#the way alisha is acting with her eyes ONLY

[percentstardust]

thinking about them….

[valuunit]

best dad ever

summary: it’s dad’s day and harry and his family celabrate it in the most chaotic way

here in mexico today’s celebrated father’s day, so yeah, i wrote this.

Content: She/her pronouns. children lol, a itty bitty of smut, i wanted to write something but i couldn’t, im with my family 💀, food, pregnancy. oh, mommy is used a couple of times sexually, but nothing crazy. that’s it ig :)

Disclaimer: English is not my first lenguaje so if there’s any mistake i’m sorry, please let me know so i can correct it :D

“c’mon guys, dad should be getting up by now.” y/n walked across the hall, standing next to the master bedroom’s door.

“we’re going mum” alisha said behind her baby brother, dereck, who was barely walking with a ballon in his little hand he was holding like his life depended on it.

she sweetly laughed and kissed her two children. “good job, wait here a minute, when i open the door we’re going to say ‘happy day, daddy styles’, alright?”

dereck laughed, showing his father’s dimples on his face, god, he was his dad in all of its splendor.

“yes mummy!”

“perfect.” she entered the room quietly, her bare feet touching the rug she and harry bought when they were moving in together to their first apartment. “harry…!” she whispered.

“hmm.” he mumbled.

“happy day, sleepyhead.” she started crawling into the bed, careful to avoid his limbs and wake him up with pain.

“oh, yeah, dad’s day. i completely forgot about it, like the rest of the world.” his green eyes were barely visible, but charming as always. his view went to his stunning wife, his words, hovering over his body.

“well, i guess i’m an e.t.” she replied closing the space between their faces.

“i guess so, your out of this world.” his hands went to her hips, sitting them in his thighs.

she laughed and kissed his cheek, then cleaning a saliva stain off of it. “you’re still a flirt, aren’t you?”

“just with you, my love” he dragged his hands up, going under her new lace pj top, passing through her spine, shoulders and back down to her ass. he smirked, giving away his intentions, but y/n didn’t.

“wai-” before she could complain a knock on the door separated them.

“well, later then.” he giggled.

“shut up!, your kid prepared something really cute for you.”

“oh, my babies.” he smiled, when someone mentions his kids his eyes light up in such warm light it’s almost heavenly.

“yes, so, act surprised.”

“mummy! a minute has passed!”

“going, baby!” y/n appeared scared of her only daughter while harry laughed so loudly dereck also did.

she quickly turned to the door, now not caring if she kicked harry’s legs or anything, which she did, right on the balls. “oof, baby!”

“sorry!” she squealed and opened the door.

“‘appy ‘ay, da’y styds!” dereck screamed.

“oh my god, good job love, but.” she laughed at the chaoticness of the situation. alisha was also laughing. “now.” she grabbed alisha by the shoulders gently and let them inside the room.

“happy day daddy!”

“‘addy haffy!” dereck jumped, jumped and landed on the bed. where harry was now seated laughing, his hands in this private area.

“my beautiful children, come here!” he opened his arms letting his daughter run towards him.

“careful!” y/n screamed when she saw alisha landing near his legs.

“come here mummy!!”

“yeah mummy, come ‘ere” harry smirked putting dereck and alisha around one arm, having space for his wife.

“going daddy harry” she went, they were happy in the bed, the ballon, which was harry’s face, floating above them, dereck still gripping it.

“what’s that honey?” with all the fuzz, harry didn’t saw that masterpiece. so he looked up, watching a not so attractive picture of him in a medium size ballon. “wow! i love it bud, thanks!” he said faking enthusiasm.

“he loves it bubba!” y/n smiled towards her son, hi smiled even more.

“i also got u something dad!” alisha went to the door, where were a plate with pancakes, that had “best dad ever!” written with nutella and berries.

“thanks honey!, it’s so pretty and sweet”

“any time, dad” alisha replied, harry laughed.

“i taught her that!” y/n said raising her hand and smiling.

“where were we?”

that’s what y/n heard as soon as she got into the bedroom after taking dereck to bed. it’s been a long day of celebrating, so it was relatively easy.

“hm?” she pretended not to have heard, turning around and quietly locking the door.

“i said…” he kissed her shoulder. “where. were. we.” kiss after kiss he was progressively getting closer to her soft spot at the back of her left ear.

“ahm” even with his kissed it was hard to think for her, “i don’t recall… anything.”

“i could make you remember, or maybe you’ll prefer me to left your pretty little mind in blank.”

she turned to face his beautiful, handsome husband. looking at her with as much love and desire as he looks at authentic tiramisu.

“i like the second one better, but first i should tell you something.” she took his cheek and kissed him passionately, slowly and lovingly.

“whatever you need” he said after a couple of minutes. they joined their foreheads, looking into each other’s eyes.

“i’m pregnant, three weeks.”

she smiled so sweetly in response to his reaction. his whole face fell in utter shock, his hands, shaking, took her face and his eyes searched for every bit of honesty his wife had to offer.

“my love, a-are you kidding?” she shook her head no, a couple of tears going down her face into her wide smile.

“that’s, that’s amazing, thank you, thank you, for everything.” he hugged her, lifted her, spun her, loved her.

“yeah, yeah, you’re welcome. now, where were we?” she smirked, her hands in his face.

“no, love, what about the… you know, thingy…” he replied looking at her stomach.

she laughed, hard. “c’mon, you promised leaving me watching stars, now you do it. it will be fine, it’s smaller than a pinhead.”

“you’re so hot, love. before we do anything else can i thank you again?”

“of course. with an orgasm.”

“your wish is my command, mommy.”

[harlowtales]

Jack and Y/N stir up the toxic 😤 ☣️ ❤️

18 PLUS ONLY - Adult Themes

There was one night Jack came in high and had been drinking which he doesn’t usually do. He crept into your room where you stayed in his condo to cater to his every need as his assistant. He crashed beside you as you lay there frozen. Trying to move him was like trying to move a brick.

Had he wandered into your room thinking it was his? Did he think you were his latest fling that would stay over some nights? Those nights that were so awkward when one of Jack’s flavours of the month would stay over and in the morning you would find some confused girl in the fridge rummaging around for a snack in his Tshirt and boy underwear.

Jack would always shoot you a look as whoever it was this time blew him a kiss goodbye trying desperately to stay. You didn’t seem to care at all. In fact you thought these girls were stupid and wanted no part of Jack’s world as “Harleezy”.

You had gotten to know Jackman Thomas Harlow and Jackman is who you were trying to hide that you adored, possibly had even fallen for…as far as that was possible for you. You were pretty but didn’t really understand that, and didn’t know how to “act sexy”, or any of that stuff, which drove Jack insane for you. He loved the awkwardness, the inability to take a compliment, the complete lack of awareness of how pretty you were, and lack of being able to bullshit him.

In fact, you were kind of grumpy which Jack found cute and would go out of his way to irritate you on purpose. You hadn’t intended your first assignment to be babysitting a grown man but this grown man desperately needed it. He was so kind and sweet it became a role you filled very well. At least looking after Jack had benefits. He was lighthearted and witty, and you needed that in your life.

You were a business grad and that was your mindset. Working for Jack was your first big break. It was Jackman who told you how he really struggled with fame and felt insecure while you two would chill some nights with pups and watch a movie. “Young Harleezy” was breaking hearts and gently kicking girls out in the morning.

However, you started seeing someone else in the business as you had no illusions of you and Jack ever being a thing. Plus dating someone so recognizable didn’t appeal to you. Unfortunately when Jack found out about your new man, he went on a bender at his favourite nightclub, the Hub.

He stumbled onto your bed and crashed, intending to tell you how he felt about you that night, but was too gone. In the morning you woke up to his arm and leg over you looking like an absolute angel with a mess of curls. He must never know how you felt about him. You worked for his label. As you were taking him all in trapped under his massive frame compared to yours, he opened his blue eyes, rubbed his freckled nose, smiled, and pulled you closer going back to sleep.

“J…Jack…JACKMAN it’s me Y/N get your giraffe self off me” you said trying to move just his arm was not working as he gripped you tighter. “Earth to Jackman I’m not Alisha…or “Delilah” who we all know her name is not fucking Delilah…or Jesse who has no makeup line coming out like how stupid does she think we are…or Joanne who like bitch I’m not your maid. Clean the crumbs off the counter when you make your post-dick sucking peanut butter and jelly sandwiches!! Uughhh!”The desperation in your voice reached a strained pitch as you struggled underneath him. This was what Jack was waiting for. He knew you cared and responded half asleep as his perfect pout turned up slightly at the corner in delight.

“Listen Y/N” Jack said still groggy “I know whose bed I’m in just relax.” He nuzzled into you and was full on cuddling now. He proceeded to doze back off and talk in his sleep. You learned he couldn’t stop thinking about you, said you’re his girl no one else’s, he loves grilled cheese with the crusts cut off, and Phil owes him $20.00. You laid there under the weight of him and listened to him babble until eventually you detangled yourself from the labyrinth of arms and legs, and went to make his eggs like you do every morning.

When you entered the kitchen Ismail was there having already grabbed something to eat and was working on his laptop as the sun was just beaming through the large windows over the Ohio river you had a full view of.

“Oh hey” you greeted him off handedly

“Hey.” He said quietly. Ismail wasn’t a big talker which was perfect for you especially in the morning

“He alright?” He said motioning over to your room

“He’s fine just fucking irritating as usual. I think I have a crick in my neck. He sleeps like pups just takes over the bed. Thanks for feeding her.” You replied as you picked up pups and gave her a kiss

“No worries. Sorry he insisted he had to talk to you last night and tell you everything. I couldn’t stop him from going in there.” Ismail apologized “When are you leaving for the Caribbean? We’re all dreading it”

“I leave today…wait what? What do you mean tell me everything is he ok?” You asked Ismail. Jack is always talking shit so you took nothing he said seriously…even in his sleep.

“Nothing.” Ismail said looking like he let something slip. “I’m taking over for you. Jack said he’s not letting some snotty nosed kid from Atlantic make his eggs for 2 weeks so show me how to make the Y/N special.”

You were getting the pan out and everything you needed as Jack never slept in even the odd time he got into some “substances” the night before. You started boiling the kettle for his tea and took the eggs out and a bowl. “Well first of all he only likes them scrambled but I’ve moved him over from hard to soft and some salt and pepper. I also pan fry his toast in THIS PAN. He says he can taste the difference when it’s done in any other pan. Got it? This pan for the eggs, this pan for the toast.”

Ismail gained a new appreciation for you 1min into these instructions. “I ain’t doing all this he gets what he gets.” Ismail vowed. What did he sign up for? Was his boy really like this? “No wonder he loves you so much.” He said and immediately clamped his mouth shut, but you were busy cracking and whipping up everything so you didn’t notice.

You placed Jack’s plate of eggs and pan fried toast on the table with a peeled and fanned out orange on the side with his favourite “Throat Coat” tea. Ismail watched in admiration knowing he wasn’t going to be able to top this.

“Ok Ismail since this is your crash course in all things Jackman let’s go wake him up.” You said preparing Ismail for what it’s like to get his friend out of bed. You were armed with pups which was your secret weapon.

You unleashed puppers onto the bed and Jack was attacked with licking, whining, and barking. Still motionless and in a deep sleep you took a pillow and hit him repeatedly in the head. “Jack!! JACKMAN!!” You yelled “Eggs!!” He came too with a gentle smile.

“Hey beautiful thanks my eggs are ready?” He said looking absolutely adorable with bed head and disheveled clothes from the club.

“Go take a quick shower first. Here’s some water and pop a couple vitamin C to sober up ok? I leave today and I need to make sure you’re ok before I go. You have a conference call with management and Ismail is here. I prepared your notes for your phone interview and the studio called. I booked you in all weekend. You have to finish those last 2 songs and make sure you sign that card for your cousins birthday, and I restocked the bathroom with that soap you like.”

As you gave Jack who was still waking up a run down of everything he needed to know in his life, Ismail was starting to understand why Jack felt such anxiety with you going away. “I’m exhausted already Y/N” Ismail said in awe of you “Jack buddy let’s go bud you got a headache?” He said helping his friend up.

“Yeah sort of.” Jack said feeling more depressed than anything “Y/N you’re meeting him in the islands aren’t you? This mr. record executive.”

You stopped. “Who told you that?” You asked stunned.

“I got my sources. You could’ve just told me… I mean it’s not like I give a fuck. I can have 2 and 3 girls over at a time while you’re gone and I don’t have to worry about whoever I have over crying that you don’t like them.” Jack said being as mean as possible. He had hoped something would’ve happened last night but he was too wasted.

“Jack fuck the whole neighborhood while I’m gone I don’t care.” You retorted annoyed as you busily went about preparing for your flight “Ismail have fun. I know I will.” You smirked which drove Jack nuts.

“Have fun blowing the boss’s son who cares!” He yelled back downstairs as he went up to shower

“Your eggs are cold now.” Is all you said calmly

“Bro. Is he…do y’all always…what in the actual fuck did I just witness? Y’all need to fuck and get it over with.” Ismail marvelled shaking his head.

“Oh trust me, that was nothing.” You said rolling your eyes “now watch when he comes back down.” You predicted in a hushed whisper.

Jack came back down his curls still wet and sat at the table with a sigh for attention while you tidied up the kitchen. “Pookie.” Jack called to you as you had your back turned washing up. “Pook! Yo, my food is cold, can you please warm it up for me?”

“Of course” you said taking his dish with a peck on his forehead to which he smiled and you put his plate in the microwave. “Look I leave in a few hours. Ismail is all set so if you need me don’t call me. I will have no access to email and spotty cell service.”

“Y/N?” Jack said in the most pathetic way “Don’t enjoy yourself too much you know what I mean? You got condoms right?” Jack asked as he sipped on his tea.

With that, watching the most toxic interaction he’d ever seen, Ismail walked away and left the room, he’d had enough.

“I bought a fresh box thank you dad.” You lied stealing a piece of his bacon before handing back his warmed up plate.

“A BOX??” Jack fumed “You know what? I lost my fucking appetite” he said shoving the plate away and folding his arms.

“You know what makes me lose my appetite? All your little hoes losing their underwear in your mattress. Like I’m so glad I don’t have to clean your cum splattered room. They’re so dumb and skanky and gross” You shot back pretending to gag.

“When do you fucking leave?” Jack seethed.

“Not soon enough!” You yelled stomping to your room. He was knocking on your door in 2 seconds.

Ismail was desperately trying to get Jack’s attention to cue up for his interview and conference call.

“Fuck off!” You said through the door as you decided to call your uber and leave early. This was why you were leaving in the first place. Most of the time the toxic banter was all in fun, but sometimes it got ugly.

“Open the door Pookie.” Jack insisted sounding nicer “Can I help you with anything before you go?” Which was his way of getting you to open the door. He didn’t want you going away mad and using your whole box of condoms to spite him.

“You want to help me? Take your meds.” You said still pissed as you opened the door to find him eating the breakfast he said he didn’t want and just standing there. “Why are you so clinically insane?” You asked him while gathering your things to head out early.

“I’m sorry I’m way off lately. I love you, you know that.” He said as he often did. What you didn’t know is that it was true.

“I called my Uber I’m out of here, remember interview and all that other shit. Hopefully when I come back you can treat me like a fucking human.” You said on the edge of tears which wasn’t normal for you.

“Please don’t sleep with him. I couldn’t…I wanted to tell you last night…I” Jack stammered and sat on your bed looking paler than usual

“Jack talk to me.” You said concerned as you sat next to him. “You can talk to me you know that right?”

“Y/N please. I need you to not sleep with this guy.” Jack begged.

“Jack I’m seeing him. I can’t just refuse to sleep with him. We’re getting closer and this will be our first time. He wanted it to be special.” You said dreamily. Jack couldn’t take it he abruptly stood up and started pacing.

“What if I fire you if you go.” He said

You shot up walking over to him to stop him pacing and talking crazy. “Why would you do such a thing?”

“Because…I can’t…ah fuck” Jack pinned you to the wall. He pressed into you and passionately kissed you as his hands began moving all over your body. You felt him rising quickly and panted “Jack no…please”. He pulled his sweatpants down and lifted up your shirt getting one breasts free sucking and biting your nipple roughly “Jack I can’t do this!” You breathlessly exclaimed. He turned you around and felt between your legs to tease your space.

“Then why are you so wet?” He demanded as he backed you up to your bed and pushed you onto it taking his shirt off as he stood between your legs. He kneeled down just admiring your glistening pussy and started licking all the way up your inner thigh, penetrating your dewey core with his hot tongue and suctioning your clit with his juicy lips. You gripped his damp curls with agony. Was this actually happening and why was this happening?

He forcefully had your hips in his grasp as you straddled your shaking thighs around his head. Once he came back up he stood up rock hard in front of you wiping his mouth with a mischievous grin motioning for you to pleasure him. This had gone too far now. The Uber was on the way, Ismail was in the living room, and Jack had things to do.

You took him into your whole mouth pulling the shaft slowly out of your wet mouth with a rotating suck at the tip. He lost his mind rolling his head back moaning and shoving your head down. You gagged a bit but spit on his now purple throbbing cock and pumped him vigorously matching his intense energy.

You both had so much pent up energy and anger that you needed each other so much. He pushed you back and entered you slowly as you winced from his size. This is not how you imagined your first time with him as you had done many nights falling asleep knowing he had brought someone home that you would see in the morning in the kitchen.

“How you give such good head and so…uughhh so tight and wet.” He said out of breath inside you rocking in between your thighs finding his perfect spot before he pummelled you into the mattress. He couldn’t believe how good you were. Had he known he would have done this a long time ago. “Your my girl understand?” Echoing what he had said in his sleep. His tender kiss on your forehead as he went deeper stretching you had you looking into his eyes in disbelief of the painful pleasure. “I’m not nice Y/N. not when the pussy is this good and belongs to me.”

He shifted all his weight onto you making you cry out “Jack I can’t…you’re too big…I…oh god.”

He covered your mouth muffling your pleas for him to stop when he knew you didn’t want him to. He didn’t want Ismail to hear you scream. “Shhhhh” he said in your ear overpowering you in missionary position. “Relax ok? Am I hurting you? Tell me yes.”

He let you speak moving his hand away. “Yes… fuck…PLEASE Jack.! I wont be rude anymore I swear.” The ecstasy you felt was uncontainable.

He smiled and covered your mouth again driving hard and fast and was not satisfied until he felt a tear drip down your face onto his firm hand. It was too much, too much he had held in for too long. He aggressively drove hard until he exploded onto your stomach as he quickly pulled out.

It was more than he had dreamed every night he was with someone else. “Fuck you’re so good” He said dipping his throbbing tip into his warm cum on your stomach smearing it all over before lying back pulling you to snuggle up to his chest. You were both a mess. One of your breasts was out of your bra, and your underwear still around one ankle. It all happened so fast.

Just then the Uber called and Ismail knocked on the door. “Jack buddy your interview and Y/N’s Uber is here.” Ismail called out to you and Jack heaving and sweating, you with his cum still all over your stomach.

“One sec bro.” Jack called out to Ismail and frantically turned to you “Don’t get on that fucking plane.” He demanded both if you still reeling from your rough romp.

“Jack I…” you started to say but he kept you from answering your phone. The Uber was calling you.

“Miss Y/N no longer needs your services. We’ll pay you full fare. Sorry bro.” He said still a bit out of breath as he hung up and tossed your phone on the floor.

“Uughhh!! I hate you!” You said exasperated

“I know baby. I hate you too, and by the way, you’re fired.” He said.

@itsyagirljaz @jackharlow502

[zalrb]

Are there any characters/ships you think had good development/performances, like, it felt like they had many seasons because writers and actors they made the most of it, but they were actually only there for one or very few episodes?

From another post of mine:

Ash and Michael in Star Trek Disco, I mean I remember @initiumseries rolling her eyes at the fact that it took a time loop for them to get their first kiss because she thought it was a cliche but I didn’t mind it because I thought that in a short period of time their relationship was established and established well.

They go through the entire arc of disliking-each-other-distrusting-each-other-but-then-finding-a-common-sense-of-respect-and-then-becoming-friends in one episode

and when the time-warping episode comes along in the next episode, in the very beginning of the episode, it’s established that Michael and Ash have been talking to each other, spending time together for a while through narration and montage

so that when the time-warping actually happens and different characters point out that Ash and Michael have a thing

and they do, I believe it

so there are ways to build up relationships in one or two episodes, shows — especially Netflix shows — just don’t do it.

Chris and Jal in Skins is sort of another example. Like, in series 1 there are certain moments between them that you can point to as them having some sort of connection but they are few and far between because in series 1 Chris was in love with Angie but in series 2, they do their romantic build-up, getting together, breaking up and getting back together again in one episode and it works.

It starts with them having a bet where Chris can't say "fuck it" anymore and has to try to get his life in order and Jal has to stop saying no to everything and let loose and have fun

and we see Jal take that bet to heart when Chris tells her to steal a hat and her doing it and Chris realizing she's amazing

and when he admires her for doing good on their deal, she tells him not to forget his end and he boasts about making fifty bucks selling pills but the whole point is that he's supposed to be getting his act together and finding a real job so she gets upset because he's not taking it seriously

and he kisses her

which works because you see throughout series 1, Chris doesn't have people in his life who push him to try, who believe in him, he's been abandoned by both of his parents, so Jal getting upset that he's not doing the work and through this showing him that she cares about him prompts that response and she urges him to try again and very importantly, instead of abandoning him, she reaches out her hand

and then they're just together and he gets a job, gets a flat, their relationship is working

and then he cheats on her because Angie comes back, he realizes he doesn't love Angie anymore, Jal catches them and they break up

and then he makes an impassioned speech

and they get together again by the end of the episode

Alisha and Simon in Misfits, as well. That came out of the blue in series 2 because Simon and Alisha are polar opposites and you would never think they'd ever get together but Simon comes back from the future very different than present day Simon, more confident and self-possessed so he comes back and straight up tells her, you fall in love with me and you see her fall in love with future Simon throughout the episode. I've run out of space to do gifs so I can't do a proper breakdown.

[syeunko]

Boston homecoming

I looked back at my unfinished goodbye post for Boston from two years ago now, and I had this Joan Didion quote in there: "a place belongs forever to whoever claims it hardest, remembers it most obsessively, wrenches it from itself, shapes it, renders it, loves it so radically that he remakes it in his own image.” Then I'd written, "Boston belongs to me."

Which is 1) not true and 2) funny because I left Boston. And I most definitely did not remake Boston in my own image. But I'm back now! Like Colin said, "The prodigal daughter returns..."

On Monday, Bella picked me up from the airport, smiley and bubbly as per usual, wearing the matching green shirt I'd gotten for us to wear when we moved into 372 McGrath. It was a full circle moment.

I had my first meal at 223 Pearl St in my empty room, on the floor, with Junwon. It felt right, though it probably shouldn't have.

Sam (and Junwon, but mostly Sam) built my very complicated furniture. In the pictures I took of them assembling my furniture, Sam is hunched or huddled over the instruction manual or the furniture parts. The posture reminded me of how Sam had earnestly prayed for me during my last MNP I cried through before I left for NY.

On Thursday, I went to the Symphony July 4th picnic, where I saw Kevin and Grace. Seeing them - my spiritual anchors and my closest friends - felt like I had really, truly returned to Boston.

I met up with Glo on Friday afternoon. When I left Boston, I remember feeling disappointed we wouldn't be able to capitalize on our friendship potential. While catching up, Gloria said, "I didn't expect you to come back." I responded, "I didn't expect you to still be here." We agreed that we were both glad that I was back, she was still here, and that we could hang out more.

Afterwards, Yeojin and I had dinner at home. With Yeojin, I become more extroverted, expressive, and open, probably because she is so introverted and quiet. I decided during our surprisingly lengthy conversation I like her a lot. I like watching her reactions and large doe eyes process things in real time, and I think I'll learn a lot from her.

In true Allison fashion, we (including Alex) grabbed a nice brunch on Saturday. I love them so. They are so amusing (Allison) and cute (Alex). That is all.

Christine graciously cooked me a roasted salad for dinner, which we ate with Alisha. I definitely felt my old(er) age, but it was nice feeling like I was in college again; our conversations were extremely frivolous yet extremely entertaining.

I spent all of Sunday with Esther. After lunch, I cried and sniffled at her in a cafe, where she suddenly slapped an open water bottle in a failed bug assassination attempt, and water splashed everywhere. We laughed so hard (I think I have the most deliriously stupid yet glorious laughs with Esther), and then I cried again when she offered to keep me company for the rest of the day because I was so sad. How lucky am I to have a friend like Esther - "my heart is vibrating with tenderness."

Today, I walked to MNP for old times sake. It took me an hour and twenty minutes. I stopped at the bridge Hanna would always force us to take selfies at, and I took a shy solo selfie in remembrance (idk why I'm acting like someone died). To me, MNPs are like showers: I never feel excited about them but I always feel better afterwards. Kevin led worship again today. Him leading is my favorite not only because the worship is objectively the best but also because it's so comforting. Esther and I got to pray together; "Thank you God that we get to pray together in this moment!"

After we shared and prayed with each other, Esther said, "The way you speak kind of reminds me of Job." She opened up the bible and pointed to "Job Continues: My Life Has No Hope." I just about died laughing. Alas, such are the overdramatized and over-romanticized lives of Enneagram 4s. She is currently at my desk finishing up a discussion post as I write this, and I am reassured again by her presence.

That about sums up my first week back in Boston. It had so many good, sweet moments, but so much sadness too. I miss Duke and my family a lot, which is bittersweet. In some ways, being back in Boston is exactly what I'd imagined, but also nothing like I'd expected it to be, and I feel a lot of grief in that lost hope. But I shall still trek along in hopes and with gingerly-held faith that things will only get better from here. I'm home!

[stories-poetry4all]

She was asked to replace her sister by marrying a disabled man who turned out to be a billionaire

Darkness fell.

The two Rivera sisters were about to get married at the same time.

Wearing a white lace dress, Natalie Rivera looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her makeup was delicate and her eyes shone with happiness.

Today, she was going to marry Rowley O'Brien.

They had been in love for a year now and were finally tying the knot.

"Natalie, you're so lucky. You're marrying into the O'Brien family, an aristocratic family in Bloridge."

Wearing the exact same wedding dress, Alisha Rivera walked in and spoke in a voice dripping with sarcasm.

Seeing how beautiful her sister looked, Alisha was green with envy. How she wished she could scratch Natalie's pretty face!

Natalie's expression hardened. "I also want to congratulate you, Alisha. You're going to be Jarvis Braxton's fourth wife soon. By the way, I heard that he was seriously injured in a car accident recently and that he couldn't walk and was dying in a couple of years. If you marry him, you'll be a widow soon."

"Natalie Rivera!"

Alisha was so angry that her face turned purple. At the thought that she was going to marry a disabled man while Natalie was going to marry into the O'Brien family, she clenched her fists fiercely.

"Natalie, you don't know what the future holds for us. Do you really think that you'll be Mrs. O'Brien forever?"

"Natalie, Alisha, you're here!" Carrying two cups of coffee in her hands, Flora Rivera strode in with a smile. "Have some caffeine in your system first. The grooms' cars are still on the way."

The hypocritical smile on her stepmother's face made Natalie frown. They had lived under the same roof for over a decade. How could she not know what kind of person Flora was?

Natalie took solace in the fact that she would be moving out of the house soon and wouldn't have to see Flora and her daughter anymore, so she took the cup of coffee, albeit hesitantly.

"Thanks." Natalie only took a sip.

"You're welcome, dear." Seeing that Natalie drank some, Flora breathed a sigh of relief. "Although you're not my biological daughter, I've always treated you as my own. I'm sad that you're going to be leaving us."

Flora's eyes welled up with tears as she spoke.

Natalie resisted the urge to roll her eyes. No wonder this woman had won the title of the Best Actress; she truly was talented in acting.

When Natalie was eight years old, her mother passed away. In less than a month, her father brought Flora and Alisha home. Alisha was only one month younger than Natalie.

Only then did Natalie realize that her father had long since betrayed her mother.

"Ma'am, the O'Brien family's car is here," a servant knocked on the door and updated Flora.

"Oh!" Flora grinned. She winked at the servant and ordered, "Elva, take Natalie to the car."

Hearing this, Natalie stood up but suddenly felt a little dizzy. Her vision was blurred, so she could only let the servant lead the way.

A black car was parked at the gate. The servant, Elva, put Natalie in the back seat.

From the balcony, Flora watched as the car pulled away. Her smile deepened.

"Mom, are you sure this is going to work? What if Natalie finds out that something's wrong?" Alisha asked, fidgeting with her dress anxiously.

"Don't worry, my dear. I've taken care of everything. She will take your place and marry into the Braxton family."

It turned out that the black car belonged to the Braxton family, not the O'Brien family.

Alisha was unconvinced. "But how will I deceive Rowley tonight?"

Flora reminded Alisha cautiously, "As long as you have sex with Rowley tonight, the O'Brien family won't be able to do anything about it. Remember, don't let them see your face."

"Okay, Mom." Then, Alisha's expression darkened, her eyes filled with jealousy and hatred. "Mom, I have to make Natalie's life a living hell. Then she'll know the consequences of stealing my man."

Flora sneered coldly. "I doubt that Natalie will survive tonight. Do you know what happened to Jarvis' ex-wives? They all disappeared mysteriously."

……

Sitting in the back seat of the car, Natalie still felt extremely dizzy. Her body temperature kept rising, and her cheeks were burning red.

She thought about the coffee Flora had given her and had a sinking feeling.

Only then did she realize that she had fallen right into Flora's trap.

Flora must've spiked her coffee with a drug.

Looking out the window, Natalie noticed that they weren't headed in the direction of the O'Brien family's residence. She immediately became vigilant and panicked.

"Stop the car! Stop the car right now!" Natalie shouted at the driver anxiously. "Who are you? Where are you taking me?"

Hearing this, the driver looked at her in the rearview mirror with visible confusion. "Miss Rivera, I'm the Braxton family's driver. I was sent to pick up Mr. Braxton's bride."

"What? The Braxton family?"

It suddenly dawned on Natalie.

Flora's plan was to make her replace Alisha and marry Jarvis!

"Stop the car now! I'm going to marry into the O'Brien family! You've made a mistake!"

She didn't want to marry into the Braxton family. She refused to let Flora and Alisha succeed.

But the drug's effect on her body made her feel extremely uncomfortable. Clearly, Flora not only wanted her to marry into the Braxton family but also wanted to destroy her life completely.

"Stop the car now!" Natalie tried her best to stay sober and shouted in a low voice.

"Miss Rivera, we're almost there. What are you doing?"

The driver was shocked when Natalie suddenly opened the door and jumped out of the car.

She rolled on the ground several times before coming to a complete stop. The severe pain sobered her up immediately.

"Miss Rivera, please get back in the car!"

Seeing that the driver pulled over and jumped out to chase after her, Natalie gritted her teeth and limped away, enduring the searing pain.

The pain was what was keeping her mind clear.

Natalie was anxious. She knew the dire consequences if she was caught.

"Miss Rivera, please don't run! Come back with me!"

Hearing the driver's shouts from behind her, Natalie ran even faster. She was so anxious that she almost cried out loud. She didn't want to marry Jarvis.

It was late at night, enveloping the land in darkness. Natalie could tell that the driver was quickly closing the gap between them. Worse yet, the dizziness in her head was almost unbearable.

Natalie was so overcome with desperation that she didn't know where to run. Suddenly, she saw a black car parked not far away. A man in a casual suit was leaning against it, busy talking on the phone.

Just as the man was about to get in the car and leave, Natalie limped over with the last of her strength. She begged, "Help me, please. Help me..."

Stunned, the man looked at Natalie with his deep-set eyes.

At this time, the man on the other end of the line was shouting anxiously, "Your bride is about to arrive. Why aren't you here yet?"

"Shut up!" Without giving the caller a chance to retaliate, the man hung up the phone expressionlessly.

At the same time, the driver ran over. Natalie didn't have the time to think. She opened the door and got in the car. She pressed her palms together and pleaded, "Please help me! I'm begging you!"

The driver approached the car. "Miss Rivera, please come out of the car. We're running very late."

The driver was shocked when he saw the man's face clearly.

Before he could say anything more, the man cast a cold glance at the driver and barked, "Fuck off!"

The discomfort was so unbearable that Natalie felt as though her blood vessels were about to burst.

How cruel Flora was! Natalie had only taken a sip of the coffee yet the drug was already so potent. She hated to think what would've happened if she had drunk more than a sip.

Natalie felt as though her head was going to explode, yet at the same time, she felt a distinct numbness. Moreover, she felt an extremely unquenchable thirst, as though she had been walking in a dry desert for ages.

"Water... I need some water..."

Natalie managed to squeeze out a few more words. Her throat felt so dry and her body so hot that she wanted to drown herself in an ice bath.

"I'm taking you to the hospital right now."

The man knew what was going on with Natalie at a glance.

"Help me! Please! I'll do anything for you..." Natalie suddenly grabbed the man's hand in desperation. He was her last hope amidst this desolate, remote place.

"Just hold on a little longer."

The man frowned coldly. He had never meddled in other people's business. On any other day, he would've thrown her out of the car. However, for some reason, when he saw the desperation in Natalie's eyes, he felt pity for her.

"Thank you..."

Natalie expressed her gratitude sincerely. In fact, it never crossed her mind that the man in front of her would do anything bad to her.

The only thing that was keeping her awake was the sheer will to survive.

Natalie tightened her grip on the man's hand and sobbed pitifully. "I don't want to die!"

The man's eyes narrowed and the corners of his mouth tilted upwards slightly. "You're a lucky woman. You're not dying today."

At this moment, Natalie was like a beautiful stranded mermaid. In a white lace dress, face flushed red, she looked fascinating.

The man stiffened. The helpless woman in the back seat was exceedingly tempting.

His voice suddenly turned hoarse. "My name is Jarvis Braxton. You owe me."

Natalie was swimming in and out of consciousness at that point and the man's words didn't register.

Jarvis slammed his foot on the gas and sped straight to the hospital under Braxton Group. Minutes later, he was handing Natalie over to the doctor.

That night, Natalie had an erotic dream. She dreamt of the fatal night a few years ago.

When she woke up, it was already noon of the next day.

The memories of the previous night flooded into her mind. When she realized where she was, a lump formed in her throat.

While she managed to survive, it was impossible for her to be with her beloved Rowley.

Natalie then noticed that there was a man lying prone on the edge of the bed, asleep. He was a very handsome man, and even she couldn't help but marvel at his dashing appearance.

His features were well-defined like a Greek god's.

Her gaze wandered to his strong arms.

Last night, she was in such a helpless situation, but this man didn't touch her. In fact, he even sent her to the hospital.

Natalie's cheeks flushed immediately.

What on earth was she thinking just now?

Was she hoping something happened?

She must've been out of her mind!

Seeing that the man hadn't woken up yet, Natalie carefully sat up in bed. The slight movement made the man stir.

"Trying to sneak away after I saved you?"

Jarvis stretched his arms lazily and glanced at Natalie with a faint smile.

She had woken him up.

If he had stayed asleep, she would've made a run for it.

"You owe me for last night. Were you going to sneak away just like that?"

"Huh? No, I...I didn't..." Natalie was at a loss for words. It was true that this man had saved her in her darkest hour, and hearing his pointed words, she felt guilty. "Thank you."

"That was my first time. Do you think a simple thank you is enough?" Jarvis looked at Natalie with piteous eyes.

"What first time?"

He made it sound like something had happened between the two of them.

"The first time I meddled in someone else's business."

Hearing this, Natalie secretly sighed in relief. Then, she regained her composure and explained, "My stepmother wanted to marry me to a dying, disabled man. I'd rather die than marry him. Anyway, thank you very much for saving me."

She'd rather die than marry that man?

Seeing the nervous expression on Natalie's face, Jarvis smiled playfully. "Yesterday was supposed to be my wedding day. However, after what happened, I'm afraid I won't be able to marry my bride anymore. You have to compensate me with a new bride."

"What? Oh, God! I'm so sorry. I didn't know you were supposed to get married last night!" Natalie felt terrible. But how could she give him a new bride? Clearly, he was making things difficult for her.

"Forget it. You're so beautiful, and your wedding dress looks really expensive. You wouldn't like a poor man like me." Jarvis's clicked his tongue in disappointment.

When Natalie saw how upset he looked, she suddenly blurted, "It's not what you think."

Jarvis broke into a smile and took her hand. "Then come back with me to meet my parents."

"What? No, not now..." Natalie withdrew her hand awkwardly. "There's something I have to take care of first. I'll leave my phone number with you. We'll get in touch later."

First things first; she had to confront her stepmother now.

"All right." Jarvis nodded and stopped teasing her.

Natalie jotted down her number and left in a hurry. But unbeknownst to her, she had made a mistake and one of the numbers she wrote down was wrong.

Jarvis watched Natalie run off with great interest.

Then he glanced at the necklace she left on the bed and chuckled.

Just then, his rang.

"Jarvis, the bride ran away, and we don't know where she is. As for you, where the hell were you last night? What could be more important than your own wedding?"

"I was with the bride." A rare touch of tenderness softened Jarvis's eyes at the mention of Natalie.

He didn't expect that fate would have his bride run away from the wedding, only to bump into him, the groom.

Jarvis' simple statement shocked Lamont Henderson, the person on the other end of the line.

"Are you joking? I said, your bride ran away. Oh, and let me tell you something: the Rivera family is very bold. The bride you were supposed to marry was Alisha. But they sent over Natalie instead. Alisha has married into the O'Brien family!"

It was easy to figure out what was going on, and Jarvis quickly pieced it together.

Lamont added, "Your grandfather said he'd be waiting for you to deal with this matter."

"Then call off the engagement."

After a slight pause, Jarvis added, "There's no need to make things difficult for the Rivera family."

"What the hell are you talking about? They made a fool of you! Alisha married into the O'Brien family. How can you let this go so easily?"

Lamont was shell-shocked. It wasn't Jarvis' style to let go of those who offended him.

Jarvis should've held a deep grudge against the Rivera family for tricking him and marrying off his original bride.

"Do as I said," Jarvis ordered.

Lamont couldn't help but remind him, "Your three ex-wives are 'dead'. If you call off the engagement this time, those people in the Braxton family will find out something wrong. At that time, all our previous efforts will be wasted."

Jarvis mulled over this for a few seconds. Finally, he said, "I have another plan."

"What?" Confused, Lamont couldn't tell what was going on in Jarvis' head.

Instead of answering his question, Jarvis changed the topic. "Get me a cheap car."

"For what?"

"Chasing my wife."

……

When Natalie arrived at the gate of her home, she found her father, Garrett Rivera, and Flora respectfully sending a middle-aged man off.

This was the man sent by the Braxton family to break off the engagement.

Back then, the Braxton family wanted Garrett's daughter to marry into their family, but now, they suddenly broke off the engagement. The bride had run away, but the Braxton family did not make things difficult for the Rivera family. Garrett was shocked by their leniency.

After the man got in the car and left, Garrett wiped the cold sweat on his forehead. When he saw Natalie, he barked harshly, "Natalie, look what you've done! You still have the audacity to show your face here. If the Braxton family didn't show mercy on us this time, we would've gone bankrupt."

Looking at Garrett, Natalie retorted coldly, "Dad, do you know what happened last night?"

Although Natalie already knew Garrett's answer, she still wanted to ask him point-blank.

She couldn't believe that her own father would hurt her like this.

Hearing Natalie's pointed question, Garrett looked away due to the guilt.

Over the years, he had come to feel intimidated by his eldest daughter.

When he looked into her pair of clear eyes, he remembered Natalie's mother, which made him feel very uncomfortable.

"How dare you talk to me like this? Am I some sort of convict that needs interrogating? I'm your father!"

Natalie sneered. "Dad, you know you're my father yet you let your wife hurt me. You let Flora marry me into the Braxton family!"

Natalie knew that without Garrett's acquiescence, Flora wouldn't have the guts to do such a vicious thing.

Now that it was out in the air, Flora stopped feigning ignorance and snapped, "The Braxton family wanted one of my daughters to marry into their family, but they didn't pick which one specifically. Moreover, in Bloridge, the Braxton family is powerful and influential. You should thank us for choosing such a good marriage for you!"

"Then why didn't you let Alisha marry into the Braxton family?" Natalie's voice took on a dangerous tone.

She had been to the O'Brien family before she came home. They told her that Rowley and Alisha weren't home.

At that moment, Natalie felt as if her whole world had collapsed.

Rowley had abandoned her.

He already knew that he had been tricked and his bride had been replaced. Why didn't he come to her?

"Enough!" Garrett roared. "Alisha's in poor health. If she married into the Braxton family, she'd only suffer. You're her older sister. So what if you took her place and married into the Braxton family?"

Hearing this, Natalie glowered at Garrett, her heart pricked with bitterness. Over the years, she came to realize that Garrett was partial to Alisha. But this time, he had gone too far.

"Mom passed away years ago. It seems you've forgotten that I'm still your daughter. You didn't support my studies and turned a blind eye to the way Flora treated me."

Garrett scolded reproachfully, "Flora's your mother. How dare you disrespect her like that?"

"My mother died a long time ago."

Natalie's eyes were filled with pain and coldness. Ever since Flora and her daughter moved in, Natalie was never allowed to sit at the same table and share meals with them. Every day, she ate leftovers.

After high school, she had to work her way through college, paying for her tuition with part-time jobs.

Her family was rich, yet she lived a life worse than that of an ordinary girl.

Alisha was known as the pampered girl of the Rivera family. She only wore branded clothing, went to high-end clubs, and partied, whereas Natalie wore cheap clothes and commuted to work.

In all of Bloridge, nobody knew that Alisha had a half-sister.

Natalie thought that she could at least marry the one she loved and leave the Rivera family, but little did she know that her stepmother and sister would set her up.

Flora pretended to try to smooth things over, but her words only added fuel to the fire. "Garrett, don't make a fuss about it with Natalie. She's right. I'm not her biological mother, and I know how she feels about me. It's okay. I don't want you and Natalie to quarrel with each other because of me."

"Look, she still defends you, you ungrateful brat!" Garrett was even more disappointed in Natalie. "The Braxton family just came to call off the engagement, so you don't have to marry Jarvis anymore. This matter is settled. You'd better go back to your room and change your clothes. Quit making a fool of yourself here. There are more pressing matters to deal with in the company, so I have to go now."

After saying that, Garrett left without looking back.

Natalie smiled bitterly. Over a decade had passed, but Garrett never cared for her. She didn't bother to waste her breath on him anymore.

As soon as Garrett left, Flora dropped the kind stepmother act and scowled at Natalie. "You bitch, how dare you escape from the wedding? Where the hell have you been? Are you satisfied with my gift?"

Natalie turned to look at her icily. "Flora, you are so despicable. Aren't you scared of karma?"

Hearing this, Flora smiled complacently. "My daughter's the new Mrs. O'Brien. Who do you think you are? You don't deserve to compete with Alisha. Besides, I wonder if Rowley knows that you gave birth to a baby a few years ago. Do you think you can hide it from the O'Brien family forever?"

Natalie's expression darkened. Her deepest secret had been exposed, and Flora was dangling it in front of her smugly.

"Once again, it was you and Alisha who set me up that time."

Indeed, Natalie did give birth to a child five years ago. But the child died after it was born, and she still didn't know who the father of the child was.

She didn't have the courage to tell Rowley about it. It was a nightmare that she wanted to forget.

Flora sneered, "So what? Even if you tell your father, he won't believe you. Natalie, everything in the Rivera family belongs to my daughter, not you. By the way, there's one more thing. The child you gave birth to didn't die. He's grown up to be a very beautiful boy."

"What? Where's my son?" Natalie was caught off-guard. Thinking of the baby she carried for nine months, her heart ached.

"You'd like to know, wouldn't you?" Flora grinned viciously. "Kneel and beg me. Then I'll tell you."

"Flora Rivera!" Natalie hissed through gritted teeth, "One day, you'll pay for everything you've done."

……

In La Lune Bar, Natalie drank glass after glass of wine on an empty stomach. She didn't know how much she had drunk by the time her head started to spin.

Thinking about how her happiness had been stolen away by Flora and her daughter and how Rowley had abandoned her, she felt hopeless.

"Natalie, that's enough." Brinley Lauren snatched the half-empty glass of wine from Natalie. Seeing the sadness on Natalie's face, she felt sorry for her friend. "Only your stepmother and half-sister can do such a terrible thing. Well, at least you were able to escape the Braxton family."

Jarvis Braxton was a mysterious man and very few people had seen his face. There were all kinds of rumors about him in the city.

"Brinley, I feel so sad. My father ignores me and lets Flora and Alisha trample all over me."

How could Natalie not feel sad? To be abandoned and hurt by one's own family was a terrible thing.

Worse still, she hadn't been able to get through to Rowley yet.

"Rowley also abandoned me, Brinley. I have nothing." The sadness was too much to bear. Tears rolled down Natalie's cheeks.

"Don't say that, Natalie. You still have me. Come on now. Don't cry." Brinley rubbed Natalie's back in an effort to comfort her. "Rowley's a bastard. There's plenty of fish in the sea. I can find you a better man—a good man who's rich, handsome, and single..."

A good man...

All of a sudden, the man from last night came to Natalie's mind. Memories of last night flooded her brain, and her cheeks turned red.

But why did she think about that man all of a sudden?

"I'll find you someone right now. I just need to make a call. Wait for me here." Then, Brinley rushed outside to make a phone call.

Having drunk too much, Natalie lay prone over the table, reaching slowly for the wine. Suddenly, she saw a familiar figure in the distance.

It was Rowley.

She immediately sobered up and stumbled to catch up with him.

"Rowley! Wait up, Rowley!" Natalie called out.

She needed an explanation.

What was Rowley doing here?

Why didn't he try to look for her?

At the entrance of the bar, Natalie stopped Rowley. Still a little tipsy from all the alcohol, she anxiously rambled about what had happened last night. "Flora and Alisha set me up. Come with me. Let's explain everything to your parents so that we can fix this and get married."

Looking at Natalie, Rowley said expressionlessly, "It's too late."

Natalie's blood ran cold. Wondering if she had misheard, she asked slowly, "What do you mean, Rowley? What's going on?"

Natalie had a sinking feeling that something bad happened. Flora must've prepared something in advance since she dared plot against her boldly.

Otherwise, Rowley would've come to her as soon as he found out that Alisha was his bride.

Rowley carefully looked around as if he was checking to see if anyone was watching them. Then he pulled Natalie to an isolated and quiet corner.

"Natalie, listen to me." Rowley wrapped his arms around Natalie. "I heard that you were sent to the Braxton family instead of Alisha. I've been worried about you all night. Are you okay?"

The memories from last night came flooding into her mind once more. "Rowley, I'm fine, but..."

Natalie bit her lip. She knew that Rowley would find out about her secrets sooner or later.

She was about to explain herself when Rowley suddenly interrupted her. "That's good. I'm sorry. After I straighten out the matter of my inheritance and take full control of the O'Brien family, I'll marry you. I promise."

"What do you mean?" Natalie felt both stunned and confused.

"Natalie, when I found out that the bride wasn't you, it was too late." Rowley lowered his head guiltily. "And then Alisha promised to help me become the heir of the O'Brien family. Don't worry. As long as my family issues are resolved, I'll divorce Alisha and marry you."

At that moment, Natalie felt that the man in front of her was a total stranger.

She was not a fool and didn't buy a word he said.

Rowley was an illegitimate son and had no right to compete for the position of heir.

It turned out that Alisha had convinced Rowley that she could help him seize the control over his family.

Natalie didn't know why Rowley was sure that Alisha could help him, nor did she want to think about it. Looking at Rowley's face, she felt as if he might as well have stabbed her in the heart with a knife.

"Is this the reason why you abandoned me? So that you can become an heir?"

"Natalie, I didn't abandon you. I just want to give you the best things in life in the future. I do love you, but you can't help me now. Alisha can help me." Rowley grasped Natalie's shoulders. "Give me one year—no, half a year. I'll marry you then."

Every word stabbed at Natalie's heart. This was the man she had loved for a year, but now, he was abandoning her for power and wealth.

"No, Rowley. It was stupid of me to fall in love with you," Natalie said coldly, shrugging off Rowley's hands.

Even though Natalie had already mentally prepared herself for this moment, she still felt empty inside when she found out that the reason why she was abandoned was that she could not help him.

"Natalie..." Rowley wanted to comfort Natalie, but when he saw Alisha approaching, he quickly distanced himself from Natalie and changed his attitude drastically. "Natalie, why are you so shameless? How dare you seduce your sister's husband?"

Hearing that, Natalie was stunned. Then she saw Alisha and understood what was happening.

She sneered and laughed at herself bitterly.

How blind she was!

"Rowley, there you are!" Alisha walked over with her head held high. She linked arms with Rowley naturally, provoking Natalie on purpose. "Natalie, you're here, too. Eww, you reek of alcohol. Why do you drink so much?"

Natalie didn't even look at Alisha. Her eyes were trained on Rowley, full of disappointment.

Rowley didn't dare to look at Natalie and turned his face away.

Natalie sneered, "Rowley, I hope you get what you want."

This simple statement was like a slap in Rowley's face.

"Enough, Natalie. Quit making a scene here!" Rowley concealed his shame with anger. "I'm glad I didn't marry you, or I'd have regretted it! How could I marry an alcoholic? Please remember that Alisha's my wife now. Know your place."

After saying that, Rowley turned around and stormed off.

Natalie watched him leave, her eyes welling up with tears.

Seeing the helpless look on Natalie's face, Alisha smiled complacently. "How dare you try to steal my man? You don't deserve him. You're perfect for that disabled, ugly, dying man from the Braxton family. It's a pity you didn't marry him in the end."

"Alisha Rivera." Natalie gritted her teeth. "How are you so arrogant in front of me? I'm the legitimate daughter. Your mother's just a mistress, and it seems you've followed in her footsteps. Oh, and Rowley's also an illegitimate son. You're right. I don't deserve him. But you two are a perfect match!"

In the past, even if Natalie was seething with rage, she never would've said such harsh words.

Alisha was so angry that her face turned purple. "Natalie, what the hell are you talking about? Your mother's the mistress! Dad fell in love with my mom first, and it was your mother who took him away from her. Both you and your mother are bitches, and you're nothing but a slut who tried to steal my man."

As if her insults weren't enough, Alisha raised her hand to hit Natalie.

At this point, Natalie had nothing to lose. She had already suffered injustice and abuse in the Rivera family for over a decade. And now, she was set up by Flora and Alisha. She could no longer hold back her anger.

Natalie rolled up her sleeves and gritted her teeth, ready to fight back.

Unbeknownst to the two girls, there was a man in a car parked nearby who saw everything that had happened.

Looking at Natalie, who was winning the fight, Jarvis smiled.

……

Natalie landed blow after blow. She was good at fighting, and Alisha was no match for her.

When Natalie was finally satisfied, she stood up, leaving Alisha sprawled on the ground. She sneered, "I doubt you'll be Rowley's wife forever. He doesn't take you seriously. Let's see how long you can hold on to the man you stole from me."

Alisha's face was beaten black and blue. Her hair was all messed up, and her clothed were torn and muddied.

Natalie, on the other hand, was unharmed and clean.

Eyes wide as saucers, the crazed Alisha went mad and shouted angrily, "Natalie, you're fucking crazy! I'll make you pay for this!"

"I'd like to see you try." Natalie patted the imaginary dirt off her clothes and smoothed her hair.

Her resentment towards Alisha had only grown over the past years. This matter only served to deepen her hatred.

And beating Alisha to a pulp made Natalie feel much better.

The scheme between Flora and Alisha wasn't the most painful thing she had experienced.

What happened last night was terrible, yes, but it didn't make her that angry. What hurt her the most was seeing Rowley's true colors.

The man she had wanted to marry was now her brother-in-law. He abandoned her for power, exposing his true self.

In Rowley's eyes, their love, which she cherished, was disposable.

Drunk and dizzy, Natalie sat on the ground while waiting for a taxi.

After a while, a car stopped beside her.

Natalie's reasoning was impaired by the alcohol. She thought the car was a taxi, so she got in without thinking and told the driver her destination.

After that, Natalie lay down in the back seat and passed out.

Jarvis took one look at Natalie. His deep-set eyes were filled with affection.

Along the way, Natalie muttered, "Stop the car. I'm going to throw up."

Jarvis quickly found a place to pull over and was about to help her get out of the car. However, she suddenly stared at him with watery eyes, muttering, "Men are trash."

Jarvis was speechless.

Seeing that she was drunk, Jarvis was about to say something, but she suddenly vomited—right in front of him.

His shirt was instantly soiled.

Jarvis, who was a neat freak, pulled a long face.

By the time Natalie woke up again, the sun had already risen.

It turned out she had slept in the back seat of a car.

Natalie sat up and found a man sleeping in the driver's seat. He was the man who saved her on her wedding day.

The man was sleeping soundly. But for some reason, he was shirtless.

What on earth happened last night?

Natalie winced and pressed her fingers against her temples. She had a splitting headache and barely any recollection of what had happened the previous night.

She got out of the car and found that there was no one around. It was very quiet. She found a boulder to sit on and stared blankly into space.

Even if Alisha and Flora hadn't set her up, Natalie knew that her marriage to Rowley wouldn't have lasted long.

She knew nothing about Rowley's ambition until last night. The man she thought she knew wasn't willing to be pegged a bastard all his life.

If Rowley found out that she had borne a child years ago, he would've been even harsher with her.

There was a bit of a silver lining to all this. Now that she knew Rowley's true colors, she felt relieved.

She no longer had to worry about her secrets being found out by him.

She didn't have to feel guilty anymore.

Still, she felt a little sad knowing that her father didn't give a damn about her. And she also mourned the sweet relationship she had with Rowley in the past year.

By now, Jarvis had already woken up. He got out of the car with two bottles of water and walked over.

"Drink some water. You cried so badly last night, I'm worried you'll get dehydrated."

Jarvis' sincere words made Natalie flush shyly.

Last night, after throwing up, Natalie had cried bitterly.

But Natalie was too drunk to remember anything about that.

Natalie took a deep breath to calm herself down. "How'd I end up in your car?"

As soon as she opened her mouth and spoke in a hoarse voice, she found that her throat was extremely dry.

Jarvis raised his eyebrows slightly. "I happened to pass by you last night. You got in my car all of a sudden. And..."

Before he could finish his sentence, Natalie interrupted him. "Oh, stop it, please. I drank too much last night. I'll take responsibility for what happened between us."

Hearing this, Jarvis frowned in confusion. He was pondering over what Natalie just said when he noticed her flushed cheeks. Then he glanced down at his half-nakedness and immediately understood that she thought that something happened between them last night.

The truth was that Natalie had vomited all over his shirt, so he had to throw it away.

But Jarvis decided to take advantage of this little misunderstanding. A playful smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "I tried to call you, but the number you gave me didn't exist. I know I'm just a poor man, but why'd you have to be so cruel? If you didn't want to see me, you could've just told me."

He sounded disappointed and pitiful again, just like the time they first met.

For some reason, Natalie found herself wanting to comfort this man.

"No, no, it's not what you think. The phone number I gave you is real!" After rambling a bit, Natalie took a deep breath, as if she had made up her mind. "I'm Natalie Rivera. What's your name?"

The situation was quite bizarre. She had known this man for less than two days, yet she had woken up next to him twice now. And she still didn't know his name.

Jarvis smiled. "I'm Jarvis Braxton, 30 years old. I don't have much money. I'm a Uber driver and a delivery man. I'm healthy and pretty decent at sex. You can—"

He was going to tell Natalie that she would see it for herself in the future, but thinking about how she thought that they had already slept together, he changed courses. "You experienced it firsthand last night."

His words confirmed that something indeed happened between them last night.

"Ahem!" Hearing that last part, Natalie coughed awkwardly.

Jarvis Braxton?

Why did that name sound so familiar?

The man she almost married was also named Jarvis Braxton!

However, that Jarvis Braxton was supposedly disabled, disfigured, and dying. The man in front of her was handsome, healthy, and very much alive. And it seemed he was just an ordinary poor man.

Perhaps he just happened to have the exact same name as the man she was supposed to marry.

Jarvis observed the expression on Natalie's face and added, "I have no siblings. I was supposed to get married, but on my wedding day, I was late because of you. Now, the woman called off the engagement. So I'm single now."

Jarvis' eyes seemed sincere enough.

Natalie eyed Jarvis quietly for a moment. Then, she blurted out, "Do you want to be my boyfriend?"

Hearing her question, Jarvis was stunned. Then, he broke into a smile and shook his head. "No, I don't want to be your boyfriend."

Being refused, Natalie felt somewhat embarrassed. When she was about to say something more, Jarvis added, "I want to be your husband."

Natalie's jaw dropped in shock. "This is all happening too fast!"

She wanted to take things slowly. Since they had slept together, maybe they could try to date.

If they weren't right for each other, they could always just break up.

Since Rowley was with Alisha now, it was time for her to move on.

And if she was being honest with herself, she wanted to make Rowley and Alisha seethe with anger, and getting a new boyfriend would do just that.

Seeing the shock on Natalie's face, Jarvis was worried that he might scare her away, so he compromised.

"Just kidding. I'll be your boyfriend first." Jarvis smiled gently. "We just met. We should get to know each other more."

Natalie tilted her head to the side and asked curiously, "Your fiancee just called off the wedding. Are your parents angry or something? Do you need any help from me?"

"Oh, they're devastated. They went on a trip yesterday to de-stress, so we can't contact them for the time being." Jarvis lied through his teeth with ease. "I'll take you to see them when they come back."

Natalie decided not to give it too much thought. There were more pressing matters at hand: her stomach was grumbling.

Jarvis smiled and held Natalie's hand naturally. "Let's go and find something to eat."

Jarvis's affection stunned Natalie.

She blushed again when she saw their clasped hands.

His palm was very warm, and the touch of his skin made her feel strange.

She felt that she was really out of her mind. She had met this man only twice, but now they were in a relationship.

But when she thought of the disgusting faces of Rowley and Alisha, the guilt and shame in her heart were dispelled.

Jarvis had been observing Natalie's reaction. He found himself smiling whenever he looked at her.

Jarvis promptly took Natalie to a nearby restaurant. It wasn't very high-end, but clean and quiet.

"What do you want? Order whatever you like." Jarvis handed the menu to Natalie like a gentleman.

Taking a look at the menu, Natalie found that it was not expensive. She ordered her food and then gave Jarvis the menu.

Frowning, Jarvis said, "Order some more."

"No, thanks. It's enough for me. Please order the food you like," Natalie refused. "And I know how hard it is to make money. We can't afford to waste it."

Was his new girlfriend saving him money?

Jarvis's brows relaxed and he broke into a smile. "Okay, sounds good."

Suddenly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a bank card. "Here you go. It's not too much, just tens of thousands dollars. The password is the last six figures of the bank card numbers."

"Why're you giving this to me?" Natalie was confused.

"From now on, you'll be in charge of my money. My salary is not much. But I'll work harder to earn more money to provide for you."

Natalie was shocked. They had known each other for two days, yet he was already giving her all his money.

"No, no. You take it. I have a job. I don't need your money." Natalie shook her head profusely.

"You're my girlfriend now. It's normal for you to manage your partner's money." Jarvis pushed the bank card into Natalie's palm. "Isn't this the sense of security women want?"

Once again, Natalie was stunned. Was Jarvis trying to make her feel secure?

It was said that a woman who held the purse strings was the one who could control a man.

And Natalie couldn't deny the fact that she did feel a sense of security the moment she held the bank card in her hand.

This man might not be very rich, but he was very sincere.

Natalie had never dreamed of marrying into a rich family. What she wanted was a simple and fulfilling life.

She thought that Rowley could give it to her, but she didn't expect that he was too ambitious. He made it clear that he wasn't willing to live a peaceful and quiet life with her and wanted to fight for his right to the inheritance.

"Well, then I'll take good care of it. Tell me when you need money, okay?" Natalie didn't refuse him anymore.

"Okay!" Jarvis's grin widened. "Just give me some pocket money every month."

Just then, the food was served. Natalie was so hungry that she began to wolf down her food.

Jarvis, on the other hand, didn't eat much and kept putting more food onto Natalie's plate.

The two ate in the roadside restaurant like an ordinary couple. This scene came as a shock to Lamont, who happened to be passing by.

Was he imagining things?

The head of the Braxton family was dining with a woman at an ordinary restaurant?

[shadeedee]

Growing pains part 3

“Shepard Quaid is a pervert!” Alisha yelled. SQ would get mocked and ridiculed whenever he walked the institute halls. He hid in the restroom and cried. When he came out, a group of students grabbed him and began bashing him, calling him a creep and other terrible names. He lay on the floor, groaning in pain. Curtain was enraged to hear about this type of incident at his institution. He called a whole school meeting about it. “Right, i want to know who the culprits are behind this disgraceful act! Nobody leaves this hall until i find out!” he shouted. The students looked at each other. Four boys nervously stood up. Curtain glared at them. “I have no choice but to expel the four of you. Pack your things and leave this building immediately!” he yelled. The boys were all brain swept before leaving, and were sent away on a boat to an unknown location. Curtain looked at the other students. “Right, obviously this sickening attack has got something to do with the incident in class yesterday afternoon. Involving two of my pupils. One of them being my son. Well let me tell you, i will not tolerate any bullying or acts of violence in my institution! What happened yesterday afternoon is no excuse for what happened today in the boys restroom! I am absolutely appalled and disgusted! Whoever engages in the same violence displayed today, will also be expelled! Do i make myself clear!?” he shouted, his eyes blazing with rage. “Yes Dr Curtain,” they all said. “Good. Now return to your classes!” he yelled. Alisha began to feel sorry for SQ. She had no idea things would go this far. SQ was in the sick bay, recovering. Alisha came in. “Oh SQ. I’m so sorry. I never wanted you to get hurt. Don’t worry. The boys have been expelled. And i know you never meant what you did in class yesterday. I mean, i get urges too. It’s normal. I guess i just overreacted. I’m sorry I embarrassed you and called you a pervert,” she said. SQ smiled. “It’s okay,” he said, and held her hand. Alisha closed the curtain and there, on the bed, the two of them began touching each other and kissing. Curtain entered the room, wanting to check on SQ, but was horrified by what he walked into. “Oh my god!” he cried. Alisha squealed. “Dr Curtain!” SQ quickly covered himself. “Oh my god dad!” he cried. Curtain was enraged. “Miss Jones, get back to class immediately! And SQ! My office! Now!” he shouted. That was it. SQ had broken the public affection rule. Now he was in deep trouble. He knew it. He bowed his head sadly and walked to his father’s office. “Dr Curtain you can’t do this! I love him!” Alisha wept. Curtain entered the office, slamming the door behind him. “SQ, what have i told you about public affection at this institute!? You have deliberately disobeyed me! How dare you! I forbid you to keep seeing that girl!” he shouted. SQ was fed up. He glared at his father. “You know what? I’ve had it, dad! The only reason you can’t stand it when others are in love is because you’re still wrapped up in your own past and you want to control everyone! You have to destroy everyone’s happiness just so you can get what you want! You’re just pissed off because Uncle Nick didn’t come back for you so you’re angry and bitter and you take it out on everyone! Well i’ve had it, dad! I love Alisha and we’re going to be together! You can’t stop us!” SQ shouted, and he took a deep breath. Curtain was in shock. He fell silent. He pictured himself at 12 years old watching his brother being driven away by his adoptive family, and waving goodbye. He sat at his desk and burst into tears. SQ’s eyes widened. He had done it. He had finally stood up to his father. It felt good, right? Wrong. It didn’t. He felt the opposite. He saw his father crying and felt bad for him. Curtain looked up at him, his eyes full of tears. SQ backed away not knowing how to respond, and ran out of the room. He ran all the way down the hallway, and hid behind a wall. He couldn’t believe what he had just done. He didn’t think he could face his father, again. Part 4 next!

[p---ink]

Teach Me.

Author’s Note: So. I finally made a Peter Parker Fiction. And I know the gif is Arvin Russell, but that is for a reason, and maybe you'll see it, maybe you won't, BUT TELL ME IF YOU DO. So this is an unnamed OC fiction, but its mostly reader insert, aside from the fact that she’s black (surprise, surprise) and she has brown eyes. I made her an “OC” because of that fact. Also, get ready for some fluffy head cannons of Peter P. In the not-so-distant future though. 

Summary: Maybe Peter Parker, isn't as innocent as he seems. 

Warnings: Smut. Smut. and more Smut. Car-smut. Dark-ish Peter (Not really, but he’s not his usual wholesome self) 

Song: Star-gazing by The Neighborhood. I literally based this entire fiction on this one song. Even if you don’t read the fic, you should listen to it. 

Word Count: 5.5k

“If you don’t mind me asking,” She started, pausing a bit to give him time to look up at her, “ who brings a textbook to a frat party?”

His heart stopped for a moment when he realized who was speaking to him. But then he matched her grin shyly and replied, “It’s more of a conversation starter than anything.” 

“Would you say its been working well?”

“I did somehow manage to get someone as pretty as you to speak to me.” 

The smile that was already plastered on her face, grew wider along with her eyes and brows. “Wow Parker: Who knew you could be so bold after a few drinks?

“I’ve only had one, so the rest is all me.” He closed his book and readjusted his leg inviting her to sit. Then as if just realizing, he asked, “You know who I am?”

“Of course I know who you are. We went to Midtown together.” She said, getting comfortable on the couch. 

“Yeah I know. But we barely spoke to each other. Sometimes I wondered if you even knew I existed.”

“I always kept tabs on cuties like you. Especially you, actually.” She declared. 

“And you call me bold.” He muttered under his breath, a small blush creeping up.

“I’m always like this. Anyone who knows me, can tell you that. But anyone who knows you, would say the opposite. You were always so good.” 

“Good?”

“Yes! Good. Innocent. Nice. Whatever floats your boat.”

“And I remember you being, bossy, assertive, and intimidating.”

She threw her head back in laughter before stating,“You say that like its a bad thing.” Coming down from her fits of giggles she adds, “You noticed me, too? Never thought I was on your radar.”

“How could anyone not notice you.” He asked. “We had English together our freshman year. First day of class, you challenged Mr. Frechowsky, for inflicting his political views on the rest of the class. He got so red in the face, after yelling at you for three minutes straight, but everyone was more shocked at you for being unfazed.”

“I forgot abou-”

“Sophomore year, you “accidentally” tripped Amy Shuemacker,  after she made a rude comment about Ned’s weight. Junior year, you announced that you wanted to be not only the first female president, but the first who was black too. I remember telling myself you’d have my vote. Senior year, you almost had a mental breakdown when it looked like Michelle Obama was gonna run.” Peter finished, with not a hint that he was out of breath. 

“I-” She was more than taken aback. “I’m embarrassed that you remember all of that. Its been like four years since we graduated. Frankly any other person would have forgotten.”

“I think its impossible for anyone who’s met you, to forget the day they did.” He admitted to her. 

She just stared at him in awe for a moment. Mouth slightly agape from surprise. A shadow of a smile ever so present. 

Even though he was the one to say it, it was his face that turned a tinge pinker than before when he realized the weight behind his words. He swallowed thickly, averting his attention to the patterns that lined the carpet, fearing that he made her uncomfortable. In all honesty, he used to have a proper crush on the girl, rivaled by even Romeo’s adoration for Juliet.

This was the same girl he once described as ethereal. He once told Ned that fairies wove the strands of her hair, and butterflies still lived there, claiming that he saw them playing beneath her braids. The sun literally lived under her skin, and it was the secret as to why it would glow, and why her smile was so bright. He would swear to anyone that listened, that the harp was made with her voice in mind, and that it, her voice, played a better melody. He used to be lovestruck. Guess those feelings still lingered. 

If you asked him, two minutes ago had he gotten over it, his answer would’ve been yes. Would’ve been. 

His sudden fluster—which she found adorable by the way, broke her from her trance as she grinned and said “Don’t act bashful now!” playfully shoving his arm as she uttered the words. 

Quickly recovering from his earlier hiccup, he slowly returned her grin and tried to retaliate but before he could, “We have to go. Now.”

They looked up to see an irritated looking preppy girl impatiently scowling down at them. She couldn’t have been much older than 21, but no one told that to her clothes and aura. Her olive skin couldn’t hide the frown lines that had been assigned to her, nor the bags that would put a raccoon to shame. Besides the current circumstances that she would tell them in the next minute, Peter could tell on his own that the girl needed a date with sleep. 

“What’s the matter Li? Is everything okay?”

“Yes, aside from the fact that Angie locked herself out of the apartment again.” She said sarcastically, muttering this last part under her breath “I swear I’ve had it with that girl.”

“Ah I see. Well then we better get going.” The girl affirmed, standing from her seat, making Peter rise from his. “Peter it was so nice seeing you. I hate to leave, I would’ve enjoyed catching up a bit more.” She said, turning to grab her coat. 

“Well then we should catch up soon.”

She turned to nod her head, seemingly interested in his suggestion. “I’d love that. When did you have in mind?”

“How about now? if its a ride you’re looking for, I can drive you home.” Peter’s inner sixteen year old self, screamed at this opportunity. Time alone, with his four-year crush? He couldn’t not take advantage of the moment. 

“I couldn’t ask you to do that. It’s all the way on the other side of town.” She informed him. 

“But you’re not asking me to do it. I’m offering, because, ‘ya know; I haven’t seen you in a while and I’d like to catch up, too.” He said, second-guessing himself and praying that he didn’t come on too strong. “Ya know. Only if you want to.” He added just in case. 

Taking too much time debating whether or not she should say yes, the girl’s friend did it for her.  “Sounds great! I’ll see you at home.” Spinning on her heels,  and walking out of the door.

“Well.” The girl started, smiling at her old schoolmate. “I guess that settles it.”

“Shit!” He cursed, killing the engine completely, and slamming his head back on the headrest. After a couple minutes of trying to get it to start, the boy gave up like his car did.

It had been a full three hours since  Alisha left the party. The time was spent competing about who could find out more about the other. He learned that she still had a thirst for changing the world and community around her. She learned that the boy had been bitten by a radioactive spider and was now New York’s most friendly vigilante. She never knew that Peter could be so hilarious. 

They were stranded on some back road, miles away from civilization, with rain coming down on the roof of the car like they owed it money.

“Peter, what did you expect?” She began to question, giggling as she spoke. “This car is so old, Fred Flintstone has a newer model.”

“Hey!” He cried, “Don’t badmouth Karen. She just needs a little work.”

“You mean a lot of work. Karen is ancient.”

“She’s been good to me.”

“Should I call Triple A?” She asked, ignoring his dramatics. “The rain will probably let up by the time they get here.”

“I’ve got this.” He sighed, readying himself to leave the car. “Besides, triple A doesn’t know Karen like I do. They won’t be able to give her the love and patience she deserves” He explained, the car’s rickety door sounding as he disappeared into the rain. 

She heard that same distinct sound not ten seconds later, as he reappeared, soaking wet from the rain’s onslaught. His white t-shirt clung to his body, while beads of water raced down his skin. His messy locks, traded their dark brown hue for a jet black one, and his dirty converses shone a little brighter than they did before he left the car. 

“Maybe that wasn’t the best idea.” He admitted, the leather making a squelching noise as he glued himself back to his previous seat. 

“The offer for triple A still stands.”

“No. I’ll let this play out. But maybe I can call you an Uber.”

“There’s no way I’m leaving you out here all alone. We’ll let this play out.”

“But this may take a while.”

“I’m the reason you’re out here in the first place. And I like your company, so i’ll stay.”

Peter knew he couldn’t argue with that one, so he let silence befall the two of them. It stayed like that for a moment. It wasn’t quite awkward, but it was definitely palpable. 

She thought to say something, he did the same, but neither could quite let their words come to life. It was unlike the girl he knew before, who said the first thing that came to mind. Unlike himself, who did the same, but in a less graceful way. 

Finally, after what felt like hours of deafening quiet, Peter begins with, “How long have you and Brad been a thing?” The question fresh on his mind, since her phone rang yet again, with his ugly mug lighting up the screen. It was the fourth time she ignored the notification. 

It was rare for Peter to hate a person. In fact he didn’t hate many at all. But there was something about Brad that always made his stomach clench. Didn’t help that he was sniffing around his girl. 

“Hmm.” She pondered, tapping her chin with her index finger. Acting as if she was carefully thinking about it.“For about for-never and a day” She finally answered.

“Oh I thought, that since—“ Peter stammered, growing embarrassed by his assumption, and the disdain that coated his words.

“Anyone would have, with him blowing my phone up.” She sighed. “But alas, nothing will ever come of us. No matter how much he wants it to. Wish he’d take a hint.”

Back to silence. But this time it didn’t consume Peter. It gave him a bit of hope, enough hope to ask her his next question. 

“Back at the party,” he started before pausing, which prompted her to question, yes, before he could properly collect his nerve to ask her what he wanted. 

“Back at the party, you mentioned you always kept tabs on me. Especially me. What did you mean by that?”

“I may have had a small crush on you.” She answered without missing a beat. This of course took him by surprise, but not for long. 

“Why did you never act on it?”

“Because I quickly realized you weren’t my type.” She said as if it was nothing in the world.

“Ouch. What did I do to make you realize that?” Peter asked. Though his tone was light-hearted, he tried not to let on that he was hurt. 

“Nothing.” She replied. “You were just yourself. Peter Parker, the innocent good boy who would never harm a fly.”

Peter thought to himself for a moment. He thought long and hard before he decided to bring up the word she had uttered more than once tonight. “There goes that word again: innocent. What makes you think I’m innocent?”

“Come on Parker. Ned told me you once donated a one hundred dollar bill you found lying on the sidewalk to the local homeless shelter. And that was after you couldn’t find its original owner. That’s got innocence written all over it.”

“Does that make me innocent or a good person?”

“They’re one and the same.”

“There is a big difference between the two.”

“I disagree. The two are definitely interchangeable. Good people are the ones who haven’t been corrupted yet.”

“So does that mean you aren’t a good person?”

“I think I’m a neutral person. Not exactly good, not exactly bad. Just walking the tightrope. I probably would have taken the money, and felt bad about it later.”

They both chuckled at her statement, letting it end that segment of the conversation. Though Peter was done fighting with her about her type’s moral compass, he wasn’t done with the subject all together.

“So,” He paused, and she braced herself, taking notice of how every time he did that, a question she was reluctant to answer followed. “what exactly is your type?”

An uncomfortable breathy laugh passed through her lips as she answered. “I didn’t exactly know it at the time, but I’m able to put it into words now.” She admitted, taking her time as she explained. 

“I guess ideally you were my type. Nice. Harmless. Smart. But I was also looking for someone who knew how to take control. I’m in control of everything in my life, so it feels good to meet a person who lets me relinquish that. Or in more crude terms, a person who has the ability to fuck my brains out.” She declared as she leered in his direction with a small smirk playing her lips. 

She was only teasing. But she could feel that the air had grown thick on the side of the car that Peter had resided in. For a split second, she could have sworn that she saw something snap in him. But as quickly as it appeared, it vanished, making her feel as though she had imagined the entire thing. 

But she knew that couldn’t have been right. Known for many things, her vivid imagination wasn’t one of them. His breath hitched. His shoulders tensed. She hadn’t imagined that. What he said next, after what felt like an hour of silence told her that she didn’t imagine anything at all. 

“Did teaching me, ever cross your mind?” He asked. His grip on the steering wheel, turning his knuckles white. She saw his Adam’s apple bob after he spoke, and his chestnut eyes focused on the rain that splattered against the windshield. 

“U-um I-,” She stammered, Peter catching her by surprise. She had to really think about his question. “I suppose it never did.”

“You still want me?” He asked her, turning his attention back on her. 

“Huh?”

“Am I still your type? Aside from the fact that I can’t take control?” 

She just swallows, before nodding.

Noting her surprise, but not relenting he says, “Then teach me.”

“What?” She questions, fearing she misheard him. 

“Teach me.” He repeated, only elaborating when she scrutinized his face. “Show me exactly how you want to be touched. Kissed. Fucked.”

The way he said the word, fuck, was so filthy. It almost made her lose the rest of her composure. Not like she had much left. He had already rendered her speechless, now he was ruining her panties.

No. She wouldn’t let it play out like this. She had a reputation to uphold.

She peered over her shoulder, then back to him trying to assess whether or not he was serious. When his face showed no sign of amusement, she swung her door open, to trade her passenger’s seat for the back one. 

The rain’s onslaught was still vicious, so her previously dry form was borderline drenched. July’s summer heat, did no favors in keeping her warm, and she had no idea if she was shivering from the rain or her nerves. “Are you gonna come keep me warm or what?” She challenged, trying to find her confidence again.  

It was only seconds before Peter joined her, but it was no question that his body was shaking with anticipation. He looked at her expectantly, surveying her every move. From the way her eyes flitted to the ground, to the way her hands busied themselves by rubbing at her thighs. She was nervous. 

It must have been a snowy day in hell.

“What should we do first?” She asked. 

“Does the instructor usually ask the pupil what lessons they should start with?”

“Kiss me?” She suggested, half-ignoring his comment. 

“Are you asking me, or telling me?” Peter remarked, amusement glinting in his eyes. 

Annoyance overtaking her tone now, she demands this time, “Kiss me.” 

“Say please.” He teased. 

“Damn it Peter, fucking kiss m—”

And then he glued his lips to hers. They were sweet and gentle, like him, but still managed to convey his longing. He hoped the kiss would capture all the times he imagined doing it when she would flash those pretty brown eyes his way. When she would speak in a way that put an angel’s timbre to shame. Even when she would fucking breathe, he imagined kissing her until his lips fell off. He hoped the kiss would make up for all of the ones he was dying to share with her over the years.

The pads of his fingers roamed over her silky smooth skin, starting at her cheeks, ending at her neckline. He tasted the flavor of her strawberry chapstick, the same one that made her lips feel and look as smooth as butter. When he inhaled and tasted the faint scent of minty watermelon on her breath, he decided he couldn’t get enough. He wanted to kiss her until he committed to memory every bump on her tongue. Then he would be satisfied. 

“Like this?” He whispered, pulling back to inhale the same air as her, almost turning feral at the sight of her swollen lips and blown pupils. “Or,” he started, leaning back in to go again, searching her eyes, “like this?”

Whereas kiss one was innocent and sweet, the way that Peter portrays himself, kiss two was the definition of what he could be…or maybe what he already was, she couldn’t tell. He was filthy with the way his tongue glided against hers. The hot wet muscle played hers like an instrument, before locking the two together. One of his hands planted itself on the nape of her neck, forcing her to feel every measure against her mouth. She couldn’t move if she wanted to, not that she wanted to. Just like him she wanted to relish the taste of him. 

With his nose pressed against her cheek, and hers against his, they kissed like they wanted to touch the other’s souls. They began breathing in the rest of the other’s air, like they wanted to swap lungs. Exploring the other’s bodies, like they would die if they didn’t study the exact texture of the other’s skin. 

It took everything in Peter to restrain himself. To keep his thumbs from traveling beneath her shirt. He nipped at his tongue to keep from nipping at her lips and skin. He tried shifting in his seat to distract himself from the shifting going on in his jeans. 

It certainly didn’t help the growing tent in his pants when the girl planted her thighs on either side of his, rocking and rolling her hips to alleviate some of the tension in her panties. 

She took over the kiss, setting the pace and overcoming the surprise from Peter earlier.

Her fingers, that were previously glued to his face, began fumbling with the hem of his shirt, peeling the wet material off and over his head. She marveled at his sculpted chest for a moment, before Peter followed suit, pulling her dampened top over her arms and flinging it over the seat. 

A throaty groan passed his lips when she resumed her measures against his hips. Grinding herself down on his hardening member. 

Her breathy whimpers intensified when his surprisingly warm hands traveled along her skin, caressing her soft flesh. She was getting more worked up the more Peter mimicked the movement of her hips, grinding upwards while simultaneously pinning her waist down. 

She tugged harshly on the patch of hair that lived on the back of his neck, eliciting one of the sexiest groans she had ever heard. His heavily lidded eyes that held the same fire as hers, both scared and excited her. 

As she leaned in closely, preparing her words carefully she ordered him to, “Kiss me here,” before planting her lips on his neck. Flattening her tongue to lick a stripe up the exposed skin, she began swirling the appendage before nipping, licking, and sucking until his skin had a reddish purple hue. 

She got lost in the feel of him, succumbing to the sound of his hisses and moans only to yelp a moment later, when Peter mimicked her earlier actions.

With a fistful of her hair, and her exposed neck jutting out towards his lips he licked a stripe against the skin, just as she did earlier, only his measures were steady and calculated, taking note of every flinch and hitch of her breath. He found her sweet spot in seconds, focusing all of his attention there. 

With her nails digging into his flesh, and her hips stuttering, Peter knew he had her where he wanted her. “Like that?” He rasped, pulling away to admire the strings of purple and blue that littered her skin. 

“Fuck yea Parker; you learn fast.” She gasped, attempting at a laugh, as she peeled her chest off of him.  She took a hand of his into hers, grasping two of his fingers as she bought them to her lips. 

Hollowing her cheeks as she sensually sucked and lubricated his digits, she bought his other hand down to her shorts, beckoning him to unbutton them. “Touch me here.” She murmured, eyes taking in the wide curious ones staring back at her. 

With the newly slick fingers, Peter did as she told him, dipping his fingers beneath the waistband of her panties and finding her nub instantaneously. “Right here?” He enquired, when her breathing turned shaky. 

“Mmm, god yes!” She praised, as he worked his fingers over her. 

Setting a consistent pace, Peter lightly grazed her clit, every time he ran his fingers up and down her folds. “Am I doing this right?” He questioned, flicking and teasing her core. 

“Mhm” She mewled, “fuck y-your fingers feel so good” Her speech was now becoming slightly incoherent.

“Yeah?” He groaned, “What about my mouth?” He asked, just before unclasping her bra a little too effortlessly with one hand. Latching his lips against her perky chest, he massaged the other mound with his free hand.  

Words were lost on her, as she became a wanton mess. She couldn’t fathom how he could be so skillful with both hands. How a person could multitask the way that he did was indescribable. His hand on her clit didn’t let up, but neither did the one that tweaked and pulled on her nipple. Not to mention the hot tongue that darted and sucked meticulously at her other. She couldn’t stifle her cries if she tried. 

Riding his fingers, she pressed his head further into her chest,  becoming greedy with his touch, as she sprinted towards her orgasm. She thought that this feeling couldn’t get any better. 

Of course, Peter was full of nothing but surprises tonight, and needed to prove her wrong. He let two of his fingers slip inside of her, while a thumb replaced the ones that were glued to her clit. Rubbing circles against her sex, he pumped the two fingers furiously in and out of her hole. 

“Does that feel good, baby?”

But the girl didn’t answer, Her mouth hung open as if she wanted to, but the words were jumbled somewhere in her throat. Her face twisted into pleasure, and she couldn’t do anything but succumb to his measures against her body.

It wasn’t long before she felt her stomach spasming, the heat pooling to her core, her already sensitive flower growing even more sensitive, as she came into his palm. 

Her juices coated his digits, her walls fluttered around them, and her skin was now hot to the touch, as Peter forced her climax out of her. 

Tears flooded her eyes, as she took in as much air as she could. When had she stopped breathing? Maybe sometime during the earth-shattering orgasm her old classmate was giving her. 

Once the ringing in her ears subsided, and her lower region began to cool again, she thanked the boy and praised him as she said, “You did so well,” before planting hot wet kisses on his shoulder and neck.

She stopped when she felt his body shaking. Coming back up to eye him, she asked what he found so funny. 

Peter tried to hide the smirk that plastered his lips but he couldn’t hold his act any longer. “You just don’t get it do you?” He asks as he casually licks and sucks at his fingers, just as she did earlier, relishing in the taste of her essence. 

The confusion on her face and brain was evident. “Get wha—” He had her pinned on her back, before she could utter the last syllable.

The tight space was cramped, but the boy had more than enough room to stalk his prey. He hovered above her, ridding her of the rest of her clothes in one fell swoop, before delivering his monologue. 

“I don’t know what it is about girls like you, but I swear you drive me crazy.” He admitted, before removing his jeans in a quick motion. “You always assume that just because I’m a nice guy, I won’t be able to fuck your brains out.” He informed, before revealing a hidden condom and rolling it on before lining himself up at her entrance. “But I hope that if tonight proves anything to you,” He starts, eyes finally darting up to land on her horror-filled ones, “it will be that your mindset can land you in a whole heap of trouble.”

And with that, he grasps the door above her head, before sinking himself into her.

Groaning at the feel of her, Peter’s facade dropped completely. Her tight little cunt feels even better than he imagined, and he hopes that he feels better than she ever imagined. 

He starts slow, with the intent of her feeling every ridge of his cock, as it threatens to invade her stomach. Her soft tits bouncing with every thrust, send a jolt through his body every time her nipples graze his chest. The way his name falls off her sweet tongue, has him in shambles, as he picks up his pace, throwing slow and steady out of the window. 

Her cries are loud in his ear, as he ruts against her sex. He’s so thick, its hard for her to think straight. He can feel the indents of her nails as they dig into his lower back; she tries to press his ass closer to her, never wanting him to leave.

Maybe if it were any other guy fucking her, she would have felt the seat buckle digging into her back. Maybe she would have felt her sticky sweaty skin on the leather of his back seat. Maybe the awkward position her head was in would have spoiled her experience. But with Peter, she could only focus on the pleasure. 

His thrusts were relentless now. His hot breath was fanning the side of her cheeks. His previously damp hair, stuck to her neck, as he drove himself further into her skin. Nothing could distract him away from her in this moment.

Nothing but the faint glow of her phone, that is. It’s buzzing, and vibrations immediately catching his eye, as he held his head up. That same dangerous smirk that she saw earlier returning. 

“Look who’s calling, baby.” He purred, overcoming the stutter of his hips. When he held her phone up for her to see, her heart sank at the mischief behind his words. Brad. “Should we answer it?”

“No, Pete!” She cried. 

“Oh come on, that would be rude wouldn’t it?” He dared, before delivering a particularly hard thrust, that sent her mind into a haze. “We can stop so you can take this—”

“No! D-don’t stop” She begged, prying the phone from his fingers, and fumbling with the answer button. 

“Babe? Hello?” Brad’s irritating voice answered flooding, her phone’s speaker. But the girl didn’t answer immediately, because she was too busy trying to stifle her whimpers. 

“Hey Brad!” She finally choked out, sounding somewhat normal. How she managed to do it, she couldn’t say. 

“Wow! Finally. This is like my eighth time trying you. I almost can’t believe you answered. What are you up to?”

“Should you tell him what you’re up to, babe?” Peter devilishly whispered against her skin.

“Nothing!” She whined into the phone. 

“Whoa. Are you okay? You sound a little off?”

“You should tell him you sound like this because I’m making you feel so good.” Peter suggested, driving her body up and down the seats. “I bet he’d wish he were me right now.”

“I-I’m just a feeling a l-li-little sick is all.” She breathlessly stuttered.

“Should I come over?”

“Ah yes Peter!” She wailed, when the boy starts circling his fingers against her clit, while simultaneously grinding slowly but roughly into her. She’s no longer paying attention to the man on the other end. His curses don’t faze her, nor does Peter’s actions as he releases the phone from her grip. 

“Hey Brad. Remember me.” He casually asks, ignoring Brad’s threats. “Yeah no man, don’t worry about her: I’ll make sure she’s real good and taken care of.” He promises, before ending the call, and tossing the device into the passenger’s seat. “Think he finally got the hint?”

Peter then takes the girl’s hips into his hands, lifting her inches off the seat, before pulling her body onto his dick at an ungodly speed.

Crying. She’s literally crying, with tears streaming down her face. Her voice is becoming hoarse with moans. She had never experienced such intense sex in her life. 

Peter brings the hand that was previously plastered on the glass down to the girl’s face. “would this be the definition of fucking your brains out, baby?” He grunts, in reference to the girl’s constant repetition of his name. It’s the only word she can remember, as he fucks her into the chair. 

His movements shook the car. The heat that their bodies radiated, fogging up the glass. The scent of their sex now embedded in the fabric of his seats. The boy was completely untamed. 

Her screams were one among the things that set him off. The way her body writhed against his was another. The stutter in her speech another. But the unbridled lust that her eyes held, was the literal icing on the cake. 

Thank fuck she came before him. Her tight little hole constricting and clenching his dick. And when he started slipping in and out, her eyes glued shut, and her chest started to rise and fall, he knew that she had came. 

A sweaty fucked out mess before him, she needed Peter to finish her off before she was satisfied. “Drown me in your cum” She begged, and it was like he knew exactly what she wanted. 

Unsheathing himself from her, he ridded himself of the condom, and started tugging violently at his cock. Fucking his hand, not unlike the way he fucked her earlier, he spurted his milky white seed all over her supple brown canvas, a husky groan roaring from his chest as he threw his head back in pleasure. His seed extinguished the heat that resided in her skin, and she closed her eyes shut, letting her head fall back down on the seat. 

The image of his white paint, all over her stomach, chest, and tits, bleeding into his memory, as he came back down from his high. 

Once back down to earth, reality began to sink back in. Immediately recomposing himself, Peter blurted, “Fuck are you okay? Was I too rough?”

His sudden outburst almost made her jump out of her skin, but she quickly recovered. “Oh god no Parker! I loved every minute of that.” She lazily smiled reassuringly.  “Do you always fuck like that?”

Peter returned the smirk, blushing before saying, “I’ve always wanted to fuck you like that.” 

After planting a final kiss on her lips, he reached into the center console, to scavenge a few wet wipes, cleaning her skin before discarding them. 

Moments later, they reunited with their lost articles of clothes, pulling the fabrics over their limbs before crawling back into the front seat.

When Peter put his seatbelt back on, and cranked the car up with no effort, he felt the heat of the girl’s eyes on his skin. 

“What?” He asked, dumbfounded by her glare. 

“Was there ever anything wrong with the car?”

And then as if just realizing Peter mouthes oh, before telling her simply “No.” Adding on that he just wanted an excuse to spend more time with her. 

“Well how the fuck did you know I wasn’t gonna just take your offer for an Uber?”  She asked, more impressed than pissed.

“Because you’re a neutral person, and a neutral person would feel too bad about doing that.”

“There’s a lot of things I still have to learn about you Parker.” She admits, sinking down into her seat. Heat rising to her cheeks, as a new crush began to develop. 

“Don’t worry. I’m willing to teach you.” 

 A/N: So like...don’t be afraid to tell me what you think. I swear I dont bite...unless you're into that. also this was edited it, but probably not well, so tell me if you see an error. 

[t3kandson]

Patience

Word count; 897

Fandom; The Boyz

Pairing; Reader X Kim Younghoon & Reader X Sohn Eric

Characters; Kim Younghoon, Sohn Eric, Moon Kevin, Lee Sangyeon, Lee Juyeon, Lee Hyunjae, Kim Sunwoo, Ju Haknyeon, Ji Changmin, Bae Jacob and Choi Chanhee

Warnings; Fluffy & Angst

Notes; Chapter 2/10 part two, Part & Chapter One here.

Two weeks had past and every second was a second too long. You punched the wall taking comfort from the searing pain that followed. You found yourself isolated from your brothers having begun to hate them.

Juyeon and Sangyeon had punished you for disobeying them and had treated you like their slave. They had fun watching you starve from their refusal of blood capsules and making you feed on human life. Each girl you tried so hard to stop at the right time. But each time you failed. The Bitterness that Younghoon had succesfully turned Y/N, it felt like he was much more superior then you, yet you was older in vampire years.

Haknyeon and Sunwoo had pretty much mocked you, enjoying seeing you Seethe in anger that Younghoon had turned, who they believed was your pet.

Jacob’s silence returned, you had thought you had got passed Alisha’s Death. You knew he would never forgive you, but holding you down as Younghoon took Y/N, knowing he could have easily killed her, surely was revenge enough. How had he returned to you feeling as if you was the bad person in this.

Hyunjae and Younghoon however You hated. You didn’t even like being in the same building then them, let alone room. Having trusted them both and then both them stabbing you in the back, left a bitter taste.

Changmin and Chanhee had tried to talk to you, but you wanted to be alone most of the time.

Kevin however had taken Y/N. Apparently she was struggling so bad being turned. He had sought and been given permission to take her away to train her. Though you had hoped it was with her blood control and thirst, you had a sinking feeling it was so Juyeon and Sangyeon could train her to be their army. Younghoon’s blood was in her veins and like Jacob and Chanhee wasn’t in Juyeon’s control. Jacob was taken by Sangyeon and Chanhee was taken by Changmin. Juyeon hated the lack of control to them. But Younghoon was different, you had worked out he was like Kevin. He could control moods. You felt that Juyeon wouldn’t be able to control him like he could with the rest of you. What if Kevin being away with her was to make her more subjective. You hated, but loved Y/N stubbornness and hated that she had changed enough.

“Hey Eric,” you heard Chanhee from behind. “You ok?” he asked, you refused to look at him continuing to stare at the wall. “I’m fine Chanhee,” you replied. He sat next to you, “No your not, your acting just like,” he said, softly.“I don’t want to hear about him,” you cut him off. “She’s a vampire now, i don’t understand why you two still are being so hateful towards each other,” Chanhee protested. “You don’t understand,” you said frustrated. “I know you love her, I know he loves her too, I’m not a fool,” he replied sweetly. You looked at him, no one knew Younghoon loved her. They all believed his sorrow was from the guilt of turning an human. He had told them her blood was too much to handle, being a young vampire and having been too weak. Only you knew that he was in love with her or that was what you thought. You looked back at the floor of the room, wondering why Younghoon had decided to spill, but then you remembered you realised you didn’t know him any more.

It was then that you smelt it, that smell that was slightly different, but you knew it enough to know who it was. It was Y/N she was back.

You rushed to the entrance of the building, there she was looking beautiful, her clothes hugged her in a way you never seen before, cuddling her curves. Her hair golden brown and tied in a bun. But her smile when she saw you stole your breath, beneath the slightly red tinted eyes that almost matched yours, made her glow. How had her being a vampire made her look so radiant. She ran towards you, wrapping her arms around you. You held her so tightly Incase it was a while before you held her again, if their would ever be another chance to do so. “I missed you,” she said her voice more silky. “I missed you too,” you said pulling her back so you could look at her again. “You look much stronger,” you replied causing her smile to widen. “Because I am, Kevin helped me,” she said smiling.

You looked behind her towards him, you nodded with appreciation despite the anxiety of what kept them busy. “I’ll leave you be, Sangyeon will no doubt want to talk to me,” Kevin said making his way past you. You stroked her face before pulling her in to kiss her forehead. She chuckled at your touch and then she gulped, looking past you in the distance “Hi Younghoon,” she said, looking anxious.

You rolled your eyes remembering your complicated situation, not helped with the fact he now could control her. But also because with his blood in her veins, she was more in-likely to fall in love with him even more, especially as she was in love with him before she was turned. You twisted to face your former friend, his eye smalled as he took you in.

Previous chapter. Next chapter

Masterlist

[girl-bateman]

Last day (Simon x Nathan)

Fandom: Misfits

Read it on AO3

Warning: Mature rating

That last day Nathan doesn’t sleep. He tries, he closes his eyes over and over again, and yet, somehow, they end up open anyway. It's mechanical, like the very act of closing his eyes is what's causing them to open again. Close, click, open. The only thing he can hear in the dark is his own hollow breathing and the occasional lonesome car driving past in the night.

The less he thinks about it, the more he rots. The more his stomach turns and the more he can't sleep.

The next day, the last day, Simon instantly takes note of the dark circles under his eyes.

"You don't look so peachy yerself," Nathan huffs back.

Considering everything, he'd think Simon would be ignoring him, stealing glances his way whenever he thought Nathan couldn't see him. Staying hidden in the shadows, staying invisible, isn’t that what he's good at anyway? On the other hand, it's not the first time this week Simon has surprised him. Maybe he really has got a set of balls.

"I couldn't sleep," Simon confesses and Nathan considers telling him he isn't alone in that. He decides against it of course since it would make it sound like he actually cares. Which he doesn't. Obviously.

They stay quiet for a while. Simon is always the first to arrive at the community center and  Nathan has gotten used to the way he carefully opens the door in the morning, like he’s scared to wake up the rest of the world. Or maybe he’s just scared to wake up Nathan considering he still sleeps there. They’re in the locker room, Simon pretending to comb his hair, an obvious excuse to stay just for a while longer. Nathan is not doing much at all. He just stares at the tired marble floor, the black grease stuck in between the tiles, wondering if it’s ever been cleaned.

“It’s weird,” Simon finally says. He’s not usually one to break the silence but to be fair, Nathan usually isn't quiet for this long.

“It feels like we just got here,” he continues, “but at the same time, it feels like we’ve been here forever.”

“And now it’s all over,” Nathan finishes.

“Now it’s all over,” Simon agrees.

They look at one another and it strikes Nathan how different Simon looks from that first day. He’s gotten weirdly muscular and his hair isn’t shaped like a wet bucket anymore. There is something different in his face too. The way he carries himself, the way his look has become direct, unafraid. He’s no longer living on borrowed time, like he’s one fatal error away from getting confiscated the privilege of being alive. Simon has changed, he has grown from a scared little boy to a man, and it hurts that Nathan can’t say the same for himself.

“I’m sorry,” Simon says, “about before”.

Nathan shakes his head, tries to think of a clever joke to make that sad little wrinkle between Simon’s brows disappear. But all he can say is “Barry, come on, you don’t have to- a little kiss never killed anyone.”

That's when Curtis decides to come in, and Nathan has never been so thankful and frustrated at the same time.

“Last day, huh,” is all he says. Last day indeed.

---

“I know it’s your last day, and maybe you think that's an excuse to slag off, but you can bet your sorry arses that if you annoy me, I will make these last hours miserable,” Shaun gives each one of them a pointed look, “so get it together. And if any of you little shits wiggle your way back here by some ungodly curse, you better hope I won't be your next supervisor.”

“Very inspiring,” Alisha notes sarcastically.

Shaun ignores her, “let’s just get through this,” he says, “we've all got things we'd rather be doing.”

Their little group of misfits scatters outside, anti-drug brochures in hand, ready to inconvenience strangers with their unselfish service to the community. Nathan thinks it’s ironic that a bunch of half-criminals are preaching about the dangers of illegal substances. What would they know about making healthy choices in life?

“Ya think that’s tha’ point?” Kelly ponders, “like- don’t do drugs or you’ll end up like this.”

“That’s fucked,” Curtis comments.

They spend the morning like that, brochures ready for anyone who has the misfortune of walking past them, mindless chatter filling their boredom. Nathan finds his look wandering. Suddenly he has become the one who can’t dare to speak, only stealing quick glances when Simon is occupied repeating drug statistics to strangers who definitely aren't listening. He was lying before when he said a kiss never killed anyone because at this moment Nathan is dying. His heart, that stupid little beating muscle that actually bears no use in his immortal body, is aching. It feels like some douchebag Italian is stretching it out like pizza dough, trying to make it ridiculously thin, thin enough to break by mere touch.

Nathan isn’t very skilled at this whole “loving pathetically from afar”-thing, and Simon catches him looking, giving him a sad little smile that Nathan has no idea what it means.

The whole thing is sort of ironic when you think about it. Nathan spends his days ridiculing some shark-faced bastard, only to be kissed by said bastard, only to realize he’s had feelings for him all along, only to realize how useless that realization is. But no matter how much it does not, in fact, matter, Nathan can’t help but look at him. He can’t help but think back to that moment.

Another ironic fact to add to the list; the kiss that made Nathan realize he was in fact in love with Simon Bellamy, was truly one of the most awful ones he’s ever had. First off, the timing was horrendous.

He and Simon had been in the bathroom stalls at the local library. The group had initially been sent there to pack up old books, but when it was discovered that some old drunk had projectile vomited all over one of the bathrooms Simon and Nathan were sent in to clean it up- Nathan, as a punishment for some stupid comment he’d made about Shaun's new haircut and Simon as an insurance that the job would actually get done.

The whole stall smelt like acid and Polish vodka and Simon's face went pale at the force of it. After about a bottle of some neon blue soap liquid, it wasn't nearly as unbearable, but the distinguished puke-fumes definitely still lingered in the air. Nathan had cracked some joke about him, thanks to growing up with his dad, being used to the smell, practically having grown a superhuman resistance to it. That wasn't true of course. Nathan hated the smell of puke almost as much as he hated the sound of it, the heaving and the couching triggering an instant disgust. And maybe Simon had seen it on his face because he didn't laugh, actually, he seemed somewhere between uncomfortable and pitying.

“What? Are you going soft on me, Barry?” Nathan had said, and he had meant it as another joke so he felt a little thrown off when Simon, without missing a beat, said “maybe I am.”

After that there had been a moment of silence before Nathan let out a forced laugh, “well, you better let it all out, my friend. In a week I'll be on some plane- I have it all planned out, I'll adopt the hippie lifestyle of being a useless freeloader, couch-surfing, and eating fall fruit. I still haven’t decided on Bangkok or Las Vegas, but in the end, it’s pretty much the same-”

Simon had decided to cut his rant short, using the unorthodox method of pressing his lips hard against Nathan’s. Maybe it was Nathan's own fault for telling him to “let it all out” but this truly had not been what he had in mind. Not only were they crouched down in front of a stinking toilet bowl, but the kiss itself was sloppy. It had been too hard and Simon’s aim had been way off, his lips crashing into the space between his nose and his lower lip. They were wearing gloves for fuck sake. Plastic, yellow, gloves stained with soap and puke residue.

It only lasted for a second and Simon pulled away just as violently as he had pulled in, his eyes wide in the horrified realization of what he had done. Then, he promptly disappeared. Nathan had never seen him turn invisible before that, he supposed that was the point, but it was sort of fascinating to actually see it happen. Suddenly Simon was just gone, like he hadn't even been there in the first place, the air he had occupied just a moment ago hauntingly empty. Like a photograph where someone had been ruthlessly clipped out.

“Come back, you twat” Nathan had hissed, “I'm not cleaning this by myself!”

---

That last day ends at the pub. Alisha and Curtis are working the bar and Nathan is leaning in with his glass under the beer tap, refilling it with steady intervals.

“Are you gonna pay for it this time?” Curtis asks even though he already knows the answer.

He lets Nathan be though, just this once. Maybe it's because he senses Nathan is a bit pitiful at the moment, or maybe it's because this will be the last time they’ll see each other for a while. Nathan doesn't care as long as he gets free drinks.

“So what now?” Kelly asks.

“What do you mean?” Alisha hums, carefully drying off the glasses that just came fresh from the dishwasher, placing them neatly on top of each other.

“I mean, what are we gonna do now that community service as’ ended?”

Curtis shrugs, “me and Alisha got the bar so I guess we’ll be working on that for a while…” he trails off, “I guess we just do what normal people do.”

“Right,” Kelly nods. She turns to Simon, “what are you gonna do?”

To no one's surprise, Simon has it all figured out. Apparently, he’s applied to some film school in Vancouver (wherever in the bum-fuck that is) where he plans to study film production.

“What,” Nathan snarls, “are you gonna be some Tarantino-guy then? I heard he got a foot fetish, you know.” The comment feels a little tame, like it's just a cheap copy of his usual locally sourced- made with love- bullying.

“Tarantino is a director.”

“So?”

“So it’s not the same as a producer.”

“Yeah yeah,” Nathan huffs, refilling his glass again, ignoring Curtis’s warning glare, “producer, director, potato tomato.”

Curtis sighs at him, “what’s your plan then, Nathan? Let me guess- the same exact thing you’ve been doing all along, stealing shit and pissing people off.”

“Ouch,” Nathan gasps dramatically, “touched a nerve with the Tarantino stuff, did I? Are you one of his fangirls? Did you send him feet pics? Be honest.”

Curtis just shakes his head, “prick,” is all he says.

---

The last day doesn't actually end at the pub, it ends at the community center. In fact, the day ends just like it began, with Nathan not sleeping. He tries to listen to some music but that only makes it worse. It reminds him of being buried, of the air hanging thin around him while the music in his ears went on and on, his playlist repeating endlessly until the battery died and all entertainment he had left was half-hearted masturbation. Needless to say, he doesn't want to think about it.

He turns the music off just in time to hear the door by the entrance open, footsteps swiftly coming his way. At first, he thinks it's some kind of intruder, perhaps a lunatic having escaped from the mental hospital, looking for lonely teenage boys to snack on. But when he hears that all too familiar voice yelling his name, he relaxes only to tense up again because what the fuck is Simon doing there in the middle of the night?

Nathan doesn't greet him but Simon finds his way to Nathan's little hiding spot anyway, awkwardly standing there until Nathan can’t take it anymore.

“Jesus, just-” he scoots over to make more space on the mattress, “sit here.”

So Simon does, but he doesn't look any less awkward. He can’t meet Nathan’s eyes, staring into the empty air instead.  

“I’m sorry for kissing you,” he says.

“You already said sorry.”

“Yeah but I-”

“And I said it was fine, didn’t I?”

“But I wanted to-” Simon insists.

“There’s nothing more to say about it,” Nathan insists back, “it was just a kiss, the world didn’t end, did it? So quit being all dramatic about it.”

“I should have asked if it was okay.”

“Don’t be a girl, Barry,” Nathan protests.

“No,” Simon shakes his head, “I should have asked, and I’m sorry I didn’t. I knew you didn't feel that way about me but I kissed you anyway and I need to apologize properly.”

“God,” Nathan groans, “please stop talking.”

He is suddenly aware of how small the mattress is and how close they are forced together. His bare legs feel exposed and he wishes he was one of those psychopaths who slept in full-length pajama pants instead of just boxers. Simon’s hand is resting on his leg, just an inch away from him. He can’t properly see him in the dark but he can imagine his features all stoic and matter of fact. His idea that Nathan doesn't feel the same way about him isn’t a theory, it's a stone-cold fact, so obvious that Simon has not bothered to even question it. No matter how calculated he supposedly is, his fatal flaw will always be his own assumption of low value. That no one could possibly fall for a weirdo like him.

Ironically that was Nathan’s first thought too. He had been in the shower (the best place for life-changing realizations) when it first hit him. I think I’m in love with the twat . His next thought had been along the lines of “why him and why now”? Well, that's not true. His very first thoughts after being hit with the fact that he fancied Simon was “what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck whatthtefuck????”. Maybe he had been the one with bad timing all along, only piecing together his own feelings after literally having them shoved in his face. If Nathan had only known sooner… maybe it wouldn’t have made a difference, but at least he’d have time. He and Simon could have worked it out somehow, or at least they’d spend a couple of months being a gross couple who made out all the time, making everyone else painfully uncomfortable, before tragically breaking it off as community service ended and they both realized their lives were fundamentally different. Any time but now when they were supposed to move on from each other. Simon was supposed to chase his stupid dreams and Nathan was supposed to continue stealing shit and pissing people off.

It had been quite the shower and despite being naked, his body had felt heavy with unfamiliar responsibility. What was he to do with all this, where did you put feelings you had no use for? Should he have felt exhilarated? Overwhelmed by longing and adoration? Or should he grieve- eat ice cream straight out of the container like they did in movies, cursed with the thoughts of what could have been and what would never become.

In hindsight, of course he should have known. One of the only things that actually made community service enjoyable was annoying Simon, finding new ways every day to get his attention. Opening up the buttons on Simon's shirt and calling him a little slut, messing up his hair just when he’d just combed it through. Throwing candy wrappers his way, giving him a toofy grin in response to Simon’s unimpressed glaring. Nathan was always making sure to stay close, always having a comment, a joke lined up. And whenever he managed to have Simon give him that shy, boyish smile, something within him always shifted, the insides of his stomach doing a stupid pirouette and his heart joining in with applause.

Kelly had asked him about Simon once, and it was, once again, a little ironic in hindsight.

“Can you be dead honest, cus’ I'm being genuine askin’ this” she had said, “are you… do you like Simon?”

Of course, Nathan had made fun of her relentlessly for even asking and Kelly had actually ended up a little embarrassed, the tips of her ears bright pink.

“Shot up, Nathan,” she had said, shoving him hard in his side, “sometimes I just wonder because, ya kno, I can hear your thoughts and all tha’, and…”

“And what?”

“Nothin’, you just think about him a lot.”

He wondered if she knew what had happened, if she was saving him the humiliation of being reminded that “I told you so”. He wondered what she would have made of all this. If he were to guess, she would have probably knocked him over the head and called him a bloody idiot. And maybe that was fair enough.

“I’m sorry,” Simon says again and Nathan buries his face in his hands, letting out a frustrated cry.

“Jesus, Barry, stop apologizing for shit you don’t need to apologize for,” he snaps.

“Sorry.”

Nathan looks up at him, and Simon opens his mouth, probably to say sorry again, so Nathan covers it with his hand because he can't stand hearing that word even one more time. Simon looks a little scared, and it's actually cute. He looks like a bunny, his big gray eyes staring Nathan down.

“I never said I was offended by the kiss,” Nathan mutters, “I didn’t say anything actually, you just assume I don’t like you back, and you just assume I didn’t like the kiss.”

Simon tries to say something against his hand but it ends up all muffled.

“Oh, right,” Nathan says, taking his hand off of Simon's face.

Simon wipes it with his own hand which is hilarious when you think about it. Simon has no problem attacking his lips, salvia all over the place, but a little hand sweat is suddenly gross?

“So did you like it then,” Simon says, his voice crystal clear now, “the kiss I mean?”

Nathan can’t help but laugh at that and he almost feels bad as he senses Simon deflating beside him. Not bad enough to stop laughing, but still.

“It was the worst kiss I’ve ever had,” he confesses, “I mean, in the toilets? Surrounded by puke? What were you thinking, Barry?”

“I’m sor-” Simon stops himself, instead letting out a sigh, leaning his body against the cold wall behind them.

He runs a hand through his hair, “I wish I hadn't-” he says, “I wish it wouldn’t have happened like that.”

Nathan is quiet for once, he can tell Simon is trying really hard to think of just the right words to say, expressing his feelings and all that gay shit.

“But when you reminded me that community service would be ending soon, I just….” Simon shrugs, “I got scared that I would never get the chance to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

“You know.”

Nathan smirks, “tell me that you’ve fancied me from the moment you saw me in that sexy orange jumpsuit- admit it, it suits me.”

Simon shrugs again but Nathan can see the outline of that shy smile growing on his face.

“Pretty much,” he admits.

Nathan lets his body fall back, his head now leveled with Simons, “do it again,” he says.

“Do what?”

“You know.”

Simon is still for a moment and Nathan wonders for a brief second if he actually is too daft to get the hint. But then he leans in, placing his hands gently on the sides of Nathan's face (and it’s so much better without cleaning gloves on). Simon closes the gap between them and when their lips finally touch again, Nathan feels like his useless immortal heart might beat itself to death with how fast it's pumping. Simon pulls away almost immediately, but he doesn't look scared this time, he just studies Nathan's face for a reaction. And Nathan doesn't like being studied so he brings Simon in for another kiss, then another, and then another.

In the dark, he can’t really tell where he stops and Simon begins. He just knows they’re kissing and that it's amazing and that he feels like he's dying a little bit, but in the best way possible. His lips are getting sore but he doesn't care because Simon's mouth is warm and soft and it makes him dizzy with bliss. He lets his hands wander, feeling the lines of Simon’s back, the sides of his chest, the spot where his skin meets the rough fabric of his jeans. Nathan doesn't really know what he wants to do with it all. Suddenly there’s so much of Simon and Nathan hasn't spent long enough time being a lovesick bastard to have gotten this planned out. He wants it all at the same time, wants to feel every inch of Simon's body, fill his mouth with the taste of him, fill the room with his sounds.

He settles on letting his hands rest against Simon’s hips while keeping their lips tightly interlocked. His fingers are teasing the elastic band of Simon’s briefs, forcing out these breathy gasps that amuses Nathan just as much as they make him horny. He is getting painfully hard, his bulge pressing against his boxers. Nathan tries to line up Simon’s thigh in between his legs, using the hands on his hips to pull himself up, grinding himself on Simon in the process, the sudden friction making him groan into Simon's mouth.

“Nathan?” Simon whispers.

“Mm?”

“I haven’t really done anything like this before,” he admits.

Nathan looks up at him, noting he looks a little bit like a scared bunny again, his big eyes glazed and his pupils dilated. His hands are still on Nathan's face, the back of his fingers tangled in his hair while his thumbs caress his cheek.

He’s so beautiful Nathan thinks, but he doesn't say it out loud, instead whispering, “I haven't really done anything like this either.”

“Well, not with a guy,” he adds when Simon gives him a doubtful look.

Neither of them says anything for a moment. The only things they can hear in the dark are their own ragged breaths and the occasional lonesome car driving past in the night.

“You’re so beautiful,” Simon suddenly says.

Nathan doesn't answer, he just kisses Simon again, and then again and then again.

---

That first day Nathan wakes up with Simon’s arm draped across his chest and his nose lightly touching Nathan’s bare shoulder. He savors it for a moment, taking in the sight of Simon's skin in the morning sunlight, his messy hair sticking up in all directions. Then he can’t take it anymore, moving over to straddle Simon with his tights, leaning down to ruthlessly poke the sides of his face.

“Come on, wake up,” he says, faking horror, “someone is coming- we can’t let them see our naked intertwined bodies.”

Simon snaps awake at that, his head scanning the room in panic. He only relaxes when he pieces together the lie, Nathan roaring with laughter from above him.

“Funny,” he mutters, leaning back against the mattress and closing his eyes again.

Nathan stops laughing, “awe, don’t be like that, baby,” he pouts mockingly, “I just wanted to give you a little scare.”

When Simon doesn't answer, his eyes firmly pressed shut, Nathan lets his hands ghost over Simon's naked chest, his fingertips teasing Simon's skin.

“I can’t remember,” he ponders, “if these things are sensitive or not.”

He traps Simon’s left nipple in between his fingers, twisting it experimentally while closely monitoring the way Simon shifts slightly under him. He manages to keep his eyes closed, the muscles on his face not moving an inch.

Disappointed at the lack of reaction, Nathan lowers his head, opening his mouth and slowly letting his tongue swipe over the nipple. He can feel Simon shuddering under him, his face strained and his breathing heavy. As he closes his lips around the nipple, sucking gently, Simon lets out an involuntary whimper, letting Nathan know he’s on the right track. He can feel Simon’s cock poking his belly as he leans over the other boy, and he makes a point of angling himself against it to create some friction, winding the other man up the best he can. He sucks on the nipple one more time before biting down- hard,  Simon’s body instantly twitching up.

“Fuck,” Simon gasps, his eyes fully open now, looking up at Nathan who casually keeps on nibbling the sensitive skin. Simon can’t do anything but groan at the feeling, clasping hard at Nathan's shoulders to steady himself.

“So yer awake,” Nathan states when he finally pulls away, his mouth leaving a wet patch of hot saliva all over Simon’s abused nipple.

Simon sighs at the loss of contact, “no,” he lies.

A handjob and a blowie later, the two of them make their way to the showers, the scolding water cleaning away the cum staining Nathan's chest.

“You reckon it makes me look like a porn star?” Nathan asks before letting the water wash it away.

Simon's face turns a bright red at that, turning away to avoid looking at both Nathan and his sullied chest.

“Oh come on,” Nathan teases, “ now yer all shy?”

The water trickles over them and Nathan, without thinking much about it, lets Simon shampoo his hair. It’s like he’s a little kid again, mommy scrubbing his hair clean because he couldn't do it properly himself yet. For a second he forgets all about community service being over and about his lack of general direction in life, not to mention the fact that his only home is a thin mattress in a place that isn't his to begin with.

“So what are we going to do?” Simon suddenly asks, and Nathan forces his eyes open again to look at him.

His hair is sticking wet against his forehead and Nathan finds himself distracted following the movement of the water dripping down along his frame.

“Sorry what?” He says, trying to cut off the eye contact between himself and Simon’s dick (he can’t help it, that thing really stares you down).

“I asked what we’re going to do.”

“What do you mean we ?”

“Well,” Simon shifts uncomfortably, “I mean with this,” he gestures awkwardly between them.

Nathan takes a step away from him, letting the water wash out the shampoo from his hair, cursing as he gets some in his eye.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Nathan dismisses, pathetically trying to get some water into his stinging eye to get out the shampoo.

“Look, Barry,” he says after a lot of blinking and muffled cursing, “we aren't going to do anything. This was fun, yeah? So let’s not ruin a good thing by doing a bunch of talking.”

Simon looks at him, confused, like the shampoo got to his brain, making it into straight mush.

“I thought you liked me too.”

“I never said I didn’t,” Nathan defends himself.

“So you do like me then?”

Nathan opens his mouth, then, realizing it's a trap, closes it again.

“I suppose you could say I care about you more than the average person,” Nathan finally admits, “in fact, I care enough about you to tell you that there will be no we .”

Simon doesn't answer but he seems to have tensed up so Nathan grabs the shampoo bottle, squirts out a generous amount, and starts rubbing it into the other man’s scalp, hoping to calm him down or at least distract him from all this feelings-talking. Simon doesn't look too happy about it, his face all grumpy, but he lets Nathan wash him anyway.

“Don’t look so constipated,” Nathan warns him, “I’m doing you a favour, now you don’t have to break my heart when you move to Vermont.”

“Vancouver,” Simon corrects.

“Virginia,” Nathan adds, “what,” he huffs when he sees Simon’s unimpressed look, “I thought we were doing places on V.”

He keeps on messaging the shampoo into the root of Simon's hair, his fingers working in small circular motions. Simon mumbles something under his breath and Nathan pauses his steady pace. He gives Simon a questioning look.

“What?” Simon says innocently.

“You said something.”

“No I didn’t,” Simon lies.

Nathan gasp in fake scandalization, “if you don’t tell me right now, I will put my soaped up hands in your eye socket, and believe me, that shit hurts.”

Simon rolls his eyes at Nathan's threat and in response Nathan brings up his hands as a warning.

“It doesn't have to end like this,” he says melodramatically and Simon snickers, actually snickers.

“Suit yerself, big guy.”

That's when he attacks, flicking pieces of shampoo foam into Simons' now scrunched-up face. Unfortunately, nothing lands in his eyes, and most of the shampoo is washed away by the shower before it manages to do any damage.

“Come on,” Simon protests, spitting furiously, “that one got in my mouth.”

But Nathan doesn't let that stop him and eventually Simon gives up.

“Okay, fine,” he says and Nathan instantly throws up his hands in a surrendering motion, giving the other man a big grin that Simon just huffs at.

“I just said…” Simon pauses, composing himself.

“I said, why don’t you come with me to Vancouver.”

[ironmariposa]

(The things I did) Just so I could call you mine

Chapter 4/4

Also found on Ao3

Authors notes: So here it is!!! I’m so excited to have it out there and finished. I’ve had so much fun writing this and have appreciated every single comment along the way. Thank you all so very much for reading!!

The baseball scene was greatly inspired by Hate to Want You by Alisha Ray. In fact it was when I read that scene that I came up with this fic idea. Yay for plot bunnies!!!

She’s standing on the dock, her arms crossed over her chest when the boat appears in the distance. She waits impatiently until he cuts the engine and idles closer.

“Hey Ray, I think your girl’s pissed. Or she’s on her period.” Tyler jokes.

“Shut up, Tyler.” Both her and Ray say at the same time.

“What the fuck?!” She shouts at him as soon as Tyler and Adam jump out of the boat and scurry away. “What the actual fuck, Ray?! You crapped out on me to get high on your boat!”

He hops out and grabs the rope, his arm muscles on full display as he ties it off. He jumps back in the boat to grab his ice chest and a few other items, ignoring her question. Ignoring her. He steps back on the dock and makes his way toward the house. Throwing up her hands in frustration she follows.

“You have nothing to say for yourself? Just going to ignore me. That’s fine. I have plenty to say.” She pauses a moment to see if he’ll respond but he just keeps on walking. “You know what, Ray? I’m not mad you bailed on me. Not even that surprised. What pisses me off most was this was an easy A for you. And instead of taking it you flake off like you always do. You think everyone is so against you but the only one truly against you is yourself.”

Finally he stops and turns to her. His sunglasses are down, hiding the truth in his eyes but his jaw is clenched, his nostrils flaring, “You don’t know shit about me.”

“Yeah?” She throws up her hands, “Then why don’t you fill me in?”

“Why?” He questions with so much vinum, “Why do you care? I’m just a Meth Row idiot heading down the same path as my father.”

She gasps because he couldn’t have heard them.

“Isn’t that what your boyfriend, Bishop, said?”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” She says, but she’s lost all her fire and it sounds pathetic to both their ears.

“Doesn’t matter, Heather.” He leans closer, “You agreed with him. Called me an idiot.”

Heather shakes her head, “No. I did not agree with him. I don’t, Ray.” She reaches for him but he jerks away and she drops her hand.

“Look. The project is done. Thank the fuck. Now I can be rid of you.”

“Ray.” She whispers but he cuts her off.

“All you were to me was a fucking nuisance Plaza left me with but now we’re finished. We don’t need to talk ever again. And I’m fucking relieved.”

She watches him walk away until he disappears into his house with the slam of the screen door. It takes her a few tries but she finally manages to walk back the way she came. Instead of heading straight home she detours to the snack mart. Gets herself a strawberry lemonade and her sister some gummy bears. Summer is working and Heather stands there numb as the girl rambles on about the upcoming baseball tournament.

“Only two more months left till we’re free. Got any big plans?” Summer asks casually after giving Heather her purchases.

Heather shrugs as she takes a sip of her drink. It’s just as satisfying as always and she feels her frustration melt away. “Not really.”

Summer leans forward through the window and whispers, “I’ve been asked to help emcee the games.”

Heather's eyes widen, “Who’s the other?”

“Diggins.” Not that surprising of a choice. Daniel Diggins is one of the more outgoing people in their grade and he seems to get along with everyone. “Are you going to play?” Summer asks.

Heather shakes her head, “No.”

Summer smiles at her, “Don’t blame ya. But just FYI I hear the pot is insane this year.” Another customer steps up and Heather waves to Summer with her purchases and starts her walk home.

She spends the rest of her Spring Break working or with Nat. Bishop is on vacation with his family. Some beach. But he’s still not talking to her so it doesn’t matter. She tries to do some fun stuff with Lily. Takes her to putt-putt at Andy’s and spends a good five minutes watching a kid in the batting cages. She wonders one too many times what Ray is doing. She knows he’s probably working too. Or out on his boat.

She wonders more than once if he’s taking another girl out with him.

All in all it’s a completely uneventful Spring Break and it’s a bit depressing considering it’s her Senior year. But completely typical considering who she is and where she comes from. Carp doesn’t let people like her escape.

Bishop returns from his trip with a bag of seashells and an apology. She easily forgives him, she’s never been able to resist when he tilts his head and gives her that sweet smile of his.

“Look. I’m not gonna pretend to understand.” He says.

“There’s nothing to understand, Bishop.”

And that’s that. Natalie dances around them and they make plans to go to a party that night.

The Senior baseball tournament starts with a school wide pep rally. As usual it’s loud and uncomfortable as they all crowd into the hot gym. The cheerleaders jump around and shake their Pom poms while the Principal tries to get everyone excited. Typically, the Freshmen and Seniors are the only ones that show any enthusiasm. The middle grades could care less. Finally they’re released and everyone makes their way to the baseball fields behind the middle school.

Natalie and Bishop are on the same team and their game is early in the day. Heather watches from the bleachers as Bishop strikes out every time he’s up to bat and Natalie manages to hit a couple of balls. They still lose the game, neither of her friends are really heartbroken over it. They wander around with time to spare, Heathers game isn’t until later in the evening. That’s even if she’s still on the team. She assumes she is since she received a group text.

Heather approaches the bench and gives a half smile as Ray looks over his shoulder at her. His blue eyes are expressionless as they meet hers and it hurts far more than she thought it would. He’s completely avoided her at school and she can’t say she’s been very aggressive with trying to get his attention. It’s back to like it was before they were paired for their project. The two of them acting as if they barely know one another.

She’s handed a jersey and smiles at Summer as she buttons it over her tank.

“Hope you Fuckers are ready to play, because I don’t lose.” Ray says as a pep speech before the game starts.

She only nods at the harsh tone of his voice and sits between Drew Santiago and Summer. Both looking far more excited than she feels about playing. The game starts and she waves shyly at Natalie and Bishop in the stands as they cheer loudly for her.

She is horrible. Absolutely horrible. The other team figures out quickly she’s completely hopeless out in the field and starts trying to hit every ball towards her. And she’s unable to hit a single ball when up at bat. Close to the end of the game, Adam pulls her aside and tries to teach her how to bunt a ball. Ray catches them and shakes his head as if to say she’s hopeless.

That there pisses her off enough to actually do it and she makes it onto first base with loud cheering from her friends in the bleachers and the team in the dugout. Well, most of the team. Ray just stands in the dugout entry, leaning against it with his arms crossed, a hard look on his face. Then she actually gets on second when Summer hits the ball to the outfield.

Heather’s idling at second base when Ray steps up to bat. She has a perfect view of him and she wishes she had spent her time in high school at his baseball games instead of whatever else she had been doing with her friends. He looks really good in the baseball uniform. The pants doing amazing things for his ass.

She hears the crack of the ball and a loud collective gasp before an intense pain in her shoulder. She realizes she’s been hit and takes only a moment to decide what to do. Running to third base she notices someone running towards her. Not someone, Ray.

“What are you doing?” She shouts, “Go to first!” She points back. His eyes are so wide, filled with fear and concern and everything else she missed the past few weeks.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

“I’m fine!” Her eyebrows lower, “But you’re out now.”

He glances back to first base and hesitates before he’s forced back to their dugout.

“I thought you were obsessed with winning!” She shouts at his back when she makes it back in the dugout. Everyone goes silent around them.

He turns to her and pushes himself in her space, “I am,” he shouts back at her, “But I’m more obsessed with you.”

Heather's face is guarded. Drew shuffles over with an ice pack. A welcome distraction as she thanks him and takes it, pressing it against her shoulder with a flinch. Her eyes flash to the bleachers and Ray follows her gaze to her friends. To Bishop.

Heather sits out the rest of the game and it passes in a blur. Ray stays at the other end of the dugout. The game ends with them losing by one. She silently makes her way to her friends who fret over her injury. They make her show them and both suck in a gasp at the bruise. It does look horrible, feels horrible too. What the hell had she been thinking, playing baseball when she had no clue about the game.

The ballpark empties out and Bishop offers to drive her home. She makes up an excuse and her friends leave her with lingering looks but neither say a word.

She finds Ray by his truck with Sarah and Tyler. She doesn’t hesitate as she approaches him, “Did you mean what you said out there?”

All eyes turn to her and Sarah and Tyler quickly give out reasons they need to go. Scurrying off with a cringe towards Ray. Sarah though shoots Heather a smile.

“Heather, look.” He sounds defeated.

She shakes her head, “Did you mean it?”

He clenches his jaw and lightly punches the side of his truck.

“Because I seem to recall you telling me you didn’t think about me like that. That I was just a nuisance that Mrs. Plaza had left you with.” She jabs a finger in his already bare chest, “That you couldn’t wait to be done with our project so you could, and I quote, be rid of me for good.”

She’s so mad. So incredibly mad and so very confused. It’s been weeks of confusion and she’s tired of feeling that way. Tired of fighting whatever this is between them. Tired of her friends making her feel bad for spending time with him. Tired of him making her feel bad for wanting to spend time with him.

Just. Tired.

He closes his eyes and shuts her out and she can't take it anymore. She shuts down all the reasons why this is wrong and she does what feels right. Grabbing his uniform, she yanks him closer. His blue eyes blink open in surprise.

“Kiss me.” Her voice is both soft and demanding.

He blinks again then brings his hands up slowly. Like he is giving her time to change her mind. But she doesn’t want to change her mind. She lets him cradle her jaw as he leans closer. Lets him brush his lips against hers. So gentle. Just a feather light touch and she needs more. Wants more. She lets him slide his thumb down the smooth column of her throat, tracing her pulse, until she tips her head back and parts her lips in a gasp. His mouth nips at her jaw, her pulse on her neck, up to her ear before returning to her mouth, finding it already open, waiting on a catch in her breath.

This time he kisses her harder, lips moving with the force of weeks worth of wanting. The hand she had fisted in his shirt uncurls and moves to the back of his neck, threading through the hair at the base of his scalp. She tugs at it until he moans her name.

She finds she likes that. She likes making him moan her name in such a pleasurable way. She likes seeing Ray Hall, who’s kissed a hundred girls, who’s fucked just as many, come undone under her touch. She takes great pleasure in it so she does it again as she pushes her body against his.

Gripping her hips he turns them and backs her into his truck, then with a slide of his hands over her butt, he grips her thighs and lifts her. Heather wraps her legs around his waist as he pushes her into the truck and the feel of his cock pressed against her center is the most mind blowing sensation. Heather drops her head back with a loud gasp and Ray makes his way down her throat. In one swift move he’s pulled her jersey open and his mouth continues over her collarbone and down her chest. He growls briefly at her tank top but it’s easily pushed aside as his hands smooth across her sports bra. Her nipples are already hard and she cries out when he slides a rough hand over them.

“Ray. We can’t. Not here.” She manages to get out in staggered breaths.

He stops, pulling back just an inch, she tightens her legs around his waist in fear he’s going to pull away completely.

“Parking lots empty, love.” He says turning back to her. His eyes cut down to her almost exposed breasts and then lower. She bites her lip when he thrusts against her, “But you’re right.”

She gasps as he moves them to the side and then opens the passenger door to his truck. After a brief kiss to her lips he sits her on the edge of the seat and smiles brilliantly up at her.

“What are you doing?” She asks and he raises an eyebrow as he takes her leggings and slides them over her hips and down her legs.

“Gonna taste you. Finally.” He growls and pushes her back, her arms catching herself on his seat. She watches with hooded eyes, her breaths short with anticipation, as he starts his descent down to her center. Just as his eyes are level with her clit, he looks up at her with concern, “This okay?” He asks. And her heart melts that much more.

“God, yes.” She whispers and grabs a handful of his hair as his tongue does one quick slide up her slit.

Ray gives head like he does most things. With lots of enthusiasm and excitement. And Heather appreciates every moment of it. It doesn’t take long for her to come with his name on her lips once he has two thick fingers in her and he’s sucking on her clit. He comes up grinning after and she laughs.

“So, that just happened.”

She sits up and grabs his jersey, pulling him to her, sliding her hands over his bare skin, “I want more.” She whispers against his lips and he chuckles. But then, as her hand slides over his stomach and inside the waistband of his pants, he pulls away.

“What?” She asks.

“Not here. Not like this.”

Heathers confused for a moment. And she feels very exposed as he steps back.

“Hey.” He whispers after seeing the look on her face. He runs a hand over her hair, “I want to. Fuck, do I want to.”

“Then why not?” She asks as she attempts to pull her pants back up. She’s starting to feel embarrassed and she doesn’t like it one bit. She had thought …. Well it didn’t matter what she thought.

“Any other girl I would have already fucked and been on my way. But you. Heather, you’re not any other girl.”

“Oh.”

He leans close, his lips just millimeters from hers, “Yeah, oh.” And he kisses her.

The next day, Heather unfortunately has to work. She is absolutely useless as she spends the entire time thinking about Ray and his tongue. She’s sure she has a blush on her face through most of the day and it’s embarrassing. She meets with Natalie during her break and she confesses that things got a little heated with Ray after the game.

Natalie just raises an eyebrow as she leans back on her hands, “I don’t get it. At all. But,” she shakes her head, “Everyone heard his confession.” She stands up, dusting off her hands before helping Heather up, “Can’t say I blame ya after that.”

Heather smiles. She knows she’ll never truly get her friend's approval but it’s enough.

She finds Rayout on the dock. Shirtless as he leans against a post, a beer in his hand, a cigarette tucked behind his ear. He’s exactly as she always pictured him. Nothing has really changed since they kissed the night before, but it feels like her world has tilted.

She approaches and he turns when he hears her footsteps on the dock. She waves shyly and he gives her his mega watt smile.

“Hey Nill.”

She sits beside him, closer than she would have the day before. He raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment. Instead he nods to the ice chest, “Want a beer?”

“I’m okay.”

He drains the rest of his can and tosses it aside. They sit there for a while, watching the sun set silently together. Neither feel the need to fill the silence and Heather is thankful for that.

“So we kissed.” He says breaking the silence.

She knocks her shoulder against his, “I mean you’ve technically kissed most of the girls in our class.”

“True.” He winks at her and she laughs. He quickly turns serious though, “Just so you know it meant something to me.”

She studies him for a moment, his eyes never leaving hers, “Me too.” She finally admits.

“So. What does that mean for us?”

She shrugs, “I mean technically you don’t date, right?”

He looks back out to the water and she doesn’t realize she’s holding her breath until he says the next words, “Well. For you, I might be willing to make an exception.”

“Might?” She teases.

He laughs as he takes her hand and brushes his lips across the inside of her wrist. Her breath hitches and he smiles wickedly as he grabs her waist and pulls her into his lap.

“If you drop me in the water, Ray, I swear to God,”

“I’m not going to drop you, woman. Stop squirming.” His arms wrap around her back and she feels secure against him as his mouth meets hers. She opens to him willingly and the next time she squirms it’s for pleasure instead of fear.

He pulls his mouth from hers and starts a descent down her neck.

“I feel like I’m falling.” She tells him. He pulls his mouth from her and looks at her with wide eyes, “Not like that.” She says with a laugh, “I mean falling like … like when you jump from Pilots Point.” She traces a finger over his jaw, her eyes following, making his jaw jump with a tick, “You know that feeling between the jump and the landing in the water?” He gives a silent nod, “That’s what this feels like.”

His voice is rough when he responds with a “Yeah.”

She smiles at him, “I love that feeling.”

He brings his mouth closer to hers and just before kissing her again says, “Me too.”

Fin.

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Kismet {8}

Henry Cavill x Famous OFC Aliya Taylor

Warning: Plot, Tiny Slow Burn, Mild Cursing, Dialogue Heavy, POV Changes, Small Time Jumps

Words: 6.6k

Summary: Aliya is a singer turned model turned actress. Since she was fifteen, she’s been creating her empire in the entertainment world. As the daughter of a famous fashion model/designer and Hollywood director, you’d think life is easy for her, but her past has been anything but easy. Due to past trauma, she’s forever changed and no longer trusts any man that is not in her family and a select few in her team. She’s sworn off love and serious relationships and has planned never to fall again, but love isn’t something that can be planned. It just happens when it’s meant to. Can Aliya outrun a love that seems hellbent on holding tight to her, a love that is Kismet?

If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!! 😘  

As always, thank you so much for reading. ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Interactive***

Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 |

-Henry-

The minute he woke the next day and the alcohol had worn off; he instantly regretted his actions. His head was pounding and his nose stuffy, which was always what the morning after a drinking fest looked and felt like for him. the pain in his head made him painfully aware of everything he’d said to you. More than half of him wished he would have just held his peace and moved on, but the other side of him—the stubborn bull side felt nothing but satisfaction from what he’d done. It was time, especially seeing that you completely had the wrong idea about who he was and his character. He couldn’t help but wonder what you thought about your conversation, but instead of dwelling on it, he decided to push it to the side and do the logical thing. Move on.

 It was now five days since that conversation, and though it felt strange the first couple of days to not send you a message when you ran across his mind, he did it and adapted. He now was throwing himself into work because there wasn’t a shortage of it. Most days, he was in pre-production for Witcher two, and that in itself was a lot of work. Production decided to kick fight choreography up a notch because last season wasn’t badass enough. The choreography this season was definitely taking it up several notches, and it meant more long hours of training and even more potential for him to be hurt.

By week two post convo, he was steadily counting down to his vacation time. Training was kicking his ass, and the more and more days that passed, the more he thought of you. That wasn’t all though, the more the way he thought of you changed. In the beginning, he thought he was infatuated or possibly obsessed. When he was around you, he always felt as if he wasn’t in control. He felt like there were forces that were controlling your interactions and pulling a starry blanket over his feelings. He expected this time away to act as a purge, but it hadn’t, not in the way he’d anticipated.

 “Come on, her name is Becca, and she’s super cute,” Alisha said.

 “Why is it that all my brother’s wives want to set me up?”

 “Because we care. You’re too great of a guy to be alone,” Halley complimented.

 They all nodded, and his eldest brother painfully squeezed his cheek.

 “Plus, look at this face,” Nik teased, making all of them elate.

 It had been like this since they were kids. Nothing had changed.

 “I’m perfectly fine being alone,” he answered.

 “Doesn’t mean you should be,” Amee piped out.

 No matter what, he said it wouldn’t be good enough until he gave them what they wanted. He had no intention of doing it, though. He wasn’t sure if it was really his loathing of being set up or because he didn’t want to pretend to want anyone else. Whatever it was, it had him declining to their annoyance. He could stick it out for the next two weeks until he got out of London.

  -Aliya-

“You fucked up, plain and simple,” Amaya blurted out as she flipped through a magazine.

 You rolled your eyes and tried to continue writing notes to the song you’d just wrote. As sure as you were that it was pitch black outside, you knew she wasn’t done—not by a long shot. A minute passed in silence, but as projected, Amaya began again.

 “Just explain to me why you don’t want to be happy.” Amaya tossed the magazine aside, giving you her full attention. Still, you ignored her and kept your eyes glued to the note pad.

 “Liya, come on. At some point in your life, you’re going to have to be honest with yourself.”

 She was right. For the last few weeks, you’d spent a lot of sleepless nights doing just that. Since Henry’s call, you’d been forced to look at your situation in a light you’d ignored. It wasn’t that you were doing it maliciously. It was just easier and neater to see the worst in every situation hence the worst in people. You’d been the girl who dug deep for the best in people and only focused on that and their potential for too long. It made more sense from a survivalist standpoint to be different.

 You’d went back and forth and round and round your situation, and perhaps you were too quick to jump to conclusions. The bottom line was the things he said had affected you, more than you liked and more than you could ignore. A few days after his call, you saw his picture in The Sun. He wasn’t alone. It looked like he’d had a long night of partying. You deduced it was probably the same night he called you. Though he was obviously drunk, he still looked so damn good. In the last few weeks, you’d thought about him a lot. On several occasions, you’d taken up your phone for the sole purpose to stalk his Instagram or even scroll through your gallery to gawk at his pictures. Never though, did you attempt to call.

 The main reason was that you hated being the one in the wrong. You hated feeling like the asshole and what was worse was that you also hated apologizing. So, you bit your tongue, pushed your thoughts and emotions aside, and just hoped time would make it all fade. It didn’t.

 “Aliya!”

 Closing your notepad, you stood. “We’re going to miss the flight.”

 “Whatever! It’s a private jet. It’s your private jet.”

 You were already out of the room, which meant thankfully, you didn’t have to see her face. The drive to the private airfield was about forty-five minutes. For the entire ride, you could feel Amaya’s annoyance with you. she didn’t say one word. Instead, she kept her nose buried in her phone scrolling her life away. It was okay with you; you had plenty of work to do. Plus, you knew this wasn’t over, not by a long shot.

 Sure enough, twenty minutes into the flight to London, she was back at it. The difference between Amaya and Alicia was simple. Where Alicia liked to leave me be until she knew the perfect time to go in because she knew the perfect time would come when you would be more receptive to it, Amaya preferred to go in all the time. She was always on one hundred. You loved both your best friends dearly, and they both spoke to different sides of you, but sometimes you wished they were wrong a lot more often than they were right.

 When you got pulled into a phone meeting, you were grateful and even more so when it lasted for almost two hours. By the time you ended the call, Amaya was napping. Though you thought the silence was what you wanted, it was a blessing in disguise. It meant you now had peace and quiet to think, and your thoughts more often than not went right to Henry.

 When you landed in London and checked into the hotel, it was after midnight. Once you’d taken a shower and answered a few emails, you popped two sleep aids in hopes they would knock you out because you needed all your energy tomorrow.

  -The Next Day-

Hectic was an understatement for how your morning and afternoon had been going. One of the great things about being you was that when you got bored with one career avenue, you had three more to distract yourself with. For the last several months, you’d been focusing on your acting career and had been able to complete two films and three guest appearances. In between acting gigs you were also able to do a few modeling events, including Fall and Spring fashion week.

 What had fallen to the wayside was your singing career. It was almost time for you to fulfill your contractual obligations by releasing another album. You’d been focusing on writing new material for the last few weeks, and tonight you were putting on one of the last stops on a mini-tour your team had planned months ago. The travel alone was killing you. You were exhausted, even more than usual. With every show, you felt your body telling you it would soon be time to slow down or stop for a few months. You needed a break.

 “I should have flown in days ago. I hate feeling like this isn’t perfect.”

 “Aliya, it’s fine,” Alicia countered.

 The perfectionist in you didn’t believe her.

 “I promise. I wouldn’t lie to you. You have to go anyway. The show is supposed to start at six; it’s already three.”

 She was right. Though you hated it, you would have to cross your fingers and hope things looked cohesive. After finishing up the last-minute wardrobe adjustments and a quick pep talk with your dancers, you made your way back to the hotel to get in a little bit of pampering before having to get back to the center for prep.

 As you laid on the table and enjoyed your deep tissue massage, you allowed the worries to float away. There was nothing you could do about it now anyway. You were also sure it was perfectly fine, and just your obsessive nature taking over. Tuning everything out, you focused on your meditative breathing. Before you knew it, it was time to get back to the center to get into wardrobe and put on a show worthy of the hundreds that were spent on tickets. You were determined to perform your ass off.

  -Henry-

He couldn’t have gotten out of tonight no matter what. He’d tried. When Charlie announced to everyone that Heather had made plans for their adults' date night, he rolled his eyes. Now that he thought of it, it was around the time that Amee tried to set him up with that woman. This was supposed to be a blind date, and since he’d declined, he was here alone while all his other brothers were snuggling up and whispering to their significant others.

 Here he was an hour and ten minutes into your show, and he’d never had more fluctuating thoughts and feelings. At first, it was surprise; then annoyance, then it transitioned into awe until it moved to arousal and admiration. Now he was stewing deep in all of them, and it was not a good look. Your voice was incredible. He’d always known how talented you were. Your stamina to dance and sing blew his mind. Then when he watched those dance moves closer, it was impossible to keep his thoughts pure. It also didn’t help that the outfits you were wearing only fueled his imagination more.

 “What’s wrong with you? You said you liked Aliya Taylor,” Amee shouted over the music.

 Plastering a smile on his face, he nodded. “Yeah, she’s great. I’m tired.” It wasn’t a complete lie.

 When you came out for the final song in a flowing low cut white gown and barefoot, he staggered backward when he envisioned you walking down a flower aisle.

 “Fucking hell!”

 All eyes snapped to him, and the curious looks on their faces only had him needing air even more.

 “I—I’m gonna get a head start to the cars.”

 Not waiting for a response, he turned and walked through the crowd, not daring to look back at you.

   -Aliya-

Amaya and Alicia laughed together at something on Amaya’s timeline. No doubt it was some picture of one of her boy toys. You sipped from your flower decorated porcelain teacup while staring out over London to the Eye. Just behind it, Big Ben stood tall and proud as it chimes for four o’clock echoed through the city. This was a city you’d spent a lot of time in thanks to your grandparents on your father’s side. Not as much time as they’d like, but there was only so much free time you had. Big Ben and the Eye were two of your favorite things about London.

 You should have been on cloud nine after another successful show and checking another thing off your extensive to-do list, but you weren’t. You felt almost as gloomy as the rolling clouds in the sky that threatened rain.

 “You seem depressed.”

 Alicia’s voice had you turning back to them you softly smiled. “I’m not.”

 “You look it,” Amaya slid home.

 Rolling your eyes, you finished your cup of tea and gently placed it on its matching saucer with a shrug. “I don’t know what to tell you then.”

 Amaya then gasped with a smile in her eyes. “I know what it is. You’re finally missing your grade A prime beef of a man.”

 Snorting, you shook your head. “Oh god. Try again.”

 “You might be right, Mya,” Leece started placed her elbows on the table to peer at you closer. “This all started the night we had dinner with him. What’s his name again?” Both of them pretended to wrack their brains to remember his name, but they knew damn well what it was.

 “Ah, Henry,” Amaya cooed, making you roll your eyes even harder.

 “Both of you stop. You’re not funny.”

 “We approve.”

 “I second that,” Alicia added.

 “What? Really?”

 “Are you kidding? Yeah. Not only is he gorgeous, like drop dead gorgeous, but he is also super nice. Throughout dinner he was very courteous and sincere. You know I’m a good people reader,” Amaya attested.

 “He’s funny, and he seemed to be genuine with his efforts to get to know Mya and me. He also was putting in effort into proving something to you.”

 Sighing, you took a few sips of your water.

 “Honestly, I couldn’t find anything wrong with him.”

 “Really? Perfection?”

 You couldn’t believe your ears. Yes, you’d suspected they liked him, but the perfect word was just uttered. It was never spoken of, not by them.

 “Pretty much,” Amaya doubled down.

 “Wow.”

 “Tell me about it. Move on that before some other chick does. He will not be single for long,” Amaya added.

 For some reason, this was the first time you’d thought about that, and you couldn’t believe it. She was right. He was gorgeous, among other things, and women already fawned over him. He wouldn’t be licking his wounds much longer. A knot formed in your gut, and a sour taste in your mouth followed. Glancing away from their penetrative gazes, you looked around the restaurant and nearly dropped the water glass when you saw Henry across the restaurant laughing. This was the first time you’d seen him in person since your breakfast in New York weeks and weeks ago, and he looked great.

Your eyes drank him up, taking their time soaking up every detail of his face, the slight stubble that decorated his chiseled jaw, his perfectly imperfect smile, his hair that fell slightly longer than you remembered. When he spoke again, you watched his mouth move and quickly got lost. You didn’t have to hear his words. You knew how he spoke them. You knew the effect his voice had. At the thought of that effect, you peeled your eyes away and tried to keep them on either Alicia, Amaya, or the table. Of course, it was impossible. Your eyes continuously found him, and it was on him they remained until you forced yourself to look away.

 “What do you keep looking at?”

 Amaya glanced around the restaurant. You knew she’d found him because when she turned to face you again, her smile was as wide as a thief's.

 “Oh ho ho, looks like fate is on mine and Leece’s side.”

 “Stop. Be cool, act natural. Don’t make a scene,” you pleaded.

 “Look at that, same place, same time, just mere feet away.”

 From the tone of her voice, you knew she was tempted to fuck with you.

 “Stop, Amaya. Don’t.”

 “Why?”

 Trying to keep your voice down and the panic from your face, you pleaded again. “Just don’t.”

 Amaya studied you for a few moments before she nodded in defeat. Relief flooded you. Though you tried, you couldn’t get your head back onto lunch and off of him no matter how you tried. The three of you left shortly after passing his table on the way out.

 Thanks to a little free time, you, Amaya, and Alicia were able to soak up some shopping in London and before getting back to the hotel for a quick change, then dinner. Even though you tried to stop thinking about Henry’s face earlier, you weren’t the least bit successful, but you played it off like everything was cool. You didn’t know if you fooled either of them, but you really didn’t care. You were so ready to get the hell out of London.

  -That Night-

Big Ben’s chime for one in the morning ringing out all around you. It was yet another night of sleeplessness. From your seat at the window, you could feel the nice breeze. It still smelled like rain, but for whatever reason, the rain was staying away. Finishing your glass of wine, you sighed out and nearly leaped out your skin when your phone rang in the quiet room.

 “Hello?”

 “What’s wrong?”

 You smiled from the unexpected sound of your gramaw’s voice. It was like the concrete gate you had around your heart that was constricting it to the point where it was challenging to breathe loosened.

 Sighing, you leaned back, reclining against the surface.

 “I think I fell in love,” you whispered.

 “In love?”

 Hearing the words said back to you made you close your eyes and shake your head.

 “Yeah, at least I think that’s what I’m feeling. I can’t sleep well, not that I could before. I feel a little depressed, and I can’t pinpoint why, but when I think about it, I feel this way when I think about him. Not to mention, I think about him all the time. Christ, I even dream about him.”

 Pausing, you glanced at your phone to find his picture there. It was the last thing you’d been looking at before tossing your phone away.

 “I truly feel like I did something wrong, like I was wrong,” you confessed.

 “Have you talked to him?”

 Hitting your head back, you groaned. “Not since he called me and told me I’m missing out on him and gave me all the reasons why I should realizing I’m missing out.”

 You couldn't help but smile at his words as you remembered them.

 “Do you feel like you’re missing out?”

 Your Gramaw always knew the right questions to ask. She was one of the few that did, one of the few that you’d even listen to. Bowing your head, you sighed again.

 “Maybe. Normally I’m sure about someone and sure that I don’t need or want them in my life, but with him—I have doubts with my snap judgment.”

 “Oh no, snap judgments are never a good thing, Aliya.”

 You groaned hearing the disappointment in her voice. “I know, jeez do I know.”

 “What do you feel like doing?”

 You scoffed, if you knew that you wouldn’t be going through this struggle.

 “I’ll be to you in a few days. I’ll see you soon.”

 “Your heart, Aliya, not your head,” she cautioned before you ended the call.

 For the next thirty or so minutes, you paced the balcony of your room as you debated with yourself over what you were going to do. After psyching yourself up as much as you could, you bit the bullet dialing Henry’s number before you talked yourself out of it. After one ring, you almost hung up but forced yourself to stick through the terror running through you. Two rings passed, then three. At the fourth you began to lower your hand to end the call and then his voice echoed through the speaker.

 “Hello?”

 You froze drawing a blank and forgetting for a moment you had a voice.

 “Hello?”

 “Hello,” you whispered.

 The rustling on his end was loud but brief.

 “Aliya?”

 Swallowing the lump, you took a deep breath. “Yeah. Hi.”

 “It’s after one in the morning. Is everything all right? Are you hurt?”

 Your heart lurched, and a soft smile spread across your lips. “Yeah, I’m okay. I’m not hurt,” you assured.

 He sighed, then yawned.

 “I uh—I know it’s late or early. I know you, um, probably have something better to do than be up. I’m sorry if I woke you,” you half rushed and stuttered out.

 “You’re rambling, Aliya.” You stopped your pacing then and slapped your forehead.

 “Yes, I am. I do that when I’m nervous,” you blurted.

 “Why are you nervous?”

 Pausing, you gripped the rail on the balcony and used it to center yourself and get your nerves under control.

 “Well, I’m about to ask the man I told I wouldn’t be with to meet me somewhere at nearly two in the morning. I’m—sending major mixed signals.”

 Henry didn’t speak right away. Instead, he waited, making you chew your bottom lip as your anxiety increased.

 “Why?”

 “Wh—why? Why what?”

 “Why should I?”

 Stunned, your jaw dropped. “Oh, wow, out with the hard questions. Okay. Um—well—you should meet me because uh—it’s not often that I realize I was wrong or did something wrong and when I realize that, I like to say so.”

 Again the silence over the phone stretched for long moments. After a full minute of it, your anxiety peaked.

 “Still there?”

 Henry sighed. “I’m here. I’m thinking.”

 His voice sounded so deliciously deep. Either you had woken him, and this was his sleepy voice, or he was purposely giving you that sexy baritone.

 “By all means. Think as long as you need to. Um—I’ll be at the eye until 2:30. I um—I hope you show. If you don’t, I understand, really I do and no hard feelings.”

 Quickly you ended the call and panted as if you’d been running a marathon all in an effort to calm yourself down. It had been years since you’d put yourself through something like that, and you had a feeling it was only the beginning of you making amends.

Being Aliya Taylor afforded you some perks, and one was being able to have access to the eye well after closing. All it took was one call, well two to be exact, and voila, you were sitting in one of the cars anxiously waiting for Henry. You had no idea if he’d show, and the more and more time that passed with him not magically appearing, the more and more your brain worked overtime. The scenery helped a lot, but when you glanced at your watch and saw that it was almost 2:30, the scenery could do no more. Your nerves and anxiety had erupted like a volcano.

 “You shouldn’t be out here alone.”

 Spinning, you saw Henry at the door still on the platform. You released a relieved sigh, realizing he hadn’t stood you up.

 “Good thing I’m not—anymore.”

 Henry stepped into the car and took a few steps to you but stopped when he was still a ways away.

 “London after two is not safe,” Henry informed.

 “I know.”

 The doors closed, and the contraption began moving.

 “How in the world did you get them to open this for you?”

 Smiling, you shrugged. “I may know people in high places,” you replied, which made him smile.

“This is one of my favorite places in London,” you announced as you walked around the car, taking care not to get too close. You didn’t know if you could handle it right away, and you had to feel him out to see what his coming really meant.

 “Why?”

 “You can see all of greater London from here and out to the countryside if you really look once you’re up high.”

 Henry also walked around the car, mirroring your intentions. Neither of you came close enough to touch one another.

 “How often do you come to London?”

 “A lot. I have some family here, plus I prefer the countryside.”

 “So you have some British blood,” Henry inquired, half a question, half a statement.

 “I had to. Only the Bris would dare think to send their daughters off to finishing school,” you quipped.

 Henry’s laugh filled the car, making you smile widely. He walked to one of the many windows turning his back to you. Slowly you looked over his broad back, taking in every detail. Your fingers could still remember what the dance of his muscles felt like underneath them, and they itched to feel them dance again. Taking a deep breath, you fiddled your fingers.

 “Uh--I hope I didn’t interrupt anything important by asking you here. Like I hope I didn’t impose on—anyone.”

 You were fishing, it was obvious, and you felt no shame.

 “Eh, who needs sleep anyway. I can sleep when I’m dead,” Henry replied with a shrug of those magnificent shoulders still keeping his back to you.

 “Were um--were you uh—sleeping—alone?”

 Your heart was pounding so loudly you could swear he could hear it. He didn’t speak or turn around. He just stood there torturing you. You wondered if he knew it was sheer torture what he was doing. Did he even care? The longer he remained quiet, the more you freaked out until you decided to backtrack all the way back.

“I’m sorry. Don’t answer that. It is absolutely none of my business. I don’t even know why I asked that,” you rushed out, rubbing your forehead from embarrassment before beginning to pace the car.

 That was when Henry chose to turn around.

 “I know a woman doesn’t say something she doesn’t mean, and usually when a woman asks a question, she wants to know the answer either to prove herself right or in hopes she’s wrong. What is it for you?”

 His voice made you stop in the midst of pacing to watch his mouth as he spoke. There was something poetic about how he spoke, and it always distracted you. Nibbling your bottom lip, you thought about how to respond. You were already tired of the verbal Olympics and talking around each other.

 Sighing, you rolled your eyes. “Henry--.”

 “You know that’s the first time you’ve said my name without the word goodbye in front of it.”

 That made you snap your mouth shut. Had it?

 “That’s not true,” you protested.

 “It actually is. I was beginning to think you like saying goodbye rather than hello.”

 You took a step to him. “That’s not true. I like saying hello way more than goodbye,” you defended.

 The neutral look on his face gave you no confidence to go on, so you rolled your eyes and continued to walk around the car. This would be harder than you expected, you thought.

 “I was sleeping alone. I’ve slept alone for quite some time now,” he informed just as you were looking out of the window to the city.

 “Look, Henry, I-,” you began again, but then henry cut you off.

 “That day in New York those weeks ago, I should have plain and simply laid it out for you. I should have told you everything. I was with Francesca--.”

 “Don’t, don’t, don’t. I honestly don’t want to know.”

 “But you need to know. There is no way you can begin to trust me or begin to let yourself gravitate to me the way you’re entire being wants until you know,” Henry slid out. Pressing your palm to your abdomen, you tried to slow the butterflies that began flitting.

 “I was with Francesca for about two years. The whole time I knew she wanted a family in life. She was always vocal about her wanting to get married young and have kids. I knew, but I never paid attention to it. I was away filming something for a while, and when I came home one weekend, I caught her with someone else.”

 Your eyes widened, hearing his words.

 “turns out she was beginning a relationship with someone else, someone who she thought would lead to marriage and kids,” Henry added. His voice held steady, but you could imagine the pain going through those memories again.

 “I’m sorry.”

 Henry shook his head, “It’s not necessary. After a few months of her trying to make amends, I thought we’d try again.” He scoffed then rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m a hopeless romantic. After months of trying, I knew it wouldn’t work, but I kept a relationship of sorts with her.”

 You understood. They were bed buddies.

 “I then met Abby, and what started as a fling developed into something more. Long story short, I got wind of a rumor she was using me for fame and money, so I distanced myself from her. after some time of her telling I had it all wrong, I decided it was easier keeping her around though my heart wasn’t in it. I wasn’t juggling them. I hadn’t slept with either of them in a long time. I just—I felt it was better to have someone who misses me and wants me than living the lonely actor life.”

 His honesty had you frozen. When he began to explain, you hadn’t expected him to reveal so much. You expected a bare minimum explanation, but what you’d gotten revealed so much more about him. You felt bad.

 “I guess allowing the attentions and affections to remain is just as bad as juggling them. I was playing with their hearts. I’m not proud of it.”

 Henry dipped his head, showing he felt some shame for his actions.

 “When I met you, I realized although I had these two women sort of vying for me, I was still lonely, but those moments we were together, I didn’t feel alone. I felt--,” he paused as if trying to find the right word. His hesitation made you look down.

 You knew what you’d felt.

 “When I met you, I felt someone I’d never felt before, something I don’t fully understand. I don’t know what that means, but I know I want to find out—with you.”

 Finally, able to release the breath you held, you took another, then cleared your throat. “I’m not juggling two guys. I was dating two guys, but not sleeping with both. I was with Liam first, and we had an okay relationship. We were busy, never saw each other and when we did it wasn’t for long. He um—he got annoyed and broke up with me. He said I was impacting his work, and he needed to focus.”

 You remembered how he’d said it too. He’d said it like you were the one to blame for the roles he’d gotten or hadn’t gotten.

 “I was fine with it, and during those five months apart, I met Jesse. We worked together and had fun and began dating. It wasn't anything sexual. Then Liam comes back and wants to pick up where we left off. I told him about Jesse, and he was fine with it.”

 The shock on Henry’s face almost made you laugh. Alicia and Amaya were also surprised they’d chosen that unconventional path. Amaya, of course, thought you should have kept it secret from both of them.

 “One day, Jesse sees Liam and me out, and it pissed him off enough to end things. Three weeks later, I lay it out for both that I don’t want to choose, and I don’t want anything serious. They were both fine with it, and so it went on. Six months later, I decided I needed to be on my own to focus on work and me. They didn’t like the decision. They call and text me to try to—rekindle something.”

 Henry scoffed, and you watched a soft smile tickle his lips.

 “I haven’t physically seen either of them in weeks, now maybe months,” you finished.

 Henry was quiet for a few seconds before he snorted.

 “They were mad.”

 “Angry?”

 “No, mad, bonkers,” Henry clarified.

 “Oh, crazy.”

 “Yeah. To be okay to share you, be willing to do something like that. I couldn’t do that,” Henry informed, making you smile in the process.

 “Well, men do crazy things.”

 “I can attest to that, but I’d never do something that crazy. I can’t share what’s mine. I won’t.”

 Your eyes locked, and your body swayed toward his. It was like he was metal and you a magnet. Everything in you wanted to be close to him. The more you tried to fight the pull, the harder it became to breathe. The harder it was to breathe, the dizzier you became.

 “I—I—I—I,” you began before gulping the knot in your throat down that was making you speak in a raspy whisper. “I don’t—know what this is.”

 Henry nodded.

 “I am not used to not knowing and being out of control,” you continued.

 “You feel less controlled too?”

 You couldn't help but to nod. Once you did, Henry took a step to you. You took a step back.

 “Hold on. I like control. I like control a lot. Anything that threatens that control is not for me.”

 Henry’s eyes lowered but only for a moment before he was looking right back into yours.

 “But—I really want to find out why you make me less controlled,” you finally admitted.

 The uncertainty on his face spoke volumes.  “What does that mean? Where does that leave this—us?”

 You chewed your bottom lip; you realized how ill-prepared you’d been.

 “Honestly, I didn’t think this meeting out that far. I only planned up to when you showed up. I’ve um—I’ve been winging it this whole time.”

 His smile started small but spread wide in seconds; then, he laughed loudly.

 “So you won’t mind me making a plan?”

 Oh lord, you thought, feeling his alpha pop out. You bit your bottom lip again.

 “What kind of plan?”

 Henry closed the remaining space between you. Every step he took had you shaking even more.

 “A plan that I’ve envisioned every night since brunch.”

Stopped in front of you and held you captivated by his gaze and the sheer dominating energy rolling off of him. The way he stood there taller than you made your mouth run dry.

 “Jesus, you’re freakishly short,” Henry teased in his perfect Englishman voice.

 Smiling, you shook your head. “I know, I debated wearing heels but didn’t—I wanted you to see me normal for someone reason I don’t under--.”

 Henry’s sudden movement cut you off. He dipped down the entire foot he overshadowed you and lifted you into the air to hold you flush against his body. Then he lowered his lips to yours, taking and keeping control of an intensely passionate kiss. A kiss you hadn’t known you craved until it began, a kiss you were not prepared for. You moaned against his lips, and that moan triggered his. Wrapping your arm around his neck, you clung to him, and every sensation you were feeling and even new ones he was awakening within you.

 Slowly, Henry pulled his lips from your, but he kept your body to his. You kept your eyes closed, relishing the lingering effects.

 “You’re shaking,” Henry whispered.

 “So are you.”

 You opened your eyes and gazed into his as he slowly lowered you back to your feet.

 “What else is part of your plan?”

 Henry's smile spread across his face. “For me to carry out any other part of my plan would be completely rakish of  me.”

 His smile was adorable, but still intimidatingly sexy.

 “I take it you’re not a rake.”

 “Not in the least.”

 “All right. So, alternate plan?”

 He smiled again. “Still pretty rakish.”

 With that, he brought his lips back to yours, but this time he didn’t pull back for several long minutes.

 Though you knew people in high places, it didn’t mean you could keep the eye open all morning. After three trips around, the two of you got off then walked around London holding hands and eating ice cream. It was such a weird sensation allowing someone to hold your hand. It had been a long time since you’d ever wanted to. The entire time you laughed and talked about everything and nothing at the same time. One thing was clear; neither of you was in any rush for your time together to end.

 But end, it had to. When Henry walked you back to your hotel, it was almost time for the sun to come up.

 “Home safe and sound,” Henry joked.

 “Yes, thanks to Superman.”

 “No, no, I’m just the man. Henry Cavill.”

 He held his hand out to you. Smiling, you rolled your eyes.

 “Now is when we get to this?”

 His goofy smile and shrug had your head skip a beat.

 “Aliya Taylor,” you said, shaking his hand.

 “Nice to meet you. Mind if I call you Aliya or Liya, that's all a mouthful,” Henry teased.

 Your laugh was loud, and you had to clamp your hand over your mouth, remembering what time it was.

 “Yes, you can call me either. Can I call you Henners or Hank?”

 “No. My friends call me that.”

 “So, I’m not your friend?”

 “If I have anything to say about it, which I do, then no. I don’t want you as a friend.” Henry replied, making you smile like a little girl at Christmas.

 “Then what do you want me as?”

 Your eyes lingered for a few seconds before Henry was pulling you closer to brush the back of his hand against your cheek.

 “For now, I’ll settle for my girlfriend.”

 The man was an expert at charm. You bit into your bottom lip and tried to stop smiling. “Girlfriend, wow. That’s a loaded title. What does it entail?”

 “Well, for one, it entails being your true self with me, accepting my true self, being there for me when I need you, letting me be there for you when you need me or when I need you, allowing me to be your strength when you’re weak, your hope when you’re hopeless. Allowing me to grow with you, learn with you. Giving me your time and attention, enough of it so what we have can grow. Trusting me and letting me spoil you rotten.”

 If he weren’t holding you against him, you would have fallen back.

 “Is that all?”

 Henry leaned closer kisses your cheek. “To begin.”

 “And if I refused to be this girlfriend you speak of?”

 “Then I’d just have to convince you,” Henry cooed.

 “How?”

 Right on que, Henry dipped his lips to yours. The second they touched, you moaned and held him close. Why resist when you could enjoy it, you thought. His tongue swirled with yours before he nibbled then sucked your bottom lip. When he pulled back, your eyes remained closed.

 “I’m convinced.”

 Henry pecked your lips once, then twice. “Good. Girlfriend.”

 Your eyes locked again, and you forgot all common sense for what felt like an eternity.

 “Eh-em—I have to be on a set in the morning.”

 “Which is now,” Henry filled in.

 Still hazed in the brain, you stuttered and smiled like a fool.

 “Mm, did I stay out all night?”

 “You did. I hope it was worth it.”

 Smiling, you kissed his jaw. “We’ll see,” you whispered as you backed away from him, making your way to the door.

 “Good morning, Henry.”

 He smiled again, watching you disappear inside the hotel. As you walked to the elevator bank, you couldn’t stop smiling or stop the butterflies that had been flying all night in your stomach. As you stepped onto the elevator and watched the doors closed, you recognized the feeling you felt as happiness. It had been absent for a long time.

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

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[wlw-lovestruck-fiction]

PROMPT: Followup to How do you think Euryale would court the MC? #knifewifesquad

WARNINGS: Somewhat OOC 

characters Mentions of blood Crimes against fashion 

Unhealthy/Predatory Behaviors 

Reference to Greek Mythology 

Potential Spoilers for Routes 

Written by @evoedbd 

 *****************************************************************

Alisha’s answer was gorgeous. There was no other word that summed up everything that ran through her mind. Cute, delicate, fiery, marblesque… all fell under that uniquely gorgeous category. In a manner beyond human or Godly monster, or any Alisha had seen in her brief life.

The first thing to captivate her was unimaginably expressive eyes. Gems the colour of peach, dancing a fine line between pink and brown. Pale and captivating. Shock blew them wide, even as a weariness hardened them, and something void of sanity swum in their pale depths. There was something innocent about them, how large and clear they were perhaps, topped by a petite brow that seemed to carry the weight of the world and pale hair a shade between winter sunshine and summer dried grass. Hair with a short cut, wispy fringe and hanging in girlish pigtails tucked between delicate little ears… with little earrings shaped like a butcher’s knife from a murder scene, complete with photo realistic colour decal. The Alice in wonderland went batshit crazy theme continued with a lavender summers dress, ending just above delicate knees, leaving little black shoes suited to a child on display. Shoes bathed in blood; little bows knocked askew.

“Who are you?” The woman demanded; voice shrill. Soft looking lips, only half coated with a dappling of peach lipstick, peeled back from teeth. Sharp teeth. Teeth with the top canines extended almost like fangs, though evidently within the human vein of acceptable. An adorable, proud yet dainty nose turned upwards, thin nostrils flaring as if scenting the air for the next kill. So, it was becoming apparently clear Alice should never have left wonderland… but even on the rampage, her unique appearance still fell in gorgeous. Godly even. As if carved from the finest marble, then drizzled with a faint layer of gold so she gleamed in the light.

“That was a stupid question. I know who you are. What the hell were you thinking? Just barging in here like that! I could have turned you into… well, a museum piece! Do you know how many museum pieces my sisters have donated?”

Something about the way she spoke of museum pieces made Alisha feel entirely uneasy. As if these pieces could feel… but that would mean… oh. Oh no. Please no.

Alisha went to open her mouth, went to speak, only for an utterly confused squeak to escape. Enough to make her want to facepalm. She was usually calm and rational, heck she faced down Hercules on the daily, but some insane chick had her squeaking. How was that even a thing? Well, she had to be real. She had a real-life Godly Monster, someone so potent she had etched her name in history, in her living room. So, she had it down to one out of three to guess from, but what would happen if she got it wrong? She had to think carefully, try to piece everything together on the fly. A beauty carved of stone, who spoke of statues as if they were living beings, with sharpened teeth? A woman who had an unhealthy obsession with knives and inflicting pain on demigods… or anything really… anybody? Why was Alisha still looking into her eyes?

“I’m sorry, I don’t know who you a- you’re hurt.” She’d started carefully, tilting her gaze cautiously to avoid looking as intimidated as she was, only to notice the black patch against the woman’s ribcage. No matter who, no matter what she was, she was hurt. She was bleeding all over her own shoes. Over Alisha’s furniture. And she was kind of sweet, even with the psychotic side. This was a woman who’d left helpful messages and items to support Alisha through some tough times. It made sense now why the acts were humanly inappropriate. Could Alisha really hold cultural differences against an injured woman?

“No I’m not!” The woman’s snappiness made Alisha’s heart jump. Her insides lurched, every droplet of blood trying to relocate an inch to the left. Yet, somehow, she didn’t move a muscle. The HERA agent simply stood her ground, extending her hand as she pointed to the dark patch against the lavender.

“What’s that then?” Alisha demanded, watching the other woman lower her gaze. Peach eyes fixed on the wound for a split second, lips pursing in clear irritation. Something about it had Alisha thinking the irritation was more for the dress than the cut.

“It’s a flesh wound.”

… apparently Alisha was right.

“That’s still hurt!” Alisha finally snapped, her exasperation bursting through her human instinct to fear the godly.

“Are you calling me weak?” The woman’s sharp demand was accompanied by an earthquake worthy shift in her attitude. The peach in her eyes shrunk, the band of colour narrowing down to pinpoints even as her eyes blew wide. A crazed monster, matched by the rows of unnaturally sharp teeth, which she had bared in a wide mouthed snarl. Something Alisha couldn’t help but smile at. Granted, she probably should have been revaluating her strategy given there was also a giant leopard seal snarling from her couch, with teeth for days and murder in its lavender eyes, embraced by a halo of lavender that betrayed it was definitely this woman’s aura… but, of course, Alisha didn’t. The longer she stared at the flex of aura, for every breath of salt and brine she inhaled, she could feel an answering tide within her. It swelled in her chest, overcoming her entire being, washing away all possibility and competition until it was the only thing that could escape her.

“Euryale.” The name tasted so right. How a word could have taste, Alisha couldn’t begin to explain. Yet, the way it rolled across her tongue, how it made her lips caress the syllables… it was the tide, an ebb and flow, the rolling of waves in her mouth to which Alisha was helpless to resist. The ancient name held such wonder, such elegance, something delicate and something fierce. Of course this was Euryale. How could Alisha have ever thought otherwise? She lacked the force of Stheno, nor held the renowned grace of Medusa. Euryale was potent emotion. The myths of her cries crumbling stone played in the back of Alisha’s mind, for if she were stone, she truly doubted she could handle anguish in such a raw form. Not if Euryale expressed it like she expressed her irritation.

“You’re not weak, at all, but you are hurt. I don’t understand any of what is going on, why you’ve been leaving me messages, or why you’re hurt, but you are hurt. I need to help you. I’m not about to turn you over to H.E.R.A. If you’d wanted to hurt me, you wouldn’t have sent me all those nice things. You’d have already done it. For now, that’s enough for me to trust you. Can you now trust me?” Alisha’s words were spoken gently, as one might speak to a nervy colt. She could only watch as peach reclaimed white, swelling until there was barely white left. Those gorgeous eyes glistened, oceans beginning to trickle from them before everything withdrew. Then, the scent was only a memory. The seal as tangible as a dream one couldn’t quite remember after waking.

“You don’t know… was my intent not clear?” The Gorgon questioned, lower lip trembling as she pouted. Alisha could only shake her head.

“Charybdis and Prime told me that lines of courtship were still done in human society! They even had me spend hours memorising hundreds of atrocious lines that I might woo you properly! They said romantic notes held universal intent!” Euryale went from mopey to utterly infuriated within a blink, stamping her little black flats into the pool of blood and salt water. Alisha could only blink.

“You were… you were attempting to hit on me?”

“I spent days researching the languages of the finest poets under their guidance, only for you not to understand their complexity?” The Gorgon continued. Alisa could only bite her lip, struggling not to laugh.

“You… googled pickup lines?”

Euryale’s cheeks flushed.

“Prime told me that was how you wooed in this era!” Euryale whined, crossing her arms defensively across her chest. With every frustrated huff, her murderous little earrings jingled, making Alisha’s struggle to keep her composure that much harder.

“And stabbed them into my door? For weeks…”

“I read delivery should be given personal flare! Stheno said I should be direct!”

Well… she was direct alright.

“By stabbing my door… for weeks…” Alisha reiterated, voice lacking emotion. Aphrodite was going to have a field day with this. May was probably already planning friendfictons… Alisha could only facepalm.

“I had to research your patterns for months to establish an appropriate time schedule-”

“Are you confessing to stalking me? For months?” Alisha had to cut in. So, that explained some things, probably should have freaked her out too… but could she completely fault this adorable creature? Ok, so it was unquestionably out of line, something that Alisha would have to have some strong words with Euryale about, and Euryale was a poster child for sweet but psycho… but it was somehow charming too. Euryale looked very much like a teenager grumbling about a crush. All the social floundering, the sincere effort put into it. So, things were very lost in translation, but… it was kind of endearing watching an ancient godly monster try to act like a twenty-year-old.

“I was observing! I had to perfect the wedding gifts.”

“Wedding…?”

“The exchange of blades? A proposal? You accepted them… you didn’t know their meaning, did you?”

Again, Alisha could only shake her head. No. Nope. Absolutely no clue.

What followed was a tirade of ancient Greek, spoken so vehemently it could be nothing but the most enthusiastic of cussing fits. It was accompanied by little stamps and huffs, so reminiscent of a toddler throwing a tantrum that Alisha was caught between cooing at the more twee aspects of the scenario or blushing at the few phrases she could roughly understand. She did neither. Before she could decide, Euryale’s foot came down that bit too hard in her previous mess, splattering little pink droplets across the floor. Her shoe slid through the puddle, sending the Gorgon sprawling onto the couch with the grace of a beached whale, and a terrified yelp that cut Alisha to the core. Before Euryale could stop it, a pitiful whine escaped her, degrading Alisha’s mind to one goal.

Comfort.

She sprang into action, reaching to press her hands tightly to the wound even as she broke into babbling.

“Hey, hey, hey! I am sure you’re really lovely, and would make a wonderful, erm, soulmate. But I haven’t really gotten to know you, and I really appreciate the knives, but I’m not ready for marriage… maybe we could start with something simple? Like coffee?” It was after her verbal outpouring that Alisha realised this was the first time she was touching Euryale.  Months of gifts and messages had finally led to this.  It should have been ground-breaking; Alisha had expected the moment to erode the mountains.  Expected her heart to seize in her chest… but everything was still.  The heat of blood and comfortable curve of Euryale’s body didn’t leave her brain melted.  Didn’t feel monumental the way she’d expected.  It was natural, just like the act of taking breath, as if she’d been born to do precisely this.

“Coffee?” The hopeful yet confused way Euryale muttered that had Alisha practically melting. How was this twee little psychopath so adorable?

“Yep. Maybe some dinners, or some movies? Oh, do you have a phone?”

“A… phone?”

“So we can call and text. I adore the gifts, but I can’t afford to keep replacing the door, not to mention if someone breaks in, I’m only human.”

“You’re Hera.” The Gorgon whispered, looking into Alisha’s eyes. Again, the peach had swallowed the white, brimming with such profound sorrow that Alisha couldn’t resist leaning closer to press her lips to the Gorgon’s forehead.

“I’m still only human… so, coffee?”

“Coffee.” Euryale agreed, lips pulling into a timid smile. Before either woman could process more, The Gorgon flinched, a hiss escaping between her teeth.

“And bandages?” Alisha suggested, earning some form of snort from Euryale to accompany the flush to her cheeks and the growing little smile.

“Bandages are good.”

In hindsight, Alisha probably should have asked what had happened, but she was far too lost in that gorgeous smile, in that beautiful moment of vulnerability, to do anything more than come to two very startling conclusions.

One - she was the biggest sapphic disaster to ever walk the earth.

Two - If Euyrale didn’t stop being so endearing, Alisha was absolutely fucked.

[angst-fairygodmother]

Dancing the Night Away (Nathan Young x Reader)

A/N: so, dear readers, this first foray into Misfits is based on something I did while studying abroad in Ireland and spending a weekend touring Belfast and surrounding areas. Except reality ended less romantically... Also, I am writing this on the train and know exactly 0 things about mobile formatting, nor do I have a spell check and a word count, so I'm gonna try, but if I fuck it up, I'll fix that stuff Sunday night or Monday. Word Count: 993 Content Warnings: references to alcohol/drinking heavily, swearing

Nathan watched Y/N as she sashayed clumsily down the street, her arms thrown over an equally drunk Kelly and Alisha. (Even in their inebriation, both girls were careful to make sure Y/N's flannel - suspiciously identical to Nathan's missing one - stayed pulled down and Alisha's collar was turned up.)

"A night like this, man," he muttered, smiling fondly, "shame it has to end."

Curtis gave him a funny look and Simon flashed him an awkward smile but nodded in agreement, and Nathan realized he had spoken out loud. Before he could play it off properly, something caught Y/N's attention and she gasped, tilting her head to listen more carefully.

"Ooh, do you hear that?" She squealed, a wide grin splitting across her face and her eyes sparkling with delight.

"Wot?" Kelly asked, face scrunching in confusion.

"Someone's playing their music too loud," Alisha drawled. "So what?"

"That is not just any music, oh prettiest friend," Y/N countered, words matter-of-fact despite the slur in her voice, pointing a finger in Alisha's face. "That is music that it is actually illegal not to sing and dance to. And since we just got done with it all, we don't want to break the law again do we?"

She punctuated the question with a dramatic twirl, starting to shimmy to the beat, which was now loud enough and close enough that they could all hear it clearly. Nathan found himself transfixed by the sway of her hips, mouth falling slightly open as he imagined them moving that way while pressed against him.

"Just one look and I can hear a bell ring, one more look and I forget everything," Y/N belted out, gesturing dramatically as she continued to twirl. "Woah-oh-oh!"

Nathan reached out instinctively as if he could stop her from crashing into the bin that sat directly in her path, despite the fact that he and the other guys had been walking several paces behind the girls and Y/N had pulled even further ahead in her enthusiasm. He braced himself for the carnage. Instead, he watched, stunned and impressed as she turned the collision into an elaborate shuffling shimmy.

"Oh come on guys," she whined, finally noticing that she was the only one dancing or singing. "How are you all just walking along? Where is your rhythm, your spark, your jive?"

"The fook are you on about, Y/N?" Kelly snapped.

"Doesn't this music just mooove you?" She asked, more excited (and drunk) than they had ever seen her.

"No," Alisha said with a roll of her eyes and a shake of her head. "This is old people music."

"Party poopers." Y/N turned to the noticeably silent boys. "What about you lot?"

"I don't dance," Curtis said bluntly.

Y/N stuck her tongue out at him petulantly.

"Are you okay, Y/N?" Simon asked nervously. "You're acting very strangely. I think you might have been drugged..."

"Oh sweet Simon," she laughed. "Always so concerned about all of us. I am high on the drug of life tonight!" She threw her hands into the air with a cheer.

"You're gonna get arrested for disturbin the peace and end up right back on community service," Kelly barked. "Keep your voice down."

Y/N flapped her hand dismissively at the blonde before planting her fists on her hips and turning to Nathan.

"I suppose you're going to have some excuse too?"

"Oh no," he drawled, eyes flickering over her form in the streetlight's glow, lingering where her hemline had ridden dangerously high from all her bouncing about. "I am feeling very moved."

He flashed her a dramatic wink and a smirk.

She giggled before wagging her finger at him playfully. "Don't you go getting any fresh ideas, Nathan Young."

"I am being nothing but a perfect gentleman. And I am hurt that you would even suggest otherwise."

The track changed, catching Y/N's attention once more as her face lit up, seemingly forgetting about him mid-flirtation, which left him feeling actually hurt, as she bopped and belted along.

Until suddenly she caught his hand and twirled herself into his arms, back pressed to his chest, nearly toppling them both as he startled. He found himself staring down at her as she gazed up at him, eyes wide and lips parted.

"Oh I wanna dance with somebody," the distant radio crooned, "with somebody who loves me..."

"Well hello there," he said, smiling.

"Hi," she answered breathlessly.

He chose to believe it was because of the way he was holding her close, arms wrapped snuggly around her waist and pressing her to him, and not because of the dancing. Just like he decided that the heated flush he could feel rising off her cheeks as he leaned in was on his account and not because of the ten - or was it twelve? - vodka-cranberries she'd had.

He forced his eyes away from hers to glance around, relieved to see that the others had gotten sick of the pair of them and kept walking.

Hungrily, he spun Y/N to face him and pressed his lips to hers, groaning as she detangled her fingers from his and buried them immediately in his hair instead. He ran his tongue over her lower lip, diving in greedily when she parted for him. A slow, teasing grind of his hips had her moaning and tugging on his curls to pull him closer.

"So love," he smirked, pulling away just enough to taunt her with the brush of his lips as he spoke. "Your place or mine?"

"They're the same place, you oaf," she laughed, making him pout.

"I was trying to be sexy."

"You are," she muttered, shaking her head ruefully. "The absolute sexiest."

"Oh really?" He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

"Shut up and take me home already." She rolled her eyes.

"As you command." He grabbed her hand, lacing their fingers back together, tugging her down the street eagerly, followed by the greatest hits of the 80s.

[randomestfandoms-ocs]

Teen Wolf Masterlist (K-Z)

(A-J)

Name: Kailani Mahealani

Story: The Whole Of The Moon

Species: Redacted

Face claim:  Auli’i Cravalho

Name: Kiana Tate

Story: Wild Girl

Species: Werecoyote

Face claim:  Phoebe Tonkin

Love Interest: Isaac Lahey & Scott McCall

Summary: It was pure luck that had kept Kiana Tate out of the accident that killed her mother and sisters.  Pure luck and severe food poisoning.   But really, Kiana was never sure if being the one to live made her the lucky one or not — after all, she was the one left behind.  For the next several years, it was just Kiana and her dad, and she was okay with that.  Really, she was okay with that.  She had to be.  But one day, everything changes.  A girl is found dead in the woods; Scott and Stiles start acting weirder than usual, mountain lions start attacking people left and right; and, to top it all off, she’s losing her mind.  How else could anyone explain the hulking beast that she keeps thinking she sees, or the red eyes stalking her from the edge of the forest?

Name: Lanie Benson

Story: Golden

Species: Human

Face claim:  Meg Donnelly

Love Interest: Liam Dunbar

Summary: Lanie Benson was, and had always been, as normal as normal could be.  Sure, she lived in a supernatural hotspot, but she wasn’t a part of that world — in fact, she only knew that it existed because of a prank, leaving her alone in the preserve in the middle of the night, face to face with a real life werewolf.  But that wasn’t her world, so she’d smiled and waved and raced back home, pretending it had never happened.  She never wanted anything to do with any of the things that go bump in the night, so why, once she realises that Liam Dunbar is the newest werewolf in town, can’t she stay away?

Name: Luna Hale

Story: Beautiful Ghosts

Species: Werewitch

Face claim:  Danielle Campbell

Love interest: Isaac Lahey, eventual Scott McCall

Summary:  When the Hale House burned down, Cora ran.  Laura and Derek ran too, the other way.  They didn’t even check for survivors; but there were two. Peter Hale, barely conscious, shielding his then seven year old niece with his body.  While Peter would be comatose for almost a decade, Luna only had to heal from the burns and smoke inhalation, before she was immediately taken in by her godmother–Claudia Stilinski.  She changed her name to Stilinski, of course, in case any hunters tried to finish the job, and most of Beacon Hills didn’t know that she’d ever been anyone else.  And she could have maintained that illusion for the rest of her life, had her idiot brother not dragged she and their best friend Scott out to look for a body.

Name: Natasha Reyes

Story: Rebirth

Species: Redacted

Face claim:  Zoey Deutch

Love Interest: Derek Hale

Summary: Despite expectations, Natasha Reyes had never resented her sister. Yes, her parents paid a lot more attention to Erica, but Erica was also sick and needed a lot more help. She would never blame Erica for that, and she was perfectly fine with the way things were. At least, until Erica suddenly stopped being sick, got super hot and bitchy, and started treating Natasha like shit. But just when Natasha started to get used to the new status quo, she got hit by a car. And Natasha Reyes died.

Name: Percy Flowers

Story: Eternal

Species: Demigoddess

Face claim:  Vanessa Morgan

Love Interest: Scott McCall

Summary: When Percy said that she wanted to end things with Brett, she didn’t mean that she wanted him to be nearly murdered by supernatural assassins, thank you. But nonetheless, the near assassination set her off on a path that she never could have seen coming; a path of family mysteries, cute werewolves, dead pools, and an impossible heritage. Her only comfort is knowing that Amara is in the same boat as she is, even if it means that they’re both on a hit list now too.

Name: Phoebe Winchester

Story: Untitled

Face claim: Lily Collins

*supernatural crossover

Name: Rae Archambeau

Story: Untitled

Species: Redacted

Face claim: Alisha Wainwright

Love interest: Derek Hale

Name: Raegan Stilinski

Story: Regrets Collect

Species: Human

Face claim: Jennifer Morrison

Love interest: Chris Argent

Summary:  Raegan Stilinski had never planned on moving back to Beacon Hills.  She had graduated high school, and then fled to pursue her dream of working for the FBI.  She kept in touch with her older brother, went to Claudia’s funeral, and Stiles spend a month every summer staying with her, but Beacon Hills was in her past, and Raegan was looking forward.  Until her latest assignment sends her straight back home to investigate the recent oddities in the usually quiet small town.  Stiles being in the middle of it doesn’t surprise her in the slightest but coming face to face with her ex boyfriend Chris, and finding out that he’s somehow involved in the whole mess?  Well, that might be a bit of a surprise.

Name: Raffi Connery

Story: Feral

Species: Redacted

Face claim: Kiernan Shipka

Name: Rianna Deaton

Story: True North

Species: Druid

Face claim: Kat Graham

Love Interest: Derek Hale

Summary: Rianna Deaton had loved Beacon Hills, she really did.  She had loved growing up with her brother Alan, had loved training to be the Hales’ future emissary, and had loved Derek Hale with all her heart.  But when the fire claimed almost the entire Hale pack, Rianna had to leave.  With Derek and Laura gone, Peter in a coma, and everyone else dead, the ghosts of her lost family were too much for her to take.  So she called her sister, who talked Deucalion into letting the young druid travel with the Alpha Pack.  They were horrible, and Rianna hated it, but she forced herself to put up with it — there was no place for her in Beacon Hills anymore.  Or so she thought, until the whispers reached her ear that Derek Hale was the new alpha of Beacon Hills, and Rianna knew that it was time to go home.

Name: Jarosława “Scout” Stilinski

Story: (When We Fall) We Rise Again

Species: Redacted

Face claim: Lucy Hale

Love Interest: Isaac Lahey & Scott McCall

Summary: The Stilinski twins are survivors, they always have been.  Sure, roll your eyes, the spastic nerdy loser and his vapidly popular twin sister, survivors?  But they are.  They survived losing their mother.  They survived their father’s period of alcoholism.  They survived being on opposite ends of the social ladder in high school.  And now Stiles is pulling away from Scout, and keeping secrets for the first time in their lives.  But, they’ll survive that too, even if it’s the last thing they do.  The Stilinski twins have survived everything life has thrown at them, they can survive werewolves, hunters, and long lost family secrets.

Name: Selena McCall

Story: The Moon And Her Wolf

AO3 | FFNet | Wattpad

Species: Human

Face claim:  Emeraude Toubia

Love interest: Derek Hale

Summary:  The moment she turned 18, Selena McCall was out of Beacon Hills and on her way to New York. Religion, mythology, and occultism had fascinated her ever since she found out about the werewolves in Beacon Hills and it was a no brainer to choose NYU, with one of the best programs she could find. Imagine her shock, though, when she sits next to Derek Hale on her first day, the same Derek Hale who’d been her best friend right up until the point he disappeared off the face of the Earth. It took no time at all to rekindle their bond, or to find a second family with the last surviving Hales. Everything is perfect. Then Laura goes missing. Selena is right by Derek’s side the moment he starts for California, determined to find her pseudo-sister. Except, back in her home town, nothing is how she left it, and Selena finds herself torn between her baby brother and her best friend, with no clue how to keep either, let alone both, of them alive.

Name: Sylvia Hale

Story: H(a)unt

Species: Werewolf

Face claim:  Claire Holt

Love Interest: Avril Argent

Summary: After her family was brutally murdered in a fire, and her father left comatose, Sylvia Hale never wanted to set foot in Beacon Hills again. No, she would have happily spent the rest of her life on the other side of the country with Derek and Laura. But then Laura has to go back, and goes missing, and Sylvia finds herself back in the one place she swore to never return to. She thought that she could handle it, that they could find Laura and go home. But Laura is dead, and the Argents are back, and Sylvia wouldn’t know how to handle any of that without Avril Argent coming into the picture.

Name: Terra Smith

Story: When The Kill Time Comes

Species: Elemental

Face claim:  Shay Mitchell

Love interest: Stiles Stilinski & Scott McCall

Summary: Terra Smith barely remembered her life before Eichen House. She has one, she knew that much, but in her earliest, her parents were dropping her on the front steps of the asylum, where she would spend the next decade being experimented on with no hope of reprieve.  No hope, that is, until the mysterious Stiles Stilinski shows up one day.  She doesn’t talk to him, she’s not allowed out of her room, but apparently he noticed her, and soon she finds herself out of Eichen House and among his friends. Before Terra can even get over the shock of being free for the first time she can remember, she’s learning that not only do supernatural creatures exist, but that she is one, and that the lifetime of experiments was Eichen House trying to find out what she was.  She’ll deal with that mystery soon enough, but first apparently they need to figure out who’s behind this apparent Dead Pool of supernatural creatures.

Name: Trix Stilinski

Story: Untitled

Face claim: Liana Liberato

Love Interest: Liam Dunbar & Theo Raeken

*supernatural crossover

Name: Willa Morgenstern

Story: Silver Moon

Species: Redacted

Face claim:  Olivia Holt

Love Interest: Stiles Stilinski

Summary: Willa Morgenstern was happy to live her life in relative anonymity, alongside Scott and Stiles.  She was happy to stay out of the spotlight, to blend into the crowd.  And then something happened to Scott, and everything changed.  Not only were her best friends suddenly keeping secrets from her, but people were dying because of it.  And just when she thought it couldn’t get any worse, she started to glow.

[gloriainalbis]

Strangers

Part 1 - Losers (S1E1)

Nathan Young x Reader  Words: 4.4k Warnings: Swearing, mentions of sex, drugs  Songs:  Strangers - The Kinks  Bad Reputation - Joan Jett 

“So you've been where I've just come From the land that brings losers on”

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Masterlist | Ao3

--

    As bad days go, you’re having a pretty horrible one when you arrive at the Wertham Community Center. It’s the first of many to come, part of the court-mandated service that goes along with your ASBO. Your dad keeps telling you that you’re lucky the judge had been so lenient and should be grateful that he’s allowing you to stay with him and your stepmum again– even though you have no one to stay with and nowhere else to go. And he’s your dad. “In the future,” you tell him while getting out of the car, “I think I’ll walk.” 

     Striding through the frosted glass of the front doors, you continue on to the locker rooms to change into the orange jumpsuits you find waiting for you. You choose a locker on the far wall and dump your stuff there. You decide to leave your t-shirt on underneath, zipping the suit up most, but not all, of the way. Finished, you lean back to take a look at your designated companions for the 200 hours to be dispersed across the next few months. One girl has chosen her locker to be in front of the mirror. Her hair is short, curly, and pinned back on the side to form some cute bangs-like fringe. You notice an ankle monitor adorning her lower leg as she strips down to a pink lace pushup bra and panties and steps into her jumpsuit, rolling up the sleeves and bottom cuffs and adding a gold belt around her waist to complete the ensemble. The color of her earrings and bangle bracelets– both large, round, pink, and plastic– match her underwear. She steps back to take a look at herself and smiles. Another girl brushes her hair back into a high and tight ponytail. She looks curvier than the first girl, but just as confident, pairing smoky black eye makeup with shiny, pale pink lip gloss and gold hoop earrings. The guy who’d taken a locker near yours fishes a cigarette out of his pocket and sticks it between his lips. He looks equal parts cute and odd, tall and lanky with a mop unruly, curly hair framing his face. He wears a red and black checkered shirt and an air of swaggering cockiness radiates from him with a pungency usually reserved for uncommonly offensive odors. He smirks at you slyly. The guy with the locker across from the two girls looks vaguely familiar to you. He has two gold chains, one with a cross, and a grey tank top. His jumpsuit is only zipped up halfway, with the arms tied around his waist. He looks remarkably fit, and, not having much of an affinity for sports, you wonder where you recognize him from. The last person you see in the locker room is shadowy and reserved. His hair is short and neatly combed and his jumpsuit is buttoned up all the way to the very last button. He holds a small, black camera phone in his hand and shifts his gaze between people nervously. As you start to file out, one last person stomps in front of you, looking you up and down as he nearly bowls you over. You grimace as he winks. The first thing you notice about him is the immaculate green flat-brimmed baseball cap. You suspect that this hat and others like it are a large part of his personality. Once you’re all together, a man introducing himself as your probation worker, Tony, leads you outside and has you line up against some railing as he gives what you believe is supposed to be a rousing speech. From left to right is Curtis, Gary, Nathan, you, Kelly, Alisha, and Simon. You would learn their names later, but for the purposes of clarity, we’ll start using them now. Tony paces before you, attempting to assume the macho, fear-inducing demeanor of a boot camp officer. “This is it,” he barks. “This is your chance to do something positive. Give something back. You can help people, you can really make a difference to people’s lives. That’s what community service is all about. There are people out there who think you’re scum. You have an opportunity to show them they’re wrong.” He has the tone of someone who has given this speech before and is just barely holding onto their faith in its underlying message. The girl to your left, Kelly, looks mildly offended at the word “scum,” as if Tony had been speaking directly to her. “Yeah, but what if they’re right?” Nathan interrupts on your right. He looks around at the rest of you, “No offense, but I’m thinking some people are just born criminals.” You smile to yourself and try to hold back a chuckle as a look of anger flashes over suspected-douchebag-Gary’s eyes and he bursts out with “Are you looking to get stabbed?” “You see my point there?” Nathan asks, turning back to Tony. A phone rings and Alisha answers with a casual “Hey,” while twirling a curl between her manicured fingers. Tony tries to continue, but he’s becoming increasingly exasperated. “Doesn’t matter what you’ve done in the past-” “Doin’ my community service,” Alisha speaks to her phone. “Hey!” He tries and fails to catch her attention. “Boring as fuck,” she continues. It was getting harder not to laugh and you glance at Nathan out of the corner of your eye, amused at the part he had to play in the deterioration of Tony’s speech. “Excuse me!” He tries again. “Hello, I’m still talking here.” “What, I thought you’d finished?” She didn’t care, evidently. “You see my lips still moving, that means I’m still talking.” He tries to assert something akin to authority but clearly doesn’t realize how poorly that approach tends to work on rag-tag groups of rebellious young offenders. “Yeah, but you could have been yawning, or chewing,” Nathan points out facetiously in a drawling tone. Tony ignores him, but you are full-on laughing at this point. “End the call! Hang up!” He shouts at Alisha to no avail. “My probation worker,” she explains to the person on the other line. “You all right there, weird kid?” Nathan leans past you to point at Simon, who stood alone at the far end of your lineup. Tony fumed. “Don’t be disgusting. I’ll call you later.” She finally hangs up, looking over at Nathan, who was approaching Gary and making kissing noises at him. “I’ll rip out your throat and shit down your neck,” Gary snaps back. He looks amusingly short in comparison, you now realize. Curtis grimaces and leans away from the touchy ball of anger standing next to him. “I shouldn’t be here, man.” Kelly gapes at his arrogance as Gary starts to scuffle with Nathan, grabbing at his jumpsuit. “We need to work as a team here. Hey, that’s enough!” Tony takes a few steps forward. “Can I move to a different group? This isn’t going to work for me,” Curtis continues, even though Tony is clearly otherwise engaged. You lean back, nearly bumping into Kelly as she steps to Cutis’ indirect insults. “Um… What makes you think that you’re better than us?” “What is that accent?” Nathan comments, drawn out of his conflict by the way her “us” sounded a lot more like “oss” “Is that for real?” Curtis scoffs, rolling his eyes. “What, are you tryna’ say something or yeah?” She speaks, the latter half her sentence mostly lost due to her lack of enunciation. “Its- you- that’s just a noise! Are we supposed to be able to understand her?” Nathan exclaims. You shake your head and raise your eyebrows at their audacity and Kelly’s incoherence. She sticks her hand out and flips him off, “Do you understand that?” Things escalate again when Nathan puts an arm around a violently unwilling Gary who responds by grabbing him and preparing to punch. “Hey, pack it in!” Tony lunges forward to separate them “It’s love, man!” Nathan yells. You double over, stepping back to get out of the way. Kelly meets your gaze and smirks at the growing scene before you. Alisha laughs, a high-pitched giggle. Tony stood between them now, pulling Gary further and further away from Nathan, who assumed a boxer’s stance and put up his fists comically. “Do it man! Do it! You’re a prick, man, look at you!” Gary calls, trying to push past Tony. “What the fuck are they doin’?” You say to everyone behind you as Kelly looks between you and Alisha. Simon looks like he’d rather be elsewhere, as does Curtis, but for different reasons. Nathan had taken to punch the air, which only served to further aggravate Gary. “You’re a fuckin’ pussy, bruv! He’s takin’ the piss, come here!” Cue the intro music. --     Tony eventually diffuses the conflict between Nathan and Gary and finally leads everyone to some benches by the lake, which you are told to paint white. Paint drips everywhere, from your shoes to the concrete sidewalk, but you hardly care. How different is this from the reason you were here in the first place? You were reprimanded for painting on someone else’s property and were told to instead paint on someone else’s property to pay for it, how is that supposed to work? The only difference is that the first time had been art, and this was largely pointless. They wanted to cover up the graffiti on these benches, but the new paint job would only make future acts of vandalism easier to see. You did it anyway, though, happy to peel off with Nathan and Kelly as Curtis and Alisha and Simon and Gary pair off to the benches on either side of you. You watch as Gary leans down to pick up more paint on his brush, his hat brushing dangerously close to the fresh paint before it finally touches, leaving a stark white smear on the brim. You poke Nathan’s shoulder and point as Gary notices, ripping off his hat in horror and stomping off in a huff, kicking a bucket of paint into the lake and leaving behind a violent burst of white. “Oh, man! There’s paint on my cap, this is bullshit!” “Ooh!” Alisha whistles as he walks past. Everyone turns and stares as he struggles with a shopping cart that’s in his way, kicking it at first before trying and failing to shove it into the lake as well when it simply falls in front of him, still blocking the path. “I know you,” you hear Alisha say to Curtis, perking up due to your own curiosity. “No, you don’t,” he brushes her off. “Yes, I do,” She continues, unphased. “You’re that runner guy. You screwed up big time.” That’s it. You’d seen him years ago at your secondary school’s track meets and races, and later in the news for his accomplishments and subsequent arrest. “You noticed, yeah? Thanks for reminding me.” He grew increasingly annoyed, and it was abundantly clear. Overhearing, Nathan glances up at Kelly and tries to strike up a conversation, “So I’m guessing shoplifting?” She ignores him. “No?” He was about to speak again when she cuts him off, “Don’t act like you know me, ‘cuz you don’t.” “I’m just makin’ conversation!” He motions to you and Kelly, “This is a chance to network with other young offenders. We should be swapping tips. Brainstorming!” He looks at you to continue, but you stay silent, also curious about Kelly’s infraction. You shrug and he looks back at her. “Come on, what did you do?” “This girl called me a slag so I just got into a fight,” she admits, slapping her paintbrush to the bench in annoyance. “Was this on the Jeremy Kyle show?” He jokes. “No, it was at Argos.” “Argos?” you ask, finding the store an odd place to get into fights. “You know what you should’ve done? You should have got one of them little pens and jabbed it in her eye.” He was referring to the pens for filling out the catalog cards at Argos and you smirk at the image, but Kelly just stares at him incredulously. It’s an odd thing to say to someone you barely knew. He turns to look at you, “And you? I need to know what we’re workin’ with here.” “Ah…” You glance between Nathan and Kelly before continuing, “Graffiti, mostly, and throwing a party that bugged my neighbors, breaking the peace.” You had broken the law, technically, but it was nothing compared to punching someone and getting into a fight in the middle of Argos. He raises his eyebrows curiously, “Is there a story behind it or was it just mindless vandalism?” “It was on the wall of my apartment, my landlord saw it when he went to break up a party that my friends were throwing and he said he’d report me.” “Oh, what a wanker!” Nathan exclaims. “The worst part is I lost the apartment and now I’ve gotta live with my dad and stepmum again and it’s a living nightmare.” You don’t want to exaggerate or sound like too much of a cliche, but your stepmother is one of the meanest people you have ever encountered. You could understand it to some extent, as she has two young children and you aren’t the greatest of influences. You call these siblings stepfuck and stepcunt respectively, case in point. “Well, I can sympathize with that. But at least yours is a stepmum, they’re, like, inherently kinda hot, amirite?” You glare at him and begin to understand some of Kelly’s annoyance. He redirects, turning his attention to Simon, who is now painting his bench all alone after Gary’s outburst. “What about you, weird kid? Don’t take this the wrong way or anything, but you look like a panty-sniffer.” He holds his hands up beside his face, mocking a disgusting sniff of some invisible panties. “I’m not a panty-sniffer,” he responds. “I’m not a pervert.” He tries to return to painting the bench, but Nathan begins walking towards him, pretending to jack off with his paintbrush still in his hand, grunting disgustingly. You sigh and roll your eyes, glancing at Kelly. He could be funny, sure, but you were quickly learning about his tendency to take things too far. Kelly shrugs at you. “I tried to burn someone’s house down,” Simon blurts out to get Nathan to stop. Everyone who’d heard snapped to attention, as arson seems considerably more serious than vandalism or a few punches. “Fire?” Nathan laughs and walks back. Kelly looks up at him, “What did you do?” You were still curious about the fire and arson, but you let the conversation move on regardless. “Me? I was done for eatin’ some pick ‘n’ mix.” “Yeah, right,” you scoff. “Bollocks,” Kelly agrees. “What is goin’ on with this weather,” Nathan muses, distracted, as thunder rolls down from overhead and you quickly noticed the growing dark storm clouds in the sky just across the lake. Huh, odd. That hadn’t been there just a few minutes ago. “How did that happen?” you hear behind you, looking around to see Tony returning, an angry look instantly plastered to his face. He points to the overturned paint can, part of Gary’s carnage, and holds his arms up in exasperation. “I mean, you’ve been here five minutes. It’s painting benches. How’d you screw that up? You tell me, because I’ve got no idea.” From out of nowhere, a giant white ball of something smashes down on the car behind Tony, completely caving in the roof and sending the car alarm blaring. Shocked, you jump back and duck amid the various screams and cries of “What the hell was that?” and “Oh, Jesus!” Nathan’s smug grin immediately falls and transforms into fear and wonderment. Alisha shrieks, crying out in a warbling tone, “What’s goin’ on?” Tony turns around slowly in disbelief and gasps, “That’s my car!” “Oh, fuck,” you mutter under your breath. But Nathan isn’t taking it as seriously. “Classic,” he chuckles, thinking it to be some sort of prank. But then another thing falls from the sky into the lake behind you, whizzing past your heads and spraying you, Nathan, and Kelly in an onslaught of lake-water. “Okay, so I’m a little bit freaked out!” he admits. “No fucking shit!” you agree. “What is that?” Alisha asks, turning your attention to the storm Nathan had pointed out just moments ago. It had grown, somehow, turning dark and dangerous as it travels at an unnervingly fast pace towards your group. Simon holds his phone up to film the storm and its effects just as another ball crashes into the dumpster beside him, knocking over the heavy, metal container and spewing ice at him as he ducks and runs from it. More and more ice falls from the sky, huge blocks larger than your head, and you don’t want to think of what could happen if one of them hit you. “Right, let’s get everyone inside,” Tony instructs as more and more of them fall all around you. “Move! Move! Run!” You sprint back to the community center at top speed, holding your head as ice shards rain down on you, pelting and stinging your face and arms. Your heart practically beats out of your chest. One ball of ice pummels into the sidewalk in front of you, breaking a concrete tile. Another falls into a phonebooth, and the glass shatters to the ground around your feet. The storm seems to get thicker as you near the center, and your hair is plastered to your face from the mixture of sweat and water that you were drenched in. You could barely hear Tony yell “Keep going!” over the crashes and booms that fill your ears as you run for your life. Curtis reaches the door first, pulling on the handles and banging on the glass before stepping back and yelling over the din to Tony, “It’s locked! Open it!” Tony groans, “Come on…” and fumbles with the keys. You throw yourself against the wall, as far away as possible from the mega hail storm, and scream, “Just fuckin’ unlock it!” “What is happening?” Kelly shrieks as another massive ball of ice falls onto the pavement beside her. “Open the door, come on!” Nathan yells as Tony grows increasingly frustrated. “I’m finding the right key!” he bellows back “Open the door!” Curtis yells again, and Alisha agreed. “Open the fucking door!” Tony whips around in a burst of anger, “Don’t speak to me like that!” You were about to berate him for his poor priorities when a bright white burst of cold lightning cracks in front of you and sends you flying backward in a chorus of screams. Time slows as you fly through the air and the electricity transforms from a chilling shock to a burning flare, searing and snaking through you as you soar and tumble backward onto the hard pavement. You hit the ground with a sickening thud, from which groans and cries of pain follow. A few remaining snowballs hit the ground around you, but the storm appears to have passed. “I feel really weird,” you hear Kelly say. Your vision is still black, which has you worried until you realize it’s only because your eyes are still closed. You open them and sit up, rubbing the back of your head, which is still screaming in pain. “That’ll be the lightning,” Curtis says to try and explain what just happened. “We should be dead,” Simon points out. “Well, that’s comforting,” you snap back. “A little reassurance might be nice, you know,” Nathan agrees, instead directing his comment to Tony, who is sprawled before the door of the center and has just started to sit up. “‘You’re fine!’ ‘Looking good!’” he elaborates. “Wanker…” Tony groans, pushing himself up onto his elbows. “Did he just call me a wanker?” Nathan asks, indignantly glancing at you and everyone else. He snaps his fingers at Tony, “Hey? Hello?” You see a quick look of anger flash across Tony’s face before he grumbles, “Is everyone alright?” “We could have died, you dick,” Alisha adds. “Are you alright?” Kelly asks tentatively as Tony shakes his head and coughs out a growl. “You’re actin’ like a freak.” He ignores her, “Maybe we should call it a day.” --     Tony finally manages to unlock the door, and you return to the locker rooms to gather your things. You feel like you should be annoyed, leaving early only means you’ll have to spend another day here, but you are too exhausted to feel anything. That was probably the closest you’d ever been to death. You can still feel your heart beating, a deep, steady drumbeat, and your lungs ache from the running and adrenaline. Beside you, Nathan closes his locker and leans against it before turning to you, “Do you think we’ll stick together now, bonded by our shared experiences?” “Dunno. I’d rather spend as little time here as possible,” you explain, closing your locker and stepping away to put on your hoodie. “Oh, you’re one of those types, are you?” Nathan smiles. “What type?” You glare at him. “The I’m-too-cool-for-this type.” “No, that’s Curtis,” you quip, knowing that he’d already left the room. “I just happen to not like community service.” Or any of these morons, all the other girls are total slags. “Hey!” Kelly snaps, swinging around to glare at you suddenly. “Oookay?” You turn away awkwardly and leave, you can’t imagine anything you’d said having offended her. Maybe she just really loves community service or something, but that is decidedly not the impression you’ve gotten from her so far. You walk out to the waiting area by the vending machines, where you find Curtis and Simon standing around in heavy silence. Nathan follows after you moments later. “Do we just go, then?” Curtis asks, clearly annoyed. “Where’s the probation worker?” “I think there’s something wrong with him,” Simon speaks up. “It’s like he was having a spasm.” “He was probably just faking it, trying to get some compensation. Cheap bastard,” Nathan scoffs. “I don’t think he was faking it,” Simon insists, looking back down at his phone. “And you know all about being… mental.” Nathan takes a few steps forward as he talks, leering at Simon and lowering his voice. Then he pretends to convulse and yells “Wanker!” You punch him in the shoulder. “Ow, what the hell was that for?” He sticks his head out at you almost comically. You stick your head out back at him. “Stop being such a prick, he might have a point.” Alisha walks in, already looking bored. “Are we waiting for something?” “Probation worker,” Curtis explains. She scrunches up her face in disgust. “I’m not hanging around for that dickhead.” She turns on her heel and leaves, which everyone else seems to take as their cue to leave as well. You can’t be bothered to be the only one waiting around, so you follow suit. Once outside, everyone pretty much goes their separate ways. Nathan, however, trots after you. “What’re you doin’?” You ask. “Thought you looked a little lonely, and, well, I’d like to recommend my own company as recompense.” He motions to himself like he’s all that, which honestly has you snorting to hold back your laughter. “You can’t be serious.” You raise your eyebrows. “Fine, I happen to live along this way, alright? I’m Nathan, by the way.” “Y/n.” You smile at him. “And I’ll have you know that to date, I haven’t had a single complaint.” He says it like you should be impressed or something. “Can’t have complaints if you haven’t been with anybody,” you joke, smirking. His jaw drops in mock surprise, “Oy! I have, too!” He keeps trying to impress upon you the depth of his sexual prowess, offering many stories as proof, all of which have you in stitches. He peels off when you were about halfway home. You say your goodbyes and wave as he walks away, grateful for the company. A few houses down from your own, though, you stop walking, contemplating what to do next. Home doesn’t seem like a particularly fun place to be right now, but it’s not like you have anywhere else to go. It’s still the early afternoon, so it would probably be only your stepmum at home, with your dad at work and your step siblings at school. It’s practically a worst-case scenario, as you doubt she would believe that they let you go early. You wish this day had gone differently. As you’re musing and trying to work up the courage to walk the thirty or so meters left to your front door, the skies begin to darken. You look up to see if a cloud had rolled in overhead, not exactly trusting the weather as of late, but as soon as you do so, it disappears and the sky goes back to normal. You think nothing of it, which is probably a poor choice on your part, but you are too burned out to care. You finally reach the front door, closing it gingerly behind you, but to no avail. “Y/n? Is that you?” You hear from the other room. “Yup.” You stand in the doorway to the kitchen, knowing you need to address this, but desperately wanting to leave. “They let us go early today.” She eyes you quizzically, “Really?” Now here’s the thing, the truth isn’t even remotely believable– There was a freak hail storm and everyone in our group got hit by lightning or something but now we’re all okay and our probation officer did too, he let us go early and then disappeared– so you have to lie. “Yeah, ‘cuz it’s the first day. They mostly showed us the ropes, got us started on something, and then let us go.” You wait, holding your breath. “Oh.” She looks disappointed. “I thought you’d be out today.” “Yeah, well I did, too,” you mumble as you walk away, not really caring whether or not she heard. “What’d you say?!” she calls after you. “Nothing!” you yell back as you walk as quickly as possible to your room. Once inside, you sigh and collapse onto your bed. You feel like a teenager again and it’s horrible, being forced to be somewhere where you’re treated like immature crap every day, living at home again, constantly having a row with your stepmum. You hope, but doubt, that the next day will be better.