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teaspoon-full-of-sugar · 3 years

Text

lesson

pairing: harry styles x reader

warnings: smut, masterbation, daddy mentions, heavy degradation and humiliation (lots of sluts and whores) but also some good girls !! teasing (so much teasing), orgasm denial/edging, choking, bondage, cum play (so also unprotected sex), pussy play (including spanks and cock thumping), pillow humping (for like a second), spitting, panty fucking, harry has a very dirty mind, please, only 18+ !!

word count: 6.4k

synopsis: he only has one rule, and she still can’t seem to follow it (or in which harry teaches y/n a lesson)

author’s note: hello! this took a little longer than i expected, so thank you for being patient with me! this is absolute, pure, unadulterated filth (absolutely no fluffiness about this—be proud for me) please, note the warnings and don’t read if you’re uncomfortable with anything mentioned above (that’s why i put them there :)) xx

masterlist

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Y/N’s heart races in her ears as she scrubs at her hands, foamy soap slipping down her wrists in her haste. Harry calls for her downstairs, the front door slamming shut, shaking the house. She can’t find her voice just yet, traces of a stolen orgasm lingering in her tired body. The sheets are crumpled from her quick highs, and her legs are weak. She feels giddy, despite the odd numbness that seeps into her bones. She finally feels fulfilled after a long day of insatiable throbbing between her legs.

Clad in a simple tee and underwear, she steps out of their bathroom when he finally gets up to their bedroom. She dries her hands off, eucalyptus, mint, and other artificial scents lingering. She’s still catching her breath.

“Hey, babe,” she smiles, just like she does every time he gets back home, but there’s something behind it that’s unfamiliar, a devilish hint.

It’s her eyes that give her away.

They’ve been together long enough for him to know what she looks like after she comes, her shaky legs, dopey smile, and glazed over eyes. The mischievous glint is different, however.

“How was your—”

“How many times?”

“What?” She tilts her head to the side, brows furrowed innocently. It angers him; it actually makes his chest tight, and he has to bite his cheek to keep from snapping. She has the nerve to act as if nothing is wrong. Lip tucked between teeth, she steps forward, hands splayed in front of her. An unfamiliar feeling bubbles in his stomach. Not quite possessiveness but certainly close, this feeling is akin to lust and indignation, and it melts into a pool of gluttonous desire.

Normally, he takes a step back to collect his thoughts when he’s this emotionally invested, but it’s difficult when she looks so tempting, so divine, so satisfied. Fresh faced with a cheeky grin, she beckons him, imploring him to punish her, challenging him to ruin her.

He stalks forward, their gazes never faltering, until she falls onto the bed, still looking at him innocently.

“How many times did you make yourself come?”

His words bite, but she looks indifferent, the glazed look in her eyes taunting him. She doesn’t answer, but then again, she knows that she doesn’t need to. He cups her throat, so tender, pliable, and exposed, and he can feel her swallow thickly.

“I’ll ask again. How many times?”

She stares at him, jaw set and ready to hold her own. It’s different from her usual demeanor. No matter how bratty she would act, she easily fell into her submissive headspace, answering his questions obediently and listening to him eagerly. She doesn’t seem to want to break that easily today. Instead of her usual shy and shameful glaces at her hands, she sits up fully, looking him dead in the eyes, and grins, a twisted little smirk that makes his stomach curl and his cock grow thick. She wants to play a game, but it seems that she has forgotten that he is the one in charge. His fingers tighten around her throat, pressing into the spots beneath her jaw that leave her vision hazy.

“Only once,” she says sweetly, albeit weakly from her grip on her neck.

Lies.

He knows that.

She knows that he knows that, but maybe a part of her just wants him to piss him off.

“Don’t you dare lie to me,” he snaps. “How many times?”

His patience is wearing thin, and this game, this teasing, is getting out of hand. She thinks that she can have an advantage over him, while still playing the submissive. Someone needs to put her in her place.

“Almost three times,” she admits finally, sinking back. He finally lets go of her neck, and she holds the spot where his hand once was, vexing eyes yearning for his touch. He cocks a brow.

“Almost? Did I interrupt the third?”

“Yes,” she whines. That’s when he notices her thighs pressing tight together, and she shifts on the bed.

“Does daddy not please you, babylove? You need to touch your princess parts because daddy doesn’t make you feel good anymore.”

Filled with hurt, his words seem to get to her. The familiar docile look in her eyes slips in, and her lips sink into a pout. She’s drinking from the palm of his hand.

“Maybe I just shouldn’t touch you anymore—”

“No,” she cries, sinking further into her headspace. “But—daddy, you left this morning,” she says, her lips pouting.

That’s true.

The night before, she was his soft babylove, who just wanted to be as close to him as possible, be held and comforted and loved. That’s how he awoke this morning: warm with his cock soft inside her. He kissed her awake, as she deserved, and even though he felt comfortable simply being wrapped in her warmth, he needed to taste her. He was slow with his movements, languidly licking along her lips until wetness coated her thighs, teasingly sucking on her clit until she was trembling, wanting to build up the pleasure.

Admittedly, he had to rush out before she could finish and go to a meeting regarding his upcoming tour. He had quite the time trying to hide his semi for the better part of the morning.

“And I was feeling achy,” she continues rambling; the poor thing is close to tears. He feels for his pretty girl, he truly does, but he pushes that aside. A part of him feels hurt, like she couldn’t trust him to take care of her when he came home. Harry doesn’t ask much. She can be as bratty as she wants to, purposefully teasing him when they’re in public or refusing to do the simplest of requests, but he just asks that she let him take care of her.

She couldn’t even give him that courtesy.

“Don’t make excuses,” he scoffs. “I thought you were a big girl.”

“I am,” she promises.

“Big girls wait for daddy to come home and help them come,” he says, stroking her cheek. Tender touches mask his true intent. He suddenly shoves her back, hand tight to her throat once again, and she gasps, head tilting back into their pillows.

“Naughty girls touch themselves. Whores come almost three times at their own hand.” He grits his teeth. “Are you a whore?”

She doesn’t answer, but he can feel her heart racing beneath his grasp. A glimpse of a smile is enough to let him know that she’s fine; she’s enjoying herself, seeing him so riled up, possessive, and ravenous.

“Are you still wet? Achy?”

She nods.

“Whores get wet when they’re in trouble,” he says offhandedly. Her body quivers at the malice dripping from his tongue. “Arms up.”

She does as told, holding onto the headboard, eagerly awaiting his next demand. This is what she wanted, after all.

She has no idea what’s coming.

Usually, whatever punishment he gives her is what she also enjoys, from the occasional spanking to overstimulation. He usually has her coming until she can’t take anymore, until an ache seeps into the bliss.

Not this time.

He tugs her shirt up and over her head while his other hand fiddles in their bedside drawer. Moments later, a pair of silk scarves tie her hands to the headboard.

“Not too tight?”

She tugs on the restraints and shakes her head.

“Color?”

“Green.” She beams, breaking character for a moment.

Even if they were in the midst of a deep fantasy, he has always made a point to make sure she knows that it's alright to voice any discomfort and vice-versa; she often asks for his color whenever he seems to be overwhelmed. They both know how volatile headspaces can be, with the slightest changes making a huge difference in the experience.

He runs his nose along hers, lips tracing along the curves of her face, nibbling teasingly at her chin, down her neck, and grinds himself against her. He sucks on her breasts, biting at her nipples until they’re peaked. She closes her eyes, savoring every spike of bitter pleasure he has to offer. He sits back after a moment, appreciating the glimpse of light that catches her wet skin. He palms himself.

“It’s only fair that I get to come three times since you did. Make us even, right, lovie?”

“But I only made myself come twice.”

Y/N really has the nerve to talk back to him with her hands tied to the headboard, her body exposed to him, the only thing covering her modesty a flimsy pair of underwear. He cocks his head to the side.

“Should we make it four?”

That makes her hesitate, sinking back in the sheets. She shakes her head, cute pouty lips puckering. He would love nothing more than to run his cock along that pretty, dirty mouth, to feel her greedy tongue tracing the underside of him lazily, to wrap his hand around her throat and feel it expand as he fucks her face.

But he knows that she would enjoy it too much.

Too much for a punishment.

Harry traces along the curves of her features, from the slope of her nose to the round of her cheek, soft and lingering, a harsh contrast of what’s to come. He smirks. She parts her lips like a good girl when his thumb passes over them, biting it teasingly. He, then, drags it down her chin, leaving a trail of wetness in its wake.

He can’t help but think about how pretty she would look with cum and spit dribbling from those sinful lips, eyes barely able to stay open. Fucked beyond belief, she would moan his name and other incoherent thoughts oh-so sweetly, her voice wrecked. His grateful babylove, his lovely, satiated Y/N would whisper a soft thank you after taking him so well. He truly wishes he could do that, give her anything she ever desired, make her feel euphoria like never before, a high no one other than him can give her, but she was greedy and naughty and misbehaving.

And she needs to learn a lesson.

Now, he has to tease her, to bring her to the brink of orgasm, only to shatter her, again and again, until she’s on the brink of tears. She’s going to be left unsatisfied, trembling beneath him, while he brings himself to orgasm, again and again, until he’s milked himself dry. She will be grateful if he gives her even a bit of pleasure, but it is not enough to push her to the end.

It would never be enough.

He leans in close, his lips a fleeting embrace, just past her reach. He wants to taste her, but he needs to be patient.

A warmth buries her, and his overwhelmingly familiar scent swallows her, safe and comforting. She doesn’t know she’s even pulling on her restraints until her fingers are numb and tingly, yearning to feel his skin.

Maybe this was a bad idea, but it’s too late to turn back now.

“You can beg and plead all you want,” he says, “but know this: you will not be coming again tonight.”

Her eyes darken, and a satisfied little grin graces her pretty face.

She got what she wanted, tied up and vulnerable to him.

However, this isn’t her game anymore.

Now, she’s at his utter mercy.

“And if you do come, somehow, I will not touch you for a week; not only will you not feel my cock, my fingers, or my tongue, there will be no kisses or cuddles. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“There’s my good girl.”

He unbuttons his shirt, slowly, diligently, his fingers lingering a little long on his inked stomach, knowing that she likes to take her time and admire that part specifically. After he peels the button up away, he finally sits next to her on the bed, his back to her. His belt falls to the floor with a clatter, and she holds her breath.

The silence is deafening, thick with tension. She waits, knowing that patience will help her. She also knows better than to say anything, since it would probably worsen her current predicament. Harry has always been level-headed, even in his dominant headspace, being very patient, especially in trying circumstances. He can take a lot before he snaps. She usually has to beg him to slap her, to spit in her mouth, or to fuck her so hard her legs give out.

This new persona is unpredictable, new, and alluring.

It’s different and all the more arousing.

She shifts, the bed frame creaking. A feeling of naughtiness courses through her, as it did earlier. She wants to see how much she can get away with and how far she can go before he loses control and puts her in her place. She watches him closely, her breathing ragged. She drags a pillow up by her feet, and Harry pays her no mind, perhaps assuming she’s just getting comfortable. His shoulders shift as he nimbly undoes the buttons to his pants, his back muscles tightening and relaxing. He begins taking off his pants, billowy and undoubtedly expensive fabric slipping down one leg at a time slowly, meticulously. The pillow now nestled between her legs, she grinds her hips down, wishing it was his thigh, the one with tiger on it, bared teeth and hungry.

He turns suddenly, and she’s caught yet again, but she doesn’t stop. Instead, she works herself harder, imploring him to stop her—to punish her. The pillow does very little to satiate the pent up tension between her legs, but it’s better than nothing.

Honestly, she knew he was going to catch her in her lies. That's why she made herself come right before he got home. She wants to get caught, the thrill of going against his rules giving her a high she’s still coming down from. And as he looks at her again, fury in his eyes, she could just fall apart. She wants him to put her in her place, punish her for being a naughty, filthy brat.

She wants him to ruin her.

“No,” he growls, ripping the pillow away and effectively knocking her legs back apart. He slaps her pussy with little warning. She squeaks, tugging at the silken restraints. A shaky, guttural moan shutters from her chest, deep and desperate, and her head falls back into the mattress.

“Fuck,” she cries.

The skin of her swollen pussy burns in the most addicting way, leaving her legs spasming, feet slipping down the sheets. She can feel his rings through her panties, just a slight sting, but her clit takes a brunt of the force, and perhaps, that’s what makes it so good.

“No moving.”

He rubs her soothingly, a stark contrast to the fire behind his eyes. Despite how bratty she’s been, her sweet, attentive Harry is still there, making sure she’s taken care of, comfortable, and safe. Her needy hips chase his fingers, a broken plea on the tip of her tongue.

Again.

He twists her panties with his index finger until her puffy pussy swallows them, the swell of her mound bulging from the tight elastic bands. He smacks her again, a little more gentle this time, but hard enough to still make her toes curl. She laughs through a breathy moan, her heart racing. He tsks, mumbling under his breath.

“This is your punishment. You’re not supposed to be enjoying it.” He tugs her panties up tight to her clit. “You’ll take anything I give you. Won’t you? I could spit on you and call you a bitch, and you’ll say thank you. Right, babylove?”

He delivers another resounding slap to her cunt, and then, another for good measure. This time, her back arches from the mattress, eyes rolling back. Fire licks her skin, and it hurts, no doubt, but in such a way that's indescribable; it burns, but it spreads throughout her whole body, and it makes her limbs tingly and warm, yearning for more. Again, he runs his hand along her exposed mound to ease the ache.

“Thank you,” she moans, and he smiles. He spanks her poor pussy raw, again and again, until his hand hurts and her arousal drips onto the sheets. Her thighs threaten to close, but she digs her feet into the mattress, aching for more pain, more pleasure, just more. Her world spins, but at the center of it all is him—striking eyes, teasing smile, and pretty lips—and he’s all hers.

“Taking it so well, pretty girl,” he says, moving to kneel between her spread legs. He can feel the wetness through her panties, and he nudges his head around where her clit is, still blocked by her useless underwear, her pussy visibly tightens with anticipation. He leans back, still close enough to feel the heat from her, and he slips his cock under her panties, the tight, elastic band pulling at his tender skin while her lips massage the underside. She’s wet, perhaps from her orgasms from earlier, but likely from the spanking. He thrusts, wrapped in soaked panties, until the tip of his cock nudges the fabric at the top of her mound, and he twitches when the underwear pulls at the sensitive head in a certain way.

“Such a naughty girl,” he moans, thumbs pulling at the fabric to wrap tighter around his cock. “I’m only fucking your panties, and you’re already soaked.”

He pulls out reluctantly, his cock heavy on her wet underwear. He spits on the fabric and spreads it over her mound, just to tease her little more. She tugs at her restraints and whines from the sudden cold.

A drop of saliva slips past his puckered lips, landing on his open palm, which now cradles his cock. He hasn’t resorted to jerking himself off in a long time; he hasn’t needed to, but he works himself easily, finding a calculated rhythm, fast then slow, quick, eager strokes along the head then long, languid strokes along the entire length. He sits on his heels, and his legs ache from the weight. Her thighs twitch, and she pulls at the restraints. His balls brush against her mound with every movement of his hand, and he swears he can feel her jump with every movement, so sensitive, so responsive. He fucks his fist, hips unconsciously bucking, wishing it is her warmth that coats him, squeezes him, and pulls him in. He yearns to touch her, to feel her smooth skin, but he knows that this lack of physical touch is as difficult for her to bear as it is for him, and that makes it a little better.

Her chest heaves with unsteady breaths, eyes fixated on his hand working his cock. She pulls futilely at the scarves, until her wrists hurt. She knows that she’s not going to be able to get out, but she unconsciously reaches for him. She’s not used to being so exposed, body vulnerable to his gaze, without having him touch her. Sure, their thighs are pressed tight together, but it’s not nearly enough.

This isn’t what she thought was going to happen when she broke his rules. Truly, more so than usual, this is a punishment: to see him work himself to orgasm without being able to touch him. She wishes she was the one to make him squirm, moan, and come.

“Please,” she whines, eyes pleading with him, and he knows what she’s begging for.

“What? You think I want to touch a dirty little brat like you?”

“You’re being mean.”

“I’m being mean? I came home, hoping to spend a nice evening with my good girl, only to find out that she broke my rule,” he says. “My one rule.”

He wishes it was her hand stroking him, eager eyes and tempting smile staring back at him. It would feel so much better than his own calloused fist. He feels himself tighten to signal an impending end, weak but an end nonetheless.

“I wanted nothing more than to come home and to have you come on my tongue more times than you can count, but you couldn’t be patient, and now, you have to take your punishment.”

She twists and squirms beneath him, her body undulating on the sheets. The need that tugs on her features is almost enough to break him, to make him give in and make his pretty girl come on his face, but then he remembers that scheming smile she had on her face, that devious look that made him rife with lust. He remembers that she was on this very bed by herself just before he got home, making herself come, her head thrown back, whining and whimpering. The thought brings the fire back.

He cups her cheek and leans forward, stretching her legs apart, and his cock rests just above her belly button, still cupped in his hand. Her tongue dips out of her mouth. His eager, naughty girl waits for him to spit in her mouth, to shove his ringed fingers down her throat, to do anything, but he pulls back again, and she frowns.

“How did you do it? Did you use your fingers, baby?”

She nods pitifully, and he hums, his strokes quick.

“Yeah? Bet they weren’t as good as mine.” He runs his thumb along the head, pleasure sending chills down his spine, trying to prolong his buildup.

“No one’s fingers will ever be as good as mine.”

He wants to prove it to her, to pound his fingers inside her until she can barely breathe, arousal gushing down his wrist as she comes until she’s crying. He wants to kiss her tears away as she begs for more. Perhaps, with all the teasing and build-up, he could get her to come with just one finger with one well-placed thrust. Her hips buck, and he knows that she’s thinking about that, too. After the stolen orgasm from earlier and the burning spanks her poor pussy received, she must be desperate for anything he’ll give to her.

His orgasm builds quickly, with his thoughts running amuck, visions of her, on her knees before him, choking on him until tears stream down her cheeks, on her back, moaning while he pounds into her, on top of him, grinding down on him, not letting up because she just loves the feeling of him deep inside her belly.

He comes on her tummy, a broken moan slipping past his bitten lips, spurts of his seed stain her pretty skin, and her breath hitches, shocked at the sudden warmth; then, she hums contentedly.

“There,” he sighs, admiring his work.

“Thought you were gonna come three times,” she says softly as he steps off the bed, sore cock heavy between his legs. His knees tremble.

“Open,” he coos, slipping his fingers in her mouth, and she sucks away the remnants of his orgasm. He smooths out her brow with his free hand, brushing away a bead of sweat that sunk from her hairline.

“Who said I’m done with you? No, I’m gonna go shower, and you’re going to stay there with my cum on your tummy and think about what you’ve done.”

He kisses her nose, just like he does every morning after loving on her. It’s a sweet gesture, one that doesn’t match his demeanor. He leaves her there, like he said he would, tied up as he moves to the bathroom, shoulders pushed back, self-assured and composed. Harry steps into the steaming shower, washing away the sweat from his skin.

Y/N whimpers in the next room. She has given up on tugging at the silk scarves; instead, she’s trying to ignore the insatiable throbbing between her legs, her arousal slipping out onto her thighs, like a greedy slut. His words ring in her ears, and it makes the arousal worsen.

She rubs her thighs together to alleviate some pressure, but it’s little use. Perhaps, if she tests him just a little more, he’ll throw away all willpower and ravish her until the early morning hours, but her resolve weakens with every passing minute. She wanted to tease him a bit, maybe get him a little mad, so he would put her in her place. She wanted him to fuck her to oblivion, until she can’t keep her eyes open.

This is a different kind of punishment, one she’s never even considered. In her fantasies, she’s tied up and vulnerable, but he lavishes her with touch until she’s overstimulated, drunk on him, his scent, his touch, his voice.

This is a different kind of punishment, a true punishment in her eyes. The teasing, lingering touches is enough to make her burst, and to have him there but just beyond her reach is near painful.

His cum has nearly dried on her belly, and she wishes he came inside her, stuffed full of his warmth; at least, then, she wouldn’t be so cold, so exposed.

She perks when he steps out of the bathroom, and he wastes no time straddling her hips, his cock twitching against her tummy. The weight of his body on hers is suffocating, her overstimulated senses taking him in, his warmth, his touch, his scent. She can feel every ridge of his body, every drop of water that slips from his clean skin, everything.

It’s almost too much all at once.

“Color?”

She blinks.

“Daddy, please,” she whispers, “want you to fill me up. ‘M such a greedy cock slut. I won’t even come, promise—”

“Y/N, I need you to tell me what color,” he says.

He doesn’t usually use her name when they’re this far into the fantasy, but it seems she needs it now.

“Green,” she breathes out. “Green, green, you feel so good, H. ‘M sorry I touched myself; I just couldn’t help it. Wanna make you feel good, please.”

“I wanna believe you, baby.” He cups her cheek, cold water dripping from his hair and melting into her skin. He takes her in, relishing in the sight of her craving, trembling, and begging for his touch. He likes seeing her on edge like this, dangerously close to teetering off into oblivion.

“But I don’t think it’s really sunk in yet.”

He traces the head of his red cock along the seams of her panties, like he did earlier, but this time, he tugs her underwear aside, mouth watering at the sight of her pretty, puffy pussy, surely sore from the spanking earlier. He spits on her, and he watches as it slips down into her most intimate fold. She’s so responsive to the slightest touch. He spreads her open, lips parted to reveal her wanton pussy. He tugs back the hood of her button, hard and throbbing.

He slaps his cock against her clit, the skin tacky with his spit. The slight, sudden touch is electrifying, and it makes his cock twitch, hungry for more. He can see her tighten up, and her hips jolt. Shivers trail from her spine to the tips of her peaked nipples. He thumps the head of his cock on her clit quickly, concurrent with every keen thrust of her hips, spitting in her every so often, leaving her wet and swollen and filthy, just like she is.

“Thank you,” she whimpers. “Feels so good, daddy.”

He teases the head of his cock just past her lips and nestles himself inside her finally, her warmth swallowing him easily. His eyes flutter closed, savoring what he so desperately needed.

She breathes out sharply when he stops with just the head inside her. This teasing is almost becoming too much.

“More,” she whimpers, “Please?”

He looks at her with fire in his eyes.

“No, you don’t tell me what to do. Besides, I don’t think you deserve my cock.”

She could almost cry. He’s so close, but he won’t go any further, just teasing her with what could have been. She tries to pull him in deeper, her walls tightening around his head. It makes his toes curl, burning pleasure forming in his belly. She tries to pull him in, aching for just a little more. He holds her hips down to keep her from moving.

“Please, I’ve been good. I said I was sorry for making myself come. I’ll never do it again, promise. Please, I just wanna feel you, daddy. That’s all I wanted today.”

“This isn’t about you anymore, babylove. You’re just daddy’s little fucktoy, my little cock slut.” He thrusts slightly, the tender head dragging along her tight opening, never pushing further. “And right now, I wanna hear you cry for my cock.”

Her feet trail up his legs, knees hooked at his hips, frantically trying to pull him in entirely. She tried to be good; she asked him nicely to just fuck her already. At this point, she doesn’t even want to come. She just wants to feel him, to alleviate at least some of the pressure throbbing between her legs. It’s humiliating because she’s near tears, desperate for his cock.

He came not even fifteen minutes ago, and he’s still sensitive. He pulls back until the head is nestled just past her entrance, muscles tight around the tip. He jerks off the base of his cock for more stimulation. A part of the pleasure comes from watching her squirm; she’s so desperate as she yanks at her restraints, hips thrusting and pussy clenching to pull him in deeper. It’s such an odd sensation, her entrance being fairly sensitive, but it’s not enough to stimulate her.

It’s never enough.

“Maybe you’ll come just by the feeling of my cum inside you.”

She honestly might.

The skin of his cock drags back and forth along her sensitive walls as he jerks himself off inside her.

“I bet you will,” he grins. “Just remember, if you come, I will not touch you for a week. Be very careful, Y/N.”

She wiggles pitifully, her arousal dripping down his shaft, and he uses it as lubricant.

“I bet your poor little clit is throbbing,” he teases. “‘M so sorry, babylove.”

He’s not.

There’s a wicked smile that splits his face.

He pulls out suddenly, making her gasp, and thumps his cock some more on her pussy, landing a particularly rough blow to the sensitive part of her exposed clit, puffy with arousal, the hood stretched back.

“Please, daddy,” she whimpers, “more. I’ve been good. I won’t do it again.”

He gives her some more, dragging himself along her fold in languid motions, circling around her clit before he thumps his cock on her pretty little button. She squeaks.

He stuffs himself inside again, just like before with only the head inside her. She groans, tightening up. It’s as if her body has a mind of its own, clenched and frenzied for any type of stimulation. She squeezes him so tightly, and she fights against his hold on her hips.

He comes shortly after, his body curling into itself like it usually does when he has a particularly strong orgasm, back arching with every wave.

Y/N moans when his cum fills her, reaching deep inside her, and her walls clench with need. It’s barely anything, but it’s still more than what he was giving to her before, and she could honestly come from that little bit alone. She’s trying to regain her composure, cunt still throbbing. He kisses her face, like he usually does after he comes, a gentle reminder that he’s still her Harry. He massages her waist, lingering down to her hips. They bask in each others’ warmth, trying to find the energy to move.

That’s normal for him, sweet and mushy and loving.

What she doesn’t expect is him tightening his hold on her hips and thrusting himself fully inside her, his cock still weeping out remnants of his orgasm.

She would scream if she could, but the breath is knocked from her lungs, choked moans passing through clenched teeth. Animalistic and brutal, Harry sets a quick pace, her entire body moving with the power behind his thrusts. Her mind is blank, and her body hums, pleasurable vibrations coursing through her body to every single nerve. She forgets that she isn’t allowed to come, but she couldn’t bring herself to care about the consequences just yet. Finally, she can taste the bittersweet euphoria, making her world dizzy as he fills her again and again. She could almost cry with utter relief.

Yes, yes, this is what she wanted—no, needed—and it’s even better than she dreamt. Her sopping pussy takes him easily, reaching the neediest part of her. She spreads herself further, angling her knees to her chest so he can pound himself deeper inside, cream dripping onto the sheets. Her legs are sticky with their shared arousal.

Harry’s face is flushed, brows furrowed as he loses himself in the feel of her. It’s been almost as torturous for him as it has for her; he doesn’t think he’s ever felt this frantic, never has he felt so desperate to plunge himself into her depths, never has he been so entranced, so sensitive to any touch. His head tips back, features twisted, chest bared, and teeth gritted. His breaths are weak, faltering and shallow. He groans as she tightens around him. Sweat drips down his chest.

“H? Color?”

It takes a moment to pull him back.

“Green, baby,” he says, smiling ever so slightly.

He’s never felt this before, this vulnerable yet powerful, on the verge of pleasure and pain, dancing along a tightrope threatening to snap at any second, such a thrill. He feels light headed, high off of her. He wants to feel her, embrace her, love her.

He rips at the knots around her wrists, fingers trembling, but they won’t budge, and he loses his balance, instead wrapping his arms around her arched back. He nestles his nose in her neck, pulling their chests tight together. She smells of salt and sin and sex, and he can’t control himself.

“So fucking good.”

He presses himself deeper, the head of his sensitive cock nudging the inmost parts of her. He fucks her easily with his cum spilling out with every hard thrust, leaving their connected bodies sticky. He can’t pull out much without his cock weeping with overstimulation, but he can’t stop, the pleasure all too addicting.

“Jus’ one more, lovie,” he whispers. “So close. Don’t you dare come.” He grits his teeth, rubbing at her swollen clit, subtly and just to make it throb, before his hands rest on her lower belly, thumbs connecting just below the button. He fucks into her harder, the bed frame shaking and smacking into the wall.

That’s when realization hits her.

She’s close.

She’s so close, one well placed thrust, one harsh stroke to her clit will push her over the edge.

But she has to hold it off.

His words ring in her ears in time with her racing heart, his threat of no intimacy sobering her. If she thought before was punishment, having to see him pleasure himself without being able to touch him, this is hell. Her orgasm burns painfully in her belly. It tastes so sweet. She clings to the silk restraints. She doesn’t want to give in, but it would feel so good; it would be a high that would leave her lightheaded for hours afterward, and shockwaves of pleasure tightening her muscles as a constant reminder.

She sobs, on the brink of breaking. Her hands tingle, drained of blood. She’s trying to relax, to breathe through the waves of euphoria that crash over her, and it works for a second, but with that, she opens up more, taking him deeper and more easily. That’s when the pleasure would shatter the calm in harsh waves. She closes her eyes, a drawn hum seeping from her chest. He grabs the back of her neck, using it as leverage as he fucks himself deeper into her, and she cries out.

“Look at me,” he demands. She does, barely, her teary eyes glimmering. He smiles, and she feels warm. “There’s my pretty girl. I’m almost there, just a little bit more. Doing so well for me babylove. Don’t come.”

“Please,” she moans, peering through her lashes. “Come for me, daddy.”

She lights a fire in his veins, sending a rippling feeling of ecstasy through his spine. His eyes roll back as he comes once again, his prick pulsating as he empties himself deep inside for a third and final time. Satiated, he grinds his hips against her, wanting to be as close to her as possible. She’s throbbing around him, legs trembling at his sides. She sighs, most likely out of relief but perhaps also out of frustration. As he nestles himself deeper, her lips tremble, features pinching as she tries to hold off an orgasm, clenching so tightly that his softening cock slips out of her. She moans.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, pressing his lips sweetly to her sticky forehead. “You did so well for me, babylove. So proud of you.” Then again to her cheek. He traces up the backs of her thighs, hooking her legs around his waist.

“What did we learn?”

“Don’t touch yourself unless daddy says so,” she whispers, her voice dry. He nods appreciatively, eyes taking in her trembling form, and leans back.

Her thighs twitch occasionally at his sides, and he wants to bite them, skin surely sensitive to the slightest of touches. Sweat and cum and saliva paint her flesh, but the absolute masterpiece is her ruined pussy, swollen and wet and divine. He thumbs at her, gently guiding her lips apart to expose her pink inside, quivering with an insatiable need. He wants to lick up the cum that slips out of her, but she’s been through enough, the aftershocks of her stolen orgasms still visibly lingering in her sore body.

Another time, perhaps.

“That’s right, babylove. I think you finally learned your lesson.”

—

#enjoy nasties #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #ellie writes #ellie writes smut #ellie writes filth #never knew i would have to make a tag like that but #here we are #gif not mine #credit to owner

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britishboystm · 3 years

Text

Yoga Antics | Fred Weasley 18+

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: smut 18+ (minors dni!), unprotected vaginal penetration, male masturbation, kissing, swearing, fluff

WC: 2.9k

Summary: Y/N gets into yoga. Now Fred wants to get into Y/N...

A/N: A little something something while y’all wait for the next chapter of TDWM. Enjoy ya horny bastard!

•••

Stress management was something that you had grown to value a great deal in your free time. Even more so when you wound up marrying a Weasley twin.

It wasn’t that you didn’t absolutely adore your husband. You loved him with every fibre of your being. It was true however that sometimes you just needed a moment to yourself to unwind and recuperate, especially when living with such a hectic personality like Fred.

On the hunt for new tactics to tend to your mental health, you came across yoga, a muggle activity that Hermione had been raving about once her and Ron came back from her hometown during the Christmas break. She had said that her mom got her into it and how it made her stress levels drop drastically.

Admitly, you were skeptical at first. The idea of twisting and contorting your limbs to relax your racing mind seemed ridiculous. A simple spell should have been able to do the trick just fine, but alas one did not exist for such a thing, so you were left with not much to work with.

Hoping to persuade you, Hermione handed you a book from across the kitchen table while Ron and the twins laughed about some absolute nonsense in the living room of your home.

“Trust me Y/N. I’m usually a cynic myself about these things, but when I tell you yoga changed my life,”

She quickly glanced over at the boys to make sure their attention was averted elsewhere before leaning in so only you could hear.

“You would not believe the sex I’ve been having. Ever since I started doing yoga, I’ve been able to do things with my body that I could never imagine even in my wildest dreams.” Your eyes expanded instantly upon hearing her saucy confession. It was very unlike Hermione Granger to be so flippant about something as personal as what her and her husband did behind closed doors.

“Hermione!” You squeaked out as you shot your hands up to your flushed cheeks, embarrassed at the thought of your brother in law and best friend/sister in law in any kind of compromising situation. The image was now ingrained into your brain, an image you could easily do without no less.

Hermione lightly giggled but quickly covered it up with a cough when she noticed Ron and the twins look over at the two of you with interest.

“Everything alright ‘mione?” Ron asked, clearly oblivious to the raunchy conversation taking place between the whispering women.

“Nothing, go back to whatever you were doing.” She spoke, pursing her lips to hide a smirk. He gave her a look that read what are you up to over there? but quickly dropped it when he turned back around to continue the conversation he was having with his older brothers.

“I’m serious though, it has been an absolute godsend. I’m sure you and Fred can both get something out of it.” Your cheeks grew an even deeper red at the thought of what all of that might entail.

“Thank you for the advice Hermione. I’ll keep it in mind.” Maybe you would give the book a quick look through, if you were able to find any time during your insanely busy schedule.

“Love, time to head out?” Ron spoke as he stood up from the couch and brought over his finished cup of tea to the sink for washing later.

“Yes, we best be going. Remember what I said Y/N.” She nudged the book further towards you and got up to pull you in for a warm embrace.

“I’ll see you soon.” You spoke, giving her a warm friendly rub on the back before she went over to the door to get her ballet flats on.

“Y/N, always a pleasure.” Ron came over with a dopey smile, opening his arms to give you a big bear hug.

“Bye Ron.” He then headed over to Hermione, giving her his arm to hold on to as she struggled to get on one of her shoes.

“Only thing I’m good for, it seems.” Everyone laughed as Hermione rolled her eyes and smacked him the chest playfully.

“Oh shut it Ronald,” She jeers before opening the door.

“Bye!” The couple speak in unison as they head out the door, Fred closing it behind them.

“Well, I best be off too. I think I’ve left poor Angelina with the kids long enough.” George let out a sigh, bracing himself for what he knew he would be coming home to.

“Good luck with that mate.” Fred chuckles as he pats his brother on the shoulder.

“Bye love,” George speaks as he comes in for the usual kiss on each cheek with you.

“Bye George. Tell Angie we say hi.”

“Will do.” And then he makes his way out the door, Fred once again closing it behind him. He then turns around and looks down at you, a sly smirk dancing along his lips.

“Alone at last.” He groans before picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder.

“Gah! You big idiot, if you drop me I swear to Godric!” You screech out. Fred let’s out a laugh before abruptly bending his knees, pretending to lose his grip on you. Your hand comes in contact with his back with a loud smack.

“I’m serious Fred, don’t do it!” He chuckles again before plopping you down on one of the couches in the living room. He shifts about so he was now straddling your waist. His hair, which he had been growing out, covered his face slightly. You brought your hand up to caress his light stubble ridden cheek.

He sighs out in contentment and flutters his eyes shut, leaning into your touch and kissing the knuckle of your thumb.

“Hi.” You say sweetly with bright sparkling eyes as you begin to twirl his fiery red locks between your delicate fingers.

“Hi.” His soft voice makes your stomach flutter. To this day you still experienced the same excitement you would get when you first started dating Fred back in school.

“Can we have sex?” He asks out of the blue.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his request. Ever since you tied the knot, the mystery and suspense your sex life once had began to simmer. Being upfront about both of your wants and needs became a part of the beauty of your marriage. No secrets were kept and no childish games were played. If one of you wanted it, all you had to do was ask.

“Only if you carry me, ‘m tired.” You spoke, going back to playing with his hair.

“Works for me.” His face lit up as he lifts you up off of the couch and carries you bridal style up to your shared bedroom.

You had to admit, Hermione was right.

The morning after that visit, you began to read tidbits of the book she gave you.

Not wanting to answer a billion questions, you kept the material out of your husband's sight. You knew he would become super curious and make you explain everything to him, and having just begun learning yourself, you decided it was best to keep it hidden away. Again, this concept was feorgein to the wizarding world so you couldn’t blame him.

It really did work out perfectly. Once you felt that you had gotten the hang of it, every morning after Fred left for the shop, you would set up in the living room and practice your yoga.

It honestly felt awful at first. Your body was so tight and tense that you had almost given up completely after your first time doing it.

But not wanting to throw in the towel so early, you kept it up until you began noticing a slight change in your body. Little things like being able to touch your toes or go into a deep lunge were gratifying and it almost became a bit of a drug to you. Not to mention it helped you sleep like a baby.

Fred was also starting to notice a difference. Knowing you were tight all over, sex usually consisted of fairly mild positions that didn’t put to much of a strain on your body. But that one random night in which you were suddenly able to bring your legs up to wrap around his neck as he pounded into you set off alarms in his head.

You had done something and he was going to get to the bottom of it.

That was a while ago.

Since then, you had fully converted to a life of zen, and yoga was your remedy to all of the worries that plagued your mind. Mornings were becoming easier and easier to face as Fred would shut the door behind him and you would pull out your yoga blocks and mat.

And this morning began like any other. The sun seeped through your white translucent curtains which made Fred groan in irritation. He hated getting up in the morning.

He turned over to face you and slowly opened his eyes, watching you shift about and slowly begin to wake up yourself.

“What time is it?” You spoke, nuzzling your face into his bare chest.

“7:15.” He was able to croak out in his scruffy morning voice.

“Off to work then?” You asked, finally looking up at him with this innocent and soft look that never failed to make him turn into a puddle of emotions.

“Off to work indeed.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair, flopping on to his back to allow himself to wake up more.

“You're going to be late if you don’t get a move on.” He smiled at this before deciding to scoop you up into his arms so you were now laying on your stomach on top of him.

“George can manage for a bit can’t he?” He asked as he moved your crazy morning hair out of your eyes so he could get a better look at you. Your chin rested against his sternum as you rolled your eyes.

“Remember last time you tried to pull that stunt? He threatened to hex you.” Fred winced at the memory.

“Better not then huh?” He grimaces slightly, already knowing the answer to his question.

“Well unless you are willing to have your hair be green for the next year, then yeah I wouldn’t. Now stop stalling and get your arse up!” You say, pinching his hip which makes him arch up slightly underneath your touch.

“If you do that again I may never get out of bed.” His smirk would usually get to you but no one could ever get between you and your yoga sessions. Even Fred Gideon Weasley.

“Nice try Casanova, that isn’t going to work this time,” You lifted the sheets off of both of you and got out of bed to take a shower.

Later that morning, Fred ran over to you, pressing a kiss to your temple before grabbing a orange from the fruit bowl and rushing out the door for work.

You smiled knowingly, waiting for at least a minute before jumping up from your spot on the couch and ran back into your bedroom. Never in your life had you been so excited to wear spandex.

Once your setup was organized, you quickly got into child’s pose, hoping to give your begging joints and muscles a gentle wake up. It felt so good that the groan you emitted covered up the sound of the front door opening and closing.

Fred was back.

He had come from downstairs, having forgotten important paperwork he had to fill out for some possible investors. But the heavy package of documents seemed to have slipped his mind for a second time when he came across your arse stretched out in the bent over position.

His trousers tightened almost instantly and his finger had to come up and tug at his shirt collar that had suddenly become too tight.

Unaware of his presence, you continued your late morning with no care in the world. Feeling satisfied, your body moved up into a downward dog. Your lower legs and ankles gasped out in gratitude as you slowly leaned deeper and deeper into the upside pose.

That’s when you saw him.

Between your legs, you were able to notice a pair of brown dress shoes, one tapping away impatiently. Your eyes went wide and your throat let out a squeak, making you collapse to the floor and quickly turn to look up at your amused and very turned on husband.

“So this is what you’ve been doing when I’m away?” Your cheeks were all flushed, partly from the blood rushing to your face when you were upside down and partly due to Fred looming over you in a dominating stance.

“Fred I-.” You quickly tried to cover your tracks. Explain that it was a stupid thing Hermione told you about and that it didn’t matter.

“Hush love, I’m not mad.” He said through a relaxed chuckle.

“You’re not?”

“How could I? You are so fucking fit babes.” Your cheeks burned stronger and your eyes flitted down to the mat beneath you.

“Hey dove, no need to be shy. I liked what you were doing there. What was it anyway?” He was now crouched in front of you, lightly tracing his thumb against your cheek.

“Yoga, supposed to make you feel less stressed and more flexible.” You could see the gears turning in his head.

“Oh so I have yoga to thank for the amazing shagging we have been having recently then?” His comment made you giggle, making him swoon in return.

“Show me more. I want to watch.” God he knew how to make your stomach twirl. His face was no longer soft, but rather dark and naughty. The lust that was connecting the two of you caused your leggings to dampen. You shifted, now feeling slightly uncomfortable with sitting in your own wetness.

“What, you feeling uncomfy? Here I’ll help.” Before you could respond, he laid you on your back and dragged you towards him along the mat, his hands gripping the back of your thighs.

“Shall I take these off then?” He asked, an eyebrow raised in question. He was playing a game and he knew he had already won.

“Yes please.” Your voice was breathy and soft. He aggressively grabbed the waistband of your legging and tugged them down your legs.

Once they were in a wet mess somewhere in a corner of the living room, he bent down between your legs to pull you in for a kiss. Your hands went up to his hair and your legs wrapped around his torso, slightly grinding up into him.

His lips detached from yours and he looked down to notice your desperate actions.

“Awe love, you all worked up now?” He was obviously teasing you. Hell if anything, he was more bothered then you were, but he was always better at keeping his emotions below the surface.

“Want you to show me what you were doing again. This time in your undies babes.” You nodded urgently and turned yourself around, going into a cow position.

His heavy breathing and warm palms on your arse cheeks made his presence very much known.

You pushed back slightly, hoping he would get the hint.

“Patient, I’ll deal with you in a minute. Want to see more first.” Gaining some power, you got up and pushed him back, indicating for him to move onto the couch, giving him a front row seat to what would become his favourite show.

You pulled out every suggestive pose in the book. At one point, when you were able to look over at his reaction, his tie had come undone along with some buttons and his hand was fisted around his cock.

He looked heavenly sitting there, one arm draped along the top of the couch and his head thrown back in pure pleasure. He should have been back to work by now but neither one of you cared.

“Fuck, keep it up love.” You wanted his finish, not his hand so you stopped your performance and crawled over to him, kneeling between his spread open legs.

Without speaking a single word, your mouth opened wide, your tounge stretched out in a plea for his cum.

“You want me down your throat darling?” You nodded, eyes shut in patience. His groans increased and your palms began to sweat as anticipation grew all through your body.

But nothing came.

One of your eyes opened in confusion only for you to be met with him coming off of the couch and pushing you back into the mat once more. He stretched your legs open wide and moved your thong to the side. There was no time to adjust as his length rammed into you. Instantly gripping his biceps you let out a cry of submission and pleasure.

“Feel so nice and warm. Want you nice and wide for me when I finish yeah? Are you going to finish with me little dove?” You could only let out a wail of acceptance as you sobbed.

His drilling quickened and quickened until you both finally were able to come as one, something you had yet to achieve in your relationship. He let out a surprised laugh at the accomplishment before collapsing on top of you in exhaustion.

“Thank Merlin for yoga.” He spoke through heavy breaths.

#fanfiction #fanfic #fred weasley #smut #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley smut #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom #harry potter #harry potter smut

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goddess-pan · 3 years

Text

Tailor!Reader in Dream SMP

Dsmp x reader prompt; Tailor!Reader in Dream SMP. Credit would be appreciated so more people can find this and make their own things based on it.

Can fully be read as platonic. GN!reader with they/them pronounce as a placeholder so anyone can adapt it however they want. Both general and character specific parts included.

Characters who have a lot written for/about; Eret, Ranboo, Foolish, Tommy, Technoblade, Philza and Michael. Mentioned; Tubbo, Sam Nook, Purpled and Foolish Jr.

This ended up being super long so I’m putting it under the cut in order not to clutter people’s pages. My personal favourite part is Phil’s and Techno’s part. These could be read as headcanons but are still available as a prompt(s) to use for anyone.

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

The reader joining after the doomsday as a time frame in my mind.

The reader helping people patch up their current clothes since most of it got pretty banged up during the doomsday, and it's not like they can just go get a new outfit since quite a few people had just lost all their belongings and only had the clothes on their back. So at first prioritizing helping patch up the current clothing people were wearing and then moving on to making some simple fast to make and easy on the resources clothes for people. Just like basic shirts and shorts/pants, nothing fancy. Then when everyone has at least a couple of different clothes to change to and from starting their own business to sell people more if they wanted. However waving payment if they brought them the materials and what they wanted wasn't overly complicated.

People at first thinking they are just some chump who knows basic sewing or something. A very kind chump, but still a chump. So imagine their surprise when one day they are just walking by the reader's now established tailors and they see these absolutely stunning designs displayed at the windows.

Just like their reactions seeing these beautiful designs they can't help but stare at. I'd imagine some of them just doing a double take when they walk by, someone pressing their face up to the glass trying to see it closer, the braver ones going inside and talking to the reader about their designs and the more anxious and/or shy ones only going inside when the reader isn't there to look at designs closer.

And the reasons they like/are amazed by the designs vary also ! Some just have monkey brain that goes "Pretty. WANT", some who just love the colour and art of the pieces, some who imagine how epic this design or others would look on them, some who love the fashion aspect of it and of course the very small portion who actually know anything about tailoring/sewing and the amount of work that goes into making something intricate.

Some specific character/group interactions I thought of;

Making warm well insulated clothes for people moving to Snowchester so they don't freeze. +A warm cape for Ranboo for the same reason.

Eret being one of the firsts (if not the first) to get himself a fully tailored and customized outfit. Them also being the first and very possibly only person to get a dress or a skirt since most of the other people on the server prefer to wear pants (excluding maid dresses which people might get as joke). The reader crying in joy for getting to design something different for once. And hey if the reader ends up making a few extra ones that she didn't order, but decided to give her anyway it was all just some extra ones they had lying around, never mind the fact that the dresses/skirts are perfectly tailored for Eret and are her style. Just a coincidence, nothing suspicious there. Eret also models for the reader and once he even convinced them to hold a fashion show to showcase some of their work to the whole server. Of course he was the main model presenting the outfits.

At start of the reader beginning to display their designs at their shop Ranboo sees a really cool looking suit on display and his brain just goes "Want." He probably wouldn't be able to buy anything pre-made and be comfortable in it due to his physique. And him having just moved into the arctic and only starting to get settled in, he doesn't have comfortable enough funds for him to get something as expensive as a custom tailored suit AND have enough for any possible rent that he might be required to pay.

Eventually when he gets richer he starts considering getting one but the anxious side of him always ends up winning and he doesn't. However once he finally gets the courage to go commission the suit for himself he doesn't regret it at all. The reader did their best to not overwhelm him and to make it the best possible experience. Just imagining the absolute joy he would feel for having a properly fitting suit that's made just for him, not too short sleeves nor too wide torso and shoulders, just perfect. If he ends up ordering a couple more suits that's between him and the reader. He actually ends up probably being their most frequent and reliable customer.

And we should all know why that is, but let me clarify just in case; Michael.

The reader basically becoming Michael's personal stylist (/hj) . Not only does Ranboo buy a god awful amount of clothes for Michael, the reader also makes some free ones for him. The free ones are things the reader felt like designing since they absolutely adore Michael and the ones Ranboo pays for are commissioned by him. Michael absolutely has the biggest wardrobe in the whole server. The reader learning how to make plushies so Michael could have some more toys, this learning experience including learning to crochet and knit to see what he like best.

Using their newly acquired plush making skills, the reader starts their quest to make some plushies for others after seeing people stare at the plushies wistfully either while they were working on them or seeing Michael with the plushies. People who got them include the minors, their close friends and basically anyone they thought might benefit from them. Some of the ones they made (that I could think of);

Of course a bee for Tubbo, but also throwing in a little ram one as well

Ranboo gets a grass block plush/pillow

Tommy gets a cobblestone block plush and a cow plush. He also later receives a Sam Nook plush while he's working on the hotel

Purpled getting two different sized ufos, one to hold and the other more of a big pillow

Eret definitely gets a flamingo plush

Foolish gets a totem and a gold block plushies

Phil gets crow plush as well these tiny fake coin and gem plushies (the latter causes problems for him which I'll expand upon later)

Techno gets a pig one as well as polar bear one

Back to the individual/group part

The reader just chilling w/ Foolish as a fellow artists. Them talking about both their arts and catching up every time the reader comes to deliver something to Snowchester when Foolish is building the mansion. Just two pretty peaceful artists talking about their passions. I’d imagine Foolish and the reader could relate to each other and their place in the server due to their similar hobbies/jobs as well as their similar time of joining the server. Foolish's first commission from them being an intricate blanket for Foolish Jr so he could have a more comfortable resting place. He may or may not end up receiving that and several other (though less intricate) blankets as well as a tiny shark plush to give to Foolish Jr. Later on when the reader gets better at either knitting or crocheting they end up making a tiny shark jumper with a hood for Foolish Jr as well. Foolish would definitely cry when he sees his tiny shark baby. Any commissions of clothes for himself tend to always take some time due to sheer amount of work needing to be done due to his size so he always makes sure the reader doesn’t already have a lot on their plate and that they know he’s fine with waiting if they need to take a break from it.

Then there's Tommy, who they sometimes teach more about sewing since he already knows some basics. Him probably being the first person aside from Michael they make a plush for, due to him demanding one once he saw the reader making them. Then proceeding to get three plushies in rapid succession. The first being the cobblestone, the second being the cow and the third one being the Sam Nook one. He ends up losing one of them during the prison fiasco and when the reader asks if he'd like a new one they only get the answer of "Don't want to think about what happened and the same one might make me do that". He then promptly receives new clothing (so he isn't wearing the same ones he was wearing in prison) and some extra blankets (for comfort) from the reader.

After Tommy meeting Michael does he use him to scam the reader to make them matching outfits for free? Yes, yes he does. Does it work? Yes, yes it does. Are they bothered by it? Not really, they look adorable in their matching outfits.

The reader being the source for Sam Nook's construction gear/clothes or at least the original patterns for them.

And then there's the arctic boys (minus Ranboo, who will still get mentioned) who are an interesting bunch clothing wise. The first one to commission the reader out of them would be Phil who got the original warm cape for Ranboo but also at the same time commissioned one for himself that would include slits for his wings. Eventually getting to design clothing for him which is always an exciting challenge with his wings. And when Phil finally manages to convince Techno to get something made for himself as well, Techno almost immediately gets addicted to having high quality clothing when they finish their first piece for him. The fun the reader has designing clothes for these boys is immeasurable with their different styles and needs in the clothing. Aside from clothing Techno also commissions them for a pet bed for Steve.

When the boys got their plushies it was adorable but also a very chaotic. Techno giving his pig one to Steve so he wouldn't miss him when he was away from home, but also bringing the polar bear one with him when he couldn't or wasn't allowed to bring Steve with him but still needed comfort. While on Phil's side of things; he was showing his crows the crow plushie joking about he'll replace them if they aren't careful however he made the mistake of showing them the tiny coin and gem plushies as well. I want you to imagine hundreds of crows descending upon this poor fool of a man in the background while the reader is walking away hoping they like their plushies.

The war that ensued the couple following days amongst the crows starts to cool down but the bickering doesn't, every waking moment Phil can feel eyes on him and one or more of the crows coming to complain about the others having had the shiny plushies for too long. He quickly caves under the pressure and commissions more of the tiny shiny treasure plushies. And by more I mean a lot more.

When he finally has enough of the things he goes around distributing them to the crows. Finally a moment of peace, but he still feels like something is staring at him occasionally. Deciding to ignore it since it's finally quiet he goes to makes himself a cup of tea and while waiting for the water to boil he fishes out the few shiny plushies he had saved for himself. The second he does he feels eyes burning into him and now that it's quiet he hears it, quiet muffled snuffles and snorts of discontent. Then he sees what ‘it’ is, it's Techno behind the window looking at the shinies in his hand with such intensity Phil fears for his life (/hj). Phil just sighs deeply before walking over to the window and opening it. For a second Techno looks like a deer in headlights before returning to intensely staring at the shinies in Phil's hand before Phil just dumps the shiny plushies into Techno's hand and closes the window. Happy piglin noises can be heard outside while Phil debates the pros (getting to have shinies himself) and cons (the embarrassment of having to commission even more of the shiny plushies than he already has) of getting new ones from the reader. And in all this the reader has no idea the amount of chaos they inadvertently caused.

And finally; Techno commissioning robes/cloaks for whole the Syndicate to wear in their meetings, because he’s dramatic like that. But since he’s a thoughtful guy, he wants them all to fit the members well and not be uncomfortable to wear so he gets everyone’s measurements. Once he has them all he goes to the reader with the order for the robes, he has all the measurements written down under just Person 1, Person 2 etc. to keep their anonymity and when asked what the robes are for he just tells the reader it’s a book club. When he gets them all and the reader asks no further questions he thinks he’s gotten away with getting some cool robes for the Syndicate with their secrets safe. Little does he know the reader actually now knows all the members in the Syndicate since they can just reference the gotten measurements with everyone’s measurements written down from previous work done by them. Whether the reader thinks it’s some weird cult they all are a part of or just an actual book club people are too embarrassed to admit they are in, is up to interpretation.

#dsmp x reader #dsmp fanfic #dream smp x reader #mcyt x reader #mcyt fanfiction #Pans Writing Prompts #C: Technoblade #C: Ranboo #C: Philza #C: FoolishG #C: Eret #C: TommyInnit #C: Michael_Beloved

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thechekhov · 4 years

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So glad you decided to play Undertale! I think it would really suit you so I’m so happy you got into it! Could I have your thoughts about the game? I would LOVE to hear them. I’m ALL for long essays and rants, that’s my jam, but even just a small review from you would make me ecstatic!

Alright alright alright alright.

I am ecstatic that someone asked because I have a lot to say AS ALWAYS.

I’m gonna try to keep this readable, I swear. Will add pictures in between to keep things interesting.

However, due to the length this will SURELY achieve, AND due to spoilers (and yes, laugh at me all you want, the game has been out for 5 years) I’ll put this under a cut. Read at your own (f)risk.

Metagaming - the game plays YOU

When I first started Undertale, I ‘knew’ these things:

there’s a stabby one with a knife, their name is chara

there’s a flower everyone hates

something something sans something something

and the last, and perhaps most important thing

you can spare your enemies to avoid killing them

The thing is. The THING IS.

I did not realize how pervasive this strategy was. My thought at first was ‘okay, so I don’t have to kill EVERYONE.’

I had no idea that the reality was that I didn’t have to kill anyone.

I’m sure many others have already said this, but Undertale kind of changes the way you think about other games. It forces to you examine simply fighting your way through the RPG by introducing completely non-murder-y ways to resolve issues. This conversation-based combat style is not the first of its kind, I’m sure, but it’s also incredibly well done. It ties into the story, it ties into your decisions.

It ties into your decisions SO MUCH that it changes everything else in the outcome.

Undertale is a game well known for breaking the 4th wall. However, it does so in a strangely eerie, heart-wrenchingly real way. It teaches us that there are other solutions to conflicts - and it really... it really TEACHES us, you know?

Which is funny because to be honest, it took me a while to get the lesson.

(You may already be fully aware of this but yes, my first True Neutral Route was extremely organic. I legitimately had no idea that there was even more than one ending. I was just stumbling about er... killing. Out of habit.)

The beauty of this is that the game drives home that point even more effectively because I was fully unaware of my own bias. I had assumed that some enemies would require killing - DESPITE TORIEL SPECIFICALLY TELLING ME TO TALK TO THEM, and the entire Ruins tutorial being about Mercy. I killed the Dummy on accident (granted, it was due to me pressing the key too fast a few times) and didn’t think much of Toriel’s disapproval. I killed a few monsters because I saw my level was low and decided to automatically grind a little bit.

By the time I got to Toriel, I was still not comfortable with the mechanic. I knew I could Spare her somehow - after all, she was a kind monster, and clearly an important character - but the Spare option didn’t yield promising results the first few times I chose it. I ran out of patience and decided that maybe... maybe it was like pokemon!

Maybe I had to get her health down to a certain level before she would allow me to pass through.

Funny thing though.... you know what happens if you attack Toriel one too many times? Even if she has most of her health left?

Yeah uh... it activates that one-hit-KO thing from No Mercy Route.

So of course, what happened? I hit her one too many times... and killed her! And of course, immediately panicked and reset.

I got back to my previous save, Spared Toriel PROPERLY this time, and walked out of the ruins only to be confronted with my own reliance on the magical ‘redo’ button which was... apparently... not that magical.

Because it WASN’T a clean redo. Flowey apparently remembered.

The idea that the game would KNOW about my previous attempts beyond the save file snapped me out of my casual Undertale playthrough. I realized that something was up - this game was not going to be like the others.

I think it was from this point on that I tried to be more careful, but again - I still hadn’t quite gotten the memo about not killing. I took down a few monsters around Snowdin. And when I got to Papyrus, I grew frustrated about not being able to beat him (I ended up losing several times and coming back to try again) and went off to grind SOME MORE because I figured that could raise my HP and increase my chances of holding off long enough to Spare him.

(The incredible thing about this game is that actually, raising your level gives you only a slight advantage. You can be level 1 and carrying no items, and as long as you’re relatively proficient at dodging the bullet hell style projectiles you will have no issues.)

Anyway, the point is that I realized I could spare the big monsters and did so readily - but I didn’t bother to spare many of the smaller ones.

I figured it didn’t matter.

And then I successfully evaded Undyne, gave her a cup of water, etc... and then went to her house to meet Papyrus, fully expecting her to befriend me anyway.

And you know what happened?

“She said she won’t hang out with a murderer.“

I think that probably hit me the hardest at that point in the game.

I had a bit ‘....oh’ moment at that point because I realized that the game would punish me for killing even the ‘not-important’ civilians of the Underground. It wasn’t about just sparing the ‘boss monsters’. My actions had consequences beyond just the ‘elite’ characters that we all tend to focus on.

Because yes, it made sense. It wasn’t about just Undyne - why WOULD she randomly be my friend after I killed tons of living beings?

From there on, I spared everyone, but didn’t reset. I decided to see how it would unravel.

The thing I want to talk about, which is a little difficult, is that...

It took me that long to learn that kindness was the answer. And that, in itself, ends up being a metaphor.

It’s difficult to be kind if you have not been show how to be.

It’s difficult to change the way you behave (in a game or out of it) if all you know is using other methods.

It was hard enough to spare Toriel before I realized I had to just be very patient and trust that her attacks wouldn’t hit - though at first I thought she would just kill me!

It was hard to avoid Papyrus’ attacks and I had to die several times before I successfully got through it.

It was near impossible to fight Undyne because I legitimately had no idea Fleeing was an option. I struggled for ages at her stage, and I had to ask for help to understand what I could do.

And that’s actually honestly very true to life as well.

Being kind takes risk. Being kind takes effort. And sometimes, being kind means asking others HOW to be kind.

When you choose to be kind, you risk being hurt, and you risk being trapped (Toriel). When you choose to be kind, you need to expand a lot more energy to succeed (Papyrus). When you choose to be kind, you need to sometimes reach out to others to show you how to properly do it (Undyne).

The rest of the playthrough probably went about as you expect. I completed the game, didn’t kill any Boss Monsters, fought to the end and... got that really unsatisfying Neutral Ending which felt strangely bittersweet.

And of course, after I was done, I was prompted to go back and do a proper Pacifist Run. Which I did. I learned about the background of Determination, about Chara and Asriel... and about how everything came to be the way it was.

The thing that gets me the most about this game is how it serves as a direct parallel to how we use videogames. In fact, Undertale is a videogame... about videogames.

Chara appears to be a direct metaphor for the people that use videogames to escape - to cope with whatever happened to them in The Overworld. Bad family life, or bad relationships or whatever we suffer - escapism through games is not, in itself, a new theme.

Chara arrived in Undertale by dropping themself down a hole in the mountain, perhaps even seeking to end their life. They dropped into a world which offered them comfort and companionship, a new family and a new life - but in the end, their nature was destructive because their means to finding a solution inadvertently used other people as fodder. Asgore, Asriel - they used everyone else to complete their plans. It wasn’t about forming connections - it was about Completing the Quest.

I wonder - did Chara even HAVE access to a MERCY option?

Was their world one without the option of sparing someone? Did they only have the choice of acting - and was Mercy in the hands of whoever attacked them? I wonder how difficult it might have been for them. I wonder how that, in itself, shaped their perception of the world.

I wonder if that’s why, during the No Mercy run, people recognize you as Chara? If they come back and attach themselves to your resonating DETERMINATION?

If this is true, was MERCY perhaps created later, brought into existence once Asriel himself made the choice to NOT fight, to turn back and flee, even after being attacked by humans in the Overworld?

(It would be a nice parallel to Asgore DESTROYING the Mercy option when you enter the fight with him...)

...

In the end, I think Undertale is about many things, including video games.

But it’s also hurting - and being hurt.

It’s about how trauma can shape us, how we deal with feeling grief, and loss, and depression - and not being able to feel anything.

It’s about how we focus on goals and use DETERMINATION to keep going - even when whatever it is that’s driving us no longer has any SOUL.

It’s about how our action have consequences, but they also carry the weight of a choice, and how powerful those choices are, and how powerless we feel when we aren’t given a choice - not to fight back, nor show mercy.

I think that’s probably the reason this game resonated with so many people. It really brings something we love about videogames to the forefront - that ability to fight back, to have full and total control of our own lives...

And it also shows us how having that endless loop of repetitive grinding and fighting with zero consequences can lead to an incredible hollowness and make us numb to how we interact with real-life people.

Anyway.

Good game.

#Anonymous #undertale #flowey #toriel #frisk #chekhov draws undertale #chekhov writes a text post

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hyuckshaze · 2 years

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Drowning in the Distance | Chapter XXXI

✩‌ haechan ‌x‌ ‌fem!reader‌ ‌|‌ terminal illness au! series ✩

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ confined to a life of detachment from the only people on earth who understand them, the patients of saint evangeline’s can only watch as those around them drown in themselves, in more ways than one, while they themselves drown, in a much more literal sense. haechan is tired, tired of moving from place to place with no real chance of getting better. y/n is tired too, tired of living solely for the purpose of staying alive. maybe, just maybe, despite the space that separates them, they can guide each other to a life worth living.

WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ ongoing theme of terminal illness (cystic fibrosis); talk of christianity, the afterlife, heaven/hell, death; ongoing mention of surgeries, scars, medications, drug trials etc.

CHAPTER WORD COUNT ⇾‌ 968

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

XXXI | Y/N

✩‌

“What happened to winging it, Y/N? Doing it ‘Yeji Style’?” Karina says, nudging me playfully. I glance up from my detailed itinerary, laughing as I carefully fold it and put it into my back pocket.

“Rome wasn’t built in a day.” I smirk at her and Tzuyu, proud of my Vatican City joke. “Get it? Rome?” Tzuyu laughs, rolling her eyes.

“New lungs, same lame sense of humour. I mean, really, they couldn’t have replaced your, I don’t know, your... funnybox while you were out cold?” I take a deep breath at her words, my lungs effortlessly expanding and contracting. It’s still so wonderful, I can hardly believe it.

These past ten months have been bittersweet, to say the least. My new lungs are amazing, the physical pain of the surgery gradually giving way to a whole new life. My parents are back together, and we’re all finally starting to mend, too. Like my new lungs, it hasn’t fixed everything that’s broken. The losses of Yeji and Jaemin, as well as Renjun, are pains I don’t think I’ll ever fully get over. Just like I know that no matter what, some part of me will never get over Haechan. And that’s okay. The pain reminds me that they were here, that I’m alive. Thanks to Lee Donghyuck I have so much more life to live. So much more time. Aside from his love, it was the greatest gift I could ever receive. And I can’t believe now that I almost didn’t take it.

I thank Mark, the original owner of my lungs, every second of every day. It felt weird at first, having something that belonged so absolutely to another person inside of my body, breathing inside of me, for me, but I adjusted. I met his family a few months after the transplant, allowing them to engulf me the way that they didn’t get to with their son, their brother, to say goodbye. They told me everything about the boy whose lungs were now a part of me. They told me how Mark had been such an awkward kid, but how his laughter lit up the room, how people just gravitated towards him. His parents showed me photos, and we laughed together, my new lungs expelling borrowed air, and we cried together, my new lungs wracking with sobs. Mark had been involved in a car accident, a drunk driver striking his small four-door on the highway after spinning out; a head-on collision at 80 miles an hour. They told me that he’d felt no pain, that it hadn’t hurt. It was instantaneous, just like it had been for Yeji, just like she told me. I told Mark’s parents about Yeji. They said that she sounded like the kind of person Mark would love, that he would have liked a little more spontaneity. Who knows, maybe Mark and Yej will find each other… wherever they are.

I gaze around the airport at the high ceilings and the wide windows, excitement coursing through my veins as we walk to gate 17 for our flight to Rome. A trip I can finally take. To Vatican City and the Sistine Chapel and the first of so many things I want to do and see. It isn’t with Yeji, and I certainly won’t be crossing off that... particular item on Haechan’s bucket list, but just going makes me feel closer to them both. I realize as we walk that I’m setting the pace, Karina and Tzuyu following right behind. I would have keeled over from this much walking a few months ago, but now it feels like I could just keep going and going.

“Everyone in for a picture!” Karina says when we find our gate, holding up her phone as we squeeze together, smiling big for the camera. After the flash we pull apart and I glance down at my phone to see a picture from my mum of my dad eating breakfast, his eggs and bacon in the shape of a sad face with the caption:

MISS YOU ALREADY, Y/N! Send pictures!

I laugh, nudging Karina. She looks down at my phone, eyes scanning over the messages as she snorts.

“Hey, make sure you send that to my parents. They’ll find that absolutely…” My voice trails off as I see that her mouth is open in shock, and she’s staring at Tzuyu.

“What? Did I do that thing with my face again?” Tzuyu asks, sighing loudly. “I don’t know why I keep smiling like that-” Karina holds up her hand to cut her off, her eyes flicking urgently to a big group of people waiting to board their plane, finally focusing on something behind me. Tzuyu inhales sharply. I turn around, following her gaze, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end as my eyes travel down the long line of people.

My heart begins to beat faster when my eyes land on Johnny. And then I know. I know he’s there even before I see him.

Lee Donghyuck.

I stand, frozen in place as he looks up and our eyes lock, the familiar deep brown that I’ve dreamed about for so long almost knocking me off my feet. He’s still sick, portable oxygen slung over his shoulder, his face gaunt and tired. It’s almost a physical pain to see him like this, to feel my lungs filling anew when his can’t.

But then his mouth turns up into that boxy smile, his eyes glittering, and the world melts away. It’s Haechan. It’s Hyuck. It’s really him. He’s sick, but alive. We both are.

I take a deep, unhindered breath and walk over to him, stopping exactly six feet away from him. His eyes are warm as he takes me in, his grin not faltering in the slightest as he scans me from head to toe. No portable oxygen, no difficulty breathing, no nose cannula, no ‘drowning in my own mucus’ as he so poetically described it so long ago.

I’m practically a different Y/N than I was 10 months ago.

Except for one thing.

I let out a breath I didn’t realise I’d been holding, my lips pulling upward. I grin cheekily at him and take just that one more stolen step, until we’re five feet apart.

FIN

✩‌

oh my god. 129,000 words and 11 months later, ditd is finally complete. my heart is as content as it is devastated that it’s finished, i just hope that you all enjoyed the absolute rollercoaster that is this fic, and that you’ve become as emotionally connected with the characters and their personalities as i have. that’s a wrap! until next time...

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starsstruck · 4 years

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cloudbusting; part six.

a classic coffee shop story. harry is a painter that quickly becomes a regular at his neighbourhood cafe, and it just might have something to do with a certain barista. midnight confessions, cozy closing shifts, and new lovers.

pairing: harry x reader warnings: language, mentions of anxiety, sexual content words: 21.3k

series masterlist

art by holly warburton. (i have no vision for the mc of the fic, people in the images of paintings i use are purely because this is how i envision harry’s art to be)

a/n: thank you for everyone’s patience as i wrapped up the series 🥺 the final part is here ! very bittersweet for me, i am both very nervous and excited to share this with everyone ! tina @sunflowers-styles i truly cannot thank you enough for everything you’ve done to help me out ily to the moon ! 💞❤️ as always please share and let me know what you thought ! happy reading to everyone 🍊💞

The last time you spent a long time analyzing paintings was when your mom came to visit you in the city and the two of you went to the MET together.

There were walls and walls of art that you didn’t really know the context to – ranging from the medieval period to the surge of postmodernism – things that you had remembered but didn’t really know what they meant. At the time, your mother had been the one excited to go, but the more hours you spent at the museum, the more you found a liking to the art.

That said, that was the last time you really went to a gallery. That was until this past month.

You didn’t really know how long you had spent inside the small gallery.

Harry lingered by your side for a bit, telling you that if you had any questions about the art or if you wanted him to stay by your side, he could do just that.

You had told him not to worry about you, luckily just as Aleena came by your side and gave you enough of a reason without telling him to go away.

You didn’t want him to go away, you actually did want to stay by his side. But you felt so incredibly guilty and overwhelmed that you knew that you would babble all of this in one breath if you were to stay by his side.

So instead, you stayed at a safe little distance. Walking around the space of the gallery, taking in every small detail of his work. There were sunrises and coffee cups, brushes of fingertips and shut eyelids – everything was so intricate and so beautifully planned that if you weren’t in a room full of people you would probably cry.

You always seemed to be not that far from Harry, once and a while catching his eye from across the room. Time seemed to have flown by, and as the night slowed down and people filtered out, you soon started to realize just how late it had gotten.

Harry had told you after, after what? You felt almost silly, waiting around. You didn’t even know what you were really waiting for.

“My husband is coming to pick me up,” Aleena squeezed your arm from where she stood next to you. “Did you want a ride as well?”

She watched from next to you, as your lips were bit together with nerves that never really seemed to leave your system. After thinking over her offer for a second, you smiled at her. “I’ll be okay, thank you though.”

“Okay,” she returned that warm smile she always had, offering you some ease. “Let me know when you get home, yeah?”

Just as you were nodding and promising that you would get home okay, you saw Harry with his eyes focused on you and a quick pace in his step as he walked towards you.

Nerves bubbled over inside of you, grateful that Aleena hadn’t left just quite yet as he turned to talk to her. “Have you had a good evening?”

Aleena’s eyes drifted over to you, where you stood more or less frozen with your hands woven together, trying to not think too much about how intoxicating it was to be standing close to Harry once more.

“I have – thank you for inviting us,” she shot you another look before turning back to Harry. “Everything looks great.”

Harry nodded with a smile playing on his lips, a little humble nod of his head as he accepted the compliment. He seemed to be about to say something else, when Aleena’s hand gripped your arm once more as she glanced down at her phone. “Oh! My husband is here – I’ve got to head out.”

She pulled you in for a little side hug, waving goodbye. Once again reminded you to let her know when you got home safe and her eyes flicking between you and Harry as she spoke wordless things to you.

As she walked away with her coat hugged around her frame, a small moment of silence passed between you and the honoured artist of the evening before you even dared to look at him again.

“Did you have a chance to look through everything?” Harry directed all of his attention to you once you did look at him. You laced your fingers together nervously and played with the ring on your pinky. The both of you knew that you had seen everything twice, but he needed to say something.

Nodding, you cleared your throat. “I did.”

“And?” He had his own hands fidgeting with each other behind his back as he watched you.

“I love it. All of it.” You offered him a smile. You saw a light pink tint his cheeks, eyes flicking away from yours for a moment.

“Did you have any questions, or…?”

You paused at his question, looking around the emptying room. “I mean just,” you met his gaze once more. “How?” The word was a breath of air past your lips, as you were still so completely incredulous as how he had done all of this. “How – how did you do all this?”

One side of his lip curved higher in a smile, dimple popping as he watched you sheepishly. “Spent a lot of time at the café, sunshine.”

Your heart sped up at the use of the little pet name he had graced you with. “We need to talk. I – I want to talk to you about everything.”

The words were blurted from your mouth, drawing his attention to focus solely on you as his chest visibly expanded with a deep breath. “Yeah, we do.”

“Okay,” you nodded your head, voice dropping. “Good. I – I wasn’t fair to you Harry.”

He was quiet for a moment, nearly a moment too long but he looked at you with that little half smile and gave you a little hum, before nodding his head at painting to your right. “Which was your favourite?”

You were a bit caught off guard from the way he changed to conversation, but you felt yourself melt a bit closer to him. He took a step towards you to stand next to you, both looking at the paintings in your vicinity.

“All of them,” you said quietly, a truthful answer to his questions. “All of them are my favourite.”

You felt his gaze on the side of your face, meeting his eyes when you looked back at him. His lips were drawn into the biggest smile you’d seen from him all night, a breathless laugh emerging from you at the sight of it. “Not too good at making decisions, are you?”

“Not usually,” you hummed, all the ‘I don’t know’s’ that you’ve spoken coming to mind.

“That’s okay,” he murmured quietly, eyes catching with someone as they waved goodbye to him from across the gallery before he looked back at you. “Can I show you my favourites?”

You smiled. “I thought you said that this one –” you pointed to the smaller frame you had both worked on, “– was your favourite.”

“Mhm it is,” he hummed. “But there are just too many of them that I love.”

A small laugh sounded from you, nodding before he motioned for you to follow him. “I really like this one,” he angled his head to a canvas filled with warm tones, brushing of fingers and peels of mandarin oranges littering the surface.

“I started eating so much more citrus fruit after I met you – is that weird to say?” Harry laughed, a bit nervously in your opinion, as you joined his light humour at the confession.

“I don’t think that’s weird,” you told him, observing the painting again.

“Good,” he mumbled, only briefly stopping with you before he started to move across the gallery once more to another painting.

“This was one of the first one’s I made,” he explained, stopping in front of a large work. There were only unmarked figures and bright spots of colour over the frame, warm toned browns and oranges overpowering the entire thing. As you looked closer, you saw the majority of these unknown people were interacting with each other: small shows of affection of held hands and arms over shoulders.

“It was after sitting in your coffee shop for so long the first time. I knew I felt warm, and comfortable there – just didn’t fully realize why yet. Went home that day and started this one.”

You had no idea what to say. He had started these the first time he had gotten coffee at your work? You wanted to wrap yourself in the canvas and live in the peaceful world he had created within the frame.

“I love the way you paint the café, makes me want to live there.”

“Me too,” he laughed, his arm nudging yours lightly to keep guiding you along. It was the first real touch he’d given you all night.

“This was the first time I painted you,” he stopped in front of a medium sized canvas, splashes of blue mixed into his usual warm tones as a seemingly far way figure was mostly turned away from the viewer.

Although there were no distinct features, there was a certain likeness to yourself that you had no idea how Harry had managed to capture. You looked as if you were almost floating above, other figures around you not as detailed or pronounced.

“I didn’t realize…” you spoke, more so to yourself as you leaned in closer towards the thick canvas.

“Me neither,” Harry admitted. “I didn’t realize it was you that I was painting at first. I finished it the day after we kissed.”

He turned back to face you. “I could talk about these,” he motioned to the room around, “all of these, forever. Just want to show you some of my process – how this all came to be.”

“I know I’ve said this already but it is so breathtaking,” you spoke truthfully.

Harry smiled dreamily at you, a small flush of pink on his neck as he nodded at the compliment. “And I know I’ve already said this, but it’s all you.”

Your breath stopped momentarily in your throat, as Harry was looking at you like you were the only person he ever wanted to see.

Though something pulled his attention away for a moment, and he was soon clearing his throat and glancing around the room before he spoke again. “We should be getting out of here soon – it’s just past eleven o’clock.”

Was it? You had no perception of time since you’d step foot inside the room.

“Do you think, um,” your lips were tight between your teeth. “That we could go somewhere, walk around…”

“I’d love that,” Harry responded nearly immediately, the nerves in your stomach settling just the slightest bit.

He needed to grab something from a room in the back before you left, and he was soon by your side with his familiar bag slung over his shoulder as he guided you out the door.

You didn’t know where you were walking really – if there was somewhere he had in mind or if you were mindlessly wandering. You didn’t care that much though, you trusted him, you knew that much.

There was a cold bite in the air, enough to make you shiver as the wind picked up the slightest bit. You were hugging your arms to your chest, feeling almost weird walking with the distance that was between you and Harry.

There were a good five minutes in complete silence, before you couldn’t bear the quiet anymore. You slowed down slightly to catch a quick glance at him, taking a breath.

“I’m so sorry, Harry. You don’t deserve this. I owe you an explanation.”

“What happened?” He asked quietly, your name low in his mouth. “I thought that we were…” he trailed off, letting you finish whatever thought he had.

You sighed, having planned so many things to say to him but at the moment it all left your head. “I got scared. I um, got insecure,” you laughed nervously. “It’s dumb, really.”

“It’s not,” he shook his head. “Your feelings aren’t dumb.”

You had both stopped walking by this point, stopping by a little park near the water and finding an only slightly damp bench to sit on. You kept your eyes focused on the ground, before braving a glance at him and bearing your heart.

“I really started feeling something for you – more than I thought I could in such a short time. It’s kind of… terrifying to me and unknown and just. I found any thread to pull at to let everything fall apart.”

He was quiet, watching you intently with the little furrow between his brow as he listened. “I get … anxious over every fucking thing.” You spoke in a long breath, blinking quickly. “And I let myself – I get in my own way all the time. Overthinking, finding any small reason to pull back, pushing you away when I really didn’t want that.”

“I feel so lost, most of the time,” you kept speaking. “And you’re like, this big ball of light that came into my life and I didn’t… didn’t feel like I deserved it.”

“It’s okay to not know what you want.” Harry said softly, only briefly cutting in.

“Still,” you exhaled. “It doesn��t excuse the way I was so shitty to you, and,” you took another breath. “I didn’t mean what I said last time.”

“I um, I realized that I really like you. And I don’t feel like that very often – there’s a reason that I haven’t ever really been in a long-term serious relationship – I scared myself into thinking that you maybe didn’t feel the same…”

Harry was still quiet from next to you, and you dared to cast him a glance after your confession. He had a smile building on his lips, one that you weren’t expecting to see. “You were worried I didn’t feel the same?”

“Well…”

“Ate you out on the floor of my studio – don’t just do that with anyone.” He spoke softly. You felt yourself warm at the way he spoke, eyes briefly tracing the pattern of leaves splattered across the ground. “Spent all my free time in your café, all my free time just bugging you while you were working. Painted an entire show just about you –”

He cut himself off, taking a breath as he quietly murmured your name, getting you to meet his eyes again. “Haven’t been able to get you out of my head since the moment I met you.”

Harry fell quiet for a moment again. “I forgive you – and I hope that you can talk to me about everything. Anything that makes you anxious, any reason you doubt yourself – I’m here for you.”

Your heart grew ten times in your chest. “I don’t deserve you…”

“You really need to stop doubting yourself,” his tone was light, eyebrows raised as he watched you with a smile pulling at his lips. “You deserve everything.”

“Harry –” you inhale deeply, insides feeling warm and fuzzy at his confessions. “Thank you. For everything. I’ve never met anyone like you.”

Again, he fell quiet with his eyes flicking around the two of you before he leant back on the bench a slightest bit. “You never answered my question, you know.”

“What question?” Your confusion was clear on your face.

“From that night – after we painted,” he paused, watching your brows fall closer together in your confusion. “I asked if you thought things happened for a reason.”

“Oh,” you said quietly, the memory of the question barely there. “Why’d you ask?”

“I like to think that things happen for a reason,” he mused, not really answering your question either. “Not that we’re all born with a written path, but that you stumble upon people and opportunities based off of the decisions you make.”

“What do you mean?”

“Can’t really put it into words,” Harry mumbled, shrugging his shoulders. “It’s like because of the decisions you make, it kind of … guides you in a certain way.”

You thought over his words, slowly nodding. You agreed that you didn’t think everything happened for a reason, with a planned path for everyone. Though you had never really thought about it in the way that Harry had just described it, and you found yourself agreeing with him.

He kept speaking in your silence. “Like, you don’t have a planned path for you but maybe just a small one. One that changes at every decision and turn in your life.”

“I like that,” you quietly spoke, bottom lip between your teeth.

“Like…” his hesitation made you look up at him. His expression was light, small crinkle in his eyes that held a smile, while he rubbed his thumb over his bottom lip.

“Like how I walked into your coffee shop because I like the colour tangerine, and then I met you.”

His words made your heart leap in your chest. Any thought left your head, the only thing coming out of your mouth was a breathy puff of air.

“I remember thinking,” he kept speaking, confessions tumbling from his lips. “That it was a bit of a silly name ‘Tangerine Coffee’, made me curious. But… it brought me to you.”

You didn’t know how to properly respond, no one ever telling you anything of the sorts that made you feel the way you did – that made you feel like you could give yourself completely to this person without a doubt in your mind. You wanted to wrap your arms around him and kiss him senseless, until you were both gasping for air.

“That’s,” you cut yourself off, starting over again. “Harry –”

“Listen,” he rushed. “I like you, so much so if I haven’t made that obvious yet. I want you, in any way you’d have me.”

Your legs felt like they melted into puddles, taking a breath before telling him. “I want you too – I never wanted you to go anywhere.”

His expression softened, and you saw his hands lace together with his fingertips fidgeting with each other as if he wanted to reach out to you but was restraining himself. “I hope that I make you good, I don’t want you to feel afraid – about anything.”

His words sat heavy in your head. You once again found yourself with so much you wanted to say to him and return his affections but didn’t find the words to say them.

“Do you think we were meant to meet?” You said instead, voice slow as you tried not to let your breath stop in your chest.

“I don’t know,” he spoke honestly. “But I know that now that I have, I can’t imagine my life without you.”

His words warmed your heart. “Me neither.”

Now that you had started, you couldn’t stop. “Harry I can’t apologize enough for how I panicked like I did. With past relationships, they’ve never really gone anywhere – I never really felt anything. Nothing past initial interest or attraction. And then with you… I didn’t realize what I was feeling and then when I did, I let it fall apart.”

A burst of wind passed through you again, and as you hugged your arms around your chest tighter, Harry’s shoulder pressed against yours.

“I’ve only really been in one serious relationship,” Harry started. “When I was twenty-one. Lasted for a couple years, but the longer it went on the more I realized it was more so just… easy to stay together. I had just left school, and wanted to move out here. She didn’t – it didn’t end really well.”

“I moved out here, started over. Felt like nothing was really going to ever work out, but slowly it does. It’s odd – when you’re in your mid-twenties you feel like you need to figure out how you’re going to spend the rest of your life – as if you don’t have your entire life. Looking back, I was much more hurt, and lost, than I realized. I thought… that I wouldn’t feel that strongly for anyone again. But I’ve realized that that can easily change…”

His words calmed you. You held your tongue for a second, before asking. “What about Rory?”

Harry laughed. “Why do you ask?”

You were nearly embarrassed about the confession. “I don’t know. I was… jealous of someone who gets to know you like that.”

“You’ve got nothing to be jealous about, sunshine.” He said, tone light. “We were just friends who dated and it didn’t work out. I’ve seen her, I don’t know, three times in the past year.”

“Oh…” you softly said.

“When I say that things can quickly change, I mean how quickly I started to like you. What I’m trying to say is that… it’s okay if it takes you a few tries.”

He made butterflies erupt in your stomach as you told him. “I also thought I could never, um, like someone as much as I have.”

He turned his head so that his gaze never lifted from yours. “Can’t get enough of hearing you say that.”

You held his gaze, watching the quirk in his lips as he brought a hand up to your cheek. You hadn’t realized the way you had missed his touch, until the few quick brushes that night. Feeling his bare skin against yours again just felt right.

Turning your face slightly while you moved closer towards him, you quickly glanced at his pretty pink lips. You didn’t really know why you felt nervous about kissing him again, but after telling yourself a quick fuck it, you leant forward until your mouth pressed over his.

His hand easily slid from your cheek to wrap around the back of your neck, drawing you in closer as his lips easily accepted your kiss. You felt yourself both calm down and erupt in excitement as you kissed again.

Although, the moment found itself short-lived.

The first drops of rain always seemed anticipated. First a wet spot on the cement, and then a drop hit your nose.

The third drop to hit you is when you start to realize that you are outside without a cover, without an umbrella.

“Fuck,” Harry muttered, head titled up as he glanced at the drops falling from the sky. His hand retreated from you, disappearing into his big ivory tote bag and pulling out a folded black umbrella. “Don’t have an umbrella, do you?”

“No,” you brought a hand to cover your head, a makeshift cover for yourself as the rain picked up. You couldn’t help but laugh slightly, at the interruption of your moment.

“Here,” he unfolded the barrier against the rain, lifting it up over both of your heads. Extending his bent arm that was holding the handle out to you, silently inviting you to loop you own arm in with his.

Accepting the invitation, taking a step closer to him as your side pressed against his. Your arms tightly woven together, he tugged on your arm lightly as he glanced at you under the umbrella.

“I really don’t want to call it a night…”

“Did you want to,” he continued, pausing as he bit his smile down. “Come back to mine? To keep talking,” he quickly added. “We can have some tea if you’d like, warm you up.”

You laughed lightly, nudging him with your hip. You felt a rush of tingles down your spine, a rush of excitement rather than a rush of anxiety. “I’d like that.”

There was something so cheesy about walking arm in arm under the umbrella with someone in the rain, with someone who liked you and you liked just as much. Something so cheesy, something that would happen to Bridget Jones, something so small that you were so overjoyed about having that you squeezed his arm just a bit tighter.

You had no idea what time it was, and you didn’t care. Getting on the train together, watching Harry under the harsh fluorescents as he sat next to you with his thigh pressed against yours.

He was glancing at you from the corner of his eye, a light smile seemingly permanently etched across his lips as he watched you yawn. “Tired?”

“Not really,” you said truthfully. “Well maybe a bit, but not tired tired. Just relaxed.”

He let out a sigh, smiling with you. “Me too.”

The journey wasn’t very long. Sharing the umbrella once more as you walked side by side to his place, feet splashing in the growing puddles that lined the sidewalk. Part of you always loved the city at night when it rained – everything was still so bright as the lights reflected off the wet road.

It wasn’t long until you were walking up to the familiar building, letting Harry lead you up the stairs and into the warmth. His place was just as you remembered, seemingly cozier at night with the warm dim lighting coming from his lamps. You followed him inside, kicking off your shoes and heading to the kitchen with him.

Eyes darting around his place to take in the place as you’d only really seen half the place last time while Harry walked to his kitchen, part of you eagerness to have a look around also due to the little cat that you hadn’t gotten out of your head.

“Oh!” Exclaiming maybe a bit too loudly in the otherwise quiet studio, at the sight of the little calico that was lightly running towards the two of you. “Where have you been hiding?”

Bending down to trace your fingertips over her back, reveling in the way she rubbed her head over your leg. “You’re just a little baby,” you cooed, ecstatic when she let you pick her up. Holding her small frame against your chest, watching her enjoy the way you dragged your nails behind her ears.

“Not so much a baby anymore – she’s nearly ten,” Harry chuckled near you, grabbing his electric kettle and bringing it over to the sink to fill with water.

“Really?” You directed your question to Harry, not his cat. “She’s so small, I thought she was a kitten.”

He smiled. “She’s just little. Actually is a bit of an old lady.”

“No,” you looked back down at the little calico. “You’re young at heart, aren’t you?”

Harry laughed at your conversation with his cat, turning on the kettle and pulling out two mugs from the cupboard. “When’s her birthday?” You continued with your questioning, lightly placing her back down on the ground when she started to squirm.

“Not too sure,” he hummed, leaning back against the counter to face you. “She was a stray – there are ways you can test all that but why go through the trouble, you know? Fairly certain of her age and I like to think her birthday is in the fall.”

“I get that,” you agreed. “How long have you had her for?”

“About three years now,” he said, as the kettle got louder. “She’s fairly independent, likes to do her own thing but also loves attention.”

“Have you ever painted her?”

Harry laughed, shaking his head. “I’ve tried a few times, yeah. Could never quite capture her though, I don’t know. I’m bound to try again soon, though.”

“Would love to see that,” you hummed. The click of the electric kettle letting you know it was done, and Harry turned to riffle through another cupboard.

You watched him pull out two little tea bags, placing them in the mugs and twisting the strings around the handle of the mugs. You smiled to yourself, noticing he did the same thing you did when you made tea at work.

He handed you one of the mugs, leading you over to the flower-patterned couch he had on the adjacent living room. You held the mugs between both hands, the hot ceramic instantly warming you.

Easily falling back into conversation with him, talking until the tea grew cold and forgotten by the edge of the coffee table.

“Your coworker, I realize I don’t know her name – the one you brought to the show with you tonight.” Harry asked, after he told about the various times he had come into your work a few months ago but you were not there.

“Aleena,” you told him, smile on your lips.

“Yes, Aleena. She would always bring you up when I came in and you weren’t there. Somehow – she always talked about you with me.”

Small groan leaving your mouth, recalling the various conversations you’d had with her about Harry. “That sounds like her,” you warmed under his light stare. “I did talk about you with her…”

He shuffled on the couch, eyebrows raised with a silly little grin on his lips. “You did?”

“Well….yeah I did. Talked about you a lot too – even with my brother out of all people and I never tell him anything.”

“You did?” He pressed, moving a bit closer to you as his hand nudged over your forearm. You glanced away from him, shaking your head with a smile. “Didn’t realize you had it that bad for me.”

“Shut up,” you tried to push him away, not doing a good job of it and not really caring all that much.

“Only teasing,” he hummed happily. “Like getting you flustered.”

You looked back towards him, trying your best to bite away the smile growing at your lips as he did often in fact, make you flustered.

“Are you not very close with your brother?” He asked after a moment, voice soft once more.

You shrugged. “I don’t know. We’re just … very different people I guess. I feel bad sometimes, that we’re not really close, but I don’t think we have a bad relationship or anything.”

“That’s okay,” he said, hand on your forearm now tracing light patterns over your exposed skin, with the sleeve of your sweater pushed up.

“We’ve tried a bit harder in the past couple of years, especially since my parents split. We both saw how it affected them.”

“Affected how?”

“Well like my mom specifically just… seemed so heartbroken for a long time. Even if she wanted the divorce just as much. It’s hard, seeing a parent like that.”

He nodded, eyes focused on the movement of his fingers of your arm. The little calico cat had made its way onto the couch as well, demanding your attention for a moment as she tentatively placed a paw over your bent knee.

“The period of grief,” Harry started after a moment, pulling your attention away from the cat that was resting by your leg. “Any kind of grief – it’s hard but it’s important, you know?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well like – it shapes you. Like I wouldn’t want to go back to the person I was before. It’s good to let yourself look back, it helps you move forward. But you should be focused on only moving forward, if that makes sense.”

You didn’t like the idea of Harry having been in pain.

“Yeah that makes sense,” you nodded after a moment.

He continued. “I think I do that – when things aren’t going well I think back to a time that was better in the past, even if it wasn’t really that much better.”

“I hope you feel happy now.”

He glanced back at you, meeting your eyes. “How could I not?”

A moment passed. A moment where if there wasn’t a cat sitting between you, you were sure that you would topple over him and make sure to never leave him. And with the way he was looking at you, you were certain he was thinking the same thing.

“I don’t mean –” he paused, fingertips still dancing over your forearm. “Did you want to stay the night? It’s late and raining, and well, you can if you’d like.”

You thought it over for barely a second, every fibre in your body jumping at the suggestion. He was right that it was late, it was likely past midnight. It’s not that you lived that far off, but it would be a small pain to have to walk home in the downpour.

And plus, you very much liked the possibility of ending up cozied up with Harry under the warm covers.

With a short nod and the inside of your lip between your teeth, you glanced at him. “If it’s not too much trouble…”

He nearly sprang off the couch. Holding out a hand to you, you let your palm fall against his as you stood to your feet. He brought you around the corner, to where his bed sat in the back of the studio. Just like the rest of his place, it was warm and inviting.

A dark brown dresser next to a closet had some clothes sitting on top of it, that he quickly grabbed and put them back in their place inside one of the drawers. The tones all around you were deep browns and oranges making you feel cozier just by being in the secluded space. You were busy looking around, at the little images he had on the walls and over the pictures you assumed were of his friends and family.

“Did you need something to change into?” His voice brought your attention back to him, where he was still standing by the dresser and digging through one of the drawers. You glanced down at your sweater covered dress.

“Yes please,” you smiled. “Anything is fine, a shirt or maybe a hoodie? I get cold easily...” you trailed off lightly, eyes meeting his and his expression was the cause for your loss of words.

You didn’t really know why, but he just looked so soft and pretty and so happy to have you with him it was leaving you for a slight loss of words.

He nodded, turning away from you again as he looked for something for you.

“Is this good?” After a second, he passed you a light gray sweatshirt, the fabric soft under your fingertips.

“Should be,” you spoke softly, unfolding the material. You placed it on the edge of the mattress beside you, eyes meeting his for one more brief second before turning away from him completely so that your back faced him.

As if some sense of privacy since you weren’t facing him, although you knew that wasn’t the case as you could feel the burn of his gaze on your back. Biting away a smile even though he couldn’t see the little smirk dancing on your lips, you tugged off your heavy sweater and let it drop next to the sweatshirt on the bed.

Next was the dress, fingers pulling at the zipper until the material was loose enough to fall off your form. Leaving you in nothing but your navy-blue underwear that left not much of your bum covered, you could feel the hot stare Harry had on your bare back as he remained quiet behind you.

Grabbing the sweatshirt from the bed, pulling the thick fabric over your head in a quick motion and settled it around you until your arms were through the sleeves and the bottom hem covered just enough. It smelled like him, it wrapped around you so nicely you didn’t think you’d want to take it off.

Turning around, you lifted your eyes until they landed on Harry’s face. His gaze shot up to yours, before dropping down once again as he made no move to hide the way he took in your appearance in his baggy sweatshirt.

“Right,” he coughed. If you squinted, you could make out the little red tint on his neck, even in the dim light. “I think I have a spare toothbrush somewhere.”

He led you to the small washroom, walking through the open door and bent down to search in the cupboard that sat under the sink while you watched from the doorframe.

With a small ‘aha’ muttered past his lips, he rose to stand in front of you with a green toothbrush in its cardboard and plastic packaging. He wordlessly opened it for you, tearing the cardboard from the back until the brush was free and ready for you to use.

“Did you need anything else?” He murmured, shifting forward so that he was practically pressed against you in the doorway of the washroom.

Wordlessly shaking your head, your gaze locked with his until he stepped past you so that you could further enter the room and shut the door.

You easily found his toothpaste next to his brush that sat in a little ceramic cup on the counter. After brushing your teeth, you casually searched through his drawers, picking up miscellaneous objects and placing them back in their spots until you found a little pot of moisturizer.

Washing your face and patting small dots of the cream just around your eyes, you glanced over the rest of his possessions in the washroom with a little casual snoop.

The countertop had a few items spread across the surface; a cologne that you brought under your nose, some hair styling product, a little bottle of light purple nail polish, and a little dish that had a couple rings sitting in it.

Realizing you were probably taking a bit too long, you shot one last glance in the mirror before heading out from the bathroom.

You found Harry picking up some stray clothes from on top of his dresser and folding them back into the drawers. He turned around at the sound of your footsteps on the floor, lips turning into a smile as you neared him.

“Good?” He checked, as your fingertips wove nervously together.

“Yes,” grinning back at him, “thank you.”

His turn in the washroom, you didn’t know what to do while you waited. Obviously sliding into bed was the answer, but for whatever reason you felt it best to wait for him to come back. Instead, you walked around the space near his bed, looking at various things he had on the walls and resting on his shelves.

Head tilting to read the titles of the books sitting on his shelf, finding primarily books on artists – some you had heard of but most you hadn’t. Fingertips skimming over the spines of the books, plucking a thin one with a title you were fairly sure was in French. Delicately flipping through the pages, pages of small bits of texts surrounded with little black and white drawings. Everything was in the foreign language to you, though you stopped on a page when you caught the little scribble of English words on the page.

“…they go even farther perhaps, towards the unknown, into the light and joy.”

You didn’t know what to make of it, not having the context of what the rest of the words were saying but you simply enjoyed this phrase paired with the sketches of a couple and dark waters.

“What ya’ looking at?” His voice behind you caught you a bit off guard, feeling as if you had been caught doing something you weren’t supposed to do.

Turning around, you held up the book still in your hands. “Sorry,” you weren’t sure why you were apologizing. “Was just looking at your books.”

Harry walked over to where you were standing, taking a look at the book that you held. “It’s nice, no?” He hummed, taking hold of the book when you extended it out to him. “It was a gift – feels a bit lost on me though since I haven’t had the time to flip through and translate everything. I do really like these artists though.”

“Who wrote it?”

“An artist from the twentieth century – or actually parts of it were written with their partner too. It’s essentially all about the story of their love. I’ve looked up translations for a few things here and there, this one here,” he pointed to the page you’d opened it on. “I really like it.”

You nodded with a small hum, squinting to re read the words on the page once more.

“It’s just – beautiful, y’know? Going into the unknown, with the one you love.”

Still staring at the book in his hands thinking that he was going to speak again, you looked up at him when a silence fell through the room. He was already looking at you, standing closer than you’d previously realized. He had his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes clear as they seemed to scan your every thought.

Something about standing in a warm cozy room while the rain poured outside, reading stories of love with a man who had recently declared his affections for you. Something about it that made a warmth spread through your chest, and a peace that you had never felt settle over you.

“Did you want to go to bed?” The question was quiet, Harry’s voice subtly cracking is if he hadn’t used it in a while.

You were on the verge of making a joke about him being presumptuous, but you were glad that you held it in as a part of you revelled in the way that a thick layer of anticipation seemed to settle in the air around the two of you.

“Yeah, I do,” was all you said instead.

Harry moved first, placing the book back on the shelf where you’d found it, and made his way over to the bed that sat on the other side of the room. You had only just noticed that he’d changed since you last saw him, long legs nearly bare as his bottom half was only covered by a pair of briefs and a teeshirt over his chest.

With his back turned to you as he turned off the large lamp on the other side of the room, the only source of light now coming from the dim lamp on the bedside table. You couldn’t help the way your eyes dropped to his backside, black fabric hugging over the curve of his ass – impossibly attracted to the man before you.

Eyes falling to a newly exposed tattoo to you as he turned around, not missing the slight bulge in his front before your eyes darted back up to meet his gaze. He had obviously caught you staring, a smirk on his lips that he was doing a terrible job of hiding.

He wordlessly walked over to the edge of his bed, pulling up the covers before sliding his legs over the mattress and settling in underneath the duvet. He looked at you expectantly, patting the spot next to him with his palm smoothing over the pillow.

Silently following his motions, lifting bare legs over the mattress to fall in opposite of him. One of your legs hit his under the heavy blanket; neither of you moved. You were on your side, daring to face him as he peered down at you.

You weren’t close together, but you weren’t that far away either. If you reached out you could easily brush your hand across his cheek, and he could lift his arm around you to pull you in closer. A thick beat of silence passed, gaze only breaking with the occasional blink of an eyelid.

You took a step into unknown waters. “I’ve never felt so comfortable anywhere or… with anyone. So, thank you.”

His lips curved in a dreamy smile. “Why’re you thanking me?”

“Just,” you bit your lips together, voice quieter than the pouring rain. “For making me feel that way.”

“’Course,” the word was so quiet, deep from his chest. “I intend to make you feel all kinds of good things.”

A breathy laugh at his words, paired with a little shake of your head. Though you felt the eruption of butterflies through your stomach, they weren’t nerves and rather were warming your body and making you feel even better than before.

“I’m serious!” He urged at your reaction to the slight innuendo. Lifting himself so that his elbow was tucked under to hold himself up to hover closer to you, leaning forward to press a loud kiss to the side of your forehead.

Turning your head at the action, faces mere inches apart. Letting your eyes dance over the line of his nose, to the dip of his cupid’s bow, until they were tracing the soft curves of his lips.

“You make me feel the same, for the record,” his voice had dropped to a whisper, as you watched his mouth form the words.

Momentarily realizing that you had only gotten one quick taste of his lips that night, that it had been weeks since you’d properly kissed him, you were overcome with the strong urge to kiss him until neither of you could breathe.

Your hand moved on its own accord, reaching across the miniscule space between you until your upper body was somewhat twisting so that you could thread your fingers through Harry’s hair. A light touch against him, curls slipping between your fingers as you saw him lean into your hand.

He seemed to be thinking the same thing as you, as his hand raised to hold a light grip of your forearm and pulled himself closer to you. Leaning down until his nose brushed over your cheek, you let your eyes shut while your mouth parted open.

You raised your head off the pillow, lips puckering and landing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. The hand in his hair was pulling him closer to you as he captured your mouth with his. A feather light touch of smooth lips on top of yours, his hand on your arm sliding until it slipped down to rest over your hip. He was pulling you up with a light pressure to draw you in closer, until you were fully resting on your side as well.

“Sunshine,” Harry called against your lips, a quiet hum in his voice. His forehead rested against yours, while you folded your legs towards him to rest more comfortably as you laid propped up on your side.

Then he kissed you, making you forget any fear you’d ever had. His lips moved with yours, not so much with hunger but with desire, wanting nothing more than to feel as close to you as possible. You felt him lick over your lips, easily complying to him as your tongues met with hot need.

His hands were quickly on you, one trailing over your cheek to hold you firmly over your jaw while the other landed against your middle to tug you over towards him. Mouths parting with a hot breath, barely a second apart before they were pressing messily against one another again.

He was pulling quiet gasps from the back of your throat, swallowing every noise you made against him to hold them to memory. Your hand in his hair scratched along his scalp, freely pulling at the soft strands and repeating the action when you felt his chest vibrate with a muted moan.

While your swollen lips pressed hotly together, you felt his hand slide over your hip, resting heavy there for a second with fingertips treading lightly as if considering whether or not to venture lower. Apparently deciding a yes when you whimpered over his lips, his palm smoothed over the curve of your bum and gripped tightly into the skin, the action causing your lower half to push further against him with need.

Tense air of desire surrounded the two of you, actions growing heated while your breathing grew heavier. His hand couldn’t stay in one place, pinching your skin between his fingers as it moved down to your bare thigh. He hooked it in the fold of your knee and pulled your leg up over his own so that you were partially over top of him.

You let out a whine at the feeling of his touch on you, his hand resting where it was for a moment before trailing up north once more. He pushed his palm against the curve of your ass, your hips rubbing onto his thigh in a small motion.

Your leg over him was tightening around his hips as if holding him in place, while his fingertips played with the edge of your underwear and snapped the band over your hip before they were digging into your skin again.

Your mouths parted for a moment, your tongue tenderly licking over his lips as he raised his head towards you to search for more. A soft moan was heard from the back of his throat when your lips fell from his mouth and moved down his jaw, starting a series of feather light touches before your teeth nipped the skin under his earlobe.

His hand smoothed over the top of your hip, edging up under your sweatshirt and over the small of your back. He was gripping you tighter as you kissed down his neck, licking over the sensitive skin. You felt his stomach clench under you, a whimper of your name past his lips when your nails dug into his scalp.

“God, you’re unreal,” Harry panted from above you. “Make me feel – like never before –”

He cut himself off with a groan, while you moved one of your hands along his chest to venture lower and lower with your nails scratching over the fabric of his shirt. You were kissing up the column of his neck, edging the fabric of his shirt up until your fingers met his bare skin.

His lips slid along your temple, own hand leaving from under your sweatshirt and taking a light grasp of your hand just as your fingers edged around his hips and closer to the elastic of his briefs.

“I…” he paused, stopping your hand while you looked up at him in his hesitation. “Fuck I’m sorry – I can’t now, if that’s okay,” he groaned low against you. You saw him squeeze his eye shut, blinking a few times before meeting your eyes.

“I want you,” his voice was raw, and he pushed his hips against yours to accentuate his point as you felt his hardening length through his clothes. “You have no idea how badly I want you. It’s just – been such a long day – I wanna be able to give you everything you need.”

His words sent a rush down your spine, eliciting a little unintentional whine from your throat as you rested your chin on his shoulder and watched him speak. “And ‘m worried I can’t right now –”

A yawn interrupted him and stretched out his jaw, as if his words brought the display of tiredness along.

“Fuck,” he laughed through the yawn. You pushed yourself up a bit, face hovering close to his with a smile pulling at the corner of your lips. “See? I don’t want to fall asleep on you.”

You kissed his jaw, with a quiet whisper. “It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, watching you shake with a little laugh. “I… I’ve never wanted anyone more,” he whispered hotly against you. “I just…”

“No need to be sorry,” you murmured, capturing his mouth as your teeth grabbed his bottom lip and your hand cupped the side of his face. When you pulled away from his mouth, you nearly missed the small breath of a whine that was sound from the back of his throat.

Brushing your thumb over his cheekbone, you moved your head just far enough away so that his features weren’t blurry to you anymore, while you kept your eyes locked with his. “And I really want you too.”

The weight of his hand left your waist, skin feeling cold without it but instead he wrapped it around the back of your neck, pulling you back in. His fingertips scratched lightly over your scalp, a soft contrast to the way his lips so greedily caught yours.

“You have me,” he whispered, teeth clashing when he spoke. “All of me.”

A whimper echoed past your lips at his words; at the feeling of his mouth on yours, and the way his legs tangled between your own. Mouths slowing against each other, a nearly lazy kiss while you both tried to catch your breaths once more.

You took a breath, wanting to give him as much as he was giving you but not finding the words.

“We can… we can just kiss, yeah? I don’t want to stop.” You mumbled against his mouth while his hand smoothed over your cheek.

“Yes,” he moaned into your mouth. “Just want to hold you close, and…” he never finished his sentence, true to his word and held you close against him and kissed you deeply.

Continuing like that for you didn’t know how long, quiet moans and heavy breaths being the only sounds in the room, hands still gripping each other tightly.

After a while, you felt a small bit of exhaust yourself. The light movements of Harry’s hand running over your arm and up to your neck were starting to calm you down in a way that had your eyelids growing heavy.

Lips slowing over his, you planted lazy kisses over the corner of his mouth and over his chin, while he cupped your jaw to gaze down at you. Eventually, your lips brushed over the column of his neck until you rested your head over his shoulder with a content hum.

Both with swollen lips and heavy eyes, you lay quietly together as sleep slowly took over. His hand kept moving in soothing motions from the curve of your shoulder to the bottom of your scalp, the slow and gentle motions starting to lull you to sleep.

“Long day for you too,” he hummed quietly, words lacing together and his chest vibrated from under you. “You worked today, no?”

Gently parting your eyes at his words, titling your head up so that you could look up at him. “How did you know I worked today?”

A light smile grew on his lips when his eyes met yours, his lips skimmed over your forehead. “Coffee lingers on you.”

“You can smell it?” you giggled. You could always smell it on your hands, your clothes and your hair. But you never knew anyone else noticed.

“Mm I can,” he inhaled exaggeratedly. “Smells good, sunshine.”

You turned your head towards him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder with a laugh. “I’m glad.”

Resting your head against his shoulder, lips puckering to press a soft kiss over his neck before you settled back down over him with a little hum as your eyes fell shut.

You started to slip your leg off of his, but a hand on your thigh quickly stopped you to keep you in place. “Stay right here.” The words were whispered over your forehead, quiet command that had you easily complying.

A peaceful silence fell over the two of you, the only sound coming from the small breaths leaving the two of you. The patter of the rain seemed to have quieted down, and part of you secretly hoped that it would pick back up soon so that you could lounge around the following day without any guilt.

The feeling of his chest that rose and fell under you, paired with the steady beating of his heart and the soft strokes of his fingertips against your skin was soothing you in a way you had never known. “Goodnight Harry.”

“’Night, sunshine.” His voice was barely audible, fingers gripping you just a bit tighter as sleep seeped through your body, an overwhelming sense of peace surrounding you as you rested pressed together.

The heavy rain was the first thing that you recognized in the early morning. The second thing you felt was the warmth all around you; there was the heavy duvet paired with the familiar and calming noise of a heater going off. The third thing you noticed was the man pressed against you, a thigh between your legs and a hand wrapped around your middle.

You peaked your eyes open, trying to gage what time it was simply from the blinds that had never been closed. The dark grey – nearly black – sky wasn’t giving you too much of an indication but you knew it had to be very early morning.

You were almost in the same position that you had fallen asleep in: on your stomach with your head over Harry’s arm and your hand wrapped around him. You gently moved your head, tilting it up to look up at the presumed still sleeping man by your side. Harry looked so peaceful, eyes shut and lips only slightly parted.

You took a moment to think over everything in the past twelve hours, everything from the night before that had you positively melting in the best way possible.

With the calm that surrounded you, you jolted in his grasp when suddenly he shuffled and his raspy voice sounded in the air. “Morning,”

Head lifting a bit more to get a better view of him, you watched him turn his face as well so that he could peer down at you. “Did I wake you?”

“Been in and out of sleep,” he hummed, his tired eyes glowing when he met your gaze. “You’re awake early.”

“What time is it?” You yawned, moving your hand from where it rested on his chest to rub at your eyes.

“Just past six-thirty,” his eyes never left you, as you felt his hand over your sweatshirt move in small circles.

“I’m used to waking up early – and hey you’re up early too.” The small hint of a laugh sounded through your tone and you felt yourself waking up.

You saw his eyebrows furrow. “Do you have to get to work?”

“No,” you shook your head, content smile gracing your lips at the reminder that you in fact did not have to go into work. “I’m off today.”

The crease in his brow disappeared, a mirror of your smile on his own mouth. “The whole day?”

“The whole day,” you confirmed.

He shifted, keeping you close while he rolled over to his side and helped you do the same until you were both lying facing each other. Limbs were still tangled, one of his hands keeping a tight grip around your back and he had a leg still between your own. Your arm was reached between the two of you, moving to brush along his neck while the other one rested underneath your head.

“And any other plans for the day?”

“None,” your voice dropped back down to a whisper, his gaze intent on yours as you felt his hand slide lower over your back. “What about you?”

“None,” he mirrored, voice still carrying a slight rasp. Silence fell over you again, this time only the rain against the window filling in the gaps.

You were about to speak again, when a slight move interrupted you. A slight move of his leg between yours that caught you off guard when his thigh brushed over your covered centre in a motion that could be seen as accidental but with the way he was looking at you, you were sure he had every purpose in the world.

“D’you have any dreams last night?” He spoke quietly, voice low for a reason you were sure to be other than the fact that he had just woken up.

“No, I – I don’t think so,” you hummed, feeling his thigh move once more to rest easily against your underwear covered heat, as if taunting you to rub over him. “Did you?”

“Mm I thought I did,” he said slowly. His hand stopped at the small of your back, applying a steady pressure to nudge you forward; both closer to him and over his thigh. “Thought for a second that last night was a dream.”

“It wasn’t,” you whispered.

You saw his eyes glued to your mouth when you spoke the words. Watching his eyelids briefly flutter closed, your head moved over the pillow just the slightest bit as if moving in to kiss over your jaw but he stopped himself.

“Certainly wasn’t,” he murmured, gripping your lower back tighter when he pushed you over him with a little more force. A whine from your lips was barely audible when your centre rubbed over him with a bit more pressure.

“How do you feel?” His voice seemed to drop even lower, smooth in your ear. “Still tired?”

“No,” you whispered, a growing ache dropping through your stomach and straight to the spot between your thighs at the growing tension. “You?”

“Wide awake,” he breathed out, a slow blink before his gaze met yours once again.

It was as if unspoken words were shared between the two of you, conversation from the night before of “not right now” fluttering through both of your heads. Was now the time? The anticipation was slowly driving you crazy. You certainly wanted now to be it, and with the way he was looking at you, you found it safe to assume he felt the same.

He brought his hand that wasn’t against your back to the bottom of your jaw, somewhat tilting your head up so that your face was angled towards his.

“I’d really like to kiss you again,” he hummed softly, eyelids still heavy as his thumb brushed gently over your skin. He looked at you in a way that made you feel like you were on fire, a way that would normally have you avoiding his gaze but right now all you could do was stare back at him with hopefully just as much intensity.

“Then do it.”

You caught the way his eyes fell down to your lips when you spoke. You wrapped your arm further around him, pulling yourself closer over the mattress until your chests were nearly completely pressed together. Pressing down just the slightest bit over his thigh, enough to have him grip you tight and he didn’t waste another second before he got everything out of you he wanted.

His mouth landed along your jaw, a series of loud pecks in a line leading to your chin. His shoulder against yours, he twisted his body until he was hovering over you and pushing you onto your back. Supporting himself on his elbows, he took a second to gaze down at you as one of his hands cupped the side of your face.

His thumb made contact with your mouth first, softly tracing the outline of your lips with the pad of the finger before his mouth captured the trail he had just drawn.

Every kiss with him felt like the first time, like every nerve in your body was alert and that Harry was the only thing occupying your mind. His mouth moved languidly on yours, soft strokes of your lips sliding together. His tongue easily slipped into your mouth, smooth licks over each other in slow movements.

His chest pressed against yours, half his body resting over you as his chin bumped yours as the soft kisses deepened. He was giving you everything he possibly could, wanting to savour every moment as the soft mutterings of “we have all day” rang through his ears.

A hum resonated through your chest, the feeling of his hand smoothing over your neck warming your skin. He repeated the motions, holding a grip to your jaw. He seemed unable to hold you in just one place, touching you, feeling you wherever he could.

His other hand had slid between your bodies, gripping into the material of your (his) sweatshirt tightly. The fabric had ridden up on your thighs, the hem of it sitting right below your stomach and your bare legs tangled with his. The blanket over the two of you was falling off to the side, neither caring all that much as heat was coursing around you.

Breaking apart for a moment, both of your breathing growing heavier and you could feel his heart beating faster against you. Your eyes parted open, meeting his gaze while the lip that he had bit into was then tucked between your own teeth.

You felt a laugh slip past your mouth, chest lightly shaking and you saw his mouth widen in a dimple popping smile. You didn’t know why you were laughing, just feeling so light and at peace in that moment that you couldn’t help the little giggle of bliss.

He leant back down, teeth clashing in another elated kiss. Picking up right where you had left off, smiles slowly falling as a subtle intensity grew. Your soft chuckles being replaced with quiet moans, hasty fingers gripping at each other as if the other were about to disappear.

Heavy tension floated between your bodies, unable to help yourself from the small jolt of your hips over his thigh. He urged you to repeat the action, pushing against you hotly while your mouths greedily indulged the other. You could feel him resting hard against your leg, the thought of having been the one to get him there just further turning you on.

Both your arms wrapped around him, one holding into the thin fabric of his shirt while the other was laced through his hair. Your tugs in the strands were growing tighter when he drove his hips forward. You felt one of his own hands venture lower under the duvet, meeting the bare skin of your hip and grabbing into the skin. Pulling your leg around him, allowing space for him to settle in between your legs.

His head hung in the crook of your neck, peppering pecks over the curve before he was sucking soft kisses over your skin. Moans no longer being muffled by his mouth over yours, he quietly urged you on with a never-ending series of kisses.

“Really gonna kill me,” he muttered, the hint of a smirk evident in his voice.

A breathy laugh was all you could muster, focused on the way his hand was edging under your sweatshirt and feeling over the warm skin of your tummy. He pulled himself away, chest heaving in the air as he moved down to press a heavy kiss over your mouth. His tongue moved slowly over your lips, pulling away with a tug of the sensitive swollen skin.

Harry sat up on his knees, shifting over so that he was by your legs with his hands still holding you. The action had caused the blanket to nearly fully fall off, now only barely covering half your legs. Your eyes skimmed over his form, dark shadows beneath every dip in his body. You couldn’t help but stare at the clear as day outline of his length in his briefs, seeming painfully hard and heavily restrained by the thin fabric. You had to bite back a moan at the sight.

He was leaning forward again, his other hand pushing up under the shirt that was riding high on your middle. His eyes followed his motions, the heavy silence interrupted when he cleared his throat.

“Can I undress you?”

His sultry tone and heavy gaze had caused goosebumps to rise on your skin, no matter the heat that surrounded you. “Yes please.”

A hand on either side of you, hem of your sweatshirt hitting his wrists as he pushed up slowly over your chest. His fingertips trailed over your skin as they did so, trickling up and over the swell of your breasts. Soft graze over your nipple had a little gasp emitting from the back of your throat, your eyes flicking up to his to see his gaze glued to the new skin exposed to him.

“Gorgeous,” he mumbled, as you lifted yourself up a bit to help him push the shirt up and over your head, before it was completely forgotten and tossed aside. He hovered closer to you, hands following the line of your shoulders before dropping down to palm over your breasts.

Massaging them in both hands, fully cupping over them as he felt their weight in his palms. He wasted no time, dropping his head lower until his lips met the skin he was so enamoured by.

Hot lick over your nipple, lips circling around the skin as you felt a hum of vibrations when he moaned around you. Both hands were all over you, as if he was unable to stop his indulgence in his admiration for your chest. You gasped into the air when his teeth grazed over your overly sensitive nipple, leaving it nice and wet before he watched the nub harden once more in the cool air.

A trail of his mouth along your upper chest, stopping with swift nips at your skin followed by soft sucks. He was no doubt leaving a few marks to keep an impression of his mouth on you. Giving the majority of his attention to your other breast, hands still occupying as much space on the soft skin as he possibly could.

The sight of wet patches over your chest had you let out an involuntary moan, the feeling of his mouth over you driving the ache between your thighs to a nearly unbearable pressure.

“Harry…” you whined, hand trailing over his neck and to his scalp as you called his name once more.

“Completely fuckin’ breathtaking,” his voice vibrated over your skin, as he pressed a loud kiss over your sternum. “My sunshine,” his lips moved over your collarbone, “angel,” a kiss to the column of your neck. “My tangerine orange.”

His mouth was over your jaw, as he fell back down to his side to rest over the mattress. One arm supporting himself so that he could lean over you, the other still resting at the underside of your breasts while his thumb rubbed small circles into your skin.

“A tangerine?” You giggled around the words, unable to help but sound breathless as your head was spinning over the attention he was showing you. He lifted his head to meet your gaze, pupils a bit blown and a lopsided grin on his mouth. “You’re going to peel me open and eat me?”

You didn’t realize the innuendo behind your words until they left your mouth, the sudden memory of the way Harry had made you cum on the floor of his studio causing the heat between your legs to grow. A silly little smirk grew on his lips, a soft hum from his throat before he spoke again.

“Yes, exactly.” His chest shook with a laugh, lips puckering to land a kiss over your skin.

“You’re so sunny,” he whispered, hand venturing lower over your hips.

His tongue licked over your skin, “taste delicious.”

The hand on your hip slid over to your thigh, pinching your skin as it slid to the inside of your leg. You parted your legs instinctively, allowing him more space. “Want to spread you open.”

Your eyes briefly fluttered shut at his words, just as his lips fell to your mouth, kissing you deeply. The action nearly distracted you from his hand that was still sitting low, massaging into the skin of your thigh.

“You have to –” he took a heavy breath, your eyes opening to meet his when he spoke. “You have to tell me what you want, okay? Need to make sure you feel good.”

“Okay,” you breathed, promise in his words heavy. “You too.”

“What do you need right now, sunshine?”

His fingertips were so close to where you longed to feel anything. You found yourself at a loss for words for a second, hyper focused on the feeling of his hand tickling your inner thigh. “Can I?” He brought your attention back to his words whispered over your neck. “Tell me if I can.”

“God, yes,” you moaned into the air, arm around him gripped him tighter just as his fingers grazed over your covered clit. His thumb started with small circles over you for a brief second, reveling in the way your legs shook with the pressure that he had been building.

“Feel that…” he groaned, when his fingertips slipped past the elastic. He pushed your underwear aside for two fingers to slide through your wetness.

Your legs parted unprompted, making space between your thighs for his hand as he felt his way through your slit, no doubt soaking his fingers on you before pressing over your clit. He breathed a quiet curse, withdrawing his fingers from you to push your underwear down. Peeling the fabric off your lower half, you lifted your hips up into the air to make his job easier.

The garment easily forgotten, you kicked it off by the end of the mattress and focused on the way Harry’s fingertips circled over your clit. His head lifted from where it was hanging by your shoulder, feeling his hot breath hit the side of your cheek. You turned your head on the pillow, eyes meeting his.

You think you felt yourself grow wetter just by the way he was watching you so intently, as if he was silently demanding that you keep your eyes locked with his. His beautiful eyes watched every reaction you had and every sound you made due to his hand between your thighs.

Drawing him in closer with the arm you had around his neck, he complied and landed a kiss to your cheek. Moving to the corner of your mouth, before fully capturing your lips with his in a deep kiss. His tongue slipped into your mouth, just as his fingers slid over your slit until one was pushing into you. A whimper resonated through your chest, the feeling of his finger slowly dipping into you already had you clenching. He bit down on your lower lip, sharp inhale at the feeling of your warmth around him.

Unable to kiss him properly as heavy breaths left your mouth, he dragged his lips down your jaw until they were latched to your neck once more. You brought your other hand to his chest, nails digging into his skin as your back arched with the slow and steady feeling of his finger inside of you.

Pushing your hips onto his hand, his palm pushing against your clit as you did so. You couldn’t help the moan at the feeling, paired with his teeth nipping and lips kissing over the sensitive skin of your neck. As he laid on his side, you felt his length push against your hip with small nudges into your skin.

His lips slid lower, just as he pushed another finger inside of you with a slow motion. “Good?”

“So good,” you responded quickly. “Don’t stop.”

“Don’t intend to,” he muttered, listening to you with his fingers pushing in and curling against the spot that had you bucking up to meet his movements.

His lips kissed down the swell of your breasts, mouth circling over your nipple with a soft hum from his chest. Teeth grazing over the sensitive spot, pulling whines from your throat as he continued to tease you.

The deep pit of tension from the bottom of your stomach was building, as you felt yourself craving to feel come undone below him. You could hear his fingers move in your wetness, the obscene sound somehow turning you on even more as your arousal was evident.

His mouth left your skin, lifting himself up slightly so that he could watch you. Your hips were pushing up trying to find a rhythm with his fingers, his palm tight against your clit as you couldn’t get enough of the feeling. You were shamelessly chasing your high, already feeling edged closer and closer to it after the long-built anticipation.

His thumb brushed your clit, the pressure as he worked to push you towards your high. Your nails were digging into his chest, gripping him tightly from the side as you pushed your back into the mattress with an arch to spine.

Euphoric sensation floating through your veins, heading straight to your wet centre where his fingers were swiftly working you over. Pumping the two inside you in fast motions, hitting the post along your walls that had you biting your lip so hard you were sure to taste a sting of blood.

“I’m gonna cum,” you moaned, voice breaking out of a whisper as you couldn’t help the raise in tone. You felt good, overwhelmingly so and you wanted nothing more than to feel yourself come undone over Harry’s hand.

“Please, do” his voice was low, hoarse. “I wanna feel you.”

You whimpered at his words, eyes shutting tighter with moans leaving your mouth at the pleasure shooting down your legs and up your spine.

A hum was sound from his throat, he spoke a small “love” in an attempt to grab your attention.

“Look at me.”

Complying at the roughness in his voice, your eyelids parting open to watch him with parted lips and clammy skin. His eyes were dark, intent on your every breath. Arm flexing as his fingers quickly fucked you, while your hand grabbed his bicep tightly when you felt you couldn’t hold it in anymore.

His pace was quick, deep and calculated, noticing what moves he did that made you moan. It was so intensely attractive to you, how closely he watched and wanted you to enjoy yourself.

You could hear mumbling incoherently, unable to decipher or even try and listen to what he was saying as the pressure built and built until you were coming undone around him.

Hips jolting up as he curled his fingers, rubbing over your clit while you choked around your moans. You held him tightly, nails digging into his shoulder as you felt like you needed to hold on to him, onto anything otherwise you would drift away in your pleasure.

He breathed heavily while he watched you, falling back down to his side with his face resting in the crook of your neck. His fingers slowly withdrew from you, still pressing light touches onto your sensitive clit causing your legs to twitch at the feeling. “Harry.”

“Dreamt of you like this,” his words laced together, muttered against your skin. He gave you loud smacks of kisses onto your shoulder, along with his soft mutterings. “Real thing is so much better.”

With hot cheeks and swollen lips, you lifted yourself up on one elbow to hold yourself up and face him. He fell onto his back, just as you were positioned seconds ago and withdrew his hand from between your thighs. Wet fingers raised, slipping them past his lips to taste you with a low hum from deep in his chest.

Gripping your jaw with said hand, pulling you in for a deep kiss. As much as he kissed you this morning, as much as he kissed you in the past day, you could not get enough of the feeling of his mouth. Your own hand lingered over his chest, tracing uneven patterns over him.

You dug your nails a bit harder into his stomach, feeling it clench from under you. Almost as a soothing action for yourself as you settled from your high, you ran mismatched patterns over his front. Dipping lowered and teasing the band of the briefs that he was still wearing, your nails dug into his skin just as an audible groan left Harry’s lips.

He muttered a quiet “killing me,” over your mouth, his hand leaving your jaw and landing over your own hand that rested on his chest.

His fingers laced with yours, and he carried your hand with his and placed it directly over his bulge. Squeezing your hand in his, matching whines from the two of you at the action. Yours at the weight of him in your hand, and his at the feeling of finally having your hands on him.

As if you had switched positions, this time you held yourself propped up on your side so that you could hover over him. His hand left yours, soft groan as you freely palmed over the very defined bulge in his underwear. You kept your eyes stuck to your motions, not even realizing the way your lip slipped between your teeth at the feeling of him.

Pushing yourself up on your hand, sitting up with the rest of the blanket falling off your body. But you didn’t care, you didn’t need the extra heat.

You tugged at the elastic that sat tight against his hips, fingertips slipping under it and over the hot skin. Casting him a quick glance, seeing his eyes locked on your hands, chest rising and falling with a small furrow between his brows.

You pulled down his briefs to the middle of his thighs, watching the way his hardened length rested against his skin. One of your hands trailed up his thigh, resting just under his hipbone. A sharp breath on Harry’s part was heard as your other hand firmly gripped his length.

Circling your fingers around him, a soft stroke until your palm became sticky with his precum. Moving your thumb over his tip, applying more pressure as you saw the way his stomach clenched and his legs jerked with a bend in the knees.

Your silent gaze landed on his face, just as he looked up to meet your eyes. Withdrawing your hand from him, you pushed your thumb past your parted lips to wet it nicely. His eyes greedily watched the way you sucked, moaning your name as a beg while his hand gripped yours on his thigh.

Bringing your hand down to circle your wet thumb over his tip again, giving him slow tugs while you listened to every noise he made. Every small pant of your name and whine into the air. You had never felt more turned on by someone else’s reaction to you than right now.

“You look,” you bit your lip with a smile, looking for the right words as you slowly pumped your hand around him, “really sexy.”

He tried to let out a chuckle, the sound being cut with a moan when you circled your thumb over his tip.

Bending down, you pressed a kiss at the underside of his navel while you worked over his length. Kisses pressed following the trail of hair that led south, before Harry grabbed your shoulder to stop you. “You can’t…” he choked as you sat up straight once more, withdrawing every inch of skin from his so that you were no longer touching at all. “I’m already bursting for you, I don’t want to –” he paused, “– I mean, do you want to have sex?”

You leant forward, palms over his chest once more as you found yourself unable to go without touching him. “Yeah, I really do.”

He pushed himself up, sitting closer to you. “Okay,” he rushed, one hand running through his hair. “Okay.”

You couldn’t help but laugh quietly at his flustered state, watching as he yanked his briefs off the rest of the way down his legs, letting them fall to the floor. He pushed himself up more until he was sliding off the bed, your hands falling from him once more while you watched him stand. “I know I’ve got condoms somewhere –”

And then he was walking away from you, with a quick “stay where you are!” called over his shoulder. You did just as he said, falling down to your back and rolling over to your side with your head resting on your hand, watching him disappear around a corner.

He was back moments later, from the washroom you presumed because you didn’t know where someone would keep condoms other than by their bed. You watched him stand at the edge of the mattress, head dipped down as he threw the wrapper to the ground and rolled the condom over himself.

He took a heavy breath, lifting his legs to kneel over the mattress as he reached out for your legs. Large palms over your calves, he slid them up with soft circles of his thumbs into your skin before he spoke a low “can I have you on your belly?”

Easily complying, you fell forward so that your chest was pressed into the mattress and your cheek against the pillow. You felt his hands slide up your legs, over your thighs until he was gripping the swell of your bum. First you felt his breath hit your skin, then his lips kissed over the skin with a light lick on his tongue. Continuing the motions as he moved up, from the bottom of your spine until he was laying on his side right next to you. Touching you all over, you felt one of his hands graze over the soft skin of your stomach and pull you up, so that your back was pressed firmly into his chest in a spooning position.

Adjusting yourself gently, bending your knees so that they could support you over the mattress. You shifted your lower half, his cock pushing right against your bum. You felt his lips glaze over the crook of your neck, face buried in your skin and he peppered the surface with kisses.

“Are you okay like this?” His voice was muffled by your skin. “We can do it however you’d like…”

Twisting your head so that your eyes could meet, you shot him a reassuring smile. His gaze was heavy on you, desire written all across his features as he followed the small nod of your head. “More than okay.”

He leant forward, forearm wrapping around you to grip your jaw and press his mouth hot and hard over yours, just as a moan of your name resonated through his chest. You could feel him pushing against your bum, the anticipation of feeling him inside of you causing the ache between your legs to become nearly unbearable. His mouth parted from yours, hot promises of making you feel good pressed against your jaw before your cheek was resting against the pillow once more while you were silently begging to feel him inside of you.

A hand was between your bodies, he was gripping his length to push over your folds and get himself wet over you. A quiet moan at the feeling, you couldn’t help but nudge your bum back to rub over his cock. He repeated the action, quiet curses leaving his mouth as his tip found your entrance and he slowly but surely edged himself in.

The intense feeling of him filling you had you gasping out his name. You were certain it was a combination of the closeness of the position and simply the fact that it was Harry behind you, as you’d never felt yourself melt completely into another person like this.

His hand circled around your side, parting your legs a bit further while you pushed back into him. He didn’t stop until his hips were pressed tight against your backside, and a low exhale fell over your shoulder.

“You feel,” he stuttered lightly, firm grip of his hand over your hip.

“How does it feel?” You breathed, turning your head around once more to gaze up at him. He moved his hips, painstakingly slow for the both of you as you moaned at the feeling of him inside of you. His head fell down to brush his mouth over your jaw, hot breath fanning over the expanse of your neck. “Feels incredible,” he babbled. “You’re so fucking… feels amazing.”

Your cheek fell back over the pillow, eyes falling shut and he started to pump his hips into you at a steady pace. You could feel him everywhere around, hitting so deep within you. Soft moans of praises were freely falling from his lips, never seeming to go that long without skimming them along your skin.

His hand slid up from your hip, resting over your lower stomach to guide you over him while he pushed quickening thrusts into you. You let out a heavy pant at the feeling of him rubbing deliciously against spots that made your vision blur. Your hands fisted into the pillow, moving your hips in small rolls to push back on him.

He pumped into you harder, hitting dipper as the pleasure within both of you grew. You moaned when one of his hands slid up your tummy to grip your breasts, massaging the sensitive skin in a way that had you clenching around him.

Your name fell from his lips, kisses planted on the nape of your neck. There seemed to be virtually no space between both your bodies, connected so closely it was making you dizzy.

His fingers pinched over your nipple, eliciting a sharp inhale from your before he moved his hand up to grip your jaw. Titling your head towards him once again, not wasting a second before he leant over and connected your lips. Kisses were rough and messy, licking over lips and hot moans pressed together.

He trailed wet kisses over your jaw, and to the bottom of your earlobe. Muttering hot praises into your ear, telling you how hot you felt and how much he wants to feel your come undone for him. His hand skimmed back down over your neck, blindly grabbing at your breasts and sliding down your stomach.

The sounds filling the room were filthy, paired with the heavy rain outside and the occasional loud motorist. It was something out of a dream, the serenity of your surroundings paired with the euphoria you were feeling.

In a steady rhythm, hips snapping in time together as Harry’s teeth tugged on your earlobe. He was making every delicious sound possible, losing himself in the feeling of you. Shallow breaths hitting your skin as the feeling of his forehead resting over your shoulder weighted over you.

You hummed, lifting your arm around so that you could stroke your fingers over his cheek, pushing through his hair.

“Can – can we switch positions? I wanna see you…” you called, feeling his hand over you stop moving.

“God,” he said quickly, words hitting the back of your shoulder. “Anything you want.”

He slowly withdrew himself from you, both letting out small pants of the feeling of no longer being connected to the other. You pushed yourself up, sitting on your legs as you turned yourself to be able to properly see Harry.

His hair was falling wildly over his forehead, lips deep pink and eyes dark as he watched you move around him. His hand was still on your hip, pressing against your skin as if to push you to lie down on the mattress, but you softly shook your head.

“I want to be on top,” you whispered while you lifted a leg so that you had a knee resting on either side of his hips, your hands landing on his shoulders to help him fall against the mattress. You lowered yourself to sit just at his hips, hovering over him with a kiss planted directly on his mouth. Kissing him deeply as one of your hands rested between your bodies, blindly wrapping your hand around his cock.

“Anything,” his voice was hoarse as he returned your affection. “Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.”

“I want,” your hand squeezing him lightly in your palm. “To make you feel good – want to make you feel the way you make me feel.”

You moved your hips over him in a slick motion. He groaned against your mouth, lips easily parting and unable to focus on kissing you back as the feeling of you touching him the way you were was driving him absolutely crazy.

You lifted on your knees, chest leaving his when you sat up straighter. Bowing your head to watch the way he entered you once again, sinking back down around him. Heavy eyes flicking back to his, seeing him just as enthralled with the way the two of you connected.

His heavy hands were gripping onto your hips, a shaky breath leaving his lips as you bottomed out over him. “Don’t know how much longer I’m going to last…” he whispered, eyes meeting yours as one of your hands moved from his shoulder to brush over his jaw.

“That’s okay,” you breathed, swivelling your hips over his. His palm slid over the curve of your ass, fingertips digging into the skin when you moved again. The feeling caused a rush of heavy desire to course down to your heat. “Me neither.”

He was moaning when you started to move your hips on his, sliding over his length as you searched for a rhythm. He felt just as deep like this, just as snug inside of you and you couldn’t help but call out his name while you pumped your hips with his.

“Fuck me,” he groaned, eyes falling over your frame, from your chest to the space where you connected as he watched you move over him. “You look so fucking good like this I –”

You trailed a hand down his chest, fingertips falling over your own lower tummy before they were sliding down your wet clit. He watched you greedily, unable to tear his eyes away from the way that you started playing with yourself.

Rubbing light circles over your clit, heat in your belly burning once again. The combination of the deep strokes of his cock inside of you that was hitting against spots that made your vision blur, and the added pleasure of your own fingers over your wet clit, you were being sent closer to another orgasm.

Harry’s hand circled around your wrist after a moment, tugging your arm towards him until he was slipping the two fingers that had been wettened by your cunt into his mouth. You fluttered around him at the sight of him sucking on your fingers, your thumb pressing firmly on the underside of his jaw when you pushed your fingers further into his mouth.

Feeling his tongue swirl around the digits, you rocked your hips faster over him and you moaned at the view of the man below you. Your hand fell from his mouth when he let go of your wrist, wet fingers sliding over his neck before you were holding his shoulder tightly once again.

A surprised squeak was sound from your mouth when Harry pressed a hand into the mattress behind him and raised himself to a seated position, causing you to fall back against his thighs. You held onto his shoulders, an incredulous laugh sounding past your mouth at the fast motion that had you briefly fearing that you would topple over backwards.

“Alright?” A small chuckle laced his word, although when you shifted over him so that you were properly seated on his thighs with your knees still planted into the plush mattress, his voice caught in his throat.

“Yeah,” your own voice was feeble, airy.

It was the closest you’d ever felt to another person, his chest grazing yours with every heavy inhale as his head dipped down so that he could kiss over your shoulder. His hips started moving up to meet yours, quick thrusts into you as the both of you neared your climax.

Needy for his mouth, you pushed a hand through his hair as you searched for his lips with half closed eyelids. As you tugged on the curly strands, he quickly accepted your kiss with one hand on the small of your back to keep pushing you down over him in tight motions. Chests now pressed flush together, you were moaning into his mouth while he murmured small praises.

“Please,” he begged, unsure of what he was asking for, just knowing he needed something. “How is it – do you feel good? Please …”

“So fucking good,” you moaned around the words. Eyes opening, pulling at his hair so that you could gaze up at him. Desperate eyes watched him, watched the furrow pull in his brow as his hips pumped with yours with quick snaps, wanting nothing more than to have you come undone around him once more. “I’m so close –”

“Please,” he repeated, one of his hands moving from your backside and snaking around your front, shoved tightly between your bodies as he blindly searched for your clit. Rubbing quick small circles over the sensitive bud. The feeling paired with the pleas of having you cum around him that were kissed over your neck, being just what you needed to push you over the edge.

You pressed your lips to his when you came, lips wrapping around his bottom lip as your teeth pulled on the sensitive skin. Calling out his name into his mouth, fingernails digging deep into his skin. You saw the moon, you saw the stars, and most importantly you saw nothing but Harry.

Your hips lost their rhythm over his when you squeezed him tight, grinding down onto his pelvis as a moan was sound from deep in your chest. You tugged at his hair, begging him to kiss you again while your hands desperately gripped at his skin.

He kissed you fiercely, tongue sliding over your lips as you barely had the ability to kiss him back. His hips were still jerking against yours, motions growing more and more frenzied as he bit onto your lips, low mutterings of praises and whines of wanting to cum.

And he soon did, pushing everything he could of himself as he came into the condom. His hands never stopped tracing over your spine, giving your backside sharp pinches as he moaned deeply. Twitching against you as the two of you came down together, his head resting over the crook of your shoulder while he took deep breaths through his nose.

He kissed along your shoulder, mouth wet over your skin. Your fingers traced over his neck, every nerve in your body feeling sensitive as you started to shift over him. You were both quiet, other than heavy breaths and fast beating hearts.

You didn’t know how long you stayed like that, but after a while the throbbing in your legs died down and you were able to swing a leg over and slide off of him. You fell over on the mattress with a breathless laugh, a content feeling seeping through you as you laid back on the bed.

Watching Harry push his hair from his face, biting his swollen lips together as he watched you with hearts in his eyes. “How are you?”

You hummed, dreamy smile on your mouth. “I’m good – best I’ve been in a while I think.”

He smiled as he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss over your temple with a muttered “me too”.

Butterfly kisses over your skin, a soft “give me a sec,” before he lifted himself up and swung his legs over the mattress, sliding off the bed and rounded the corner away from you.

True to his word, he was back seconds later after presumably disposing of the condom and cleaning himself up, and he pulled on a pair of shorts that hung low on his hips. “Did you want shorts, or pants to wear?”

“Maybe some pants?” You hummed from where you sat on the mattress. He nodded, handing you a pair of pastel multicoloured sweatpants.

You lifted your hips from the mattress, pulling the pants over your bottom half before you settled back down. Harry grabbed the blanket from where it had fallen off the bed, laying it over you before he slipped in as well.

You shifted closer to him, accepting his arm that wrapped around your bare stomach and pulled your chest against his. You settled in deeper into the pillows, smiling contently as you felt yourself starting to grow tired.

He watched the way your eyelids started to flutter close, pulling more of the blanket over your back. He pulled it off of where it fell to the ground, draping it over you and the bed before sliding in next to you. “Get some rest – we have all day, yeah?”

You hummed into the pillow, feeling him tighten around you as your breasts pressed into his skin. His other hand was smoothing over your neck just as it was when you fell asleep together last night, the action slowly and surely lulling you to sleep.

Harry watched you as he felt sleep overtake him as well, he watched the slow and steady rise of your chest. He could feel your heart beating against him, resonating with his own heartbeat as if the two had fallen in synch.

Hours past before you woke up again. The sky was a bit lighter than previously, hard rain still hitting the window from outside as it never seemed to let up.

Your bare chest was tight against Harry’s, skin sticking together. Soft exhales were coming from his parted lips. He had an arm wrapped around you, the occasional twitch of his finger as he moved in his sleep.

Moving over on the mattress, slowly waking up as you raised yourself on your elbows to gaze down at Harry. Leaning over him to kiss over his closed eyelid, gently removing his arm from your middle before sliding off the bed. You easily found the abandoned sweatshirt from the morning, tugging it over your bare top half.

Remembering where his washroom was, you took a quick glance to see the pouring rain outside before flicking on the light switch to the room. Uncapping the toothpaste that rested over the counter, grabbing the toothbrush that you used the previous night.

Due to the briefly running tap, you hadn’t heard the rustle in sheets and feet on the ground that was coming from the adjacent room. Harry was soon poking his head in from the parted door, tousled hair falling over his forehead as he shot you a lazy smile through the mirror.

He hesitated by the door frame for a second, then taking a few steps towards you so that he could stand behind you. Wrapping both arms around you with his chest pushing into your back, he titled his head to kiss over your jaw.

“Morning again,” he murmured, teeth teasingly pulling at your earlobe.

You couldn’t respond with your mouth full of toothpaste, keeping your eyes on him through the mirror. His grip around you loosened a little when you bent down to spit out the toothpaste and rinse out your mouth.

“Hi,” the word whispered as you turned in his grip, raising a hand to scratch over the thin layer of stubble that lined in jaw.

“Want to make something to eat?”

You nodded, mirroring the smile on his mouth as you traced the dimple over his cheek. “Music to my ears.”

Following Harry to his kitchen. It was small, not much counter space you noticed but he had a little table up against the wall that held bowls of fruit and a cutting board. He opened up the cupboard, tapping his fingertips against the wood while he gazed at the contents. “I do have the fixings for pancakes if you’d like…” he moved to the fridge, opening it up, “or eggs…”

He turned back to you, gaging your reaction. “What sounds good to you?”

“Whatever is easiest,” you smiled, leaning back against the counter across from him.

“Not whatever is easiest – what did you want to eat?” He laughed lightly, facing you.

You paused, biting your smile back as he urged you to make a choice what you liked best. “Pancakes.”

“Perfect,” his smile grew, as he turned back to the cupboard he had just opened. “Some fruits too?”

“Yes please.”

He pulled out the mix he already had to make pancakes, grabbing a bowl and a wooden spoon to start getting everything together. You went to see what kind of produce he had, picking out some apples and oranges that sat together in a bowl.

He saw you searching through drawers, clicking his tongue. “Have a seat, I can do it.”

“Okay, okay,” you laughed, taking a seat on one of the wooden chairs by the little table. You grabbed your phone from where it had sat all night by the counter, scrolling through recent notifications before opening up your Spotify to play some music while you prepared your meal.

Choosing one of the playlists you usually played at work, a soft hum of Nancy Sinatra coming through the speaker as you placed your phone back down on the table and watched him quickly work around the kitchen.

“Do you have coffee?” You asked, eyeing the French press sitting in the corner.

You saw the bag sitting next to the press before he answered your question, as you rose to your feet again to grab the paper bag and twist it open, smelling the ground beans.

“Yes,” he answered, turning around to see you having already found it. “Is it… good?”

You laughed breezily at his nervousness over the coffee he had bought. “I’m sure it’s perfectly fine.”

He had already turned on the kettle, you realized, and you grabbed the French press from where it sat ready to make the two of you a morning cup.

“Hey,” Harry brought your attention to him as you eyeballed the amount of coffee you were putting in. “I can do that – let me make you coffee for once.”

You bit back a smile, filling the press with the amount of coffee you liked before sitting back down. “It’s all yours,” you said, as the kettle clicked.

He turned away from the orange he was peeling, grabbing the kettle from where it sat to pour the hot water into the press.

You held your tongue, for about two seconds before clearing your throat. “A good way to make French press coffee is to pour a little bit in first – just enough to soak all the grounds and then pour the rest.”

He silently nodded, doing as you said and waiting a bit before pouring the rest. “You –”

You cut yourself off, watching as Harry lifted his head up to glance at you when you spoke, tousled hair falling over his forehead. “Hm?”

“It’s good to pour it a little slower…” you started slowly.

He laughed, loud from his chest. “Did you want to do it?”

“No, no! It doesn’t make that much of a difference, just some tips.” You let him finish making the coffee while you searched through some more cupboards for mugs.

Pulling out two ceramic ones, walking over to the fridge as you looked for anything to put into the coffee. Finding a small jug of oat milk, not surprised at the find as you took it out and shook the container a bit out of habit.

“I’m going to assume that you don’t take anything in your coffee…” you peered over at him as you poured some oat milk into what would be your mug.

“I don’t –” he cut himself off, as if about to ask why you would assume that but stopping himself as he remembered that you make him coffee multiple times a week.

He let the coffee in the press sit as he finished preparing the fruit, turning back to where you were leaning against the counter with an orange slice in hand. He wordlessly lifted the slice up towards your mouth, taking several steps forward until he was close in front of you.

“It’s not a tangerine, but…” he mumbled, a little smile playing on his lips as you met his gaze. Opening your mouth to accept the fruits, circling around it along with the tip of his fingers that you easily sucked into your mouth.

For some reason anytime he mentioned a citrus fruit you got butterflies in your stomach. You chewed the fruit as his hand fell from your mouth, thumb swiping under your bottom lip. The sweet flavour filling your mouth as his gaze never left yours. His hands fell to the counter on either side of you, boxing you in closer to him.

You raised a hand, taking hold of his jaw between your index finger and thumb, and pulled his face towards yours. His lips parted as did yours, your tongue licking into his mouth as your hand held him firmly. He tasted the citrus in your mouth, sharing the flavour of the fruit together as you kissed.

A hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him as you slipped your fingers across his jawline until they were tugging in his hair.

He took another step forward, one foot resting between your two with his hips pushing against yours. He was holding you like he thought that you’d disappear if he let go, as your arms wrapped around him in the same way.

He’d already gotten you worked up, and you would let him take you right there if he wanted.

Fingertips poked under the sweatshirt over your body, nearly feigning innocence as his hands held the skin on your sides, before they were smoothing up until they were holding your breasts. Fingertips massaging into the skin, thumbs rubbing over your nipples in a way that made goosebumps erupt under the sweater.

Edging the article up higher on your body, exposing more of your skin until the underside of your breasts were visible.

“God,” he muttered against your mouth, lips sliding over your jaw as he hung his head lower. “Think I’m obsessed with you.”

Your hand followed the move of his head, as he dipped down lower so that he could press his mouth over your newly exposed chest. Sucking into the skin, hot licks until his teeth grazed over your nipple and you were pulling at his hair a bit tighter. He still cupped his palms around your breasts, enamoured with the way he maneuvered them and the way they felt in his hands.

Mummering his name, you pulled his attention back up to your face and he peered at you with heavy eyes. “Hm?”

“You should push down the press,” you angled your head to where the French press sat still on the counter across from the two of you.

His eyes held a laugh, as his hands fell from your skin and he nodded with a bite of his lip. Turning around from you only for the brief moment needed to slowly push the filter through the coffee before he was facing you from across the kitchen once again.

You followed, bypassing him and grabbing the two mugs that you had prepared for the coffee. Taking hold of the press, you poured two steamy cups of coffee. Silently handing him the one without anything in it, you tried to hide the way that your lips curved upwards by biting your lips together.

Harry grabbed the mug from your hands, bringing it up to his lips and took a small sip after blowing lightly over the surface.

“Careful,” your voice had fallen to a whisper in your proximity.

He only hummed, exaggeratedly smacking his lips together while placing the blue mug down on the counter next to him. “Best cup o’ coffee I’ve ever had.”

You let out what could only be called a giggle, unable to hold back your smile any longer. His hand looped around you once more, fitting into the small of your back to pull you close. Careful not to spill any coffee in the mug that you were holding, doing the same as he had and securing it down on the counter.

“Something tells me that might be a bit of an exaggeration…” you trailed off, free hand now resting over his shoulder.

“Hm,” he shook his head. “That’s where you’re wrong.”

His mouth sought out yours once again as you laughed under in his grasp. He pressed a peck over your mouth, staying close as he seemed to hesitate. “Did you want to spend the day?”

“Yeah,” you responded quickly. “If it’s not too much.”

“Can’t be,” he hummed. His head hung low between your neck and shoulder, butterfly kisses over your fabric covered skin. “Can’t ever have too much of you.”

You locked the doors behind you, shaking the handle slightly to make sure it was truly locked before walking across the floor once more to head back behind the counter. Harry still lingered just at the unmarked line that separated the customer area from the staff area, leaning over the counter.

It had been almost a week since the night at the gallery.

Your days off had been spent with Harry, as he was true to his word and never seemed to be able to get enough of you. And the same sentiment was returned back to him. He had finally put his number in your phone, something the two of you had found funny about the fact that you went this far without even exchanging numbers.

Now, he kept you company as you closed up the café alone.

The fall rain always caused a small dip in customers, the shop never too busy, especially in the later hours of the afternoon.

“Do you have much left to do?”

You neared him by the counter, stepping past him and into the back. “Not too much – all of the main cleaning is done.”

“Can I help?” He had shut his little black sketchbook on the counter, pushing himself up from his elbows to near you.

“If you want…” you hummed happily, seeing him edge closer past the counter and into the staff only area. “Come on,” you giggled, tapping his arm for him to follow.

“Is this allowed?” He hesitated, making you turn back around.

You shrugged. “It’s not a big deal, I know my boss trusts me.”

That seemed to be enough for him, as he trailed behind you towards the espresso machine that you hadn’t finished cleaning.

“Tell me what to do, boss.”

Nudging his hip as he hovered near you, you shook your head with a laugh while reaching to grab the basket that had yet to be cleaned.

“You need to unscrew,” you spoke through your actions, grabbing the little flat screwdriver, and leaning down so that you could see under the grouphead on the machine, “the filter. To clean it all out.”

Grabbing the still hot filter with a rag, putting it in hot water. “And then you put this,” you spooned a small pile of cafiza into the flat filter in the basket. “And put it on a cleaning cycle. That’s kind of it…”

“What can I do?”

“If you want you can keep an eye on this,” you pointed to the lit button. “When it flashes you need to put it through the rinse cycle – just press it and it’ll go through.You could also pour hot water through the bottom, just to get everything inside rinsed out.”

Harry was quiet from next to you, nodding his head. You handed him the metal kettle, showing him where to fill it with hot water as you went to clean out the brew coffee pots. You worked through everything on autopilot, having gone through the same routine over and over that it came with no thought to you.

Keeping an eye on Harry with a smile tugging at your lips, watching as his brows pulled together as he tried to not spill any water other than where he needed to. Rinsing out the old coffee from the pots, you took a step away as the sink filled them with hot water.

“I had an idea…” you started, pulling Harry’s attention to you for a second.

Joining his side once more, you put your hand over his forearm. “I think that’s good,” you hummed. “No matter how much you clean there will always be grounds that find their way back – don’t worry.”

He nodded, putting down the little kettle as his back straightened with a twitch of a smile. “Anything you say, boss.”

You smiled through your words, giving his arm a little shove. “You got the paintings back from the gallery, right?”

Nodding, he kept his gaze on yours with curiosity in his eyes. The show (your show, as he called it) was a short-lived one, all the paintings were back in his apartment as he hadn’t put any of them for sale.

“Well I was thinking – and this is completely up to you – but what if you put one of them up in here?”

You saw his eyebrows rise in interest. “This wall here,” you motioned to the one behind him. “Is always empty. And it’s big and pretty uninteresting, so I was thinking if you wanted… you could but one of yours there.”

“For how long?”

“However long you’d like – it’d be like the café has it on loan.”

His smile grew. “And that would be okay?”

“I checked with the owner, she said that I can decorate the place however I’d like so…” you quickly leant over to the sink, shutting off the tap before facing him again. “It’s up to you.”

“You’ve already checked with her,” Harry grinned cheerfully, moving closer to you. “Thought this through, have you?”

You bit back a smile. “Yeah, I have.”

“I’d love to, I think it’s a great idea.”

“Really?”

He nodded enthusiastically. “I really do. Did you have one in mind already?”

“Well…” you paused. “I do – the big one of the café. With the yellow and the orange. I think I’d be perfect.”

He turned around, arms crossing over his chest as he faced the off-white empty wall. There were a few coffee stains towards the bottom that no one would notice unless they knew they were there.

“I think so too,” he nodded, glancing at you from over his shoulder.

You smiled widened. “Yeah?”

“Do you think I could go get it now – that we could put it up tonight?”

“That sounds perfect. Would you need help carrying it over?” You asked, as Harry was already walking around the counter to grab his jacket.

“It should be fine, I’ve carried it before.”

You nodded, watching as he grew more excited and ready to bolt out the door. “I can finish up closing here while you go get it.”

“Should I grab screws or tools or anything?”

“I’ve got some here – we have a little tool kit.”

He patted his pocket, grabbing his phone that was on the counter. “Lovely. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Before heading out towards the door, he moved around the corner of the counter so that he could grab a firm grasp of your jaw, tilting your head up to him. Leaning towards you, mouth hovering by yours as lips were barely touching. “Amazing idea, sunshine”

You nudge forward the slightest bit, fully connecting your lips in a lasting kiss before he headed into the cold air outside.

Finishing up your closing duties while he was gone, turning off all appliances that needed and screwing back in the filter once everything had been nice and soaked. You had already started to count the coins before closing, so the final cash out didn’t take too long.

You were doing some extra tasks to help out the opening staff for the following day, when a rattle of a knock was heard on the glass of the front door.

Jumping in your skin at first at the surprising noise, quickly calming down when you saw Harry waving at you through the window. Fast step over to the door, you propped it open for him so that he could slide the bigger than you remembered canvas inside.

He had it wrapped in brown paper to protect the outside, leaning it over the wall by the door as he ran a hand through his hair that had fallen over his forehead.

“That was fast,” you said, making sure you re-locked the door after letting him in.

“It’s close by,” he shrugged, grabbing hold of the wrapped canvas once more as you helped him bring it around the counter. “Are you all done with everything?”

“Yes – and I texted my boss and she said it's no problem to stay a bit later to put this up tonight.”

You grabbed the small folding step stool from the back, along with the tool kit that you hoped contained everything that was needed.

“Here we go,” you placed the box over the counter. “What did you need?”

“Screws, if you have them.” He hovered close next to you, watching as you rifled through the various things. “They’re better at holding up canvases – more stable.”

“Aha,” finding a little bag that contained a couple dozen screws, all of various lengths and sizes. Harry fished out a few of them, deciding that three should be enough for the frame to hang off of.

You watched as he vaguely measured out the wall and where to place the screws, promising that he knew what he was doing and wouldn’t end up with unnecessary holes in the wall.

Lifting yourself up to sit over the counter as he got the screws into the wall, occasionally leaning forward to hand him whatever he needed. Once he was done getting the wall ready, you watched as he hoisted the painting up in order to hang it up evenly.

“Does that look good?” He called with a glance over his shoulder, prompting you to step back and see if it sat leveled over the wall.

“Move it over a bit to the left,” you called, seeing as he followed your suggestion. “That’s good.”

He hopped off the short step ladder, joining your side to check how the painting looked on the wall. “It looks really good up there.”

You simply nodded, admiring the way it already made the space warmer. It was large, covering a good chunk of the otherwise bland space.

“What gave you the idea?”

Falling to the side to rest your hip against the counter, Harry followed your motions as if you were tethered together and he couldn’t stand being too far away.

“It’s kind of a full circle – no?” You hummed, resting a hand over the counter that he quickly picked up in his, mindlessly playing with your hand as you spoke. “I mean the first time you came in, you asked me how to get your art up there. And now…”

Trailing off, the thought finishing itself as you had gotten one of his paintings on the walls indefinitely.

He was quiet for a moment, a moment long enough that it had you glancing over at him. He had his eyes trained to the side of your face, a dreamy look in his eyes.

“What?” You mumbled with a little laugh, when he didn’t say anything.

He shook his head, eyes flicking between yours and the newly hung painting. “Nothing, it’s just, I – I adore you, you know that?”

You sighed blissfully, a smile playing on your mouth. “Hm.”

“Hm?” He repeated back to you with a laugh, turning around you so that he could face you. His hips bumping with yours, he made it impossible for you to avoid his stare. “What do you mean by ‘hm’?”

He was invading your every sense, a welcomed invasion to you. Dipping his head down to skim his nose over your jaw, letting your hands fall to their place over his shoulders.

“How do you feel?” He breathed against your skin, lips nudging over you. Your hand pressed over his chest, pushing him back the slightest bit so that you could see him.

You played with the hem around the neckline of his shirt, looking into his heavy gaze. “Can’t get enough of you.”

He blinked slowly, forehead resting against yours. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you hummed happily, palms sliding over his shirt covered chest. “I don’t want… any more miscommunication, you know? I wanted to know, just how things are with us…?”

A smile teased his lips. “Are you asking me if we’re together?”

“Well…,” you hesitated, before straightening out your spine. “I am.”

“Do you want to be together?”

“You’re really good at turning questions back on me, you know that?”

He laughed, forehead moving from yours as he brought hand to cup your jaw, thumb brushing over your cheek. “You do it more than I do, know that?”

He followed his words with a nudge of your nose with his mouth, quick lick over the skin.

“Stop that,” you mumbled, turning your head away from him but not having much room to do so as he kept a grasp around your jaw.

“Stop what?” He brushed over your cheek, teasing you with light kisses over your face.

“Just,” you dug your fingers into the fabric of his shirt, nudging him against you as he pulled his face away from yours for a brief moment. “Kiss me.”

His lips curved upwards once more, eyelids fluttering as he leant back in. “Whatever you say.”

Slipping your hands around his neck, pulling him closer to you as your smiling mouths met. He easily held you against him, free hand wrapping around your back. Lips easily parted as soft kisses were shared. Breaking apart for a brief second as he nudged your upper lip with his before firmly capturing your mouth.

Nails tapping along his jawline, pulling him as close as possible as your mouth followed the path of your fingers. Tips of his hair tickling your nose, your teeth grazed his earlobe before whispering. “I’m yours.”

A shaky breath was heard from his still parted mouth, moving his head back so that he could meet your eyes. “Everything –” he said “– the world is yours, know that? Including me.”

He didn’t waste another second, mouth trapping yours once again after your shared confessions. He pushed himself oh so close, drawing out a quiet whine from your throat as his lips grew greedy.

Peppering kisses to the corner of your mouth, teeth grazing over your chin before making a line of wet kisses over your jaw. A Kate Bush song played on the speakers, you didn’t have the capacity to remember it at the moment.

Eyes briefly parting open, remembering where you were. “You know everyone outside can see us, right?”

He paused at your words, glancing up at the slightly fogged windows that covered the front of the café. The sky hard turned a dark shade of blue, bright lights coming from inside of the café meaning anyone walking by outside could see you. “Not too worried about them.”

You shook with a quiet laugh, a brief shove to his chest as he kept you hugged to his body. “Plus the counter hides our bottom half anyway so –”

“Harry,” you laughed louder now, shaking your head. “My boss could check her security cameras at any moment.”

“Fine, fine” he stuck his bottom lip out.

Your fingertips traced mindless trails over his neck, pressing a lasting kiss over his mouth to keep him quiet.

Harry fell from your front, keeping an arm around your back with his side still pressed close to yours. “Looks good up there,” he hummed lightly, nodding his head towards the painting.

“You painted it.” You followed his eyeline, glancing up at the large canvas.

“But you inspired it – really mean it you know.”

“Mean what?”

“The world is yours.”

Your head fell against his shoulder, taking a moment to rest together as both of you faced the painting. Arms crossing as you held each other close, the warm light of the café flowing through the windows and to the street outside.

The two of you nearly mirrored the painting that hung proudly, soft touches of affection that could only be seen from outside if someone was really paying attention. If one were to be walking past on the street, they would see nothing but a warm reflection of growing love. And just as the title of the painting: you could stay there for hours. And you did.

la fin. (for now).

thank you to everyone who has read and enjoyed my little story, it really means the world to me💞 come by and chat if you’d like, and until next time !

#here she is 🥺#i hope everyone enjoys and please come let me know what you think ! ily to everyone #okay im off ! happy reading everyone #cb #harry styles writing #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #harry styles smut

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vivianweasley · 4 years

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Pride and Prejudice (Chapter 6)

Summary: Your father is Lucius Malfoy’s cousin, and after the war, it was really difficult for you to find a job because of your last name. So your mother and Mrs. Weasley came up with a crazy idea. A fake marriage between you and Fred Weasley.

Last Chapter! (I combined the last chapter and the epilogue cuz they are not too long.)

Pairing: Fred Weasley X Malfoy!Fem!Reader

Warnings: food mention, mention of divorce, people pretending to choke, proposal.

Word Count: 1.8k

Disclaimer: photos used in the header are from Pinterest. Credit goes to the original owners.

Please do NOT repost or translate my work on any platform! Thank you! Reblogs and comments are always welcome:)

Pride and Prejudice Series Masterlist

Fred walked downstairs, noticing a faint smell of apples in the joke shop. “So are we selling apple juice now, Georgie?” he joked.

But George looked confused, “What apple juice? I could only smell caramel-” And then the answer finally came to George, “Amortentia!”

Fred followed George to the shelf displaying amortentia and immediately realized a firecracker just exploded next to this shelf, causing at least four bottles of amortentia to break and the love potion inside to spill.

George waved his wand and cleaned up the mess, but a satisfied smirk soon appeared on George’s lips, “Strange. Didn’t know you liked apples this much.”

“Shut up and go back to work!” Fred raised his voice, covering for the fact that he’s a complete mess now.

That fainting smell of apple that’s still lingering in the shop also had a dash of the scent of book pages in it. And this combination could only remind Fred of one person.

You.

The person whom he married out of a dare. The person who he fell in love with during the process. The person who just walked out of his life.

George noticed the change in Fred’s expression. How defeat was now written all over his face. “Mate, you need to do something. You can’t just let her walk away like that.”

“What can I do?” Fred sighed, “Maybe she’s been waiting for this all the time.”

George sighed with Fred. This wasn’t like his brother. Soon the lingering smell of amortentia caught his attention, and a brilliant idea popped into George’s mind. “She has feelings for you too, and I can prove it to you!”

You pushed open the door of the joke shop. George just called you claiming that there’s an emergency, so you rushed to the joke shop immediately after work.

George approached you with a small glass vial, “Y/N, this is the new perfume I just made. I need your opinion.”

So this is the emergency??

You looked at George, couldn’t decipher what his smile meant. But you did know one thing. In fact, everyone who went to school with the twins should know the rule: be careful of what they handed to you. So you stepped away from that vial and asked with caution, “When did the joke shop start selling perfume?”

“Oh, we are always trying to expand our business,” George noticed how you became alert, so he added, “I swear to Merlin, this is not a prank!”

Still finding his smile suspicious, but for Merlin’s sake, you still decided to take the vial.

“Does it smell good? What does it smell like?” George asked carefully.

“Hmm...” The perfume did smell very good. You could smell the sweetness of cinnamon, a dash of gunpowder, but it also smelled so familiar. It smelled like...Fred’s cologne? “George, I’m pretty sure someone else has already made a perfume like this.”

“Really? How so?” George felt his heart beating at his throat, so scared that you might say another person’s name.

“Isn’t this just Fred’s cologne?” You were finding this unbelievable. How could George not recognize his own twin’s cologne?

“Oh really!!” Hearing a definitive answer from you has made George so happy that he pulled you into a hug. “Got it! Thank you for your opinion! You’re the best!”

“You’re welcome...?” Watching George being so happy that he could start dancing at any minute, you were beginning to think that the chemicals in the perfume were toxic. How could making a plagiarized perfume make a man so happy?

Two days later, you apparated to the joke shop again. It was raining outside. Maybe the weather was trying to set the tone for what was about to happen next. After taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door of the twins’ apartment, the apartment that you called home for the past year.

Fred opened the door, letting you in without saying a word. You tried not to look at him so you could appear indifferent and won’t be affected by his expressions.

“Here’s the divorce document,” you said as you took out all the paper in your bag. He took the documents and flipped through the papers quickly, still not saying anything at all.

You couldn’t tell if his silence meant he’s also not ready to say goodbye or he just had nothing to say to you. But you tried not to overthink as you continued, “Oh, before you sign it, you still have one wish left. What do you want me to do?”

“What if I said,” he finally looked at you, his eyes capturing yours, “I don’t want you to go?”

His words were like a drum in your ears, rendered you speechless. Before you could fully process what he just said, Fred continued, “It might sound crazy, but for the past few days, I realized I just couldn’t imagine a life without you anymore. I know I’ve lived 20 years without you perfectly fine, but now that I’ve had you in my life, I don’t ever want to live without you again. I know I could be insensitive sometimes, and I probably did something stupid that made you mad in the past year, but I’m willing to change if you tell me to.”

“All I’m trying to say is,” he took a deep breath and continued, “Please allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you. And please don’t divorce me.“

You finally let out a soft laugh. That’s Mr. Darcy’s line in Pride and Prejudice. You remembered reading this part to him during Christmas, and you couldn’t believe that he actually memorized this line.

Fred panicked when you weren’t talking, “But of course, if you really want to, I wouldn’t stop you. I-“

“You know, you don’t have to use your last wish on this,” you stopped him, “I was going to say yes anyway. But If you insist, that won’t be a problem with me.”

Fred’s eyes widened as he processed your words, “Wait, does that mean-“

You answered his question by pulling him down and pressing a kiss on his lips. He was shocked by your sudden action but soon kissed you back with his hands finding your waist and pulling you closer to him.

So this is what it feels like to kiss him, and it’s so much better than how you’ve imagined it would be. It started a soft kiss but soon became more passionate, as if you were making up for all the time you two spent on being oblivious.

“Should’ve done this earlier.” A smirk appeared on Fred’s lips when you finally pulled away.

“Idiot,” you rolled your eyes, but your cheeks were still heated.

He chuckled before giving you another soft peck on the lips. His hands were still resting on your waist.

“And you’re still this idiot’s wife.”

～(warning: people pretending to choke, food mention)~

“Y/N, there’s a Mr. Weasley looking for you,” the receptionist raised her eyebrows and smiled at you.

“Thanks! I’ll be done in a minute!” You quickly finished the last sentence and looked at Luna from across the table with your puppy eyes.

She chuckled, “Alright, you can leave early today.”

“Thanks, Luna, you’re the best!” You flicked your wand to pack up your bag before running to the door.

“Tell Fred I said hi!” you heard Luna’s voice behind you.

“I will!”

A month after your fake marriage ended, you quit your job at Whizz Hard Books. You didn’t want to work in a place that wouldn’t accept who you really are.

Ginny introduced you to Luna Lovegood and The Quibbler. You immediately fell in love with the whimsical ideas and style of The Quibbler, and Luna gave you a new job as you two hit it off very quickly. So this is where you work now. No need to hide your background and use a fake last name. This place accepted you for who you are.

Fred was at the door, opening his arms when he saw you running to him. “Happy one-year anniversary, darling!”

You giggled as you ran into his arms, “and this time, it’s real.”

“Yep,” he pressed a kiss on your forehead, “ready?”

You nodded, and the next second you two apparated to your favorite restaurant.

The dinner was delicious, and for dessert, Fred ordered your favorite cake. But when you were enjoying the cake, you suddenly felt something hard inside. This was extremely dangerous, for you could’ve swallowed it if you weren’t paying attention. You were just about to complain when you finally realized what it was.

It’s a ring!

You were surprised. Was Fred trying to propose? But last time you checked, you two were still legally a married couple.

But this also seemed like what he would do on your one-year anniversary. You were sure he was waiting to see your surprised face, and an idea soon came to you.

You pretended that you were trying to pick up your spoon because your elbow “accidentally” swept it down on the floor a few seconds ago. When you were sure Fred couldn’t see you, you slid the ring on your finger. Then you got up and took another bite of the cake like nothing out of the ordinary happened.

A few seconds later, you started coughing. Your brows were furrowed as your hands reached for your neck like you just choked on something.

Fred was freaking out, knowing that he’s the reason behind all this, “Darling, are you alright?”

The only response you could produce was a few glottal sounds and you looked like you were almost crying.

Fred ran to you as fast as possible. He wanted to help, but he had no idea what to do as his brain was in an absolute mess now. The only thing he could manage to do was apologizing again and again, “I’m sorry. It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have done that. Baby, I’m so sorry…”

The noise you two were making attracted the other customers’ attention, and you saw a waiter approaching you with his wand, trying to help. You knew it’s probably time to stop this prank.

“Are you talking about this?” You finally stopped acting and waved your left hand in front of him.

Fred’s expression froze, still trying to recover from the terror of accidentally hurting you. After a few moments, he finally realized, “Wait, does that mean…”

“YES!” You chuckled.

Fred’s furrowed brows finally unfolded as a bright smile appeared on his lips. He picked you up and spun you around, “She said YES!”

The crowd around you was clapping and cheering while your husband was cheering himself as well.

You giggled, “Freddie, you know we never went through with the divorce, right? So technically, I’m still your wife.”

“I know, darling, but I figured that I owe you a proper proposal,” he said while pressing multiple soft kisses on your face, “Plus, I just want to make this official. I love you, darling.”

“I love you too,” You smiled as your lips found his again, “I love you most ardently.”

A/N: I can’t believe I really finished this series asdfgfgjk Thank you guys so so much for reading, reblogging, commenting, and liking this series. I can’t tell you how much your support means to me❤️

Series Taglist: @ifilosemyselfagain @theweasleytwinsgirl @bookworm06 @unabashedbookscollector @txtdreamss @sagittarius-flowerchild @rsheridan @ovrwd @anywherebuthere @allaroundaddict @jeminila @secretsofageek @magical-spit @freddieweasleyswife @lilypad-55449 @hufflepuffzutara @honey-honey-5644 @kyloren-peterparker @treblebeth @kyloren-peterparker @fred-sux @rodrickmalfoy @liliputbahn @its-yasbxtch @daydreamgirl8 @305weasley @awritingtree @lucymfer @bberree @malfoy-wife15 @weasleyxmalfoyxstyles @justfollowtheroad @nojamsonmytoast @amc723

(If your name is bolded, Tumblr wont let me tag you. And I’m really sorry if I forgot you!)

(General taglist in reblogged post cuz it can’t fit in one post)

#fred weasley #weasley twins #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley series #fred weasley x malfoy!reader #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction

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neesieiumz · 4 years

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Live Accident {Katsuki Bakugou x Black!Female!Reader}

Summary: You are an up and coming beauty influencer and content creator on YouTube. Some say you are a miniature version of Jackie Aina, keeping it real and taking shit from nobody. You live a private life due to wanting have somethings for yourself, including your significant others. But accidents happen, it was an honest mistake.

A/N: I know I said I was gonna have this hereby Friday but things happen. This idea came to me randomly, and I worked with it. All the Stars chapter 7, I’m gonna put it out before the end of the year... I know that for a fact, so keep pushing me please. So with that being said, enjoy this oneshot I wrote for all my black queens...

Word Count: 5.9k

It was his red eyes that pulled you in, they were one of a determined man, one who was too determined. His ideals and attitude pushed away a lot of people who had just met him, but not you. You were intrigued, you wanted to know what made this man tick, why he was so loud, explosive, why his circle was so small. It took an effort for him to even let you in, and before you knew it, you two were in a relationship for one year.

You met Katsuki at an exclusive event, you were only in the industry for a couple of years and wanted to expand your brand. There were a lot of people in the industry at that gala, from famous agents, managers, other makeup artists, people who you knew could get you into higher places. There were not only people in the entertainment and influencer industry, but there were also pro-heroes there, for both protection and to enjoy the gala. You were there with your other YouTuber friend and were talking amongst yourselves, taking a break from all the fake smiles and even faker laughs. The two of you were currently talking about another collab when two people came over, dragging over another person into your conversation. It was a man and woman dragging another man, who, mumbling under his breath, didn’t want to be dragged into the conversation.

“Hi, there!” The lady interjected, helping the red-headed man pull the ash-blond on to where they were all standing.

You both stopped your conversation to look at them, the girl was pink, pink all over, from her hair to her skin, it was pink all over for her. She was wearing a black, velvet, strappy, mini bodycon dress with strappy heels to match. The red-headed guy was wearing a simple black suit, white shirt, and black bowtie, and his long hair was slicked back into a man bun. The man that they were pulling over to us was wearing a deep burgundy suit with a black shirt and tie with a chain connecting the flap of the suit jacket to the pocket.

You were about to say something but one of the guys, who still couldn’t remember their names, cut you off even before you could speak.

“Can I help you?”

You took a moment to get a better look at the three of them before recognizing them from the hero course at UA, “Oh my god, you three went to UA, you were in the hero course right?!” You exclaimed, making them all stiffened and turn to look at you.

You recognized the uneasiness in their eyes, so to ease their concerns, you put your hands up in surrender, “I went to UA as well, I was in the business course though.”

Your explanation made them all relax, and they all straightened up to face the two of you.

“My name is Mina Ashido but my Alias is Pinky, because well, you know,” she said, pointing at her pink skin and pink hair.

You nodded and gave her a smile before facing the two other men who came with her. One was facing you and the other was facing the other way, looking into the crowd. Both of their eyes were red, yet one was filled with kindness you’ve never seen in a man, and the other man’s eyes were filled with an arrogance that, while you’ve seen the look in other men’s eyes before, something about him that wasn’t arrogance but more of well put confidence.

“My name is Eijirou Kirishima, Alias, Red Riot! And this….” He dragged out, turning the other man around to face all of us.

His face screamed of boredom, he didn’t want to be here. Arms crossed and his nose flared to the point I could see his nose hairs. His face honestly looked so funny, you couldn’t help yourselves but laugh.

“Dude, what’s with your face?” You let out while chuckling at the same time.

He tensed up a little before turning to glare at you, his face not deterring your laughter, “Heh?! What the fuck are you talking about?!”

He only made you laugh harder, your explanation coming out in between laughs, “you...look...like you constipated.”

“Shut up before I kill you!”

You started to calm down a little, your friend handing you a glass of water to help you soothe your throat. His two friends were looking back at him while holding back their laughter while he just glared at four of you laughing at his despair.

“And this is Katsuki Bakugou, you may know him as Dynamight…” Kirishima finally finished introducing him.

You decided to call it a truce and held your hand out to him, “My name is Y/n L/n, it's nice to meet each of you.”

He looked down at your hand and wasn’t gonna shake until Ashido used her elbow to nudge and he slightly turned to glare at her and she hushed her head to point at me. The two of them were speaking to each other with their eyes before Bakugou rolled his eyes and shook my hand.

“We didn’t just come here just to get to know you, Bakugou here has a proposition for you, Ms. L/n.” Ashido motioned at him, making me tilt my head in question.

You wondered what he could do, especially since you just laughed in his face about his face and the fact that he’s a hero, what could a hero need with a Youtube makeup artist? Bakugo placed his hands in his pockets, searching for something.

“So my parents are fashion designers or what-fucking-ever, and they tasked me with if “I ever see you, to give you their card or some shit. They “apparently” want to work with for a video or whatever you do, I couldn’t be bothered to fully remember the details,” he pulled out his wallet and handed you the card.

Your eyes widened at his half-assed proposal, you slowly grabbed the card and looked at the names on the card, Masaru and Mitsuki Bakugou, CEO of Relz Brand. You damn near fainted at the names and your friend had to catch you before you made a mess of yourself. You had to catch your breath and your friend ordered you another glass of water.

“Relz?!? Your parents own the most relevant fashion brands in Japan and they want to work with me?!” You managed to squeak out once you were able to down some more water.

“I mean, you’re good at what you do and my mom has a knack for finding the next “top person”, her words not fucking mine.” He looked away, you were too busy looking at the card to notice his cheeks burning red but his two friends and your friend saw as well.

They all smirked in his direction and Ashido even nudged her elbow into his side, making him push her off and straighten up his outfit. You started to nod once you realized that you were staring at the card for way too long. You opened your purse and placed the card inside it.

“I’ll be sure to give them a call, thank you so much for this opportunity,” You bowed in gratefulness to him and he just hissed under his breath but you all heard him.

“Don’t fucking thank me yet, thank me when your collaboration is the best fucking one out there. Pinky, Kirishima, let’s go, I’m fucking tired.”

Before you could say anything to him, he and his friends had already walked away. Kirishima and Ashido both looked back to give you a thumbs up and mouth “good luck” and words similar to that.

---

You were walking out of the Relz office, having a successful meeting with Mitsuki and Masaru, and already have a draft of a contract for your exclusive collection with them. Their marriage was one that you loved, and you could see where Bakugou got his explosive behavior from.

“THAT BRAT, CAN’T EVEN GIVE A SIMPLE FUCKING BUSINESS CARD!!” Mrs. Bakugou yelled, slamming her hands on the desk, making some of the papers fly.

“Now, dear, at least he gave the card, he doesn’t work here remember?” Mr. Bakugou said softly, bending down to pick up the papers that fell.

“Shut up Masaru! Anyways, Y/n dear, we’ve seen your videos, we’ve seen the interactions, we think that you would be the perfect person to have an exclusive collaborative line with our brand? We think your style is just what we need here at Relz and would love to work with you.”

You smiled at how much you got done at the meeting, and was about to walk out when you ran into a hard wall of flesh. You took a couple of steps back, trying to catch yourself when you felt two hands grab at your shoulders to be able to steady you. You looked up to find Bakugou holding you and giving you a look that had no fire behind it.

“Bakugou? What are you doing here?” You asked before realizing how stupid of a question that was. He gave you a blank stare before you realized the only reason he could be here, “sorry that was a stupid question. Of course, you would be here, your parents own the damn place.” You chuckled, taking another step back as he let go of your shoulders.

He didn’t say anything, instead just shoes to look at you up and down, taking a look at your outfit, “you were in a business meeting with my parents?” He asked, shoving his hands in his jeans.

You nodded and glanced down at your outfit, which was a long sleeve bodycon dress while holding your jacket in one hand and your bag in the other. You took this time to take a look at what he was wearing, some black baggy jeans, with a tight black t-shirt and a leather jacket. He had circular sunglasses, possibly to deter anyone from recognizing him. Your eyes stayed a little too long at his chest before looking away, feeling your cheeks burn.

“You… look good,” you complimented, making him raise another eyebrow at you.

“Just good?” he questioned while smirking at you, steeping closer and bending down, leaning into your face.

His closeness made you squirm a little and you pushed his head away, “move, you all up in my space.”

Your actions just made him laugh loudly but he refused to even move from his position making you try and walk around him but he just grabbed you by the waist and started pulling back from where you came. From the elevators, but this time he walked over the private elevator that led straight to the CEOs’ office.

“Hey!” You started to fight him, “let me go!” You struggled to get out of his grip but that just made him hold you tighter and walked to the private elevator faster.

“Bakugou! Bro, fucking let me go!”

He ignored what you said and fished out a key card and swiped it, unlocking the elevator and the doors sliding open. He hauled you into the elevator and closed the door and pressed the button that led them straight to The Bakugous’ office. Once it was just the two of them, Bakugo let you go and you pushed him before standing up straight. You fixed up your outfit, fixing the ponytail your braids were in. Once you looked presentable once again, you turned back to the ash-blonde man before giving him one of your deadliest glarest which he just returned with a smirk.

“What is your fucking problem? So we just kidnap people now? That’s not very heroic-like!” You exclaimed, going into your bag.

He ignored what you said and just said, “I need you to come with lunch with my parents. It’s unbearable every single fucking time cause all they ask about is “Katsuki, are you dating someone?’ “Katsuki, where’s your girlfriend?” It gets so fucking tiring at times!”

You narrowed your eyes while you looked at him, “so you want me, the girl who just got out of the meeting with your parents, whose literally is about to collaborate with them and doesn’t want ANYTHING to jeopardize this, to come with you to your private family lunch?!”

He looked at you and nodded, making you facepalm, “let me off, let me off right now!”

He grabbed you and pulled you closer to him, “Hey, hey, let’s not do anything too rash,” he said, making you give him an annoyed look.

“Like dragging the first girl you see to a private lunch? Sounds pretty rash to me.” You said, making him look away and roll his eyes.

“Okay, if you do this, I’ll make sure that you don’t lose the collaboration,” he bargained, letting you go.

You crossed your arms and stared at him and he stared back at you. You contemplated this, you could also use this lunch to woo them even if they have some wavering thoughts about collaborating with you… but you wanted something else from this as well.

“I want one more thing.”

He groaned out loud, “fucking what? What else could you want?”

“A real date with you.”

He choked on his spit. You laughed at his ration, even pulling out your phone to take a picture of it. He glared at you making you smile cheekily and raise your eyebrows in rapid motions.

“You’re joking right?” He asked, pulling out a water bottle from his book bag.

“On the contrary, I’m not. Since your parents want you to get a girlfriend, might as well start somewhere. Right?” You suggested, smiling at him.

He looked at you before hissing under his breath, “one date, and if I don’t like it, never again.”

And before you could say anything, the elevator doors opened and his parents were staring at the two of them. He looks back down at you and offers a hand, “let’s do this?”

You look at his hand before nodding and take it.

---

Okay, Bakugou can admit. You’re a fun person to be around… whenever you're not chasing him around your penthouse trying to put makeup on him. It’s been two months since he had you join him and his parents for lunch and since he took you on an actual date, taking you to one of his favorite restaurants where he challenged you to eat the spiciest thing on their menu… which led you to postpone your scheduled video recording cause your lips were so swollen, it hurt to talk, let alone put any products on your lips. He laughed for a good hour and every time he looked at your lips, he couldn’t help but let out a chortle.

Today was his day off, one he hasn’t had in over a month due to being one of the busiest and most reliable pro-heroes out there. He wanted to take the longest nap, he hadn’t been able to catch up in his sleep in a while and decided to crash at your place. He knocked on your door, a large duffle bag on his right shoulder, which held his sweaty hero costume. He waited for a moment, holding his wrist close to him to look at the time. That’s when he heard the lock unclick and the door open to find wearing nothing but a silk robe and your faux locs pulled back into a messy bun. The both of you just stared at each other, while he had nothing but a smirk on his face, you held a questioning look on your face, wondering why he was here without calling.

“Let me in?” Is all he said, making you roll your eyes and take a couple of steps back to let him in. He walked inside and headed to your living room as you closed the door behind him. You tightened the rope around you as he flopped down on the couch, throwing his duffle bag somewhere across your living room. He spread his legs and cracked his neck as he could finally relax after

“So…” You started, “you mind telling me what you're doing here?”

Bakugou groaned, turning his body to lay down on her couch and snuggling into her throw pillows, “Can’t. Fucking tired.”

You rolled your eyes before grabbing a spare pillow and hitting him over the head worth it, “Come on, out with it. What happened?”

He signed and turned around onto his back, snuggling with a pillow and looking up at you. His eyes told you to come here and so you crawled on top of him and sat on his midsection and stared down back at him. You both stared at each other, your eyes speaking to each other.

“Had a bad day with the fucking media, had them questioning my ability to be a hero again and I wasn’t in the right “mental space” to deal with them so I fucking lashed out, Kirishima had to pull me away from them before I broke someone’s camera or face, I had no idea which one.” You couldn’t help yourself but laugh at that last line.

“The media can be devils, trust me I know,” you said, reaching down to softly scratch his scalp. It was a recent thing you found out about him, helped him relax more even if he hated it. This time he didn’t fight you on it, making you realize how much of a bad day this was for him.

“Anything else?” You asked him, laying down against the pillow on his chest.

He shook his head before taking his arms, reached around and grabbed at your waist, and pulled you even closer to him. For a whole the two of them just laid there, not moving, no one saying a thing. You could feel his speeding heart slow down as he could finally relax after his hectic day.

“I have a day off tomorrow,” he mumbled in your head.

You hummed, “Is that so?”

“Yeah…”

After that, it fell back into the comfortable quiet. Nothing but the both of you hearing each other breathe. You knew he needed this, yes he’s an explosive person but even the angriest person needs time to cool down, and honestly, it makes your heart race when you think about the fact that wants to spend that time with you. You both sat there for another ten minutes before you looked at your overhead clock and saw it was almost time for you to go live on Instagram. You promised your fans you would give a live makeup tutorial and your real-time review of a palette that’s taken the industry by storm.

You softly hit his arms, “let me up, I got work to do.”

He groaned loudly at that, “the FUCK you gotta do wearing nothing but a silk robe?!?” He complained but removed his arms at the same time.

“I promised my people I’d do a live makeup tutorial while live-reviewing a critically acclaimed palette, and it’s almost the time I promised to go live and I need to get ready.” You got off him and stretched, cracking your neck as well.

You walked over to your linen closet and grabbed a large blanket and walked back to where he was still laying down on the couch. He had pulled out his phone and was answering back some texts, probably Kirishima and Kaminari asking if he's okay after what happened today. You threw the blanket at his head, making him drop his phone. You started to laugh as he pulled the blanket away from his head. He glared at you making you laugh harder. Your eyes were closed and you were hunched over so you didn't notice the pillow he threw, hitting you on the top of your head, knocking over the bun in your head. He busted out in laughter, making him roll over and fall off the couch.

“Ah fuck,” he hissed, holding his head in his arms.

You stopped laughing, and quickly went to him in concern, “you okay?” You were only able to wrap your arms around him for less than a minute before he pushed you away and used the couch to push himself up. He stood up straight and grabbed my waist to pull me to my feet as well. You bent down and grabbed the blanket and shoved it in his hands.

“You have a headache, so how about you lay down, I’ll get you some spicy chips, ibuprofen and you need to take a long-ass nap after it. I’m not taking no for an answer,” you demanded, grabbing his hand, leading him to the guest bedroom.

“I don’t wanna fucking sleep in there, it smells like your brother,” he complained.

He took the lead and headed straight to your bedroom, opening the door and body flopping onto the bed, taking the blanket and wrapping himself in it. You leaned against the doorway and glared at him, “really, my bed? My fucking bed?”

He didn’t answer, instead just pulling the blanket tighter in his hands. You took a deep breath before walking into your bathroom and grabbing a bottle of ibuprofen from your medicine cabinet. You walked out of your bathroom and walked to the kitchen to grab a water bottle and a bag of hot Cheetos before heading back to your bedroom. Holding the items in one hand, you crawled on your bed and tapped at his head repeatedly until he popped out the blanket and glared at you.

“Here,” is all you said, showing him the things in your hand.

He looked at them and then back at them before pulling a hand out of the blanket and grabbing all of the items in one fell swoop. He pulled the blanket back over his head and rolled over. I rolled my eyes and crawled off the bed and walked towards the door.

“Try and take a nap, I’ll only take about two hours on live and then we could order something to eat okay?”

He just groaned and flipped you off, making you scoff and walk out the door, closing it behind you. You tightened your robe and walked into your beauty room, where you record all of your videos. You turned on your lights and placed my phone on the stand you bought for having lives. You made sure you had everything, your snacks, your makeup, and everything. You tested your camera out to make sure you looked good in the lighting you had.

Pulling your hair back into the messy bun that Kat messed up, you pressed “Start Live.” and started your live makeup tutorial.

---

I know you told Kat that you would be done in two hours but you couldn’t help yourself, you had to create at least 3 different looks, one after another. Was it good for your skin? No! But did you care? No! This palette was perfect, and you really couldn't help yourself when it came to palettes like this. But Kat was very privy to time management, when you said two hours he would automatically believe you would only take two hours. But you’re black, time is always an illusion to you. It’s been three and a half hours and you were in the middle of blending green into black when all of a sudden the door flew open.

Right behind you. Where everyone watching your live can see the 6’4 pro hero wrapped in a fluffy green blanket walk in, well more like shuffled in the room. Before he could say something, you quickly turned back around and ended your live before they could see or hear anything he may have wanted to talk about. You turned back around and stared at him, mouth wide open. He glared back at you in confusion.

“I wasn’t done with my live.”

He slowly registered your words, nodding his head which was still messy from his nap before his eyes widened in realization at your words.

“You were still live… which means that people just saw me walk in your room with a fluffy blanket wrapped around me…”

You slowly nodded your head and the two of you just stood there in silence….

That’s when both of your phones BLARED out in notifications, calls coming in, text messages, notifications from social media. Both of you quickly went to your phones and scrolled through them to find Japan’s hero and beauty online community in an uproar.

“FUCK!” Kat cursed, flinging the blanket aside, pulling up a chair, and sitting down.

Both of you started looking online, trying to see what everyone was saying before you got a call. It was your P.R agent. You groaned as you answered it and waited for her to shout at you.

“Y/n M/n L/n… mind telling me what’s going on?” Her voice was eerily calm, too calm which made you even more nervous.

“Um, so I may have made a mistake...”

“A MISTAKE??? AN UP AND RISING PRO-HERO WHO HAPPENS TO HAVE A BAD REPUTATION WITH THE MEDIA WAS JUST SEEN IN YOUR HOME BEING DOMESTICALLY COMFORTABLE!”

You winced at her loud voice and looked over at Kat to find him on the phone with his hero agency, wrinkles appearing in his forehead and him pressing against his temple.

“I know, I know Ami, I know who he is....”

“So if you know who he is, then why are you being SEEN with him, do you WANT to lose your collaboration with Relz?!? Need I remind you that this is your FIRST major collaboration and you’re gonna ruin it by sleeping with the owners’ SON?!?!”

You sighed as you tried to explain that his parents already know about you and Kat but Ami went on a rant that could have gone on for days about how irresponsible you were and you just sat there, checking your nails. You checked on Kat and he wasn’t frowning anymore but more in deep thought. You turned back into your conversation with Ami, and she told you that she’ll be at your place in twenty minutes and TO NOT LEAVE YOUR HOUSE.

You rolled your eyes and told her you wouldn't and she also mentioned that Kat had stayed as well and asked if he was in touch with his agency’s P.R which you confirmed. You ended the call and turned your phone off, not wanting to talk to anyone you knew until you figure out what to do next. You crossed your arms and waited for Kat to get off the phone as well. Soon enough, he ended the call with a “Whatever” and rolled his eyes before ending the call and throwing his phone somewhere, not caring about what happened to it. The both of you just sat in silence, relishing in what just happened…

That your… could you even call it a relationship…? Was out for the world to see. Ll because you couldn’t let go of the palette.

“Kat…” You started, your voice was heavy.

“No.” Kat’s voice was sharp, he wasn’t looking at you. His eyes squeezed shut with his fingers pinching at the bridge of his nose between his eyes.

“I can hear it in your voice… it’s not… it’s not your fucking fault this happened. Yeah, you told me two hours but things happen, should have fucking knocked on the door or some shit like that.”

You said nothing, deciding to eat and walk over to him, sitting on his lap and moving his head to look at you.

“How’s your headache?” You asked, mumbling it while holding him close.

“Better than before, but I can still feel it.” He mumbled in your chest.

You hummed and grabbed his hand and you both walked out the door and headed to the living room. Before you went you grabbed a soda and a water bottle for him while we waited for my P.R agent to come through. You gave him the water and he grabbed it and began downing it, while you took sips of your soda.

“While we wait for Ami, can we talk about… what this,” you gestured to the both of you, “is?”

You and Kat honestly didn’t have a label to your relationship, he wasn’t in for labels, and for a while, you were okay with that but recently you’ve been thinking and even though this was an accident, it still provided you with the time to ask him the questions you’ve been holding back from him. Kat lifted his head to look at you, looking at you to continue your thought. You sighed and leaned back into the couch.

“We’ve basically been acting like a couple without us putting a label on it? So what are we?” You asked with finality, waiting for an answer.

He leaned back into the couch but kept his eyes on you, spinning on what’s left of his water. Both of you stared at each other, this seemed like a regular occurrence between the two of you. The two of you are just staring at each other. He blinks at you before looking away and grabbing the remote.

“Don’t ask me any stupid questions like that. You think I would waste my time with you and not thinking of you as my partner or some stupid shit like that?”

You stared at him, blinking a couple of times before reaching over and smacking him dead in the back of his head. He hissed and turned around to glare at you.

“I have a fucking headache and you know that shit!” He shouted at you, throwing his empty water bottle at you.

You closed your half-empty soda bottle and whacked him across the head with it, making him stand up and glare at you.

“Alright, now we gotta fight.” That is all he said before grabbing you by the waist and hoisting you onto his shoulder.

“Let me go!!” You shouted, hitting him on the back.

He ignored you, did a little evil laugh as he ran back to the bedroom, and straight threw you on the bed. Before you could catch your breath, he threw himself on top of you and started tickling you. Before you could catch up with what’s happening, you burst out in hysterical laughter. You tried to push Kat away but he just pressed into you further, tickling you harder. The both of you continued like this for while before the both of you heard someone clearing their throat.

He both of you looked up to find your P.R agent standing there, leaning against the doorway, arms crossed glaring at the both of you. Kat rolled his eyes and rolled over to get off of you. You sat up and fixed your robe before getting off the bed to greet Ami. You both bugged although she was a little more hostile with her hug. You backed and allowed her to come into the room, she walked over to your dresser and pulled out the chair and sat down, and turned around to face the both of you.

“So let’s stalk clean up, while on my way here, I noticed that Mr. Dynamight’s reputation is going up, yours on the other hand is being dragged through the mud. Now if I were Dynamight’s P.R agent, I would not do anything, but I’m not, I’m Y/n’s agent, and right now, here’s what believe that we should do…” She was about to explain everything when Kat got a call again from his agency.

“Hold up,” he answered the call.

“Hello?” a pause. “Oh, you’ve already done it?” another, longer pause “her P.R agent is here and I don’t think she’ll like what you’ve done.”

You looked at him confused, glancing at Ami who narrowed her eyes at Kat, glaring with every bit of poison in her eyes.

“Well, what’s done is fucking done… can’t change nothing about it…” That is the last thing he says before ending the conversation.

Ami and I were both about to ask him what the conversation was about when Ami got a notification on her phone. She pulled it out and looked at it. Her eyes widen in shock and she quickly stood up and glared down at Kat who looks like he couldn’t give any more of a fuck.

“YOUR AGENCY ALREADY PUT OUT A STATEMENT AND SAID THE TWO OF YOU WERE DATING?!?!”

You blinked in shock before turning your head around to look at Kat who looked back at you and shrugged his shoulders. You took a deep breath and shook your head and turned back to Ami who was a glaring fire at Kat.

“Do you see what they are fucking calling her out there?! This could ruin the collab which YOUR PARENTS set up anyways!”

Kat looked back up at Ami, “check your phone again.”

Ami looked confused before pulling her phone out and checking it, still looking confused before something popped up on her screen again which made her eyes widen.

“You got your parents to release a statement?”

You grabbed your phone to look at social media and sure enough on the Relz Twitter Page was a statement saying that they do not control who their son wishes to be with and that anyone involved with him deserves to be working with the Relz brand… You giggled to yourself because they said that Y/n deserves the world for putting up with their emotionally constipated son.

“I didn’t make them do shit. They like Y/n and they “think she’s good for me” their words not mine and so they wanna make sure everything goes as smoothly as possible considering this is the first time they are collaborating with an influencer for a designer brand…. Or some bullshit like that.”

Ami looked at Kat in shock before turning to you, “well, things are turning around, they may push back the launch date of your collaboration but other than that… you may come out of this scot-free, you may actually get more fans which means more media, especially since you are now dating a pro-hero, a pro-hero who is well-liked by young women across Japan, be careful, okay?”

You nodded and got up to hug her, you could tell she was ready to leave.

“Thanks so much, I know I give you headaches all the time, but I couldn't be me without you, Ami.” You held her tight and she returned the gesture.

“And you,” she pointed at Kat, “stop fighting with the media, or we’ll have some problems.”

He simply waved her off and continued scrolling through social media. Ami rolled her eyes and leaned up near your ear, “and this is why I like Deku over him.”

You giggled and told her to not let Kat hear you say that before she left our bedroom and soon enough she left your house. Once she was gone, you were able to relax and flopped on the end with Kat. He said nothing as you moved his arm around you and snuggled into his side. The two of you just sat in silence before…

RAWWWWR….

You lifted your head to look at Kat whose face was flushed and was looking over to the side, looking anywhere but where you were. You giggled a little before reaching for your phone, opening up your favorite pizza place’s app to order.

“Does pizza sound good?”

“I don’t give a fuck.”

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pixelwisp-archive · 3 years

Text

Itadakimasu!! | Part 5: I Didn’ Ask (Written Chapter)

word count: 1.7k

Atsumu Miya was handsome, that was an undeniable truth. So naturally it would make sense that his identical twin brother would be, well, identical - and yet, you couldn't help the state of shock you found yourself in as you stood before him, your once buckling knees relieved of their pressure as his very large arms grab the box from your hands with a grunt ('lemme take that, looks heavy'). In all honesty, the fact that he was that good looking pissed you off, and watching him be kind, albeit taciturn, to you after bullying you for a month straight on Twitter (okay, fine, it was a mutual bullying, but he definitely started it) only made your scowl deepen. Your eyes narrowed at his back and you turned toward the van with a huff, finding another, perhaps lighter box to take inside.

"This place has been collecting dust for years, ya sure you guys can make it work?" Miya's voice was deep and rich, every syllable dripped with his Kansai accent. The unfamiliar sound made your chest bubble and you had to stop yourself from outwardly groaning in frustration. You crossed the threshold of the new place and your mouth fell open as you took in the shops current state.

The shop was- well, let's just say there was a reason it was so cheap. Even still, your eyes glittered at the potential you saw. The exposed beams looked in near mint condition as the sun filtered through the windows and soaked the unstained wood in a warm morning glow. It was empty, save for some appliances that definitely looked antique (the thought of being able to restore them made you drool), but the space had more than enough room for café style seating, and maybe even a section for a corner library or a stage for live music. The stairs to the two bedroom apartment that resided directly above the shop space, where you would be living, was tucked away in a hallway off to the side. You made a mental note to make sure it was a bit more livable than the current shop situation downstairs, and motioned for him to settle the boxes along the main counter.

"We're planning on restoring the kitchen within a few weeks, then setting up a pop up stand out front to make revenue while we renovate the rest. Hoping to be fully open come summer." He merely hummed in response as he brushed off the dust left on his hands. You were caught up in your own world, detailing in your brain every minute detail you planned on changing when Kuguri stumbled in through the front door, giant box obscuring his vision as he tripped over the step. "Ah, careful, looks fragile." Miya rushed over to help, taking the box and allowing Kuguri to steady himself. Kuguri blinked, warmth hitting his cheeks as he mumbled a small thank you.

“Don’ mention it,” came Miya’s slightly strained reply as he set the box down next to the others. The room fell into a less than comfortable silence and you tried to look anywhere other than at the man currently standing in your dining area. Kuguri cleared his throat and tightened the grip on his suitcase as he made his way over the stairs. "I'm gonna go check out the apartment. I'll be back in a bit." You shot him a pleading look but he mouthed a quick 'sorry' and scurried off, leaving you alone with the Other Twin.

More uncomfortable silence. You felt warmth rush to your face as you grew more flustered with each beat, neither of you willing to break the tension that had been slowly pervading the air around you like a dense fog. The suffocation ended up winning out over your stubbornness and you turned your head to look at him, embarrassment flooding at the sight of his eyes already on you.

"Uh, thanks, you know, for the help." He gave you a tight, forced smile, uttered a quick 'yer welcome', and began to make his way towards the side entrance. Arms crossed in front of you as you watched him open the door, the tiny alleyway and side entrance to his own shop coming into view. Miya paused at the open door and turned his head to look over at you, a smirk settling on his face.

"By the way, little creepy of ya to stalk us and rent out the space next to us. What are ya lookin' for here? I hope you know this new development doesn't change anythin' between us." Your eyes widened at the sudden change, your brain working overtime to try to process what he said. Once you had caught up to the moment, you scoffed.

"Oh please, Miya, as if. The world doesn't revolve around you. We bought this place over a month ago." His eyes shone with something you couldn't quite place and he let out a small chuckle, one that sounded far too innocent in comparison to his hard gaze. "Whatever you say, Paradis." You scrunched your nose at the familiar nickname, shaking your head.

"Don't call me that; I have a name, you know." Miya turned around to face you fully then, the smirk ever present as he leaned against the frame, his hand still grasping the handle to the shop door. "Ah yeah? You guys don' mention names on your Twitter, and I was always too (again, petty) lazy to bother lookin' it up," he drawled, deepening your frown in response.

"It's L/n Y/n." Miya's lazy smile upturned ever so slightly.

"Ah, I didn' ask, but thanks."

Embarrassment crashed over you once again and you felt the heat creep up your neck and ears. Your glare seemed to be filled to the brim with hellfire as you bore holes into his back. He turned to leave, and you followed after him, taking hold of the doorknob and watching him make the short distance back to Onigiri Miya's side entrance.

"I noticed you call me Miya, it's quite formal of you,” he noted, now at his own door. You let out a less-than-ladylike snort and waved your hand. "I wasn't being formal - coincidentally, I just also didn't bother looking it up." He laughed then, and it was a nice laugh, and you hated how nice it was with every fiber of your being.

"Osamu," he said, the smugness oozing off him, as if you were just dying to know his name and he decided to humor you. You stepped backward to make room for the door.

"Ah, I didn' ask, but thanks," you mocked, accent and all. You threw a shit eating grin and a quick wave his way before promptly shutting the door. When you saw what seemed like the five stages of grief cross his face in a span of a few seconds, you knew that putting Osamu Miya in his place was going to become your favorite past time.

Based on the way you two had tweeted each other over the last month, Osamu had deduced that you were probably a woman. What he wasn't expecting, however, was just how cute you ended up being. If you had been anyone else he probably would have been nothing short of a perfect gentleman; carrying all the boxes, smooth talking his way through conversation, and working himself up to asking you out. Unfortunately for him, though, there was just something about you that got under his skin, and he genuinely couldn't figure out what it was.

Osamu stood alone in the alleyway, giving himself a moment to process the last forty-five minutes of his life. Paradis Bakery, the company he's been openly beefing with on Twitter for the world to see, not only opened a second location in Osaka, but moved directly beside Onigiri Miya, in the place he had been looking into purchasing for at least six months now. The abandoned café was supposed to be a plan B in case Tokyo had to be pushed off for a few more years - being able to expand Onigiri Miya would have been huge for them if they couldn't swing the Tokyo location, and Kita had been more than open to the idea of expanding. When you said you purchased the café over a month ago, he remembered inquiring about the place at least two weeks prior to Atsumu's visit to your bakery, and the owner mentioning that someone had put in an offer. The sheer coincidence honestly creeped him out more than anything; he didn't like the feeling that fate was behind this because if it was - why?

Osamu shook off the goosebumps and decided he'd worry about fate intervening when it actually decided to do so. Turning toward his own shop, he hustled into the store with tense shoulders and a furrowed brow. Why was he so worked up? He's well aware that he's the one who started the whole social media war between you, and it's not like you guys actually had any reason to hate each other - you were just doing it for the attention. So why does he have this familiar feeling of contempt coursing through him at the mere thought of you?

"Osamu, are you okay? Ya sleep well?" Osamu snapped his attention to Kita, who was standing in the kitchen, already beginning food prep for the day. Kita's knife paused its assault on the spring onions as he waited for an answer.

"Ah, yeah, I slept fine Kita. Ya meet the new neighbors?" Kita nodded, resuming his ministrations. If you didn't know Kita, you would have just assumed the polite smile was just that - Osamu knew better though, and the slight upturn had a hint of what looked like mischief behind it. He gulped at the thought of Kita plotting.

"I met L/n. She's very nice." Osamu face scrunched at the mention of your name, which didn't go unnoticed by Kita, who's eyebrow shot up in surprise.

"You don't like her?"

"She's...fine." Osamu walked into the kitchen, putting on his apron as he washed his knife in preparation for the salmon.

"Honestly, I'm surprised, I thought you'dve taken a likin' to her if anything." Osamu grunted in response. "I dunno what it is, but there's just somethin' that rubs me the wrong way."

"Give it time, she may warm up to ya."

Osamu doubted that.

Prev | Masterlist | Next

Fun Facts -

Tendou got an earful when you called him that day, and he bit back a laugh every time you angrily mentioned how hot Osamu was (’Oh my god his face??? his arms??? Why’s the universe gotta have favoritism for the worst people’)

After hours, Kita also got an earful from Osamu - and he also had to cover his smile with his hand whenever Osamu angrily mentioned how cute you looked when you scrunched your face up. (’-and then she snorted, actually /snorted/, at me and while it was adorable it was rude as hell. She’s rude as hell, Kita.)

Kuguri rushed upstairs partly because he couldn’t stand the tension, but mainly because he wanted first dibs on bedrooms.

A/N: ahhh I’m SO sorry for such a long wait, I never intended to take nearly a whole ass week to post - I started a new job this week with weird hours so I had to adjust, plus this chapter actually gave me a little bit of grief haha (thank you lark for pulling my head out of my ass multiple times). But exciting things happen!! Y/n finally meets osamu and its awkward and annoying and they’re both so hot what do we do oh no~ I’m very excited to see how their relationship progresses through the next few chapters lol. Anyways I hope you guys enjoy, feel free to pop into my asks if you want to talk about the fic, or your day, or would like to be added to the taglist!! As always, thank you so much for reading, I love you guys!

Taglist -

@larkspyrr @oikawaandkuroostan @fucktheworlddude @doctorspencereid @keiarma @cherriechurros @halesandy @k3nma-fairy @jewlmin @tabipleats @kaleidoscopekai

#Itadakimasu!!#osamu x reader #osamu miya smau #osamu smau #haikyuu smau #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq smau #osamu miya x reader #hq!! smau #hq!! x reader

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phoenixtakaramono · 3 years

Text

Does Bing gē Have Descendants in ‘The Untold Tale?’

This topic has come up a few times since The Untold Tale takes place in the PIDW universe (post-Bingge vs Bingmei extra), I figured I might as well compile and archive my official answer here for me to refer my AO3 readers to in the future for convenience’s sake. I hope everyone doesn’t mind. :) I’m always happy to answer questions!

TL;DR

Q: Will we see Bing gē having fathered children with his harem of 600 or so wives in TUT?

A: For TUT, the answer is a definite “no.” There were a lot of factors which’d contributed to my decision. I’ll try to explain my reasoning down below.

Context

In PIDW, it is canon that Luo Binghe has a bountiful number of descendants with his harem of 600-or-so wives. It is a detail that has been mentioned even in ch1 of SVSSS and in ep1 of the donghua.

(SVSSS Excerpt - ch1)

(SVSSS donghua - ep1)

I like to plan things ahead of time. So from very early on, I knew this would be something I would have to decide on whether or not to address when I’d finally decided to expand TUT from just a prologue into a full-blown story. And after contemplating it, I decided against adding children into the story. It is because 1) it would make the situation more complicated, and 2) it would take TUT in a different direction that wouldn’t be fun for me to write.

I’m a very decisive writer, meaning when I make my mind up about something, chances are I won’t change my mind. This is because I would have already planned it into my plot outline, which means changing a decision would require me to change other details in the other chapters I have planned for that story. (I’m typically not a spontaneous writer; I try not to write spontaneously because when you’re a writer who rotates through multiple WIPs with different characters across different genres or writing styles, you inevitably have writer’s block because you probably won’t remember all the ideas or the direction you had whenever you return back to a different WIP. To reduce this shortcoming, it helps me personally to have a plot outline. This way I can return to any WIP, read my notes and then transcribe them into legible paragraphs, find a way to transition between the story beats I have to hit for that chapter, and then eventually post the final draft to AO3 when I feel it’s ready.)

Having made a decision, I knew I had to set it up in TUT and give a “reasonable explanation in-story.” Hence, in ch2, we see:

(Excerpt I - ch2)

Basically the set-up is TUT takes place post-Bingge vs Bingmei, but between “the third or fourth book” of the hypothetical PIDW webnovel series aka before Airplane wrote the fanservicey chapters where the luckier of LBH’s wives give birth to children during the harem drama plots and the children are probably rarely, if ever, mentioned again in the story as a lot of stallion novels tend to do.

(Excerpt II - ch2)

(Excerpt III - ch2)

Contrarian Tendencies

You know the saying: Monkey see, monkey do? In my case, it’s monkey see, monkey do not do.

A little fun fact about me as a writer: if I have already seen a fanfic where someone has already written a concept or idea into their story, chances are I will just avoid it entirely in my own stories. I don’t know why this aversion exists, but I’m assuming it’s because of my counterculture hipster inclinations and an intrinsic fear of plagiarism which has been beaten into all of our skulls since adolescence. There’s nothing wrong with being inspired by other people’s works. Technically everything’s been done before in writing so, as a writer, a good rule of thumb is to always try to give it your own unique spin on things. So for me, my brain somehow interpreted this a step further. This is a reason why I try to avoid reading stories from whichever fandom my WIP is from during the writing process of updating a fic, because this is how I get influenced. Once I see an idea or interpretation from another fanfiction, it influences me to not want to write it into my own. This is a very strong unconscious impulse for me. I guess this is just the neurons in my brain’s thinking that this way, it won’t be something my readers will have read before and the story idea will come across as different or fresh, and mine. In a way this is also how I show respect for fanfiction writers in the same fandom—by being inspired to not be inspired, ha. I like to think every story in the world serves a niche audience, so seeing a diverse range of originality and interpretations in a fandom is a good thing. This is also how I feel when I am able to identify certain popular tropes or depictions or patterns in a fandom; 99% of the time, it makes me feel a compulsion to “go against the grain” or write the opposite. For example, you have no idea how long it took me to come around the idea of incorporating the fanon “A-Yuan” into TUT. However cute it is, the moment it dominated the fandom (well, “dominated” is an exaggeration; it’s more like I’ve seen enough, especially in the Original LBH/ SY | SQQ tag), my gut reaction was to nope out of using it. But after seeing a lot of comments in my inbox with readers affectionately calling SY “A-Yuan,” I’d contemplated it for a long time and it wasn’t until ch4 that I decisively decided that yes, I can have Bing gē calling SY “A-Yuan” in TUT—but it has to be at the right moment for maximum dramatic and emotional impact. (See this thread that started it all. And this is the small sneak peek I wrote where LBH will call SY that for the first time.) <- This is the rare 1% where I actually conformed to what’s popular.

In this case, when I finally decided to expand the prologue into a full-blown story, coincidentally I had just recently read a good Binggeyuan (Bingyuan) fanfic which featured a kidnapped Shen Yuan interacting with Bing gē’s harem and LBH’s children/descendants. I’d liked their portrayal and even thought the children were cute. <- However, with me having reading this, the problem came up: I felt the familiar stubbornness in me rearing its head. So knowing myself, if I had included children, it is very likely the direction that I would have gone down for TUT would have been the opposite. To further complicate matters, you have to keep in mind the kind of writer I am. I tend to like grounding stories with a semblance of realism, no matter if the genre is pseudohistorical fantasy, romance, sci-fi, etc. And this writer has seen and read quite a few harem and palace intrigue Chinese dramas/ premises.

For further context, in those types of “historical” C-dramas^, in that sort of environment which fosters scheming, competition, jealousy, etc, it is almost expected to see heirs aka children aka descendants harmed along with the women. Innocent parties are often victims in these sorts of cutthroat premises, to underscore the underlying message the show or novel wishes to present. (See Ruyi’s Royal Love in the Palace. See Yanxi Palace. See The Legend of Haolan. See Nirvana in Fire. See The Rebirth of the Malicious Empress of Military Lineage. Etc.) And me being me, this would be the direction I would take. Remember, while TUT is meant to emulate a legitimate danmei C-novel reading experience in a fantasy world, I do drop pseudohistorical and cultural Easter eggs into the story. So trust me when I say you would not like the direction TUT would have gone down in, had I made LBH have children with his harem. I mean, theoretically yes, we could’ve seen endearing children characters from me, but you would have also seen me addressing a lot of the baggage that comes with (see Comment III Excerpt down below).

The situation with dissolving Bing gē’s harem is already complicated enough. As his romance with Shen Yuan develops, I didn’t want to have an additional headache thinking about how to address the issue of LBH having children already. Divorces in a pseudohistorical context is already a heavy topic—even more so when it’s divorces with children in the mix. Naturally I will still have SY and LBH eventually discuss the matter of legitimate heirs since LBH will essentially become the Sacred Ruler of all Three Realms and it’s a traditional precedent for an emperor to bed his empress, noble consort, and imperial concubines until he has his heirs (plural, because the rate of mortality was high in ancient China). In TUT’s case, at that point in the story SY will remind LBH that he’s essentially an immortal sovereign so there isn’t any need for an heir unless he wishes to retire. Furthermore, he will inform LBH that he could set a new precedent since he’s already different from the other emperors from history (with him being of half-Heavenly Demon and half-human cultivator lineage); as long as LBH is fully aware of all perspectives of the situation, he doesn’t necessarily need to conform to all traditions if this is something he really feels strongly about. But this future conversation(s) is likely the extent of it.

But wait, you say, what about a certain someone who’s going to be transmigrated as an imperial crown prince? Isn’t he going to be in that sort of vicious upbringing? <- Yes. But that’s an entirely seperate matter. In a way, since I’ve decided Bing gē will not have had any children or descendants in TUT, with Airplane, this now presents an opportunity for me to show the consequences of being one of the many children of an emperor with a harem of women vying for one man’s attention—and the power struggle that’d ensue in this kind of environment. It’s an interesting What-If parallel, if you think about it.

AO3 Comments

Although these are just small excerpts from replies I’ve written before, it’s nice and orderly to just compile them here for everyone since these will be buried underneath all the comments as TUT updates:

(Comment I- ch3)

(Comment II- ch4)

(Comment III- ch4)

Because of seeing comments that have asked me for my thoughts on whether or not I will include LBH’s children, I’ve had so much fun seeing theories thrown around: from LBH’s blood parasites being able to control conception, to someone’s headcanon about LBH being a hybrid and all that entails scientifically (think: mules). I will say in TUT, it’s more the former since in PIDW he’s supposed to have descendants; we’re pretending Bing gē doesn’t have any yet (and now definitely won’t, especially after having heard SY’s “prophecy”) because he subconsciously does not want children due to certain fears, trauma, etc. And his Heavenly Demon’s “blood parasites” (blood manipulation) is a convenient story device to explain why no wife has gotten pregnant yet.

I hope this explanation makes sense! Mainly I just wanted to have this archived on tumblr so that I have this post to refer to moving forward.

On a side note: especially since ch4 had been posted, quite a few people have actually mentioned they’ve read my replies to other comments and/or I have seen different people having hopped onto other readers’ comment threads (for example, imagine my pleasant surprise when I saw a reader you lovely person, you helpfully jumping in to respond to another reader’s questions about TUT, and their answers were actually aligned with what I would’ve answered!), so it’s always such a thrill whenever I see this level of engagement happening. I can’t explain why, but seeing this happening is just so cute to me. It really makes this writer feel so warm and fuzzy inside!

#svsss #bingyuan #bingqiu #the scum villain's self saving system #luo binghe #the untold tale #phoenixtakaramono #ask #technically not an ask #but i like to categorize it there #I mainly wrote this lengthy explanation on tumblr #bc I wanted to link this as ref #anytime someone asks me in the future regarding LBH’s kids #lol it’s actually not cinnabar pills hidden in a bracelet #it’s some sort of seeds which supposedly stopped concubines from being pregnant #I discovered this when I rewatched Ruyi’s Royal Love in the Palace #Do you all notice you have a unique writing syntax/ style #that’s how I can identify that you’re all diff ppl in the comments #one time an anon guest wrote something for G&G #and in the comment thread as another guest anon they supposedly agreed with the prev anon #in that case it was obvious it was the same person pretending to be another guest anon #and I can tell because their writing syntax/ voice is identical #which is why I’m so pleasantly surprised to see this phenomenon in the SVSSS fandom #you all have diff writing syntaxes #seeing you all interact with each other’s comments or my comments to other comments #is just such a delight ahhhhhh #I love the SVSSS community #you guys are so warm and welcoming

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shinjukuspiritcommittee · 4 years

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Top 20 2021

My Favorites (updated)

Hello my readers, it’s been a while since I just posted something not related to a headcanon and I am doing one right now. I just wanted to take a bit of a break to just get SOMETHING on here on my days off work. Plus I’m just trying to find my groove when it comes to writing again so hopefully this helps me just get back into the mood of making a post more often lol. I wanted to revisit this topic for a while just because we’ve had a lot more events and a lot more alts in the game were added. And I know for a fact LifeWonders reads these posts in some capacity because I have meme’d an AR into the game with my top picks from the last list I did for Christmas 2019. No I didn’t. I’m just joking around and I know LifeWonders doesn’t read this.

Anyways rather than just make up a list on the spot like last year I decided to use the Housamo Sortmaker (Link: https://club.housamo.xyz/sortmaker/ ) to try and make a list that’s more revealing to what I was thinking at the time. Since I talked about 20 characters ish last time I’m just gonna read from my 20th place to my 1st place spots and try to justify whatever I was thinking at the time. Anyways-

20: Marchosias and Susan: This one was a surprise for me if I’m being honest but I’m just gonna blame the fact on Shukou’s recent involvement with LifeWonders in the form of Live A Hero and how Ryekie and Mokdai live in my headspace rent free whenever I think about the characters in that game. Maybe we can see about getting some LAH headcanons since that’s a LifeWonders property too). So out of all the characters Shukou drew for Housamo why did I pick Marchosias? Easy, it’s been 4 years and this poor man has yet to receive a proper alt or any kind of skin for that matter and I think that it’s a crime. Sure he’s not my favorite but he’s definitely grown on me because he’s just a gentle dad kind of character and his design has grown on me over the years. I just hope he doesn’t get left behind since he has a lot of really interesting and potential things to look forward to in the future given how the main story has unfolded.

19: Shiva/Algernon: The helmet heads are together because DAI XT quickly became my favorite artist for Fire Emblem Heroes and I really just like their designs. DAI XT just knows how to draw robots, armor and muscles well. Also Chapter 11 with Shiva you can read into some interesting perspectives. I don’t want to spoil any of the untranslated content for anyone who’s waiting for the official english translation. But if you are curious Roureem has a blogspot where he posts summaries of the newly released events.

Link: https://housamosummaries.blogspot.com/

18: Cthugha: I love this goober so much. He’d constantly try to act super sentai just trying say good morning everyday. He may not be very bright but that just adds to his charm and honestly I enjoy how he always tries to play the hero in a lot of scenarios because it’s refreshing when they implement him after a bunch of heavy hitting story stuff. I’m not gonna spoil too much about it but I will say he’s more than welcome after everything Chapter 10 and 11 put the reader through.

17: Mineaki: I’ve made a post about him being one of my least favorites way back when I first started this blog and let me just say how times have changed and I’ve learned the value of not judging a book by it’s cover. I still think there’s something a bit off about Kowmei’s style for his characters, but Mineaki has definitely grown on me. He’s a caring instructor who does watch out for his students even if it’s not always in the most direct way possible. Not to get into too many spoilers he’s got a lot of intrigue around him as well and I am curious to see his role get expanded down the line.

16: Ded: Housamo is the reason I really like christmas. The Christmas stories despite following a similar structure to each other do tend to be my favorite stories. Ded himself is also just another good dad character. He’s also two guys for the price of one, so I mean… you know… you’ve got the forever ask your other dad situation. There wasn’t much thought put into this choice I just like santa as a concept because I think the outfits are cute, it’s always nice to get something for people you care about on Christmas and Ded is the perfect embodiment of both sides to Christmas.

15: Shinya: Everyone we need to manifest buff Shinya for 2021, this is not a drill. This is legitimate. We must make Taromati’s and my wish come true. To be more serious again he’s just a sweet and gentle character. He’s also drawn by my favorite Housamo artist. Their characters always just look so naturally good. I’m just surprised he hasn’t gotten much of an alt given he’s perfect material for Valentine’s day. He’s just a soft boy and I would love for him to be in more things because I just enjoy seeing him.

14: Jacob: I have to be honest Jacob is on here because every time I look at him he just gets more handsome to me. I wasn’t all that impressed with his introduction and we don’t know much about his background but I’ve just been drawn to him more and more. Maybe it’s just because he’s drawn by GomTang? I just like looking at him and I can’t help it. To speak a bit less crass he’s another gentleman kind of guy and those are always nice.

13: Shennong: Yeah I like the doc a lot. Firstly, I’m a huge sucker for big bulls and Shennong fits the bill. The white fur really adds to his appeal visually and the purple horns give off a bit of an unnatural appearance. Shen feels like someone who’s been touch starved and alone for a long time given how he acts as a character and when we actually hug him I just lost it. He always has others well being on his mind so he’s not afraid to jump in and help, or give a much needed lecture about when you need to take better care of yourself. He just comes across as very well balanced overall.

12: Heracles: I won’t lie- at first he didn’t interest me much. He looked incredibly plain when among the rest of the cast and he seemed like the typical “bait” character since the banner had Echo, Barguest, Gyumao and Snow. But after reading the translation for Valentine Time Slip I was taken aback at how much of a gentle giant he turned out to be and I just really liked his interactions with the others in that event. And honestly his special quest from that year was one of the more unique ones given the slower pace and more romantic vibe it had. After the event warmed my heart I did a complete 180 and I just knew I really liked him.

11. Yasuyori: Before I start praising him I feel I have to justify why he didn’t quite make top 10 and it will have some mild Chapter 10 spoilers. To be as vague as possible his resolution just didn’t vibe with me at the end of Chapter 10. Like it wasn’t a bad resolution and it was the right choice to make but in my opinion there really wasn’t a moment I felt was clear where he made a choice for himself. Everything just sort of happened around him and it felt like he didn’t really do much to improve his situation. To an extent I kind of see that being the idea given his origins and the story he’s based on and there is some semblance of him coming to terms with himself alongside his isolation being portrayed pretty well, but I just wasn’t satisfied with it as much as I would like to be. With that out of the way, oh my god I just want this boy to never stop smiling and I just want to give him hugs constantly please he just deserves to be happy!!! Yasuyori is a character who’s got a lot of baggage and he’s just trying to find ways to properly cope with his trauma and not repeat past mistakes and I just really like that idea. His role in Xmas 2020 (sorry I just forgot the name of that event, but its when he gets his alt) was a much better representation for his character in my eyes. I’m not gonna spoil anything like I keep saying but he isn’t one to disappoint in future appearances and I just hope this lovable lug keeps getting the support he deserves.

10: Hephaestus: A spicy way to start the latter half of the list. I just want to give this lad a hug and tell him he is worthy of love. But at the same time he is a little shit… and I love that. I can’t fully explain why I grow a paternal instinct in me seeing this grown man sob about his mother but I just do. I want to keep him safe and give him all the affection he wants. Though I am aware a lot of Hephaestus’s interest in his parental figure is… questionable. I am just gonna say I would accept his love for what it is and he just wants approval.

9. Shuten: I’ll be honest I have no proper reason for why I like Shuten so much. He’s just a cool and reliable guy. He just seems like a go with the flow kind of person most of the time and he’s a bit more direct than most of the characters which I always appreciate. Plus I have an unspoken bias for naop guys in Housamo.

8. Durga: While not number 1 on this list, I still really like Durga. She’s quirky but not to an annoying degree, she’s determined and definitely very confident in her own abilities. Her growing to be more sociable throughout her events is something I enjoy seeing because it really creates this sense of growth.

7. Kyuma: I get a lot of people don’t like Kowmei’s art but I really think we should look past it because Kyuma is one of the sweeter picks. He’s someone who just wants to prove himself for his own worth and not what David can provide, but David is part of him and it just creates the potential for a good arc. Plus this boy is unintentionally smooth and will just take your heart when possible. I honestly want to see Kyuma more in events because he’s honestly the jock that carries 3 of the 4 brain cells. He’s also the last one without an alt so I’m just hoping he gets one in 2021 because he really deserves one in my opinion. (Also fan art makes him really cute).

6. Tomte: Tomte is relatively new but honestly his event in 2019 really endeared me to him. I’m trying to be spoiler free because the best way to enjoy these stories is for yourselves but let me just say his arc in the event was really endearing to me and much more than I was expecting. His fan service is also incredibly hammy and I love it. Visually Tomte is one of my favorites, I love his multi colored hair and starlit pupils cuz it makes his otherwise more generic look have some flare. I knew I liked him out the box and when I read about him in the summaries and can’t wait to read the official translation for him. I was just very endeared.

5. Tetsuya: Tetsuya fucks. Moving on…

Jokes aside this one’s a bit simple. I have no shame in admitting I think he’s attractive and his whole resistance towards wanting a relationship is cute in a weird roundabout way. When he says no I just want it MORE. I just really like duo haired tsunderes.

4. Kengo: Kengo 3rd alt 2021. Please LifeWonders I need my favorite Summoner. He’s a bro and that’s what counts. Kengo has got your back, not afraid to rely on you, a very fun and dynamic guy. Sure he’s not that bright when it comes to making plans or any book smart, but there are times where he’s the best at being able to read the room or just understand what someone needs to hear even if it isn’t always what someone wants to hear. His bullheaded nature is actually one of his redeeming qualities because it’s nice to just not overcomplicate things and just understand what’s actually going on. Yes the early story didn’t do many favors for him but to me the events, especially the later ones, do much more work for his character. To me, at least.

3. Ashigara: Ashigara is best bear, and I will defend that stance in 2021. The main thing that draws me to Ashigara is that I can see a bit of myself in him. He gets very emotional when he gets left alone, he’s very loud when with his friends, has a tendency of speaking his mind- just someone who wears his heart on his sleeve. I also appreciate that in spite of the negative he isn’t someone who backs down when the going gets tough and in a few instances he’s able to hold his ground physically at least.

2. Wakan Tanka: Love at first sight. This ray of sunshine still persists as the number 1 husband, but number 2 character. Firstly I am a huge fan of the partial beast aesthetic. The buffalo ears and the horns are absolutely adorable. Secondly he’s a perfect body type; he’s not too muscular but not exactly flabby. Third he is just so positive and I love that. He’s someone I admire and wanna hug.

1. Taurus Mask: The more things change the more they stay the same. I’m still a big Taurus Mask fan for all the same reasons as last time. I just… relate to this boy. He is an incredibly shy boy who uses his public persona for confidence. Maybe I’m reading too much into it but it’s like we’re soul bros!

So yeah, my tastes haven’t changed in a year and a half.

#tokyo afterschool summoners #housamo #Just Thoughts #qna #sfw

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alwaysmychoices · 4 years

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Close Call

Synopsis: On their first day as a couple, Charlie and Ethan have a few close calls at work.

Chapter 13 of the “with and without” series

Previous Series: “a weekend with dr. ramsey”

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x MC (Charlotte “Charlie” Greene)

Words: 3.7k

Rating: T (language)

Morning came too quickly, and Charlie refused to greet it.

Ethan’s alarm went off sharply at 7 am, disturbing their peaceful sleep and effectively making Charlie miserable. Exhausted, Charlie clung to Ethan, burying her face into his shoulder so that she might convince him to stay. Though constrained by Charlie’s tight hug, Ethan deftly reached his nightstand and turned off the alarm. Once peace was restored to his bedroom, he eyed the woman in his arms with unreserved amusement and adoration.

Despite being tired, Charlie was exceptionally comfortable.

It had been so long since she had slept with Ethan that she forgot just how soft his king-size bed was, not to mention the comfort of his warm frame slumbering next to her. She had no intention of ever climbing out of this bed, nor did she intend for Ethan to do so either. For all she cared, nothing existed beyond Ethan and his lux sheets.

“Stay,” Charlie mumbled into his shoulder as she snuggled closer to his side, “Let’s call in sick and stay in bed forever.”

Ethan smiled softly, brushing a stray curl out of her face as he leaned in to kiss her forehead tenderly, “We have to go to work, Charlotte.”

Charlie narrowed her eyes. Had his sleepy voice not been so attractive, she might have been concerned that he used her full name.

“I’m Charlotte now?” she asked, kissing his shoulder as she added, “Not Charlie? Not Rookie?”

Ethan’s attempt at a stern expression melted the moment she said ‘Rookie.’ He couldn’t help but be happy when he heard that. Hell, he couldn’t help but be happy period. Everything felt right – like a million puzzle pieces had finally clicked into place. This was where they belonged. He felt so happy that he was sure that he didn’t deserve it. People like him didn’t get to experience this, did they?

“Charlie and Rookie would realize that they still need to go to work today,” Ethan teased.

“Only you would deprive yourself of a full day in bed just to save your sick days,” Charlie grumbled, squeezing him ever so tighter in a last-ditch effort to keep him from getting up.

It didn’t work.

In an exertion of enormous self-control, Ethan got out of bed and approached his closet. Despite the strong pull to return to Charlie and waste the day in her embrace, he began to dress. He only dared to look back at her once he was half-dressed, thinking that the clothing would help him resist her enigmatic charm.

Charlie, however, never looked away from Ethan. Propped up on one arm, she shamelessly eyed his bare frame, nearly put into a trance as she watched his back muscles flex to slide into his white button-up. When he turned back to her, she didn’t attempt to hide her obvious appreciation. Instead, she just tilted her head to admire the plain of exposed abs as his shirt hung undone.

“Are you watching me?” Ethan asked, laughing and attempting to downplay his swell of pride.

Charlie shrugged and leaned her head back to the pillow, never taking her eyes off him. She patted the empty side of the bed next to her and asked, “Are you sure you don’t want to come back to bed?”

Staying away from her felt like a herculean effort. Yet, to her horror, he managed to do so.

“We’re going to work, Charlie.”

Charlie groaned and made a show of rolling her eyes, her body fully collapsing into the soft mattress. She knew Ethan well enough to know that he never missed work, so a lazy day in bed had always been unlikely. But she asked because this precious thing felt so fragile. She dreaded keeping her distance in the name of professionalism, and her head swam at the prospect of maintaining their secret. As soon as they entered Edenbrook, things became difficult and complicated. In this bed, they were still simple.

From across the room, Ethan watched Charlie’s demeanor changed, and his resilience softened. Ethan approached Charlie and gently pushed her hair out of her face, forcing her to meet his gaze. Charlie was frustrated and stubborn, but the tender intensity of his stare encouraged her to lower her guard. He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead and whispered, “I’ll make you coffee?”

“You wouldn’t need coffee if you stayed in bed,” Charlie grumbled playfully, earning a warm, hearty chuckle.

“Still trying to wear me down?” Ethan asked.

“Always,” Charlie affirmed with an impish grin.

Finally, Charlie got out of bed, though it was begrudgingly done. Naked, Charlie walked to the master bathroom, feeling the heat of Ethan’s stare on her bare skin. Again, he was tempted, but he fought against her seduction and dragged himself back to the closet to hurriedly dress and escape the bedroom before he joined her in the shower.

As Charlie showered and got dressed, Ethan took Jenner for a walk and made a fresh, steaming pot of coffee. The smell lured her into the kitchen, and she found a mug waiting for her on the kitchen island. In the rush the night before, she hadn’t packed any clothes, so she was dressed in Ethan’s sweatpants and a t-shirt – both of which were comically long and ill-fitting. Last night’s rain turned Charlie’s hair into a wild mane of curls, and without her styling products, she settled for a ponytail to keep it out of her face. Charlie was hardly at her best, but of course, Ethan was at his. Dressed simply but professionally, he looked as if he had walked right out of a magazine page, and there was an air of happiness that made him even more irresistible.

Even though she had seen him a million times, Charlie still felt a flush of a crush, and her cheeks flared pink. And beneath the unreserved appreciation, she envied him just a little bit.

“You’re staring, again,” Ethan noted from across the kitchen, leaned up against the coffee and nursing his cup of black coffee. He had left out cream and sugar for Charlie, which she had quickly added to her own mug.

“Of course, I am,” Charlie retorted, stirring in a lump of sugar, “You look like that, and I look like I was hungover and raided a guy’s closet after a hookup.”

“I think you look beautiful.”

Charlie tried to play off his compliment, but her cheeks blushed bright enough for Ethan to know it had an effect.

“You’re just trying to sleep with me,” Charlie teased, sipping at her coffee.

“That’s absurd,” Ethan announced, leaving his mug on the counter to stand in front of her. His tall figure was imposing as it arched over her, and for the millionth time this morning, Charlie imagined undressing Ethan Ramsey. His hand on her jaw, he explained, “I want to sleep with you, and I think you’re beautiful.”

Charlie laughed, and Ethan felt a rush of happiness.

He liked making her laugh… And he had a sudden thought that he wanted to do it for the rest of his life.

He wasn’t sure if he was leaning into the idea or running away from it as he leaned down to kiss her. Soon, the thought was gone and replaced with the intimate regard for how the coffee tasted on her lips.

“Mmmm,” Charlie hummed as their lips parted, and with her eyes still closed, she softly added, “I should get home soon.”

“What?” Ethan asked incredulously. Home? Why would she need to go home? Ethan may have resisted her offer to stay in bed all day, but he thought he would at least share her morning.

“I ran here in my pajamas with only my apartment key, my cell-phone, and my debit card. I can’t just walk into work without my ID while wearing your clothes,” Charlie seemed so sure of herself that Ethan could only knit his eyebrows as he listened.

She was right, of course, but he still didn’t like it.

“You have scrubs in your locker.”

“But I don’t have my ID.”

“I can drive you home after breakfast, and then, I’ll drive you to work,” Ethan suggested.

“That will be inconspicuous,” Charlie mused sarcastically. Ethan didn’t appreciate her humor and anchored his hands to her side, trying to keep her there.

“I don’t want you to go,” Ethan admitted. His voice was quiet, like this was a secret only known to the two of them. It made Charlie’s heart melt.

“If you’d stayed in bed, I wouldn’t be leaving,” Charlie reminded him, unable to resist one more dig. She fiddled with his tie, straightening it unnecessarily just to stay a bit longer. Ethan chuckled quietly, watching her. The gesture felt incredibly natural and domestic, and he felt like his chest was continually expanding to accommodate even more affection for her. The sensation was warm and inviting, yet something about it nearly made him fearful. There were so many ways to ruin this…

“I’ll see you in about an hour anyway,” Charlie said it to remind herself just as much as him.

“I’ll miss you anyway.”

Charlie grinned so wide she felt like her face might split, and she kissed him.

It wasn’t their last kiss before Charlie left his apartment. He kissed her once more after she finished her coffee, and she couldn’t resist kissing him goodbye at the door.

As she walked home, Charlie felt completely and overwhelmingly happy.

She hopped over potholes and cracks in the pavement like she was skipping through a cloud. Everything felt right. The world seemed better, and the sun seemed brighter. She’d never felt this incredibly content. For the first time since she’d met Ethan Ramsey, she felt safe and secure in his affection. She felt free from months of miserably going back and forth, oscillating between obsession and rejection.

Charlie found a cab a few blocks away, and as she stared at the city, she found herself smiling and thinking of how Ethan’s hair fell in his face as he slept.

When she arrived at her apartment, Charlie was forced out of her daydreams by the fear of being caught by her roommates. She took the stairs two at a time and hesitated by the door, listening for sounds of movement on the other side. Hearing nothing, Charlie quickly unlocked the door and stepped inside.

To her surprise, the living room and kitchen were empty. Everyone seemed to be in their rooms, oblivious to Charlie’s entrance.

Charlie hurried to her bedroom. She threw on the first pair of scrubs she saw and shoved everything she needed into her bag. After, she made a show of leaving her room just as everyone else did, joining the morning routine as her friends sleepily milled into the kitchen to make coffee or grab energy drinks.

Charlie was shocked at how effortlessly she convinced them that she had been home all night. None of them heard her rush out of the apartment the night before, and none noticed her come in this morning. Her prepared excuses were unnecessary, yet not mentioning it felt just like lying.

She felt deep, sinking guilt as they carried on small talk.

It was hard to think of safe conversation topics. All she wanted to talk about was her night with Ethan, but she couldn’t. She desperately wanted to share her new relationship. She longed to hear their jokes and teasing, and she even craved their approval. She wanted her best friends to agree and support her, but really, she couldn’t give them the chance.

It was enough to dim the bright glow of her relationship for a moment.

Together, they commuted to Edenbrook. On the train, they talked and moaned about their respective tasks for the day. By the time they reached Edenbrook, the conversation was more playful. They teased Sienna for stopping for iced coffee on the way, and they accused Jackie of trying to imitate Bryce as she gulped down a disgusting protein drink in the locker room.

It felt normal, if just a little sad for Charlie’s secret.

It was remarkably easy to lie, but it took much more of her than she expected.

But the glow came back.

Because, of course, Ethan was there, too.

It took roughly an hour for the pair to naturally run into each other. Ethan had joined the interns for their morning rounds, so when Charlie found him, an exasperated frown had settled on his lips. Even as he looked grumpy and frustrated, he was remarkably handsome, and she felt butterflies in her stomach. She had an urge to rush towards him and kiss him, so it took a conscious effort to approach him casually and slowly.

Ethan knew to remain nonchalant when he saw her, but a smile pricked at his lips. Anyone paying attention would have seen the apparent change, and if they were particularly curious, they would have seen why. Luckily, Ethan didn’t notice anyone watching. Of course, he was so focused on Charlie that he could have easily missed it.

“Morning, Dr. Ramsey,” Charlie greeted him, and something about that familiar phrase felt spectacular.

“Greene,” Ethan nodded hello, clearing his throat in an attempt to maintain his grumbling tone instead of falling into the quiet whispers he preferred with her.

“Do you have a case for me?” Charlie asked.

“In fact,” Ethan nodded his head towards the patient chart in his hands, “I do.”

Charlie moved closer to look over the details with him. They moved towards a quiet corner under the guise of needing privacy for the patient. In fairness, they did address the case, but in the process, there were many shared, secret smiles and brushed fingertips. They were cozy in that corner – so cozy that Ethan almost didn’t notice the pair of interns approaching them.

“Dr. Ramsey?”

Ethan and Charlie separated instantly, and though they tried to act normal, Charlie felt like her heart was on the verge of beating right out of her chest from the close call. Ethan’s face settled into a hard line that nearly scared the interns off. Their impertinence earned his irritation, and should their question be anything ridiculous or unnecessary, that irritation would easily transition to outrage.

Charlie didn’t dare have an opinion on the two women walking towards them. She was too preoccupied trying to seem casual.

“Um, we’re having an issue with a patient,” one of them said once they reached the pair. She looked familiar, but Charlie didn’t know her well enough to remember her name. However, she did sympathize with how nervous she seemed. She remembered rounds with Ethan and that talking to him after felt like walking into flames.

Ethan stared expectantly, waiting for them to elaborate. When they didn’t, he prompted, “And that is?”

“Her symptoms have dramatically changed,” the other answered, offering a file, “She was admitted for difficulty breathing and a high fever, but she is now experiencing confusion and instability.”

Ethan accepted the chart, and he perused the information, he asked, “What is your diagnosis?”

“Oh. Uh, we… we don’t know,” the first explained sheepishly, “That’s why we came to you.”

Ethan raised an eyebrow, looking up from the file with a look that told Charlie the two interns were in for a hell of a time.

He looked back to Charlie as he closed the chart, “We will finish our discussing our patient later in my office where we cannot be interrupted by interns.” He eyed the two women, who gulped and stared anxiously. His gaze was enough to reprimand them for failing to do their due diligence, and Charlie certainly didn’t envy them.

Charlie nodded her approval and watched as Ethan left, the two interns following him. She left soon after, off to finish her morning responsibilities and check in with a few patients from the night before. As she did, she made a mental note to be more careful in public.

About an hour later, Charlie found a spare moment to visit Ethan’s office. She knocked on the door, and after a beat, she heard a reluctant, “Come in,” from the other side.

Ethan, having just finished cleaning up another intern’s mess, couldn’t stomach another visit from an incompetent intern. This particular batch felt unusually comfortable around him. They were more likely to approach him and expose their deficiencies and clumsiness than past interns had. He blamed himself for being too lax. Charlie had softened him.

When he saw a flash of blonde hair, he let out a sigh of relief. Charlie closed the door behind her, and he fell back into his chair, mumbling, “Thank God.”

Charlie laughed quietly at her greeting, “That happy to see me?”

“I am always happy to see you,” Ethan confirmed, standing from his desk to welcome her, “But I am particularly relieved you’re not an intern.”

Charlie raised an eyebrow as she reached the desk, “Oh?”

Ethan wrapped his arms around her waist, tilting his head to look at her better, “They’re far too comfortable talking to me.”

“Isn’t that your job as an attending? I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to talk to them,” Charlie teased, looping her arms around his neck.

“I’m supposed to train and educate them, not clean up their messes.”

“You helped me clean up mine,” Charlie challenged.

“You were an exception. Though you have a habit of making messes, you also clean yours up yourself. If I helped, it was a special case,” Ethan explained.

“Really? Because I distinctly remember being called incompetent.”

“You were,” Ethan remained firm on his judgment, “But now, you are exceptionally competent.”

“What an honor,” Charlie laughed, tilting her head up to look at him. She bit her lower lip, and it was all Ethan could look at. “I must have had a good teacher…”

Ethan smiled that sweet, tender smile that was just for her, and he kissed her gently. Charlie’s fingers tangled in his hair as she deepened his kiss. Everything was else was distant. All that really mattered was them.

Until they were interrupted again.

Knock. Knock.

Clumsily, Ethan and Charlie pulled away, and they shared a look of absolute panic.

“One minute!” Ethan called out as Charlie quickly tried to smooth his hair back down. He wiped his mouth to remove any remnants of her lip balm, and she straightened her white coat as she moved to the other side of the room, hoping to put distance between them as if that would hide how flustered she was. For a moment, she considered hiding behind his desk, but there were too many ways for that to backfire.

“Ethan?” the person on the other side of the door asked, and Charlie’s eyes darted to Ethan in a silent question. What the fuck was Bryce doing there?

Ethan shrugged helplessly as he moved toward the door, straightening his tie, and he opened the door before Bryce could knock again – or worse, walk in.

Bryce, blissfully unaware of the panic inside the office, stood there with a welcoming grin. Ethan couldn’t imagine why he was there and cursed his bad timing.

“Raf and I are going to try out a boxing class instead of going to the gym tomorrow. Since we’re all gym buddies,” Bryce nudged his friend, who still wasn’t sure if they were friends, “We want you to come, too.”

Ethan stared blankly for a moment. This is what they had been interrupted for?

Ethan blinked, “Um, sure.”

“Nice,” Bryce nodded at his victory, and that was when he caught sight of Charlie in the corner.

Her heart stopped, and the panic set in.

“Charlie? Hey, what are you doing here?” Bryce was still sporting his friendly, innocent smile, and Charlie couldn’t find a hint of understanding in his eyes. He seemed like he genuinely had no idea what was happening.

She couldn’t believe it.

This was the third time they could have been caught, and Bryce didn’t even notice their disheveled appearance or panicked faces. They had to be the luckiest people alive…

“I was just working on a case with Dr. Ramsey,” Charlie trod carefully, studying Bryce closely for any sign of scandal, but again, his expression was blank. She continued, “It was quieter in here.”

“If we’re working on cases in peace, I want in. The doctor’s lounge is so loud that I can’t think straight in there,” Bryce looked eager, like he hoped that the three would share some deep bond of friendship by working together in a shared office. There was absolutely no way Ethan would allow that.

“She’s working on a case with me. My office is not a lounge,” Ethan clarified, eager to get Bryce far away before he figured something out.

“Boo,” Bryce complained. He leaned further in the door frame to tell Charlie, “Somebody’s grumpy.”

Charlie stifled a laugh as Ethan firmly chastised him, “Lahela.”

“Okay, okay,” Bryce raised his hands in surrender, “I’ll leave you alone.”

Still, he stood there.

“Goodbye, Lahela.”

“Fine,” Bryce grumbled, finally stepping away, “I’ll text you the address for tomorrow.”

He walked slowly, waiting for an invitation inside, and instead, Ethan closed the door on him.

As soon as the door was closed, Charlie and Ethan looked to each other with wide-eyed confusion.

“What the fuck just happened?” Ethan asked, turning the lock on his door just in case, and he fell into the couch beside Charlie.

“I genuinely think he has no idea…” Charlie admitted, still looking at the doorway like it had some secret to tell.

“We need to be more careful,” Ethan murmured, wiping his face with frustration.

“Definitely,” Charlie agreed, and a silence fell over them as they processed their close call.

But, as Charlie looked down at Ethan, she had another thought…

“We do have a half-hour until people need us,” Charlie reminded him, shrugging innocently, but Ethan’s eyebrow raised as he saw through her.

“We’ve almost been caught three times today, and you want to have sex in my office in the middle of the day?” Ethan asked incredulously.

“You didn’t say no,” Charlie pointed out.

Ethan considered it. He knew to say no. It was an irresponsible, ridiculous suggestion. They were respected professionals. They couldn’t just have sex in the middle of the day.

But…

Ethan shrugged out of his white coat, dropping it to the couch as he stood. He pulled Charlie tight against him, devouring her as his hands slipped up her scrubs.

They did have a half-hour.

And they could always be responsible tomorrow.

Tag List

@honeyandsunfl0wers @jens-diamondchoices @desmaranj @octobereighth @flyawayboo @fanficnewbie @togetherwearerapture @perriewinklenerdie @noboundariesplease @paulfwesley @x-kyne-x @caroldxnvxrs @paisleylovergirl

@chasingrobbie @soft-for-drake @choicesyouplayandmore @crazy-loca-blog @playchoicesheaux @senseofduties @queencarb @save-the-sky @openheart12 @omg-its-vixen @odetomars @rookieoh @drakewalker04 @mysecretlifeofdaydreams @delaytheinevitable

@hopefulmoonobject @malvolari-take-my-soul @nomadics-stuff @the-pale-goddess @schnitzelbutterfingers @trappedinfandoms @heauxplesslydevoted @lilyvalentine @mvalentine @elwetritsche75 @jessirosebud @lion-ess24 @sturnsun @canknot @wonderwithrobin @jooous @eramsey28 @binny1985 @canigetanawwjunk @padfoot0415 @ermidc @beastlyinstrument @shanzay44 @dulcehernandez @starrystarrytrouble @lucy-268 @kaavyaethanramsey

@nerdydinosaursweets @blossomanarchy

Also, my tag list is acting weird, so let me know if it didn’t work and I’ll redo it!

#Ethan Ramsey #Choices #Choices stories you play #open heart #open heart 2 #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan x mc #oh2 #oh 2 #dr. ethan ramsey

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romanceboys · 5 years

Text

(interview) vogue korea april issue 2020 - perfect taemin

1. superm was another chance for taemin’s ever-evolving performance to be showcased. i thought a lot about how to create synergy with these exceptional performers. to put it simply, i wanted us to come off as energetic. but these days i’ve had a change of heart. our identity is definitely important. rather than just working hard, for superm to show off their colours well we need to show our personalities; we should be seen as one team. to be able to formulate a solid and clear colour is our homework. that’s why it’s regrettable. we couldn’t come up with a novel choreography to carry our new identity. we tried a lot in the practice room. superm seems to have found its musical identity but hasn’t gotten a hold of its performance character yet. the stages are too vague. 2. now that you are finally promoting with your best friend kai in one group, you two must’ve shared your concerns. since this friend is someone who has a lot of passion and ambition, he talks about various things. for instance, this style is pretty good, this choreography is quite trendy. thanks to him i’ve learned a lot. he is also very knowledgeable about the latest ‘hottest’ genres. we talk about these things often and even watch videos together. kai gives off ‘popular’ vibes. compared to him, my interests are quite unusual. nowadays kai is interested in music while i am into science. 3. is it science fiction? these days we’ve been watching videos on the theory of relativity and quantum mechanics together. 4. what aspect of it interested you? originally i was very curious, after seeing a recommended video on youtube i learned about quantum mechanics for the first time. i couldn’t understand the explanation, even those who were explaining it said it was a difficult concept. that was very fascinating to me. kind of like magic. 5. are you reading books on the subject too? the subjects of the books i read are different (laughs). there’s a book that was published long ago called ‘regarding the pain of others.’ it is a pessimistic book that gathers contradictory opinions of people for instance ‘people find joy in the pain of others, it is instinctual.’ as a celebrity, there are times when you are criticized but there are also times when you receive comfort from people. rather than blaming others, while reading this book, i began to think ‘people are like that, at most i shouldn’t behave like them.’ my interests are all over the place. 6. what makes you and kai click? we converse well. our opinions almost never clash and we respect each other. moreover, we fully understand our own roles in superm. 7. what position do you hold in superm? since i can’t ask if it’s the main dancer. in pictures and interviews, i’m the center. baekhyun hyung is the leader (laughs). 8. when the conversation wasn’t flowing well during the talkshow interview, i saw you neatly concluding it. that does happen. nct and wayv are still in the learning phase. that’s why i first listen to all of their thoughts during interviews then flesh it out with details later. 9. compared to when you set out abroad as shinee then promoting overseas as superm now, the status of k-pop has changed. looking at how superm was able to start off with an arena tour in the us and europe made me feel that k-pop is a ‘hot’ topic. in the past, we’d use venues of this scale for smtown concerts. even if you promote mainly in asia, seeing the audience section will make you realise the perception of k-pop has changed. 10. though k-pop’s scope has expanded and diversified, its definition has become simple. what are your concerns? my first concern is language. after i was able to communicate via language during my japanese activities, there were so many advantages. though each country overseas has its own language, i felt that i needed to learn english first. there are many international fans who want to experience the chemistry between our members, they’d feel much closer to us if we communicated using (a common) language. k-pop isn’t one dimensional. it’s not only about the music, there is music video, style, etc. included. people would make dance covers in the past, now they even emulate the styling. all of this is korean pop culture. 11. superm were on the ellen degeneres show and jimmy kimmel live. before we went on the ellen show we really rehearsed the interview a lot. america’s atmosphere is different so you receive questions that are never asked in korea. they don’t disclose the questions in advance either. we were also worried because the emcee could ad-lib. we came up with the most probable questions and practiced, we also received lessons from american comedians. compared to that, we went on jimmy kimmel live without any prep. 12. what went according to plan and what didn’t? the questions were not as intense as expected, ellen was well aware about k-pop culture so it went smoothly. 13. is there a dance genre you’re into these days? contemporary, lyrical hiphop, in the future as superm i think i’ll be able to show more, not the kind of dancing that you do after learning a given choreography but the kind that is full of emotions. it’s about giving meaning to your gestures. it isn’t out yet but my concert vcr features lyrical hiphop. in it i think i’m dancing alone with a giant full moon as my backdrop but get confused when there are two of us, either it’s another person or a shadow. a choreographer with a body type similar to mine had to dress in all black to come across as my shadow. i wore an oriental outfit with smokey makeup. 14. how do you usually come up with your ideas? i get inspired by the choreographers and creative directors. i imagine it as we converse then the idea develops. 15. was there a time you were inspired by fashion? of course. art begins with the five senses. what you see with your eyes, the things you can feel, clothes, food, perfume, music that you listen to are all sources of inspiration. i create private accounts to follow fashion brands. 16. having debuted at the age of 16, you are still young but your work experience has been long. i was in certain situations because of this. it doesn’t happen as often now but even in my early 20s, i completely belonged to the senior category at broadcasting stations. they are my juniors but many of them are also hyungs, i’m their senior but i’m also the youngest. now there are even staff members who are younger than me. they’re too formal with me (laughs). 17. are there juniors that ask you for advice or help? the superm members! especially ten, he is very curious. when we come out of a company meeting, he’ll get surprised and say “wow, hyung everything you said was right.” i even hear things like ‘veteran’ and ‘seer.’ apparently my predictions come true. but i try not to advise them as much. taking the initiative to say something feels overwhelming. 18. born in 1993 between millennials and gen z, do you share any characteristics with those in your age bracket? we’ve picked out a few of their traits. the first one is ‘they don’t eat fast food.’ me too! i took care of my health well ever since i started out with shinee. i was brainwashed from home to avoid foods that harmed the body. not even ramyeon, snacks were also banned. and just like that in my 20s i started carrying out the regime on my own. it’s become a habit to look after my health ever since i moved out. i always eat things that are good for my body, if the hyungs are taking vitamins, i’d ask for one too. 19. i suddenly recall a variety show where you were the only one who skipped the sauce and ate the meat on its own! one should not eat irritable foods. my mother’s words. 20. how about ‘they watch videos on youtube rather than tv. even the ads don’t particularly bother them.’ that’s right. i watch youtube more often than tv, while watching the ads i'd even marvel at their production quality. i’ve signed up for the premium package now so i don’t see the ads anymore. 21. ‘marrying or wanting to buy their own house.’ i currently live alone and i have no interest in decking out my house. at first, i didn’t think like that but a month later my interest dissipated. i’m lazy. it’s not like my house is for others to see, i’m fine with the incomplete feeling for now. 22. and finally ‘they avoid investing in financial companies.’ i don’t do that. my parents manage that, if there’s a good tip i’ll just let them know. 23. hiphop musicians tend to express their success through music. as an idol musician how have you been using the wealth you accumulated all these years? i invest in food instead of saving up (laughs). honestly, i don’t spend much. i don’t have anything i want. though i do spend on others a lot. 24. what kind of household did you grow up in? what gifts did you inherit from your family as a musician? i inherited my body type. all of my cousins have model-like physiques, they’re taller and slimmer than me. my mother sings well. my father plays instruments as a hobby. oh, and my paternal aunt used to be a ballerina. so perhaps i inherited such genes? 25. you’ve been doing the same thing for more than 10 years. what is the purpose behind creating music and showcasing it? in the past, i would think i should do well, i need to be number one, these days i’ve become ambitious for other aspects. i take pride in the fact that my work supplies others with positive energy. i feel a sense of accomplishment when fans like my music, i want to make them as happy as i am. everyone’s profession is different but i hope this synergy gained from mutual dependence leaves a good impression. 26. are you still composing songs? i used to but now i only participate in lyric writing. it differs with each song, at times the lyrics are emotional or talk about abstract love. it seems like my next solo album will include a song i wrote the lyrics to. sometimes songs composed by overseas composers might prove too difficult for the general public to understand. so i participate a lot in the arrangement or mixing phase. i point out the parts that should be added to the composition and those that are unneeded. teacher lee soo man does give advice but it often feels like i do the producing of my own solo album. 27. taemin’s originality is the clearest when he promotes as a solo artist. which song has best represented your identity? i worked hard on all of them but there was a turning point. at first there was ‘danger’ then ‘press your number’ was a conceptual performance, the transition to ‘move’ turned out well. i wanted to break out from the typical choreography routine and create my own identity, the resulting performances were ‘move’ and ‘want.’ my next solo album is again different. i’ve been making a lot of changes these days. 28. you seem to have high standards when it comes to composing music. was there ever an occasion where you absolutely refused to compromise and gave others a hard time? everyone is used to it (laughs). it’s something i learned from the head manager hyung who’s been with me since debut. the belief that ‘there is nothing that can’t be done. there is no such thing as impossible.’ another team manager hyung would tell me ‘you remind me of our head’ (laughs). honestly, the staff around me work beyond their given roles and with affection. normally work timings are from 9 to 7, they stay back till 10-11 pm for me. they don’t hold it against me, and when things do well, they too feel a sense of fulfillment together with me. 29. the new unreleased song must be quite different from the original then. there are already 12 versions of the song. when i thought we were somewhat done, we recently started arranging it again (laughs). 30. you hold your body to specific standards for the best performance outcome. i don’t ‘bulk up.’ previously, i used to work out when i ate a lot but my body would feel weighed down, it wasn’t what i wanted. if i gain a lot of muscles or become thick, it hampers my dancing form. that’s why i don’t put on weight. i train my stamina and strength and avoid bulking up my shoulders and arms. 31. by the way, do you do neck exercises as well? i was touched looking at your long neck in the vogue photoshoot. i had been noticing this too, now i know the reason! i think it’s because i dance. a lot of resistance goes into the neck when you dance. our head is the heaviest and it’s the neck that supports it. it goes away when i rest for a few days. we’re shooting amidst the superm tour maybe that’s why it looks thicker now. 32. an editor who has been watching you closely for a long time said that you’ve become extroverted. could it be that experience and relationships have made you comfortable and secure? i’ve lowered my guard. i couldn’t reveal my current self to others before. as a child i used to be so introverted that i’d hide behind my mother when strangers would get into the elevator. i changed with time. 33. is your ever-present smile a product of your personality or just business decorum? i’m always smiling. i even laugh at things other people don’t find funny (laughs). 34. shinee members are currently serving in the army. when they’re on break what kind of advice or nagging do they subject you to? i wish they would do that. we have a group chat on kakaotalk and i always revive it by asking “what’s up” “happy new year.” but as soon as the conversation picks up they only talk about the army. when i inform them about an issue at the company they say “really?” then it’s military talk again. when i feel left out and tell them to stop, they reply with “you’ll understand when you get here.” 35. in your career as a musician, when do you feel the best? when it’s time to reveal all that i’ve been preparing for so long! it feels different from finishing it. the first stage after debuting, shinee’s first concert, performing at tokyo dome, receiving the award... these are the moments that come to mind. 36. watching taemin grow for the past decade has been a huge source of strength. what are your dreams now? there are many. first of all, once shinee comes back again, i want the entire group to give off a feeling of revival. usually after getting discharged, it’s hard to keep up with the next generation, i want to avoid that. i’ve imagined it all when the shinee members return. second, i want to perform a lot on various stages as a solo artist. superm topped the billboard 200 album chart, it’d be nice to enter the top 10 on the hot 100 digital chart as well. 37. you are really talented at setting goals. i’ve gotten greedier. it’s just not for myself but i want to do it for the fans and members, even the staff. they become my driving force. i really am lucky. everybody works hard but i even get the recognition for it. come to think of it, i was given many opportunities and i worked hard to make the most of them, i’m really happy my efforts paid off in the end. i’m surrounded by good people. shinee, superm, many people fill in the gaps for me that i can’t solve on my own. 38. superm’s concert title is ‘we are the future.’ when you hear the word ‘future’ what are you reminded of? first, it’s h.o.t. (laughs). future-oriented things come to mind like artificial intelligence, drones, 3d hologram concerts. then again, in the future, though people might be able to watch concerts through holograms, i think humans will not give up on the tasks they themselves can do. my work will still be the same in the future. 39. the reason you don’t write anything on instagram. i don’t have anything to say yet (laughs). i don’t know if i should make my instagram cool or approachable. when fretting between writing a caption or using an emoticon, i just end up leaving it blank. actually i signed up after my manager hyung suggested that instagram would be good. so i’ve made one but i still don’t know what to upload. i get teased by the people around me for putting up selfies. i even took lots of pictures especially for instagram but... 40. did you not post the pictures? the point of instagram is real-time communication. is that so! i didn’t know (laughs).

translated by romanceboys — take out with full credit (source)

#shinee #taemin #p:taemin #vogue korea april issue 2020 #interview #translations #e:superm #enjoy!

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monellabella · 4 years

Text

The Starving Games ft. Freddie Weasel: AKA Pt. 1 of my Hunger Games x Harry Potter crossover series (OC x Fred Weasley)

Warnings (None of these are really graphic, but feel free not to read if any of these things make you uncomfortable!!): Blood, knives, knife wound, character death(s), severe injury mention (lost limbs), dead animal mention?? (a rat)

This is the first fic I’ve ever written! I got the idea from a post I saw from @wand3ringr0s3 Comments and criticism are GREATLY appreciated and it’d be really cool to get some feedback on my writing style!!

a/n: Also if I do write more, this is gonna be an enemies to allies to lovers situation bc I <3 angst

Tagging my mutuals: @ourloveisforthelovely @darthwheezely @amrtxntia @anchoeritic @kellsslut @whizboingies @beiahadid

Darkness. Pure black. I hear noises coming from somewhere. Muffled. Echoing through the endless void around me. The noises become louder. Someone is talking. The more I listen, the louder and clearer they get. Clear enough that I can almost make out the words. Suddenly, everything goes deafeningly quiet. My ears start ringing. But then, a single voice echoes through the silence, “Seph?”. I recognize it immediately. “Maeve?” I call out. “Seph? Is that you?” she responds, her voice shaky with fear. “Yes, yes, Maeve, it’s me. Where are you?”

“I don’t know.” she responds, panic rising in her voice. “Seph, I’m scared.”

“I know. I know, kiddo,” I swallow hard, “Hey. Hey, listen, I’m gonna find you, okay? Just stay calm.”

My heart is racing. I look around for some sort of clue, but nothing but complete darkness surrounds me. I tentatively reach my hand out in front of me. My fingertips graze something. Something cold. I take a step forward and reach out again. My hand finds what feels like a thin chain. I roll it around in my fingers before pulling down on it. The space is immediately flooded with blinding white light. I blink a few times to adjust my eyes to the sudden brightness. I’m at home; a tiny one room flat that I share with my mother, sister, and our cat. Except it’s empty- no furniture, not even a door. I see my sister standing a few feet in front of me, her hands bound together by a thick rope. “Maeve!” I rush towards her. “Seph!” she cries. As I reach out to hug her I’m pushed back by an invisible force. I look up and there she is- standing inside a giant glass dome. I take a few steps back, trying to register what I’m seeing.

“Shall we draw the names?” I whip my head around to see a woman in a magenta frock standing on the other side of the room. Her dress is covered in so many frills and flounces that she takes up half the flat. On her head is a ridiculous blonde wig that must add at least two feet to her height. Her face is covered entirely in white powder, with her cheeks overly rouged, and her top lip painted magenta to match the dress. She looks like a very posh clown.

“I-I’m sorry what?”

She laughs airily, “The names, darling. Surely you remembered?”

“Remember what?”

She tsked then pulled out two smaller versions of the glass dome from the frills at the front of her dress. They each had a small slip of paper in them. “Go on. Pick one.” Her voice was incredibly high-pitched, and she spoke with a capitol accent. I stepped towards her and hesitantly reached into the bowl in her right hand. I unfolded the slip of paper, ‘Maeve Whitlock’. I stared at the name in confusion.

“I don’t understand.”

“Will you take her fate as your own?”

“What do you mean? What fate?”

The woman let out another laugh, this one high and cold, it echoed around the entire room and caused the floor to shake. Suddenly, I heard Maeve call out to me, “SEPH!” I looked back to where she was in the dome. There was a dark, shadowy figure standing behind her, holding a knife to her neck. Her hands and feet were bound to a small wooden chair, and her mouth was now gagged with a dishcloth. I ran towards the dome, panic rising further in my chest. “MAEVE!” I shouted desperately. She looked at me fearfully, tears rolling slowly down her cheeks. I banged and kicked and rammed my body at the glass so hard, I should’ve shattered something. But it was no use. I looked back to where the woman had been standing, but she was gone. The shadowy figure stood still, holding the knife to my sister’s neck.

“LET GO OF HER YOU FREAK!” I cried, banging my fists against the dome. Maeve was panicking now, her chest rising and falling rapidly, tears running down her face, her muffled pleas penetrating through the glass. “MAEVE.” I cried out; my voice cracked as the salty tears streamed down my cheeks. But I was too late. The dark figure suddenly slashed the knife across her throat, her cries stopped and she slumped down into her seat, eyes still half open, blood now seeping into her blouse. “NO!” I screamed, sinking down to the ground. The glass squeaked as my hands dragged down over the exterior. I looked back up towards the shadowy figure, only to see it was no longer there. In its place I saw myself, a satisfied smile on my face. I heard the clownish woman’s disembodied laugh echo through the flat, “What a pity,” the voice said, “you could’ve saved her! But now, I’m afraid, you must face the consequences of your actions.” The clone slowly raised the hand still holding the knife, and pointed directly at me. Suddenly, I felt the cool touch of metal against my throat. The other me winked, and I felt the blade drag deep across my neck. I started to choke, the blood pooling into my airways. I instinctively brought my hand up to the wound. My vision started turning black around the edges. I looked down to see the front of my dress already soaked in red. The last thing I saw was my own hand, holding the knife, droplets of blood falling steadily from the tip of the blade. Then, everything went dark.

My eyes shot open. All I saw was fur, and something was blocking my breathing. I sat up quickly, and the ball of fluff leapt off my face. The cat looked up at me from his new place on my lap- those big amber eyes practically staring into my soul- and meowed loudly. I sighed in annoyance. “Stupid cat.” I grumbled as I lifted him up and let him jump to the floor. I rubbed my eyes and tried to slow my racing heartbeat. My body was covered in a sheen of cold sweat. I looked down at the bed to see my sister still sleeping soundly beside me. I took a deep, shaky breath and stroked the top of her head, moving away some of the stray hairs lying across her face. I glanced over at the digital clock next to me, SUNDAY: JULY 4. 8:26 AM. Today was Reaping Day; no wonder I had that horrible nightmare. This would be my 4th year participating in the drawing, it was Maeve’s first. How unlucky it was that her twelfth birthday had only been three days prior. If she’d just been born a few days later, she could’ve been spared for another year.

I sighed and swung my legs over the side of the bed. My mother was already awake, sewing some buttons back onto Maeve’s school shirt. “Hi, mom.”

“Hi, sweetie. Did you just wake up?”

“Yeah, just now.” I yawned.

“Is Maeve still asleep?”

“Yeah.”

“What time is it?”

“Almost 8:30. Should I wake her up?”

“No, it’s okay,” she sighed, “let her sleep some more. I’ll wake her up soon.” She held up the shirt to examine her work, “Still needs a few more stitches…” She held the needle between her teeth and reached down to her sewing basket to grab another spool of thread. I looked down as I felt the cat’s bushy tail brush past my ankles. I knelt down and scratched behind his ears.

“Did you feed Tulip yet?” I asked. The fluffy, tricolor, flat-faced cat was now sitting at my feet, purring contentedly.

“Didn’t have to; he caught his own breakfast. A huge rat, which he so lovingly dropped on my pillow this morning.” My mother replied.

I stifled a laugh.

“Since you’re already up, go ahead and shower. I’ve laid out your clothes for you on the kitchen table, so when you’re done, just change into them and come back here so I can do your hair. Okay?”

“Okay.”

She smiled at me then went back to her work. I grabbed some soap and a clean towel from the small shelf near the entrance and walked out. “Make sure you don’t use up all the hot water!” she called out as I closed the door behind me. “Don’t worry, I won’t!”.

We didn’t have our own bathroom- there was one toilet and one shower per floor, which could be shared by anywhere from 5 to 20 people. There were 5 apartments on each of the 4 floors- all one room- with one bed, a stove, a sink, a small table and chairs, and some shelves for storage. Each apartment had a heater and air conditioner, but they were never guaranteed to work when you needed them. Sometimes only one side of the building would have heating, or only certain floors had AC, or only specific apartments. Often, the whole building wouldn’t have either for days at a time. The same thing happened with the water and electricity. You could never fully rely on any of the appliances being in working order. As a result, we shared a lot with other apartments. If someone’s stove wasn’t working, they could just knock on a neighbor’s door and use theirs. If only one apartment on our floor had heating during the winter, there were no objections when everyone else would come over and make themselves at home. It made it feel like we were all one family, and it was customary to refer to many of your neighbors as your aunt or uncle. This was common throughout the District, as almost everyone aside from the mayor and peacekeepers lived in small, rundown tenements, expanding outwards from the city center, which was home to the Justice building. Here, in District 8, we produce textiles. There are 6 factories in total; one of which is entirely dedicated to making peacekeeper uniforms. We typically start in the factories at 14, splitting the day between school and work. We aren’t assigned specific jobs until we turn 18. Until then, those in charge of production make requests for certain numbers of workers, and we go wherever we’re needed. Once we finish school, we’re assigned permanent job positions based on both our aptitude tests and our performances in various factory tasks. The better you do on the aptitude test, the better (or at least safer) your job will be. Those with the highest scores tend to be assigned as desk jockeys- where the risk of dying on the job is fairly low. Those with the lowest scores are sent to work in the most dangerous parts of the factories; you can always tell who works there because chances are, they’ve lost some part of their limbs...or face...or they’re, you know, missing a hand...Then there’s those whose scores fall somewhere in the middle; if they have a specific skill, like baking, or perhaps healing, they’re assigned a job based on that. The rest are assigned mid-level factory jobs, which were still dangerous, but the chances of getting to keep all your fingers were significantly higher! (But not guaranteed).

When I turned on the shower, I was pleasantly surprised to find that the water was delightfully warm. It took everything in me not to keep standing there, enjoying the warmth, until the water would turn cold. I shivered as I stepped out of the shower and quickly wrapped my towel around me. I walked swiftly down the hall and flung open the door to the apartment. I grabbed my outfit from the kitchen table. A white trapeze-line dress ending an inch or so above my knees, long billowy sleeves pulled tight at the wrists, and a mock turtleneck with tiny ruffles adorning the edge. My shoes sat on the floor next to it; dark blue suede ankle-boots with small square heels.They were a birthday present from my mother; most definitely from the black market. I got dressed and pulled up a stool in front of my mother’s chair. She combed through my curls as gently as she could, but I still winced when she pulled too hard at a knot. She braided four small plaits at the front and sides of my hair, pulling them into two larger braids that she twisted together and pinned to the back of my head. She handed me the mirror. I looked into it and smiled, “It’s beautiful. Thank you.” I turned around and hugged her tightly. She smelled of soap and clean linen, and something else I couldn’t quite put my finger on- all I knew was that it was comforting and warm. I held on a little longer than usual. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, inhaling her scent. She brought her hand up and gently stroked the back of my head. We both knew what could happen today...I tried my best not to think about it. Maeve soon came back from the shower and changed into a mod-style purple dress and black mary janes. My mother braided her hair in a similar style to mine, adding a small flower clip at the side. She looked us once over, nodded, then stood at the mirror and added a few pins to secure her own hairstyle. She sighed, “Ready?”

“Yeah.” “Yeah.” my sister and I said in unison.

My mother chuckled lightly as we stepped through the threshold.

We walked the few blocks over to the underground and boarded the train headed to the Justice building. The train car was packed. Everyone was dressed in their best (and most colorful) outfit. These types of clothes were only worn on special occasions; those above working age wore grey coveralls to work and school, and something drab and ill-fitting otherwise. As we exited the train car, I kept a tight grip on Maeve’s hand. As we emerged from the underground, our eyes were bombarded with light, and I squinted as the brightness flooded my vision. When my eyes adjusted, I spotted the registration table. I gave my mother a brief hug and went to join the girls’ line with Maeve. Soon, we’d reached the front. I looked down at Maeve, “You want me to go first, kiddo?”

She glanced up at me with wide eyes, then stared forward and shook her head.

“You sure?”

“Mhmm. I just wanna get it over with.”

“Okay.” I hunched over and whispered into her ear, “You’re gonna be fine, I promise. It’s not as bad as you think. I’ll see you in a few minutes, yeah?”

She nodded. I gave her hand a squeeze and watched her walk up to the table. I heard them speaking faintly and a few minutes later, she turned around to look at me, a nervous expression on her face. I gave her a reassuring nod then headed over there myself.

The woman at the table sat there with a bored expression. She looked to be in her 30’s, but the heavy dark circles under her eyes seemed to age her quite a few years.

“Last name?” She said. She didn’t bother to look up at me.

“Whitlock.”

“Whitlock…” she muttered, flipping through the pages, “Right, Whitlock. Persephone?”

“Yeah.”

She crossed my name off the list. “You’re sixteen?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” she sighed, “Hold out your hand, please.” She took a small device next to her and clipped it onto my index finger. I winced when I felt the needle prick my skin. She unclipped the device then stamped my wrist with the capitol’s sigil.

“You can go join your age group, fourth line from the left.”

“Thanks,” I muttered.

She paused, then looked up at me sympathetically, “And um, good luck.”

I nodded and gave her a curt smile before heading over to join my peers. We were arranged by age and gender, boys and girls separate, all standing in rows in front of the stage. I stood waiting, and mindlessly watched the rows slowly multiply. I didn’t know how much time had passed, but soon enough, I looked up at the stage to see a woman in a bright magenta pantsuit. The hem of her skirt was decorated with a flounce of fabric, and she wore a light pink blouse underneath her suit jacket. The front of it contained so many ruffles, you could hardly see her neck. Her hair was pale blonde, and styled in a way that made it look like a cloud sitting on top of her head. Her face was powdered white, save for her blushed cheeks and glossy lipstick. Her lips were absurdly over lined, both painted a shocking fuchsia that closely matched her outfit. She approached the podium with tiny steps and cleared her throat daintily, “Welcome, everyone, to the reaping ceremony for the 59th annual Hunger Games!” People remained silent; the only reaction being a cough from someone in the crowd. She cleared her throat once more, “As always, we shall begin by watching a special film from the capitol, telling us the history and origins of this unique tradition, and to remind us why we are all standing here today.”

At her words, the two televisions turned on to display the Capitol’s sigil. It faded out, and a film about the glorious history of Panem started rolling. I tuned out and stared blankly at the rows of people ahead of me. When the film concluded, Ms. magenta up at the podium clapped enthusiastically. She was the only one. “Oh, wasn’t that wonderful?” She exclaimed, “What a rich history this nation has.”

I scoffed, that’s one way to put it, I thought.

“Now, as always- ladies first.” She stuck her hand into the large glass bowl on the right side of the podium and shuffled her hand through the slips of paper before snatching one up. She gingerly unfolded the paper and held it delicately between her index finger and thumb.

She cleared her throat and read out the name, “Maeve Whitlock.”

I felt my heart stop in my chest.

No.

My eyes darted through the crowd and I saw people make way for her as she slowly walked to the stage, shaking with every step. Images from my dream flashed through my mind- most poignantly, the image of me watching helplessly, as a dark shadowy figure slashed a knife across my sister’s throat. Panic rose in my chest; my heart beat so loudly in my ears that I barely heard myself shout, “WAIT!” Everyone turned to look at me. My breathing sped up as I suddenly felt at a loss for air, “I volunteer.” I added, my voice cracking slightly, “I volunteer as tribute.” Maeve looked back at me with pleading eyes and shook her head furiously. I avoided her gaze and stared straight ahead as the crowd parted to allow me through to the stage. I paused to grab Maeve’s hand and squeeze it tightly. I cradled the back of her head and planted a kiss atop her forehead. I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment as I shakily released her from my grasp and allowed the other girls in the crowd to place a comforting hand on her shoulders as they quietly pulled her away from me. I walked up to the stage and slowly climbed the short flight of steps to then take my place just behind the glass bowl from which my sister’s name was drawn. I can’t believe I’m about to be shepherded to my untimely death because of a stupid glass bowl. I felt my hands getting clammy, and I held to the hem of my dress to keep them from shaking. Ms. Magenta smiled and stepped towards me, “And what is your name, dear?”

“Persephone Whitlock.” I stated.

“And you are…?”

“Her sister.”

“Her sister! Oh, well, of course you are!” she remarked, “Well, that was a very brave thing you just did, Persephone. I’m sure I speak for everyone when I say that this was a truly inspiring moment! Well done! And may the odds be ever in your favor.” she smiled brightly and turned towards the crowd. There were a few measly claps, but they quickly fell silent. “And now, let us draw our male tribute.” She stepped over to the glass bowl on her left and repeated the process. I stared blankly past the rows of people; only when she read the name was my trance broken, “Frederick Weasley.” A tall, redheaded boy emerged from the crowd. I stared as he made his way up to the podium. I recognized him from school. I didn’t know him well, but I knew he had a twin brother- George, I think- who’d lost an ear in a factory accident a few years prior, and was thus ineligible to compete in the Games, as his injury would be an unfair advantage to the other tributes. Apparently, he’d been checking the cogs underneath a broken machine when it somehow turned on and cut his left ear clean off. It was formally reported as an accident, but it’s been rumored that he did it on purpose. There were no witnesses, so no one can say for sure, but if it was intentional, I can’t say I blame him for doing it. There are very few ways you can get out of the games if you’re under 18- something as extreme as losing an ear would certainly fall under that category. I stared at the redhead as he took his place behind the other glass bowl. He was tall, at least 6 foot 4, and seemed to tower over my own 5 foot 10 frame. I’d always thought I was fairly tall for my age, and was used to surpassing most adults in height; but standing next to him, I felt like a child. His entire body was long and lean, but I could tell from the way his shirt clung to him that he was not just skin and bone. He had a well-structured face. Round brown eyes, thin lips, a prominent, romanesque nose; his jaw was clenched as he stared straight ahead and refused to look at me. Him and his brother were known for pulling pranks and cracking jokes at school- there was a strange, impish quality to his features that unintentionally revealed his penchant for mischief. Every inch of his cool, pale skin was covered in freckles. Despite his pallid complexion, his cheeks always seemed to have a slight blush to them that made everything about him appear bright and lively. However, at the present moment, his face had been drained of all colour, save for a rather sickly green tinge. No wonder he doesn’t want to look at me- poor kid looks like he’s about to puke. Ms. Magenta finally stepped forward, “Excellent! We now have our two lovely tributes! Both of whom will now be escorted into the Justice building to await further instructions; Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor!” And with that, the Capitol’s sigil was once again displayed on the TVs, and its anthem blasted through the speakers. Suddenly, I felt four hands grab me by the arms and forcefully pull me backwards. I stumbled slightly, and looked up to see the two peacekeepers responsible. They continued to pull me across the stage before practically shoving me down the stairs and onto the cobblestone street. From the corner of my eye, I could see that my fellow tribute was receiving the same gentle treatment as they dragged- I’m sorry, escorted him- to the large, looming structure behind us. As they “escorted” me towards the building’s heavy brass doors, I looked back frantically, trying to spot my mother and sister. But the crowd had gotten rowdier, and they were all being jammed together as the peacekeepers continued to push them away from the stage. My breathing quickened, and I could feel the blood pumping through every vein in my body. When we reached the threshold, the brass doors opened to reveal a high-ceilinged marble hall, and a rush of cool air escaped them. So THIS is where all our air-conditioning goes, I thought to myself. Every sound echoed through the building’s marble interior. I craned my neck upwards and tried to take in every opulent detail as I was dragged down a hallway and shoved into a small room, where the peacekeepers finally released me from their vice grip. “Wait here,” one of them said. They both left and shut the door behind them. I massaged my sore upper arms. “You didn’t have to pull me so hard, you know!” I shouted at the door, “not like I was planning on going anywhere!”. I sighed and stepped back from the door. “Assholes,” I muttered to myself. I plopped down onto a green velvet armchair and examined my surroundings. The walls and ceilings were paneled in rich, mahogany wood. The square panels above me were covered in intricate carvings, complementing the elaborate crystal chandelier hanging in the center. While I assumed the floor was wood, it was hard to tell because of the heavy oriental rugs that adorned its surface. There were two large windows behind me, both framed by plush velvet curtains. They were the same emerald green as the chair, and were tied back with a thick, gold rope that had tassels on the end of it, so as to allow in natural light. There was not much furniture in the room aside from two armchairs- one of which I already occupied- a round, wooden coffee table between them, and two empty bookshelves inlaid in the wall on either side of the room. A thin blue vase containing a single white rose sat in the center of the coffee table. The smell of it was unnaturally overpowering. Something about it made me uneasy, so I carefully pushed it to the far side of the table and shifted away from it. I unconsciously started chewing on my lip. I couldn’t sit still. Sitting there shaking my leg, or playing with the hem of my dress, wasn’t helping. I let out a frustrated groan and jolted up from my seat. I continued to chew my lip as I restlessly paced back and forth across the room. The heavy rugs didn’t hide the creaking of the floorboards as I stomped across them. After what felt like hours, I heard the door creak open. I stopped in my tracks and ran to the door to greet my mother before she’d even entered the room. Her and my sister enveloped me in a bone-crushing hug which I eagerly returned. The peacekeeper standing behind them cleared his throat. We slowly let go of each other and turned to face him. “You have ten minutes to say goodbye- not a second more.” he said in a gruff voice. As my mother and sister stepped fully into the room, the peacekeeper roughly shut the door behind them and left.

END OF PART ONE

a/n: If you’ve made it this far, 1. Hi, I love you 2. Will I write more for this series? To quote John Mulaney, “Who’s to say?”.

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