#AND I ESPECIALLY HOPE ANYONE WHO FEELS ANYTHING ''ROMANTIC'' FOR HER MATERIALIZES IN FRONT OF ME SO I CAN STAB THEM TO DEATH MYSELF ^_^

[thefanficmonster]

Let Them Talk

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female) ft. Sykkuno

Warnings: Swearing, Jealousy

Genre: Fluff, a bit of Angst

Summary: We can all agree Among Us is a fun game on its own but what makes it ten times better is playing it with the right company. Y/N could agree 100% Being a streamer herself, she loves playing with the streamer gang that includes her boyfriend and best friend. But, what happens when her boyfriend starts doubting her feelings for him due to her close relationship with her best friend.

Requested by @cheetoscat . Thank you so much for your request! Sorry it took so long to write, I hope the final product is worth the wait. Enjoy! Love, Vy ❤

Y/AU/N - Your Among Us Name

I settle in my gaming chair, adjusting my webcam one last time before joining the Among Us lobby with my friends. 

“Hi everyone!“ I say into the mic, a smile plastering itself on my face. Discord is a magical thing, man. It’s so easy to forget that the people you are talking to aren’t around you or within arm’s reach. You could be separated by miles and miles of land or - in our case - oceans as well. Distance becomes negligible when you hear your friends’ voices, their laughter; when you have a good time together despite being each behind a screen, often times alone.

Well, I’m one of those lucky ones that isn’t alone. No one knows that, though. Everyone thinks I’m a single, self-employed girl that’s straight out of college. And they are 90% right. Only thing is - I’m not single. That would be a shocker in and of itself, but revealing who’s changed my relationship status would be a bomb with a whole new intensity.

Speaking of my significant other who shall remain unnamed - just kidding, it’s Corpse - his form materializes in the doorway of my recording room. I give him a hand signal the camera isn’t able to capture, alerting him of the fact that my mic is on. He replies by blowing me a kiss and walking off down the hall to his recording room where he’ll be stationed for the next three or so hours.

I owe this relationship to my best friend Sykkuno. I’m a pretty new and not very well known on the platform, however, thanks to him I haven’t only obtained a boyfriend, but a following of a little over million subscribers as well. 

It all started with an invitation to fill a spot in the Among Us lobby him and his friends had created. It took him quite a bit to convince me to join, but I eventually caved and agreed. Suddenly, there I was. In a Discord call, in an Among Us lobby with some of the most well-known names on this platform. I’m talking YouTube legends. I was that puppy playing with the big dogs. The newbie tagging along with the big leagues. Or at least that’s how I felt until we all started vibing - talking and teasing each other as though we’ve known each other for years and not minutes.

When I joined the call, Corpse wasn’t present. After everyone else introduced themselves, Sykkuno informed me that we were waiting for Corpse to return. The name sounded really cool to me and I was genuinely very excited to meet this Corpse guy.

And then, out of the blue - no prep, no warning...

“Did you get someone to fill the spot? Oh- Hello, Y/AU/N.“ 

…he started talking and he had me star-struck. Apparently, he also had me a blabbering mess cause I remember blurting out: “Whoa, who’s this guy speaking in bold and underlined at the same time?”

The entire lobby, including Corpse, laughed. Sean, or Jack like they called him most often, answered my question, “That is the voice of God, Y/N. Its source is named Corpse, though.”

Heat spread from the bottom of my neck to the tips of my ears. I was mortified by my own stupidity. I was well aware they couldn’t see me and I was incredibly thankful for that, but I simply could not get myself to open my eyes. “I’m so sorry.” I said through nervous laughter.

“No, no, I like that description. Bold and underlined at the same time, huh?“ His voice sounded even more pleasant when it had that teasing, mischievous note to it. That thought popping up in my head only made things worse for my self-esteem and only made me more embarrassed, causing me to hide my face in my hands. “You sure it’s not in Italics as well?“ 

His question got a weak laugh out of me. “Nope, definitely not. Nothing Italic about it.“

Yes, I don’t even know how some terrible jokes about MS Word fonts got me as far as a romantic relationship, but they did! We’ve been living together for quite some time now, dating for even longer - hiding it just as long. It’s not that we have been actively trying to hide it or something, we just wanted to see how long it would take someone to become sus of us. When we realized no one would notice, we decided that if any rumors about us started, or even fans shipping us, we’d come clean. That hasn’t happened either, so we haven’t had the proper chance to address our relationship and neither of us minds.

At this point, I’m honestly afraid of revealing it to the gaming squad. Sykkuno especially. He’s my best friend, after all. I can see him being hurt by the fact that I kept a secret so big even from him. The last thing I wanna do is hurt my best friend but it’s already too late for that, it’s inevitable.

“Y/N have you looked at Twitter today?“ Rae, another streamer I’ve become close with over the months, says urgently.

Overlooking the tension in her words, I answer: “Nope, haven’t had the time. Why? What’s up?“

Before Rae can say anything else, Sykkuno joins the conversation, his voice somehow even more urgent than Rae’s. “It’s nothing, Y/N. If you see it, just don’t let it bother you, ok?”

Hearing such a tone from Rae isn’t unusual, but hearing it from Sykkuno is completely different and a lot more worrisome. “Well if it has the potential of bothering me it can’t be nothing. What’s going on?”

Just then, my phone dings with two notifications. I check to see they are messages from Rae.

“I sent you screenshots. Sorry, Sykkuno. She has to know in order to address it and defuse it as well. I know better than anyone how fast these rumors can spread, especially if no one reacts to them.“ She says, her tone barely apologetic at all.

I open the screenshots she has sent me and I find myself frozen in shock. Some old pictures of Sykkuno and I have been posted on Twitter by some random user. These pictures have started an entire thread of suspicions surrounding our relationship.

The pictures in question are from a New Year’s Eve party a mutual friend of ours held two years ago. Sure, in the pictures we are a lot closer than what would be considered a platonic proximity. And yes one of the pictures is of me kissing his cheek. Yes we were both a bit tipsy. I acknowledge all those things and yet none of them are concrete reasons for these rumors to have started piling. 

“This is silly.“ I finally say after maybe five minutes of silence on my end. ”This is absolutely ridiculous! And why are people so serious about it as well? Actual, important matters get discussed more nonchalantly than the potential relationship between two online personalities! What is this world we live in?“ I know I shouldn’t let these rumors get to me like this, especially not on camera. Still, I can’t help it. I feel it’s so unfair to Corpse. He has to put up with this as well and it’s by no means easy for him. I’ve been shipped with people from our group in the past and he always took those rumors to heart despite acting like he didn’t care. Neither of us should get worked up, but him getting upset about them creates a domino effect with my emotions - causing me to be hit just as hard as him, in some cases harder.

Rumors of the past aside, this one is the worst by far. Mostly cause even Corpse himself suspected something between Sykkuno and I at the very beginning, when we were still acquaintances, barely crossing into the realm of friends.

I pull up Twitter to look for the whole thread, barely sparing my stream chat a glance in the process. It seems pretty split - those who agree with me and those who think Sykkuno and I make ‘such an adorable couple’. The thread is ridiculously long, and if we take into account that it was only started approximately five hours ago, you can either view it as impressive, amusing or sad. Why sad? Because someone has dedicated so much time and effort into fueling the fire of a weakly supported theory.

I love Sykkuno with all my heart. Everyone knows that - fandom, streamer squad, Corpse and Sykkuno included. I love too much and too platonically to ever even dream of having a romantic connection with him. I thought that was more than obvious, but people are either blind here, or just grasping at straws. One thing’s for certain - they’re stepping on a nerve.

“Hey where’s Corpse? Did he disconnect?” Felix asks, gaining my full attention. My eyes dart to the monitor, searching through the little avatars in a desperate search for the one of my boyfriend. It’s nowhere to be found.

“He just messaged me saying his connection is unstable but he might join us later.“ Rae says, “You guys can invite someone to fill...“

“Bathroom break.“ I interrupt, not waiting for a response before shutting my mic off, putting the ‘BRB‘ graphic on my stream and yanking the headset off. I basically run down the hall to Corpse’s recording room, my heart pounding like a bass drum.

“Corpse?!“ I call out to him, one hand already on the doorknob. When five seconds pass by without a response, I barge in. 

Inside, I find his usual spot on the gaming chair empty and his slumped figure seated on his bed.

“Corpse?“ I try again, watching for even the tiniest change of body language. He remains still as a statue, not bothering to look up at me either. 

His hands are gripping the edge of the mattress, his head hanging low. His eyes are covered by the short curtain of his dark messy curls. I can’t gauge much. Is he angry? Is he sad? Both? How should I approach the situation?

Before I find the answer to any of those questions, I am kneeling in front of him, our height difference eliminated. I gently pry his hands off the mattress and take them in mine, holding them firmly but tenderly. With one hand I reach up to tilt his head so his eyes can meet mine. He complies, his tear-filled brown orbs meeting mine. Those tears have the same effect on me as fifty sharp knives stabbing into my chest. These tears focus their attack straight on my heart, tearing it to pieces.

“Baby....“

He cuts me off, “Why is it always someone else, huh? Do they deem me not worthy of being with you? Do they think you deserve better?” His voice wavers, “Well, they might be right. They are correct and there’s little I can do to prove them wrong. They mean you well, Y/N - pairing you with guys better than me. Those are some loyal fans you’ve got. They only want what’s best for you. And so do I. If ‘best’ is being with someone else then...”

It’s my turn to cut him off. I put an end to his nonsense ramble that’s slowly killing me by pressing my finger against his lips. The sternness of my gaze is beyond me as I get up and walk over to his computer setup. I put on his headset and hop into the call as well as the lobby with his avatar.

“Hey Corpse’s back!” Toast says, “Good to have you back buddy.”

“No, not Corpse.” I say in a casual, nonchalant voice.

“Wait, wha-“ Sean’s voice shows just how confused he is, representing the confusion of the entire lobby actually.

“I know all of you are streaming so this message will be heard by several different audiences so I’m gonna make myself perfectly clear.“ I take a deep breath, “Sykkuno and I aren’t dating. He’s a lovely guy and he deserves to find a girl who will treat him right. That girl isn’t and won’t be me though. I am already treating someone right. Someone who treats me more than right as well. An amazing person. A man-child with a heart of gold. You know him, to a certain extent. He goes by the name of Corpse Husband, but I prefer to call him ‘Love of my life’. Thank you for your time and attention, goodbye.“

I exit the call and turn around to find a stunned Copse looking at me.

“That was meant for you just as much.“ I say with a fake strict attitude, one hand on my hip the other rested on his desk behind me, “Were you listening?“

Within milliseconds, he’s on his feet standing directly in front of me, his lips inches away from mine. “I heard and memorized every word. But...” he pauses for a moment, “I think you have no idea how big of a chaos you just created.”

I smile mischievously, “We’ll worry about that later. For now...” I close the gap between us, connecting our lips in a sweet and passionate kiss. 

@susceptible-but-siriusexual  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @itsminniekat  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis  @waterlilypat  @idontknowwhatthisisfam  @evi-ka  @classyandfabulous00  @redperson58  @lilysdaydreams  @the-fuck-up-of-today  @slashersdream  @chiefwombathoagiepizza  @solowheein @mythicalamphitrite  @axen-gers  @luckygirl144  @nj01

[retrievablememories]

love thy neighbor | kun (m)

title: love thy neighbor pairing: kun x black reader genre: fluff, smut, neighbors to lovers request: “Hello again Rain! I hope you're doing well and I'm happy to see you're open for requests again. Your writing in general is a treat to look forward to. An idea for a fic I'd like to suggest is wayv kun/black oc where they're neighbors that secretly pine for another and do feel free get very nsfw lmao. TY!” word count: 5.7k warnings: alcohol use, protected sex, dirty talk, dry humping, riding a/n: i used a prompt from this list of ideas to help me create this fic.

i’m sorry, this fic could’ve theoretically been finished long ago but took me 3893 years because kun intimidates me (and i don’t know why) and that makes it hard to write for him l m f a o chile anyway...

--

Your neighbor might actually kill you one day—but only in the figurative sense.

Kun is too beautiful and kind for your sanity; he’s like one of those men out of a romantic novel who simply should not exist. In other words, the ideal guy. One who helps all the little old ladies in the building take their groceries up to their apartments, one who feeds all the stray cats that hang around the complex, one who helps new tenants move their things in without even being asked.

Your roommate Charlotte would probably be totally smitten over him just like you if she did not already have her own happy relationship with her girlfriend. But since she does, she has decided to spend her time instead teasing you about your crush on him and trying to persuade you into getting tangled up in a matchmaking mess.

“I’m sure he already has a girlfriend, I don’t know, trying to shoot my shot seems ridiculous,” you say to her, worrying the edge of your blanket in your hands. You toss and turn on the couch, flipping onto your stomach and sighing before shuffling onto your back again. “People like that can never stay single for long. Right? They get snapped up quick.”

“You’d know if you simply asked,” Charlotte points out. “Staring holes into his head won’t help you find out more about him.”

“I guess you’re right,” you say, your fingers stumbling over the blanket as it momentarily slips from your hands. Still, the idea of asking him if he’s dating anyone, whether discreetly or more openly, makes you nervous. You’ve talked to Kun several times before, even hung out with him at those friendly get-togethers your apartment building always holds to get the residents mingling, but you’re still anxious around him. It makes you feel silly, like you’re back in high school; but you aren’t quite sure what to do with those emotions or how to form them into something coherent. “Easy to say all that when you already have the person you want, though.”

“Oh, girl. Love is not easy, but that’s why you have to fucking work for it. AKA, go for what—or who—the hell you want and stop pining over him like some lost Juliet on our couch. It’s better than watching you flop around like a dying fish.”

You stand up from the couch abruptly, leaving your blanket to the side and glaring at her. “You don’t get it, ugh.”

“I get it! But you refuse to let me help—”

“Yes, because if I did, you’d say something completely ridiculous and tell him I’m madly in love with him or something.” You head to the bathroom to check yourself in the mirror.

Charlotte throws her hands up in surrender. “Hey, maybe. But that wouldn’t be a lie.”

“Really? I don’t think—”

“I think so. The way you talk about this guy, it’s definitely sounding a little like love to me.”

Once you’re satisfied, you come back in the main room and grab your keys, wanting to end this conversation before Charlotte sets a world record for how many times she can make you feel embarrassed. “Whatever you say. I’m gonna go to the corner store, so...speak now if you need something or forever hold your peace.”

“You can’t run from it,” Charlotte sing-songs, going back to reading her magazine. “And no, I don’t need anything.”

Once you get out your front door, it’s just your luck when you see Kun’s door is also open. You are not dressed for running into him, of all people; your “corner store” clothes being just a T-shirt, leggings, and slides. You freeze in place and momentarily think about unlocking your door and bolting back inside, which you realize is utterly ridiculous. By then, it’s too late; he’s already coming out his door and closing it behind him. 

He perks up when he sees you outside, smiling at you with those deep dimples that make your insides melt. “Hey Y/N, good to see you.”

“Kun! Uh—great to see you too.”

“Are you going out somewhere?” he asks. Inwardly, he feels a bit silly for asking because you clearly are, keys in hand and everything.

“Yeah, just to the store to get a few things.” You wave your hand, and you almost have the urge to lean on your doorframe to appear more calm and collected than you are. Which could potentially end up looking sillier than you intended. “How about you?”

“Going to see a friend,” he answers, and he brushes his hand through his hair in a way that’s completely casual but somehow modelesque at the same time. This is unbelievable, you think to yourself. “We haven’t met up in a while, so…”

“Oh yeah, it’s always nice to go out with old friends,” you say, smiling at the thought of it. Kun nods his agreement, and then has an abrupt, wild idea to ask if you’d like to go out somewhere sometime. Too busy warring with himself over whether he should take the dive, he doesn’t notice you heading towards the stairs already. “I hope you two have a good time!”

“Oh—thanks. Hope you enjoy your trip.” He chuckles, following you down the steps to get to his car. Well, that moment has passed. Sure, he could probably still ask you now if he was bold enough about it, but it feels too awkward to randomly ask someone out in the middle of a stairwell.

You wave bye to him once you both get in the parking lot. He watches you walk to your car with a wistful smile on his face. He wants to say more to you, but the timing isn’t right and it’s best not to hold you up right now. Plus, Hendery’s probably already waiting for him.

It would’ve provided you with a lot of relief if you knew Kun was facing a similar dilemma to you. He’d never had much problem talking to women he liked in the past, but something about you made him feel clumsy and hesitant. But just like with your inability to move forward, there’s no way for you to know his feelings without him saying anything about it—which he has been hesitating over for the longest. 

Maybe he was also still cowering from the embarrassment of the time he’d tried to show you a magic trick that didn’t quite work out, but it was a convenient excuse. At least for him, anyway.

One day he’d get the courage to tell you how he felt, but he didn’t think today was that day.

–

Some strong shots and a few hours at the club was exactly what you needed to unravel your nerves after a long week. You and a few others from your work had decided to go out that Saturday night as a group effort to unwind from dealing with your overbearing boss. “Just a couple shots” eventually turned into more than that, though, but you weren’t complaining. As long as it gave you the opportunity to discard all your issues for a while, you didn’t mind losing yourself a little.

However, your night of fun quickly dissolves into frustration when you realize you’ve lost your keys and have no way to get back into your apartment. You’re not even sure where they might’ve disappeared—in the club, or in the rideshare back to your apartment?

Charlotte is out of the city for the week visiting her long-distance girlfriend, so there’s no way you’re getting back in your apartment tonight. The main office won’t be open at this hour, either; it’s the weekend, and nobody will be there regardless until Monday. And you’re definitely not drunk enough or desperate enough to try to bust the door down.

Though it pains you to do so, you knock on Kun’s door, your head throbbing and dizzy. You feel bad about this. He won’t even be awake at this hour and might not answer, but you don’t know what other options you have. You aren’t familiar enough with your other neighbors to ask this of them. Especially not the old lady living on the other side of you who has a perpetually judgmental aura towards everyone in the apartment building. The only person she seems marginally approving of is none other than the man himself—Qian Kun.

It takes a good minute or two, but you hear the latch unlock, and Kun is suddenly standing in front of you, a look of concern on his sleepy face. He is adorable like this, in his pajamas and his hair mussed and his eyes foggy with sleep. He’s so cute it makes you want to cry—and so you do. 

But your tears are mostly because you’re very tipsy and tired and currently locked out of your very comfortable apartment.

This awakens Kun immediately. “Y/N? What’s wrong?” He gently pulls you into his apartment, his tone quiet but panicked as you put your face in your hands and cry. You just shake your head for a few moments, crying too much to say anything to him. When you don’t reply, he doesn't try to press you for answers; he just puts his arms around you, a bit carefully as if you’re made of some easily breakable material, and lets you wet his T-shirt with your tears.

Finally, when you’ve collected yourself some, you abruptly feel foolish for crying over something like this. He probably thinks someone’s died, and you’ve gotten him all worked up for practically nothing. “I-I’m locked out,” you sigh heavily, and he has enough politeness not to outwardly react to your alcohol breath with your close proximity. “And my roommate is gone…forever.”

His eyebrows lift. “Forever?”

“The whole week, Kun...but it feels like...f-forever.”

“Ah...I see. Is that why you were crying?”

You put your head back in your hands. “Just kill me.”

“Don’t feel bad about it,” Kun says, and there is a tiny lift to his mouth like he wants to smile at your dramatics. “It’s fine. You can stay here tonight.”

“Kun, thank you.” You’re still loosely embracing each other, and you squeeze your arms more tightly around him. Maybe it’s just a reason to rest your head on his chest again and hear his heart beating strong against your cheek, but you wouldn’t admit that. Wait, why is his heart beating so fast? “Thank youuu, I love you so much, this means the world to me.”

Kun’s mind catches on the words I love you so much, and he knows you’re just drunk and need to sleep it off and aren’t really thinking about what you’re saying, but he cannot help lingering there for a moment. He’s glad the front room is still dim from the single lamp he turned on, otherwise you might notice the flush growing on his cheeks. “I...it’s no problem. We should get you comfortable, then.”

As it turns out, get you comfortable means he lets you sleep in his bed while he takes the couch. In another context you’d protest, not wanting to kick him out of his own space, but you are simply too smashed to think about it. You’re seconds away from falling asleep where you stand now that the adrenaline of discovering you’re locked out has worn off. Kun has the idea to make you drink some ice cold water, though, which wakes you up enough to take a proper shower.

By the time you get out of the shower and are wearing his clothes—his clothes—you are feeling a little more sober. You also feel like you’re going to have another small meltdown over all this. “This” being: wearing Kun’s clothes and standing in his bedroom, which is decorated with all his interests and treasured belongings. There’s a small studio setup in one corner, which interests you, but you don’t investigate it any further.

Now you have another little problem, though; what are you gonna do about the pillows? You don’t have anything to cover your hair with, with all your scarves and bonnets in your own apartment. One night of sleeping on a cotton pillow wouldn’t kill you, but that doesn’t make it any less distasteful to think about.

Kun comes into the bedroom to check on you and sees you puzzling around, sitting on the bed and looking awkward. “What’s the matter?”

“Oh. It’s nothing really,” you rush out, unsure if you should tell him about a problem he likely won’t even understand. It must be at least 4:00 a.m. by now, meaning you both desperately need to get some sleep.

“You can tell me, I won’t bite.”

I wouldn’t mind if you did pops into your head, but you immediately try to ignore that thought and are silently grateful that you do not blush visibly.

“Uh, my hair.”

“Your hair?”

“Okay, I need to cover it at night so it won’t get all broken off or anything—sleeping on cotton does wonders for destroying moisture—but I don’t have anything here to use. I mean—it’s...not a huge deal though, I can deal with it for a night?” You’re rambling now. Kun just nods, taking in all this information like he’s listening to something very important and very interesting.

“So then, what would you do to stop that?”

“Wear a scarf, or a bonnet, or using a silk pillowcase works, too. But you probably don’t have any of that stuff, you don’t have to bother with it—”

“Well, let me see.” Kun disappears into his closet and you pause, wondering for a moment if he actually does have a bonnet or something in there. Which would probably be a little hilarious to you.

He comes back out with not a bonnet of a scarf or even a pillowcase, but one of his own shirts. It’s just the right material though, being a pretty purple silk.

“Oh—Kun.” At this point, there are several emotions all trying to come to the forefront, though you have no clue which one to settle on. “Your shirt? You really don’t have to. I could…”

“It’s just a shirt, Y/N. There are a lot more where that comes from...I don’t mind.” He chuckles.

You sigh bashfully but take the shirt from him. “Thank you, it’s really thoughtful of you.” You cover the pillow with his shirt, and it works perfectly.

“Anyway, if you need anything else, just tell me,” he says, lingering by the door.

“I will...thank you,” you say, your voice quiet as you give him a nervous smile. Only when he shuts the door and his footsteps fade away do you allow yourself to bunch the comforter in your fists and scream into it. Everything in here smells just like him, which is probably more than enough to fuel all of your Qian Kun-related daydreams for the next 8 months.

It doesn’t take long for you to drift off when you finally do lie down, and your mind is blissfully empty of anything throughout the night.

--

The next day takes a bit of settling into. You’re momentarily alarmed when you wake up faced with a strange room until you remember last night’s events and recall where you are. There is also the smell of food, good food, which is also sadly unfamiliar to you. Charlotte can’t cook to save either of your lives, so you know you’d never be waking up to the smell of a professional chef-approved breakfast if you were still in your apartment with her.

Walking out of Kun’s room, you see that he’s in the kitchen, halfway finished with cooking breakfast for the both of you. It’s more like brunch at this hour, but what does that matter.

You linger at the doorway for a moment, allowing yourself to imagine that this is what things would be like if you were dating. Getting this view everyday? Life cannot be this unfair.

Maybe not too much, though, since you are standing in his kitchen.

“Oh, good morning,” he greets you, breaking your reverie. “Did you sleep well?”

“Good morning. I slept great. Thanks again for, you know, the shirt, haha…”

He grins, and his dimples come out. “Sure thing. Go ahead and sit! Breakfast will be ready soon.”

It’s the best breakfast you’ve eaten since living with Charlotte; maybe some of the best food you’ve ever had. “I had no idea you could cook this well,” you say. “I mean. I guess I wouldn’t since I haven’t—you know, uh—eaten here before, but—it’s great.” It’s just your luck that your thoughts come out in this fumbling mini-rant, but Kun only laughs good-naturedly.

“Thank you, I’m truly glad you like it.”

You both continue eating breakfast while making light conversation. This just might be the longest conversation you’ve had with each other, and that knowledge seems surreal. You’re almost a little glad you lost your key. Almost.

“So...today is Sunday. And the leasing office still won’t be open until Monday.” Kun says this over the remnants of breakfast. He speaks in a measured tone, like he’s trying to ensure he says the right thing. Whatever that could possibly be. “And you told me your roommate won’t be back until Monday.”

To your credit, you hadn’t exactly accounted for this when you first came over to his place in your distressed state. That means another night spent in his apartment though, which becomes very obvious to you now. “Ah. Sorry, am I imposing?”

“What—no, I-I just wanted to make sure you knew you can stay here tonight, or—however long you need.”

Relief floods through you, and you briefly wonder why you even worried about it; as far as you know, he’s not the kind of person to just kick someone out. “Ohh, of course—that’s good to know. Thank you for all this!”

“You’re welcome.” You miss the smile he gives to your response as you’re busy drinking your juice, but it’s one filled with a certain affection.

--

It feels a bit awkward to just sit around in his apartment all day, with nothing to do and all your belongings still locked out of your reach in your own place, so Kun shows you the studio in the corner of his room. He’d talked about being into music before, but you’d never heard anything of his until now.

When he plays the keyboard for you, it’s to the tune of a beautiful self-composed song. You almost pinch yourself to remind yourself this isn’t a hallucination or a fever dream. A man this appealing really exists, and you’ve stayed the night in his apartment and eaten his breakfast. You give a small round of applause when he finishes.

“Wouldn’t it be cool if you became a famous singer or something? I’d come to all your concerts,” you say lightly, kicking your legs on the edge of his bed.

“All? Really, all?” He laughs.

“Yes, all. A voice and talent like that deserves all the attention.” You lean back on his bed, stretching your legs out. “But all your venues would probably be sold out. Hopefully you’d remember me from your lil’ ole apartment building. I’m sure you’d be living in a penthouse by then.”

Kun smiles bashfully at your compliments, waving his hands as if it’s too much. “Thank you. But I don’t think I could ever forget you.” His voice grows a bit softer. His expression is more genuine than you expect for a conversation that was so playful only seconds ago, and you find it hard to hold eye contact all of a sudden.

It is your turn to be bashful, and you shrug in an effort to seem natural. “Well, I’m flattered.” Despite your unaffected demeanor, you don’t think those words will leave your mind for a good while, even if you wonder about the meaning of them. 

--

Later that evening, Kun makes dinner and you watch TV together, flipping to whatever channels have dramas or movies playing.

You two eventually fall into another conversation when you can’t find anything good to watch—one that does not make you overly nervous for once. During a lull in the talking, that big question pops up into your mind, and you wince internally at how Charlotte would’ve already told you to make a move. You aren't sure how to do that without making him uncomfortable or seeming too sudden, but you decide to make an attempt.

You edge into it with, “So, um, your place looks pretty nice for one guy. It’s just you here, right?”

“Ah yeah, just me. Thanks, I do try my best.”

“Haha, I’m used to my guy friends all having super messy apartments until they get a girlfriend and she teaches them how to clean a stove for the first time…”

“Oh really? That’s a bit sad for them, isn’t it?” He chuckles. “I’m not dating anyone right now, so it’s all me.”

Just the information you were looking for. You try not to show your elation. “Why not?” you blurt out. Then you cringe because this might sound too invasive or even judgmental, but Kun only grins. “It’s just, it’s a little surprising. You’re such a generous person. You seem to care about everyone, even those poor stray kitties that stay outside the apartments all the time.”

He smiles timidly in response to receiving more of your compliments. “I guess it seems curious when you put it like that.” Just like when you’d drunkenly said I love you so much, there’s suddenly heat on the back of his neck that he hopes won’t turn into another blush that’ll expose him. “I don’t really know, I haven’t thought much about it; life’s weird like that.” He isn’t really sure how to answer that question in a way that won’t be too big of a hint that he’s interested in you, though he’s also not entirely sure why he’s still trying to hide it. Wouldn’t now be the perfect opportunity? When will you two have this much time together again? Still, you staying in his apartment for two days doesn’t mean you like him, and maybe he’s jumping the gun.

“That’s true. Guess that’s the same reason why I’ve been alone for a while now.” You shake your head.

“You?” Kun is equally surprised to know this about you.

You laugh incredulously. “Does that shock you or something?”

“I...well.” He rubs the back of his neck as he searches for the words. “I just thought...you’re very pretty, and you’re always really kind when we speak, so...”

“Oh?” Your face heats up at that.

“Yeah, I…think anyone would be lucky to be with you.”

“Oh.” Your body’s first instinct is to freeze with nervousness, but you know Charlotte would be kicking your ass in gear right now if she were somehow here. So, you decide to stop stressing about it and just do it. “Well...wouldn’t it be nice if we both had a way to fix our problems at the same time?”

Kun pauses for a moment before replying. “What do you suggest?” He knows what you are proposing—you can see in his eyes and his slight grin and his posture that he knows—but maybe he wants to hear you say it out loud.

“Hm, well…I don’t know, what do you think?” You lean a bit closer to him, raising your eyebrows and trying your best to look innocent and unassuming. His smile turns into something different with your increased proximity. Something a little more sly.

Mirroring your actions, he inches nearer to you until there’s little space left between. “Well, I think…” Kun tentatively closes the remaining gap between the two of you, the rest of his sentence left to linger as his soft lips envelop yours.

Maybe it’s corny to say it, but it definitely feels like one of those fairytale kisses with the fireworks going off and streamers popping; even though you’re sitting on his couch wearing his pajamas, some movie in the background you’ve long forgotten the plot of, empty dinner plates sitting on the coffee table in front of you.

You aren’t sure how you end up in his lap—who made the first move? Was it his hand on your back or your hands on his shoulders? You straddle him on the couch, your arms slipping around his shoulders and his hands on your back but assuredly traveling farther down your body.

Kun’s hands come to rest on your thighs, pulling the fabric of his shorts up a few inches higher. “I never thought I’d see you wearing my clothes,” he says lowly, grinning against your mouth.

“I also never thought I’d be sitting in your lap like this, but maybe sometimes dreams do come true,” you say jokingly, your lips rubbing against his skin as you slowly kiss his jaw.

You can’t see his expression, but his eyebrows shoot up at that. “Dreams, huh? You think about me often?” His voice pitches lower when he asks this, aroused by the thought of you imagining anything quite so lewd about him. You’ve definitely incriminated yourself now and won’t be able to wiggle out of it without an answer.

“...Maybe.”

“What do you think about me?” Kun grips your hips, which quickly turns into him grabbing your ass—tentatively at first to test the waters, and then firmly enough to grind you against his hardening cock. Sensing him solid and warm underneath you sends a shockwave down your spine, and the sensation heightens when his voice caresses your ear, all low and tense with arousal. “It’s just the two of us here. No one else has to know.”

“I think about your...lips. How you might kiss me. Or what you might say to me. And...your hands.” You pause there, a quiet breath whispering past your lips. “You have really big hands, you know.”

“My hands…” Kun places one on your chest, spreading his fingers across and touching your collarbone. The heel of his palm glides on the top of your breast, and just that touch is enough to get you more worked up. “Hmm. Actually, I’ll admit I’m pretty good with my hands.” He smirks, and he’s possibly the finest thing you’ve ever seen. “What else, Y/N?”

“I thought about how you’d touch me.” His hand slides between your breasts now, down your sternum, and to your stomach. “Maybe I’d invite you into my apartment when Charlotte wasn’t there. We’d watch some stupid movie and pretend to be into it, but we’re really just thinking about each other. You’d eventually end up slipping your hand up my skirt...and making me cum all over your fingers.”

You aren’t sure how you’re saying all this to Kun right now, the dude you have a major crush on, without bursting into flames.

His shaft rubbing against your clit even through your layers of clothes makes you sigh dreamily, pressing your forehead to his and gripping at his shoulders and biceps. His bangs are soft against your forehead, and your breath stutters when he moves to kiss the side of your neck. He has to know how hard your heart is beating right now.

“And then what?” His voice is barely a whisper, then.

“And then you’d fuck me, of course.” There’s a slight laugh in your voice at the ticklish feeling of his lips kissing your skin.

“And then I’d fuck you...hm,” he echoes. “Sure, I can do that.”

The promise of it entices you, and more heat pools between your legs, amplified by the fabric rubbing against your sensitive parts. His hand that’s still on your stomach travels under your shirt then, and your hips falter in your rhythm against him when his fingers brush across your nipple. He brings his lips to your other breast, lapping his tongue against your nipple over the fabric.

You soon come like this, his shaft grinding against your clit and his clothes rubbing against your skin, his hands on your ass and his lips traveling across your breasts. The orgasm is sudden and surprises you, but it’s good, and you convulse as the waves of pleasure course through you. You weaken and slump against him, with him still teasing your breasts with his mouth and hands. Pushing your face into his hair, you moan into the black strands until the quivering stops.

You’re breathless when you speak again. “You haven’t come yet.”

“I’d rather do that when I’m inside you,” he replies. You giggle quietly.

“...What are you waiting for, then?”

“Hold on.” Kun carefully maneuvers you off his lap, and you already want to complain at the lack of his touch. “I have to get a condom.”

“Hurry, or you’ll miss all the fun,” you say as you pull your shirt off with your back to him. You look back over your shoulder at him and grin mischievously.

“You’re such a tease…”

Kun goes into his room to fetch a condom, and when he returns he’s already pulling his shirt off, leaving it on the floor somewhere. You’re fully naked now, your legs pulled up to your chest and your chin resting on your knees as you sit on the couch. Kun’s eyes drop between your legs, your inner thighs still glistening from your previous orgasm, and he swipes his tongue across his lips at the sight of you, wet and ready for him.

Likewise, your eyes drop to the dark trail of hair leading into his pants and his bulge just below it, the way his sweatpants cling to his length, and your pussy throbs with the desire to be filled.

“Please, hurry.”

Kun doesn’t waste any time in getting the rest of his clothes off, shoving his pants and underwear done in one swift move and rolling the condom over his shaft. He climbs onto the couch, grabbing your legs and guiding them around his waist, and you giggle at his eager but gentle touch as you recline on the couch pillows behind you.

He grabs his dick and lines it up with you, then pushes it in slowly at first. The stretch makes your toes curl, but it is a good kind of stretch, the kind that fills you to the brim. Like the missing element you needed.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice husky from the pleasure.

“Fuck, please,” is your answer as you shift your hips and try to get him all the way inside quicker. Noticing your urgency, he slides the rest of the way in until your hips are flush against each other and starts thrusting into you. His length dragging across your walls feels much better than you could’ve imagined on any given night, and you clasp your legs tighter around him to get ever closer.

After a point, he pushes your legs up with his hands behind your knees so he can get a deeper angle, and you both moan at the difference in sensation and how much tighter you get around him.

There is no ignoring the messy wet noises of your bodies colliding due to the slickness of your previous orgasm and the new wetness he’s continually fucking out of you. Each thrust reaches deep inside you, deep enough to make you nearly sob, your hands fumbling over your breasts and your clit all the while.

“Kun, god yes please,” you whimper, rocking your hips into the rhythm of his own. You fucking him back makes him groan deeply, his bangs hanging off his forehead as he dips his head to watch himself slide in and out of you. You could not control the urge or the motion of your body even if you wanted to; you want all of him, as close as he can get.

“I don’t want this to end,” he moans, and he pulls out without a warning. You gasp at the sudden emptiness, and your discontent comes out in a full whine. You’d be more embarrassed about it if you weren’t currently consumed with desire, but you presently do not care.

Kun sits back on the couch and pulls you on top of him again. “Ride me,” he says. So you grasp the base of his cock, him grunting as you do, and you press the tip against your entrance before pushing it in. He watches himself slip inside of you while fully enraptured, one hand tight on your hip.

Once you are full with him again, you experimentally grind against him to see how it’ll feel in this new position, and your arms tremble as his pelvis stimulates your clit.

“Go ahead,” he whispers, grasping the nape of your neck and kissing you hard once more, “fuck yourself on me.”

So you keep grinding your clit on him like that, your limbs shaking from the stimulation and your walls fluttering around his cock. You can barely catch a complete breath from him kissing you hard enough to make your lips swell, and your head is so fogged with lust that all you can concentrate on is getting yourself off just like he told you to do.

“Kun…” You roll your head onto his shoulder, pressing your forehead into his skin, your body tiring as you get closer to reaching that high. You’re so close to coming, but you’re not sure if you have enough strength left to get there on your own. Kun notices the state you’re in and grasps your hips to pull them into his, effortlessly sliding himself into you while making sure your clit gets stimulated at the same time.

The new friction of his dick rubbing against your g-spot in this position is enough to have you finally coming and crying out against his neck.

You continue babbling nonsense against his neck as he keeps fucking you, searching for his own end. His hands are hot on your body as he moves you up and down his length.

His climax comes soon after yours, his dick pulsing and his pace slowing. Your back arches at the sensation of him throbbing inside you and releasing his cum into the condom. The way he groans in your ear has your stomach clenching.

For a few minutes after, you both sit quietly and do nothing but cling to one another as you come down from the pleasure.

“So, does this mean we’re together now…?” Kun asks hopefully, running his hands over your back as you lie against him.

You smile against his skin. “Obviously. But if you still want to convince me, we can go a couple more rounds…”

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

Gentle

number 3 on the poll was ‘the softest yennskier smut i can muster’ and y’all i don’t know that i’ve ever written softer smut? idk, y’all be the judge of that

shoutout to @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde for betaing this fic for me and being lovely and encouraging 💖

Warnings: well its smut, fwb to lovers, yen is scared of vulnerability and getting burned, penetrative sex, oral sex, m/f but don’t y’all think for a second these two aren’t bi as fuck. i don’t wanna hear any of that ‘but its a straight ship comfy!!!’ from anyone. understand? good.

______________________

“Bard, don’t start with me tonight.”

“Too late,” Jaskier hummed, looking up at her from where he was sprawled on the bed. He was, admittedly, a rather pleasing sight. His chest covered in a thick layer of hair and his legs long and lean. He looked like something one would paint. And he was lying on her bed, nearly naked, looking at her with a coy smile that held... too much. 

Yennefer didn’t often think things were too anything- painful, expensive, annoying- but this man was too sincere in everything he did, including wooing her. He called it wooing. She called it ‘following me around like an orphan pup’. 

Either way she’d already partially given in. She thought she was firm in her boundaries though, repeatedly claiming they were just fucking. This was just revenge and fun. She would not fall for anyone, especially not after the way all of her past relationships had ended in disaster.

She settled into her nighttime routine, taking out her earrings and wiping away her lipstick at the borrowed -not stolen- vanity across from the bed in the borrowed -not stolen- master suite she’d been staying in, “I am not one for love. Don’t get your hopes up.”

“You’re almost as much of a hopeless romantic as me,” Jaskier laughed, rolling so he was sitting at the end of the bed facing her.

She could see him in the mirror over her shoulder but resolutely ignored him. There was a long stretch of silence where he watched her take away all the different things she adorned herself with. From eyeliner to jewelry to the way she curled her hair, it was a very carefully constructed facade and she feared he may have seen through it. 

As she stood, he reached out and caught her hand, tugging her to stand in front of him. She raised an eyebrow, expecting a remark about her body, maybe even something about a strip tease before bed. But the bard continually surprised her.

“What’s wrong with a little vulnerability?”

She sighed and pulled her hand back, crossing her arms over her dressing gown and rocking back on her heels, “Do we need to do this right now?” 

Jaskier stood, so close that she could feel the warmth radiating off him, but he kept his hands to himself as much as she could see he wanted to touch her, “You don’t want to know someone? To let them take care of you for once?”

“No.” Her stare was resolute but her voice wavered, even on such a small word.

“Why not?”

She pursed her lips and held back the immediate insult she’d thought. He deserved an answer if she really was going to let him stay, and she knew she would. Whatever the reason, she found she didn’t want to be without him anymore.

“It hurts,” she whispered, hoping he would understand and let her be. Or better yet distract her. 

He ran his hand down her arm, fingertips dancing across her skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake. He said nothing, just watched and waited, completely open and patient and infuriating in his persistence. She could easily go for the kill, both metaphorically and literally, but she knew she wouldn’t. This was the first person in decades who had bothered with her. She didn’t count Geralt anymore. There was so much magic and Destiny and manipulation tangled up in their relationship that she’d lost track of any sincerity. 

No, the bard was genuine. He didn’t have any other motive but to love her. And the thought terrified her. 

She shook her head and looked at the ground, “You don’t understand. I haven’t… I’ve never had a love that ended well.”

Jaskier smiled and tucked her hair behind her ear, “Only the shitty ones do.”

A puff of air left her before she could conceal her amusement.

“You don’t have to be scared. I want to be gentle with you. In every way. I want you to know what it’s like to be taken care of,” Jaskier’s whisper spoke directly to the part of her she’d kept locked away for far too long. The part of her that yearned to be held for nothing other than lying close; that wanted sweet nothings and breathless kisses and actual lovemaking, not just goal oriented sex. 

Her tongue worked of its own accord, used to acting only in defense, “How many times have you used that line?” 

A moment of hurt flashed over Jaskier’s face before those big blue eyes were framed with a kind of sadness only someone who’d known the sting of neglect could understand, “Not once.” 

She searched his eyes for something, anything that she could use to push him away, but found nothing. For once her choice was simple; take what is freely and sincerely offered, or continue on miserable and alone. 

For once, she took a risk. 

Yennefer draped her arms over his shoulders, tilting her chin up to level him with what she hoped was the pleading expression she was going for, “Just don’t lie to me.” 

Jaskier pressed their foreheads together and rested his hands on her hips, “I won’t.” 

It had been a lifetime since Yennefer had believed someone like she believed Jaskier and it settled achingly into the pit of her stomach. She leaned in and stood on her tiptoes, brushing their lips together as she took a shaky breath in. 

When they finally kissed it was… calm. There was no unquenchable fire sparking in her belly, no stirring need to cling to him as if she’d never see him again. They were simply together, and the realization made her giggle.

Jaskier rested a hand at her jaw, brushing his thumb over her cheek as he nervously chuckled along, “What?”

She bit her lip and stared up at him through her lashes, running her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, “It’s nothing…”

“Hmm, doesn’t seem like nothing,” Jaskier’s tone was light as he sat back onto the bed, pulling her to straddle his hips, “What’s so funny?”

“S’not funny,” she sighed, pausing to kiss him again, feeling the same sense of calm, “Just... nice.”

“Just nice?” Jaskier was beaming up at her as he held her close to him, “I think I can do better than nice.”

She raised her eyebrows and grinned, brushing his fringe out of his eyes, “It wasn’t a challenge.”

He tilted his head back and forth and scrunched his nose as if to argue before laying back on the bed and pulling her with him. She braced herself on her elbows, one on each side of his head, as he trailed his hands up and down her sides. 

This kiss was different.

This kiss set her whole body on fire, not the desperate kind that made her frantic, but a slow, hot-burning flame that she wanted to sink into and let consume her. 

Jaskier clutched her to him as he rolled them over, gently brushing her hair out of her face and placing feather light kisses over her cheeks, eyes, brow, chin, everywhere he could reach. She sighed when he finally kissed her lips, tangling her fingers in his hair and pulling. 

Jaksier chuckled, “Mmm, greedy? Impatient?”

“Whichever you like,” Yennefer gasped, not quite slipping the teasing tone in with her words, distracted as he sucked a dark red mark right behind her ear. She tugged at the hem of his smalls and he quickly kicked them off, giving her a pointed look. 

“You promised better than nice,” she countered, giving a small shrug as he hovered over her again.

He hummed as he moved down her neck, chest, and finally made it to her silk robe, “Shall we get rid of this? Don’t- Don’t do it yourself,” he grabbed her hands and pinned them by her head, not with much force but she still felt a heat pool in her core, “I want to.”

She nodded and stared at him in awe as he carefully untied the delicate silk belt and softly, oh so fucking softly, brushed the material over her shoulder. The cool slide on her skin sent shivers down her spine and his warm, calloused fingers were a delicious contrast. 

He skipped her breasts completely, kissing a trail down over her stomach, leaving a small circle of delicate kisses around her navel as he held her hips almost reverently. Unlike his normally teasing habits, he wasted no time in freeing her from her simple lingerie, holding her thighs where he wanted and leaving more kisses along the inside of her knee. Every now and then his fringe would brush over the delicate skin and Yennefer would gasp, reaching for him, any part of him, as if it would ground her and dull the feeling of lightning traveling beneath her skin to a manageable shock. Even when she got her hand in his hair, it didn’t change how she gasped when his tongue tickled the crease of her hips or how she shivered when he nosed along the soft curls between her legs. 

“J-Julian,” She keened, then bit her lip and stared at the ceiling in mute horror. She remembered vividly when he’d shouted at several different people for using that name, for pretending to know him well enough. 

He licked up her folds, making sure to look her in the eyes as he spoke, “Say it again.”

Her breath hitched when he spread her apart and flicked his tongue over her clit, it was no trouble at all to let out a needy sigh of his name over and over again. 

When she tensed her thighs, he held them open, and when her hands curled into fists in his hair, he only groaned. He worked slowly, and any other time she would be annoyed at his pace, but this time she relaxed and let him take care of her. Let him delicately stretch her until he felt she was ready as his free hand stroked any bit of soft bare skin he could reach. 

“Julian, please,” she begged, and for once it wasn’t performative. She needed him. Needed him so acutely she wasn’t entirely sure what she’d do if she couldn’t have him in her immediately. 

He rested his forehead on her hip, breathing heavy as he slowly circled her clit with his thumb, “Tell me what you want.”

“You know,” she whined, clenching around his fingers. She’d deny it in the morning, but she whined. It almost startled her when she realised that, like this, she was completely at his disposal and she didn’t mind one bit. Anything he said she would agree to, anything he did, she would follow his lead. 

He crawled up her body, leaving kisses in his wake, her skin on fire wherever they touched, “Let me hear it?"

“I need you, all of you. Please?”

Jaskier’s breath came out shaky before he kissed her, “You’ll have everything I am,” he whispered.

For a moment she wondered if she was supposed to hear his words. They sounded almost like a confession, so softly spoken that it was almost impossible to tell he’d said anything at all. But she was quickly distracted by his tongue on her lips as they kissed and his cock sliding through her slick folds. She moaned softly, her hands sweeping up his chest to cup his jaw and hold him close. 

Nothing else mattered. Not their troubles, not their heartbreak, not the politics they’d found themselves in the middle of. The other person was all they had the consciousness for and they completely consumed each other. 

Jaskier finally broke away gasping and adjusted so the head of his cock was positioned at her entrance. He looked into her eyes and before he could ask, she breathed a soft “yes” and kissed his nose. Their foreheads rested together as he slowly pushed in, blue eyes locked with violet as they both gasped and hissed. Neither of them moaned wantonly like before, neither of them put on a show, and certainly no one grunted in frustration. They moved in a gentle rhythm together, each taking the time to really feel the other and hold them close. 

For the first time in such a long time, Yennefer was content.

She didn’t realize she’d squeezed her eyes shut until Jaskier kissed her again, probably several minutes later, and whispered, “Look at me.”

He looked at her like she was his only guide, only anchor keeping him in this world. There was a light sheen of sweat on his forehead and his cheeks were as rosy as his kiss-swollen lips and Yennefer wished she could capture the image forever. She thought of painting him again, if only she could paint worth shit.  

He kissed her again and breathed, “close,” as he picked up his pace. She nodded, wrapping one leg around his hips and reaching between them to circle her clit as he thrust. 

She came first with a gasp and soft “oh” as she did her best to keep her eyes on him, let alone open. She truly didn’t remember the last time she was so quiet when she orgasmed, or the last time she caressed her lover instead of digging her nails into their back. Her body shivered, but it wasn’t earth shattering. Nothing about it would be memorable aside from the way he looked at her. 

The adoration and unbridled passion behind his gaze would haunt her forever. Only time would tell if she’d be glad to see his ghost. 

She wrapped her other leg around him as the fog began to lift, leaving her just on the pleasant side of over-sensitive. Jaskier buried his face in her neck as she smoothed her hands over his back, trailing her fingers down his spine and turning to kiss his temple. She cradled his head to her as he came, body shaking as he whispered her name like a prayer. 

Her hands roamed his body, reveling in the softness of his skin and the power held in his frame as she gently soothed any tightness in his muscles. After a while she settled to carding her fingers through his hair as he rested his cheek on her collarbone. He’d slipped out as he softened, but they laid still, Yen enjoying the comforting weight while Jaskier recovered. 

“Are you alright?” she whispered her question, tucking her chin in to try to get a look at his face. 

He just hummed and nodded, turning his head to face her with a dreamy smile.

A bright smile spread across her features and she kissed his forehead, “Do I get to call you Julian now?”

One of his arms snaked up under her back as he snuggled in closer, “Only you.”

Yennefer paused, holding her breath as she debated whether what she thought was worth saying.

“Spit it out, love,” Jaskier spoke through a yawn.

She let out a breathy laugh and wrapped her arms around his shoulders before she whispered, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Wanting to… to take care of me.”

[cottoncanb]

Sunday Kind of Love (Calum Hood Imagine)

Hey guys, I hope you're all well and taking care of yourselves. I hope you guys like this, I am a little rusty (it's been a while since I've written). This piece is special to me, not just because I can't get Calum out of my head but also because it's personal. In this, Y/N is black. I've noticed there aren't a lot of POC writers and I want to do my best to play my part. Of course anyone and everyone is welcome to read it but I did write this with black women in mind.

Synopsis: The one in which Cal and Y/N’s spend their first Valentine’s Day together.

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: lots of fluff

I hope you like it, let me know what your favourite part is.

Be kind to yourself, and others. I love you.

-----------------------------------------------------

Valentine’s day had never been anything special for Y/N. Maybe once or twice she and a friend had been valentines, but there was never anything romantic about it. Did she expect anything different this year? Not necessarily, because she understood the danger that came with expectations. Almost every year she expected just someone to show her interest on the stupid day, maybe buy her a chocolate bar or even a single rose. It never happened. Naturally, she lost hope as the disappointment grew over the years.

Now, though, there is a sliver of hope because she is in a relationship with Calum. It may only have been a few months of their dating but that didn't mean her feelings for him weren't stronger than ever. As cheesy as it sounds, it felt like she had found her soulmate in him. And maybe just maybe this year she wanted to celebrate Valentine’s day. She wasn't expecting a room full of flowers and princess treatment (though she wouldn't be one to complain), just a romantic dinner would do.

She didn't tell Cal this, didn't know how to. The vulnerability that came with saying she wanted to be treated on that day was all too much. Cal, on the other hand, was a step ahead. He always wanted to treat his girl. This would be his chance to do it for the first time and he was not going to miss out on this opportunity. He’d planned every detail of their day, he wanted it to be perfect for his love.

Their day started with Y/N feeling his lips peppering kisses all over her face.

“Good morning to you too,” she said with a hint of amusement in her voice. It wasn't morning anymore, they had both slept in.

“Hi,” Cal said, finally bringing his lips to where he wanted most and giving her a soft kiss. “Sleep well?” he asked, nuzzling his head in the crook of her neck, pressing his lips there. A soft hum sounded from Y/N as she lifted her hand to his head, burying her fingers in his curls. They lay together for a moment, enjoying their closeness. He traced his fingertips over her arms, a small smile playing on his lips when he felt goosebumps rise on her soft skin.

“I want to ask you something,” he said, whispering even though it was just the two of them in his room. He lifted his head, bringing his eyes to meet hers. “Will you be my valentine?” he said, his voice is hushed like even the smallest rise of his intonation could burst the bubble they were in. Y/N’s eyes came alive, and for a moment she was speechless. She stared back at him, waiting for him to smile and say he is joking and yet he didn’t. He was completely serious, eyes focused on hers.

“Of course I will,” her voice was small and she hoped she hid the nerves that suddenly made themselves known to her. She lifted her lips to his, pressing firmly against them. He brought his hands to her waist, fingers ghosting over the skin there before gaining a firm grasp on her waist. Their touches were soft and delicate, like the bubble they’re in. They moved with no hurry, he planted a few small kisses on her lips before catching her bottom lip between his.

He pulled away from the kiss first. “Alright, I don't want to get carried away. I've got your day planned, I'm sending you to a spa first while I set up for tonight. You’ve got an afternoon full of pampering”, he told her while rolling his body off hers. She pouted, wanting to stay in bed longer and have his body near hers but she couldn’t ignore the tinge of excitement she felt at the thought of being pampered. “I also made you breakfast, you need to eat before you leave,” he said, walking over to her side of the bed and pressing a kiss on her cheek before walking toward the door.

“And where are you going?”, finally bringing her body from the comfort of the mattress. He turned back and gave her a smile, a glint of mischief in his eyes before he sauntered out of the room. She fell back onto the mattress, smiling as she stared at the ceiling. This was her first Valentine’s day.

--------------------------------

As per Calum’s request, Y/N spent the afternoon at a spa sipping wine and being pampered. She had a fresh set of nails, threaded eyebrows, a relaxed body, glowing skin and newly braided hair. She also got her makeup done at the spa, Cal told them to make her look even more beautiful than she already is. She looked and felt good. She felt even better walking into Calum’s home with a newfound air of confidence. It probably wouldn't last long, Cal turned her to putty with something as simple as a glance.

The house was quiet when she walked in, like no one had been in it for a few hours. It was dark too, with the exception of a single light that was on in his bedroom. “Cal, you here?” she said into the empty house. Met with no response, Y/N walked toward the light and into his bedroom. On his bed lay a single box with a note and rose atop it.

“Y/N,

I hope you enjoyed your afternoon. I’ve got your gifts wrapped in here. Please put them on for me. I’ll see you at 7.

-Cal”

She set the note and rose aside before carefully lifting the cover of the box. In it lay a dress, a necklace, a pair of heels (they weren't high, he knew she didn't like those) and a set of lingerie. Carefully, Y/N picked the dress up. It's made of a delicate red silk material, she marveled at its beauty with a smile playing on her lips. Next she picked up the lace ensemble, it was light in her hands. The black material lay in her fingers, intricate patterns danced over the bralette. Giddily she set it down before picking up the rose and doing a little dance. She felt like a thirteen year old who'd just been asked out by her crush.

She didn't have much to do in terms of getting ready. Her hair wasn’t in an afro so she didn't need to style it, her makeup was done; all she had to do was get dressed. Lifting the dress, she walked to the bathroom and got ready to put it on. Once she'd removed her last article of clothing, she picked the lingerie up and ran her eyes over the dainty material. It didn’t leave much to imagination (exactly why Calum had picked it). When it was on her skin Y/N turned and faced the mirror. Her eyes glanced over her body, a look of satisfaction on her face. She dragged the tips of her fingers from her hips to her neck, admiring how sexy she felt. Next, she eyed the dress, picking it up before slipping it on. She turned and grabbed the heels that Calum had selected, they were black with a thin strap across the toe. With the necklace in her hand, she walked back to the mirror and was proud of what she saw. With one final look to the mirror, she grinned before walking to sit on the bed and wait for Cal to get her.

---------------------------------------

Cal appeared at the door of his room not long after. He was dressed in a black suit, it was an amazing fit. His hair was styled and he’d painted his nails black. He looked good. When their eyes met his breath hitched, he hoped she didn't notice. She looked perfect in his eyes. Planting himself in front of her, he held his hand out for her to take and she did. Once on her feet, Cal pressed a single kiss on her lips before bringing his lips to her ear “You look perfect.”

He led her out of his room and outside into the garden of his home. A small gasp escaped Y/N’s lips as she took in the scenery, he placed fairy lights in the trees and lanterns hung from branches. He led her to the table and pulled her chair out, kissing her shoulder before he went and sat himself down. “I’m no MasterChef, but I did try my best,” Cal said, arms waving over the two plates set before them. Lifting the cover off of hers first, her eyes met lasagna. It looked a little burnt but she didn't mind. Cal made it so she loved it. He lifted the cover off of his plate and gestured for her to start eating. They ate in a comfortable silence. Every once in a while one would catch the other staring. Y/N felt warm all over. Cal watched her with an eye of adoration, his eyes saying all he couldn't at that moment.

“Are you finished?”Cal asked, breaking the quiet that had enveloped them. She nodded and cast a smile at him, thanking him silently for the meal. He gathered their plates and took them in the house and when he returned she heard music playing softly. He was playing their song- Sunday Kind of Love. Y/N rose to her feet and met Cal who was walking toward her. He took her hands and placed them on his shoulders, snaking his around waist where they settled before he pulled her toward him.

They swayed to the beat of the song, Cal leading their movements. Y/N rested her head on Cal’s chest, she could hear his heart beating if she focused hard enough. Cal was singing softly in her ear, pausing every odd minute to press a kiss on her cheek or forehead. When the song came to an end, she lifted her head off his shoulder and looked at him with doughy eyes.

“I have something really cheesy to say”, he started, she laughed softly. “I know we haven't been together all that long but we’ve been together almost a year and this year with you is the happiest I've been in a while. That's because of you. You're like this irresistible light to me. I tried to stay away from you, believe me I did,” he paused chuckling, “but I'm happy I didn't because I get to call you my girl. You're my Sunday love. Mine. Today, especially, this means a lot. I know I haven't been the easiest person to be around but you've stuck with me and I appreciate that, Y/N. I just- I like you so much it hurts sometimes? Like I can't think straight and I want to live inside you?”. She throws her head back at this, he takes a mental picture of this moment because she looked so happy and he loved it.

“I like you a lot too, Cal.”

“No, I don't think you get it. I just- I don't know how to explain it but I just like you. A lot.”

“Yes, Cal, I get it. I really like you too.”

“But I really, really like you,” he said. Suddenly it hit him. He looked in her eyes which stared back at him fondly, a look of amusement in them as she watched him try to articulate his feelings. He loved her. He was in love with her. Once he realized it, it wouldn't stop playing in his head. It was like an incessant chant, repetitive and loud; it needed to be said.

“I love you.”

Y/N paused for a moment, he’d left her speechless once again. Hearing those words was foreign to her. She didn’t know she could be loved and here this perfect man was telling her the words she so desperately wanted to hear from a young age. Y/N grew up being told she wasn't lovable because of how she looked or acted, a bunch of stereotypes being shoved at her. She was too dark or too loud or too “manly-looking” or she wasn't someone's type because they couldn't look past her race. For a long time, this ate at her confidence, left her questioning if she could ever truly be loved for Y/N and not the Y/N someone wanted her to be. This was a lot to take in. She loved him too, of course she did. She knew it months ago when she watched him doing silly dances with Duke to cheer her up after she’d had a rough day; she just didnt know how to tell him.

“Love?” he breaks her train of thought, “I can hear you thinking from here. What's on your mind? You don't have to say it back. I understand if this is too soon, or if you just don't feel the same. I just wanted to let you know because-". She’d cut him off by kissing him. Her eyebrows furrowed with focus as she did so, wrapping her arms tighter around his neck and pulling herself flush against his chest. After pressing a few kisses on his lips, with the swipe of her tongue she parted his lips softly. He gripped her waist tighter at the feel of his tongue against hers, bringing an arm up to the back of her neck resting it under her braids and caressing the skin there.

“I love you too,” Y/N whispered, resting her forehead against his. She breathed heavily, as did he. He didn't mind. She loved him. She loved him. She closed her eyes for a moment, the intimacy getting too much. She felt like she was on cloud nine, feeling her heart pumping and trying to gather herself and calm down. He was the same. Except he stared at the woman in front of him. The woman he loved and cherished and he couldn't help but pull her onto him for a hug. He lifted her off of her feet for a moment before setting her back down, she let out a little squeal at this before looking at him once more. He brought his hand up to meet hers at his shoulders, bringing them in front of them both and pressing a kiss on them. Her heart fluttered at this.

“You love me?” he said, a childlike innocence lacing his voice.

“Yep. And you love me,” she said.

[tiifalockhart]

First Love

Pairing: Tseng x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of death, fighting, stalking, alludes to depression and moral consequences

Word Count: 2k

A/N: hi friends, I’m posting two things this fine morning in preparation for my disappearance this weekend. I figured I would write something about Tseng since he’s become my comfort character lately. I hope you enjoy!! feedback is always appreciated

Ao3 || Masterlist

From the moment the two of you first met, you couldn't really help but find how insanely attractive Tseng is. His eyes, his nose, his lips, his structure, his hair, the way he carries himself? You felt you could pass out on the spot from the way he looked at you.

The first time you two met, it was mostly a simple mistake. He didn't mean to become distracted by you in the Sector 5 slums. Tseng accidentally bumped into you while following Aerith. He had been quite a distance away from her, so she hadn't noticed and managed to disappear from his sight. Giving up on it, he turned towards you, readying himself to apologize before realizing you had disappeared. He looked around in confusion, before looking down, seeing you kneeled down in front of him and picking up bread that had fallen out of your basket.

He raised his brows in surprise, kneeling down next to you to help. "I apologize, I'm afraid didn't see you." Tseng murmured, placing the bread back in the basket.

You smiled weakly. "Oh... No worries, I'll just go home and bake some more bread..." You reassured, not looking at him. Once you fixed the basket and placed all the spoiled bread back in it, you stood and finally looked up at him.

Your eyes widened slightly once your gazes met. He looked so smooth, so professional and neat... He was very attractive. Embarrassment flooded your features as you looked down, staring at the basket in your hand. "I apologize for getting in your way." You stated awkwardly.

Tseng furrowed his brows in confusion, tilting his hand to the side. "I should be the one apologizing." He corrected with a soft chuckle. His voice was so nice to listen to. "You are the one who ended up dropping your things. What was the basket for?" He questioned curiously.

"Oh... It was for the senior center. I figured I would do something nice for them since things have been rough around the slums lately." You explained, glancing up at him. There was a very slight glint of guilt in his eyes. "But don't worry! I have plenty of materials left over to make more, it's quite alright-"

Tseng shook his head, holding up a hand to stop you from continuing on with your excuses and apologies. You were rendered speechless at this, not only was it effective, but it was also very hot. "I'll take you home and bring you back so no one else can knock your bread out of your hand." He decided with a firm nod. You found it very kind from someone who seemed stoic.

"I suppose that will work, then." You answered with a smile, beginning to guide him back to your small home. "If I may ask... What are you doing around the slums? You seem like you belong up top." You remarked, snickering softly.

"I was... Visiting someone. It isn't often I come around the slums, unfortunately, I don't know my way." He lied easily, following you closely. "You said earlier that things are rough lately... How come?" Tseng questioned, mentally hitting himself for sounding like an interrogator.

You didn't seem to notice, simply shrugging. "One of the older men died recently, he was murdered. Someone claims he was assassinated by some guys from Shinra... She mentioned the Turks, but crime has been at an all-time high, so I doubt it." You explained simply, shrugging. Tseng let out a breath of relief when you finished speaking. He remembered the older male. Unfortunately, he got too close to Aerith, and that was an issue.

"That's unfortunate... I'm sorry to hear that." He responded smoothly, clasping his hands behind his back as he walked. "It's very kind of you to do something like this for them. I'm sure their loss is hard."

"I'm sure... I wanted to ease the pain in whatever way I could." You sighed, unlocking your door and letting him inside. "It isn't much, feel free to make yourself comfortable." You said as he entered, smiling and heading into the kitchen.

You couldn't take your mind off of him, even when he was physically there with you. Often times while he was speaking, your eyes would fall to his lips for half a second before returning back to his gaze. You hoped he didn't notice this, it was quite... Embarrassing to fall for someone so easily.

But of course, he noticed. He noticed everything about you within the span of only a couple of minutes. The way Tseng analyzed you and took note of every habit he could find somewhat amused him. You were shy, clearly infatuated with him, and also very trusting. He could ask anything from you, and you'd tell him the truth without missing a beat. This would be useful in the future, but for now, he would simply humor your infatuation.

At least, that was the plan. He hadn't realized it until you two were about to part, but he had also grown a liking for you. When you were saying your goodbyes, he felt a bit... Sad? Or maybe he was looking forward to the next time he was going to see you. The feeling was unfamiliar... But he did enjoy your presence, so he took it as a good thing.

You, however, dreaded your separation. You had grown to like him a lot. He listened very well, and he was very attractive and caring. It was probably a small crush you developed over the hour or two you had spent together, but you weren't really ready for him to go yet. Once he dropped you off at the senior center, you turned to him and smiled sadly. "It was nice meeting you. I don't think I ever caught your name." You pointed out awkwardly, tucking your hair behind your ear.

He raised his brows in surprise and confusion, before offering an easy smile. "My name is... Tseng." He introduced himself, furrowing his brows. "I don't tell anyone usually, so you're one of the few who know it." Tseng explained, a small smirk on his lips.

You nodded happily, returning the smile. "Your secret is safe with me." You responded in a joking tone.

After that, Tseng made it a goal to visit you once every two weeks. Mostly to keep tabs on what's been happening in Sector 5, but also to simply enjoy your presence and existence. He wouldn't admit it just yet, but he found your presence comforting. Something about excusing himself from work to come visit you was relaxing. Yes, he was using you for an informant without you knowing, but he also making sure you were okay. It was... Kinda romantic.

You never expected to see him again after your first meeting, it was unexpected when he showed up on your doorstep with some of Aerith's flowers. He was kind, romantic, and sweet, all while holding it under a stoic impression. You quickly fell in love with him, unable to control it as it felt inevitable. You often found yourself staring back at his lips whenever he was speaking, basically holding yourself back from kissing him right there. You could never tell anyone else that you were in love with a mystery man, they would never believe you, especially since his visits were so far apart. But every single visit, you would fall head over heels all over again, the two of you growing closer and closer.

Unfortunately, there was a point in time where he was missing for a while. After the bombing of Reactor One, he hadn't shown his face in the slums for a long time after that. It wasn't until about a full month later when he appeared again, this time he looked more exhausted and troubled.

You assumed this was because of the Sector 7 Plate falling. You wanted to ask, but were afraid that he might have lost friends or family in the tragedy, so you simply provided support. You were in the middle of cooking a meal for him when you noticed his distracted state. He seemed to just... Stare off with a troubled expression. Knowing that you wouldn't be able to get him to talk about it, you simply paused on your cooking and walked over, wrapping your arms around him from behind.

He flinched at first, surprised by the sudden touch, but he allowed it, relaxing from it and melting into it. A soft sigh left his lips, that single sound holding a lot of weight to it. You figured you should say something to ease the pain. "It might not be okay now... But one day, it will be." You whispered comfortingly, pressing your lips to his shoulder and looking up at him.

Tseng glanced back at you, noticing how hope gleamed in your eyes. The emotional burden of the plate falling was hard to deal with, but he couldn't imagine how it affected you. Yet, here you were, supporting him of all people. Slowly, he turned in your arms, cupping your cheeks and allowing a weak smile to form on his lips. "You're a blessing." He whispered as he wrapped his arms around you. The two of you embraced each other for a moment, your eyes closed as you enjoyed each other's warmth.

Finally, you pulled away to continue cooking, before feeling Tseng grab onto your hand and stop you. When you turned back to look at him, he seemed unsure as to why he did it as well. You opened your mouth to question him but instead, you felt his lips stop you. Once you processed what was happening, you felt your entire face turn red.

Tseng was... Kissing you?

You quickly pushed the confusion away and melted into the kiss, returning it happily as you reached up to cup his cheek. His skin was so soft, his touches gentle and barely there. He treated you like delicate porcelain glass, afraid that he might break you with the wrong touch.

Once the two of you pulled away, you kind of felt yourself lost in a trance. Feeling his gloved hand cup your cheek brought you back to reality to see his gentle gaze locked with yours. Both of you seemed to be rendered speechless, unsure of what to say, but in the end, it didn't matter. It was a comfortable silence as you returned back to cooking and Tseng waited patiently. Even when you two ate, you hardly spoke. Your hands brushed over each other slightly, before Tseng gently took yours into his, his thumbs brushing over your knuckles.

Finally, he had to leave. It was unfortunate. You truly wanted him to stay for longer, maybe even the night. You longed for more of his time and touches, you were tempted to ask him to stay, but you didn't. He would be back soon, wouldn't he?

As he left, your hands lingered on his, hesitantly pulling away as he left. You watched him walk off, an uneasy feeling on your chest. You didn't know when you would see him again, and that made you nervous. What if he never came back? Or... What if you were gone by the time he did? The future was uncertain, and you wished you could have answers now, but you'd simply rely on fate to bring you two back together.

For now, you knew that you were in love, and your motivation to continue on was the chance of seeing him again. You'd keep waiting on him, no matter how long it took.

[berrynarrybanana]

Babyhoney

A/N: I’m sorry that I am a day late for my own challenge everyone, but it’s been a hectic week! I would like to thank everyone who is participating in The Sex Bucketlist Challenge first off. It’s been so nice chatting with everyone and seeing what they’ve come up with. I admittedly have done more plot than smut in this, but I hope the smut is still worth it lol. Thank you to my sweet group chat angels for reading over the doc I shared with them and making suggestions and edits and I would especially like to think the lovely @fromyourstrulyh​ for correcting all of my mistakes and @soullikestyles for setting me straight and making some wonderful suggestions. 

Word Count: 6982

Warnings: Smut (obvs), secret relationship, fifties!auPrompt: Against a tree, cockwarming, drive in! 

Links: Nightie | Car | Ring | Summer Dress 

 June 15, 1952 | 9:15 AM

It wasn’t my alarm clock that woke me up on Friday morning. 

Three weeks into summer and I was living in sinful bliss with the man of my dreams. After graduation and my eighteenth birthday, my life slipped into a peaceful routine. I would sleep in until nine-thirty before waking up slowly. I would join my Mother downstairs for coffee and we would spend an hour talking about our plans for the day. This particular Friday morning, my Mother had an appointment that pulled her away from our daily coffee routine. That left me with a little more time to sleep in before I actually had to start my day. 

Or so I thought. 

When I opened my eyes, the bright sunshine beaming into my eyes, I heard a series of tapping from my bedroom window. I groaned, sitting up slowly before I glanced over to see the one person I least expected. I scrambled out of bed, quick to push my window up so that Harry could fall into my bedroom before anyone in the neighborhood saw him. I looked back at him with wide eyes when he fell into my room, reaching out to grab my arms as a method of steadying himself. It took him all of ten seconds to trail his eyes over the nightgown that I had chosen the night before. It was a light blue material that was definitely more sheer in the daylight. I cleared my throat, crossing my arms over my chest as he flashed me his signature smirk. 

“Well what do we have here?” He said softly, brushing his fingers down the material as my face grew hot. “Do Mummy and Daddy know that you sleep like this?” 

“Don’t start teasing me, Harry.” I pouted my lips out. “I’ve just woken up, barely opened my eyes before I heard you knocking at my window like some kind of burglar.” 

“I’m sorry babyhoney.” He lowered his head, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead right below my hairline. “Will you forgive me for disrupting your beauty sleep?”

“I suppose.” I grumbled, fighting off my smile as he chuckled. “I thought we were meeting up at the park?” 

“I couldn’t wait.” He shrugged, sliding his hands up to grip my sides tightly in his long fingers, he pulled me forward, brushing his nose against mine. “Missed my girl too much. Couldn’t wait any longer to see her.” 

“You’re ridiculous.” I sighed, tipping my head back as he kissed gently over the apple of my cheek. “I shouldn’t have told you that my Mother was away this morning. Then again, I didn’t know you’d turn into such a desperate man at the prospect of spending time in bed with me.” 

“Who said anything about spending time in bed?” He pulled back, lifting a hand up to cup my cheek with his palm, brushing his thumb over my hot cheek. “I’ve changed you, haven’t I? Turned you into a sex crazed little honey.” 

“I am no such thing Harry Edward Styles!” I gasped, playfully pushing at his shoulder as he chuckled along with me. “You take that back.” 

“I will not.” He shook his head. “Now give me a proper kiss babyhoney, my lips are feeling a little lonely.”

“Tell me why I should kiss you after a statement like that?” I pouted, pulling my head back as he leaned forward. “Give me one good reason and I’ll give you a very nice, slow kiss.” 

“Hmm, because you love me?” He asked, raising his brows. “Is that good enough?” 

“Well, I guess.” I let out a dramatic sigh, rolling my eyes at him. He chuckled, shaking his head before he leaned forward. 

I carried out my promise, kissing him soft and slow. It was just how he liked it, something I learned within our first week of dating back in junior high. We had been together for nearly five years now, our entire relationship a secret to the outside world. I pulled back from our current kiss, shaking my head as a whine broke from Harry’s throat. I opened my eyes, looking up at him with a soft smile. It took him a second to open his eyes, basking in the afterglow of our kiss for as long as he possibly could. I kissed his chin before pushing up on my toes, kissing up his jawline.

 He tilted his head to the side, digging his fingers into my sides as I looped my own arms behind his neck. It didn’t take long before Harry was pushing me back towards my bed, his lips finding mine once more. When I fell back onto my bed, Harry wasted no time before dropping to his knees. His palms massaged over my outer thigh as he pressed soft kisses over my kneecaps. I smiled down at him, lifting a hand to push the long hairs at the top of his head back. 

He glanced up at me, a cheeky grin on his mouth. 

“Do you have work today?” I asked softly. “I don’t want to disrupt your schedule?” 

“I go in later.” He said softly. “I promised you lunch in the park, remember? M’gonna give you just that.” 

“But I thought we were going to the drive-in tonight?” My brows furrowed as he slipped his fingers higher up, hooking them in the waistband of my panties. “dreamboat, you promised we would go see the new film with Grace Kelly. You know that I love her.” 

“I know, babyhoney.” He cooed softly as I shifted on my bum, allowing him to slip my panties down to my knees before he pulled them off of me completely. “We’re gonna go to the drive-in, I promise.” 

“Okay.” I said softly, sliding my fingers from his hair to grip his chin. “We don’t have time for this, dreamboat. You’re gonna be late and we won’t get to have our picnic.” 

“Baby, stop being so anxious.” He mumbled, turning his head to kiss my inner wrist. “I have enough time for a little taste, I promise.” 

“Well...if you’re late don’t blame me.” I said softly, releasing his chin as he shot me a toothy grin, his dimple carved out just for me. “I suppose a little taste wouldn’t hurt.” 

“Think it’s better than breakfast if I’m honest.” He started to litter soft kisses to the inside of my thighs, his hands pulling my legs further apart as he made his way up. “Really is a good way to start my day.” 

“I do quite like the glow I get after we fool around.” I giggled, dropping my upper half back onto my bed. “Can’t buy that in a bottle, that’s for sure.”

“Oh honey.” Harry laughed loudly at my statement. “What am I going to do with you?” 

12:00 PM 

Harry kept his promise to me. 

When I hopped on the back of his motorcycle, there was a small picnic basket attached to the back that didn’t normally sit there. We went to a park outside of town that we frequented. The locals knew us there, but we never ran into anyone from our own town during our trips. He confessed that he stole his Mother’s kitchen tablecloth and he worked with Gemma to fix up lunch for both of us. There was a full spread laid out in front of us. Harry took great care in making sure my favorite dessert was tucked away in his picnic basket. When we were done eating, I curled into his side while he read aloud from his favorite book. It was like a small piece of heaven, lying in the sunshine with him. I loved to hear his voice reciting romantic words from the likes of Jane Austen and Emily Bronte. My eyes started to slip shut when he neared the end of a chapter of Emma, the current romance novel we were indulging in together.

“Babyhoney.” Harry kissed the top of my head several times. “You need to keep your eyes open, my sweet little sloth.” 

“So tired, Harry.” I let out a loud yawn, turning in my spot so that my face was hidden in his side. He chuckled softly as I groaned. “Your voice lulls me right to sleep.” 

“S’that a compliment?” He asked, a teasing lilt to his voice. 

“Yes, dreamboat.” I let out a heavy sigh, pushing up on my arms before pressing a sloppy kiss to his lips. “Love you.” 

“I love you more.” He rubbed the tip of his moan against mine and I giggled. “We better get going, I need to be at the shop in an hour.” 

“Alright.” I let out another sigh before sitting up. Harry stood up as I started to put things back in the basket. When I was finished, I looked up to see Harry with his hand extended out. “Thank you, dreamboat.” 

He pulled me to my feet, catching my lips when I stumbled into his chest. It didn’t take long for our innocent little kiss to turn into something more. My fingers found themselves tangled into his hair around the same time he was hoisting me up with a low grunt. I wrapped my legs around his, giggling as he started walking us towards whatever flat surface would support me. I broke the kiss with a giggle when he pushed my back into a wide tree trunk. 

He wasted no time ducking his head down to kiss up my neck, suckling softly at the soft junction of my jaw and my neck. I tilted my head back, letting out a soft sigh as he nipped softly at the already wet skin. It didn’t take long for Harry to slip his hand under my dress, pushing aside my panties before he brushed his fingers up my wet folds. I closed my eyes, clenching around nothing as he brushed his fingers over my clit softly. He smirked into the skin of my jaw as he rubbed in soft circles, ignoring my desperate pleas for him to sink his fingers into me. After a few moments of his fingers circling over my clit, he dipped his forefinger into my entrance. I gasped when he hooked the first half of his digit up, massaging that soft spot inside of my walls before he pulled his finger away. I was seconds from complaining, my mouth ajar as I snapped my head up. I was quickly cut off by Harry adding a second finger into me. 

My heartbeat picked up as he grunted softly, adjusting so that my back was firmly pressed against the tree. There was no way he could hold me up anymore. 

“Harry, please.” I dropped my forehead to his, my breath fanning over his face as he looked up at me. “Fuck me.” 

“Are you sure?” He gulped, pulling back to glance around the park. “Honey, someone could walk by and see us.” 

“I don’t care.” I whispered, brushing my fingers over his cheek. “I need you now, dreamboat.” 

“Bloody christ, woman.” He whined, closing his eyes tightly for a second before he was nodding. I tried to conceal my triumphant grin, but it was no use. “Who taught you to be this naughty?” 

“You, Harry.” I let out a soft laugh as he shook his head, mumbling a soft curse under his breath. “Thought you needed to be at the shop in an hour, dreamboat? Are you sure you have time?” 

“Gotta give my girl what she wants, don’t I? Gonna have to make this quick.” Harry mutters.

I look back at him with a mischievous smirk on my face. “Then, stop talking and show me what you can do, please.”

It took him a few minutes to maneuver around holding me and pulling his pants down, but when he finally got them down, he wasted no time sinking into me. It took my breath away when he settled against me, the tip of his cock brushing so deep in me that I clenched down around his shaft. He groaned, dropping his head forward before he pulled back. I whimpered at the empty feeling, but it didn’t last long. Harry settled into an impressive speed as I tangled my fingers in his hair. We were fucking against a tree in broad daylight as if it was perfectly normal and something about that turned me on even more. I closed my eyes, sliding one hand down to press against my clit as Harry continued to drive his hips into me. 

“Gonna play with yourself for me, babyhoney?” He gasped, lifting his head up as I moaned softly in response. “That’s my sweet girl.” 

“M’your sweet girl.” I opened my eyes, pressing my forehead to his. “I’m so close.” 

“Yeah?” He asked, licking over his bottom lip. I took the cue, leaning down to press my lips to his in a desperate kiss. “Go on babyhoney, let go for me.” 

His words sent me over the edge, my body picking up on his demand as I clenched around his shaft. I let out a loud gasp, burying my face in the crook of his shoulders as he bucked his hips a little harder. His thrusts turned sloppy as I started to come down and I knew that he was close. It didn’t take long for him to grunt, pressing his forehead against mine as he spilled into me. I would worry about the consequences of it later, my eyes and mind focused on Harry’s face as he tried to keep himself quiet. When he was finally finished, he pulled out slowly. When he hissed out in discomfort, I whimpered at the empty feeling left in the pit of my stomach. 

“I need to keep an eye on you.” Harry chuckled lowly, shaking his head as I giggled. “You’re starting to get a little too wild baby.” 

“Only for you dreamboat.” I lifted my hand up to pinch his cheek. “Now we absolutely have to get back to my house. You’re going to be late for work.” 

“I’ll be fine, baby.” He brushed his nose against mine before pressing a soft kiss to my lips. “I actually have something I want to ask you.” 

In all the time that I had known Harry, I’d never seen him nervous like this before. I could tell he was nervous by the shifting of his eyes and the deep frown pulling between his brows. My heartbeat started to pick up as I watched him fumble for his words. He cleared his throat, tapping his fingers against my thigh. I slipped my legs from around his waist, pressing my feet flat to the ground. He shifted around, sliding his pants back up over his hips before buckling them up. I smoothed my hands over my dress after readjusting my panties. Harry let out a deep sigh before wiping his hands over his trousers. I watched with raised brows and wide eyes as he looked up towards the sky before looking back down at me. 

“You know that I love you, right?” I nodded at his question, crossing my arms over my chest shyly. This felt more like a breakup speech than a confession of love. “You’re my entire world, honeybaby. I adore you.” 

“I love you too, dreamboat.” I gave him a sad smile, stepping forward. “Is everything okay? Oh no!”

“What?” His eyes grew wide as tears started to pool in my own eyes. “What’s wrong?” 

“You’re moving back to England, aren’t you?” I sniffled, my heart breaking. “You’re going to leave me here and go back to that stupid old country and I’ll never see you again!” 

“Honey, no!” He cried out, moving forward to wrap his arms around me. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

“Why would you scare me like that!” I groaned, pressing my palms over my face as I leaned into his chest. “You sounded like you were about to break up with me dreamboat!” 

“I - what?” He pulled back, reaching up to wrap his fingers around my wrists. He pulled my hands away from my face and I sniffled, trying to control the tears flowing over my cheeks. “Never, babyhoney. I wouldn’t...I was trying to-fuck.” 

“What?” I asked, my brows furrowing as he reached into his back pocket with one hand. When he brought his hand back into view, I noticed the small velvet box immediately. “Oh my god.” 

“I had a speech prepared but…words aren’t enough when it comes to you.” He said softly, reaching over with his other hand to open the box with shaky fingers. “You are the reason I wake up every morning. You’re the reason I smile at nothing in the middle of a conversation with someone else. You’re the reason I wake up in the middle of the night, petrified because I don’t have you by my side.I know you still want to go to Harvard to earn your degree and I want to be there to support you every step of the way, as your husband.”

I didn’t even look at the ring, my eyes trained on Harry’s. 

He was tearing up as well, the rims of his eyes red and the light green shade just a little darker. 

“Will you marry me?” He asked, his voice breaking a little. “Please, babyhoney. Say something.” 

“Yes.” I whispered, nodding my head. “Yes I will.” 

“You will?” His frown was replaced with a smile, his eyes lighting up as a few tears fell onto his cheeks. “You didn’t even look at the ring.” 

“You could have proposed to me with a piece of string and I would have said yes.” I chuckled. I moved forward, tossing my arms around his neck before another round of tears released from my eyes. I turned my head, pressing my nose into his shirt as a soft sob broke free. “I can’t believe I let you make love to me against a tree before proposing to me.” 

“That’s what are you crying about?” He laughed, sliding his arms around my waist. 

“No, I’m crying because I love you so much.” I pulled back, pressing my lips to his. “I’m going to love you until my heart stops beating dreamboat. I know it.”

5:00 PM

The plan that I had told my parents was a complete lie. 

They thought that I would be going to the drive-in theatre with my best friend, Imogene, and her boyfriend Tommy. It wasn’t completely a lie. Imogene and Tommy would probably be at the drive-in tonight, but I wouldn’t be with them. I would be with Harry, pressed against his side as I watched Grace Kelly on the silver screen. We would split a strawberry shake like we always did and I would steal half of his fries. He never complained when I did it though. When I kissed my Mother and Father goodbye, I told them not to wait up for me. They never had a problem with me staying out late when I was with Imogene. She was a good girl with a good head on her shoulders as my Father would always say. It was half of the reason I used her as an alibi. She never knew I was with Harry but she knew I was off having a secret love affair with someone. 

When I walked out of my house, I turned my head to the left expecting to see Harry’s motorcycle parked down the street. Sitting there in its normal spot was a pink and white car with white wall tires. I knew that wasn’t him because he didn’t actually own a car despite the fact he was working in an autoshop. I was just about to retreat back inside when I did a double take. My jaw dropped as I watched my fiance step out of the car, ruffling his hair slightly before turning my direction. I could see the grin on his face from my parent’s front porch and it made me shake my head in disbelief. I jogged down the steps before running down the sidewalk. I crashed into Harry at full speed, giggling as he wrapped his arms around me. 

“Whose car is this?” I asked breathlessly, looking over at the Ford Fairlane convertible with wide eyes. 

“It’s ours.” He said. “My boss bought a newer model for his wife last week and he promised me this one if I pulled some extra hours at the shop when he asked.” 

“Really?” I looked back at him, my smile so wide that it actually hurt my cheeks. “I can’t believe you have a car!” 

“We have a car.” He corrected me. “What’s mine is yours, remember?” 

“Oh my god we have a car.” I cheered, jumping up in excitement. “You’re already the best husband a girl could ask for.” 

“We’re not even married yet.” He chuckled, reaching down for my hand. “Come on, let’s get you fed before you get grumpy.” 

“I am not grumpy!” I frowned, my brows pulling together. “You take that back right now.” 

“Come on babyhoney.” He kissed my cheek before leaning down to open the passenger side door. “You’re already turning into a sourpuss.” 

5:30 PM 

Halfway through our split strawberry milkshake, Harry pressed his hand against my thigh. 

Part of me wanted to wear pants to the drive-in because I knew when the sun went away, the air would get colder. The other part of me wanted to drive Harry crazy with a beautiful, yellow summer dress that I bought on clearance months ago at Sears. Harry always loved when I wore yellow, even if I disliked how the color looked on me. As his fingers softly brushed against the sensitive skin of my inner thigh I found that I couldn’t care less about the color yellow. As long as I got this kind of reaction from my dreamboat, I didn’t care if I was in a paper bag. When Grace Kelly appeared on the screen, I gasped. Harry let out a soft chuckle as I moved forward in my seat to get a better look at her. His hand slipped off of my thigh momentarily and I passed the shake back to him before I reached down to turn the dial on the radio higher. 

“She’s so beautiful, isn’t she?”

“Think you’re much prettier, babyhoney.” He pressed his palm against my lower back and I let out a soft chuckle before leaning back into his embrace. “I bet you would be a much better actor, too.” 

“I don’t think I was meant to be on camera.” I shook my head at his words, glancing back at him with my nose scrunched up. “That’s more your speed, I think.” 

“Why do you say that?” He chuckled. 

“You’ve got such a handsome face.” I cooed, reaching up to pinch his cheek as he groaned. “And you’re so charming. Like Cary Grant.” 

“I wouldn't want to be an actor either.” He mumbled as I pressed my palm against his chest. “I think I would want to be a musician. I’d be happy as a backup singer or something.” 

“Dreamboat,” I rolled my eyes at his words before shaking my head. “You’d be the frontman, I know it. You have such an amazing singing voice.” 

“Alright, you’re gonna blow my head up.” He patted my hand softly, trying to distract me from the pink dusted across his cheeks. “Pay attention to your movie.” 

“Suddenly I’m not very interested in the movie, dreamboat.” My soft whisper was enough to pull his gaze from the screen, his attention back on me as I grinned. “I think there’s something else I would rather be doing right now.” 

“What’s that?” His voice was strained as he spoke and I felt his warm palm land back on the skin of my thigh. 

“Can I have a kiss?” I asked, brushing the tip of my nose against his. “It’s been so long since you’ve kissed me.” 

“Kissed you for ten minutes when we got in the car.” 

“Not the same.” I whispered, shaking my head. “I want a really good kiss, dreamboat.” 

“Baby, I don’t think I know what you mean.” He hummed, pursing his lips out as if he was deep in thought. “Show me?” 

“My pleasure.” 

I pressed my lips to his seconds later and he gripped my thigh tighter in response. 

I let out a soft sigh of content, tilting my head to the side before pressing up in my seat. I slipped the hand I had resting on his chest to his neck. I let my fingers trail over the skin of his neck softly as I tried to deepen the kiss. I slipped my tongue over the seam of his mouth, but he didn’t budge. I let out a frustrated whimper when I felt him smirk against my lips. 

Before I could pull back to scold him, he cradled the back of my neck with his own hand. My hand fell back to his chest, my fingers sliding down the fabric of his baby blue sweater before I pushed it up. I rested my palm on his tummy, my heart fluttering when I felt him tense beneath my hands. 

It was my turn to smile into the kiss as he tried to guide my hand closer to his cock. I didn’t give into his needs, sliding my hand up towards his nipples instead. I brushed my thumb over his right nipple, pulling my lips away to trail over his jawline as I tweaked it gently. Harry let out a breathless moan, tossing his head back as I kissed over his Adam's apple. 

“Babyhoney?” His voice was deep and raspy and I wondered if I had anything to do with the change in mood. “Please touch me?” 

“I am touching you, Dreamboat.” I whispered against the skin of his neck as I moved my fingers to his left nipple. “Touching you just how you like it, aren’t I?” 

“Yes, but-” 

“But?” I pulled back, a faux pout settling on my lips. “You don’t like it?” 

“You know I love it.” He let out a frustrated chuckle, shaking his head. “Want your hand down my pants babyhoney. Wanna feel you touch my cock.” 

“Oh.” I pressed my lips together, nodding my head at his words. “Do you want to show me how?” 

“You know how, baby.” He whimpered, shuffling his hips around. “Pull me out, sweet girl.” 

“I wasn’t quite finished kissing you.” I sighed dramatically before dropping my hand down to the waistband of his pants. “I guess that will just have to wait.” 

“Yes.” He nodded, licking over his bottom lip as he lifted his hips up. I smirked at his eager attitude, popping the button on his trousers before I tugged the zipper down. “Want you to put your mouth on me. Want you to show me how good you can really be, baby.” 

I wasted no time pulling him from the confines of his boxers, wrapping my fingers around his shaft firmly before giving it a few tugs. It never took me long to get him hard. When I brushed the pad of my thumb over the tip of his cock, I felt the wet traces of his pre-cum on my finger. I glanced up at him with soft eyes, shuffling myself a little bit further away so that I could lean down. I pressed a few, soft kisses to the tip of his cock before flattening my tongue out. I slipped it further down his shaft before closing my lips around it. I could tell that Harry was having a hard time staying composed above me. He had already slipped his fingers into the hair at the nape of my neck,  tugging softly as I tried to push myself lower onto his cock. I pulled back, quickly, hollowing out my cheeks. Harry gasped, bucking his hips to chase the feeling of my mouth. 

“Baby,” Harry tugged at my hair gently as he tried his best to pull his hips away. “The carhop is coming.” 

“Fuck.” I groaned out, sitting up before I swiped the back of my hand over my lips. “Just...sit still, okay?” 

“What?” Harry furrowed his brows as I climbed into his lap, hovering over him before I reached down to grab his shaft. “Fuck, baby. Are you going to sit on my cock?”

“Yes,” I gasped when he pushed his hips up, the tip of his cock pushing into me. “I can’t...don’t want the carhop seeing you. You’re mine.” 

“M’yours.” He grasped at my hips, steadying me as I let his cock stretch me out. I let out a low whine when I settled into him fully, his fingers digging into my sides. “Feels so good to be in you like this. Can’t….all I feel is you, babyhoney.” 

I rested my hands over his, linking our fingers together as I tried my best not to move my hips. I needed to sit absolutely still if we were going to get away with this. When the carhop finally made it to our car, I smiled over at her the best that I could. Harry pressed his chin onto my shoulder, pretending to watch the movie as I waited for the carhop to finish speaking. 

“We’re done with everything.” I tried my best not to gasp when I absentmindedly shift my hips, the tip of his cock sending a shockwave through my body. “Thank you.” 

“Have a stellar night you two!” She called out before walking off to the next car. 

“Fuck.” I gasped when Harry shifted under me, his hips pushing up and catching me off guard. My thighs tensed up as Harry bit into my shoulder, sliding his arms around me. “I just...we’re missing the movie, Harry.”

“I don’t care about the movie.” He growled, shifting his hips up again. “I need it...know you do too, babyhoney.” 

“I have to watch the movie, dreamboat.” I sighed softly as he sponged a few wet kisses up my neck, stopping at my jawline. “Gotta tell Mama about it when I get home.” 

“We’ll come back tomorrow.” He tried to reason with me, sliding his palm over my lower stomach before pressing down. “Feel how full I make you? That’s me in your belly, babyhoney.” 

“I know.” I bit my lower lip, rolling my eyes up towards the ceiling in attempts to control myself. I wanted so badly to move my hips, but listening to him beg was worth the wait. “Gotta be good for me, dreamboat.” 

“Baby.” He whimpered in my ear. “Please don’t leave me hanging.” 

“Shh, Harry.” I turned my head to look at him, ignoring the soft blush on his cheeks and the furrow in his brow. “I’m watching the film.” 

Harry let out a frustrated sigh, but he didn’t say another word. 

I kept my eyes on the screen, watching Grace float around each scene. I wasn’t really paying attention to what was happening, the feeling of Harry fidgeting behind me a distraction. Every few moments, he would move his hands. From settling on my thighs to my hips to my stomach to my sides. He moved them so much that it almost felt like he was making sure I was still okay. A few times, I squeezed my walls, shifting around to keep him on his toes. Each movement earned a gasp joined by his fingers digging into my skin through my dress. When we were nearing the end of the movie, I decided that enough was enough. I couldn’t hold out any longer, my hips moving on their own as I inhaled sharply. It didn’t take long for Harry to catch onto my motive, his hands falling on my hips as my body moved. 

The stretch of his cock sent a shockwave through my body with each rise of my hips and by the time I fell back onto him, he was already praising me. My movements were slow and unsure, the confidence I’d had at the beginning of the night completely gone. My legs were starting to grow sore and I wasn’t sure that I could carry myself to an orgasm in this position. Something in the way Harry leaned forward, gripping my hips tighter, told me that he was aware of my struggle. He leaned forward, kissing up my neck before lifting my hips up. When I started to settle back onto him, he pushed me back up to the awkward crouching position. 

“S’enough of that baby.” He grunted. “Want you to lay down for me, yeah?” 

“Someone will notice.” I shook my head, looking back at him. “Just let me turn around, please? I want to...I want to finish making you feel good.” 

“You make me feel good no matter what position we’re in.” He let out a soft chuckle as I turned around, climbing over his lap. “Babyhoney, I know your legs are tired.” 

“They are.” I nodded, pressing my palms to his cheeks as he brushed his fingers up my bare thighs. “Maybe you can help me with that? Be a gentleman like you promised me, dreamboat?” 

“Okay.” Harry nodded as I reached down with my right hand, holding his shaft before I slipped the tip past my entrance. “Don’t sit all the way, just...wait right there.” 

“Why?” I asked, my brow furrowing as I settled towards the middle of his shaft. 

My answer was a sharp thrust from Harry’s hips nearly knocking me over. 

The air left my lungs in the form of a loud moan and I ducked my head down, burying my face in his shoulder as he pulled back out. The feeling before was good, but this was so much better. Harry lifted his hips again with a grunt, angling them slightly different and holding himself in me for just a few moments longer. I laced my fingers behind his neck, holding onto him as he started to find a steady rhythm. It wasn’t fast, but it felt so good. I could feel my own wetness starting to coat my thighs and my fingers started to slip apart, slick from perspiration as Harry pushed my closer to the edge. I knew that I was done for when he opened his mouth, his words sending chills down my spine. 

“Gonna be such a good wife to me, I know it.” He grunted in my ear and I nodded. “Gonna be my partner, yeah? Gonna treat you like a bloody queen, baby. Gonna fuck you like this every night.” 

“Harry.” I lifted my head up, pressing my forehead into his. “I’m close.” 

“Yeah?” He let out a breathless chuckle, licking over his bottom lip. “Hold tight for me, baby. Gonna get you there, gonna make you cum.” 

He did as promised, driving his hips up into me at an impressive speed. He had to kiss me to keep me quiet, the moans ripping from my mouth far too loud for our little rendezvous. When I came, it felt like the world stopped. Harry pulled my hips down flush against his, spilling into me with a grunt of his own. I rolled my hips forward, welcoming the soft sting as I continued to pulse around his cock. I pulled back from his mouth with a loud chuckle, tossing my head back. 

“Surely someone saw that.” I let out a heavy sigh, trying to catch my breath. 

When I finally felt calm enough, my chest no longer heaving, I lifted my hips up. Harry winced when his cock dropped back against his stomach and I kissed him softly as an apology. When he was tucked back into his trousers, I kissed him again. 

 “I can’t believe we just did that.” I chuckled into his mouth. 

“You’re something else.” He shook his head before dropping it back to the seat behind him. “I’m gonna have to keep a close watch on you. Putting that ring on your finger has changed you, huh?” 

“I just want to make my husband happy.” I hummed softly, pressing my lips to his. “Are you happy?” 

“So happy that my heart could burst right out of my chest.” He whispered. “I can’t wait for it to be official.” 

“I would go to the courthouse tomorrow to say ‘I do’, you know I would dreamboat.” I whispered, pulling back to brush my thumb over his chin. “You tell me when you’re ready and I’ll meet you at the altar.” 

“I want you to have a proper wedding.” He frowned, his brows pulling together.  “Everything we’ve done so far has been....it’s not been by the book. You deserve to have something normal and proper.” 

“Harry, I-” 

Before I could get the words out of my mouth, I heard my Father’s voice. 

My blood ran cold as I looked at Harry, my eyes growing wide. Harry’s look mirrored mine, his fingers digging into the skin of my thighs before I slipped off of his lap. I was quick to grab the door handle, getting out of the car. I cursed when I felt the wetness between my legs. It slipped my mind that Harry didn’t pull out, his release still inside of me. I quickly rushed around the front of the car when I saw my Father barreling towards Bertha. My Mother was hot on his heels as Harry stepped out of the car, settling by my side with his hand on my lower back. In the distance, I could see Imogene and Tommy standing there with shock on their faces. 

“You better get your hands off my daughter, you hoodrat.” My father was dangerously close to Harry, pointing his finger at him angrily. 

“Daddy, it’s okay!” I said quickly, sliding between the two men. “It’s...Harry is harmless, I promise. He’s my boyfriend, Daddy.” 

“Johnny is your boyfriend.” My Father didn’t take his eyes from Harry’s. 

“He’s not.” I swallowed around the lump in my throat, closing my eyes as I took a deep breath. “I broke up with Johnny a long time ago. He’s with someone else now.” 

“How long have you been lying to us then?” My Mother asked quietly. 

When I looked over at her, she was clutching her pearls with sad eyes. 

“I’ve been with Harry for five years.” I whispered. “I really love him, Mama. I swear that I do.” 

“You don’t know what love is!” My Father snapped, his eyes finally landing on mine. I felt Harry stand up straighter behind me, his chest brushing my back as he rested his fingers lightly on my hip. “You’re just a child.” 

“I’m not a child, daddy.” I whispered, the familiar burn behind my eyes catching me off guard. “I love him.” 

“We’re going home.” My Father said, reaching down for my hand. I pulled it back, holding it to my chest. “Y/N we are going home, you don’t have a choice.” 

“Sir, maybe we can take this somewhere more private.” Harry spoke up behind me. “We can all talk this out and-” 

“You don’t speak to me.” My Father snapped at Harry before looking back at me. “Let’s go.” 

“I’m not a child anymore. If you insist on making me choose between you and Harry, I’ll pick him. I will always pick him. He’s my soulmate.” I said.

“If you don’t come home with us right now, there’s no coming back. There will be no university in the fall or summer trip to the beach.” My Father seethed, but I didn’t budge. “You would give up your family for a lowlife like him.” 

“Yes.” I didn’t hesitate. “I’m sorry that you don’t believe me, but Harry is my soulmate and I...I can’t leave him. Not even for you.” 

It was silent for a minute, the whole world standing still as my father and I stared at each other. I tried to hold it all in, hiding my fear behind a deep scowl. The only thing keeping me grounded and steady was Harry’s touch. I waited, watching my Father’s face turn red with anger with each passing second. It didn’t take him long to turn around, booking past my Mother. I looked over at her, my face softening as I realized that maybe I shouldn’t have kept it from her. She stared back at me with a look of sheer disappointment in her eyes and it nearly broke me. She looked back at Harry, letting go of her pearls as she let out a heavy sigh. 

“He’s going to need time to adjust.” My Mother said quietly. “I’ll pack up your things. You can come pick them up on Sunday after church.” 

“Okay.” I croaked out, reaching up to lace my fingers with Harry’s. “I’m sorry.” 

She didn’t say another word, turning on her heels before walking away. 

When she was out of sight, I stumbled back into Harry. I pressed the fingers of my freehand to my lips, muffling the sob that burst out of my chest as I watched my parents peel away. Harry wrapped both of his arms around me as my knees started to grow weak. I turned in his arms, burying my face in his chest as he cooed softly above me. 

“It’s going to be alright.” He said softly. “They just need time, like your Mother said.” 

“I don’t think time will fix it.” I hiccuped, looking up at him. “Are you...are you okay?” 

“I’m alright, babyhoney.” He smiled softly, reaching up to brush his fingers over my wet cheeks. I sniffled, nodding my head. “Stop your cryin’, alright? Let’s go home. I’m sure Mum will be excited to have another girl around.” 

“You don’t think she’ll be upset?” I asked. 

“Never.” Harry said softly. “You’re family now.” 

[overdhse]

Hello!! Can I ask you 15 with all the members but they are actually not confident because s/o is shy to show her affection? Hope I'm clear enough... thanks!!

a/n: hello! sorry for the late reply ㅠㅠ after finishing studying for my previous exam, i’m now busy with another one so i took a break from writing... i hope it’s not a problem. thanks for requesting! i chose to change “wasn’t” to “isn’t”, i think it suits the scenarios better. i hope you’ll like this☺️

Golden Child reactions - 15. “Which part of me isn’t enough?” 

Daeyeol

Daeyeol is definitely good boyfriend-material. When you two started dating, you felt like you were dating a modern-days prince: he’s always really polite and sensitive, always worrying about you rather than himself, taking you out on romantic dates (when he has free time, obviously), cuddling with you under the sheets and showering you with his love. Too bad you’re not as good as him at showing affection. Even if you had never talked about this before, it was clear that at a certain point he had started developing some insecurities about that, so you aren’t really surprised when he stands in front of you asking: “Which part of me isn’t enough?”.

“Huh?” You say, blinking more than once. He looks at you with a sad gaze.

“Is there anything you don’t like about me?” He asks, biting his lip.

“No...?” You reply, while your heart starts to beat faster.

He sighs. “Are you sure? You don’t have to be with me if you don’t like me.”

“Actually...” You start. “Actually you’re the best thing that could ever happen to me. Really. It’s just that I’m really bad at showing how much I care about you. I’m so sorry.”

His eyes grow wider as a smile appears on his face. “Oh. I feel so much better.” He says, while hugging you. “I couldn’t get myself to stop thinking that you dislike something about me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you.” You reply, caressing his cheek. “You’re perfect to me.”

Y

Sungyoon isn’t usually the kind of guy to worry about his own irrational thoughts, but having to deal with a person who finds it hard to show affection is making him change his mind.

“I’ve been worrying about you for a few days.” He says, putting an arm around your shoulders. “Is there anything you want to tell me?”

You rest your head on his shoulder. “I don’t think so. Why?”

“Uh.” He replies, touching your cheek with his fingers. “Nothing.”

You put yourself to sit in front of him and look at him in the eyes. “Are you worried about something?”

“Not really...” He says, before looking away and suddenly asking: “Which part of me isn’t enough?”

You blink twice. “Which part of you... isn’t enough...?” You ask, giving him a confused look.

“Yeah.” He says. “Am I lacking something?”

You pat his head. “No, you’re not. I’m the one lacking something, and it’s the ability to demonstrate that I am crazy about you.” You explain. “Please, bear with my flaw, okay?”

He holds your hands. “It’s okay. I am crazy about your flaws too.”

Jangjun

Considering his bright personality, you had never thought Jangjun would ever be the kind of guy to develop insecurities about anyone surrounding him. He had a particular way of showing his insecurities: he would bring them up by asking rhetorical question.

“You don’t like me, don’t you?”, “You think I’n not good enough for you, don’t you?”, “You’re into somebody else, aren’t you?”, these are only some of the dozens of questions he has been asking you for the past few days.

“So, which part of me isn’t enough?” He asks, making you roll your eyes.

“Actually...” You say, and he looks at you with a worried gaze. You smirk, realizing that he’s believing it. “Actually, there’s something.”

“W... what?” He asks. You had never seen him so insecure.

You point at his head. “Your brain.” You say. “You aren’t clever enough to realize I’m crazy about you.”

He pinches your arm. “You thought you could prank me?” He asks, pinching you harder. “Don’t do this ever again. And I want you to know this: I wasn’t believing in you. I knew you were kidding.”

You move your arm, sticking your tongue out. “Yeah, sure.”

TAG

Youngtaek gets easily flustered when it comes to people he cares about. He has always been into you, and he has shown it in various ways: sending you pictures of something that he saw and reminded him of you, buying you all the sweets that you said you like, taking you to his favorite places... you feel bad thinking about the fact that he has been able to show his affection to you in so many different ways, while you struggle to even just say “I love you” back.

You are at the café in front of his company. You’re taking a sip of iced tea when out of the blue he asks you : “Which part of me isn’t enough?” 

You didn’t really expect him to ask you that question.

“What do you mean?” You ask, coughing.

“What should I change about me? I want you to be more interested in me.” He explains, with a serious face.

You smile and reach your hand out to caress his cheek. “You don’t have to change anything. Just because I don’t tell you I love you so often, it doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”

“You can just tell me if something is wrong with me. I am willing to fix it.” He says, holding the hand you were caressing him with.

“There is nothing I would change in you.” You say, just before kissing him. “You’re the best to me.”

Seungmin

Seungmin is usually quiet but when he’s worried about something he becomes even quieter. It didn’t take you a lot to realize that something is making him flustered.

“What’s going on?” You ask, out of the blue.

“Huh?” He says, giving you a confused look.

“You’re so quiet.” You explain. “You’re thinking about something.”

He looks away and stays silent; after a few minutes, he asks: “Which part of me isn’t enough?”

You raise your eyebrows. “What?”

“Nevermind.” He says, taking his phone out of his pocket. You take your phone out of your bag too.

You send him a text. “You’re more than enough for me.”

You wait for his reaction, but it seems like he hasn’t read it yet. Your phone vibrates.

It’s Seungmin’s reply. “I love you even if you make me worry too much.”

Jaehyun

Jaehyun always worries about making sure you’re comfortable with him. There hasn’t been a single time ever since you started dating that he hasn’t asked you if everything is okay or if you want to talk to him about something in particular. You are really thankful for the way he is, but you know that sometimes you’re not good at showing him how much you love him; so you weren’t really surprised when he texted you asking: “Which part of me isn’t enough?”

You read the text more than once, to be sure that you’re not getting it wrong.

“Nothing?” You type. After a few seconds, you get another text.

“Are you sure?” He asks.

“I am.” You reply.

“Alright. I’m sorry.” He quickly replies. “I love you a lot.”

You smile. “I love you a lot too.”

Jibeom

Jibeom isn’t really the type of guy to share all of his thoughts with you, but you can feel that something is off only by taking a look at his gaze whenever he’s talking to you. At first you thought it would be something temporary, but after a few days you realized that it was kind of serious and that you had to find out what was going on. So that’s why you have now called him over.

He is as quiet as usual, but you can see that his eyes are hiding something.

“So... is there something going on?” You begin with an unsure voice. He shyly looks away and blushes.

“No.” He murmurs.

“Are you sure?” You insist. “ I can see it in your eyes.“

He sighs. “Which part of me isn’t enough?” 

“Huh?” You give him a confused look.

“”I feel like you’re not into me.” He explains. “Is there anything wrong with me?”

You blush. “No. I’m sorry.“ You look away. “ I should show my affection to you more, right?”

He smiles to you. “It’s okay. You don’t have to force yourself.”

Donghyun

“Which part of me isn’t enough?”

Donghyun’s question flustered you. You know you aren’t that good at showing your affection to anyone, especially to him, but you didn’t think this would lead to him feeling insecure about himself.

You scratch your head. “Uhm... well, do you really want me to say it?” You ask.

Donghyun puts on a sad face and shrugs. “Whatever.”

“It’s... your confidence.” You hurriedly reply, before this leads to him feeling really bad. “Why are you asking me such stupid questions? You should know better how much I love you.”

“You never say it.” He shyly explains, looking away.

You pinch his cheek. “Just because I don’t say it it doesn’t mean you’re not “enough” for me. Actually, you’re way too much for me. I don’t deserve you.”

Joochan

Joochan usually acts like he’s full of confidence, so his sudden question (“Which part of me isn’t enough?”) sincerely flustered you.

“There’s nothing wrong with you.” You reply. “I am sorry, this is all my fault. I am way too cold.”

He quickly pats your shoulder. “Don’t apologize. I was kidding. Really!”

“No, you’re right. I should be much more affectionate to you.” You say, biting your lip.

“I was really kidding!” He insists. “But still... thanks for the compliment!” He adds, winking.

Bomin

Bomin usually holds everything in when it comes to his worries. It’s not like you were expecting him to tell you how he is feeling every single time, but you wanted him at least to tell you when something was wrong; since he never did, as soon as you realized that something was worrying him, you asked him about it.

“I am okay, really.” He replies.

“Are you sure?” You ask again.

He stands there and looks at you in your eyes. Before you can say anything, he asks: “Which part of me isn’t enough?”

“What?” You say, raising your eyebrows. “Are you crazy?”

He gives you a confused look. “Why?”

“You’re way more than enough to me. Don’t ask me no stupid questions!” You say, leaving him with a warm smile on his face.

[mmvalentine]

Home is Where You Are pt 3 | Feysand

Girl next door AU. CW: abusive relationships. Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

The next time Rhys saw Feyre was at the wake.

Back in his apartment, Rhys tried to settle into his normal routine. But the idea of having Feyre back in his life was intoxicating, after having imagined it for so long. He tried to concentrate hard on his work in order to prevent him from texting her everyday. Especially because it turned out that in the city, the did not live far from each other at all.

A few days later, Rhys put on a black suit and went to Feyre and Tamlin's apartment. She looked so tired, with black circles under her lovely eyes and a slight tremor in her hands. The fluttery feeling he had had in anticipation of seeing her again was replaced by a solemn concern.

Feyre met him at the door. She smiled at him, and clasped his arms. Rhys searched her eyes, questioningly. "I'm okay," she said quietly. "Don't spend too long with just one person," Tamlin said to her. "Make sure to greet all the guests." Rhys rolled his eyes. "Do whatever the hell you want," he whispered, once Tamlin had walked away.

After the service, through which Nesta and Elain did very little and everything seemed to fall to Feyre, the people fanned out through the small apartment. Rhys found Feyre sitting in the walk-in pantry.

He had gone looking for a glass for get some water, and now shut the door behind him before sitting down next to her.

"Okay?" he asked. "Yeah. Just tired." Feyre leaned her head back against a shelf. "Have you eaten today?" "Not much appetite." "Do you want me to tell you stories about your dad?" Feyre smiled. "Yes." "Okay. I haven't told anyone this before, and it's a sort of heavy story. But did you know my dad used to keep a baseball bat by the door. Self-defence, he said, in case of home invaders.

"Well, this one time he was going off at me, you know, really laying into me. And your dad, every so often, when my old man was just shouting the whole house down, would knock on the front door at an opportune moment. Sometimes it would just break his rhythm, and that was enough to stop the screaming. And usually your dad would make up some excuse and then leave again.

"Anyway this particular time, my dad had the bat in his hands when your dad knocked. He opens the door, and spits what in your dad's face. I remember so clearly, your dad's going from my dad's face, to the bat, to me behind him. And then he says, 'You know I think there were some teenagers scrabbling around my porch last night. And I've been thinking I should get myself some protection.' And my dad says, 'that's the problem with you lot, you're soft and they know it.' 'well,' says your dad, 'I've got four women in the house and they suddenly feel unprotected. Do you think you could give me a hand?' and next thing I know, my dad's handing over the baseball bat. 'Hold onto this for now,' he says, 'then get yourself a decent rifle.' Then your dad left and he had to whack me with a newspaper roll instead.

"The point is, I'm pretty sure on more than one occasion your dad saved my ass. And I'll always be grateful."

Feyre stared at him. "I didn't know he used to go over there," she said. "Not sure I'd be here if he didn't," Rhys responded. "At least, I wouldn't be nearly this pretty." He grinned at her, and Feyre laughed. The sound of it released some of the tension in Rhys' stomach, and he leaned over and kissed Feyre on the cheek.

A few weeks later, Feyre came around to Rhys' neighbourhood. She had agreed to design something for a campaign Rhys was working on, and they decided to meet at his place to discuss the brief. Over the past fortnight, it had been the perfect excuse to be able to talk to her.

What are you making at the moment? he had texted her. Ugh, nothing, she replied. I've had no inspiration since my last show ended. Maybe you just need some better source material, Rhys wrote. You could always paint me, if you like. Har har, Feyre wrote back. Don't flirt with an almost married woman. Sorry, Rhys texted back. I do it with no hope or agenda. But seriously, if you like working toward things, my company is looking for an artist for an upcoming project, I could throw your name in if you'd like. I'm not in charge of who they pick but I think they'd love you. That would be amazing! Feyre said.

And then they had loved her, not surprising Rhys at all after years of following her on social media. So he picked up the brief and invited her over.

Rhys had torn around his place all evening, trying to get it to look the right balance of homely and inviting, and immaculate. Ridculous, he told himself, trying to impress an engaged woman. Still, even if she wasn't interested in him romantically, he still cared about her opinion.

Finally there was a knock at his door, and Rhys tried not to throw it open too enthusiastically. But when he saw her, the smile fell from his face.

"Feyre," he said. "I... come in." He stood aside, and Feyre smiled. She looked awful. The bags under her eyes that Rhys had attributed to her father's funeral were somehow worse, and she had definitely lost weight.

"Thanks," Feyre said. "How are you?" "I'm... good, how are you? Are you okay?" "Yeah, I'm fine." "Okay, you look..." he trailed off. "Are you sure you're okay?" Feyre brushed him off with a laugh. "Yes mother hen, I'm good. So tell me about this project."

Rhys led her to the couch, and looked sidelong at her. If she didn't want to talk about it, he didn't want to push her. "I was going to order some food first, what do you feel like for dinner?" he said. But Feyre shook her head. "Nothing for me. Tamlin has me on this cleanse, says it's good for stress." She pulled out a bottle of green-brown liquid and took a long drink. Rhys watched her, and held his tongue.

"Okay," he said. "Well I'm going to get some pizza and if you decide you're hungry you can have some." "Sure, whatever," Feyre said. "Now tell me about this project! I'm so excited, when they reached out to me they only gave me this really vague outline."

So they sat and talked about work, and even though her face was gaunt and her skin a little sallow, the way her eyes lit up when she spoke about her ideas made Rhys' heart squeeze. If he could just make her a tiny bit happy, that'd be enough.

Over the next couple of months they exchanged texts and emails, mostly about work, but sometimes about life, too.

Nesta's a pain in my ass, she wrote once. Nesta's a pain in everyone's ass, Rhys replied. Hadn't seen the woman in a decade and when I asked her how she was at the funeral she said 'oh you're back' and then walked away.

Rhys I'm giving up on this project, I quit, she sent another time. Tamlin says what I've made won't resonate with the modern audience, but I don't have any other ideas and I can't bear to start again. We didn't pick Tamlin out of twenty applying artists, we picked you, Rhys wrote back. And personally, I fucking love it as it is. If you change it you're fired.

And then one day, The house sold. I can't believe it's really happening. Congratulations, Rhys said. That's great news. It went for more than I expected, Feyre said. Then, I guess I'll have to go back down and get all that stuff out before the new owners move in. Want company? Very much.

This time, Rhys drove. He picked Feyre up at her place, and his knuckles went white on the steering wheel with effort not to comment on how she had lost even more weight, and her beautiful honey hair looked dull and lank around her face.

"Hello, Feyre darling," he said as she climbed into the car. "How have you been?" "Just fine Rhys dear, and you?" "Good," Rhys said carefully. "That Tamlin treating you okay?" Feyre made a face. "He's pretty stressed out lately. He finds it difficult to work with new people, so I've been modelling for some of his advertising stuff. You know how it is, running your own business." "Sure..." Rhys said. "And... is there a certain... aesthetic they stick to?" Feyre frowned. "Of course, he's a personal trainer." "Okay..." "So are we going to drive or are you going to ask weird questions all day?" "Sorry ma'am, right away ma'am," Rhys said, flicking his sunglasses onto his face and pulling out of his driveway. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Feyre. She was slumped in her seat, and had started to chew on the nails of her left hand.

"Welcome to Archeron Airlines," Rhys said, in his best pilot voice. "My name is Rhys and I'l be your captain for the day, on behalf of us all here thank your for flying Archeron."

Feyre stared at him. "What are you doing?"

"It's a fine day for flying, the weather looks good and minimal turbulence is expected. We are cruising at an altitude of 0.75 feet, your expected fight time is four hours."

"It's six actually," Feyre corrected, the corner of her mouth pulling up. "I know," Rhys said, leaning toward her conspiratorially. "But I drive like a maniac."

Feyre laughed out loud then, and Rhys' heart glowed in his chest. He could do this. He could make her laugh all the way to Velaris St, and make those frown lines disappear. If only he could see her everyday, he thought. If only he could make sure she was okay.

Because she wasn't saying anything, but he was so sure this had something to do with Tamlin.

****

I was going to try keep this very separate from COD but also I want to get the heavy angst out of the way. Because you guys, I promise this one gets so sweet and fluffy if you can just stick with me a little longer.

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-babies @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira

[cali-holland]

Dandelion- Harrison Osterfield One Shot

Pairing: Harrison Osterfield X Reader

Prompt: You’re the only girl that makes Harrison nervous, the only girl that’s unknowingly owned his heart for years- and the only girl he’s ever stood up on a date. Now, four years later, is he too late to try for a second chance?

Featured Songs: Dandelion by Kacey Musgraves and It Had to Be You from When Harry Met Sally

Based On: This scene from Psych

Word Count: 12k (longest fic right hereeee)

Warnings: swearing, secondhand embarrassment to the MAX, Harrison being a simp

Masterlist   Harrison Osterfield Masterlist

*Gif is not mine*

~~~

“Why are we even shopping today? Your party’s not for another week.” Harrison let out a groan as he walked into the grocery store with Tom and Harry, the former had been very insistent on getting food for his birthday party a week in advance.

“I procrastinate on everything else, let me do something reasonably on time for once.” Tom stated, pushing the cart and heading straight for the alcohol aisle. “What should we get?”

“It’s your party.” The blond replied with a shrug. He grabbed a large case of beer, claiming, “As long as there’s beer, I’m fine.” “Didn’t you say Shelby likes Whiteclaws?” Harry asked.

“Oh, yeah, she does!” Tom perked up, grabbing a large box full of the hard seltzers.

“You’re catering to Shelby’s needs now? Tom, it’s your party.” Harrison reminded him again. Shelby being the girl who was Tom’s unofficial girlfriend.

“I want to impress her.”

“Haz, calm down. Maybe she’ll bring some of her hot friends for us.” Harry joked, nudging his friend, who looked unimpressed.

“I’m just saying, you should just be official with her already. You’re practically dating her.” Harrison insisted.

“You’re one to talk.” Tom laughed, before mimicking his friend, “‘Just ask her out already. It’s not that hard.’ Wanna remind us how you haven’t asked a girl out in four years?”

“Shove off. I’ll get the chasers.” He walked away without another word, trying to ignore the snickering from the two Holland boys behind them.

Harrison knew it was hypocritical of him to encourage Tom to officially date Shelby when he couldn’t even ask a girl out. It wasn’t like he had trouble talking to girls; no, Harrison was good-looking and he knew it, so he naturally had no problem turning on his charm whenever a pretty girl was around. It was just that when the time came to actually ask a girl out, he couldn’t. He’d freeze and have horrendous flashbacks to his last date four years ago, flashbacks that crept into his mind now as he searched for some good chasers.

“Harrison! You’re going to be late!” His mom called to him from downstairs.

“No, I’m not!” He halted his nervous pacing as he looked at himself in the mirror. He wasn’t wearing anything too special, just a nice blue button-up that brought out his eyes and his best pair of jeans. He kicked himself for letting Tom borrow his nicest pair of casual shoes because the ones he currently wore were just not fitting right. They went well enough with his look, but they squeezed his toes uncomfortably and there were little dirt stains on the side that he just hoped no one could see, especially you. He ran his fingers through his hair, and then again, trying to fix it and make sure it didn’t look too gelled up or too casual. He thought to himself ‘This is a casual thing, calm down’, but his brain was so scattered, he could barely focus on that.

“Mum says you need to leave.” His sister said, opening his door and making him jump.

“How do I look?” He asked with a hopeful smile.

“Wonderful. Now go, you’ve got a date!” She pushed him out of the room. Harrison grabbed his keys and his wallet from the table near his front door, trying to rush out of the house before his mum came into the room, but she was too fast.

“Let me see.” She smiled teasingly at him, and he sighed before turning around so that she could approve of his outfit. Pinching his cheeks, she gushed, “You look so handsome.”

“Thanks. I need to go.” He kissed his mother goodbye quickly.

As Harrison left his house, he heard his mum’s passing comment to his sister, “I’ve never seen him so nervous for a date. I hope she’s the one.”

Since you were getting off work and had your car there already, you’d told Harrison that you could meet him at the fairgrounds, the spot he had chosen for your date. The whole drive over there, he was thinking of different ways to greet you- should he do the cute romantic thing and cover your eyes for a moment, or was that too creepy? His mind rushed over to the wonder about how the night would go- would you two share a cotton candy, would you hold his hand as you two go on a thrill ride, would you need a jacket because it’s cold? Harrison’s heart surged with nervousness; he didn’t even think of bringing a jacket for you and he didn’t even have one for himself. Stopped at a red light, he blindly stretched a hand to the back of the car, in search of one of his spare jackets back there. Feeling a soft cotton material, he quickly pulled on the jacket and brought it up to his lap. He didn’t know how long it’d been his car, but judging by its smell it had definitely been in there a while. So maybe he wouldn’t give you his jacket in hopes that you take it home at the end of the night as an excuse to see him again.

The light turned green and he started to drive again. The thought of the end of the night hadn’t even crossed his mind. Did you expect him to kiss you or was it supposed to be one of those intimate hugs to end the date? His mum was right, he’d never been so nervous for a date, but he couldn’t help it. This was you.

He met you at school years ago. You two didn’t have many classes together, which made Harrison a bit sad because he wanted any opportunity to see you (but he was kind of grateful too because he definitely didn’t do well in the classes that you shared with him). He was completely enraptured by you; it took him months to finally talk to you in class. Then it took a couple more months before he managed to actually say anything more than a simple ‘hi’ to you. Poor Tom had to hear him go on for almost a year about how pretty you were or about something you said during class. Eventually, just in time for graduation when you’d all split ways, he worked up the courage to just get your number. After infrequently texting you for a while (he didn’t want to come off as a creep and text you too often), he finally asked you out a couple days ago. He was still in disbelief that you said yes. You were the girl he’d been fawning over for the past several years, and you had said yes to just going on a date with him. You had almost every guy at the school falling at your feet, you could have accompanied anyone to the carnival and yet you chose him. You made him feel like a giddy school boy, not a nearly 20-year old man.

He had hoped his nerves would’ve calmed down by the time he got to the fairgrounds, but they didn’t; if anything, his heart was beating inhumanly fast and his hands were the clammiest they’d ever been. He managed to get a parking spot near the front gate, right near where the two of you were supposed to meet. He was two minutes early; he had two minutes to calm down and go out there.

“Just be cool.” He mumbled to himself. He looked at himself in his rearview mirror and smiled, “‘Hi, Y/N’. No, that sounds creepy. ‘Hey’- God, no.” He groaned, still unable to settle on the best way to greet you. Seeing something move near the gate, he quickly looked over to see you walking to the gate.

You stood nervously in the shade, trying to hide from the evening sun. You wore a light blue babydoll dress with a dandelion print that made Harrison’s heart soar- you two had inadvertently matched color schemes. On your shoulders rested a dark blue denim jacket, which told Harrison all his worrying about the jacket dilemma was for nothing. He already knew your jacket definitely smelt better than his, and that was reassuring to him. You just looked so beautiful standing there; if you hadn’t told him you were coming from work, he wouldn’t have been able to tell. He watched as you nervously fiddled with the black bag hanging from your shoulder. You got out your phone, and Harrison watched your fingers dance across the screen before his own phone vibrated.

‘Hey, I’m here x’ You had texted him, and his heart seemed to start beating even faster- he didn’t know how he wasn’t having a heart attack. You held your phone with your left hand and put your right hand in your jacket pocket, fidgeting with it anxious. It was a nervous tick of yours that Harrison had picked up on years ago; whenever you were nervous, you’d play with your right pocket and that’s why your right jacket pockets were always disproportionately more damaged than your left.

Any confidence that he had before was gone. He couldn’t bring himself to respond to your text, and he felt frozen in his car. After a few more minutes had gone by, you texted him again and began to walk in small circles. Instead of reading your text, he pulled up Tom’s contact. He hated it, but he needed his best friend, he needed to be talked into going out there. Tom was the only person who saw firsthand how much Harrison admired you over the years, seeing as he was the one to continuously push his friend to talk to you.

“Hey, aren’t you supposed to be on a date?” Tom asked as soon as he picked up the phone. When Harrison didn’t immediately respond, he got concerned, “Mate, tell me Y/N didn’t stand you up.”

“No, no. I just- Tom, I can’t.” Harrison said, his voice breaking.

“What do you mean you can’t? The girl of your dreams agreed to go on a date with you, give her the best date ever.”

“No, I can’t. She’s here, but I- I can’t even get out of my car.”

“Do you not like her anymore?” He asked, unsure of his friend’s predicament. Harrison had been so nervously excited about your date for days, and Tom had to hear all about how much his best friend liked you for years. This was a perfect situation for Harrison, was it not?

“I do. It’s just too real. There’s no way she’d actually date me. She’s too good for me.”

“Harrison! Listen to yourself! You’re incredible, mate, and Y/N knows that. That’s why she agreed to go out with you. Don’t leave her there. Go get her.” Tom insisted.

“O-okay, I will.” He replied before saying goodbye and hanging up his phone. He was about to leave his car when he got a call from you. He wanted to pick it up, he wanted to hear your voice, but he just felt like he was disappointing you. It had been half an hour already. Once the phone call went through and you left a voicemail, he looked up to see you sitting against the trunk of a tree, defeated, and turned away from his car that you still had yet to spot. He felt defeated himself, he was looking forward to this so much and now he was just being cowardly. He hated this feeling. A sudden surge of confidence overcame him and he hopped out of his car, thinking it’s now or never.

You hadn’t seen him yet, and he was mere steps from you. He stopped when he heard you on the phone.

“I don’t think he’s coming.” You sighed. There was a pause as you listened to the other end of the call, still unaware of his presence. “I’m just going to go. It’s been almost a hour, and I haven’t even heard from him. It just feels like a waste of time, he really let me down.”

Harrison felt himself grow heavy at your words. As much as he wanted to take the final few steps to you and to tell you he was there, his body betrayed him and he stood there, motionless and speechless.

“I even wore that blue dress I just bought. I thought he’d like it because it matches his eyes.” You laughed lightly and he felt his heart drop at your words. You were trying to impress him. “I feel so stupid. It’s probably stained now.” You stood up and dusted off your dress. You sniffled a bit and he felt his heart break- he’d made you cry and it was the worst feeling in the world for him. As you took one last look around for him, Harrison ducked behind the large tree trunk to stay out of view. With a final sigh, you left. Harrison threw his head back against the tree. He was so angry with himself, you were all he wanted for years and he finally had him, but now you were gone, probably for good. You were there, and he was there; why couldn’t he just actually be there for you?

“Chasers, chasers, chasers,” He mumbled to himself, walking through the store trying to find where they had hidden the drink section (why it wasn’t right beside the alcohol section, he didn’t know). He paused his search, hearing an all too familiar singing voice come over the store’s radio.

As if the memory of him leaving you like that wasn’t haunting enough for him, you went on to become a successful artist and sometimes he felt like there was no escaping your popular songs. He couldn’t bring himself to listen to them though. Tom said that they were good- after all, he still kind of kept up in contact with you, but Harrison knew it’d only make him feel even more guilty about his actions all those years ago. He hadn’t reached out to you at all since before that fateful and horrendous night. You were special and he always knew that, he just didn’t appreciate you enough when you were there.

Trying his best to ignore the melodic sound of your voice, he continued his journey to finding chasers. He finally found the aisle labeled “beverages” and figured they had to be there. When he turned the corner, his eyes quickly darted to the drink selection in front of him. It was only then that he realized this was a stupid idea; why did Tom put him in charge of chasers? It was still Tom’s party. Just as Harrison was about to say “fuck it” and grab a box of Coke, he realized there was one other person in the aisle to his left. The stranger hadn’t noticed him though and she pushed a loose hair back under her hood before pulling the hood down some more, so her face was a bit more obstructed. Her right hand was shoved into her jacket pocket, fiddling with the cotton material.

Harrison immediately felt a wave of nausea overcome him as his brain processed the stranger as you. It had been four years since he’d stood you up and watched you walk away at the fairgrounds, four whole years since he let his dream girl just walk away, four years since he broke his own heart. He realized he’d been staring too long when you started to look over at him, and before he knew it, he was running out of the aisle and crashing into Harry around the corner.

“Did you get chasers?” Harry asked, confused by his friend’s terrified appearance.

“I- uh, no. I can’t- can’t go down there.” Harrison coughed, scratching his neck nervously.

“Why not?” He looked between Tom and Harrison. Tom’s eyes were just about as wide as Harrison’s; he knew exactly who could be down the aisle to have that sort of effect on his best friend.

“Y/N’s down there?” The older Holland clarified, and the blond nodded, biting his lip.

“Wait, the Y/N?” Harry questioned. He’d heard about the girl that Harrison stood up four years ago, but he’d never actually met her; he’d seen pictures of you, but you were kind of famous now so who hadn’t? Your name had been like a taboo in the Osterfield and Holland households for years now- no one dared to bring you up in front of Harrison, no one except for Tom. Tom was the only person who really knew what happened when it happened. He ended up telling Harry and Sam a few months afterwards, seeing as they were both close with Harrison, but Harrison never told his family. He had told his family that the date went poorly and it was never mentioned again.

“I can’t- I’m- nope.” Harrison was a stuttering mess.

“Look,” Tom started, but his words were cut short as you came around the corner. Harrison quickly dove behind one of the tall bread stands, hoping you hadn’t seen him, but you had and they all knew his hiding spot wasn’t a good one. He mentally cursed at his feet that stood planted in the ground; they wouldn’t let him run away out of this hell of a grocery store.

“Oh, hi, Tom.” You smiled, politely. You had no problem with Tom; after all, he wasn’t the one that stood you up.

“Hey, Y/N.” He leaned over a little, trying to block Harrison from your view. “How have you been?”

“Never better. And you?” You asked, your smile strained as your eyes flickered over to Harrison’s “hidden” figure for a moment. His blue eyes that once captivated you were trained to the ground.

“Been good.” Tom replied, not really sure how long he could keep up the small talk in front of his painstakingly awkward friend.

Harry, on the other hand, wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh at the abnormally pale Harrison or try to console his poor friend. He’d never seen Harrison be so nervous before; sure, he’d seen the blond be nervous before about something, but never this nervous because of a girl. Now he knew what Tom was talking about when he said Harrison was always a mess when it came to you. To Harry, it almost justified Harrison being so nervous that he stood you up, almost (both Hollands still think it was stupid of Harrison to not just get out of the car and go to you).

“Are you having a party or something?” You asked, looking down at the contents of Tom’s cart that included excessive amounts of alcohol and snacks, both savory and sweet.

“Yeah,” He paused for a moment, glancing over at Harrison before a wide smile broke out on his face, “You should come.”

He held back his grimace as Harrison obviously kicked him, silently questioning what the actual fuck he was thinking. You looked at Tom confused because in all your years of knowing him, you two had been more acquaintances than friends, and also it was a party with Harrison there. You weren’t sure if you wanted to even go, but you couldn’t help yourself from saying, “Yeah, sure.”

“Great, I’ll text you the details.” Tom smiled and you nodded.

“Well I should be going, but it was nice seeing you.” You stepped around him, needing to get to an aisle behind him. Harrison did the best thing he could to hide from you, holding up a loaf of bread and keeping his eyes closed, praying the ‘I can’t see you, you can’t see me’ concept would pay off. “Bye, Harrison.”

With that, you walked away from the three boys and Harrison let out a small sigh, putting the bread back on the shelf. Tom laughed as his friend punched him in the arm.

“What the hell was that for?” Harrison questioned, all nervousness going away, but he still looked around the store in paranoia in case you came back.

“It’s perfect, mate. Y/N will come to the party, you can apologize and talk to her, and hopefully she takes you back.” Tom smiled hopefully. He thought his plan was ingenious, but the stern look on his friend’s face said otherwise.

“That’s a shit plan.” He crossed his arms, “Look at me! I still can’t even look at her. She just- ugh, I’m not going.”

“You’d miss my birthday party because of Y/N?”

“Well,” Harrison sighed, knowing Tom would hate him if he actually didn’t go. Plus, it’s at his house so he would have to have a pretty big excuse not to show up. “Fine, but I’m not talking to her.”

“I didn’t believe Tom about Y/N until now. You’re so whipped.” Harry laughed, earning a smack from the frustrated Harrison.

“It’s been four years, and she still has a hold over you. I wonder if she knows.” Tom teased him.

“Shut up.” Harrison grumbled, “Let’s just get the chasers and leave.”

Harrison had one week, a whole seven days to prepare his apology speech. He paced around his room daily, trying to come up with the right words to say, even though you’d leave him too speechless and stunned anyway. He felt like he was attempting at writing a Shakespearean monologue, he felt desperate. But how do you apologize to someone who wasn’t even yours to begin with? How does he tell you that he’s sorry he left you? And that it was all because you made him too nervous to actually do anything? And it ended up breaking his heart and stalling his love life up until this point because no one can compare to you, the girl he’s basically loved since he was 14? He never really admitted it before then, but he did love you and that’s why it hurt even more to reflect on that regretful night.

He often wondered how different his life would be if he had just gotten out of the car. Or even if he had remembered a clean jacket. He would’ve greeted you with a bright smile at the gate, and you’d be overjoyed to see him; you two would have shared food all night long; he would have loved to see the crinkles by your eyes as you smiled and laughed from the thrill of the rides; he would have wanted to kiss you on the top of the ferris wheel because you would already be holding his hand since you were afraid of heights; but he would’ve saved your first kiss for the end of the night, for when he was walking you to your car, his hand in yours, his jacket around your shoulders- he would’ve kissed you under the moonlight. But then, maybe you wouldn’t have had your big break, maybe you wouldn’t have written your first big hit because he was in your life, because he was a distraction from your career- and then neither of you would have really known if you could make it in the music business. Yet again, maybe you two would have moved in together by now, living happily in a small apartment, or even a small house where you could have a dog to run around the yard.

For four years, he’s been dreaming of all the different events that could have occurred if he had just gotten out of the car, if he had just stopped you before you walked away. For four years, you’d owned his heart, and he didn’t know what he was going to do when he saw you tonight at the party.

“I’m sorry.” Harrison mumbled to himself, pulling on a nice button-up. He looked at himself in the mirror, fixing his hair a little. He just kept repeating the two words he so desperately wanted to tell you tonight. Maybe if he said it enough times now before the party, it’d be the only words he could squeak out when you were there. The anxious part of him was hoping you wouldn’t show, that you’d be sick or something and just couldn’t go; but then the realistic part of him remembered that you literally texted Tom this morning, asking why he didn’t tell you it was a birthday party because now you had to get him a last minute gift- apparently you’d seen the news on Twitter.

“Harrison, dear God, please shut the fuck up.” Tom said as he and Harrison were setting up the makeshift bar. The blond hadn’t even realized he was still mindlessly repeating those words.

“Oh, I’m-”

“Sorry. I get it.” He cut him off. “It’s going to be fine. She’s going to come in, and you’ll apologize.”

“That requires me to speak to her.” Harrison stated, his nerves already hitting him as his palms began to grow clammy.

“I had to listen to you go on about this girl for almost a year before you managed to actually say anything but ‘hi’ to her. You are going to talk to her tonight. That’s what the alcohol’s for.” He laughed lightheartedly, before threateningly adding, “And you’re not going to walk away from her!”

“At this point, I’ll be surprised if my feet actually work around her.” He sighed, putting his hands on the counter and leaning into them. He was beyond stressed about the party, which was just an hour away, “I don’t know what it is about her, but I just- I freeze. She’s beautiful and sweet and funny, and she’s got such an incredible singing voice. She’s perfect and breathtaking, and I can’t handle it. She’s absolutely the girl of my dreams but god, these butterflies are the worst thing in the world. Every time she’s near me, I just can’t speak and my heart feels like it’s going to jump out of my chest and my hands get all sweaty and- and I just love her, but I fucked it all up.”

“Calm down, Haz.” Tom spoke softly. “You never know, she might give you another shot. On the bright side, there’s no way you can fuck it up more as long as you don’t freeze.”

“What if-” Harrison paused, standing up straight, “What if I just kept my eyes closed all night, so if I run into her, I won’t freeze because I won’t be able to see her?”

“She’s not fucking Medusa.” His friend smacked him on the back of the head. “Pull yourself together!”

Once the bar was set up, Harrison went back to his room to try to memorize his speech, the perfect words that will hopefully win you over. He read over the small piece of paper, crinkling it under his fingers lightly. He heard Tom start the music and suddenly people began to arrive. He had to go out there now or else he’d never go.

“I can do this.” He told himself as he looked in the mirror, and he suddenly felt like a 19 year old all over again, anxiously hyping himself up for the biggest date of his life. This time it was different. This time he was going to talk to you (well, at least say ‘hi’ before running away).

“You good?” Harry asked as he handed Harrison a drink when the blond finally made it to the kitchen while the party was picking up pace.

“Yeah,” He replied, but it did nothing to convince either of them that he was, in fact, good. Harrison quickly drank the beer, knowing he’d need a bit more if he was going to actually confront you tonight.

“Don’t go too hard. You’ve got to be somewhat coherent when you talk to Y/N.” His friend warned, but Harrison shook him off, downing another. With two drinks suddenly in his system, he stopped to nurse the third one properly. Harry sighed, but he even had to admit that it was a decently good sign that Harrison wasn’t completely planning on being wasted when seeing you (he’d save the shots for after your rejection). Before leaving Harrison alone, Harry stated, “Don’t finish that drink until you talk to her.”

Harrison did as he was told, slowly savoring the one drink while eating some snacks and socializing with old friends. Tom made the rounds throughout the party, and it didn’t take long for Shelby to be latched on his arm. After half an hour of waiting for you, Harrison was about to give up hope and just chug the rest of his drink to get another because he could feel the alcohol slowly fade away. He couldn’t grab another though, because while Harry wasn’t in the kitchen with him anymore, the curly haired Holland still kept a watchful eye on him.

“Haz, look who just showed up.” Tom said, coming over to his friend and nudging him towards the front door, where you just stepped in. Just like that, the nervousness was overflowing in Harrison.

“Go talk to her.” Harry encouraged him, appearing by his side with Sam.

“I don’t-”

“Go!” All three Hollands shouted while Tom physically shoved his friend in your direction. Harrison’s feet took him to you, but they refused to move once your eyes landed on him.

“H-hey, Y/N.” He said, swallowing the anxious lump in his throat.

“Hi, Harrison.” You replied stiffly. In all honesty, you weren’t at all expecting him to actually come over to you and talk to you, not after the grocery store incident.

“Do you- do you want a beer? Or a Whiteclaw? We might have shots too.” Harrison offered. His cheeks heated up with a blush as he stuttered. If he thought he wasn’t good enough for you back then, he definitely felt inadequate now. The past four years had been good to you; you were even more beautiful in his eyes. And it definitely didn’t help that he knew you were a famous singer with probably numerous guys kissing at your feet.

“Could I have a Whiteclaw please?” 

“Uhuh, yeah,” He nodded, but his feet wouldn’t move. They’d fallen under your captivating spell. God, maybe Tom was wrong, maybe you were Medusa. 

“Everything alright?” You asked, pausing as you were going to follow him to the kitchen, yet he made no noticeable effort to move.

“Yeah, yeah.” His feet finally let him move. So far, so good; he had said all of ten words to you and he hadn’t completely frozen yet- and he hadn’t even walked away from you. As you followed Harrison into the kitchen, the other three Holland boys huddled in the crowd to sneakily watch.

“Wait, wait, that’s Harrison’s Y/N?” Sam asked quietly, just as surprised as Harry had been last week. Harrison was an actual mess as he tried to open your Whiteclaw for you, just to have it bubble over into his hands. The three other boys felt a wave of secondhand embarrassment hit them.

“This is painful to watch, but I can’t look away.” Harry laughed, taking a drink of his beer.

“You think this is painful? I had to sit through his schoolboy crush on her for years, I had to hear his every thought about her. And that includes his dilemma of asking her to formal.” Tom shook his head.

“Did he?” Sam asked.

“We were at a party and I think he got out the ‘will you’ part before running off to the bathroom. That’s the only time I’ve ever witnessed him vomiting from alcohol.” He shuddered, remembering having to console his incredibly drunk friend in the bathroom. Now, he was happy that Harrison was finally talking to you like you were a normal person or he was trying to. As if he was trying to will his friend some confidence, he murmured, “Just don’t choke, don’t walk away.”

“Here,” Harrison handed you a cup that he had transferred the Whiteclaw into, not wanting to give you back a sticky can. He washed his hands, acknowledging the sad Whiteclaw mark on his shirt.

“Thanks.” You replied, taking a sip of the drink.

“I’m sorry.” Harrison whispered, but with his back to you, the music blasting, and the sink still on, he knew you didn’t hear it. And he also knew that if he didn’t have the sound to drown out his words and if he turned to face you, he wouldn’t be able to recite his perfect speech. Sighing, he shut off the sink and turned to face you. As he started to speak, you looked at him and that was enough for him to not even make it past the “I”. Instead, he ended standing there and just moving his mouth, trying to get the words to come out.

“Yes?” You questioned. You remembered back at school that he was always nervous around you and you found it really cute and sweet. That was the main reason you were so interested in going on a date with him four years ago, and that was the main reason why you were so disappointed when he never showed up. Out of all the guys you’d ever met, Harrison was the one that you never believed would stand you up like that. It’d been four years, and you didn’t quite know if you still held a grudge over it. It hurt at the time because you really liked him and you thought he really liked you too, but years had passed so surely you should’ve moved on by now, right? And Harrison- he should have moved on too?

“I- um- ya know,” Harrison felt his tongue getting trapped in his throat. He wanted to scream out how sorry he was about everything and how much he actually cared about you, but the thought of actually talking anymore was making him want to vomit and he hadn’t even had that much to drink. Maybe alcohol with extreme nervousness wasn’t a good mixture for his body.

“Hey,” Tom approached you and Harrison, sweeping in to save his bumbling best friend.

“Hey, happy birthday.” You smiled at him. Harrison hung his head low in shame, he’d manage to mess it up again. He was more than thankful for Tom’s arrival.

“Thank you.” The birthday boy replied with a smile. He turned to Harrison and nudged him a little. “Harrison, what were you going to say?”

“Just, um-“ Harrison lifted his head to look at you, and suddenly wished he hadn’t. With your eyes resting on his intently and his heart beating fast, he could barely think. He thought back to his speech, back to those apologetic words he needed to say, back to his conversation with Tom just moments before the party. He quickly realized his mistake of thinking back to that recent memory because, before he could process his words, he helplessly blurted out, “You’re like Medusa.”

“Yeah- what?” Tom stopped himself, horrified at his friend’s words. He was fully prepared to back Harrison up, expecting him to say ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘I love you’- just anything besides ‘you’re like Medusa’. You just stood there with your eyes wide and jaw dropped. You didn’t even know what you were expecting him to say, but it definitely was not that.

“You know, like- you just-“ The blond tripped on his words, looking to Tom for help.

“What he means to say,” He sent his friend a glare before turning to you, “He’s sorry about your date years ago, and he finds you mesmerizing.”

“You know what? I don’t want to hear it.” You spoke angrily, feeling hurt by Harrison’s words. So much for the sweet and cute teenager you remembered. “Go fuck yourself, Harrison.” Before you even processed your own actions, you threw the rest of your drink on him and stormed out.

“I’m,” Harrison sighed in defeat as his body started to function without you there, “Sorry.”

“Medusa? Are you fucking serious?” Tom asked, infuriated at his friend’s idiotic words. He was grateful that the party was too loud for anyone to register your actions, except for Sam and Harry who were quick by Harrison’s side.

“What the hell happened?” Harry questioned.

“I fucked it up even more.” Harrison groaned, grabbing some napkins to try to wipe off his face and shirt.

“He said she was like Medusa.” Tom explained.

“Since when is your game with girls shit?” Sam stated.

“She is like Medusa though. I freeze whenever she’s there.” The poor blond kept trying to wipe himself off.

“Well you don’t tell her that!”

“I need to go change.” Harrison sighed, leaving for his bedroom without another word.

“We either need to help him get over her or help him get her back.” Harry said as he watched his friend’s retreating form.

“Tonight was supposed to be getting her back.” Tom huffed in defeat. “This is going to be harder than I thought.”

Back in his room, Harrison discarded his wet shirt and went to his closet to grab a fresh shirt. That’s when he spotted it- the blue button up he’d worn for his date with you. It was his favorite shirt in his teen years, everyone always complimented it and his eyes whenever he wore it; but it had negative memories surrounding it, the negative thoughts of what could have been. It was mocking him. Grabbing a different shirt, he slipped it on comfortably.

He didn’t want to go back to the party downstairs. He just wanted to stay within the comforts of his room, where he could hide from socializing and act like you didn’t just humiliate him, like he had humiliated you years ago. He had to admit, he deserved a Whiteclaw to the face; in fact, he’d absolutely let you pour an entire keg on him if it made you feel better. God, he was so whipped for you, and you didn’t even know it, and worst of all, you weren’t even his.

Sighing, he laid down on his bed, wanting to savor a few minutes alone. It took him a moment before he registered the soft crinkling of paper and realized he’d been laying on his prepared speech for you.

‘I’m sorry, Y/N. I know you’re probably still mad, but just hear me out. I’m four years too late, and that’s four years I should’ve shown you just how amazing you are. I remember the first day I saw you at school. You were the prettiest girl in our school by far; I’d never seen anything as magnificent as you. You were funny, sweet, confident, beautiful inside and out- you were my dream girl. It took me months to work up the courage to talk to you, and I was so pleased when you’d reply to my small greetings with a simple smile. And then it took me even longer to have a full conversation with you. Do you remember it? It was about When Harry Met Sally because you said it was your favorite movie. I told you that I had seen it, but I lied and you knew it too. You were too nice to call me out on that though. Honestly, I still haven’t seen it. I know we didn’t talk much in school, it was more of a ‘we’re friends because we share classes’ friendship, but I still cherished every single time I got to hear your voice.

I know you’re wondering why I stood you up back then, but I didn’t intentionally do it. I was there, at the fairgrounds, two minutes early, and I was stressing over everything- over how I didn’t have a clean jacket to offer you in case you got cold, how I should greet you at the gate, whether or not I should kiss you at the end of the night. You meant so much to me back then- you still do now, but I was too nervous. I couldn’t get out of my car once I saw you there in that blue dress with the dandelions. You were breathtaking, and I couldn’t comprehend how someone as incredible as you would want to go on a date with me. You had almost every single guy at the school in love with you, it just didn’t seem possible that I could win your heart. It took me an hour, but I finally got out of the car and I was going over to you. I was so anxious and I still didn’t know what to say to you. You didn’t realize I was there, but I heard you on the phone. You said you wore that blue dress because you thought it matched my eyes, because you thought I’d like it more, you thought it’d make me like you more.

But you didn’t need a baby blue dress to make me like you. I was so head over heels in love with you back then. You didn’t know it then, and I didn’t know it quite yet either, but you owned my heart. I know this is a lot, and I know this is cheesy, but I do love you. I regret what I did four years ago and I often contemplate how different our lives would be if I had actually shown up like I was supposed to. I don’t regret giving you my heart though; it’s been yours for years and it’ll probably always be yours. So please, will you give me another chance? Will you go on a date with me? And I promise to show up and make it worth your while. You own my heart, please give me a chance at yours.’

Harrison laughed lightly to himself. The note was a pathetic attempt at some grand declaration of love and an apology. As sad as the speech was, he hated himself for not saying it to you. Instead he called you Medusa, of all things to say that was the worst. He didn’t mean it as a put-down or as a derogatory statement; he meant that you were just so captivating to him that he froze whenever he saw you. Everything about you was so beautiful, and he really needed to tell you that, even though he was sure you already knew it. He knew what he meant, but it didn’t come across at all how he intended it to.

He set the paper on his desk and left his room, knowing Tom would be expecting him to return to the party. Freshly changed, he went back downstairs and spotted the other three boys still in the kitchen conversing- he bet it had something to do with him, seeing as they all immediately quieted down when they saw him coming towards them.

“You alright?” Tom asked, genuinely concerned about his friend, even though he was currently trying to plot getting you and Harrison at least in the same room together again.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” Harrison replied. He gave his friend a reassuring smile, but he wasn’t fooling anyone really. He grabbed himself a new drink and went to get lost in the crowd. Tom sighed; maybe he shouldn’t have tried to push Harrison tonight, seeing his friend so upset just put a downer on Tom’s mood.

The night went on for Harrison though. Harry had been right last week- Shelby did bring some pretty attractive friends with her that she introduced to the blond (he thought mainly because Tom asked her to after the earlier events). One of them latched onto Harrison, and he didn’t mind the distraction, turning on his charm easily for her. Sam and Harry eyed their friend from afar as he flirted with the new girl; there was no denying Harrison could easily get a girl, which made it even more unbelievable that he was so tongue tied over you.

A few days passed and Harrison was still trying to recover from the party. His thoughts were still stuck on you. He couldn’t believe he had a second chance to talk to you and didn’t. Well, he did, but comparing you to Medusa wasn’t a good talk.

Unbeknownst to him, Tom had created an “ingenious” plan of getting Harrison to see you again, another shot for their friend to say something more than just a sad simile.

“We’re leaving now.” Tom said to Harrison as he and Harry started to walk out the door.

“Okay?” Harrison questioned. It was odd for any of them to announce that they were leaving the house. He had a strange feeling that his friends were up to something, but he couldn’t be bothered to actually care. What he didn’t realize was that Tom left with an envelope, encasing a familiar speech written by Harrison himself.

Hearing the front door close, he turned back to his phone in his hand. He took a sip of his tea as he continued to scroll through your Wikipedia page. Was it weird that he was looking you up? As long as no one knew, he felt like it was fine. He read over your brief background, which just said you were from Kingston.

He choked on his drink a little as he read over how you were discovered. You were singing one of your own songs in a cafe when an agent spotted you and eventually offered you a record deal. The song became your first official single and it was featured on your album of the same name. The song and album name? Dandelion. He could see it then, your blue dress with the delicate dandelion print on it with a denim jacket on top and a slightly damaged left pocket. He turned on the song on Spotify, listening to the lyrics, curious to see if it was about him. As the soft song began, he started to feel foolish; why would you have written a song about him? Maybe you just liked dandelions? Maybe you wore that dress on many dates? It looked incredible on you, so why wouldn’t you wear it often?

“Dandelion, a million little wishes float across the sky, but it’s a waste of breath and it’s a waste of time, I know,” You sounded almost sad as you sang, and Harrison assumed that’s what made you such a good singer, your emotion bled through into your songs, “‘Cause just like him, you always leave me crying, dandelion,”

Crying. Harrison made you cry when he stood you up. Maybe the song wasn’t completely about him, but something told him you may have been inspired after that night. He looked further into the song, wondering if maybe you had publicly said anything. Under the song’s Wikipedia page, it had a quote from you, saying “It was one of the worst nights of my life, getting stood up absolutely sucks and it’s embarrassing, but this song changed my life for the better, so I can’t help but feel a little grateful for that awful date”. As if the song didn’t already make him feel worse about it, you had confirmed it was about him, except no one knew that besides the two of you and anyone else who knew about that date specifically. Further looking into the seemingly endless page of information, he spotted the awards section. He couldn’t hide his pained smile as he read that not only was the song and album nominated for a Grammy, but you had actually won a Grammy for the song. So maybe there was a bright side to him not showing up that night because his actions made you write an incredible song.

As the song faded out, he jumped, hearing a sharp knock at the door. He quickly paused your music and closed out of his tab, not wanting anyone to have caught him basically stalking you online. He shoved his phone into the pocket of his sweatpants and walked to the door, wondering who would be arriving unannounced. He opened the door and froze, just like a few days ago, as you stood on his doorstep. The small smile on your face faltered as you saw him.

“Y/N, what- what are you doing here?” He asked, trying to wrap his head around the fact that you were there and it wasn’t just a hallucination.

“Tom invited me. Something about using my music in a film?” You explained, and Harrison raised his eyebrows at you questioningly. You sighed lightly, “Can I just come in and see Tom?”

“He, uh, he isn’t here.” He replied. A light bulb went off in his head, realizing why Tom was literally announcing his departure; he wanted you to be alone with Harrison.

“He said he was here. I just talked to him on the phone.” You stated, not fully believing him.

“No, he isn’t here.” He shook his head.

“Well, um, then I’m going to go.” You said, turning around. Harrison’s mind was racing, you were about to leave him again. Tom had already tried once to get you two together; he couldn’t let his best friend down again, he couldn’t let himself down again.

“”Dandelion”.” Harrison blurted out, stepping out of his to catch you before you got into your car.

“What?” You questioned.

“”Dandelion”. It’s a really good song.” He grimaced, suddenly feeling lame for saying it out loud. He didn’t mean to bring it up, but he needed to say something to you, and dear God it needed to be better than the Medusa comment.

“Thanks, I won a Grammy for it, so,” You answered proudly, pursing your lips together.

“I- I know.” His flickered down to your hand that rested almost threateningly on your car door handle. You were just about to pull it and leave when he spoke up again, “That dress looked amazing on you.”

This time, it was you who froze. You weren’t wearing a dress now, you weren’t wearing one at the party, and you definitely weren’t wearing one at the grocery store. Your mind had already made up its decision of what he meant, but your heart wouldn’t accept that pain all over again. “It’s been four years, Harrison. You don’t get to say anything now. I thought you were better than standing up a girl on a date that she was genuinely looking forward to.”

Harrison couldn’t react fast enough to your seething words before you got in your car and slammed the door shut, driving off quickly without sparing him another glance.  Once your car was out of sight, Harrison screamed out in agonizing frustration. He had you right there, you were right in front of him, he was actually talking to you, and he still managed to mess it all up. It seemed like no matter what he said or did, you weren’t ready to forgive him, but he wasn’t even sure he deserved your forgiveness.

“You let her go again?” Tom questioned, coming around the far corner of the house with Harry.

“I thought you two left.” Harrison looked at the pair suspiciously.

“We had to make sure you didn’t fuck it up again, but seems like you did.” He sighed, shaking his head, “Why did you tell her you were there? That’ll make her feel worse!”

“At least you didn’t call her Medusa.” Harry added, earning a pointed look from Harrison.

“Just stop trying to set me up with Y/N. She’s clearly still mad at me over it, and I can’t keep going through this humiliating cycle of rejection.”  With that, Harrison wordlessly stormed back into the house and up to his room, angry at his friends for trying so hard to make this right, angry at you for rejecting him yet again, angry at himself for letting you go again and again. Could he get another chance with you after messing it up four years ago and at the grocery store and at the party and now? He so desperately wanted the answer to be yes, but he feared his chances with you were up.

Harry turned skeptically to his older brother as the two walked inside the house. “Are you sure that was a good idea?”

“He talked to her at least. He said a full sentence and it was a compliment.” He said proudly, walking into the kitchen with his brother following him.

“No, I’m not talking about that. I’m meaning your other plan.” 

“The letter? There’s two ways it can go: Y/N never talks to him again or she’s touched and reaches out to him.” He stopped, thinking for a moment, “Or she writes another Grammy-winning song about him being a dick. We’ll see in a few days what she does.”

“He’s going to hate you for this, you know that.”

“He won’t hate me when they’re on a date.”

“No, I’m pretty sure he’ll hate you for invading his privacy.”

“Whatever. Our plan is genius.” Tom smiled, extremely hopeful about his plan.

“Our? This was all your idea.”

“You’re an accomplice.”

“I’m a victim caught in the crossfire.” Harry held up his hands defensively.

Upstairs, Harrison was starting to grow worried. Where was his paper? He’d been running through it almost every day, hoping to grow the courage to tell you exactly how he felt. He was shit at words in person when it came to you, and he felt like he was even worse on paper. The speech was gone, and he had no clue where it was. He hoped no one had stumbled upon it- after all, he definitely hadn’t told his housemates about it.

Two days later, Tom started to get anxious, waiting for you to receive the letter and contact his friend. He thought perhaps it got put with fanmail, and you just wouldn’t see it for a while. He knew it was soon, but he was really, really impatient and he just wanted to do one thing right for his best friend, even if Harrison’s one request was for Tom to stop trying to be his wingman (in Tom’s defense, he told him to stop after the letter was sent and Harrison still didn’t know about it).

Trying to distract himself, Tom played Warzone with Harry. Neither of them had really talked about the whole letter situation, wanting the letter to take its own course. Just before they started another round, they heard a thud from Harrison’s room.

“What was that?” The older boy mumbled in confusion.

“Maybe he fell off the bed.” Harry laughed. His joke was short lived as Harrison came bolting down the stairs, phone in hand.

“Tom, give me your phone.” He insisted.

“Why?” Tom asked, handing over his phone anyway. After scrolling through it for a moment, Harrison’s eyes went wide.

“Holy shit!” He exclaimed, looking between the two phone screens.

“What is it?” The two others questioned.

“Y/N- she texted me.” Harrison smiled in disbelief, handing his friend his phone back. He sat down in the empty armchair and looked at his phone in awe.

“What’d she say?” Tom spoke up, ignoring his brother’s questioning look.

“She just said ‘You get one date. Don’t mess this up’.” He read off his phone, and Tom turned to his brother, nudging him a little. You’d gotten Harrison’s letter (that Tom sent) and you’d given him another chance.

“What’d you respond with?” Harry asked.

“I haven’t responded yet. She just texted me.” He said, nervously moving his thumbs as his phone rested in his hands. “Do I just ask about this Friday?”

“You mean tomorrow?” Tom clarified and he nodded.

“Too soon?”

“No, go for it.” He encouraged his friend. He smiled proudly as Harrison typed out the text and sent it to you.

“I wonder what changed her mind. I mean she was really mad last time. What if she’s leading me on? What if she’s going to stand me up?” He rambled anxiously. God, you hadn’t even planned a date yet, and he was a nervous mess.

“She wouldn’t do that.” Tom reassured him. Harrison hurried out of the room, murmuring something about needing to plan the perfect date (round 2). Tom turned to his younger brother, “She wouldn’t stand him up as revenge, right?”

Harry shrugged with a small sigh. Well, the boys could hope your intentions were good.

As Harrison tried to reel in his head and racing heart in the quiet reserve of his room, he felt his phone vibrate with another text from you. ‘They’re showing When Harry Met Sally tomorrow night at the park. Pick me up at 7?’

That’s not at all what he expected to receive back from you. Well, he definitely didn’t expect a text from you in the first place, which is why he had to check that it was actually your number on Tom’s phone. He didn’t expect your response to his sorta lame ‘are you free tomorrow night’ to be you planning the date itself. And not only that, but you wanted to see When Harry Met Sally- the first thing he ever truly talked to you about.

He could still remember that conversation clear as day. You were sitting beside him in study hall and pulled out your iPod to listen to music, since your 2010 phone didn’t have any music on it. You didn’t realize your headphones weren’t completely in, and your music started to play quietly. Harrison heard the soft jazz song play and decided to ask you about it before you got too caught up in your work. You smiled, telling him how “It Had to Be You” was from the greatest movie of all-time (in your opinion) When Harry Met Sally. He told you he’d seen it before and thoroughly enjoyed it as well, but the blank stare on his face when you brought up Meg Ryan was a dead giveaway to you that he hadn’t actually seen it. And yet, you didn’t make a comment about it; instead you asked him about his favorite movie. Before he could respond, your teacher called for silence, making you focus back on your work with your headphones plugged all the way into your iPod. Harrison thought that perhaps he saw you blush as you turned away from him, but he was too preoccupied with his mind still trying to process that you two had a conversation, a tiny one but it was enough for him.

He couldn’t argue with you about seeing the movie at the park tomorrow. You were giving him another chance, and if you wanted to see a movie in the park then Harrison would make damn sure that you’d get to see a movie in the park, even if he had to set up the projector and screen all by himself. This was his fifth chance with you, he couldn’t mess this up again.

“Ok, now remember, Y/N’s a human being so talk to her like one.” Tom stated as he stood by the front door with Harry and Sam beside him. Harrison sat at the step at the bottom of the stairs, tugging on his shoes. His big date was finally here, and his friends were grilling him on making it perfect. It kind of helped, but it also stressed him out a bit more.

“And compliment her, but not in a weird way.” Sam added.

“Don’t even think about Medusa.” Harry piped in.

“You got a clean jacket?” The oldest Holland asked. Harrison ducked back into his room to grab a fresh jacket, one that was perfect for you to wear tonight if you got cold.

“And you have the flowers, right?” At Harry’s words, the nervous boy rushed into the kitchen to grab the small, modest bouquet of fresh roses he had gotten earlier.

“How do I look?” Harrison asked, seeking approval as he held the bouquet in one hand and his jacket and keys in another. In jeans and a casual yet dressy blue shirt, he hoped he looked good enough for you. He thought about wearing that blue shirt he wore last time, but decided against it- maybe that shirt has bad voodoo on it, he didn’t know and he didn’t want to test it.

“You look great, now go get her.” Tom ushered him out of the door.

With a confident yet nervous spring in his step, Harrison stepped inside his car. He delicately placed the flowers and jacket on the passenger seat, sure to not damage or dirty either of them. He made his way over to your place, his fingers drumming nervously on the steering wheel. ‘Don’t choke’ he reminded himself. He needed to just make sure he didn’t freeze when he saw you; that was the most important thing, especially since he’d be driving the two of you tonight.

He pulled up to your house just two minutes before he was meant to be there. Two minutes for him to get up and greet you at the door. Just as he was about to open his door and step outside, your front door opened. He sat there awestruck as he watched you lock your door and head over to his car. You were sporting jeans and a simple navy blue blouse, and he swore you looked absolutely gorgeous. He unlocked his car and you opened the door, not even giving him any time to actually greet you outside.

“I got you flowers.” Harrison said, grabbing the jacket and the flowers off the seat to make room for you to sit.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to.” You smiled softly, but still graciously accepted the flowers when he handed them to you. You smelled them and eyed the various pink and red roses that made up the bouquet, “They’re beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful.” He replied, making you stifle a small laugh, even though you both knew how much he meant it. 

“You look pretty handsome, too.” You stated and he started his car back up. “Sorry for rushing out here. My roommate was driving me crazy.”

“I get it.” He laughed, thinking about just how crazy Tom had been acting the past couple weeks. Well, maybe his craziness rubbed off because it led to this moment right here- Harrison taking you on a proper date and hopefully, not freezing.

As Harrison drove over to the park, you two talked about basically everything, about how eager you were to show him this movie, about how his acting had been doing, about how his dog was (he was surprised you remembered Monty). All of it just made him feel more comfortable. Once he got past the wall of nerves from your presence, he was able to flick on his charm for you. You may have been his dream girl, but you were also just a regular person, a person he could hold a steady conversation with. When the two of you arrived at the park, he quickly rushed to the back of his car instead of walking towards the movie itself.

“I brought us a blanket and some snacks.” He explained when he saw your confusion. You smiled at him as he got out a large blanket and a bag of sweets and drinks from his trunk. You may have been the one to decide on the date itself, but he did his own part of the planning, ensuring you had a clean spot to sit and something to eat and drink while the movie played. “I didn’t know what snacks you liked so I kinda got some of everything.”

He opened the bag out to show you its contents and you peered inside. He had sweet candy, chocolate candy, salty snacks, just everything. You looked back up at him and a bright blush made its way onto his cheeks. In your eyes, he was back to being the sweet 19 year old you had agreed to go on a date with four years ago.

“It’s perfect.” You reassured him, but you weren’t even sure if you meant the snacks or the date or just him.

“Well, we better hurry if we want a good spot before the movie starts.” Harrison laughed lightly, closing the bag and shutting his trunk. You walked beside him to where the movie would be showing and found a nice spot near a tree. He laid out the blanket for you and the two of you sat down next to each other, but not enough to actually be touching.

“I’m genuinely excited for you to see this.” You told him as the ads finished, signaling the start of the movie.

“I am, too.” He smiled over at you one last time before the movie truly began. It was only a few minutes into the film when you shifted to lean in Harrison’s side. After the initial shock of your movement, Harrison wrapped an arm around your waist so that you could fall easily into his side while you watched the movie play out. Halfway through the film, he felt you shiver a little and quickly handed you his jacket. He smiled to himself, happy that he definitely did at least one thing right, as you thanked him for the warm jacket.

Sharing snacks with you throughout the movie, he found himself truly enjoying it. He could see how it was your favorite film, how you loved the featured song so much that it was your favorite song. He couldn’t help but acknowledge how it was a film all about second chances, or really just multiple chances with the same person over and over again until they both finally got it right. His history with you may not have been exactly like the film, but he felt like it still resonated; he wondered if you chose the movie completely on accident or if you had remembered about that first conversation, if you had thought of it as similar to your current situation.

His overthinking wasn’t done there though. As he drove you back to your place after the movie concluded, you two discussed the movie (this time with actually understanding who Meg Ryan is). He was a little dazed as he talked, trying to think of how to end the night. Would it be too forward if he kissed you? Because truth be told, he’d wanted to kiss you since the moment he saw you all those years ago. When he pulled up to your house, he was happy to see you still casually wearing his jacket. He didn’t want the night to end, especially considering he still hadn’t really apologized for four years ago, still hadn’t explained himself for what happened at the party, still hadn’t explicitly told you about the mesmerizing effect you had over him.

“Well, thank you for tonight. It was nice.” You spoke up with a smile.

“Yeah, it was.” He nodded, feeling himself start to choke up. He’d made it almost two hours without becoming speechless in front of you, and now at the end of the night, perhaps when it mattered most, he couldn’t speak. You waited a moment before getting out of his car, almost like you were expecting him to say something more. He watched your retreating figure, your right hand shoved deep into his jacket’s pockets. It hit him all at once; you were nervous, you were wearing his jacket, you were walking away from him again. He wasn’t going to let that happen.

“Wait!” Harrison rushed out of his car and hurried up the driveway to you on the porch. As you stood there in front of him, looking at him intently, his nerves came racing back to him, but he had to say the words. ‘It’s now or never’, he told himself.

“Okay, this is four years overdue, but here it goes.” He started with a small sigh, “I know you think I didn’t show the night I was supposed to meet you at the carnival, but I did. You were standing at the front gate. You were wearing a light blue babydoll dress with dandelions on it and a jean jacket, but the right pocket was ripped because you always used to shove your first in there when you got nervous.” You slowly looked down at your right hand, nervously in the jacket’s pocket. Speechless, you listened to him continuing on. 

“You were pacing back and forth that night and waited around for almost an hour before you walked away. And you were on the phone to someone when you walked away, telling them that you wore that dress so that it would match my eyes.” Harrison paused, swallowing down his nerves, “I was so nervous, I choked. And you know what, that hardly ever happens to me, but the truth is, Y/N, I think I liked you too much, and somewhere in the back of my head, I knew what that night would mean, and even how my life could be different now if I hadn’t let you walk away, but this a different moment, and- and it’s a chance to make a different choice.” He felt himself starting to choke up again, “And you’re really amazing, and I know we can’t go back in time, but I wish that there was some way-”

Harrison’s words were cut short as you grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. Though he was incredibly stunned by the fact that you kissed him, his arms went to your waist, pulling you into him as he kissed you back passionately. The kiss ended all too quickly for him when you stopped it for air.

“Definitely four years overdue.” You smiled at him. If he wasn’t breathless already from the passionate kiss, your smile just his breath away even more.

“Thank you for giving me another chance. I really didn’t want to mess any of this up.” He admitted.

“Well, the letter was so sweet, I couldn’t say no.” You leaned in to kiss him again. He pulled back from the kiss though with wide eyes.

“What letter?” He asked.

“The one that you wrote? About me being the prettiest girl in school and how you were there when I thought you stood me up?” You explained, and his cheeks grew red in embarrassment.

“You weren’t supposed to see that.” He groaned, “I wrote that just so I could apologize to you at the party and to tell you how much you mean to me. I didn’t mean to say you’re like Medusa- I just meant that you’re-” You cut him off with another kiss.

“You talk too much sometimes.” You laughed.

“I can get used to getting cut off like that.” Harrison smiled at you, kissing you again.

He may be mad at Tom for sending that private speech, but Harrison got the girl in the end so maybe his friend wasn’t the worst wingman ever.

[merryfortune]

Beloved by Bronze

Written for 100ships Challenge on Dreamwidth 

Prompt #07 Bronze

Ship: Hilda/Marianne

Fandom: Fire Emblem Three Houses

Word Count: 2,784

Rating: T

Warnings: No Warnings Apply

Tags:  Alternate Universe - Pygmalion & Galatea, Fairy Tales, Fluff, Minor or Implied Gaslighting (Hilda to Ignatz)

   Bronze was Hilda’s least favourite material to work with.

   It had so many steps to be used. It wasn’t just a mere assembly of smaller pieces, like with the clay beads she usually made to make jewellery, it was a lot more work than merely rubbing something down until it was tiny and firing it in a kiln. Or even just loosening fine steel to make intricate chain links so encoil into bracelets. It was so much more effort. Especially when the expectation was to create something huge, not just what Hilda usually made in her pursuit of jewellery.

    Bronze meant moulds and castings and sandblasting and fiddling around with wax which rarely smelt of honey. But it was all worth it in the end, Hilda had to admit, if only to get to the part of working with it that Hilda did like. That was the act of polishing.

   She enjoyed polishing across all her craft hobbies - and even some that didn’t involve craft. There was something about beautifying things, making them shine to their truest potential, that resonated with Hilda to the bottom of her soul. It was the only kind of hard work and effort that she liked to pour into things, rubbing them down with a rag, going as hard in with the elbow grease as possible. It worked up a sweat but the result even blew Hilda away and she was the artist.

   This particular project was no different in the regard that Hilda liked polishing it but it was exceptional in how she felt when she finished.

   She had been commissioned by the city to create a new statue to install close to the plaza. When she had first heard that, Hilda assumed that the city council representatives had meant for her to create bits and pieces to go towards a new statue, accessories for it, but no. They wanted her to make the whole statue and she had been ready to whip out a crate of marble but no, it had to be bronze since the fountain it was meant to adorn was slightly saline and marble had a weakness to salt. Hilda had tried to worm herself out of this commission but the time they gave her was generous and as was the offer that it could be a statue of whatever she pleased was enough to mute her.

   The only real condition was that she had to be finished by the time of the next Festival of the Goddess next year sans one day so there was time for the installation to go up. Hilda nodded and even though she had been initially reluctant, she did get to work almost immediately as her early process did require a few days of sloth for her to think.

   But if it was for the Goddess, Hilda did come upon an idea that she liked and thought would be well received by the cityship. Thus, Hilda toiled for months and months to create her statue. She drew up plans and concepts and once they solidified, she began to tinker with the wax moulds, dicing up her idea into more manageable pieces and soon enough, time began to fly for Hilda. She was nothing if not passionate about beauty and she was endeavouring to create the most beautiful woman to stand romantic watch over the plaza and fountain she was intended for. Someone who could take the breath away from any man, woman, or child and Hilda was certain she had succeeded.

   The famed jewellery maker of the city was now about to become a famed artist who would be remembered for eons by everyone, not just the select few who had bought her wares and retained them for future generations. Her name would be carved at the pedestal the statue was to be erected upon and that did excite Hilda somewhat. She had never considered herself fame hungry but it was a temptation none could resist. Especially when Hilda knew to be rightfully proud of her work.

   “You're done…” Hilda murmured to herself, starstruck, as she removed her cloth from the statue’s face.

   It was late in the afternoon, with an orange sunset filtering into the clutter and clamour of Hilda’s work studio and the light complemented the statue’s complexion immaculately. She - not it, but she - looked sublime. She looked better than Hilda could ever have imagined and she could hardly believe that this statue was the product of Hilda’s efforts and toiling. Now, she just needed a name and from thin air, Hilda managed to pluck one.

   “Marianne…” Hilda murmured. “Your name will be Marianne, my beloved.”

   Hilda took a step back from her creation and smiled softly. She, the statue, her dear Marianne stood with a delicate pose and small, gentle hands. Her lips slightly parted, perfect for a surprise kiss, and her eyes were wide, doe-like. Every hair upon her head looked realistic and came together with a braid at the back like a clothed crown of old. Her clothes were modest but elegant: frugal but timeless. Hilda felt the pace of her heartbeat quicken the more and more she admired her statue, poring over it, ensuring she was nothing less than perfection and finding no flaw even though her eyes were weary from the last of the polishing.

   There was no doubt this bronze statue could stand and stand for centuries at the plaza, she was sturdy and firm but Hilda’s swiftly beating heart wrenched. She swallowed. And she realised something. She didn’t want to give up this statue to the very city council who had paid for the materials and more for it. The very city council whose representatives would be here tomorrow to collect her from Hilda and she felt this streak of stubbornness flare.

   Hilda stepped closer to Marianne once more and Hilda had no doubt that were anyone to see her creation, they would feel the same. An attraction that was deep and enamouring. And so, anyone would do the same.

   Hilda put her hands atop of Marianne’s, cupping them slightly. The bronze was stiff, unhuman but Hilda minded not. She sighed before she kissed Marianne’s mouth. Her lips, too, were stiff but Hilda kissed passionately against her bronze lover regardless, savouring the fleeting warmth from being polished. She dearly recalled the hours that she had been put into Marianne and no wonder they had came so easily to Hilda, it was because they were expended in the name of love, not money or fame or anything else like that.

   The kiss was wonderful and Hilda was hesitant to pull away. Unfortunately, she had to breathe whereas Marianne had no such need to. Bronzed and in eternity as she was; the notion, Hilda mulled over as she pulled away, was bittersweet as that meant her lover could not fully feel at all.

   Something like regret clouded Hilda’s emotions. She was tired. Hungry. Had been working long hours as joyful as they had been, polishing the imperfections from Marianne and ensuring her beauty. She needed to get some sleep so Hilda left her studio with rue in her footsteps.

   She ate a sweet pastry by herself in her room, thinking about Marianne. The Festival to the Goddess was the day after tomorrow. On one hand, Hilda wanted to bask and praise, she wanted Marianne seen by all and appreciated for her beauty. On the other, the creation could only truly and purely be loved by the creator and Hilda did not want to relinquish Marianne to the masses who may see her as spectacle or novelty for a handful of times before just becoming part of the scenery of the city, nothing particularly special or extraordinary. The thought of that happening distressed Hilda so she offered a prayer.

   Hilda was not typically the type to pray, let alone as earnestly as she did in her room, over food and by her bed. She pleaded with the Mother Goddess for her love unto Marianne. For it to be made as precious as the very metals that Marianne was made of. She drifted off into a dreamless sleep, still with her hands clasped in prayer over her breast.

   In the morning, Hilda woke up and felt well rested. She almost felt as though the day before, completing Marianne and kissing her on that romantic, artistic impulse, had been a dream but Hilda knew her sleep to be empty of such imaginations. She took her plate from last night to her room, clandestine proof that yesterday had happened, and returned into the kitchen. Through the window of it, she glimpsed her studio.

   She wondered when Ignatz or whatever his name was and his posse of similarly downtrodden and mousy public servants would come. They usually arrived after lunch but they were so pesky with how bright eyed and bushy-tailed they could be. Completely unlike Hilda who had, she realised by the clockface on her kitchen wall quite idly, had slept to mid-morning once more. She sighed. It could even be sooner but ultimately, these were all rationalisations for her own whim to visit Marianne in her studio.

   She was still there, funnily enough. Still a statue; still as a statue. Hilda smiled as she circled Marianne. It hadn’t just been an illusion, her hard work had truly paid off and the gratification was immensely satisfying. Marianne was as perfect as a person could be. Or as perfect as a person could make.

   “Good morning, my love.” Hilda greeted her, stood in front of her, playful and even flirting. “I thought about you all night and yet… I slept so brilliantly.”

   Marianne smiled. She smiled the same smile that Hilda had sculpted onto her.

   “I hope you thought about me all night.” Hilda murmured and she invited herself to a kiss on that cue.

   Hilda kissed Marianne and she could swear that she could hear the saints singing at that but, more likely than not, it was just the sweet twittering of birds outside. Hilda sighed into the kiss and Marianne kissed back. Her lips were soft and supple. Hilda gasped and pulled back.

   “Marianne?” she exclaimed, eyes wide.

   Marianne’s head shifted and her expression, it turned bashful, “Yes, Hilda?” she asked. “Is, um, something the matter? D-Did I displease you, somehow.”

   “Displease me?” hilda echoed back and her hands flung out in joy. “Oh, Marianne, you could never.”

   Hilda kissed Marianne again. Wild and excited and giggly. She caressed Marianne’s cheeks as she kissed her and everything about her was soft and warm and human. She was hardly bronze at all. Marianne kissed her creator back: glad to be alive, even gladder still to be loved.

   “Oh, Marianne,” Hilda murmured, “how did this happen?”

   “We were blessed by the Goddess.” Marianne replied quietly and she touched back at Hilda’s face.

   She admired everything about Hilda, as though she were the work of art, not Marianne. Hilda didn’t mind at all. She marvelled at how Marianne touched her, explored her body and the sensation of touch at all. Marianne was ecstatic with this newfound freedom of her human body now freed of bronze.

   The newness of it all made them both giddy but somehow, they managed to retreat from the studio. There were so many more pleasures than just kissing and touching that Hilda wanted to show Marianne and she was eager to learn so they broke their first fast together, having an early lunch of sandwiches and pikelets, whatever either of them wanted and if Marianne could, she would want it all.

   Their feast and merrymaking, however, was eventually interrupted. Just as Hilda thought they would, in the early afternoon, the city council representatives came and it was the teeny-tiny, bespectacled one who led the horde. He smiled sheepishly at Hilda’s front door and she let him in, smiling mischievously to herself as she thought he would be all too easy to dupe.

   “It;s good to see you again, Miss Goneril,” he said as he politely shuffled through her kitchen, having visited numerous times before, he was aware of its attachment to Hilda’s art studio, “it’s been far too long since we’ve last seen each other.”

   “I’d say.” Hilda snickered as she opened up the door to the studio for him.

   Ignatz vibrated as he adjusted his glasses, “The day of the Festival is tomorrow and we’ve got all the preparations to unveil your sculpture tomorrow, we’re very excited.”

   “Yeah… about that…” Hilda murmured.

   Ignatz glanced, confused, at Hilda but his confusion only thickened as he glanced around her rustic workspace. Everything was in a clutter but there was a pattern to it, he noticed, it was clean enough without being minimal. Things had places, purposes, but what he could not find was the thing that should be most obvious of all.

   “Miss Goneril…” he began, concerned, turning his head to Hilda who toyed with a strand of her hair in seemingly absent thought but her pink eyes were vivid with a scheme, he could tell. “Where is the statue we commissioned? It should be finished, should it not?”

   “Yeah, I got bored and gave up.” Hilda shrugged. “Spent all your money and stuff, it was much more fun than working with that stupid bronze, ugh, it was so hard to use.”

   “Miss Goneril!” Ignatz exclaimed at the top his lungs whilst Hilda giggled devilishly to herself. “There will be repercussions for this, I can promise you that! Hearings, fines, returns. You will never get work again in this city for such a gross misuse of our resources and trust.”

   “Whatever you say, glasses.” Hilda shrugged.

   The door to the studio jangled and Ignatz could have jumped out of his skin. He watched with a slack jaw as the most beautiful young woman walked into the studio. She was slender and pure with hair of blue to rival that of the morning sky and eyes of a winter grey. Her demure presence would be enough to capture the attention of anyone, not just Ignatz. However, it was the bronze jewellery that she bedecked herself with that most caught Ignatz’s curiosity as such accessories were most certainly would have been made by Hilda.

   “Is everything alright, Hilda?” asked Marianne. “I thought I heard a commotion.”

   “It's alright, Ignatz was just scolding me for wasting governmental money but its no skin off my back.” Hildra shrugged.

   Marianne gave Hilda a solemn glare, it seemed she thought that was a bad idea as well. At least the pause in conversation gave Ignatz time to recover from seeing such a striking woman in a place - and time - like this.

   “Hello, ma’am, I don’t believe we’ve met before…” Ignatz said and he had the strangest inkling that he had seen her face somewhere before, stranger still, not in a person but perhaps in a drawing or in something else similarly arcane.

   “Ignatz, you rude little man,” Hilda scolded him now, hands on her hips, “this is my partner, we’ve been courting for about a year now.”

   “O-oh, my apologies.” Ignatz said and he decided now would be a good time to go before he further stuffed his foot in his mouth. He straightened up his coat and glared, rather ineffectually, at Hilda. “We will be sending you a very strongly worded letter quite soon, Miss Goneril,” he softened, “but I wish you the best between yourself and your beau.”

   Hilda smiled and she reached out for Marianne. Their hands entangled lovingly in one another with Hilda snuggling into the side of Marianne’s slender frame.

   “Thank you, Ignatz.” Hilda said. “For the well wishes, not the letter.”

   “Good day to you both.” Ignatz said firmly and with that, he left.

   However, Marianne still called out to him, “Have a lovely day, may the Goddess be with you.”

   Hilda chuckled to herself and she kissed Marianne’s knuckles. Marianne smiled and she felt her heart flutter. What a lovely yet peculiar sensation in her chest, she was eager for more of it. To know life beyond that of her origins as a cast of bronze.

   “I love you.” Marianna whispered.

   “I love you too.” Hilda replied to her.

   Hilda was still holding Marianne’s hands and she had marvellous hands as an artisan, Marianne thought. They were hands firmer than those of a statue;s but it further assured Marianne that she was in the company of a very capable woman to love and be loved by. Truly, by the Goddess, a mere statue could not be more blessed to have an artist as her lover and creator, Marianne found herself thinking as she kissed a grateful kiss onto Hilda’s loving mouth.

[iwantitiwriteit]

Love Lockdown - Part 2

Big Girl With a Brave Face

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Summary: You brace yourself for your FaceTime with Chris.

Warnings: Angst, Pandemic backdrop, Profanity

Notes: More heart strumming feels! Read the previous part! Gonna try and put these up on Monday’s starting next week 8/10, along with In My Feelings Monday™, when my asks will be open for all your romantic musings! Let’s get sweet and sappy y’all! I know you wanna 🥰 

The sun shines down, a crisp wind whisking by you every so often; applause for your hard work in the garden. You found a circadian rhythm. Grasp, pull, dump. Grasp, pull, dump. It afforded you an opportunity to get lost in thought… and memory. 

You just don’t get it, do you?

Baby, I want to!

Why didn’t you say anything?

Would it have mattered?

I think we can both agree we need the space…

We need to talk…

I love you.

I love you too.

“Are you okay Aunty?” Iris’ innocent voice drifts into your trance but doesn’t break it completely.

You absentmindedly respond. “Uh huh. Why do you ask?”

“Probably ‘cos you're pulling at those weeds so ferociously I think you might’ve got a few good plants,” Ines answers for her younger sister, the teenage ‘tude snapping you to reality.

You assess your handiwork and sure enough, in your pile of weeds, some good plants lie there with them, undeservedly plucked from the earth. “Oh, my bad,” you sheepishly apologize.

“It’s okay. The only difference between a weed and a flower is judgment. Here,” Ines shuffles over to your spot. 

“Ines, you’re wise beyond your years, you know that?” You stand up, placing your palms on your lower back, arching and stretching in a moment of respite. Looking over your nieces tending to the greenery you botched, their youthful vigor bring a genuine smile to your face. Those have been few and far in between these days. 

“I know, right? Could you tell my mom for me?” she kids, making you laugh. “It couldn’t have been that long since it was you and Mama doing this,” Ines smirks at you briefly before refocusing on rerooting.

You chuckle, “Ha! Feels like a lifetime ago. But, yeah, it really hasn’t been that long. Guess I just kinda lost touch.”

“Do you miss it? Do you miss being here?” Iris asks. 

“Umm… honestly?” The both of them look up at you, eyes wide and expectant. “I thought I didn’t. L.A. can be blinding in that way. But now that I’m here, I feel a little more… myself. Not to mention that I’ve missed you girls soo much! C’mere!”

A niece under each arm, hugging your middle tightly, you can feel how much they’ve missed you as well. You want to be a better aunt to them. Your love for your family is as expansive as the family farm you marvel at in front of you. Acres of green going beyond the quaint garden near the house, with the barn just behind the rustic office and rec building where the farmers are currently gathered for lunch just a few feet away. But your feelings were much like half your sister’s employees as of late; they didn’t show, especially in crisis.

Through one of the windows, you catch sight of a familiar profile; hand to his temple pressing deep into his smooth, mahogany skin, thick, dark brows knitted together in concentration, plump lips puckered as he writes furiously, occasionally taking a bite of his sandwich. He must feel your eyes because he looks up to meet them, breaking focus from his working lunch. The hand that was to his temple is now raised for a tentative wave, just as the corner of his mouth is raised for a beautiful, sweet smile. 

Your shoulders tense, your wave is curt, and your smile is barely there. You avert your eyes not wanting to see the effect of your abrupt actions. 

“I know Keith is glad you’re back, too.” You look down to see Iris looking up at you, her 10 year old face contorted into her best suggestive look. 

Ines rolls her eyes at her sister’s antics, “Oh, stop it! She’s already got the most perfect, dreamy boyfriend, remember?”

“Well, I’ve never met him. Have you? How do we know if he’s even real?”

“She’s got a point. Why haven’t we met him yet?”

“If he thinks he's too good to come down south, meet your family, let me tell you something Aunty, that’s not the kind of man you should be with.”

“I don’t think Aunty had ‘take dating advice from a child’ on her quarantine to-do list. Maybe he’s just busy; he is a movie star— correction— a superhero! Superhero equals stable income, stable income means husband material. Simple math.”

“Well, Keith has a stable and would never be too busy for her!”

“Keith runs a stable… a horse stable. Not exactly a selling point, right Aunty?”

“Aunty, tell her she’s wrong!”

The girls get to bickering and you wipe your forehead, not too sure if it’s from the heat or the interrogation you’re enduring. You check your watch. 1:39 pm.

“Shit!” Your exclamation silences your nieces as they whip their heads towards you. “Sorry ladies,” you offer an apologetic smile for the obscenity. “I, uh, gotta get ready for a call. Let’s turn it in early, yeah?” They race in the house without a second thought, and you trail behind them.

You remove your shoes in the mud room, then stalk down the hall toward the main part of the house. You wave to your sister as you pass her home office where she’s pacing, busy on the phone, swamped in paperwork. She waves you over with a confused face and shrugs as she sees her girls buzzing around.

You go to lean in the door jamb of her office as she asks, “What brings y’all inside so early? Wasn’t expecting you to be back in for another couple hours.”

“I have that FaceTime call at 2 I gotta get ready for, remember?”

“Right, right�� remind me again. It’s for a writing gig?” she asks, sifting through her mountain of papers, as distracted as she was this morning when you told her your afternoon plans.

“Uh, no. It’s um, with… Chris,” your voice trails off with each word.

Your sister whips her head around, interest now piqued. “Really? That’s good, right?”

You shrug and sigh, indifference in your expression, “It’s, y'know… whatever, Mina.”

Wilhelmina furrows her brows, “What’s wrong?” Before you could contemplate an excuse, she puts a finger up to you, “Yes, thank you, I’m trying to get in touch with…” she answers to the person on the other line.

Your watch buzzes with your 15 minute reminder for your FaceTime with Chris. “I gotta go,” you tell your sister, before turning to head upstairs. The ascension to the second level feels like a death march, the impending doom of your relationship finally setting in. Each step feels increasingly weighted. Once at the top of the staircase, you pinch the bridge of your nose as if that will alleviate your anxieties. 

“Let’s get you ready,” Wilhelmina’s maternal voice drifts to you as she comes up the stairs, melting your nerves a little. She shoots you a pity smile before ushering you into your guest room, where you make a B-line for the bathroom.

You take your time and delicately wash away the grime and sweat from your face. It’s like a Neutrogena commercial, the way you come up from the sink, staring yourself in the mirror. You take note of the creases in your forehead caused by your tense brows, the pain in your eyes, your overall sullen expression. And this feeling. This feeling is like being suspended mid-air, knowing the dreadful drop was any minute now.

You know very well who is in control of the drop. You just don’t know when you gave up that control to him. The only thing you can do now is go with grace. In an effort to have some sense of control, you did what anyone in your situation would do: You turned to Google.

“what to do when your boyfriend is about to break up with you” is what you typed into the search engine this morning. You felt like a teenager. Young and dumb. Like you’d never been in a relationship before. Like you’d never been broken up with before. None of this is new. And yet, it is. You hadn’t been here before. You hadn’t known this feeling before.

The feeling of knowing the one to make the dreadful drop happen is the same one that you love more than you knew was even possible, and damn did it hurt like hell. But could it have hurt more than knowing you’re the one that brought him to this point? Especially when you know these deep feelings are requited? The love is requited.

Who knows. You just file these feelings away for later in the hopes that it’ll inspire your pen. Right now it’s time to put on a brave face. You’ve gotten so good at it.

“So, what brought this on?” Wilhelmina inquiries after a few minutes of you lollygagging in front of the bathroom mirror.

“Oh, umm… well, he called last night. It was the first time we talked since—”

“You got here.” 

“Yeah, but who’s counting,” your deadpan earns you a disapproving look from your sister. You’ve learned to ignore it. You check the time. 5 til. “Ugh, I don’t have time to pretty myself up. Breakups are ugly anyways; guess I’ll have to be, too,” you joke, leaving Whilelmina bewildered.

“Wait, what? You’re dumping him? I know it’s tough, trust me, I get it, but—”

“No... he’s gonna dump me,” you correct her.

“What would make you think that?”

“I don’t know, maybe cos he said ‘we need to talk… for real’,” you mock his deep voice; it’s how you read his text last night in your head, “and we all know what that means…”

“Hold up, it doesn’t necessarily mean that!”

“C’mon Mina! It’s textbook breakup prep!”

“Maybe for a teenager, but he’s a grown ass man. If he says he wants to talk, he probably just wants to talk.”

“Yeah, about dumping you…” Ines mumbles under her breath from the doorway. Wilhelmina stares daggers into her mouthy daughter, and she shrinks away to mind her business.

You continue to get ready, mainly focusing on laying your edges before finding a new shirt. “So, why would he suggest we quarantine separately knowing we had issues we were working on?” you debate your sister.

“Because like he said: you need some space. Totally normal for maintaining a healthy relationship.”

“Is it though? Cos when I say “I need space”, I’m thinking about making an exit. And that’s on a good, non-pandemic day. Hell, our issues alone would make me bow out. Now you add this stressful shit on top?”

“Then why haven’t you?”

Her simple question makes you stop in tracks, your brave face wavering for just a moment. “B-Because— it doesn’t matter. He’s ending things with me, in,” you check the time, “3 minutes. And I don’t blame him! I’ve been a mess lately! An emotional wreck lately! You should’ve heard me last night, it was gross!”

Wilhelmina starts to chuckle at your dramatics, but you can tell she’s laughing at you, not with you. “What’s so funny?”

“Sweetheart, you’d have to show emotions to be an emotional wreck. I think you skipped a few steps.”

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes as you peel off your sweaty shirt and toss it in the laundry basket. You take your wash cloth to dab your underarms before putting on a nicer top. A proper shower will have to wait til later.

“I’ll have you know that I do, in fact, have emotions. I just channel them into my writing, to avoid sapping them all over any- and everyone… like some people I know,” you quirk your brow and tilt your head in Wilhelmina‘s direction.

“Girl, whatever! From what you told me, Chris is as much a romantic as I am, maybe even more so. You don’t hate it as much as you let on. Just admit it.”

You slowly turn away from Wilhelmina to primp yourself in the full length mirror. She follows you, glaring at you in hopes she will break you down. You decide to throw her a bone.

“Last night, I told him how we should’ve been together right now. There was even a quiver in my voice because I do really, really miss him. It was all so, so...” Your sister’s hands are clutching her chest, eyes glazed like she was watching a romcom. She’d finally gotten through to you. “… so pathetic.” Or so she’d thought. The sound of frustration that came from her amused you greatly, your eyes now glazed from crying of laughter. 

“See, that’s what the hell I'm talking about! If he brings emotion— vulnerability— out of you, why do you resist? He’s worth keeping around, sis. I would think you: an artist, a writer for god’s sakes, would find some value in that.”

You stare straight ahead, fixing imaginary stray curls in your hair, and avoiding eye contact with Wilhelmina. She awaits your response, brows raised, neck craned toward you, hands below her chest with palms up, as if to say ‘Sooo...???’. You wondered how long she’d stay like that before you said something. “Are you done?”

Your sister sighs, and it’s quickly followed by ringing from your laptop. You both look in its direction, then at each other. The moment you’d been bracing for all day is here. You hesitantly move towards the chair at your desk where your laptop is sat. 

“I’ll leave you to it,” Wilhelmina says before excusing herself. You almost didn’t want her to go. But you’ve got to be a big girl with a brave face.

“One last thing?” you twist in your chair to look at her in your doorway, “I know who made you believe that big girls don’t cry, but it’s bullshit. It’s good to feel. It’s okay to show it sometimes, too. Especially with the ones who showed and proved they won’t judge you for it,” she motions to your still ringing computer before closing your door.

You turn back to your desk, swallowing thickly. Here goes. You answer the call and Chris’ smiling face fills your screen. That beautiful face that’s worth doing right by.

“Hey baby! For a second there, I thought you wouldn’t answer,” he nervously chuckles. 

You smile at him but it doesn’t reach your eyes. He senses your apprehension. Even through a screen, he’s perceptive. Chris starts to small talk, rambling about work and the weather, intending to ease your guard down before getting to the tough stuff. But it’s absolutely painful pretending to be strangers. 

“Chris?”

“Yes honey?”

“I don’t wanna do this with you.”

Part 3

[edendaphne]

“Discordant Sonata”- Ch. 15

Have some quarantine reading material!!

>>Read it here on Ao3<< >>Read it here on Wattpad<< 

CHAPTER 15: BRAVURA

Music glossary:       Bravura - (from Italian “bravery/spirit”) Style of music in which the performer plays boldly, requiring exceptional agility and technical skill in execution.

 (Mood music: “For the Love of a Princess” - James Horner )

Sunday Evening

Marinette knocked on the guest bedroom door, or rather, on Chat Noir’s bedroom door, as it had now officially become.

“Come in! It’s open,” she heard from the other side.

Marinette’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Odd, she thought. For someone who was supposed to be guarding a secret identity at all costs, one would think that Chat would always keep the door locked. First the “bathroom incident” and now this? She wondered what his aversion to locked doors was all about.

Marinette peeked her head into the room and saw him at his desk, writing in a notebook.

“Hey Kitt–uhh, Chat Noir, dinner will be ready in a minute. Would you care to join us?”

Chat’s cat ears perked up. “I’d love to! Thanks! I’ll help set the table in a sec.”

“What are you up to?” she asked, sitting at the edge of his bed.

Chat swiveled his chair around to face her. “Oh, it’s...” he grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck to ease the stiffness there. “I was doing some calculations, figuring out a monthly budget and that kind of thing. Trying to figure out how much all my bills will cost.”

“Me-owch,” Marinette cringed. “Sounds suuuuper fun.”

“Yeah, definitely,” he replied with matching sarcasm. “It’s actually been more complicated than I thought.”

“How so?” she asked.

He let out a long sigh. “Well… this is gonna sound weird, but my father as a civilian is, uh… pretty well-known. There’s a lot of people who would recognize me. Any potential employers would be getting in contact with him, asking him questions, or even give him an idea of where to find me. So I can’t apply to jobs as my normal self.” He ran his gloved hand through his hair in exasperation. “But where could I possibly get a job as ‘Chat Noir’?? ‘He’ can’t start a bank account, has no birth certificate, driver’s license, address, phone number. I’d have to get hired under the table, but I might run into some shady people. They might take advantage of the situation, and there’d be nothing I could do to contest them. Or they might try to use me to get free advertisement, and then my father would know where to find me anyway. Ugh, it’s all just a mess,” he groaned. “Anyway, thanks for letting me vent. I’m sure I’ll figure something out, so don’t worry.”

Marinette hummed, thinking. “Well, actually…” she said, tapping her chin. “Since the school year’s starting up again, a couple of our full-timers are switching to part-time to accommodate their university schedules; so the bakery will need some extra help. Obviously you wouldn’t be able to work at the front of the store, attending to customers and whatnot. But there’s still cleaning, washing, and heavy lifting that needs to be done behind the scenes. So if that sounds alright with you, we can talk to my parents about it. I’m sure they’d be happy to have you aboard.”

“Really??” Chat’s head shot up and he chirped excitedly, accidentally dropping his pen in the process. “Th-that would be great! I’ll work really hard, promise! Are you sure it would be okay?”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll say yes! My mom’s already taken quite a liking to you; she’s always talking about how polite and sweet you are.” Chat’s ears perked up and his cheeks reddened upon hearing this, which she found much too adorable. “And I’m sure my dad’s slowly coming around; I can tell, even though he’s stubborn.” She reached over and squeezed his hands. “I’ll put in a good word for you,” she said with a wink.

“You will?!” he replied with a laugh. “Best job reference ever!!” He hopped out of his chair, then bent over and wrapped her up into a tight hug. “You’re the best, Marinette. Seriously.”

She shook off her initial surprise and squeezed back, smiling wide.

“Anything for a friend.”

Dinnertime went over even better than Marinette had hoped. When the subject of a job was broached, Marinette’s mother took to the idea immediately and, citing the need for some extra muscle, eventually managed to win over her father.

Thus, they hired Chat Noir on the spot for part-time work, adding a few extra household chores in lieu of charging him rent. Marinette could hardly contain herself when she saw Chat’s face as he heard that; he looked like he’d won the lottery. And if anyone else had noticed how his eyes got misty and his voice began to quiver as he thanked them, nobody had mentioned it.

After dinner, Marinette invited Chat Noir upstairs to her bedroom, saying she needed help picking out the perfect outfit for her first day back to school. Truth be told, she really did need to choose an outfit; but it was mostly an excuse to hang out with him and serve as a distraction from his stressful circumstances.

Behind his cheerful smile and never ending stream of jokes, he always carried such a lonesome air about him. She’d never noticed it until that first night; the night they danced during the ballroom akuma attack. Or rather, she’d never allowed herself to open up to the possibility that he might be suffering. It would have made fighting him much more difficult had she known.

But as they swayed to the music that night, she could feel the melancholy in his voice, how it seemed to be yearning for more, and she couldn’t ignore it anymore.

It was shocking to her; mind-blowing, even. Not the same shock as one might get from a slap in the face, but rather like she’d woken up from a deep sleep. And yet, even then, she never could have anticipated how things would’ve unraveled from that day forward. They had come a long way, and there was still much more ahead of them.

In any case, he was sure to appreciate an evening goofing around with his new roommate, to get his mind off of both his superhero problems and his civilian worries.

“So, what do you think?” she asked as she peered into her closet. “Classy? Trendy? Girly? Vintage? Boho chic?”

Chat furrowed his brows, cocking his head in uncertainty. “I dunno… You’d look great in anything! Just close your eyes and grab something, and voila!”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “What if I grab my fuzzy, pink bathrobe?”

“You’d look great in that too! ‘Comfy chic’, the newest trend on all the cat- walks!” he grinned cheekily.

She rolled her eyes. “Oh come on, you dork, be serious! I wanna look good!”

“But you already look good!” he said, lifting his arms and motioning up and down her entire length for emphasis. “You’d even look good in a burlap sack. I mean it! You’re really cute, Marinette! Besides, it’s not like you need to impress anybody. Everyone already loves you.”

She felt her cheeks warm up at the praise he gave so freely. “I-I… th-that’s sweet of you to say. B-but I wasn’t trying to fish for compliments or anything. I just… want to look a little extra nice. Maybe even stand out a little bit, that’s all,” she added more quietly, fiddling with the hem of her shirt.

Chat paused and forward on the chaise. “Hang on,” he said, narrowing his eyes at her. “Marinette... ARE you trying to impress someone? Someone special, maybe?”

Marinette made a startled noise that would best be described as a squawk and whipped back around to face the inside of her closet. “Uhh, NOPE! Nope, nope. Not at all! What makes you say that?!”

Wow, Marinette, very convincing, she groaned inwardly.

Despite her stammering and weak attempts at protesting, Chat exclaimed with a gasp, “So there IS someone!”

He hopped off the chaise towards her, trying to get a peek at her reddened face. “So who is it?? Would I know them? Are you in the same grade, or just the same school? Do they already know you like them? How did you two meet?”

Marinette let out a long screech, rushing away from the closet towards her vanity desk and plopped down on the chair, dropping her head onto the table with a small thunk.

Chat practically glided across to where she’d sat and put his hands on her shoulders, squeezing gently. “Our little Marinette has a crush on someone~!” he crooned in a sing-song voice. “That’s so romantic! You’ll invite me to your wedding, won’t you?”

Marinette let out another long, muffled groan, which only spurred him on, becoming giddy like a small child who’d been given a pile of candy.

He’s never going to stop now that he knows, is he? she bemoaned, cursing her inept, awkward self.

Foregoing any further attempts at denial, she decided to just be honest with him. After all, Alya knew about her crush, and so did her other gal friends. She could confide in Chat too; especially since they were going to be living with each other from now on. Surely there was no harm in him knowing. It’s not like he’d go around blabbing it to anyone. She knew him better than that.

She sighed heavily, not bothering to hoist up her head, which felt like it weighed as much as a boulder at the moment. “He’s a classmate,” she replied in deadpan.

“A classmate, huh?” Chat repeated, voice full of wonder. “That’s so adorable! What else can you tell me about him? Is he cute?”

“Gorgeous,” she replied, with perhaps more emphasis than she intended. “And thoughtful and gentle and kind. A little awkward and nerdy, but friendly and optimistic to a fault. He’s practically perfect. At least, perfect in all the ways that matter to me, anyhow. I’ve known him for a few years, and I’ve been in lov– I MEAN… I’ve had a crush on him pretty much since we first met.”

Sensing her shift in tone, Chat dropped all the playfulness in his voice and asked in earnest, “W-wait… D-did you say… in love?”

Marinette let out a long, pitiful whine, grabbing the hair by the sides of her head and covering her face with it like a tent, trying to hide her eternal shame.

“I can’t believe I just said that…” she moaned wretchedly, very much wishing she could shrink to the size of a mouse right now. “Can you just cataclysm me and pretend you didn’t hear that, please?”

“Wait, so that means…” Chat interrupted, his brows scrunched. “He doesn’t know how you feel about him?”

She shook her head, or rather, kind of shuffled it back and forth on the table’s surface. “I’ve always been too afraid to say anything to him. I never wanted things to become weird between us, so I’ve always just… not taken the risk. He always just kinda… seemed to need a friend more than he needed a relationship, y’know? And I didn’t want to take that away from him. From us.”

Chat paused for a moment, pondering her words. “But what if he feels the same way?” he countered. “Wouldn’t you rather get it off your chest and find out for sure?”

Marinette hesitated, turning her head sideways. “Have you ever liked someone you were too afraid to lose?” she replied quietly.

She could hear Chat’s breath hitch, but he didn’t respond. She wondered if that was something he’d been worrying about as well. He’d never confessed to Ladybug about his own crush; but was that merely due to shyness, or from not wanting to complicate their relationship and their duties as superheroes? Would he jeopardize it?

Chat was a romantic at heart; of that she was certain, judging from his taste in media and books, from their late night conversations, and especially from what Plagg had told her a few days ago.

However, despite his playful flirtatiousness towards her as Ladybug, he’d never verbally expressed any serious interest in a romantic relationship. She could only assume he wanted to keep things as friendly and professional as possible, in order to work on strengthening their relationship as a team, instead of risking a fallout.

Or, at least, that’s what she’d started to tell herself. Everything in her brain was a terrible jumble. Especially after hearing about Chat’s family situation the night before, after the akuma attack. Ladybug had finally learned about Chat’s mother, Hawkmoth’s wife, and things were way more complicated than she could have ever imagined.

Chat Noir had introduced a variable of unpredictability in her life, and she was still trying to sort out her own growing feelings towards him. Were these merely feelings of protectiveness, or was it something else? Had she been projecting her desire for Adrien onto Chat? She didn’t think so, and yet, she’d never experienced anything like this before. How could she know for sure?

Unrequited love felt awful, but at least it was fairly straightforward. Trying to figure out her thoughts and feelings when adding another person into the jumble was frustratingly confusing.

In addition, Hawkmoth’s cruel words from the akuma attack echoed in her head despite trying to dispel them countless times. They resonated within her, trying to worm their way into her brain to plant undeserving guilt and shame. Accusations of taking advantage of Chat; of blind infatuation; of festering doubts and lack of trust.

Not to mention the elephant in the room: the giant, seemingly impenetrable wall of having to hide their identities from each other, which prevented them from being able to grow closer.

Pursuing a romantic path with him right now would not be prudent.

Especially since she was still in love with Adrien.

UGH. She was in love with Adrien. Why had she allowed herself to fall for him?!? Why did he have to be so darn wonderful, so awfully talented, so ridiculously considerate?!

The uncomfortable feeling of embarrassment slithered down her spine once again, traveling all the way from her head to her toes. How could she possibly face Chat Noir now that he knew what a coward she was?

Moments passed and neither of them had broken the ice. She supposed she should be the one to do it, since she was the one that had made things awkward in the first place.

Before she could say anything, however, she felt Chat’s hands settle on her shoulders, and he gently pulled her up into a sitting position. He gazed at her reflection in the mirror, a kind smile painted on his handsome face that she couldn’t help but feel her face flush. His emerald green eyes were so piercing, so sincere, which caused a multitude of butterflies to swarm in her chest despite her having banned them.

Bringing his arms in front of her, he draped a colorful garment across her collarbones so it would cascade all the way down to her lap. Apparently she’d been too busy internally freaking out that she hadn’t even heard him rummaging around in her closet.

“How about this top?” he asked softly. “The cut of the neck will draw attention to your jawline, especially if you wear your hair down, so the sides can frame your facial features. And if you wear this necklace here-” he said as he lifted the accessory from her vanity table, “-it will emphasize your blue eyes very nicely. For bottoms, I’d either go with some dark-wash skinny jeans paired with low heels, or a skirt with a bright pattern and some close-toed flats. Keeping it simple is best, in my opinion. Clean and sophisticated.”

Wait… what?? How did he–

Marinette hadn’t even noticed her jaw had dropped until Chat closed it gently with his index finger, her teeth coming back together with a soft clink.

“You should ask him out. This mystery person,” he added. “You never know what’ll happen. He’ll either like you back, or he won’t. But at least you’ll know, and whatever happens afterwards, it’ll mean you can move on.”

She held the shirt in place with her own hands, but never broke eye contact with him through the mirror. “Would you do the same?” she asked quietly.

Chat looked away, cheeks darkening. He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed deeply. “Someday, perhaps. But… I’m not ready yet. Maybe once I become a better person. Somebody worthwhile.”

She turned around to face him, studying his expression. A weight settled uncomfortably in her gut, urging her to fix it, FIX IT!!

But fix what?! Fix it how?? She didn’t know; but she had to try regardless.

She stood up, setting the garment down on the chair, then practically stomped over to him. Chat looked a bit taken aback at how close she’d gotten, his eyes widening in confusion. She threw her arms around his torso, pulling him as close as physically possible without literally merging together. She laid her head on his chest, relishing the sound of his heart thumping in his chest.

“You dumdum. You’re already amazing. Anybody would consider themselves lucky to be loved by you.”

She felt him freeze up, unsure of what to make of this sudden and almost aggressive display of affection. But a beat later he relaxed, practically melting into her embrace and hugged back just as tightly.

He laid his own head on top of hers, a motion that still felt so comforting and so familiar; and yet she couldn’t figure it out. Whenever she would come close to making a discovery, the thought would slip away, as if by magic.

Or, come to think of it, most likely because of magic. His mannerisms and speech were so familiar, and yet she couldn’t place where she knew them from, or whom they matched up with. Chat had said that they knew each other outside of the costume, so surely that was why they felt so familiar. But the glamour of his miraculous was quite efficient in protecting his identity; therefore, despite teetering at the edge of her recognition, she still could not identify him. She supposed that was for the best, even if it was maddening.

“I wish I could believe that. I really do,” he murmured sadly, interrupting her train of thought.

She nuzzled her head into him. “Stop being so hard on yourself. Life doesn’t revolve around achievements or some arbitrary measurement of greatness. Being you is enough.”

“I... don’t really know how to stop thinking that way, to be honest,” he said with a shrug.

Marinette let go of him and took a small step back, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Well, it’s too bad you don’t have a choice, then. ‘Cause from now on, you’re officially enrolled in the Dupain-Cheng self-esteem boot camp, where you learn to be nice to yourself… or else, I’ll kick your ass!” she said, poking him lightly on the chest.

His eyes popped open for a moment, then he threw his head back and laughed. “I believe it!” he said, squeezing his arms around her once again. “I’ll do my best to meet your expectations and avoid all the ass-kicking, sensei! Bring on Du PAIN!”

She let out a snort and giggled, looking up at him from her lower height.

Her gaze softened once again, then added, “By the way... thanks for your help, and for your advice, Minou.”

Chat chuckled at the term of endearment, and Marinette’s brain froze.

How could she forget?? Again. She wasn’t Ladybug right now. Marinette didn’t have nicknames for Chat.

Before she could backpedal, Chat leaned down to kiss her forehead, then replied, “Anytime, Mari.”

She relaxed again and gave him one last squeeze, unable to contain a giant, satisfied grin.

She released him so she could return to the task of getting ready for school tomorrow. She asked, “Will it really be okay for you to go to school? Won’t it be risky, since your father will know where you are?”

Chat let out a thoughtful hum. “He’s a pretty powerful person, but even he can’t walk into the school and drag me out of there in front of everyone. I should be okay, as long as I’m always around other people.”

“Well… if you say so,” she said, crinkling her eyebrows. “You’ve got my cell phone number, so call me if anything ever pops up and I’ll be there in a jiffy, no matter where you are.”

Chat smiled at her fondly. “Thank you.”

She smiled back. “Come on. Let’s go watch a movie downstairs. It’s our last day to be certified couch potatoes and I’m not gonna pass it up.”

Chat winked. “Aye aye, Captain Spud! Lead the way!”

(Mood music: “The Chairman’s Waltz” - John Williams (Memoirs of a Geisha OST)

Monday Morning

Chat Noir landed on the roof of the school without a sound, eyes darting around the perimeter to verify that no one was present at this hour. Upon seeing that the coast was clear, he slinked towards the door that led inside the building.

He tried the doorknob. Locked, as expected. He detransformed, and without a word, Plagg phased through the door. It clicked, then Adrien slipped inside.

Heart thumping, he shifted his backpack and continued down the rooftop stairwell until he reached a hallway. It was empty, although that didn’t do much for his nerves. Getting caught on campus before the school opened would mean getting asked questions he would rather not have to answer.

Adrien wasn’t a rule-breaker. He was courteous, mild-mannered, and above all, obedient. He did things by the book. Or, at least... he did as Adrien . Chat Noir was another story altogether.

Trying to shake off his jitters, Adrien took a deep breath and tried to summon the playful part of him that enjoyed more mischievous types of activities.

There wasn’t much for him to do for the next couple of hours but to wait until people slowly trickled into the school. He decided to occupy himself by organizing his locker, so he stepped out into the common area from the dark hallway and carefully crept to the locker rooms downstairs.

As it turned out, it was a good thing he checked it before anyone was around, for the loud gasp he let out as he discovered its contents would have surely attracted the attention of the entire room.

Inside the locker was a duffel bag full of belongings– his belongings: his passport and birth certificate, his wallet, some clothes, his favorite blue scarf, a photograph of his mother; school supplies and stationary, a brand new laptop, and an indistinct burner phone.

There was no written note, no card, no name left behind. The only identifier provided was a picture of an black and red butterfly on it.

A butterfly? Surely this couldn’t be a gift from Gabriel Agreste. He’d never be this thoughtful, not in a million years.

He studied the picture, flipping it over for more clues, and found some small text on the back.

“Scarlet Peacock Butterfly”, the caption said. “A vivid red and black butterfly that ostensibly poses as another toxic species in order to deceive predators.”

Adrien gasped.

A fake.

Could it be…?

Adrien’s fingers trembled as he picked up the phone. It was an older model flip phone. He opened it.

It had a single phone number saved in its contacts.

He selected the number, fingertip hovering over the “call” button. With a shaky breath, he pressed it. And waited.

A few agonizingly long seconds passed. Then the ringing stopped; someone had picked up.

Adrien’s breath hitched and he gulped. He couldn’t help the crack in his voice as he whispered hesitantly into the phone.

“...Nathalie?”

(Mood Music: “L’Indifference” - Café Accordion Orchestra)

For once, Marinette Dupain-Cheng managed to make it to school on time, having set her alarm for an earlier time just to make sure. Tardiness always seemed to be her calling card, but she was determined to not let this happen today; not after all her preparations from the night before.

And so she walked into her first class, happy to see a room full of (mostly) friendly faces. Alya smiled at her from her desk across the room, waving her over enthusiastically. Marinette returned the smile and headed towards her.

She gave a wide berth to Lila and their teacher, who stood by the door. The new teacher listened, enraptured, about the stylish Italian girl’s most recent trip to the Malagasy islands and how she single-handedly founded a lemur rescue organization. Marinette fought the urge to roll her eyes and quietly passed them by, without challenging the validity of her claims.

Not today, she told herself. Not on the first day of school.

On her way towards her best friend, Marinette also walked past Chloe Bourgeois, her former bully. They made eye contact and gave each other a brief nod.

“Chloe,” Marinette greeted her plainly.

“Dupain-Cheng,” Chloe acknowledged in return, then turned her full attention back to her phone, vigorously texting someone with a dragon profile picture.

Marinette couldn’t quite call Chloe her friend, though they were definitely more than just acquaintances. They’d come to a sort of unspoken truce a couple of years back. They’d both done some growing up these past few years, and for that, Marinette was grateful. Especially since this arrangement made it possible for them to remain mutual friends with Adrien.

Marinette went up the steps to where her best friend sat, and they greeted each other with a hug.

“Hey, Alya! No Nino?”

“Nah, looks like we only have three classes together this year, bummer.” Alya shrugged. “But that means I get to sit next to my Mari-bean!”

Marinette noticed a markedly cheery-looking Adrien entering the classroom, only to be stopped by Lila at the door, who flipped her hair theatrically and batted her exaggeratedly long (and most likely false, hmmph!) eyelashes at him.

She decided to ignore it and turned around to fully face her wavy-haired friend. “So, how was your weekend? Did you and your aforementioned husbando do anything fun?” she asked with a knowing smile.

Alya’s cheeks darkened, but she tried to cover up her blushing by pretending to adjust her hair. “Well, we did get ahold of the new Super Pinguino III. You’ll have to play it sometime and try to beat our high score.”

Marinette giggled. “I dunno, that might be the one game where I’ll never be able to beat you.”

“Well, we’ll just have to see about that,” she gave her a wide smile in return. She exclaimed (rather loudly even by her standards), “By the way, Marinette! Your outfit looks AMAZING! Don’t you think so too, Adrien?”

Marinette’s eyes widened and she whipped around to realize Adrien was headed their way. Her face felt like she was sticking it inside a furnace, and suddenly she felt quite naked, wanting nothing more than to hide in a dark corner somewhere rather than display the outfit she’d meticulously chosen the night before. What if it was too much? What if she was overdressed? What if everyone could tell she was trying too hard? What if it was way too last-season and not avant-garde enough? Or what if it was too avant-garde and she should have dressed more conservatively?! What if–

Adrien’s eyes met hers and he gave her the brightest, broadest, most radiant smile, so stunning it should be illegal, so resplendent that it caused her brain to suddenly fizzle.

“Absolutely! You look beautiful, Marinette,” he said, his voice so earnest and sincere that Marinette felt she might combust on the spot.

Marinette wasn’t sure how long she’d been standing there, mouth agape, feeling like her feet were no longer touching the ground, when Alya nudged her with her elbow, coaxing her to reply.

And reply she did. Or at least, she tried; for only for a brief noise somewhere between a croak and a squeak managed to emerge from her throat.

“Uhh, I think Marinette means ‘Thank you,” Alya replied helpfully.

Marinette nodded enthusiastically. “Y-YES!! That’s right!! Th-thank you, Adrien!” she stammered, forcing the air out of her lungs.

Adrien beamed at her. “It’s great to see you guys again. I’m really glad we have our first class together this year. It’ll be a great way to start off the day.”

He waved goodbye to them, then walked to sit at the empty seat next to Chloe, who greeted him with a loud, happy squeal and friendly cheek kisses, then proceeded to talk rapidly about a subject way too complex for Marinette’s current brain-dead state of gleeful stupefaction.

And most definitely too dumbstruck to notice the daggers Lila was glaring at her from across the room.

(Mood Music: “Closer Than Sisters” - Abel Korzeniowski )

Marinette’s mind managed to rejoin her body sometime around halfway through their first period, and the remainder of her classes went by without a hitch. There was a lot of chatter and gossiping about Ladybug and Chat Noir, and whether they were actually working together or if it was some sort of elaborate publicity stunt. Conspiracy theories abounded, but for the most part it was merely curious conjecture. Ladybug had always worked alone, so what would this mean for the city? Would she finally defeat Hawkmoth now that she was no longer outnumbered?

Alya, of course, was utterly buzzing with excitement about these recent developments. Marinette wasn’t quite sure she’d be able to stand all her wild speculations and hypothetical questions; so it was both a shame and a relief that they only had two classes together this school year.

Despite the mental toll that hearing all these conjectures took on her, Marinette was still in high spirits by her last class of the day.

Or so she’d thought, until her absolute favorite classmate made her way over to her desk, giving her a sickly saccharine smile that would put high fructose corn syrup to shame.

“Hi, Marinette,” she lilted in a hollow sing-song voice.

Marinette brought out her phone and pretended to look busy. “Hello, Lila.”

“Did you have a nice summer?” Lila asked.

As if you care, she thought. “It was peachy,” Marinette replied curtly.

Lila pouted. “You don’t sound too happy. I don’t suppose you’ve already heard?”

Marinette sighed. Might as well play along. “Heard what, Lila?”

Lila leaned into her personal space, which made unpleasant goosebumps rise on the back of Marinette’s neck. “Well, I don't suppose you and Adrien are close enough friends that he’s told you all about his secret girlfriend, right?” she said more quietly.

Marinette’s brain screeched to a halt, but she forced herself to keep typing into her phone. “And I suppose he's told you?”

Lila giggled coyly. “Oh, well, I’m not one to blab secrets around, but the poor dear’s just not very good at hiding those hickeys. A scarf and concealer can only do so much, you know.”

Marinette felt sick to her stomach, but she refused to indulge Lila into thinking that she actually believed her.

“Go away, Lila,” she hissed through gritted teeth.

“Don’t believe me? I can prove it-” she replied, with that false cheerfulness that always carried a secret smugness to it. “-as soon as he walks through the door. He’s told me his schedule, you know… We really are very good friends, he and I.” She lifted her head to look around. “Ah, there he is.”

Adrien walked into the classroom with Kim, joking and laughing together.

Lila waved them over, and Adrien smiled as they both walked towards them.

“Adrien, I was just talking to Marinette about our plans for the school year. What does your modeling schedule look like?” she asked, as she thumbed the fabric of his scarf. “This is the year before we graduate. Is your father going to ease up on the photo shoots? I do so remember how very busy you were last year,” she lamented with another fake pout.

Adrien replied, his voice harboring a tinge of nervousness as she ran her hands up and down the length of his scarf, “Uh, actually, I won’t be- uh, modeling. This year. To… prepare for university exams and whatnot.”

“No modeling gigs, you say? That’s awfully kind of him,” she replied sweetly, as she slowly pulled back and forth on the two sides of the scarf like a seesaw. “Letting you focus on your studies and whatnot.”

Before he could reply, Lila tripped sideways with a dainty yelp, yanking the scarf along with her, and she fell towards him. Adrien caught her and she wrapped her arms around his neck securely, the scarf falling onto the ground, forgotten by all.

All except for Marinette, of course.

“Lila, are you alright?” Kim cried, and Adrien weakly echoed the question.

“Oh… clumsy me… I’m still getting used to these new shoes. I haven’t quite broken them in yet, you see,” she remarked as he helped her up. “I mostly wore combat boots over the summer while helping build schools in Bali for impoverished children, so I guess you could say I’ve gotten out of the habit of wearing heels.”

Marinette got out of her seat to retrieve the fallen blue scarf. The scarf that she had made for him almost four years ago for his birthday. Lila’s tugging had rubbed the fabric against Adrien’s neck, and the center was stained with make-up the same tone as his skin. She gulped heavily, then looked up at him.

And there they were, peppered all over his neck: various small bruises below the sides of his jawline, barely noticeable, but still visible if you looked closely.

“Umm, here,” Marinette said numbly as she handed him back the scarf. His hesitant eyes met hers, and he looked guilty, as if all his secrets had been laid bare for her to see.

“Thank you,” he said, almost too soft for her to hear.

“Why, Adrien!” Lila said, feigning secrecy but still speaking louder than she should have been, had that been the case. “I know you said you didn’t have to model anymore, but you really ought to tell your girlfriend to take it easy when you guys make out.”

Adrien sounded genuinely puzzled. “Wait… Girlfriend? What are you talking about?”

Kim’s features scrunched up in confusion. His eyes traveled towards where Lila was looking, then his face lit up with excitement. “Dude, you got a girlfriend?? That’s amazing, congrats! When were you gonna tell us??”

“Huh? I don’t have–” Adrien tried to interject.

“Oh, no! I’m so sorry Adrien,” Lila pretended to realize she’d said too much. “I didn’t know you wanted to keep it a secret. How silly of me! Surely your father would take away your extra free time if he knew you were spending it with a girl instead of studying.”

Kim pumped his arms excitedly. “Don’t worry, bro! We can totally keep a secret! Right, Marinette?”

Marinette smiled weakly, trying her best to look cooperative, and nodded.

“So, tell us about her, Adrien! Tell us about this girl you love so much,” Lila prodded.

Adrien’s cheeks turned bright red. “W-well, she’s not actually my girlfriend, b-but–”

Kim waggled his eyebrows. “But does she want to be?” he asked playfully.

Adrien laughed, voice high and skittish, “Uhh, I-I don’t know… Umm– w-we’ll see what happens. I-I want to take things slow.”

“Do you like her?”

Adrien’s head whipped around. It was Marinette who’d asked the question, her voice soft and curious.

Her eyes searched his, sincerely seeking the knowledge she both yearned and dreaded to hear. Her heart clenched painfully in her chest, knowing that his answer could change everything.

And yet, she needed to know.

Adrien’s face softened, the corners of his mouth crinkling with the ghost of a smile, and his cheeks gained a more subdued shade of pink, which contrasted with the embarrassed shade of red he’d worn earlier.

“A lot,” he replied breathily, like a wistful sigh, like he’d rather be with his loved one than anywhere else in the world.

Marinette swallowed heavily, and she forced herself to smile. “I’m happy for you,” she said as earnestly as she could manage.

After all, Adrien’s happiness was always paramount. No matter the source.

Their conversation was cut short by the sound of the bell, and the group scattered into the surrounding seats. Lila gave Marinette one last self-satisfied smile before walking away; not that Marinette even noticed. Her body felt too numb, too limp, too weary to see or care. All she could see in her mind’s eye was the way Adrien’s eyes lit up when he talked about the person he cared for. It had been brief, but it had been enough. She’d seen it. She knew now.

Adrien Agreste was in love.

(Mood Music: “No One Knows Who I Am” - (Jekyll & Hyde, the musical) Frank Wildhorn)

The last period of the day went by more sluggishly than any other she’d ever experienced in her life. Marinette’s mind replayed that conversation a seemingly infinite amount of times by the time the bell rang and it was time to go home. She lethargically packed up her belongings and left the classroom.

Before she reached the locker room, however, a hand gently tapped her on the shoulder, and she turned around.

It was Adrien. Of course. It just had to be him.

He meekly asked if he could talk to her in private. She agreed. They stepped into an emptied room, and he looked around to make sure no one else was present.

“I’m… sorry about the awkwardness from before, Mari,” he muttered uneasily.

“It’s okay, I’m just sorry you got put on the spot,” she replied, twisting her hands together, her shoulders tense with discomfort.

He seemed to squirm a bit himself as he continued, “D-did… Did you see…?” He gestured towards his scarf.

Marinette froze and her gaze dropped to the ground. She couldn’t get herself to speak, so she nodded.

Adrien took a deep breath. “W-would it be too much trouble if I asked you to not tell anyone? Things could get really difficult for me if- if people were to find out.”

Marinette’s head bobbed up and down quickly. “I-it’s okay! I won’t say anything! I-I don’t want to get you into trouble. Anytime you need help, I’ll be here.”

Before she knew it, she was being pulled into a brief hug. She willed her arms to hug him back, although she couldn’t really feel her body right now.

Adrien let go of her and put his hands on her shoulders in reassurance. “I promise everything is going to be okay. Everything is fine now. Trust me. Thank you, Marinette.”

Marinette’s mouth smiled back, and she heard her own voice say, “Anytime.”

Adrien thanked her again, and opened the door to leave. “See ya tomorrow.”

“S-see you,” she called back.

The door closed behind him, and Marinette was left alone. Everything felt like it was steeped in a thick haze. As if she was stranded in a vast fog with no discernable way to go. She felt hollow, yet heavy, which didn’t make a single bit of sense. A gaping, empty hole where her chest was, ripped away suddenly and without warning.

Is this... is this what heartbreak feels like?

Chat landed on Marinette’s balcony and knocked on the hatch five times, as they’d previously agreed. He listened for any of the code phrases or sounds that they’d gone over and practiced. There was no answer, which could only mean that she wasn’t home yet. However, since the latch was always unlocked for him now that they were roommates, he had permission to enter.

He felt pretty silly wearing a backpack as Chat Noir, so he didn’t dally in her bedroom, and instead went to drop it off in his own room.

Chat wondered what could be going through Marinette’s head after she saw his bruising. Had she figured out that Gabriel was abusive? She’d agreed to trust him, so maybe she believed he’d been able to work out his home situation. Did she think he still lived back at the mansion?

He plopped face down on the sofa. UGH, this all sucked. He didn’t want to lie to her, but he couldn’t tell her the truth, either. She was the nicest girl, and all he’d been doing lately was be dishonest with her. Not without reason, but still. He felt horrible about it.

And she’d looked so out of it at the end of school. He wondered what might have happened to her, since she’d seemed in such high spirits at the beginning of the school day. And what was that weirdness with Lila all about?

He didn’t have to wonder long, because a few moments later, his cat ears perked up as he heard footsteps that led to the front door. He sat up and turned around, excitedly awaiting her arrival.

Marinette opened the door and entered the living area. She closed the door and silently set her backpack down. He got up to greet her, but something was wrong. Her whole aura was different. Even in the dim late afternoon light, Chat could see the weariness in her expression, the sadness in her posture.

“Mari…?”

Several long strides later and he was there, in front of her, holding her by the arms.

“Mari, what happened?!” he asked more urgently. “Are you okay??”

She looked up at him, her glassy blue eyes becoming damp. Then she crashed into him, gripping him like he was the only thing keeping her from sinking into a sea of quicksand.

She cried, and he held her. He was desperate to know what had happened, but he waited, stroking her hair, running his fingers through it soothingly, not pushing her, but always willing to listen.

Finally, after a few moments, she spoke. “There’s someone else,” she whispered simply.

Then he understood.

Chat held her, and she sobbed quietly, and together they slumped to the ground. She didn’t need words of comfort, or any reassurance that she didn’t need this guy, or to be told that she was too good for him, or that there were other fish in the sea. She didn’t need to be told any of those things. All they needed at this moment was each other. And that was enough.

[amerrierworld]

Birthday Buzz

Ocean’s 8 - one shot

For anon :)

Summary: It’s your birthday and your fellow team of eight didn’t hesitate to go full out for the party. Especially not a certain blonde biker who’s had her eyes on you all night.

Characters: Lou x fem!reader, the Ocean’s gang

Word Count: 2,074

Warnings: swearing, fluff, drinking. also, uh, kinda nsfw ;) 

You could barely hear yourself think. The music was loud and your feet were killing you. You’d long discarded your heels, and you were sitting by the bar on one of the high stools to relieve the pain that was in your toes. 

Still, you were happy. You were sipping on a drink and watching as Tammy tried to showcase her classic ‘mom-moves’ on the dance floor as Daphne and Nineball cackled at the sight.

Your fellow heist ladies had all come together for your birthday, which made you over-joyed. Lou had made her club exclusive for one night, all for your birthday. The nine of you had partied, drank and danced long before anyone else was allowed to show up. 

There was a bag of presents safely behind the bar you hadn’t yet opened. As the night wore on, and the club opened to all extended friends and dates who had been invited, the space slowly filled up with dancers and drinkers. 

A live band was playing on stage instead of the usual DJ, and the decor had been changed for your birthday. Haphazard balloons were strewn about with your name written sloppily on a big banner. You wore a pin that said ‘BIRTHDAY GIRL’ in big swirly pink letters on your dark red dress and you had a tiara that the girls had given you as a joke. You danced around with it for a while before it flew from your messy hair and you hadn’t been able to find it since.

“Enjoying yourself?” You turned and saw Debbie Ocean standing next to you. You grinned widely at her and lifted up your glass in response. 

“Never better, Debs,” you shouted back over the music. “I can’t believe you all did this for me. Seriously.”

“Oh god, you’re not a sappy drunk, are you?”

You huffed and stared at her in disbelief. “Oh no, god no, I would absolutely never in a million years!”

Debbie laughed and came up to order a drink from the bartender.

“But like, actually though,” you continued. “This is too much!”

Debbie shrugged. “It was all Lou’s idea, really. She went to the moon and back to get you this whole evening. Had to bribe Tams to get a babysitter just to come out here, and promised Constance and Nine free dinner.”

You blushed and shook your head. “Really? God, I can’t believe she’d do that for me.”

“Yes you can,” Debbie retorted playfully. “We’ve all seen the way you guys look at each other, not to mention what you two get up to in the bedr-,”

“Fuck off, Ocean,” you growled, though your eyes were twinkling.

She smirked at you. “All I’m saying is, the ladies and I are just waiting for a proper wedding invitation, alright?”

With that, Debbie sauntered off in her blue party dress, giving you one last salute of her glass before disappearing into the crowd. 

You shook your head and scoffed at her figure walking away from you, finishing your drink before moving onto the dance floor again. 

-

Lou had been keeping an eye on you all night, making sure nothing was happening to you in case you drank too much, or exerted yourself on your special day. She was surprised how well you were holding up, considering she’d made sure you could barely walk by the time you had to get ready for the proper birthday party. 

You had insisted Lou didn’t get you anything for your birthday, and she seemingly obliged. The only birthday present she gave you was her hands and mouth before the party. Which she gave to you over and over again. But then again, she was a con, which made you believe that she probably wasn’t done with you yet.

Despite wanting to be by your side dancing and laughing, Lou had to keep her club in check as well. It was an unbreakable habit. Part of her felt guilty that she had to work to keep the party going, but also relieved because she knew the place like the back of her hand, meaning that your group could party in peace with people that they all knew instead of going around slummy bars in other parts of the city. 

It also meant that you had access to all the booze that Lou had to offer, since you were the birthday girl and she was the owner. 

Making sure that all invited guests had been checked off the list, Lou let herself breathe for a moment and follow you with her eyes. She was mesmerized by you, even as you were talking animatedly to Amita, hands flailing and cheeks flushed like you’d run a marathon. 

Her gaze raked over your figure, not a curve left unseen under the tight material of the dress you were wearing. It was a very good look on you, and Lou grinned at the memory of her convincing you to wear it tonight. 

She then set her shoulders and made her way into the crowd, determined to enjoy the rest of your special night by your side.

-

A warm hand came to wrap around your waist and you didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. You could recognize from the smell of leather and that distinct perfume who was pressing up against your back instantly, swaying to the music. 

“Having fun?” Lou purred in your ear. The music from the band seemed to slow into a comfortable swinging rhythm, and Lou took full advantage of it. 

“Mhm,” you grinned. “Best birthday ever.”

The lights were flashing neon where the dance floor was filled up, but it was still dark enough for Lou to unhurriedly press her lips underneath your ear. You sighed at the feeling and leaned further back. 

“I’m glad you like it,” Lou said. 

“I more than like it, Lou. I’m so happy right now I could die.”

“I hope you don’t mean that. I still had plans for when we got back to the loft.”

You snorted and turned in her arms to wrap your arms around her neck. “If you didn’t want me to die, you shouldn’t have said I had free range of your bar tonight.”

“Hm, I guess you’re right. No more booze for you tonight then, missy.”

You pouted dramatically and Lou laughed, her face lighting up in that way you loved so much. She was wearing a red velvet suit to match your dress, with rose gold jewelry adorning her neck as well as a silk black tie that tucked neatly into her cleavage, constantly drawing your eyes down. 

You lifted a hand to wrap around the tie and Lou’s eyes visibly darkened.

“I’ve always liked you in suits and ties,” you murmured.

“Oh yeah?” her voice was almost a growl. Her hands trailed daringly lower to rest on the curve of your hips, playing with the fabric of your dress.

“Yeah,” you said. “I might even wanna wear some of it sometime.”

Lou’s eyebrow quirked up. “And what’ll I wear then? While you’re prancing around in my wardrobe?”

You shrugged and flashed your teeth at her. “We can always go dress-shopping for you.”

Lou grinned back at you with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Never in a million years.”

You pouted again. “Not even for my birthday?”

“The only clothes involved with your birthday, young lady, are the ones that are going to end up on the floor,” Lou said, pulling you flush against her body with her lips trailing along your neck. Your knees trembled at the feeling.

“Let’s go back to my place, baby, before the others get there,” Lou murmured softly in your ear. “There’s still time to have a little more fun.”

“Hm, but we gotta get a cab and stuff,” you responded stupidly.

“I'm still sober, darling. I can drive us back,” Lou said. You looked in her eyes and saw the want in them, so you nodded, and hurried off to find your shoes before meeting Lou out front to get on her bike. 

-

Now that you were home, you moved to the kitchen to pour Lou and yourself a proper drink as you were sobering up by the minute, only to be stopped by two firm hands pressing you against the countertop, lips attacking your neck feverishly. 

You moaned at the feeling of Lou’s warm lips leaving a trail from your collarbone up to your mouth. She pulled away to press a firm leg in between yours and you gasped at the feeling. You grabbed her tie and pulled her closer, mashing you lips together until neither of you knew how to breathe anymore. 

“I want you,” you said softly. Lou’s hands trailed across your cheeks lovingly and she smiled at you, eyes crinkling behind her makeup. 

“But I already gave you so many birthday presents today, baby,” she argued, her Australian lilt coming in stronger now that she was aroused. You groaned in frustration and grabbed her ass, pulling Lou’s body fully against yours, grinding up against her. Lou’s jaw dropped in shock at the feeling and one hand came to tangle in your hair and pull, hard. 

It felt dirty, humping with your clothes on like this. But you were still a bit too buzzed and lovestruck to care. 

And horny. Don’t forget horny. 

Lou pulled away, breathless, her hair a mess. She took a gulp from the drinks you had poured before looking at you.

“Go upstairs, before the others get here. I want my way with you in peace and quiet,” she ordered. Your head swam with arousal whenever she took control over anything and you nodded meekly. 

“But who says that we were gonna be quiet, Miss Miller?” you said cheekily as you sprinted up the stairs. Lou wasn’t far behind, shedding her blazer and leaving it on the kitchen countertop as you opened the door to the bedroom. 

You stopped in your tracks.

Lou wasn’t usually one for romantic gestures, but you supposed it being your birthday, she decided to go full out. There were rosy lights lit up around the room and a bouquet of roses on the bedside table filling the room with sweet scents. On the bed were a selection of toys that you no doubt had a choice from. You blushed as you recognized some of the ones you had used only that morning. 

“Happy birthday, baby girl,” Lou murmured in your ear before appearing in front of you and capturing your mouth with hers. Her hand pressed something in yours and you looked down to see two tickets to a live show you’d been dying to see for weeks, wrapped in a neat little bow. Your mouth opened in shock and you looked up at Lou, who took the opportunity to kiss you again, pushing her tongue into your mouth. 

You’d have to thank her with words later, because no matter how special the gift was, your mind was somewhere completely different. Lou led you to the bed and pulled away to take a deep breath. 

“Take your pick,” she said, nodding to the collection on the bed. You’d already made up your mind, but to feign innocence, you glanced at the assortment. You were impressed; there were a couple of new ones you hadn’t seen before. 

But instead you met Lou’s eyes again and grinned before grabbing the black silk tie around her neck. Her eyes widened in surprise as you lifted and twisted it around so it was blocking her vision. 

She chuckled as you pulled at the knot, tightening the blindfold. You pushed her onto the bed, straddling her and kicking your heels off in the process.

As your hands began working on the buttons of her vest, hers blindly began working on the ties of your dress and you smirked as she cursed under her breath, failing miserably. Her ministrations were stopped when you attacked her neck by surprise, nipping and sucking. Hands trailed low before slipping under the waistband of her pants and Lou’s grip slackened in defeat. 

As soon as she gave in, and suddenly let you have control, you knew you’d won this round. You couldn’t help but smile a little at the sight of her as you worked to make her come undone.

A happy birthday indeed.

A/N: I said I’d give it a ‘few days’ but I couldn’t resist just posting it now, so here you go :3 the gays ask and so I deliver. Let me know what you think <3 

[cloveroctobers]

ELLADINE SARABI

IG info/bio: @/ellasardineabi | 18.5k followers | Artist | i was born with glass bones and paper skin♡

25 years old

Born & raised in Cardiff, Wales 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿

Father was in the n*vy and moved his family around a few times until he and his wife came to a agreement that it would be best for the family to grow up in one solid place

whereas he would leave for months at a time living elsewhere

Which was hard on the family at times since he is viewed as the rock of the family

He eventually left the n*vy after serving 20 years & was so thankful to, he hated it and how it messed with him mentally

He’s also of Iranian heritage

Her mother is of German heritage

Has her own restaurant that serves authentic German food

Both of her parents instilled hard work, discipline, generosity, and how to be practical in their children

Elladine is the middle child

Has a brother that is ten years older than her and then a younger sister who is seven years behind her

Canon: there is currently a discussion going on if they are going to bring their (maternal) nan/mam-gu home since the nursing home isn’t providing the proper care their nan needs

Her mother has a rocky relationship with her mother that she doesn’t like to discuss with her children but her husband knows all about it

Her nan has Alzheimer's and is becoming violent

it has become difficult seeing her most days

Elladine came into glassblowing after being involved in many classes in secondary such as workshop class

which became her fav since she was able to manipulate many materials such as metal, wood, and glass

She also took a auto body class which was interesting but she wasn’t too thrilled about it. Got away with a B- but knew she could do better if she really wanted to but she didn’t need the class to graduate so allow it

Currently works in a glass studio where her work is displayed/sold and she’s one of the main ones that makes great profit

has bought her own space for her own studio and is slowly making it to her liking with her assistant, yes she’s got one!

Hopes to be in that space within the next 6 months...it would have been a little sooner if we weren’t dealing with a global p*ndemic!!! but ya know life f*cking sucks sometimes!!!1!!:) especially if people don’t gaf

Moved back in with her parents so that she could not only help with her nan but get her studio ready, her parents approved since she was working towards something and realized her talent

I definitely see elladine going through a grunge phase and it probably still slips out every now and then lol

Her childhood room is still in shades of raspberry, gray, and a deep purple

always been plus-sized/fuller than the rest but it’s literally hereditary since her mom is built the same way who got it from her dad

Her family never made her feel ashamed as they shouldn’t and none of her true friends made her feel different since they were all of different sizes!!! besides who’s really friends with someone because of their bodies? Ur really ugly if that’s how u roll js

Always a respectful student and not too afraid to spark up a convo with you but can be a little nervous if the person is more of a “I have to warm up to you first” since she’ll feel like she’s annoying you if she carries the convo at first

Takes her time in relationships because she’s scared of getting hurt, cause breakups are not fun! Especially if theyre your friend on top of that

Although Friendship breakups are much worse let’s be honest here!!!

Has noticed that a few of her exes like to bring up that she’s controlling or too bossy in relationships and that makes her a little insecure since she doesn’t view it that way??

She knows what she wants and likes things a certain way, and she can see how it can kinda come off that way based on how she approaches/says things and tries to be better at toning it down and not being offensive to her significant others

Always has a plan and likes to follow it, she definitely keeps to-do lists on a daily

Takes trips to see Nicky often and vice-versa, every moment they spend together feels like it’s meant to be, even when it’s them just simply chilling in each other’s spaces, he’s truly one of her best friends and he feels like the missing part of her life

He offered for her to move in with him but elladine didn’t accept it since she wanted to be there to help with her nan and in fact—she wanted to be the one to ask HIM to move in with her

but if they make it long enough, they’ll go house hunting together...maybe

I get Shawn/Angela relationship vibes from them (boy meets world for those who aren’t aware of this couple and I’m not just saying this because they’re interracial as well lol) did I say this already about someone else? Brain fart lol

everyone relationship has their flaws so when they hit a bump in the road...elladine immediately wants to fix it but it comes off as more critiquing, moodiness/blaming the other

while Nicky can be defensive/argumentive/a little condescending on his end

To get through it, they normally go on a walk together in complete silence until they’re ready to speak again or they take a break from each other

I think words of affirmation is her love language

Taurus sun + Virgo moon + Capricorn rising?

“The girl on the motorcycle” is one of her fav films — no this is not metaphoric to her love life

Loves watching things with captions on since she always finds herself doing something else while watching anything (which irks Nicky a little bit but that’s just the way elladine is and he loves her so he deals with it)

Will rewind something if she missed it too

Canon: never had morning sex before

but can now say she has ;) & understands the pros people say about it and it outweighs the cons in her book

Will start the whole song over too if she missed her fav part in it

She also enjoys billiards since her brother used to work in a pool hall and when he had to watch her because she was “too young” in her words to stay home by herself he would take her there even tho technically she wasn’t supposed to be there but he was screwing his boss’s daughter so it was quite fine

her sister has a crush on Gary & ships elladine with him, which they joke about every now and then + he doesn’t follow her back, which is okay! Not a big deal but her sister keeps sliding in his dms (he’s now single)

She NEVER thought she would be on THE love island and wasn’t that confident that she’d find a real love that carried on outside of the show but Nicky has proven her wrong 🥲

She’s 5’5–5’6

Probably shops at Zara & top shop and has no issue picking pieces that flatter her “pear” figure, she loves all that is of her body: the pudge, love handles, cellulite and all (she’s very confident and won’t let anyone see her moments of doubt when it comes to her frame)

Loves mythology but will tell bill stfu if he comes near her trying to argue about anything in that subject

Very competitive and will rush through certain things, leaving one to think that she’ll fail somewhere but rarely does

If she’s not near or away from the mountains or the sea for long period of time she gets very moody!!! Guess that’s the Welsh in her huh?

Loves fireplaces, they’re super cozy and very romantic if you catch ella’s drift 😏

Probably smells like jasmine & pink pepper idk

Wants to travel to Iceland one day

Knows her way around a car but dreads having to get it fixed or fixing it herself?

Loves driving until her road rage kicks in? Oh you’re gonna go around her to get in front of her? Never that. She’ll always be in front of you and will break check you if you try her “Drewgi” she mutters

Early riser and goes to bed early too lol

She’s the crying drunk lmao

Automatically vieve has become one of her best friends from the villa but it deff didn’t feel forced like it normally would have just because their bfs have a podcast together, they talk about everything together. EVERYTHING! It feels like she’s the big sister she never had, yet they’re only a year apart lol

They have ft sleepovers and man is it fun!

Forgave lily but at the same time can’t fully see herself being friends with her like vieve tried to encourage before they went on the yacht...sorry everything can’t be Kumbaya over here sis

It sucks to say but it was easier? She doesn’t know if that’s the right term or not... for her to forgive rafi than it was lily and it’s fucked up but that’s the way it is. It’s not like she contacts him on seperate messages or anything like that! She’ll talk to him via group chat and that’s pretty much it. She knows it was all part of the show and production’s bs for ratings but that doesn’t mean it still didn’t hurt

Wishes him success on his shows/movies but doesn’t engage/watch them

What does she post? I feel like she posts maybe three times a month and a lot are outfit pics but tends to go live more so to chat with the people! She’ll also show all what glassblowing entails while chatting away! She loves that part and is pretty open about things but knows how to keep some things private

Personally wasn’t the biggest fan of season 1 but admits she wishes she had mc’s balls in terms of what she would have done if she was in elladine’s place when lily picked Nicky, “ugh! I wish I had her strength rising through my veins in that moment. Absolute riot. Adore her.”

‘“Licky” is a ugly ass ship name anyways so who’s really winning here?!’

Celeb crushes? Iwan Rheon, Henry Zaga, Anthony Welsh, jason derulo, & LaRoyce Hawkins

Listens to: soleima, Marisa Maino, Ava Max, poppy, Caroline polachek, Donny Hathaway, Phil Good, & SAINt JHN

Anthem — M.I.A. “Bad Girls”

[cno-inbminor]

a/n: drabble dump time aka random stuff i just felt like writing! ft. spy!au, iwaizumi x fem!reader. all characters are aged up. 

warnings: description of an explosion, presumed reader death, unedited. mainly angst

It’s not often that Iwaizumi wakes up like this, drenched in sweat, chest heaving, and lungs screaming desperately for oxygen. Anyone can agree that it’s never fun to wake up to a damp pillowcase and sheets that stick to skin, yet here he was, experiencing just that. What pisses him off more than anything is the fact that he knows the exact reason why he’s been acting this way. He knows the reason and yet, he’s unable to do anything about it.

When he shuts his eyes again, the vivid nightmare plays on his eyelids like the screen of a movie theatre. His vision fights to discern details through the smoke and dust, his ears are ringing from the blast, his feet stumble over broken concrete and cobblestone, his hands tremble in their hold on his spare pistol; he’s searching, pleading to an unknown force, that you’re around here somewhere.

He brings on hand up to use the collar of his shirt as a temporary dust filter. His choice of weaponry has never felt so heavy before, but he was trained to fight against the strain and the odds. You always stand back up. When you have no choice but to run, run. This was one of those moments where he’d be advised to run.

“Damn it, where the fuck are you?” Iwaizumi curses to himself, trudging through the half-collapsed building to find any sign of you. You had been too many meters away from him and out of his sight when the blast happened. There was no way for him to determine just exactly where it had come from, especially when the licks of flames behind were only growing higher and higher towards the skies. He was on a countdown to find you and get you safely to the rendezvous point, something he never thought he’d have to worry about.

He decides to take his chances and yells out your name, his voice cracking and breaking as the dust scratches at his throat like nails on a chalkboard. Gritting through the pain, he calls out again, looking in every possible direction. The earpiece in his right ear comes alive, static crackling before a familiar voice comes through.

“—jime, can you hear me? Hajime?”

“Fuck, yeah, I’m here, Kenma,” he bites, eyes still flitting everywhere.

“Are you okay? Where’s (y/n)?”

“Really fucking beat up, and trying to find her right now. I can’t see shit though.”

“Tooru’s coming around to the rendezvous point in three minutes and you need to be there. Local police and firemen are already on their way, we have to get you out.”

“Can you locate her?”

“Signal’s lost. She was last seen on the north side of the building.”

“Well fuck,” Iwaizumi groans as he recalls the layout of the building in his mind. “That side’s entirely in flames, do you think…”

“She wouldn’t go down that easy. Two and a half minutes.”

“She has to be here somewhere,” Iwaizumi argues, tone becoming frantic. There’s nothing he can do but turn back towards the fire, desperate for any sort of clue. “(Y/n)! Are you there?”

He stumbles on the path once traveled, scouring the floor and in the rubble. Then his eyes catch a flash of rose gold, buried underneath fragments of brick and stone. His fingers and knees protest when he kneels down to push all of it aside, reaching to pick up the dust-covered chain. His heart sinks past his feet and into the earth beneath him when he gets a good look at the design.

In his hands is the very necklace he had gifted you months ago, one that you never took off, one that he had eyed and seen in many nights of passion, one that he had personally clasped underneath your hair. A thin rose gold chain holding a circular pendant of the same material, no larger than the size of your fingernail, with a small diamond suspended in the middle.

It can’t be.

“Hajime, ninety seconds. You need to get out of there.”

“But—”

“We’ll find her. You have to go.”

Iwaizumi takes one more look at the fires just a foot in front of him before standing back up and heading for the nearest exit. When he stumbles out, a sleek black vehicle pulls up and he wrenches open the passenger door. Not a second longer after his bottom hits the seat, Oikawa steps on the gas, the force aiding Iwaizumi in shutting the door. With deft skills and hands, his longtime friend secures an inconspicuous escape, merging onto the highway in the direction of their headquarter facilities.

Both ignore the incessant beeping from the car, the vehicle protesting the fact that Iwaizumi isn’t wearing his seatbelt. Oikawa only needs to take one look at the chain hanging from Iwaizumi’s fist to understand the situation, quickly letting Kenma know that the retrieval was a success and they were on their way back. His eyes take a glance in the rearview mirror to ensure no one is following them before addressing the elephant in the room.

“She probably made it out and went into hiding,” Tooru hypothesizes. “Maybe she left the necklace as a sign.”

“She better fucking have or she’ll never hear the end of it from me.”

“Must you be so harsh on your girlfriend, Iwa-chan?” He attempts to tease, but it falls flat. Iwaizumi lets out a staggered sigh and leans back against the seat, staring out the tinted window. His heart beats heavily against his ribcage, hoping that in the next few hours, you’ll securely contact them and let them know you’re safe and sound.

But night comes around and there’s no word from you. Iwaizumi can’t sleep, not when the other side of his bed is empty and cold. The morning sun peeks above the horizon as Iwaizumi downs his second cup of coffee, his phone out on the dining table, sitting silent and motionless. Even when Sugawara hands him a bowl of rice, miso soup and natto on the side, Iwaizumi only eats a few grains at a time. He skips his workout routine for the day, instead taking a seat silently by Kenma and scourges through the footage of the previous day’s events.

The hours turn into days, and the days turn into weeks. The agency begins to lose hope and when the two-month mark hits, Iwaizumi watches in despair as your photo in the database gets slapped with an ‘M.I.A.” stamp on it. Oikawa tries to convey his comfort and own pain through the hand placed on his friend’s shoulder. For the rest of the day, everyone who passes by Iwaizumi gives him their best apologetic look. He can only nod and train his gaze to the floor to avoid the pity. Losing a partner is never easy, and even more so when you’re romantically attached to them.

Yet inside his gut, he doesn’t believe it. Kenma had shown him the crime scene report as well as the autopsy results – all bodies found were accounted for and none of the samples matched to any characteristics describing you. There were no Jane Does, nothing that indicated you were there besides the necklace. Whether you had hacked into the database yourself before Kenma got to it or you had just simply disappeared into the flames, you were simply…gone. It just didn’t make sense and Iwaizumi needed to get down to the bottom of all of this. You were alive – he could feel it.

The head of the agency gives him fewer missions and often pairs him with Oikawa, the best person to keep him on his toes. Iwaizumi shuts off his emotions during these times, completely zoned in on the objectives and goals, senses on high alert. He trains and trains until his abs hurt and his arms are jelly, causing Daichi to forcibly lock him out of the gym and demand that he takes a day off. This happens more times than Iwaizumi can count on his fingers and toes, so he spends his free time searching for clues. Sometimes, even Kiyoko and Yachi come by to help.

He’ll find you. He has to.

-

Four months after the incident, Iwaizumi takes a train into a small town in Germany. Thankfully, there are very few people in his cart, and he looks like the odd visiting businessman. He’s got a messenger bag leaning against his body with a worn journal in his lap, one that he had found under the floorboards of your apartment. This was the third place your journal had strung him along to, and he was really hoping you would be here.

“You have two months,” the head told him. “If you don’t find her…”

You’ll need to give up.

The unspoken words had left a bad taste in Iwaizumi’s mouth. He was a month in and beginning to lose his sanity. Reading your journal made him realize how there was so much he hadn’t learned about you, yet you knew so much about him. Had he given over his heart too easily? Were you toying with him? Did you even want to be found?

The train comes to a stop, ripping him away from his thoughts. He steps off and looks around before spotting the street he wanted. Down that road would lead him to the main plaza of the town, the one that had been vaguely mentioned in your writings. Iwaizumi begins setting himself up for disappointment so the pain would be more bearable if he doesn’t find you here in the next few days.

It’s about a 15 minute walk – cream-colored houses in an old European style tower over him as he ambles down the curvy street. He passes by bikers and crepe stands, sometimes the occasional antique store. The ambient noise of nature begins to melt into sounds of spoken word, Iwaizumi’s first sign that he’s nearing the plaza. Eventually, the street opens up into a large square. He’s greeted by restaurants and gelato shops, many people enjoying the fresh air in the outdoor seating. Children run around playing with balloons and each other, no care in the world except for their current enjoyment. Iwaizumi looks around and freezes.

There you are, sitting at a shaded table by a café, sipping on what he presumes to be a latte. A book is spread open on the metal surface and you haven’t noticed him yet. He drinks in all your features, noticing your hair color has changed and your face thinner than before. But despite these concerning changes, you still look as beautiful as ever to him.

He can’t believe it. He finally found you.

As though you felt his eyes, you look up from your book in his direction. They bore right into yours and you process all the emotions running through him. There’s confusion, pain, determination, exhaustion, but most of all, there’s love. Your heart aches at the sight of him – with no doubt in the world, there was nothing, no one you missed more than Iwaizumi Hajime, the love of your life. But it’s too early for him to find you. There was something that you needed to do, and you had to do it alone. For him.

Iwaizumi watches you warily stand from your chair. Your body is tense and ready to act, and he recognizes that stance all too well. No, don’t – !

You run.

But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t chase after you.

[drstone-writings]

Hello~~ welcome to the kingdom of science!! Can I request a good ol SoulmateAU for senku :> Thankyouu!!

hello! thank you for requesting! this is my first writing so I hope you enjoy 😊💞

word count: 2.7k

Soulmate AU! Ishigami Senku

Soulmate? Huh, that’s 10 billion percent ridiculous for Senku. He doesn’t believe in such kind of things especially if it involves romanticism, he is not a big fan of that and never in his wildest dreams that he ever thought of having a soulmate. By just having science beside him is already enough for the science user.

For Senku, having a soulmate is like engaging yourself in the illogical aspect of life and showing vulnerability. He knows how love can do complicated things to which it can also damage the rationality of human beings. And that’s the last thing that Senku ever wanted. In spite of being a science freak, he’s not an uncultured swine to not know about what love is, of course, he also watched some romantic films which is a miracle for Senku since he’s not into that kind of genre. Sci-fi is his favourite of all, like duh? It’s already obvious.

Watching how love can make people become stupid and do sorts of things that they haven’t done before. It gave more Senku a reason to not associate himself with romance, it’s really terrifying and Senku doesn’t want to not use his big brain.

In other words, he didn’t drift his mind to know who his soulmate is, it doesn’t matter to him anymore.

And Senku was kinda confounded at the words that were printed on his wrist; “Are you the sorcerer that they were talking about?”

They said that you will find your soulmate when their first word was the one that was marked on your wrist. Senku was weirded out, assuming that her soulmate is an uncanny girl to say these words to him.

Like what the fuck is this sorcerer thingy? It was comical to Senku, he couldn’t comprehend as to why those words are the first one that you’ll say to him. You only gave him a headache.

When the world turned into stone, Senku began to commence his plan by building civilization from scratch, and he needs to save 7 billion people even if Tsukasa was against his idea and hunting for his head. The only thing that can stop the kingdom of Tsukasa is to destroy them and admit defeat by utilizing science.

Thank goodness that the primitive people that he encountered which are: Kohaku, Chrome, Suika, Kinro, Ginro and Kaseki helped him to fabricate the modern technologies and medicine to cure the unknown illness of Ruri. As Senku was doing something, he heard light footsteps behind him. He thought that it might be Chrome and ask him about the ingredients that they needed to acquire for the medicine. However, as he turned his head to take a glimpse at the person, his eyebrows instantly raised once he saw a new face that entered his lab.

“Are you the sorcerer that they were talking about?” once those words slipped out from your mouth and played in his ears. Senku’s eyes flew open and jaw hang since it was all too familiar to him—no scratch that! He absolutely knew those words, it’s actually the words that were imprinted on his wrist.

Now he already knew the reason why it was your first words to him, it was too unexpected and indistinct because his soulmate was actually from 3,700 years, a primitive person where everyone doesn’t know anything about science. Moreover, he totally forgot that he has a soulmate and it still exists until now. How humorous, it seriously astonished him.

Senku suddenly chuckled and rake his fingers through his hair, he was still in disbelief and surprise at the same time. You were baffled as to why he was chuckling, you didn’t even say anything funny so why is he laughing at you? Before you can speak, Senku interrupted you.

“So you’re my soulmate?” a smirk spreads on his attractive face, thus your eyes widened upon hearing his question. Why? Because his statement was the exact words that were printed on your wrist, it was indeed shocking for you. You couldn’t believe that your soulmate was the sorcerer that was the talk about in your village, your mind still couldn’t process that the long-awaited of your life is finally happening. You’re finally in front of your soulmate that you’ve been waiting for.

You don’t want to admit it but he is actually attractive in some unidentified aspect, it was an enigma to you, you could feel your heart hammering in your chest and as if your breath was stolen by some unknown spirit.

“I—uhh… I can’t believe that the sorcerer was my soulmate,” you uttered, staring into his red coloured orbs that resemble the colour of the blood. The smug face of Senku grew wider once he suddenly thought about a wonderful idea.

“Honestly speaking, I really don’t believe in this soulmate thingy, heck I even forgot that soulmates still exists,” he chuckled and walked closer to you. “What’s your name?”

You blinked before reluctantly answering him. “Y/N.”

Senku deviously smirks and put his hands on your shoulders, gazing at you with a blatant ulterior motive. “Well then, Y/N, I’m Senku, it’s nice meeting you by the way and I know how you’ve been waiting for this moment, but sorry to spoil your excitement since we’re doing something really important and we need more manpower to lessen the workloads. As your soulmate, can you help us gather the materials that we need? Your soulmate really needs your help.”

You only stared at him with utter incredulity as you could distinguish the mischief laced in his voice. But since your soulmate is now in front of you and waiting for him for a decade, you don’t want to slip the opportunity to be with him, hence you immediately agreed to his proposition.

Oh, you have no idea how Senku felt so accomplished knowing that he acquired a member of the village to his science kingdom, and the bonus is, it was his soulmate.

Truth be told that the aspects of a soulmate are absurd to him, but he couldn’t deny the fact that he’s kinda pleased to meet you. It’s really unexpected and shocking, but he doesn’t want to waste his time and idle for a minute since he has 7 billion people to save.

After months of meeting Senku, you already grasp his personality well. He indeed loves science with all of his heart and he has this galaxy brain that no one could ever compete. Senku is a man with conviction and true to his words, despite not interested in love and soulmate thingy, he’s actually the kind-hearted man that won’t leave his friends behind and would voluntarily help them with the best of his abilities.

You’d be lying if you say that you’re not seeking for Senku’s affection because you knew that once you encountered your soulmate, you’d spend your time together by knowing each other and do some lovey-dovey stuff. Unfortunately, your soulmate is not that kind of man, he has this 0% sweetness inside his body, not only 0% but actually a negative.

His eyes are only for science and you couldn’t compete with it, Senku loves science more than anyone and he would die first before throwing it away. Well, true that Senku acknowledges you as his soulmate, but you don’t want to lie to yourself that you’re not feeling lonely and seeking some small affection from Senku. However, there are still instances where he’s going to praise you because of your hard work and giving him some ideas as well.

It’s really a nice feeling to receive some praise from the science user, every time he compliments you, you could feel the fuzzy feeling within your heart and stomach-churning pleasantly. Especially whenever he’d pat your head and ruffle your hair because you would surprise him with something valuable.

And that’s enough reason to make your face explode due to so much blushing.

Oh, Senku doesn’t have any idea that you want to squish him with a hug.

For Senku’s point of view, adding you in his kingdom is certainly the best choice that he had made, well, in the beginning, he was already thinking of how he’s going to lure everyone in the village with his kingdom. In spite of that, he’s actually grateful of you for giving him the scantiest idea and is a great help to fabricate his stuffs.

Unbeknownst to you, Senku really appreciated you being concerned for him and the one who would initiate to ask him if he needed help. He really likes your diligence and the little things you do for him like asking him if he’s alright, telling him to eat and not to sleep late, cooking for their breakfast and mostly, being so kind to him.

Senku isn’t stupid to not discern your actions, despite those uncalled gestures you show him, he’s 10 billion percent sure that you’re conferring your affections in a subtle way. He was shoving that thought away and focusing himself with tons of workloads, but he couldn’t deny the fact that he would sometimes take a glance at you doing your work.

The side of his lips would curl every time he’d watch you being so engrossed from your task. And it was really unusual for him and so not his character to think about you when night had finally come. His mind would wander to you, smiling and having fun with everyone even if your task is taxing. Senku admired your pertinacity and compassion that you emit, heck you even have higher stamina than him despite that he’s a man.

Yet again, affection isn’t in his vocabulary, he doesn’t know how he would show them, considering that romance never leapt in his mind, and he really isn’t good with women specifically if they have feelings for him. It’s a pain in the ass.

Fortunately, you aren’t the kind of person who would push themselves and pester them just because they are your soulmate. He was kinda relieved that despite being the person that you’d end up with, never once did you question him when it regards to romance and soulmate.

He sees you as an understanding and a chill person. He was grateful for that and kinda glad that his soulmate isn’t the annoying person who’d bother him to give you his attention and complain about him not being the affectionate man.

As the days go on, Senku thought about giving you a reward for your hard work, it’s not much but he speculated that it will make you happy somehow.

Senku knows that you’re once again at the cliff where you would usually hang out when you’re done for the day. Hence, he went to the said place and searched for you, once he reached the destination, he saw your figure facing your back at him and sitting in the middle while looking at the sky painted with millions of stars sparkling brightly at the overcast sky.

He wasted no time to saunter towards you and scoffed to notify you that he’s in the area. You hastily snapped your head to him and eyes slightly augmented upon seeing Senku behind you.

“What are you doing here, Senku?” the said man merely snickered and fiddled in his pockets before tossing you something that causes you to panic and caught it before it lands.

“That’s your reward for your hard work, I don’t know the things that you like, but that’s the only thing that popped in my head. I know girls like that kind of things.”

You only gawked at him then shifted your gaze at the thing that he threw at you, eyeing at your hand, your eyebrows arched once you spotted an unknown silvery thing that he had given you.

“What’s this?” you asked with confusion. Senku elicits a sigh before taking it in your hands.

“Turn around.”

“Eh?”

“Just turn around if you want to know.”

Reluctantly complying the science user, you turned around just like what he says and wonder what he’s going to do. Ahh, you just remembered that this is actually the first time you’re alone with him since he’s always with Chrome and Kohaku discussing science again. Suddenly, you felt something cold on your neck. Then your eyes settled on the silvery object that Senku gave you, your soulmate actually helped you wear it around your neck.

“That’s it, that’s how you use it. Back in our time, girls love those kinds of things and it’s an accessory for women like you, it’s called a necklace.” Senku explained as a curt smile plastered on his face.

Staring at him with jaw slightly agape, you gaze at the necklace he had given you and graze your hands at the well-carved crescent moon as its design. You don’t know what to feel at this moment, but one’s thing for sure, you are beyond ecstatic right now.

Lifting your chin to look at the man in front of you, momentarily, a sweet and sincere smile spreads on your face while holding the necklace in your hand.

“Thank you, Senku, I’m really happy today. I will surely treasure this until I die,” you mused.

As the moonlight strikes your face, defining the angles of your features, Senku was taken aback upon his vision of you was becoming more eminent in every second that would pass, as if the Goddess of the moon, Selene was knocking him out of his science senses to drift his all attention to you and realize how breathtaking and beautiful you are. And for the first time in Senku’s life, he admitted to himself that you are indeed beautiful and no lies intended.

Well, thank you, Goddess of the moon, for making Senku realized.

Senku snapped out from his trance and chuckled before stepping back. “Well, that’s only my purpose here, and now that I’m done I should go back to the lab, I need to think of a plan on how we will destroy Tsukasa’s kingdom kukukuku.”

Before the scientist will take his leave, you stopped him from his tracks when you speak.

“Senku, before you go… can I hug you even just for a second?” your voice was barely audible, but Senku heard it loud and clear. It took him by surprise and his jaw dropped onto the ground, doesn’t know how he will respond to that.

He only stared at you looking down while fiddling your fingers. Thank God that he couldn’t see your intense red face due to so much embarrassment.

It took him a minute to catch his breath and snapped him out of his daze, Senku meekly scratched the back of his head and glanced at you with disinclination. Since he doesn’t want to spoil your happy day and this is your first request to him as your soulmate, he had already decided.

“…Go ahead, only 5 seconds though.” Hearing his answer, your face lit up and feel your heart beating vigorously. You observed Senku’s awkward expression and you couldn’t help but softly chuckle before running towards him and engulfed him with a hug that you’ve been wanting to happen ever since.

Senku slightly lose his balance when you suddenly ran into him and hugged him, he doesn’t have any idea on what he should do, he isn’t the type of guy who knows intimacy and he’s not into cheesy things since it’s not his forte. It was really uncomfortable for him and never once in his life he had received a hug from the opposite sex. It was all foreign to him.

“Thank you… I’m glad that you’re my soulmate.” Senku’s gaze drifted towards you, your face was buried into his chest and your hug squeezes as if this is the first time you hugged someone.

Senku suddenly felt a fuzzy feeling in his heart, this new emotion was foreign to him and he couldn’t fathom as to what it was. Despite that he’s an intelligent man, in these kinds of things, he doesn’t have any clue about it. Senku is a beginner to this stuff.

Subconsciously, Senku’s hand found its way on your head and pat it with gentleness, his eyes soften and a sincere smile crept on his visage.

“Yeah…” was all he says. The 5 seconds that he had said turned into minutes.

For some unknown reason, he wants to stay in this position for a moment and feel the warmth of your hug that was giving him the relaxation that he needs. it was indeed a pleasant feeling to which he doesn’t want to stop this moment for a meantime.

Having a soulmate doesn’t seem so bad after all.