came back carrying a box with the words “Burbant & Elvard Shoe Co” stamped onto it in black ink. He opened up the box revealing a pair of shiny black boots lined with white fur. 

 “Try these on,” The shopkeeper said, handing the box to Crispin, “They might be a little snug, but the fur should get pressed down the more you wear them. The leather will stretch out over time as well.” 

 Crispin sat down on a stool and pulled off one of his boots, and set it down next to him.

 “I think we might need to get you some new socks as well,” Frank remarked as he looked down at the sock on Crispin’s foot. It had been white at one point in his life, although now it was more of a grimy beige. 

 Crispin took the new boot out of the box, and pulled it onto his foot. He struggled to get it around his ankle, but after a bit of pulling he was able to force it onto his foot. The boot felt  a  little tight around the bridge of his foot, but not so much that it was uncomfortable. In fact, this boot was far more comfortable than his older pair. Feeling satisfied with how they fit, he let Frank pay for them before they headed back out to the streets of Morbane.

 They set back down the cobbled streets, which were lined with tall pale buildings that seemed to sparkle in the morning sunlight. Crispin walked down the street, staring up at the beautiful buildings. There were so many little details that went into each one that it was hard to not look at them just to take it all in. One building was lined with elaborate cornices. Another was decorated with tall columns that supported a triangular roof  that stood above a large set of wooden doors. Some had tall elegant spires that reached up to the sky, while others had large domed roofs. 

 Crispin had been so distracted by his surroundings that he didn’t even notice that Frank had stopped to buy a newspaper from a young girl standing at an intersection. 

 “You going somewhere, Crispin?” Frank had called out to him after he began to wander a little too far away. 

 Crispin had turned back to see Frank handing the little girl a couple of coins in exchange for the newspaper. He stood in place as Frank walked to catch up with him. 

 “I just thought this might be interesting,” Frank said handing the paper towards Crispin, “We don’t have to look at it now, but just made me think of the conversation we were having earlier.” 

 Crispin looked down at the paper. In bold black letters, the headline on the front page read ‘KING MATTHEW REFUSING TO SPEAK OUT ABOUT CASTLE RUMOURS.’ 

Crispin paused, leaning up against a tall white column. This was probably not the best time to be reading the paper, he realized as people moved around both him and Frank. He skimmed over the article which read:

 Citizens of Galtia are growing increasingly frustrated with his Royal Majesty, King Matthew, who is keeping the public in the dark in regards to some rumours that have begun to circulate within the past few days. While nothing has been confirmed as of yet, it has been speculated that an attack took place at some point on the eve of the 28th of Tenth, when King Matthew hosted a party within the castle walls to celebrate his forty-second birthday. 

Exactly what happened that evening remains unclear, however many attendees were able to agree that some sort of disturbance occurred which prompted both King Matthew and Queen Angelica to end the event several hours earlier than originally scheduled. Many have speculated that there was an attack on Prince Christopher, who has not been seen since the evening of the party. According to the Royal Family’s official spokesperson, the Prince is in an undisclosed location but is believed to be safe and unharmed. 

The spokesperson also mentioned that both the King and Queen are both refusing to comment on the matter for the time being. Many remain hopeful that they will be able to shed light on the situation, though many others are dubious and are left to speculate. 

 Crispin handed the paper back to Frank. He hadn’t finished reading the article, but he got the gist of it. He decided he would read the rest of it on the train, which he hoped would be enough to keep him distracted from how claustrophobic he had felt inside the locomotive. Part of him hoped that he would get used to it, like Frank had said, but he very much doubted it. He had always preferred open spaces. When he’d been on his father’s ship, he’d always had the entire deck at his disposal when he felt like he needed some space. He did not have that same luxury on the train. Although, if there ever was a time to like small and closed in spaces, it would be now. 

 Crispin was forced to abandon his thoughts on the train when Frank grabbed at his arm and pulled him down a street. 

 “Sorry,” He said quickly, “I completely forgot there was something else I needed to pick up.” 

 “What the hell?” Crispin hissed. 

 “I’ll explain later,” Frank said between gritted teeth. 

 Crispin didn’t ask any further questions as Frank led him down a series of streets. He followed Frank who suddenly seemed to be in a great hurry. Frank had since let go of Crispin’s wrist, but was walking at an unnecessarily swift pace. They wove in and out of crowds, trying not to bump into anyone as they went along. 

 Crispin was left puzzled when he spotted the elegant facade of the train station in the distance. He had known right away that something was amiss when Frank had grabbed his arm, but their detour left Crispin with more questions than answers. Not that Crispin had minded getting to see more of the city, but they would have reached the station about five minutes sooner if they had gone back the way they had come. 

 Even when they were inside the station, Frank still walked at his faster than normal pace. It was only once they were inside the train that Frank seemed to relax. He let out a sigh of relief, and sat down in his conductor’s chair. 

 “So what happened back there?” Crispin asked as he began to shovel coal into the firebox. 

 Frank glanced around the station before he said in a low voice, “Patrol guards.”

 Crispin raised his eyebrows. Even though Ambrose had confirmed the existence of the Patrol, they didn’t seem like much of a threat to Crispin. He had never really seen any concrete evidence that they were still operating, aside from Ambrose’s letters from his daughter. To Crispin, the Patrol still felt like nothing more than a rumour. He had grown complacent; the Patrol would not hurt him. That kind of thing only happened to other people. 

 “Did they recognize you?” Crispin asked. 

 “I don’t think so,” Frank said, “But I recognized them. It’s better that we just keep our distance from them.” He sounded the loud train whistle, and the train began moving slowly down the tracks away from the majestic city. And away from the Patrol, the subtle danger that lurked in an otherwise perfect city. 

 ---

<<Previous Chapter

Next Chapter (Coming January  22 2020)

Tag list: No one yet, but please let me know if you’d like to be added.

[lofiyeol]

PAPERCUTS - CHAPTER 1

It all starts with a death.

summary: After the sudden deaths of two of their friends, Chanyeol and Baekhyun try to piece together what happened and end up uncovering a tangled love story.

rating: R

genre: angst!!! a lot of it!!!

pairing: kyungsoo/jongin

length: chaptered

warning: suicide mentions throughout

READ ON AFF 

It all starts with a death.

Or does it end with a death? Chanyeol can barely think straight these days, he isn’t sure—

What he does know is that when he gets to school, the murmuring is loud and disquieting. He’s shifting uncomfortably in his seat by the middle of first period, uniform itching at his neck as he cranes his head to listen to the bubbling of conversation all around him: just little snippets of words here and there, and then he notices the glances. Everyone’s eyes linger just too long on him as he shoves his face in his book, trying to read the assigned passage, but the words might as well be in an alien language. He feels hot, nearly sweating under the fluorescent lamps and the whispers of the classroom. These aren’t good stares. He can sense it.

In second period he begins aggressively tapping the desk next to his as its occupant, his closest friend, slips quietly into class just a minute after the bell has rung. The teacher’s a substitute and has started a film on the projector, so the class should be on their phones or quietly throwing paper balls at each other. However, today it’s full of whispering, just as with first period, and the balls of Chanyeol’s feet are grinding into the floor tiles with stress. “Baekhyun,” Chanyeol says in a low but aggressive voice. In the seat beside him, Baekhyun’s dark eyes flicker to meet his own.

“What the fuck is going on?”

            “What do you mean what the fuck is going on?” His brown-haired friend responds quickly, ducking his head slightly to divert attention. “You don’t know?”

            “Know what?”

            Baekhyun doesn’t respond.  Chanyeol’s finger stabs into the smaller’s desk. “What, Baek?”

            In that second the schoolwide intercom system crackles to life. Everyone’s attention jerks up to the speaker on the wall, waiting.

            “Mr. Lee, please send Park Chanyeol and Byun Baekhyun to the office immediately. Thank you.”

            If the stares and voices were bad before, it’s nothing compared to now as Chanyeol and Baekhyun rise slowly from their chairs. The substitute teacher doesn’t make any move, having fallen fast asleep in his chair. Chanyeol tries to ask more questions with his eyes, beseeching Baekhyun for any word or plan of action, but Baekhyun doesn’t meet his gaze. He only tugs once on Chanyeol’s sleeve, a command to follow, and walks quickly out of the classroom.

            As the door bangs shut Baekhyun whirls around, and Chanyeol’s more than surprised to realize the smaller’s eyes are red and full of tears. “Whoa, whoa, okay, can you please exp—”

            “Shut up!” Baekhyun hisses suddenly. Chanyeol flinches, and Baekhyun makes a strained sort of noise through his teeth in response, raking fingers through brown hair. “Sorry, I’m sorry. I just…”

            “It’s okay,” Chanyeol cuts him off. “Just please tell me what’s going on. People have been fucking looking at me like I have two heads.” Their voices echo through the empty hallway, bouncing off lockers and reverberating back into their ears. It makes Chanyeol feel open, exposed.

            “Something happened,” Baekhyun starts, as he begins making bounding strides down the hall. Chanyeol nearly trips over himself to keep up. Baekhyun pulls a sleeve quickly across his eyes, and it comes away dotted wet. “I can’t—even really say it out loud but—Jongin—”

            Chanyeol recalls hearing voices mutter the elusive boy’s name in his classes that day. Jongin. The handsome dancer, transfer student, and standout from the suffocating homogeneity of his Seoul high school. Jongin had tried to blend in, but it was impossible. His shyness was his allure, and everyone took notice, including Chanyeol and Baekhyun. They’d come to know him over the year. He sat at their lunch table often, although whether Chanyeol would call him a friend, he isn’t sure.

            Baekhyun turns a corner, and then another, and opens the door to the school office. The secretary gives them a strange look as she sees them walk in, picking up the phone and quickly dialing in a number.

            “… Jongin?” Chanyeol whispers to Baekhyun, and Baekhyun just presses his lips together, shaking his head. Chanyeol’s about to pry just a bit more when the principal’s assistant walks into the waiting room. “Chanyeol and Baekhyun?”

            “Y-yes,” Baekhyun answers.

            “Follow me, please.”

            In a huge public school like this, you have to do something pretty bad for the administration to take enough notice to send you to the principal’s office, so Chanyeol feels pressure begin to build in his throat. He’s been a prankster all his life, but he can’t remember anything that serious he’s ever done, and nothing at all to Jongin. Baekhyun either, or he’d have told Chanyeol about it. The assistant opens the door to the principal’s room where the woman sits, hands folded in her lap, eyes trained immediately on Chanyeol and Baekhyun’s faces. She’s clearly been sitting there for some time, waiting. Chanyeol forces down the lump with a hard swallow.

            “Please sit down.” The principal waves her hand and as if they were robots, Baekhyun and Chanyeol clunk on command into the cushy chairs.

            “Maybe you’re wondering why I’ve called you here today.” She sighs, leaning back in her chair. “If you’re concerned, neither of you are in trouble.”

            Chanyeol breathes an audible sigh of relief, but Baekhyun is still rigid in his seat, frozen like a mannequin. Chanyeol can feel the tension in the boy’s muscles almost radiating out like a heat wave.

            “Miss…” Baekhyun manages through his teeth. The principal looks up, and Chanyeol stares at him too. “Is—is it really true? It is, isn’t it?”

            The principal’s serious grimace betrays the answer before her words does. “It’s true, I’m afraid. I’m very sorry but Kim Jongin and Do Kyungsoo have passed away.”

                       Chanyeol and Baekhyun have two very opposite reactions: Baekhyun wilts into the leather of the chair, head falling like a snapped flower; Chanyeol finds his legs moving him to stand, eyes round and wild, lips jerking in an attempt to form words.

            “W-what?” He finally stammers.

            “As a school, we try to let friends of a passed student—or in this case, students—know the news as soon as we get it. We heard that the two of you were close with both Jongin and Kyungsoo.”

            Chanyeol is immobile. Every one of his limbs have seized and he stands like a dumbstruck giant, staring down at the principal sitting down at her desk. Baekhyun shakes with silent sobs, head in his hands, ribs heaving in and out.

            “We’re attempting to track down all the facts, but it’s still very early. I’ll let you know that it’s pretty clear that they were both suicides, and likely correlated, but we won’t let the students know that detail yet. We’ll hold an assembly of the senior class after lunch to notify them, but we’re going to allow the two of you the opportunity to leave classes for the rest of the week and you will be granted extensions on all of your work.” She turns to look at the papers on her desk. “Your friends Kim Minseok and Kim Jongdae have also been notified and given the same privilege. You can leave at any time today, or stay, if you so choose. Your teachers have been notified.”

            Baekhyun is the first to rise after a few terrible minutes. He chokes out a thank you and then he and Chanyeol leave. The walk down the hallway back to the waiting room seems to stretch millions of miles longer than it did when Chanyeol came in, and it’s worse because Chanyeol’s legs feel like solid wood planks. He can’t believe he even makes it out of the school until the warmth of sunlight hits him in the face.

            It’s a beautiful, crisp day at the beginning of fall. The leaves are changing from green to orange and red, freckling all the trees like spots of blood. Chanyeol throws up into a potted tree.

            Tears are streaming down Baekhyun’s cheeks and nose, which are dusted red with the blush of the cold morning. He shivers, watching Chanyeol heave his breakfast up the other way, and removes his scarf for Chanyeol to wipe his mouth on. Chanyeol gives him silent thanks.

            “How did you know?” Chanyeol’s throat is hoarse, mouth still stinging with acid. Baekhyun’s head is haloed by the pale sun as Chanyeol looks up at him from his crouched position.

            “In my first period someone told me. This girl. Lives on J-jongin’s block. Said she saw the p-police there. Heard something about Kyungsoo b-but… thought it was just rumors… I didn’t know…”

            Chanyeol manages to get to his feet, though his head is spinning dangerously. The two of them stand there in the piercing day, wavering slightly, holding themselves in their own arms. They stay like that for a bit; Chanyeol has no hope of accurately measuring time in his state. Baekhyun is the first to move, bridging the space between them and enveloping Chanyeol into a hug.

            Chanyeol cries into Baekhyun’s puffer coat, hot tears soothing him as they fall. Baekhyun pets his hair softly, though Chanyeol knows he must be doing his best not to cry himself.

            “Do you want to go home?” Baekhyun’s voice cracks.

            Chanyeol nods into the crook of Baekhyun’s neck.

            “My house or your house?”

            Chanyeol is silently thankful that Baekhyun knows to stay by his side. “Your house.”

                       They catch the city bus. Chanyeol stares blankly out the window as the skyscrapers pass by, a whirling mesh of metal and shiny blue glass that he can make look almost like the sea if he squints hard enough. Soon enough they turn to houses, small apartments stacked on each other in spindly towers. Beside Chanyeol, Baekhyun doesn’t utter a word, only looking down at his scuffed sneakers.

            Baekhyun’s apartment is on a hill. The hike up the winding road seems longer than usual, but any movement at all is like torture for Chanyeol—all he wants to do is curl up in a ball on the floor and shut his eyes. The electric chime of the lobby door is so nauseatingly happy sounding that he almost feels like throwing up again.

            Baekhyun unlocks his door with a click and it swings open. The house is quiet, a bit messy, but welcoming. It’s practically Chanyeol’s second home. He’s spent countless evenings here playing videogames and eating cup ramen with Baekhyun. Chanyeol finally lets his leg buckle and he falls into the soft tan couch without a word.

            “Are you hungry?” Baekhyun shrugs off his backpack and it hits the wood floor with a thud. Chanyeol shakes his head into the pillow. Baekhyun heads into the kitchen anyway, and Chanyeol hears the stove clicking to life and the sound of boiling water. He turns his head just slightly so he can see the top of Baekhyun’s head bobbing around as he rummages through drawers.

            It reminds him of a moment a few days ago. He, Kyungsoo and Baekhyun were wandering through the aisles of the convenience store, Kyungsoo urging Chanyeol to talk to the girl who worked the counter and Baekhyun threatening to do it himself if he didn’t. Chanyeol finally made his move, leaning his elbow on the counter as the girl rung up his candy bar, seeing out of the corner of his eye two heads of hair sticking out from behind a rack of magazines.

             Kyungsoo was one of his oldest friends, Chanyeol thinks numbly, vision once again beginning to blur with tears.

            And he’s… dead?

            Chanyeol tries to add it up, spin it every which angle, but he still just can’t understand.

            Baekhyun sitting down at the dining table thankfully gives him something else to look at besides the wall. He tries to pay attention to every flick of Baekhyun’s wrist as he stirs, every shift in every curl of hair, the steam rising in lazy tendrils towards the hanging light.

            “They should be coming over,” Baekhyun says quietly between mouthfuls. “Jongdae and Minseok. At some point soon.”

            Their speech is bare, stripped of the usual cackling irony, each word falling flat and sinking quickly. The talk tastes bitter on Chanyeol’s tongue, tainted by the day’s gruesome backdrop, so they fall into silence once more. Baekhyun tosses Chanyeol a blanket and Chanyeol begins to drift off into sleep. He allows his body to shut down, finally, and darkness is pulled under his eyelids like a thick smothering blanket. Perhaps when he wakes it will hurt a little less.

[yourdreamscenarios]

When you do a photoshoot together I part 1

Characters: Jungkook / OC Genre: Fluff, slight smut word count: 4,693

”If you think it’s too awkward we can still cancel it. There’s no one who forces either of you into this. You can both still say no.” The photographer told you in a serene voice, obviously trying to make the both of you feel at ease, which was easier said then done. Taking a deep breath you pulled the robe a little tighter around yourself, staring at the man in front of you. He looked really friendly, not like someone who was going to make this very hard for you. There were a few photographers who would have high standards, expecting the perfect poses and the best shots. He, on the other hand seemed very relaxed about his job, but was probably also forced into that role because he noticed how stressed out you looked. 

Silently you moved your glance towards Jungkook, reading his reaction to all of this. His eyes were big, fingers ticking nervously on the armrests of his chair. He looked uncomfortable to say the least, as if he wanted to jump out of the window and escape from all of this. Quietly he turned his head to look down on you, sending you a questioning look. It seemed as if he was putting the final decision in your hands, but that was all easier said than done. You had already agreed, so in the end there wasn’t much left for you to do about this. It wasn’t like it should be this bad, it would just be a challenge for the both of you, didn’t you like to be challenged? Yet, you would have loved it much more if you’d been allowed to put some more clothes on. 

“Maybe I should give the two of you some time to discuss this.” The man said, sending the both of you a reassuring smile before getting up from his chair and leaving the room. Silence sank down over the two of you as your boyfriend leaned forward in his seat, getting his hands through his hair. Jungkook and you had been together for a year and a half by now and you were both comfortable with each other. There wasn’t much you didn’t know about each other and you definitely didn’t have a problem with seeing each other naked, or less clothed. It was just that you weren’t used to other people seeing you or your partner this way. The two of you’d had plenty of time to talk this over and had constantly bumped into the same issues. 

Jungkook hated the fact that others would be able to see you in a way he thought he should only be allowed to see you. He didn’t care about showing off his own body, but he despised the thought of having to share your body with others in pictures that would never leave the internet again and which would follow you forever. Also he was afraid that you would regret it later on, when things could no longer be undone. You on the other hand weren’t sure about this project in general. The reason why women or men had to reveal their entire body to the outside world was a mystery to you. You were an artist because you loved making music, because you loved to share your passion for it with the world, not because of your looks. You were completely against the idea of showing off your body in order to sell more albums or to gain more popularity. 

But the two of you had released a duet song a few days ago, and your managers thought it would be a great idea if the two of you would do a photoshoot in order to promote the song. You’d both been supportive of that idea, until the details of it had been revealed. Seemingly it was going to be an extremely sexy photoshoot. Everyone knew you were a couple, and you were loved by the public, so they wanted to use it in their advantage. It was already strange for you and Jungkook to work together, because usually your professional lives remained completely separated from one another. You had your band, he had BTS and your activities ran past each other, never intertwining. Usually companies were against a couple working together in this industry. It could stir a lot of rumors and negative emotions which could be prevented.

But a few weeks ago your companies had agreed on pairing the two of you up for a new soundtrack of a drama that was coming out soon. You had both been stunned by the news, but you’d been happy to find out that the two of you could finally make some music together. Now you’d been able to combine your two biggest loves together into one. Recording the song had been so much fun, it hadn’t felt like working. This on the other hand, was something else. “You know what I think of it.” Jungkook said, locking his eyes with yours and holding your gaze, trying to read your thoughts. He knew what kind of person you were, that sometimes it was difficult for you to speak up your mind and actually say no to someone who was expecting something from you. But he didn’t want you to continue this if you didn’t feel one hundred percent okay with what was about to happen. 

If there was one thing he was happy about it was that you didn’t have to do this with anyone else. If there was any guy you had to undress for he wanted it to be him. It already made him feel annoyed that there were staff members who would get to see you like this, leave alone if it would have been another idol in his spot. You shrugged your shoulders, unable to look away from him because of his intense stare. “It’s not like I’m not confident about it…” You mumbled, lacing your fingers together on top of your lap. You embraced your own body and you weren’t embarrassed because of it. Everyone had flaws, everyone had things they would like to change, but that didn’t mean that anyone was less beautiful. Everyone deserved it to feel good about themselves. “Well, that shouldn’t be a problem.” Jungkook said, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips and you rolled your eyes at his cheesiness. 

Heaving a deep sigh you finally made your decision. You could have bailed a very long time ago, could have told your manager you weren’t up for it and you would rather do a different concept. Now you were here, your hair and make up was done and you were in your first outfit. You had let it come this far, so you might as well push through. What did you have to loose? Your innocence? You had lost that quite a while ago. You blushed because of that thought and quickly looked away from your boyfriend before he would notice. “Let’s just do it, it probably won’t even be as bad as we might think.” You muttered, brushing your hair back behind your shoulder. He pouted his lips, as if he didn’t quite agree with that last statement. But after studying you for a little while longer, he nodded, giving into you. “Alright, if you’re in then I’m in.” He said, smiling at you before getting up from his seat. 

Following suit you let him snake his arm around your middle before pulling you closer. It was weird to think he would be doing the exact same thing in a little while but in front of so many people. “If you feel uncomfortable I want you to tell me. We can still tell them not to use the pictures.” He could probably see the tension written all over your face, and was trying to sooth you, hiding the fact that inside he was just as stressed as you. This was a concept that was just as new for him as it was for you. He was used to having to act sexy in front of the camera, but he wasn’t used to be flirtatious or sexy with you in public. He could already tell this would be a very exhausting day and that it would probably take a while before the two of you would be able to shoot the perfect pictures as you were both as tense as a wire. 

“It’ll be fine. Let’s go, they’re probably waiting for us.” You assured him, escaping from his hug before taking a hold of his hands and pulling him out of the room with you. It was a very weird feeling to have your bare feet hitting the tiles, you weren’t used to not wearing shoes on a set. The robe tickled against your bare legs and if it hadn’t been naturally hot in here, you might have been freezing. Jungkook was looking down on them, watching the way your naked legs moved in front of him. If there was one thing he hoped for than it was that at least that he would be able to control himself. Usually when he saw you tripping through the dorm like this the two of you were by yourselves and he had the time and space to do whatever he wanted. He wasn’t used to the idea of you being this close to him like this in any different situation than the two of you being simply intimate with each other. It was going to be a rough day for him. 

As soon as the two of you entered the set you both slowed your steps to look around yourselves. And the director and photographer immediately noticed your entry as he clapped his hands, making his way towards you. Beside you Jungkook squeezed your hand softly and normally he would actually let go at this moment. Holding hands with you wasn’t something he usually did at work, but knowing there were several other borders you were about to cross today he might as well start now. You gave him a stunned look but didn’t say anything, not that you had the chance to, the photographer already started talking. “Today we’ll be taking pictures on these two sets. We’ve got the room divided into two. One side is furnished as a kitchen and the other as a bedroom.” 

“Tomorrow we’ll be moving to an outside set, one around the pool and one with a car. I’m sure it’ll be fun.” He said and he seemed so excited while talking about it that it was almost contagious, if you hadn’t been this nervous you might have reacted the same way. The set was indeed beautiful, it was all looking very stylish and modern. Most of the furniture was white, like the covers of the bed and the curtains, with a few red accessories that made the interior look sexy without even trying, it was effortless. “I suggest we’ll start off in the kitchen area, if you’re ready, we’ll get into it.” He remained professional as he turned away from you to let you take off your coats in peace. staff was walking around the room like they did with any other photoshoot, for them this was the most normal thing in the world, just a day at work. A girl walked towards you to check your make up one last time, patting a brush against your lip. 

As soon as she was gone you turned towards Jungkook, seeing how someone was getting a brush through his hair and was spraying some product in it. As soon as he was done he took a deep breath before shooting you a careful smile. Gosh, this was so awkward. “Let’s get this over with.” He said as he finally untied the tangle of fabric in the front of his middle and took off the robe he was wearing, one identical to yours. You weren’t able to guide your eyes away from him as soon as he handed it to one of the crew members, leaving him in his first outfit for the shoot. You were sure you were looking like a fool, and actually it was crazy. You had seen everything about your boyfriend there was possibly to see, yet, you still couldn’t help it. He was wearing a white button up shirt, but unlike usual, the first five buttons were left undone, revealing his collarbones and the first part of his chest. 

His skinny jeans was hugging his thighs perfectly and the outfit combined with his slightly messy hair made him look like the god of seduction. Catching your gaze he winked at you and you couldn’t stop the blush that was forming onto your cheeks. That smug look on his face was a challenge to you and you quickly put aside your discomfort to get out of your own robe, slipping it down your arms as a girl came forward to take it from you. It was as if Jungkook’s eyes were supposed to jump out of his head as they widened at least two sizes. You smirked, victory was at your side. He was momentally mouth struck as he stared at you. Just like him you were wearing a plain button up shirt, but the color had changed into a light blue. It reached just below your hips, the sleeves rolled up to your elbows. Your hair fell down your shoulders in messy waves. To some it may look cute, but he knew that from the second you would flash him your seductive smile you’d turn into the most sexy woman he knew. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this.” He blurred out, suddenly feeling the intense need to steal that robe back and hide you in it, feeling his possessive side coming towards the surface. People weren’t supposed to see you like this. Yet you chuckled, flipping your hair back before making you way towards the set, starting off with the kitchen just like the director had suggested. Your fingers slipped across the counter, feeling the smooth material of the black stone. Jungkook followed like a lost puppy, not really ready to leave you out of his presence just yet. He glared at the assistant who was looking at you, probably just to decide what angle he wanted the two of you in, but he couldn’t help himself. The man’s eyes widened in shock before he quickly looked away, clearly uncomfortable. 

“Stop it.” You hissed, hitting his chest as you watched all of it happen. Jungkook huffed, agitated as he stood in front of you and blocked your body with his. “This doesn’t mean anything, they’re just a few pictures, that’s all. We can do this.” You assured him, sending him a smile and seeing how he subtly tried to loosen the tension inside of his shoulders. He nodded, trying to get a grip on his usual professionality. He had done so many photoshoots before, it would be fine. You were right, they were just photo’s. “Okay, let’s get into it. We were thinking that for the first pose it might be best if you hoist her up the counter. Just make it look fun, casual, smile at each other. Let’s not try too hard during these first few shots. We want it natural.” You could tell he was starting slow on purpose, trying to warm the two of you up to the idea of having to go all the way eventually. 

You could do natural, to you everything you did when Jungkook was around was natural. You didn’t have to force a smile when you were with him. Finally he seemed to be able to relax a little as he smiled at you, placing both of his hands on your hips as several people changed the lightning and you already heard the clicking of the camera’s in the background, taking random pictures of the movement. You placed your arms on top of his shoulders, waiting. “You ready?” He asked, grinning as you rolled your eyes at him. A shriek of joy left your lips when he suddenly lifted you up, as if you were a feather, and settled you down on top of the counter in front of him. The cold material pressed against the back of your thighs, making you gasp and he laughed, the melody ringing through the room. It wasn’t hard to imagine that the two of you were just at home by yourselves, like nobody was watching and you were just having a playful moment.

But you were soon reminded of the people in the room as you heard the sound of pictures being taken every second. It was as if he noticed the same thing because his smile turned a little stiff when he did. “Okay, great! Now, let’s get the concept in there. Just pretend as if we’re not here, talk to each other, let things flow. Perhaps _____________, you can hook your leg around him, get him in the middle. Jungkook, don’t be afraid to hold her, just do whatever feels right.” The director continued and you heard Jungkook heave a deep sigh as he moved himself in between your legs like he was asked. “None of this feels quite right.” He rumbled in displeasure and you chuckled at his grumpiness. You hoped that you were able to hide the uneasiness you felt, the way your heart rate picked up in your chest as you circled your legs around his middle, feeling the way his fingers tickled your skin as his eyes drilled into yours. 

“It could have been worse.” You tried to brighten the mood as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, trying to ignore the fact that your shirt was riding up and everybody in the room was able to see the black panties they had let you wear this morning. At least you were able to do this with him, you never would have agreed to anything of this sort if you’d had to do this with someone else. Not that he would have let you, you were sure he never would have agreed to let you do it. It wasn’t that Jungkook was always jealous, it depended on the situation, but you could tell his jealousy was clawing at him right at this instant. He sniffed, but a little smile tugged at the corners of his lips as his hands traveled towards your waist, his arms snaking around it and pulling you a little closer. Tilting your head back you gazed up at him, shaking your hair over your shoulder and giving him a slightly challenging look, trying to provoke him. 

“Perfect! Please lean in a little closer, kisses are allowed!” The instructions rang through the room and Jungkook’s nose scrunched at the words before he leaned in and bumped his nose against yours. You smiled and automatically your fingers found their way towards the hair at the nape of his neck. It was a good thing everything happened so comfortably between the two of you, otherwise this would have been a lot harder. His voice was nothing but a whisper as he spoke up, getting lost in between the buzz of words that were coming from the staff, which was a good thing when you heard what he had to say. “If we were at home right now and I had you on the kitchen counter like this, we’d be doing something completely different.” He muttered, a devilish glint inside of his eyes that made you turn yours into slits. Unbelievable, always such a dirty mind, even in the most inappropriate places. He was very lucky no one had heard that, because this was not a part of the shoot. 

He snickered at the look on your face before finally leaning forward and dipping his head to press his lips onto yours. It was a little stiff, as if he didn’t dare to turn it into much more than this. Jungkook never kissed you in public and if he did he limited it to a peck on the cheek or the forehead. The times he actually would place his lips on yours with strangers around were almost nonexistent, unless he had a really good reason for it. With closed eyes you tried to let the feeling take over you, but found that it didn’t really work that way since you didn’t have the feeling this was natural. Usually his lips were plump and soft against yours and it would only take seconds for him to deepen his kisses, digging in for what he wanted. Now, you could tell he was holding back. When he pulled back he took a deep breath, his hand reaching up to grab a piece of your hair and wind it around his fingers, his stare linking with yours. 

“It’s going to be really weird to see this on a picture.” He mumbled softly, and you hummed in agreement, bringing up your own hands to brush them towards his hair. Immediately, not even bothered about where he was, he sighed in content, tilting his head and leaning into your touch. It would indeed be strange to actually see this live. You had never actually seen yourself being so close with Jungkook before, as you were usually just present in it, but there was never someone around to witness it, leave alone turn it into a visible imagine. “Wonderful!! Okay, I think this is enough for this set, we’ve got some wonderful pictures. Let’s change your outfits and then we’ll continue.” Jungkook groaned as he pressed his head against your shoulder, and you both laughed at your own misery. How had you even gotten yourselves into this?

The both of you were taken back towards your dressing rooms where you both got changed into a different pair of clothes. Once again your hair and make up style was changed as they put your soft locks up into a high and voluminous ponytail, a layer of lipgloss covering your lips and black eyeliner drawn on your top eyelids. All of a sudden your look was a lot less sweet and innocent than before. Yet, it was nothing compared to the outfit, Jungkook wasn’t going to like this. The blue shirt got replaced by a black one, and finally your panties were covered by black shorts. Yet, you stylist had left your shirt unbuttoned, leaving it open to reveal the lace bra you were wearing underneath. This was not good. You tried not to look uncertain in this look, but somehow you couldn’t help yourself. You’d never thought of yourself as a person who would reveal this much of yourself to the public, had never felt the need to do so. 

You sighed deeply before getting out, following your way back towards the set to find that your boyfriend was already there. Your breath hitched inside of your throat when noting that he found himself in the same situation, unless, he was completely shirtless. Your eyes followed the lines of his muscular arms, towards his collarbones before slipping down his torso. Was this even legal? As soon as he heard the sound of your bare feet patting across the tiles he looked up, but as soon as he saw you his smile faltered and you could sense trouble coming as you saw the spark lighting up in his eyes. “No, no way. That’s not happening.” He stated, taking big strides in your direction before his fingers easily found their way towards the buttons of your shirt, pulling the fabric together in the middle and closing it. “That button is closing, we’re not discussing this.” He hissed when the director was about to speak up behind you. It was like you had expected. 

His mood was still gloomy when the two of you made your way towards the side of the room that was furnished to look like a bedroom. The crew had already replaced all the technical gadgets and was now adjusting the lightning once again. “I can’t believe this really.” He murmured lowly as he sat down on the edge of the bed, you stilling a step in front of him, your arms crossed in front of your chest. You were happy that Jungkook had taken action because you wouldn’t have felt good with someone taking pictures of you like that. Yet, you couldn’t say that you were pleased about how he was sitting there right now. They really couldn’t have let him wear a damn shirt? When he finally looked up at you he let his eyes roam over you once more, this time he didn’t even try to hide the hunger that bloomed inside of them. 

“I can’t take this.” He whined, and you finally felt a smile appear on your face as you adjusted a strand of his hair which was poking in the wrong direction. They had exchanged the messy hair for his usual smooth locks, the fringe almost covering his dark eyes. “Alright! We’re ready. _____________, feel free to sit on his lap. We’ll take a few more pictures over here and then we’re done for today.” The director said already placed behind his camera and ready to snap some shots. Swallowing audibly you loosened your arms from around yourself before stepping forward and placing your legs on either side of Jungkook’s hips. He leaned back slightly, granting you the space you needed to sit down on top of his legs, his chest extending as he took a deep breath. “Remind me that we never do something like this again.” He stated and you giggled, but silently agreed with them. This concept wasn’t really ideal for the two of you and you were sure this was going to follow you for quite some time. 

You could already imagine the way both of your members would tease you with this. “I will, now let’s get this over with. I really want to go home.” You said, feeling the way his arms curled around your back, his brown eyes gazing up into yours. You couldn’t help it when goosebumps appeared all over your arms and legs. Usually when he looked at you like that he would make you melt. “We better get out of here soon or I’m going to have a serious problem.” He muttered softly, sending you a helpless glance which you didn’t really understand. Was there a problem that could be worse than the one you were involved in right now? Tilting your head to the side in question he hid his face in the crook of your neck, and the director seemed to be a big fan of that, because he silently told you to continue, probably not wanting to break the spell that seemed to be over you. But when he shifted underneath you, you felt it, right against the inside of your thigh. 

“Jungkook!” You hooted, wanting to scold him but knowing that it wasn’t his fault, it wasn’t like he could control it. “Sshhh, don’t say my name now.” He whispered and you quickly pressed your lips together into a straight line, but still couldn’t hide the smile that was forming around it. He was unbelievable, but you couldn’t help but feel slightly proud. “One more kiss to finish it off.” Jungkook groaned in misery, clearly not happy with his pick of words, making you snort. He was quick to smother his mouth against yours and as soon as he got the sign that all the pictures were taken, he lifted you up before placing you back on the ground in front of him. He moved at the speed of a lightning bolt. A deep blush was already forming on top of his cheeks as he laced his fingers with yours and tugged you with him towards the dressing rooms, bowing towards the staff while mumbling thank you’s but not really looking at them. The stylists didn’t even get the chance to come into the room with you as he locked the door as soon as you were inside. No, you were sure you were never going to do a concept of this sort again any time soon. 

Part 2

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