#I would very much appreciate it since neither I nor said friend can test it

[tearlessrain]

okay so Shadowmere's eye glow (as in the additional eyeglow mesh in her model, not the emission) isn't showing up in my game. it's also not showing up in my friend's completely vanilla game. it used to, I have screenshots from a dark brotherhood playthrough I did years ago, and at some point it stopped. but I can't find a single hint of anyone else having this problem on the entire internet which is wild considering it's skyrim.

so uh. has anyone else experienced this issue and does anyone know what causes it. because I'm completely at a loss here.

[1dont-really-know]

Childhood crush Lilva fic that idk what to title

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The moon is high in the sky, shining brightly and illuminating all that stand under it. The air is filled with the meaningless chatter of trainees, all of them taking what little break is allowed to catch up with their friends, distracting themselves from the grueling training that is due to continue in less than fifteen minutes’s time. Baul, who is currently sitting next to Lilia, is munching down on his food, unaware of the latter fae’s annoyance.

Malva should be here by now.

The little sister of his dear friend and an aspiring healer; one who never seemed to pay attention to anything unless it interested her. Ever since she found out that Lilia was training to be a guard, she had been visiting the training grounds each and every day, trailing after him and checking him for injuries, fanning the flames of both the rumours and Maleanor’s teasing. When she finds any scrape or bruise on him, she always insists on healing him, “practice,” she said, “so that I can have a head start.”

Lilia doesn't appreciate being a test subject. He thinks that much is obvious. It's demeaning and embarrassing, not to mention that the slightest mistake could spell disaster for him. He'd very much rather his “injuries” (if they could even be considered that) be treated by a real healer, one who actually knows what they're doing and not a ninety-year-old who's prone to using too much magic on any given wound and who then always proceeds to scold him for getting hurt. That's not even mentioning how the other trainees have been speaking of this, saying that the younger of the two princesses has feelings for him, or that he has feelings for her. It's ridiculous. And no, it's not because he's still sulking over his proposal to Maleanor being rejected.

Even so, Lilia admits that Malva did warn him about Raverne’s plans of proposing as well, so he still listens to her scolding. He tries not to get hurt as much, if only so that Malva wouldn't glare at him for getting hurt again. He doesn't see why she would, in the first place. The more injuries he gets, the more practice Malva gets, but Lilia doesn't want to see that expression on her face, so he obliges. He can see how much effort she's putting into improving, anyways.

Still, the point stands that Malva, for some reason, has yet to arrive. On most days, she visits when the break is about to start, watching them train for a little before going to Lilia. On the rare chance that she's late, it's never later than when the trainees are excused to go eat their food. With only ten minutes left before training starts again, neither scale nor tail of the younger princess has been seen.

“Lilia?”

Red eyes flick towards the crocodile fae beside him. Lilia grunts in acknowledgement, “what is it, Baul?” he asks. Eight minutes to go. Where is she?

Baul raises an eyebrow, perhaps at his tone, “you seem upset. Why?”

“I don’t know what you're talking about.”

Seven.

“You're making a face. And you've barely been eating your food.”

“I simply don't have that much of an appetite today,” he sighs, “really, Baul. It's nothing.”

“Is it because Lady Malva has not come here?”

What? Lilia furrows his brows, a frown forming on his face. Him? Upset because Malva isn't here? “Of course not.”

Really, why should he be? He doesn't have to stay still while a child whines about treating the injuries she, herself, volunteered to heal. It just feels a little odd, that's all. Lilia supposes he just got used to her presence, after a while. Maybe she got bored of coming every day? Or maybe she got another test subject to practice her healing on.

“The look on your face is getting worse.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Maleanor hums happily as she brushes though her little sister’s hair. Various accessories are spread out around them, ranging from bows to hairclips, silver necklaces to golden earrings, many of which were glittering with many colours of gemstones and jewels. Malva sits still, not lifting a single finger to oppose her sister’s whims. The feeling of the brush against her scalp is nice.

Truthfully, Malva doesn’t know why Maleanor decided to style her all of a sudden. She had just been reading through a few books when the older of the two barged into the library and dragged her off to be used as a dress up doll. This outfit, a long dark grey dress adorned with bows, accessorized with a fragile sapphire necklace, is merely the latest in a long line of Maleanor’s attempts. Upon Malva’s comment on how she thought it was pretty, Maleanor decided that this was the winning outfit, and is now moving on to deciding how to best style her hair.

Malva watches curiously as her sister holds an emerald horn ornament in front of her, the reflection on the mirror displaying as she weighs something in her mind, before shaking her head and deciding against it. “Does not fit the necklace,” Maleanor huffs, picking up another accessory (a silver leaf-shaped hairclip. A generic leaf, not one Malva can pinpoint to any specific plant) and repeating the process all over again.

Finally, after a few more attempts, Malva speaks up, in an attempt to distract Maleanor from the latter’s growing frustration. “Maybe we can get something that’s similar to your crown?” she asks, hopefully. The crown and throne aren’t things that will ever be Malva’s, but even she can’t deny that both of those things are very pretty.

“It would not fit you, sister,” Maleanor says, tying a ribbon into and around the younger princess’s hair and horn, “you are more cute than you are elegant, at least for now. You need pretty things to accentuate that.”

Another accessory is thrown into the rejected pile.

“But you’re elegant. Mother is as well.”

“You’re still a hatchling, Moonlight. All hatchlings are cute. You, less so, but you still fit into the cute category better than you do the elegant category.”

Malva pouts, the tip of her tail twitching, “I can fit into the elegant category just fine,” and really, she can be more elegant than Maleanor can, “give me some of your clothes to wear and I’ll prove it.”

“No.”

“Why are you even trying to dress me up anyway? Mother already does that when there’s upcoming balls and events,” She doesn’t mention how much more comfortable the clothes Maleanor chose are. The fabrics are softer and she doesn’t have to wear those annoying corsets.

Maleanor pauses, just long enough for Malva to feel an ominous sense of dread creeping up her spine. Slowly, ever so slowly, a horrifying smirk pulls at her older sister’s lips, a dangerous glint shining in her eyes that makes Malva want to flee.

“Oh my, sister, did you really think I wouldn’t notice your little escapades to go meet your beloved?”

What? Malva doesn’t have a beloved. Sure, she sneaks out every once in a while to convene with Altair, but Altair isn’t her beloved, and Maleanor knew that.

Upon seeing Malva’s confused look, Maleanor’s grin only widens, “don’t play coy, now. It’s been all the talk lately. I must say, it’s not a method of courting I thought of before, but from his reactions, it does prove to be effective.”

What in the world was she talking about?

“Ah, I knew he had feelings for you the moment he noticed the book you brought, all those years ago. He could deny it all he wanted, but as your big sister, I see things that neither you nor he saw.”

“Who are you talking about?” Malva blurts, no longer being able to keep her confusion to herself. Malva did not bring anyone flowers nor offered anyone anything from her hoard. She had not been courting anyone, and she had not even thought that much of courting or marriage until now. She has no idea what her sister is speaking of.

But of course, instead of answering her, Maleanor instead sighs dreamily, cupping her cheek in one hand, “you aren’t even aware of your feelings yet, but the heart commands the body more than the brain does. You two are practically made for each other. Meeting every day and-”

Another pause. The smile on Maleanor’s face fading into a small frown.

“Stars, how long have we been here?” The older fae rises from the chair she was sitting on, walking over towards the window and taking a look at the position of the moon outside. The expression on her face shifts again, into one of surprise, then alarm. Before Malva could react, Maleanor is in front of her again, her hands on her shoulders and ushering the younger fae to stand up and pushing her towards the door.

“What is it now?” Malva was not aware that there was a time limit to this, but at this point, she’s too exasperated to push back. It’s Maleanor, anyway, so there was no way for Malva to be able to out-stubborn her.

“They will already be training again by now, so we’ll have to teleport there, but even then we’ll be interrupting their training- No matter. We are their princesses, they will have to just pause for us.”

Training, huh. So whoever it is that Maleanor thinks Malva is courting, he’s someone in training, either to become a soldier or something else that’s just as strict. Someone that is, presumably, close to both of them, for Maleanor to be this gleeful.

Lilia, then. He’s the only person that isn’t Raverne that both of them are close to and is a trainee.

“‘Leanor,” Malva calls her sister’s name, warily, knowing full well it’s unlikely that Maleanor will even listen to her, “I’m not in love with Lilia.”

Just as she thought, the glint in Maleanor’s eyes return, and Malva can only resign herself to her fate. “I never said who it was you were courting, Moonlight.”

Damned if you do, damned if you don’t.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

In the end, Malva somehow convinced Maleanor to wait until Lilia’s training is done for the day before going to him.

While they waited, Maleanor took it upon herself to tell Malva all about the type of relationship she and Lilia apparently have, the kinds of dates she thinks will be good for them, and how long it would take for them to get married, nevermind that Malva has not even reached the milestone that is her one hundredth birthday.

Honestly, Malva would not mind ending up with Lilia, if only her sister would stop this buffoonery of trying to force her to get together with him. Maleanor, however, does not seem like she cared, rearranging the moonflower that she had decided was the best for Malva to wear as a hair accessory.

Malva stares up at the stars above her, wishing for some way to get Maleanor to stop talking. Her wish was granted quickly, but only because Lilia had noticed she was there and was now making his way towards her, which, in turn, Maleanor takes as a signal for her to disappear into a cluster of fireflies. She’s still nearby; likely behind a bush or tree, watching their every move.

Of course Malva would be left here to talk to him all alone. She did not know what else she expected. Yes, of course, just leave the younger, littler one to deal with the person you rejected (rather harshly, might she add), Maleanor.

Her tail swishing agitatedly behind her, Malva turns to face the bat fae, trying her best to put on as neutral of an expression as she possibly could. It wasn’t his fault that Maleanor is oddly insistent on this, so it would do her no good to take it out on him.

Lilia, however, does not seem to be having the same idea, his face having the most sour expression Malva has ever seen in her life. Great. What in the world is he even upset about.

You know what? it doesn’t matter. He has bruises on his face, and healing those are more important, and she’s sure those are not the only injuries he got today.

Malva all but marches up towards him, grabbing his face with both her hands, and glaring at the bruises blotching his skin. He must have been hit hard, with how blue the bruises are, “Can’t you stay safe for one day? How did your injuries get so much worse than usual?” she hisses at him, concerned, trying to chase away the voice of Maleanor in the back of her mind who’s saying that the redness of his cheeks are, in fact, not bruises.

She also tries to pretend she did not hear an ecstatic squeal from somewhere behind her.

“I just had a bad day,” Lilia mumbles, his hands encircling her wrists and pulling her hands away from his face. “I’m in training to become a soldier, Malva, these things happen.”

That answer does not calm her down. Malva scowls, and as a boom of thunder is heard in the distance, she wrestles her hands from his grip, returning them to their previous spot on his cheeks. She keeps her hold gentle, but forceful, not wanting to add another bruise and make things worse.

She does not hear the high-pitched, babyish ”aaaawwweeee!” behind her. She does not. She does not even want to think about it.

Right, bruises are caused by the little blood vessels under the skin leaking blood from an impact. Imagine the blood returning into their rightful place, the vessels returning to normal, focus on every little drop, and then send a pulse of magic to the injury… there we go. The bluish color is already fading a little.

“You need to be more careful,” Malva does not yet know how to cast a diagnostics spell, so she settles on circling him, scanning him for any other scratches. None that’s too apparent. She’s going to need him to voluntarily show the other injuries that he wants healed to her, “it’s not good for you to keep getting hurt, you know that, right?” if he keeps this up, then it might be extra dangerous for him to actually become a soldier. She couldn’t imagine how injured he could get there. He’s a good friend to Maleanor, so Malva wouldn’t want him to get hurt.

Lilia rolls his eyes, taking a step away from her, but still rolling up his sleeve and presenting a shallow scrape there, looking like he got it from falling, somehow. Did someone defeat him in sparring? That’s new. She hasn’t seen anyone do that yet. “And yet still, you care more about dressing up instead of visiting during break like you usually do.”

“Maleanor told me to. Or, rather, she dressed me up like this for a reason I do not think is very important right now.”

“Be as it may,” Lilia waves it off with his free hand as she heals his injured arm. Malva is relieved to see that it’s not that deep, and can be very easily mended, “it would be good if you’d notify me, so that I know when I would need to keep an eye on you since you’re out of the castle.”

Why would that even be important either? Ah, but well, she supposes that since he’s training to be a soldier, he’d be in charge of her safety. That makes enough sense. “Alright,” Malva relents, releasing his hands once the scrape is fully healed. “If that would make you feel better.”

Lilia nods, looking away from her, the healing spell heating up the part of his cheeks that she healed and bringing a pink tint to them, “glad to see we agree on that.”

Malva smiles at him. He's a pleasant enough person to be around. She hopes she can befriend him properly, one day. Lilia is Maleanor’s friend for a reason, she knows that. His personality matches better with hers than it does with Malva’s, but Malva is curious about him, and she sees that he genuinely cares about her sister, and to a lesser extent, her, so getting closer to him wouldn’t hurt-

“HAH!”

“Stars, Maleanor, calm down,”

“To hell with being calm, I’m already planning the wedding for both of you!”

Malva winces, scooting away from Lilia, not wanting anyone to associate her with the jeering Maleanor is subjecting a very red-faced and embarrassed bat fae to. Raverne, who Malva doesn’t know how long he has been watching them for, gives her an apologetic smile, but does not do anything, just watching his fianceé borderline bullying their mutual friend over his perceived crush on the younger princess.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Tags : @kitwasnothere @thehollowwriter @kdjmybeloved

[chilumi-shipper]

Ready to Let Go

Xiao x Adeptus!Fem!Reader (x Zhongli)

Summary: Zhongli loves you, Xiao loves you, You love Xiao. Seems as though, in the eyes of everybody else, Zhongli was gonna be a problem within your relationship with your fellow adeptus. He would never do that though, not to you, not to Xiao. For the first time, the vigilant yaksha seems happy, and you seem more carefree the moment you two are starting to get close to one another. Zhongli would never trade your happiness for the sake of his own, and that's why, he's ready to let go.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

The God of War, flaunting over one of his very own dearest adeptus, if Guizhong saw him right now, she would've laughed at how much he jumped and flaunted over you whenever you were in his presence.

But love is complicated, he could say he loves you with a burning passion, yet it can never change the fact that you had fell for another, no matter how much Zhongli might push through, you will choose to be embraced within the arms of your true beloved, Xiao.

Neither you nor him ever said anything to confirm the nature of your relationship, but Zhongli felt it, the connection between you and the adeptus was so much more than just two people who used to work along side each other. You and Xiao, he's known both of you for millennias, you're not really the greatest with expressing emotions.

Zhongli was never one to fight reality, in fact he accepted it with open arms, having no care for the pain it might bring.

But just this once, he let's himself drift to a false hope, perhaps you only see Xiao as a friend, that in actuality you tell him the feelings that you're too scared to say to your Archon. But every time Zhongli dreamt like that, he can't help but see Xiao, sadness clouding over him, it slaps the brown-haired man in the face.

He can't do that to Xiao. The poor boy, tormented his entire life, but today, he may very well be bearing a smile on his face, with you around him, with you loving him.

He was sitting between you two, in a table in Wangshu Inn's restaurant area, the light atmosphere was calming.

It was supposed to be a nice get together, yet Zhongli felt irritated. The way your gaze lingers past him and onto the person of your interest as you spoke about how you tried cooking mortal food recently. How you seem to take into account every expression and response Xiao would give, but pay no mind to Zhongli at all.

You weren't being rude and ignoring him the whole time, in fact, you make eye contact with him from time to time, to see if he's understanding you. But Zhongli felt peeved, why couldn't you look at him the way you looked at Xiao?

"I really like cooking actually!" You exclaimed, the cat-eyed adeptus smiling softly while listening to your rambles, his elbow resting on the table, while his chin leans on his hand. That makes Zhongli feel even worse for having such feelings for you, just looking at the small but genuine smile on Xiao's face as he admires you.

"Xiao?" You softly called out to him, clasping your hands together. The adeptus gave a hum in response. "There's this recipe I found called "Tofu Cookies with Almonds", I was hoping you could help me taste test them when I try baking for the first time?" Your voice gets quieter the more you say. Zhongli found it adorable when you get shy, yet he can't help but feel a nauseous felling eating away at his skin, you didn't invite him.

The waitress puts the food you all ordered on your table before Xiao answers. Zhongli looked into your eyes, seeing the nervousness as you anxiously wait for an answer.

"Okay."

Golden orbs then looked at Xiao, seeing he's looking away from you, his ears red from embarrassment. Yet even when he tried to hide it, the Archon can feel his giddiness from miles away.

Zhongli can't help but look back and forth, seeing your eyes light up with happiness because of Xiao's answer. "Thank you so much!" You smiled brightly, proceeding to put some food onto your plate to start eating.

In all this, Zhongli felt as though he didn't have a place. Perhaps you were overjoyed that you didn't look at the fact that you completely discarded him, but someone else noticed.

"Mora- Zhongli can join us too, he's good at taste testing food." Xiao looks at you, before looking at the taller man. "I think." Zhongli then nodded, agreeing with Xiao's statement.

He knows he shouldn't, he knows that he just let the two of you resolve your feelings together, just the two of you. Yet he can't, for once in his life, he feels that it's too hard to let go.

The two looked at you expectantly, despite you making it obvious that you wanted to spend some time with Xiao alone, Zhongli hoped that maybe, just this one occasion, you'll let him intervene with your growing relationship. It's selfish, it's pointless, but just this once.

You smiled, "Okay."

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

"Mr. Zhongliiii!" You burst in the funeral parlor, calling out to him. "You have to help me." The man got up from his seat immediately, worried.

"What happened?!" He asked in a panic.

You looked down onto the book in your hands, the man did the same, looking at a book that has a very interesting title.

'The Art of Romance: For Newbies.'

What?

Usually, if you were to come to him with a book like that in hand, he would have laughed and teased you, eager to see your embarrassed state. Yet, Zhongli felt nothing but hopelessness, you putting in so much effort for someone else, meaning he really has no chance, does he?

"I need to you to help me look for a really nice dress. Like really, really nice! Oh but not too nice, since we're baking, if I get stains on a dress, he might think I'm sloppy. Oh, but if it's too simple, he'll probably think that I don't really care. Ohhh, but I don't want to seem like I care too much--" You looked up at him, rambling on and on about what you're supposed to wear for tomorrow. "It says here that if the person thinks you're too desperate, they might think it's weird." You pointed at the book that you're holding, bring it closer to his face.

Zhongli gently grabbed your hands that are clasped around the book. "If you're worried about Mora, I already have some on me." You peaked your head from behind the book, looking at the brown-haired man's serious face.

"Him?" Zhongli completely ignores your ramblings, only focused on one thing you said. You're worrying so much about what to wear, just to make a good impression to him.

You felt your cheeks heat up as he looks at you with a frown on his face. You laughed a bit to ease the tension, scraching the nape of your neck.

"Xiao..." He's mentally prepared himself for this moment, you would come to him, ask for advice since you knew him as a very cultured man, and you would confess your love, for someone else. And yet, hearing it come from your own lips seem to crack the barriers of his heart with just one word.

Despite the tears wanting to just slip out of his golden orbs, he smiled at you. "I've always sensed your feelings towards him." His words fluster you even more, you didn't realize it was so obvious, but Zhongli was a very observant person, maybe it was just that.

"Do you wish to impress him tomorrow? That's why you're so... jumpy today?" You nodded, feeling embarrassed that you are worried about this sort of thing. Usually, only mortals are prone to these types of worries.

"Y/N, Xiao doesn't care about those trivial things. You just have to be yourself." He told you as a matter of fact.

'Besides, the Yaksha already is making it obvious that he likes you back.' Zhongli kept this thought internally.

"But what if he doessss." You whine, gripping on the book tighter. "Xiao is just so.... Xiao! So unpredictable and complicated." Sighing, you looked up at the man again. "Can you help me, please?"

Zhongli sighed, although it hurts him to help dress you up so pretty, just to send you off to another man, but he'll bite. How could he ever say no to you.

After hours of rummaging through your closet, you finally, finally find something that's actually good in your eyes, even though Zhongli assured you that everything would be fine.

The dress of your choice has Xiao's colors, white, gold, mint green. You really are some piece of work, piece of work that doesn't belong to him.

Zhongli just kept sighing as he walked back to the funeral parlor, he's conflicted, which usually doesn't happen. Is he just gonna leave you two alone for tomorrow with some lousy excuse, or... get in the way.

As he got to the entrance of Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, he saw Xiao, sitting on a bench just outside. The cat-eyed boy sensed Zhongli's presence, standing up and looking at his way immediately.

The brown-haired man walked up to him, silently asking why he's here all of a sudden, in the city, which also doesn't happen very often.

"Can you help me?"

Oh boy, here we go again.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

"You don't have to straight up lie if you don't like her treats, you can just give polite comments, like saying you're not really a big fan of them or something." Zhongli explained once again, it was the dead of night. Xiao had asked to help with how he should talk to you, he's not very talkative and expressive, but he doesn't want to make you feel like he doesn't like you.

"But that might also hurt her feelings." The Yaksha pointed out, listening intently to the older man.

"Yes, but she will appreciate the truth rather than a pointless lie."

He just needs help expressing his feelings right.

And Zhongli seeing how you two desperately try to be the best you can for one another, it makes him smile, despite the constant heart ache. And the realization that he has no chance for you, with the evidence right in front of him, Zhongli makes his decision...

He's ready to let go.

"I'm not gonna be joining you two tommorow."

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Alternative Ending: Ready to Hold On - Reader chooses not to choose and start a polyamory relationship.

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

CONFESSION

Prompt: Y/N is having some trouble with Dexter’s new storyline, and he will have to use all of his tools to make her admit her feelings

Word Count: Long-ish

Pairings: Dexter Lumis x Reader

Warnings: +18, smut, dom x sub dynamic, brat taming (slightly), bondage (limb restriction), dirty talk (a shit ton), spanking (light), jealousy

Editor: @thenightmareismyreality

Tag: @moxgirl , @theworldofotps , @galens-mistress , @sassymox , @yungbludjazz360 and the lovely anon (who just like me) is a part of the “Thristy for Lumis” club 😈🤣

Notes: I wanted to “keep it light” with my first fic (hopefully first of many!) with this beautiful blonde man, so here we go. If you’d like to check out my other stories, you can find them on my Masterlist

Yes, I am a little jealous, ok? I’ll confess that to you, but to him? Never!

“Hey babe, I was thinking maybe we should-“ He stopped talking once he realized I was zoned out

“Y/N?” He asked, a little louder “Are you listening?”

“Yes” I spat

“Jeez, are you ok?”

“Peachy, just peachy” I mocked, applying the moisturizer on my skin, which was still damp from my shower

“You’re angry...and you’re angry at me, I presume” I could feel his blue eyes staring at me “What did I do? Did I say something? Do something? Or maybe, it was something I was supposed to do but didn’t?”

In the short amount of time since Dexter and Indi’s storyline started, it already irritated me deeply! I like Indi, she’s nice, funny, a good friend to me and a damn good actress! The way she convinced people that she was actually in love with Dexter was insane. Even I had a little trouble remembering that she isn’t.

But I’m...territorial, I don’t like people trying to get what’s ‘mine’ , so needless to say that the plot vs. reality is starting to get a little blurry for me (although it wasn’t for them)

I love Dexter, and I’m happy for him! I was also happy for Indi, but my brain was having a smidgen of trouble processing it.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N? Peanut...please talk to me?” He sweetly asked

I sighed “You’ve done nothing wrong, Dex. I’m just...it’s me ok? Don’t worry about it”

He sensed my insecurity and crawled to the very end of the mattress, kneeling when he reached the foot of it, staring at my still-standing figure.

Placing both of his hands on my hips, he trailed his nose up my neck and collarbone, saying

“You smell so fucking good” He tried to pull me towards the bed but I declined

“Dex, not right now” I took his hands off my hips and took two steps back

“Not right now?” He tilted his head to the side, in confusion, knowing I never decline to have sex with him “Something is wrong, what is it? What happened?”

“Nothing! I just...I’m not in the mood right now” I said

“You’re not in the mood?” He chuckled, in disbelief “Peanut, you’re ALWAYS in the mood! Fuck, even when I’m not in the mood you get me in the mood! So that excuse will not work for me. Tell me, what’s going on?”

“Dexter, please, not right now, ok? We’ll fuck as much as you want to later, just not now, damn it!” I said, angrily

“I’m not pushing you to talk because I want to fuck you, I’m pushing you to talk because there’s something on your mind, and instead of talking to me, your husband, like a grown woman would, you’re just pushing it to the side like a fucking teenager!” He grabbed my hands, asking “Don’t you trust me?”

I nodded, and he continued “So tell me what’s bothering you! I love you and I wanna help you! But I can’t do it if you don’t tell me what’s wrong, peanut”

“I don’t want to say it, because it’s dumb” I murmured

“Baby” He cupped my cheek “If it’s bothering you, it’s not dumb. Tell me, what is it?”

A muffled and inaudible ‘I’m jealous’ left my lips

“I’m afraid you will have to say it a little louder” He cackled

“I wish that storyline with Indi would be over soon” I looked up at him, to find a smug smirk

“You’re jealous?” He asked

“No! I’m not jealous! I don’t get jealous!” I crossed my arms in front of my chest

“Yes, you are!” He teased “I like when you get jealous, that way I know you still have the hots for me” He tried to grab my waist

“Stop it!” I shoved him away “The reason I don’t like the storyline is because you always receive a script with too many lines to memorize and…” I trailed off

“Babe, my character doesn’t talk!” He laughed “You will have to find another excuse for your jealousy”

“Stop saying I’m fucking jealous” I pouted

“Come here, my lil peanut” He beckoned me

“No, I don’t want to”

“Y/N, I said, come.here” His eyes were turning into a cold shade of blue

“And I said, no!” I stomped my foot

Dexter quickly grabbed a handful of my hair, and pulled me towards him

“When I tell you to come here, you better come here, do you understand?” He asked, with an icy tone in his voice

When I didn’t respond, he tugged on my hair harder

“Yes, sir” I said, nonchalantly

“Oh, she’s bratty today, huh?” His other hand wrapped around my neck “I’m sure we can fix that, can’t we?”

Part of me was mad at him for teasing me because of my jealousy but the other part was getting slightly turned on with his attitude. So I decided to test the waters

“Let me go” I yanked his hand off my neck, but Dexter stared at me amused, as he kept his grip firmly on my hair

“You don’t want me to let you go, do you?” He teased

I huffed in response, which made him laugh loudly

“Of course you don’t! You want me to fuck the jealousy out of you, don’t you, baby?”

“I’m not jealous” I tried to wiggle away from him, but that only made him tug on my hair harder

“Y/N, if you wanted me to make the jealousy go away, you just had to ask nicely”

“I don’t want anything from you” I spat

“Na ah” He slapped my face lightly “Don’t you fucking talk to me like that!” He warned “Ask for it nicely, like a good girl” He teased

“Fuck off!” I tried to push him away, but he was faster

Dexter pulled me towards the mattress, I landed on it facing down and he quickly straddled my hips, securing both of my wrists behind my back with one of his hands

“Such a dirty mouth for a pretty girl” He chuckled, dragging his cloth covered bulge against my ass

“You look so cute when you’re all mad like this'' Dexter bit my shoulder and scraped his teeth against my neck “So my lil peanut is jealous, huh?” He cackled “You think Indi will steal me away from you? That’s why you’re so angry?” He took my hair away from my face, so he could look into my eyes

I stared deeply at him, with something in my gaze making his blue eyes soften

“Baby, neither Indi nor anyone else could take me away from you, you’re the woman of my dreams! I don’t want nor need any other woman in my life. The storyline is just that: a storyline, pure fiction. I like Indi the same way that you do, as a friend! She’s never tried to cross that line and if someday she or any other woman crosses it, I know what to do. I love you and I’m more than happy with our marriage. You’re my best friend, my lover, my wife, you take care of me, support me, you’re my everything! My intelligent, sexy, funny and gorgeous everything! Do you understand what I’m telling you, peanut?” He asked softly

“Yes, Dex. I understand” I smiled

“Good, now” His eyes began to get mischievous again “About that attitude...” He trailed off, reaching down to his sweatpants and undoing the drawstring

“I’m sorry for my behavior, sir” I said sheepishly, with my eyes glued to his hand

“Oh, what a drastic change!” He smirked “If I knew that at the mere thought of a dick inside of you, you would change into a good girl so quickly, I would’ve shoved it in you earlier”

Dragging my oversized t-shirt up, Dexter began to slide one finger through my wet folds

“Please, sir” I moaned “I’ll be a good girl, I promise you, just please give it to me” I whined

“Such a greedy little whore for cock, aren’t you?”

I nodded, but that didn’t suffice to him

“Say it! I wanna hear you begging for it, I want you to say the words”

“I’m a greedy little whore for cock, sir. Please, give me your cock, sir. I need it so bad...please, I’ll behave. Can I have it? Please, let me have it” I begged

Dex knelt in between my knees and placed himself on my entrance, sliding only the tip in before he stopped

“You need it? So get it, it’s all yours!” He slapped my ass “C’mon, take it”

I moved back towards his dick, as much as my restricted arms and position would let me, but I couldn’t slide him as deep as I wanted nor could I move as fast as I wished, which made me whine in frustration

“Awww, my poor peanut, what’s wrong? You can’t go as fast as you want to, can you?” He teased and I shook my head

“Do you want me to do it for you instead? Do you want sir to fuck you deep and hard?”

“Yes, sir. Please!”

I gasped loudly when he finally gave me what I was begging for...hard, fast, rough and so deep.

“Is this what you wanted?” He asked

“Yes, thank you, sir”

The familiar burning was already starting to rise inside of me

“Are you gonna cum around my cock like a good little slut, Y/N?”

“Yes, sir” I said, breathlessly

“So what are you waiting for?” He chuckled in my ear, and that was the only confirmation I needed

Dexter slowed his pace as I came down from my high. Noticing he didn’t cum, I asked

“Why didn’t you cum?”

He slid out of me, released my wrists and turned me around, so I could face him

“Who said” He slid back in “I was done with you?” Smirking, he began to increase his pace bit by bit “I still need you to confess that you’re jealous” He winked

And I knew that this little game wouldn't finish until dawn..

Please, if you’re comfortable with it, let me know your thoughts on this? Feedbacks are always appreciated 🥰😘

[bwbatta]

three - all bets on

Abstract: Draco and you are just friends so doing him a favour and pretending to be his girlfriend wouldn’t effect your friendship, right?

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader

Warnings: lil bit of swearing, lil bit of angst, lil bit of jealous Draco

Word count: 3825

A/N: GET READY (this ones a big boi) taglist for this series is still open and so is a permanent taglist for my other work (HP or not!), so let me know if you’re interested in any of them! 

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Part 2 | Part 4

“(Y/N)” 

A voice whispered loudly from behind you, trying to get your attention as you tried to ignore it.

“Psst, (Y/N)... (Y/N)!”

You were doing a spectacular job of ignoring the whisperer who desperately was trying to get your attention, but your patience ran thin when a sharp pain ran through your back.

“Ow!” you hissed, turning around with your eyes blazing “Did you just stab me with your quill?!”

“...It was really more of a poke to be completely honest”

You shot an angry glare towards the red headed boy who now looked quite sheepish.

“What do you want, Ron?” You asked annoyed

He shared a look with Harry who sat next to him and both looked hesitant to say anything, which of course only made you more impatient.

“Well? Are you going to ask me a question because I’d rather like to get this finished so I can leave to get dinner”

“Have you shagged, Malfoy?”

“Ron!”

Both Harry and you looked at Ron with varying expressions, yours was complete shock and Harry’s was a mix of slight embarrassment and curiosity.

“No, I haven’t shagged him” you narrowed your eyes towards the pair. “And even if I had, it would be none of your business”

“Are you sure you’re not being forced into dating him?” Harry questioned with a concerned look “We can help you if you are!”

“While I appreciate the help you’d offer, the answer is no. I’m not being forced into dating him” you sent the pair a glare “I’m dating Draco because I really like him”

“Well that’s a lie,” Ron scoffed “no one likes Malfoy”

“Well, okay, I agree that’s true” you shrugged “I actually love him”

“What?!”

Turning back round to finish your work, you tried to conceal the smile on your face as the two boys started pestering you again, trying to get your attention when suddenly a note landed on your desk.

The note was folded like a bird, and had been obviously charmed to act as such, as it jumped around your desk like a small robin would do.

Curious, you opened it up and immediately a smile spread across your face as you read the message.

“(Y/N),

Can I copy down your notes later? If yes, I adore you. If no, what do I have to bargain with this time? 

Also fancy dinner in the kitchens tonight? I’ve got an idea.

Draco

P.S pretend this is a cute love letter or something to piss Potter and Weasley off”

Your eyes shot over to the blonde who was already staring at you with a grin on his face.

You sent a smile of your own back, nodding to him, signalling he could copy your notes later. Thinking quickly, you also went one step further and blew him a kiss.

Draco’s cheeks blushed a little but the look he sent you could’ve melted you right where you sat.

If you hadn’t known any better, you would’ve described it as true heart eyes. 

But you did know better. 

He was just acting.

It also seemed to do the trick as Ron stabbed you in the back again with his quill, breaking your concentration from each other. You whirled around again with a glare in place.

“Stop stabbing me with your quill” you hissed

“Is that note from Malfoy?” Harry asked trying to get a look at it

“It might be”

“What does it say?” Ron questioned

“Why are you so curious? Jealous I’m getting love letters and you’re not?” you sent him a smirk 

“So it’s a love letter?” Harry asked slight disgusted at the thought of you getting one from Malfoy.

“Yes, it is. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get dinner with my boyfriend, who I love very much” 

Picking up your books, you stuffed your papers inside your bag and stood up, making your way to the door where Draco was conveniently waiting. 

The fact he was going to copy your notes later, meant as soon as he saw you pack up to leave, he jumped up, his own bag already packed, ready to join you down in the kitchens for dinner.

Harry and Ron sat watching you wander over to Draco with a grin on your face as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pressing a kiss to your temple to rile up the two Gryffindor boys.

“Ready to go?” your fake boyfriend asked you with a smile to which you nodded, eager for food away from prying eyes and curious questions.

The two of you made your way down to the kitchens, talking about what you were hungry for and before you knew it, a huge plate of a roast dinner was placed in front of you.

“Oh my,” you practically drooled “look how pretty this is”

“I hope you have the same reaction when you see me?” Draco joked

“Unless you suddenly turn into a plate of food, it’s a no, sorry honey”

“Maybe not a plate of food, but I am a snack”

You did not address the comment, only sent him an amused look which he smirked proudly at getting some sort of reaction from you. 

The two of you dug into your meals, chatting about absolute nonsense gossip you’d heard throughout the day. Apparently you’d missed Seamus Finnegan blowing up not only his own water goblet, but the rest of Gryffindor table’s, trying to turn it into Firewhiskey when you were in the Library.

Through a mouthful of roast potato, you suddenly made an exclamation like you’d suddenly remembered something, catching the blonde boy’s attention.

“Yes?” he asked amused at you trying to swallow your food quick enough to say something before you forgot your thought process.

“What was your idea you mentioned earlier?” you finally managed to ask. “The one you mentioned in your note?”

“Ahh” he began as he set down his knife and fork “I have an idea about something we can do to make people believe we’re a couple more?”

“Go on?” You asked curious, taking another bite of your food

“We could make out?”

Well, you didn’t expect that.

And the fact you were now choking on your mouthful, showed that perfectly well.

Draco patted your back as you trying to regain your breath. Finally able to swallow your food, you took a gulp of water to clear your mouth.

“Sorry” you muttered

“No worries, if I knew you were going to react like that I would’ve prepared you” he grinned at your embarrassment.

“Piss off”

You rolled your eyes at him before locking his gaze with your own unamused look.

“So?” He pressed

“Um... yeah, I guess that could work”

You fiddled with your sleeve as you tried to pull off an unbothered expression, when all you could now think about in your head was the fact you’d be kissing your best friend.

“Right?! That’s what I was thinking! No one would be able to deny we weren’t dating after we’d kiss in the Great Hall or something where everyone could see.”

“Yeah” you collected yourself and yanked yourself back into your confident persona “I mean, go big or go home right?! All bets on.”

“Exactly” he nodded in agreement “We do this and everyone will believe it”

You mirrored his nod and shot him a smile, hiding your nervousness immaculately. If there was one thing you could do, it was hide your true emotions.

“Yeah... everyone”

“Hey, when’s the potions essay due again?”

“Tomorrow”

“...Shit”

Hermione gave you an unamused stare as you sat across from her in the Gryffindor common room.

The witch had made you promise to study with her for the test Flitwick had set for charms, especially since neither Harry nor Ron felt it urgent to do so.

“Don’t tell me you forgot about it?!”

“Nope, it was totally intentional for me to leave an entire essay due to do the night before” you shrugged sarcastically causing Hermione to send you another of her stares. 

To be completely honest, you probably would’ve done it last night if Draco hadn’t taken you to the kitchens for dinner. You two ended up staying there for the rest of the evening, partly for the instant snacks from the house elves, partly because you two just enjoyed each others company more than anyone else. You had to admit though, the pumpkin pasties were worth it.

“Well don’t come running to me for help when you need it” Hermione miffs “I told you to get it done as soon as it was set otherwise you’ll forget it, and look what’s happened? You’ve-”

“Forgotten it, yes okay, thank you. You getting a good view up there from your high horse?!”

“Don’t be silly” 

Hermione went to say something else but was interrupted.

“Hey, (Y/N)”

Lee Jordan smiled at you effortlessly as you sent him a smile back, slightly confused as to why he was there in the first place. He looked slightly nervous when you looked closer, his fingers playing with the edge of his sleeve.

“Hi, Lee. You alright?”

“Yeah, I actually wanted to ask you something, if you’re not busy?”

“Go ahead, I’m not doing anything interesting”

An annoyed scoff from the witch sitting opposite you said different.

Lee’s eyes flicked between the two of you before they settled back on you.

“I actually wanted to ask you if you wanted to go to the next Hogsmeade weekend with me?”

You were confused. Surely everyone, especially Lee because of the twins, knew you were going out with Draco. It had been all anyone had asked you about for the past week.

“Um... I actually was going to go with Draco” you told him slowly “You know, my boyfriend?”

“Yeah but that’s not actually true is it?!” Lee laughed a little like the idea was preposterous. “I mean come on, you don’t actually like the guy, right?”

You bristled slightly at the way Lee spoke about Draco. Sure, the boy was an wanker to most of the Gryffindors, if not all of them, but he wasn’t a truly bad person. 

Most of the way he acts is down to how he was raised by his parents, and after meeting Lucius one summer, you could understand why.

“Nope, I actually love the guy, which is part of the reason why I’m his girlfriend”

“You love him?!” Hermione jumped in, just as surprised as Lee

The tone Hermione used also didn’t sit right with you 

“Yep, we’re super in love” you grinned at her unfazed, not showing any hesitation about the subject. “So as nice as your offer is, Lee, I’ll have to turn it down, sorry”

The boy looked taken aback as if he thought you wouldn’t turn him down.

“Right, well, okay. Sorry to bother you” Lee smiled at you which you returned before he walked away.

You were still slightly shocked that Lee had just asked you out, when it was pretty much common knowledge for everyone in the castle, that you were in a relationship. 

It solidified the point that Draco and you needed to make it more convincing though. 

Nonetheless you turned back to your study notes, hoping to put this from your mind, but before any more studying could be done, the notes were snatched away.

“Nope, you’re not doing anything else until you tell me what’s really going on”

Laughing slightly you rolled your eyes at the dramatics of your friend. 

“Really?!”

“Really! And despite the fact you somehow think I’m stupid-”

“You’re far from stupid, Mione-”

“Shhh” she actually shushed you as you interrupted her causing you to snort under your breath. “You really didn’t think I wouldn’t pick up on how Malfoy just so happens to not make any more insulting comments towards me?”

“Like I’ve told you before, he’s not a bad person and it’s not a huge change-”

“Yes it is!”

You stilled slightly at the conviction in her voice, words dying on your tongue before you could even utter them.

“He used to call me a mudblood every time we were in the same room, (Y/N). Now he nods to me and actually acts like I’m not some piece of dirt on his shoe? Somethings up.”

You never thought the dynamic between the two was really that bad, so you found yourself not really knowing what to say. Hermione continued regardless of your silence.

“I know you don’t know how much he used to insult me, or torment me because regardless of anything, the boy absolutely adores you so much so he would bite his tongue whenever you were in the room. Though now he’s actively going out of his way to be civil with me, even when you’re not around? I don’t trust it.”

Again, you were at a loss for words. But overwhelmingly you felt like a terrible friend.

“Hermione... I didn’t know it was that bad between you”

“Well it is, or was” she shook her head as if to centre her thoughts. “Look, fine, don’t tell me what’s going on, just promise me you’ll be careful.”

“Careful of what?” you asked confused as to what she was talking about now.

Sighing heavily, Hermione grabbed her books and started to pile them up. Standing up she paused, letting her eyes rest on you as you could tell she was debating what to say to you.

“Just be careful you don’t get caught up in whatever game you’re playing too much” 

With that being said, the witch turned and headed towards the Gryffindor girl’s dormitories, no more words said between the two of you. The ones last said being enough to linger in your head.

“Hey, Sweetheart”

You were surprised for a second which showed on your face before you quickly gathered yourself and sent a dazzling smile back to the blonde who had sat down next to you.

Hermione’s words had been on your mind since the previous night, enough to distract you as you were up, attempting to write your essay in the small hours of the night. You were exhausted, but somehow seeing Draco had made you feel just that little bit better.

“Morning” you replied, blushing slightly as Draco pressed a kiss to your temple (which was now becoming a normal thing for him to do), and wrapped an arm around your shoulder.

“You two are awfully cosy this morning” Blaise remarked as he took the seat opposite.

“What, am I not allowed to sit with my girlfriend for breakfast and show her some affection?!” Draco asked whilst grabbing a few slices of bacon from the buffet in front of him.

“Never said you weren’t” Blaise rolled his eyes at his best mate “just that you guys are disgustingly close”

“Aww thanks Blaise” you smiled at him innocently, clutching your coffee mug close to your chest, as he shot you a look which made you chuckle.

Pulling you closer to him, Draco leaned down to your ear to stage whisper loud enough so the boy opposite could hear.

“Don’t worry about him, he’s just jealous he’s single and doesn’t have someone to kiss in the morning”

“Alright, piss off you two. If (Y/N) wanted to go out with anyone I had hoped it would’ve been me, but I’ll live” Blaise joked as you chuckled along with him. 

Draco sent his friend an amused look.

“Stop hitting on my girl, Zabini”

“Yeah yeah, I’m just joking” the wizard rolled his eyes at the Malfoy boy as the two of you shared a chuckle. This was until a prominent thought popped into your head.

“Oh, guess what happened last night?” you asked the blonde wizard who sent you an inquisitive glance as he took a bite out of a slice of toast. “Lee Jordan asked me out.”

At once, Draco’s face dropped it’s curious expression to form one of annoyance and agitation. 

“What?!” he practically hissed. “Does he not know you have a boyfriend?”

“Apparently, he thought it was a joke” you told him, eyes quickly assessing his reaction.

Leaning into you and pressing his forehead to your temple, it would’ve looked couple-y to anyone else but it just meant he could whisper to you so no one else would hear.

“What did you say?” he whispered 

“I said that I was your girlfriend” you whispered back, playing with his fingers of the hand wrapped around your shoulder. “I let him know I was taken, don’t worry.”

“But I am worrying (Y/N), he doesn’t know it’s a joke!”

“...Are you jealous? Offended someone else asked me out?”

“No! I just don’t like people asking out my girlfriend”

You turned your head so both your foreheads rested together. Resting your hand on his cheek, your thumb brushed over his cheekbone as his gaze met yours.

“I’m yours okay... for however long you want me to be your fake girlfriend” you caught yourself with an awkward chuckle. “I’m all in.”

Draco felt a smile creep up on his lips and he could help but take you in. You had this calming aura around you, which he felt like was almost soothing his soul just being next to you. 

He found it addicting.

A cough from opposite the table caught your attention and both your eyes snapped over to Blaise how pointedly looked towards the entrance of the Great Hall.

Catching sight of Pansy entering the hall, eyes darting round, no doubt looking for the blonde boy next to you, you couldn’t help the noise of irritation which left your lips.

Draco smiled at the sound, enjoying the fact you were as annoyed as him when it came to the girl. He pulled you closer to him, slotting you under his arm as you wrapped your own arm around his waist in turn tucking yourself into his side.

“Bitch incoming” you muttered under your breath

Draco snorted under his breath before rolling his eyes at the smile Pansy sent him as she wandered over to the three of you.

“Oh Merlin” Blaise groaned as she took the seat next to him, opposite from you.

“Hi guys”

“Is there some reason you’re sitting with us?” you found yourself asking as the girl shot you a snide glare.

“I just wanted to sit with my friends, is that such a crime?”

“What friends?” Blaise muttered loud enough for everyone present to hear.

“Pansy, we’d rather eat without your face putting us off our food” Draco shrugged.

Pansy eyed the arm holding you securely to him with a look of envy and disgust, like it was disturbing her immensely.

“Oh Drakey, don’t be mean, where else am I meant to go?!”

“If you ask nicely, the pound might take you back” you joked which earned you amused snorts from both boys.

Any expression on her face, which was put on for politeness, dropped instantly and Pansy glared at you like looks could kill.

“So first you steal my boyfriend and then you insult me?”

“I wasn’t your boyfriend, I will never be your boyfriend” Draco sighed like the topic was getting old.

“And then,” Pansy continued, completely disregarding the Malfoy boy’s comment, “you think you can just play around with a rumour that you two are together, and everyone’s just going to believe it? Come on, I haven’t even seen you two kiss. This little act you’re putting on might just ruin that friendship of yours.”

There was no doubt about it, Pansy Parkinson was jealous, vengeful and relentless. 

You knew convincing her would be the biggest problem of this whole plan but that’s exactly what you needed to do; convince her.

With this in mind, you sat up straight and looked her dead in the eyes.

“You don’t believe us because we haven’t kissed in front of you?”

“I think the fact that you two haven’t kissed in front of anyone proves you’re just faking it” she shrugged.

“So you want proof?” Draco asked with a scoff “That I would choose (Y/N), a decent, good human being, over you, to be in a relationship with?”

Pansy pulled an expression like her question was obvious.

“Alright, how’s this for proof?”

The arm wrapped around your shoulder changed and Draco cupped your face in the palm of his hand. 

Brushing back a lock of your hair with the other hand, he took a brief moment to study your face, thumb rubbing softly on your cheekbone. Your eyes met his and the same determination was reflected within your own eyes at how much you wanted to show this bitch, that the boy now looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky, was yours. 

Leaning down, Draco’s eyes never left yours, looking for any uncertainty, but found none. This gave him the confidence he needed and before you knew it, his lips were on yours.

You were certain your brain short circuited. 

His lips were soft but determined, as the kiss you shared started slow, almost finding comfort in each other, before his other hand rose to cup the other side of your face. 

That was when your heart really skipped a beat.

It was like a fire was burning in your chest, almost painfully as you put everything you had into this kiss with Draco, and everything around you drowned out except for the boy in front of you.

He was addicting. 

Draco however, could hardly express how right this kiss felt. 

He really hadn’t expected how your lips would’ve felt until he met them, yet this was better than he could’ve ever predicted. You were all consuming, you were perfect, you were everything.

Holding your face between his hands like you were the most delicate thing, he just sunk into the feeling of kissing you. It was almost like finding something he had been missing.

Like he had been missing kissing you.

Pulling back after what felt like forever, when it could’ve only been seconds? Minutes? Draco wasn’t sure. Time had completely escaped him.

His eyes met yours and it was like the two of you were lost in each other. 

The fact that the two of you were so wrapped up in each other, you didn’t see how whispers spread through the Great Hall and soon everyone was watching the pair of you.

You didn’t see how the golden trio shared a look between the three of them, each concerned about you, and how wrapped up you were in Draco. 

You didn’t see how Fred handed George five galleons, an obvious bet having been made between the two of them.

You didn’t notice how Pansy, filled with envy and rage, left the Hall in a strop, Blaise’s amused gaze following her. 

You did however, notice how easy it was to get lost in the blonde wizard.

Especially his lips, and the way he whispered three words against them, not breaking eye contact with you.

“I’m all in.”

Series Taglist: (If you’re in bold I’m unable to tag you for some reason, sorry!)

@weasleytwinswheezes @azkabanlexi @streetfighterrichie @queen-of-the-coven @gdee703 @thatguppienamedbae @crumpets-are-better-with-jam @savcks @remmyswritings @thescarletknight2014 @w0nderr @heyiheardyouwereawildone36 @moonlightorbit @ceeellewrites @nicole-prz @depressedchilipepper @swiftlymoniquesblog @soshitan @pastel-skyline @sokkasdarling @thatdumbbitchxx @emmamarie7708 @idkatee @malfovs @fadesbrina @slytherinxraven @purplewcrld @lauren-100 @lulbabes @s4dthrills @dracoswhore007 @parkeroffline @lord-byron @its-chickenwing-450 @hales-a-bells @loonyslytherin

Draco Taglist:

@torchwoodoctor @crouchless @coldheartedslytherin @a-coffee-bean @ochrythum

[lifewithdavefarts]

DaveFarts - Episode 11 “VoiceFarting” [Episode List] Tim and Adam are hanging out on... Liscord, playing some stuff together, waiting for Dave to join them for a game. When Adam unexpectedly has to leave however, Dave decides to do some… microphone testing.

VoiceFarting

“I’m going in as a mage ‘cause you fuckers can’t cast for shit” I heard Adam say right into my ears.

This was one of our usual game nights. We’d voice chat on Liscord on our own server and all that stuff. Adam was being, for the lack of a better term, kind of bitchy, ‘cause he thinks as himself as the most skilled gamer around even though we’re always reviving his ass. In the end it’s all in good fun of course, but we’d all happily mute him during a match if we could.

“Yes, Adam. Have fun with the ‘easy mode’ character.” I said, deliberately baiting him.

“Listen here you little shit” he immediately blurted “I can accept that you’re gay but I’m not going to accept the fact that you’re a scrub.” he said, obviously joking, though he did take skills seriously during a match.

“Yeah yeah but I’m the one using the axe, fighting enemies face-to-face like a man.” I kept teasing him. “How’s going up there? Still casting light arrows from your safe space?” I cackled.

“Excuse me???” his icon lighting up, the audio clipping “Why don’t we check your stats instead? Too afraid of looking like the scrub you are??? I literally made no mistakes last time.”

“Of course you didn’t: the chance of making mistakes is like 0% when you stand still and far from the battle.”

There was a moment of silence, then I heard Adam’s breath into the mic “You know I know where you live, right?”

I laughed but before I could continue this very deep and mature battle of wits, we both heard the sound notifying us that our bud Dave joined the voice chat. Now, whenever Dave joins, we usually hear every sound except for his voice, so we were ready to have our ears busted because of the noi-

“Hey noobs!” Dave greeted us, with a voice that was instead crystal clear.

“What the hell” both me and Adam said, our avatars lighting up at the same time.

“I see you noticed that you can now hear my beautiful voice perfectly.” he bragged, and rightfully so.

Normally we could hear his PC’s fans, what was going on down the street, cars passing by, atoms crashing into each others… farts. But now it was just Dave with his now-soothing voice calling us names.

“Are you finished?” Adam said.

But there was no response from Dave.

“Did he finally die?” Adam continued.

I heard a faint sigh of relief from Dave and then he went “Yeah, now I’m finished.”

I kind of suspected what happened but I didn’t say a word.

“Wait. You didn’t hear a thing?” Dave asked, puzzled.

Both me and Adam shrugged as if he could see us, but then said that no, we didn’t.

My detective skills told me that my gassy straight bud ripped one of his classic loud farts, but the new microphone had that “background noise reduction” feature (which my friend seriously needed) so it didn’t register his ass-blast as the old one usually did, so much so that Dave’s frequent farts would eventually turn into white noise for the rest of us. But now, his new headset was actually worth the price and all we could hear was indeed his voice.

“Can we just get into the game befo-“ Adam blurted, but was cut off mid-sentence by a loud, ear-piercing sound coming from Dave, though that wasn’t him speaking or screaming.

My fartbro really didn’t want us to miss what his ass is capable of, so we were both startled by a powerful, audio-clipping fart that completely overwhelmed our voice begging him to stop. And he did stop, but only after like 12 seconds. The rip was followed by the sound of Dave re-adjusting his microphone and laughing. “Hopefully you heard that now.” he chuckled.

I did hear it. I was very familiar with it. Truth is that Dave farting during our game sessions wasn’t anything new however. Even I was used to it, though that did pitch a tent in my shorts. I started wondering whether Dave was in jeans, shorts or boxers. Probably the latter, and shirtless, given that it was a warm evening. I tried to not to let my usual simp-ness over my bro take over me but apparently it was already too late, as I didn’t even notice Adam begin pissed off about an unwanted phone call.

“I’m sorry guys, I gotta take this one.” he said, annoyed. “Do not wait for me. Cya tomorrow I guess.”

And logged off, another sound notifying us that he went into the terrible real world realm.

“Alone at last, bro.” Dave said, in a flirty tone, just as Adam left.

I laughed and mindlessly switched to a different, this time single-player game as we needed at least 3 guys to play, one of those brutal action games that I suck at but I have to beat.

Dave did the same, with a similar game, and we both started gaming on our own but keeping each other company, like we usually do, occasionally exchanging opinions on what we were playing and so on.

“It’s probably his ex-girlfriend” Dave said.

“Yeah. I figured.” I simply answered.

Adam wasn’t really talkative about his personal stuff like me or even Dave, so neither us really knew what was going on. But if our bud didn’t want us to know, not fully know at least, then we respect this decision.

After a couple of more minutes of silence, I heard some sounds coming from Dave. Not a fart, this time though.

“Did you say something?” I asked.

I heard some muffled noises and then Dave’s voice, lower than usual though “I’m just messing with the settings here. I feel like sometimes the volume gets messed up.” and he was right.

“Yeah the audio is kind of low now.” I warned him.

I heard some more noises (keyboard tapping, mouse clicking, etc.) and then I heard him speak again.

Or, to be more precise, he did make a sound with his mouth, though those weren’t words; a loud belch, actually, right into my ears. Dave was more of a farter, but he wasn’t new to wild, incredible burps. I honestly prefer the more disgusting butt explosion, but I still tip my hat at my bro being a masterful air-bender from both ends.

“Yes, I did hear that.” I said, anticipating his question.

He laughed. “Thank you.” he answered, belching both word with care.

A couples of minutes of silence followed, with just me and Dave occasionally chatting but overall trying to be focused on our respective games. My straight bro was however not done with the “testing”.

“Are you hearing this bro?” he suddenly asked, trying not to laugh.

“No…?” I was puzzled.

“Wait. Let me just…”

I heard Dave removing his headset and as it got farther away from his head, a familiar sound got louder and louder instead, until it became unbearable.

“Are you hearing this now?” he shouted, though I could heard him over that sound.

The sound of yet another loud blast of gas, so loud it was glitching the audio. It was long and proud, dry as some of his best rips, and it just wouldn’t stop. The boss I was fighting somehow felt how distracted I was and one-shotted me with a swipe of his flaming sword but I couldn’t even hear any in-game sound ‘cause my straight gassy bro was basically farting right into my ears, albeit indirectly.

I instinctively reached for the pitched tent between my legs as the fart kept going strong and loud, so loud in fact that I had to lower the volume ‘cause my hears were starting to hurt.

After a grand total of 18 seconds, I once again heard Dave putting his headphones back on his head, wondering whether they were radioactive or melting at this point, due to all that poisonous gas.

“I gotta say… the sound quality is pretty spot-on. What headset are you using?” I joked.

Dave chuckled. “The same as yours actually. Thanks for the advice.”

We kept chatting a bit more as if he wasn’t a gassy teasing bastard but since he *is* a gassy teasing bastard I once again heard him, with no warning nor request from me, removing his headphones again and putting them (I assume) closer to the source of his underwear-clad ass.

Unsurprisingly, yet another manly, loud rip blasted through my own headphones right into my eardrums, renewing the hard-on I had only moments before. It sounded like a motorcycle passing by and I could only imagine how badly the stench was in Dave’s room. Lasting around 11 seconds, this time it got dangerously wet-ish towards the end, which I found hilarious but also made me rightfully worried about my bro maybe going a bit too far even for both of our standards.

“Dude.” I said, laughing a bit “You might want to go easy. That sounded risky.”

Dave, being the chill guy he is, just laughed about it. “Don’t worry, dude. I’m an expert.” and he ripped a short toot that was so loud I could even hear it without the microphone going straight into his butt this time.

We then kept gaming a bit more on our own. Dying over and over to that same boss made me think about how chill Dave was being -as usual- about my kink. I mean don’t get me wrong he always farted a lot while voice chatting but this time it was different, as he was now aware of my fetish. And, as always, I really appreciated that, just as I appreciated yet another thunderous blast, one that actually startled me, making me lose YET AGAIN.

“FUCK!” I blurted.

As the fart kept going, Dave moved the microphone closer to his face (but I still could hear the fart going) just to laugh at my gaming skills, completely aware however that his farts were a huge distraction on its own. He then planted the microphone once again in front of his butt and the blast went loud and proud.

“It’s just too easy.” he then chuckled, after finishing ripping that monstrous fart.

It was. I had to pause the game for a couple of minutes to calm down, the tent between my legs going harder and harder. Was Dave aware of this part as well? Of course he was, but he didn’t care. It was just a game for him, and he was constantly proving me how much of a pro gamer he was.

I hope he never gets nerfed.

End of Episode 11

[britishassistant]

@emyluwinter submitted: Hi!!With you again a freelance newspaperman who writes about the reporter Yuu and the Prefect!! I am very glad that you liked my little stories so much that I wrote earlier!!! It's very encouraging that my work is appreciated.

So today will be a small addition to the latest events related to the villainy of Crowley in the form of the kidnapping of Yuu's "family" and friends,and after the final" conversation " of the Prefect with Crowley.

Because of the noise and shouting, opening the room with a spare key, several henchmen cautiously look inside. Yuu had already changed back into civilian clothes and put on extra gloves to hide the knuckles on his hands that had been cut from the blows. - Um....chief, how are you? Yuu takes a deep breath. - Your boss should call a doctor. - So we were talking about you, micro-chief, - one of the minions adds, almost in a whisper. - Huh?Why am I a micro-chef? - Yuu looked at them in confusion. - Well...it's like you've just "talked" to the leader of one of the most powerful villains in the League of Villains.. - Plus your uncle, Mr. Cruel. - Your' family ' and friends are all right. We're not crazy enough to hurt them. - I don't really want to have a walrus's heel sewn on my forehead, - one of the henchmen added ruefully. Yuu couldn't believe it. - Are they really all right? - That's right, micro-chief! But please leave before Mr. Cruel breaks us down into test tubes. We want to live. - And I have a cat at home, how can I be without it. So we'll show you to the exit. Yuu chuckles uncomfortably.It was the first time he had felt so strange. Perhaps it was a mixture of shock, fear, and despair, laced with anger and rage. But for a second, he felt all the power that Crowley held in his hands. But now all this was not necessary, only his loved ones were important.

- Thank you..no, really, I'm grateful that they're safe and sound. - Yuu felt that all these minions were no different from civilians, and they just worked wherever they wanted. And now they are worried about the fact that their superiors have made a lot of mistakes. - Your cameraman friend is a great word player! - I lost three rounds in a row to him. Minions distract Yuu with simple and cute conversations. Some of them showed their pets. Yuu was even asked to sign an autograph as their favorite reporter. They were very moved by their understanding. Although for the most part, they behaved so as not to run into even more trouble. ***

TWST Anita hugged her baby tightly. - Oh Yuu, I was worried if you were okay. - Sorry, Mom - Yuu could barely hold on, they were terribly tired for this day and the last thing they wanted to do was go back to the kidnappings and villainies. TWST Roger patted their hair affectionately. - We were tied up just for show. The rest of the time off-camera, we sat on their couch. - He won four games of cards with the guards,- Anita added, chuckling softly. - Well, they're not stupid enough to harm us.- Roger chuckled. Yuu was just glad that they were all right. Yuuken held Grimm in his arms while standing next to them. - You held out well. - I should have burned all his feathers! - Grimm snorted. - And you cheated, Yuuken! You've made up more than half the words! - No, I didn't cheat, the guards told you the words. Yuu took a deep breath, the growing panic attack quickly passed in his parents ' arms and listening to Yuuken and Grimm. Uncle Divus arrived just a few minutes before the lair to make sure they were all right. None of the minions or minions were even willing to leave shadows in his path. "I sincerely apologize, Anita, that that idiot with the feathers would do something like that. Divus said guiltily, looking at his sister. - Don't take Divvy personally, I know that neither you nor Yuu will let us offend anyone. Everything ended well. - Anita said gently. Cruel relaxed a little at the realization that there was nothing wrong with the people close to him. Looking at the tired Yuu,Kruel just silently hugged him and hugged him very tightly. - You did very well, Yuu. I'm proud of you. - Thank you, Uncle Divvy...I think this time it's over once and for all. -I heard from the guards that Prefect beat him to the intensive care unit, but I don't know how he managed to get in. Yuu chuckled mirthlessly - yes, Prefect helped me out when it was most needed. Ah...I saw him get through the vent or something. Roger swore softly. - Damn it, I wanted to get his autograph! - Roger!Why do you need an autograph? - Little kitty King even has one, I also want an autograph!

Grimm uneasily climbs onto Yuu's shoulders and rubs his head against Yuu's cheek. He watched Yuu more closely than anyone else and saw the state they were in. - Hey .. Yuu. - Yes, Grimm? - Let you take a vacation, your hands are shaking like you're not letting go of a jackhammer. - Grimm glared at Yuu. - I absolutely agree with him, Yuu. Honey, you need a break, you have black eyes and you've lost weight since the last time we met. Being under constant stress is detrimental to your health. - Div, what about that country house you were talking about the other day? - Roger immediately joined in, taking up the idea. - I'm driving, so we can all go together. - Yuuken, you'll go too, no objection,- Anita smiled softly. - Yes, ma'am. I'll just talk to my superiors about letting us go for a couple of days. - Weeks at least,- Сruel added. *** Sitting surrounded by at least 15 pups, Yuu felt like he was falling asleep, they were really too tired for everything that had happened. The quiet snuffling of the pups around him brought him back nostalgically to the time when Yuu was just learning to play the piano with his father and, due to his age and height, couldn't reach the pedals below. How he and Uncle Divus would look at all sorts of fashion magazines, and Yuu would try to draw this or that dress or suit with crayons under his uncle's guidance. Even now, he could hear his mother and father discussing something with Uncle Divvy over a bottle of wine and quiet laughter. Grimm and Juuken fell asleep in a couple of minutes lying on the couch. Grimm climbed onto Yuuken's stomach and used it as a pillow.

Only in the evening, waking up from the doorbell, Yuu sleepily opened his eyes, they slept so soundly and well that they did not even notice how one of the particularly daring and playful puppies tried to gnaw his sleeve. - Who's, Uncle Divvy? - Yuu rubbed his eyes and yawned contentedly. Cruel carried several boxes into the room. - Courier with delivery, although it is strange that no one expected a special package. - What's is Divvy? - It came in the name of Yuu. - Me? - After getting out of the trap of the puppies, Yuu looked at the boxes with a puzzled expression. They were all in his name. And then Yuu noticed several small cards attached to the boxes. In the first box were expensive bagels with filling and frosting. It was a gift from Tsunotaro with an apology that they had to go through all this and Crowley had caused them so much inconvenience.

In the boxes from Tsunotaro there was also a basket of wild roses with a very pleasant and subtle aroma. Several varieties of very delicious tea and a letter was enclosed in an envelope. - "The items are very expensive and refined. Who is this secret fan, sweety? - Anita smiled softly. - From a friend, Mom...a very kind and good friend. - Yuu pulled out the letter and sat down on a chair and began to run his eyes over the beautiful written lines. Malleus certainly tried to put all his feelings and sincere empathy into the lines. The letter was very touching and full of grace, but the one phrase that caught Yuu's attention most was the one from the villain. "If you or your loved ones need help, please contact me first. It doesn't matter what the circumstances are, it doesn't matter who I have to stand up against, whether it's villainous or even heroic, I will always help you no matter what happens, my dear and sweet reporter. Your loyal friend and " pink ink was added "and the most important terrible villain" - this must have been Vanruge. ... your loyal friend and loyal fan. Enjoy your vacation, we'll probably take a break for a while, too. " At the bottom was another postscript in pink ink : "One of the minions had the temerity to fall asleep in a den with the windows open. And now in our shelter a flock of birds, rabbits, squirrels and other small creatures that need to be attached" Yuu choked on a laugh as he imagined the mighty Tsunotaro surrounded by all these cute little animals. Finally, this long day gave Yuu something good, at least they will spend a few days with their family and close friends. Finally, the long-awaited rest and a short vacation came. By the way, the bagels with stuffing that were sent were damn delicious. - To bribe me on an empty stomach, up villainy is not otherwise-Yuu grinned, finishing another bagel. Thank you for your attention!

AAAAAAAH, I LOVE THIS!!

The perfect little ending to ease the sad of the last submission!! Yuu getting away with beating up Crowley! Crowley’s henchpeople treating Yuu with more respect and kindness than birb dad does!! Yuu’s dad wanting the Prefect’s autograph!! Forcing Yuu onto a vacation because their family loves them and wants them to feel safe and happy!! Yuuken and Grim going home with them and falling asleep in the puppy pile together!! Malleus’ care package and Lilia’s additions to his note!! I LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS!!

Thank you so much for sending this in!!

[szallejhscorner]

Hey, could you make a Chishiya and Arisu but they're just allies and friends in the games? I've just been reading all your chishiya stuff and love it so much but I think it would be cool to see them in a platonic light

Ohh, my very first Arisu request! I like this idea, thanks for sharing it with me ☺️

I went for a game because it seemed the best thing for me, although the timeline differs a bit from the series since I don’t think Chishiya would sacrifice Arisu if he was his friend.

Cat and Mouse

From the very beginning, Arisu has been one of the most interesting people joining the Beach. Not only has he found this place on his own, observing the wristbands and following other players until he found Hatter’s Utopia, but Arisu has been the one looking through the Five of Spades game, just like Chishiya did.

Upon seeing him in the waiting area there for the first time, Chishiya had assumed that this boy with messy hair and puppy eyes had to be a newbie, but then he proved to be smart enough to survive and find the room containing the buttons.

Yes, the intellect of Arisu is valuable. If only he wasn’t such a naïve and good-hearted person, easily trusting the wrong people. He did trust Chishiya, right from the start, even though Chishiya had originally planned to use him for the plan and then get him killed if it was required.

That was before he somehow started to actually appreciate the presence of the boy. Like Kuina, Arisu too has become a valuable companion, maybe even... a friend.

Chishiya is still hesitant to use that term. Friends are something he never really had and what he never cared for, and he didn’t need them. Neither as a child, when loneliness had been his constant companion, nor as an adult, especially not in the Borderlands. Only when Kuina had begun to call him a friend again and again, it made him think about it further.

It is still something different within the Borderlands. Any of them could be dead the next day, and even if they all manage to survive, no one can guarantee that they will see each other again. He doesn’t even know if he’d want that – to meet Kuina or Arisu after the Borderlands, when all of them have returned to their old lives.

But here, it’s actually not too bad to have a friend, or even two. Days with Kuina’s hilarious attitude never get boring, and Arisu is actually smart enough to keep up in conversations with Chishiya. And what’s even more interesting is that tonight is the second game they’re playing together since Arisu has joined the Beach.

Putting two of the Beach’s best Diamonds players together is a waste in Chishiya’s mind. The first game probably has been a kind of test, although Arisu already passed the first game supervised by An, but now they’re sitting in the same car again. The amount of cars hasn’t decreased tonight compared to the other days, which means that enough groups are in need for a good Diamonds player, and yet they put two of them, both Executives on top of that, together.

Not that Chishiya would complain about that. He doesn’t care about the other games probably lacking valuable players, since it always turns out to be interesting when Arisu is part of the game.

Said boy notices his glance and turns his head, hair tousled as always and wearing just another of his wannabe funny shirts. It’s a miracle to Chishiya how Arisu can see at all with all those strands blocking his eyesight, but it works somehow.

“Wonder why we’re in the same group again?” asks the boy, following the same thoughts as Chishiya, who only shrugs.

He doesn’t know much about the other players inside their car, since most of them are new and won’t be alive long enough to memorize their names. There’s just one of the Militants with them, a man quite acceptable when it comes to Spades games. “Diamonds isn’t your only advantage. You’re good at Hearts games too, so I suppose you count as a Hearts player today.”

Arisu snorts, a pained expression filling his eyes. “I survived the last Hearts game”, he mutters, “but that doesn’t mean I’m good at it.”

Chishiya knows what happened some days prior to Arisu’s arrival at the Beach. Not that he’d have asked for it – Arisu told him during their last car ride. How his friends from the real world sacrificed their lives for Arisu to live, and how he still mourns their loss and dreads the thoughts of another Hearts game.

Arisu has potential, though, no matter if he wants to believe it or not. He has just the right amount of cleverness and insight into human nature to look past the manipulative aspect of the games, even more now that he has been part of a harder one. It doesn’t matter if he likes it or not, he’s more likely to solve them than many others.

Not caring to give an answer, Chishiya turns to the window and watches the city fly by. Distant lights mark the game areas and hints leading to them, and after a couple of minutes more, they arrive at their own area.

The building holds nothing of interest, indicating that the game itself won’t be too interesting itself. What’s different to the previous games is that this one doesn’t only have a minimum number of players, but it must be an even number in case to start.

Once they reach eight players, the chiming voice announces a Five of Diamonds. This will be an easy one.

Seven doors lead away from the entrance, all stating that two players each can enter, so 14 is the maximum number of players suitable for this game. And they need to gather in pairs.

“I suppose we team up?” grins Arisu while he tucks the phone into his pocket. The timer won’t start until everyone has taken their place, and some of the others will probably take a while to settle for a game partner.

Chishiya shrugs again. “Whatever.” He doesn’t mind having Arisu in his team, however he would have preferred no teams at all. Since that’s not possible, someone almost as clever as him is the best option he can choose, and he already walks towards one of the doors when the boy calls him back.

“Hey, Chishiya…” Arisu ruffles his hair even more, his grin now carrying a hint of insecurity. “If… let’s say only one of both players can survive… You wouldn’t hesitate to kill me, right?”

An interesting question. It would suit the Borderlands to create such games where teams are separated and forced to sacrifice one of them, but that would be more likely for a Hearts game. Arisu is right though – Chishiya won’t hesitate in case such a decision is required.

He shakes his head. “No. Don’t expect me to make a sacrifice like your dead friends. No other life is worth sacrificing my own.”

Chishiya doesn’t feel ashamed to admit that Arisu is a kind of friend to him, but it might still have a different meaning for him than for the shaggy-haired boy. The sigh coming from Arisu sounds surprisingly relieved, and he soon walks up to Chishiya to enter the door. “I’m glad you’re honest to me.”

The other side of the door reveals two smaller rooms, one for each player. Turns out both exits are locked with a number pad, and several codes have to be typed in to get out. The codes are answers to questions hidden all throughout the rooms, and the answers are somewhere in the opposite room.

“So it’s not about killing one of us.” Arisu chuckles, a sound that’s muffled through the acrylic glass separating both rooms. “Even if you wanted to kill me, you couldn’t do it.”

Chishiya hums, already searching for his first question. Assumed the player isn’t smart enough to answer the questions on their own, they’d need both of them to survive. But neither of them is a normal player.

“Year of death of Japan’s third prime minister…” he reads the first card aloud, although just as he predicted, he doesn’t need Arisu to help him. “Sanjou Sanetomi died… 1891.”

As soon as he enters the year into the lock, one small light bulb activates in green right above it. There’s a total of five lights that need to be activated in case to open the door, and Arisu watches just witch as much interest.

“I see! Although I wonder what would happen if we entered a wrong code.”

“Feel free to try it out”, Chishiya smirks while searching for the next card. Arisu does the same, not at all intimidated by Chishiya’s egoistic approach. The truth is that Chishiya would help him with an answer if the boy couldn’t do it himself, but he doesn’t see a need to worry.

Arisu has found his first card as well, a bright blue one. “It’s asking for the 21th digit of the Fibonacci sequence. Oof, what was it again?”

Neither of them begins to search for the answer, since both start to calculate in their heads. This is something Chishiya doesn’t always have memorized, but he knows how the sequence works and how to find the wanted number. Only that this time, Arisu is actually a second faster than him and already heading to the number pad when Chishiya finally has the right number on hand. 6765, and a green light activates on Arisu’s side as well.

They go on like this, either answering their questions themselves or challenging the other to see who finds the answer quicker. Their time limit is long enough to have a bit of fun, and only half of it has run out when the last lamp turns green on Chishiya’s side. Arisu has still one more to go and is lazily roaming through a shelf until he pulls out a yellow card. Chishiya expects another easy question, but the frown appearing on the boy’s forehead tells him otherwise.

He’s already heading to the exit when Arisu faces the window. “Hey, Chishiya… uh… I don’t think I can solve this one.”

The question is pressed against the window so Chishiya can read it. It is a hard equation, possible to solve but it’d take lots of time. How easy it would be for Chishiya to simply leave the game since his door is already open. He wouldn’t have to care for Arisu, wouldn’t need to waste his time to help the boy.

“I could easily have you killed now”, Chishiya smirks.

But his life isn’t at stake if he does. The timer has still enough time and he has to wait for the car anyway. Besides… future games would be pretty boring without Arisu, and the lack of good conversation wouldn’t be worth the bit of extra time.

He wouldn’t sacrifice his life for someone else’s, no. As long as he doesn’t have to risk anything however, there’s nothing wrong with helping a friend.

The answers are hidden better than the questions, not written onto cards but onto pieces of furniture. Chishiya finds a code on the pack of a family photo and the other embroidered onto the edge of a pillow, and there’s one code written onto the bottom of a flower vase where he has to pour out the water first. This code has definitely not been used yet, and as he roughly calculates the equation, he’s sure that it must be the answer.

Without unnecessary words, he passes the code to Arisu, whose door opens immediately after, allowing them both to step out into the hallway with their phones announcing game clear.

Arisu pats his shoulder, eyes huge and smiling like a naïve little puppy. An extremely intelligent naïve puppy, in that case. “I knew I could trust you. Thanks for that!”

Maybe one day, Chishiya will tell him about his original plans involving Arisu as a throwaway bait. For now, he just snorts. “You shouldn’t.”

But of course Arisu doesn’t care about his words as he strolls back to the car, a wide smile on his face as he continues to talk about them both having to compete against each other in quiz shows once they leave this world. Chishiya would win, of course – although it would be a good battle.

[blossom-hwa]

Light the Pyres |Strike| - SUNGYOON

Based off the Burn It mv? Yeah I know it was like five months ago but whatever. Writing this honestly hurt me so I’m sorry if you’re reading it <3

(But no, really. This is a heavier and bloodier story. If this isn’t for you, please don’t read!)

Pairing: Sungyoon x gender neutral!reader

Genre: angst, bits of fluff, apocalypse!au

Triggers: cursing, death, side character commits suicide (no mention of suicidal thoughts though), semi-graphic depictions of blood

Word Count: 3.8k

As the world burns its last goodbyes, you find a jewel amidst the ashes.

Strike >> Next: Light

Golden Child Masterlist

“It’s insane, isn’t it?” You pace around your dorm. “I can’t believe it went so wrong. Not to say that I ever agreed with the testing in the first place, but –”

“I know.” Your mother sighs into the phone. “Anyone would’ve thought such a project would be handled carefully, no? It’s a miracle anyone survived at all.”

You sit on the edge of your bed. “I’m just glad you’re safe,” you say. “When I heard the shaking could be felt even from home…”

She laughs, soft and gentle in a way that sends a pleasant warmth tickling down your spine. God, you love hearing your mother’s laugh. “I’m fine, Y/N.” You can almost hear the smile in her voice. “I appreciate you checking in on me, but I’m perfectly fine. We had a few tremors, that’s all. No one is hurt.”

“Yeah, I know, I know.” You smile. “I have to go to class now, but stay safe, okay? I’ll see you this winter break, I promise.”

“I’m counting the days, darling. I love you and miss you.”

“Same here, Mom.”

You press your head against the car window as Daeyeol speeds down the empty highway. It’s been months since that call, months since the test bomb failed, mutating the few who survived into flesh-eating shades of their human selves.

Of course, no one knew it then. The survivors were rushed to a nearby hospital for treatment and when they first woke up, there were no signs of abnormality besides some slightly shrunken pupils.

Then veins blackened, skin paled, and they attacked.

One infected hospital turned into an entire city. The few who managed to escape tried to spread the news, but no one believed them. Only a couple of the smallest news outlets, looking for a good scoop, related the stories of the shaking survivors of what they called a zombie apocalypse. Unbelievable, right?

Not so much when one zombie made its way into an otherwise healthy city and began biting people in full daylight.

Only a few states away, your mother was living her life when the government imposed a strict lockdown. No one was to leave their home. Certain stores would be open on certain days, and blocks would be allowed to shop at certain times. Otherwise, stay at home and do not go outside.

She called you that day and every day after until communications shut off. On the other side of the country, you panicked when your calls stopped going through, when your texts only rebounded with an “unable to send – try again” message that made you want to smash your phone against the ground.

Until several days later, in the middle of a class no one was paying attention to, she picked up.

Your professor doesn’t even blink an eye as you run out of the room, already halfway to tears. “Oh my God, Mom –”

“Darling, we don’t have time.” You can hear the cracks in her voice. “So many cities nearby have been overrun already, and we can’t use internet or even power anymore because we need to conserve. I don’t know how your call managed to go through.”

“I thought you were dead.” You slide to the floor, back pressed against the wall as you try hard not to cry. “Mom, I –”

“No, I’m alive.” She laughs, but there’s a frightened edge to it that you’ve never heard before. It feels like being doused with cold water, horrible – your mother, the woman who raised you so fearlessly in the wake of her husband’s death, is scared.

You can barely comprehend it.

“I’m alive, Y/N.” A tiny sniffle on the other end. “I just want you to know that I love you very much. I always will.”

“I love you too, Mom.” A tear trickles down your face. “I love you. I’m going to come for you, okay? I’ll come. Don’t go anywhere. I’ll come for you.”

No reply. You look down at your phone, only to realize the call’s disconnected with no way for you to know how much your mother heard of your last words.

You haven’t been able to call her since, not with her power completely cut off and your university going on lockdown just a couple of weeks later. But it doesn’t matter. When rumors that a wave of flesh-eating non-humans was going to hit your city soon, you rented a car with Daeyeol and set off for home, driving in a direction from where no zombies had come.

You’re pretty sure the rental owner knew you had no intention of returning the car, judging from the thin press of his lips as you handed over your card. He softened, though, when you slid into the driver’s seat. “Good luck,” he’d said.

That bit of luck seems to have paid off. After weeks of alternately walking and driving, weeks of crippling paranoia and sudden attacks, neither you nor Daeyeol has been bitten. You might be dehydrated, half-starved, and ready to collapse at any given moment, but at least you have no shrunken pupils, no blackened veins, and no hunger for flesh.

Daeyeol’s voice cuts through the car tires jostling on the road. “All right?”

“Mm.” You nod slightly, head still pressed against the window. A tiny smirk widens your cracked lips. “Still alive.”

It’s morbid. So many people you know or knew have died, probably more than you realize, so it maybe isn’t the best move to joke about being alive. But it makes Daeyeol smile, even if it’s more of a smirk than a real smile, and after everything that’s happened, you both need a reason to laugh every so often.

“Same here,” he says, words cracking slightly with disuse. His voice used to be smooth, sweet with his singer’s tones, but it’s all faded over days and weeks of silence.

Don’t exactly want to attract a horde of zombies for the sake of a bit of song.

His voice breaks you out of depressing thoughts again. “Get some sleep,” he says, glancing over. “We’ll stop at sundown.”

“Cool.” You stretch slightly, yawning. “I guess I’ll drive through the night?”

“If we don’t break down by then.” As if on cue, the motor sputters, nearly launching you forward, but thankfully, the car doesn’t stop just yet. Daeyeol sighs. “Halfway there,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you.

“Halfway there,” you echo as another faded highway sign flashes past. After nearly two months of travel, you’re over halfway home.

You let that thought comfort you into an uneasy sleep.

. . . . .

“Shit.”

You wake up to Daeyeol’s curse and the sputtering sound of the engine. He’s gone off the highway since you fell asleep, now trying to start the choking car on a street in what looks like it used to be a city. As you blink the sleep out of your eyes, he presses down on the accelerator, hard. The car jerks forward for a second, then stops.

Daeyeol groans. “We didn’t even make it to sundown.”

Sure enough, the sun still hasn’t fallen. From the beat up watch on your wrist, you estimate an hour or so before dark. Probably enough time to try and take a crack at fixing the engine or whatever’s gone wrong with the car.

“I’ll take a look.” You rub your eyes. “See if it’s something I can fix. Stay close, I might need your help.”

After years of growing up beside your mechanic mother, mechanical engineering was a no-brainer when you entered university. Since then, your technical skills have grown a little rusty when it comes to repairing cars (hey, not a lot of people drove around your college town), but in the months after the explosion, you’ve had to relearn those skills fast.

You don’t dare roll up your sleeves, not even in the heat of the afternoon sun and the warmth radiating off the engine. If a zombie comes out of nowhere, your layers are the only chance of surviving a bite. 

Wincing at the memory of your first close call, you start poking around the engine. It isn’t smoking, which is good, but something rattles when you tap at it with a wrench.

Great.

Sweat pours down your face as you fiddle around with the engine. A few bolts are loose – how you didn’t notice when you first took the car, you don’t know – but you tighten them carefully as the sun sinks lower in the sky. “Hopefully that’s it,” you mutter before pulling the hood down. Even in such an empty place, the small thunk makes you flinch, looking around for zombies to come pouring out of nowhere.

Nothing happens. You sigh in relief, plucking the keys from Daeyeol’s hand. “Let’s see if it works.”

It does. After an initial sputtering, the car moves forward. Reflexes keep your mouth shut before you can whoop, but you settle for a satisfied sigh as you beckon Daeyeol into the car, his eyes smiling in a way that’s become rare in the past month.

Then –

A shout.

A bang.

You freeze, one hand on the wheel.

Gunshots.

Daeyeol’s already opening his door, eyes wide with worry as someone screams and the familiar sound of dead groaning fills the air. “Come on,” he says, his tone booking no room for argument. “Let’s go.”

He’s too kind. Too selfless. As you run behind him, pulling out the gun holstered at your own waist, you try to push down the urge to drag him back to the car and just drive away from the growing screams and groans.

But Daeyeol is your best friend, one of your two last anchors to his barren earth. You may not have the same selfless streak that he does, but you’ll follow him into danger and watch his back if it’s the last thing you do.

Someone like Daeyeol deserves that much and more.

Following the noise, you sprint between two buildings, tall and dirty and abandoned. Broken glass crunches under your feet as you turn a corner –

And come face to face with black veins and white faces, pupils shrunken in death.

Whirling away from bloody, grasping hands, you club the first zombie over the head with the butt of your gun. It falls. Bang. Dead. You twist around the mass of stilted limbs and race after Daeyeol, yelling for him to slow down as you run into the fray.

Bang. Bang bang bang. Gunshots lead you into a space between four buildings where the ground opens up to reveal what probably was a subway. A horde of zombies claws at a tall bus stranded in the square, a lone man standing on top.

Him. Your eyes zero in on the tall figure, gun in hand that he aims at the zombies. There are too many, though, even if there don’t seem to be more coming.

Daeyeol scrambles on top of an abandoned car. You quickly follow. The man hasn’t caught sight of you just yet, still focused on avoiding zombies that get too close. There’s only a matter of time before they sense your presence and start chasing you instead.

Think. Think!

“You pick them off,” you gasp. “Pick them off from here.”

He nods. “Watch the back. Help me if I run out.”

You turn around. Back to back, you raise your guns, aim, and begin to fire.

Your gunshots and the allure of more meat turn deadened eyes and bloody mouths your way. Trampling over their shot companions, they lurch over to your car, stumbler closer even as you pick them away.

One. Two. Three. Each of your last thirteen bullets has to make a difference. Gritting your teeth against the smell of rotting flesh that still makes you gag even after so many weeks on the road, you shoot down another zombie that’s gotten too close and lock eyes with the man still standing on the bus roof.

The horde has thinned. The groaning has decreased. Zombies still claw at the roof, but if he jumps far enough and runs fast enough, he’ll make it.

“JUMP!” you scream, another bullet embedding itself into a head caked in dried blood. Three bullets left. “NOW!”

An uncertain glance. Daeyeol shoots away another clawing hand and glares at his still figure. “JUMP!”

He jumps.

Lands.

Pitches onto the ground.

Not far enough.

Zombies lurch forward, rotting arms reaching for the man who’s still scrambling to stand. You want to scream. He isn’t going to make it, all of this was for nothing, you’ve wasted ten bullets – eleven, now, as another tears into a zombie head – on a rescue mission that’s going to fail –

Daeyeol jumps down from the car and fires a last shot that goes haywire before grabbing the man and literally dragging him forward, narrowly missing a lurching zombie.

“DAEYEOL!” You jump from the car, kicking away a clawing hand. “YOU FUCKING IDIOT –”

He begins to turn, helping the man stumble forward. Something’s happened to his leg. Your eyebrows furrow – God, you’re going to have words with Daeyeol about putting himself in unnecessary danger when you all are out of this – as you grab at one of the stranger’s arms, dragging him across the bloody square.

All facing the same direction, none of you notice several leftover zombies creeping up from behind.

Daeyeol yells. His hand releases the stranger’s wrist and you watch in disbelief as skeletal, bloody hands drag him backward.

You scream. Fingers fumble for your gun that still has two rounds left, two rounds, more than enough –

But Daeyeol is already staring in disbelief at the blood seeping through a prominent bite mark on the top of his arm that’s beginning to turn black.

No.

No.

No!

Letting go of the stranger with a shriek, you raise both hands and shoot away the zombie still hanging onto Daeyeol’s shoulder. But you have only one bullet left in your gun and there are several zombies lurching towards you and it doesn’t even matter because Daeyeol’s been bitten, you’ve made it halfway home already and he’s been bitten –

Disbelieving eyes meet yours. Something crumbles in his expression and in his gaze you see everything – pain, horror, care, love, determination, resolve.

“Go,” he chokes, stepping backward directly into the path of the remaining undead. “Go!”

Tears blur your vision. “Daeyeol –”

“TAKE HIM AND GO!”

Dimly, you register a hand closing around your trembling wrist, dragging you back, away from your best friend of over twenty years, away from one of your last anchors to life. Gunshots tear through the air and you blink in time to see two of the zombies fall, Daeyeol gritting his teeth as he pulls the trigger on his gun again. And again.

He locks eyes with you once more. His gaze shines with twenty years of friendship and memories as he steps backward over and over, luring the last zombies away.

His instructions pound through your head. Go. Go. Take him and go.

Take him and go!

Your mind screams to stay but your body turns traitor, latching onto the stranger’s arm and stumbling between buildings, back in the direction of the car. He doesn’t move fast but you drag him along, shoes crunching glass and bricks and dried blood.

Something turns your head back in time for the last shot. It doesn’t split a zombie’s skull.

Instead, you watch the muzzle of Daeyeol’s gun fall away from his temple as he collapses to the ground.

Dead.

Dead. Dead. Your best friend is dead. Dead. Dead. Daeyeol is dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead dead dead dead your best friend is dead dead dead Daeyeol’s dead dead dead he’s dead dead dead dead dead he’s DEAD HE’S DEAD –

With a burst of strength you didn’t know you had, you haul the stranger forward to the car still parked on the street. Tossing open the passenger door, you shove him in, then throw yourself into the driver’s seat.

You jam the key into the ignition, turn it and hear the engine sputter to life. Instinct alone moves your limbs, foot pressing down on the gas, hands clenching the wheel so hard your knuckles burn.

Tears stream down your face as you drive into the setting sun.

. . . . .

The car dies ten miles down the road. Far enough to escape straggling zombies.

Not far enough to escape bloody memories.

You curse loudly, slamming a hand on the steering wheel as if it’ll do anything (it won’t. You don’t need two degrees in mechanical engineering to have that measure of common fucking sense). Next to you, the boy remains quiet, barely looking over as you hit the wheel again. And again.

It doesn’t bring Daeyeol back.

Still, you give the steering wheel one more whack before throwing open the car door to kick the vehicle in the side once. Twice.

“Don’t injure yourself.”

Ah. So he speaks. Mystery boy’s voice is a little higher than you expected. If you’d met him before the apocalypse, you might even say it was smooth. Nice. Like a singer’s.

Like Daeyeol’s.

You kick the car a third time, insides writhing.

And you hate it.

It’s irrational, of course, fully irrational. He hasn’t done anything to earn your anger. It’s probably not his fault he got cornered by a horde of zombies. It definitely isn’t his fault Daeyeol has – had – Jesus Christ, you can’t think of him in the past tense, your knees are already going wobbly and the tears are coming again – a stupid selfless streak that ultimately got him killed –

But how dare he speak. How dare he use his voice to warn you not to injure yourself when Daeyeol is the one who should be sitting there saying that. Daeyeol should be the one telling you to take care of yourself when the anger, the stress, the sheer enormity of the world and your own insignificance in the grand scheme of the universe start getting to your head.

If this boy hadn’t been in trouble, Daeyeol would still be here. He’d be here, alive, and though you’d still be stuck ten miles down the fucking road, at least he wouldn’t be dead. Dead because he sacrificed himself for a guy caught in the middle of a zombie horde on top of a fucking bus whom neither of you even knows.

With the last of your strength, you slam the car door shut before you say something you’ll regret. Sinking down on the dirty, empty highway, you close your eyes and take a shuddering breath.

You don’t cry. You just sit there, eyes staring into the darkness of your closed lids. There’s no telling how much time passes until a car door opens and shuts.

There’s a soft grunt. A gasp of pain. Then a presence settles itself on your side of the car, hovering over your still body.

Your fists clench. Unclench. It’s not his fault. Not his fault. Not his fault, not his fault, not his fault –

You open your eyes to stare flatly at the boy standing over you. “Yes?”

He flinches. It must have come out more accusatory than you wanted. You don’t do anything, though, only stare as he keeps standing, leg shifting awkwardly.

Not shifting. You lower your gaze, narrowing your eyes at his trembling limbs. Your mind flashes back to him jumping off the bus, the noise with which he landed, the way he was limping slightly as first Daeyeol, then you dragged him away.

He’s injured. No bones broken since he can still support his weight, but maybe a fracture. Something you don’t have the capacity to heal with anything but time.

Time that you don’t have.

“I…” He swallows. “I wanted to thank you. For helping – saving me.”

For some reason, that rubs you the wrong way.

“Don’t thank me.” Your voice slices the air, bitterly caustic. “Thank my friend. He’s the one who wanted to help.” You look away. “You know, the one who’s dead.”

He flinches again, hard enough to stumble backward. Only the car keeps him from falling over. A pang of guilt hits at your sharp words, but anger and grief for Daeyeol keep it at bay. “You can stay the night,” you say, still averting your gaze. “Take the backseat. Not like I’ll be driving any fucking further.” You stand and kick the car again, this time leaving a dent in the rusty metal. “Gonna have to go back to walking…”

Walking.

Your mouth goes dry.

This is the first time you’ll be walking alone. No Daeyeol to watch your back, no knowledge that someone who’s known you for over twenty years will be at your side. That’s gone, all of it. Gone with his death.

The thought ices your veins. You just want to curl into a ball and cry. But that’s not an option, not with this mystery boy enclosed in the same space as you, so you just throw open the door and slide back inside. He follows a little more cautiously, gingerly entering the car and closing his door softly before sitting in the back.

You sigh. “Close it fully.”

He blinks up at you in the grimy rearview mirror.

“Close the door fully,” you snap. “If a zombie manages to get in because you didn’t close it properly, we’re both fucked.”

It stings a little to be so rude, especially when he only opens the door again like you said and shuts it with more force. But nothing changes the fact that Daeyeol died for him, a person he didn’t even know, and that this boy is the reason why Daeyeol isn’t sitting next to you in the passenger seat, his silent, familiar presence comforting you into sleep.

A tear blinks out of your closed eyes. Why? you want to scream. Why did he do it? Why did he always want to help everybody, even if he knew it might come at the cost of his own life?

You know the answer. Humanity. Daeyeol told you every time you asked, every time you had another brush with death to save anyone you could. He had to keep faith, had to believe that there was something, anything he could do to alleviate some of the pain brought on by this tragedy.

It’s why you always admired him, were so loyal to him from the day you two first became friends in elementary school. Daeyeol always believed in strength that comes from kindness, believed in helping those who couldn’t always help themselves. It’s why you always followed him into the fight, regardless of how much you wanted to shove him back in the car and just drive away.

Bitterness lodges in a lump in your throat.

So much for humanity when all that kindness just got him killed.

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 prayer for Daeyeol’s soul :/)

[borhap-au]

Joe Mazzello - the fluffy chronicles.

Only an assistant. 

It was really weird for you, how often Joe came around you when you were on set. You were working together for a few weeks. He was the star of the movie, while you were an assistant of an assistant, with your basic work requirements being “Hey, Y/N, bring me…” So you could never understand why he would even want to hang out with someone like you, since you were sure that to him, you must be nobody.

“Hey, will you join us for lunch?” he smiled at you one day and you looked at him confused.

“Me? Why?” you were used to sitting away from people, all alone, until somebody asked you to do something.

“Well, because we would all appreciate your company,” you couldn’t help but notice how beautiful his smile was.

“We, meaning who exactly?” he mentioned a few names, most of them actors in this movie. “Why, so you can make fun of me?” he looked at you surprised, not believing what he’s just heard. “Cause that’s why you’re doing it, right? You have like a bet, who brings the biggest loser to the table? Why did you single me out? I was always nice to you, was that not enough?” He looked at you almost in shock.

“You really think I would ask you to sit with us to make fun of you? No, I wanted you to join us, maybe meet some new people. I’ve noticed you’re usually alone, so I thought it wouldn’t hurt to meet someone new,” he explained, and you, of course, got offensive.

“Oh, so I’m a loser after all, huh? Someone you need to help because I’m not capable of doing basic human things, like finding myself a friend? Don’t worry, I refuse to be your charity case so you can go on without worrying about me now.”

“What did I do to you? Why are you mad at me? If I offended you, I’m sorry. I never meant to do that. All I wanted was to be nice and friendly,” he explained. “I promise.”

You didn’t look at him, you were visibly mad. He sighed.

“I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean it to sound bad. I just wanted you to join us, well, join me, because I like you and I enjoy your company. But I didn’t really know how to be straight-forward with it, so I asked to join our table instead. Sorry, I really didn’t want to make a fool out of myself.”

“You wanted me to join you?” you looked at him, not quite sure what he meant. What someone so amazing could’ve wanted to do with you, you wondered.

“I wanted to ask you out,” he knew he had to finally be open about it, because otherwise it would just lead to more misunderstandings. “But at first I wanted to test if you even enjoy my company enough to say yes, that’s why I wanted you to join me at lunch. So we could have a real conversation.”

“So ask me out. Don’t force me to spend time with people that don’t want me there. Let’s go out, together, and try things out on our own,” you suggested. He liked the idea, so he nodded, smiling.

“Yeah, I’d like that. So, are you free on Saturday? We’d go to a restaurant. That is, if you want to, of course,” he smiled, still a little shy and unsure.

“And you really want this? Like… not to just make fun of some random nobody?” you asked, disbelieving. You thought there were hidden cameras around you and he will soon tell you it was all just a prank.

“You’re not a nobody,” he said immediately, defending you from yourself. “You’re smart and funny.”

“And I work as an errand girl. Such a prestigious position…,” you said ironically.

“So what? Your job doesn’t define you. Everyone started somewhere. Neither I nor anyone I respect judges people based on their job. Everybody has to earn a living somehow. And I’m sure that thanks to your job, you met more fun people than I did,” he gave you a big smile.

“Well, yeah… You,” you smiled shyly. “I would like to go out with you, if you really want us to. I’m sure it’ll be fun.”

And it was fun. He took you to a very fancy restaurant in that part of the city you didn’t even go to. Of course he told you beforehand that it will be one of those restaurants that expects elegant clothes, so you came prepared. You both, without consulting each other, ordered the same thing, so food was your first topic. It turned out, you had a lot in common. From then on, your conversation went smoothly, and he was able to make you laugh easily.

“You really thought I wanted to make fun of you?” he asked finally, looking at you. You looked down.

“I didn’t want to believe it myself, because you were always nice and I didn’t think you were really an asshole, but… A lot of people make fun of me because of how insignificant my job is. I guess it came out of my insecurities and frustrations. I’m sorry you had to be the innocent victim,” you muttered and looked at him. He was smiling comfortingly.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m not mad or anything. I just wanted to know whether I gave you a reason to think of me this way.”

“No, never,” you shook your head. “I was just hurt too many times I guess. It’s hard for me to trust people.” You smiled apologetically.

“I’m sorry to hear that you were hurt. But you don’t have to worry around me. I have no intention to hurt you. I really like you. And about those people who make fun of you because of your job – it’s the lowest of the low. Like literally, a job is a job and nobody should be judged for how they make money, unless they sell drugs or do other illegal business. And you actually have a cool job. You get to meet many interesting people and travel all around the world. Many people dream of a job like that. I mean it.”

“I don’t think anyone dreams of it, honestly…”

“I disagree. There are people who are introverts, who don’t want to be in the spotlight, but at the same time, they would like to have a chance to meet their favorite actor. So it’s a perfect job for many. Trust me, many people look at you and think you’re lucky. Even the people who said nasty things to you. The reason is always jealousy and their own insecurity. Happy people don’t put other people down,” he smiled at you and you actually believed him this time. You had to admit, he was right. “I know it’s easy to say, ‘don’t worry about those people.’ I know it’s not easy to actually stop caring. But the sooner you accept that they are in fact unhappy with their lives, so in turn, they want to bring other people down, the sooner you be much happier. You’re not the reason why they spread hate, they are. There’s nothing wrong with you and there’s a lot wrong with them.”

“That’s sweet of you to say. Thank you,” you smiled and he smiled back at you. “That’s how you deal with hate? Remember that it’s not your fault, but theirs?”

“Yeah. I know that many people wish to be in the position I’m in, to work with the people I worked with. So if they send me hate, I simply pity them for they have no life apart from jealousy. But if they hate on my fans, I have to react. It’s a different story. I can handle hate. But I won’t accept someone bringing my base down because they like me. It’s a really shitty thing to do. So I have to assure them they’re amazing and the haters are too sad and lonely to find actual friends so they only connect with other haters. Plain and simple.”

“Oh, yeah, I absolutely despise people who make fun of others because they like something else and they’re passionate about it. Like, there is no ‘superior music taste’ that makes you better than people listening to other genres. Or liking different movies. They are all made for the audiences to enjoy it, so if you enjoyed it, good for you. I could never understand how people say others are uneducated or uncultured because they liked something that the person didn’t like. Can we just all enjoy artists’ work in peace? We should only connect over what we like, not how much we hate others who like something we hate. It doesn’t even make sense.”

“I agree. So you understand it yourself, hate doesn’t make any sense,” he smiled and you nodded. “Imagine having nothing better to do than to spread hate. How sad is that?”

“Extremely sad…” you looked at him. “Thanks, Joe. You made me feel better.”

“That’s why I’m here,” he reassured you. “So, dessert?” he smiled and you took a menu.

“Always.”

[agent-cupcake]

Hey AC! I love your blog and was wondering if I could get your opinion on something. I've seen some people complaining that Ingrid and Hilda are treated by the fandom, with Ingrid stans saying that Hilda is also racist towards Almyrans (which, granted, she is) but doesn't get nearly as much hate about it as Ingrid does. But personally I feel like their attitudes and the way they react towards Dedue/Cyril are wildly different and Hilda generally seems less hateful/irrational about it. Thoughts?

This is... kind of a touchy topic... I like it though! It’s worth discussing, especially since I feel like it’s broke criticism to simply deflect blame onto a character in order to prop up another.  Full and obvious disclosure: I very much dislike Ingrid and very much love Hilda. That said, I don’t think it’s fair to compare them for the sake of which is worse. I fall into the trap of character criticism through comparison far too often and it's not really valid unless you can fully explore each character in their own right beforehand. Which is why, while writing this, I came to the conclusion that the ways these two characters are interpreted and the reason people view their racist tendencies differently has far more to do with the characters themselves than their actual beliefs.

From first impressions to subsequent playthroughs, this is pretty much how I feel about Ingrid: she brings up her hatred of the Duscur people and Dedue unprompted and uncontested several times at the very beginning of the game, putting it front and center to her character. This is important, it sets a foundational component for how I could come to view her. According to her introduction, she is honorable and respectful, a model lady knight trope. But, as mentioned, she's really racist. Literally standing around thinking about how awful it is that Dimitri would trust a man of Duscur because they are all bad people. Yikes. And nobody calls her on it. Again, this is very important for perception. People judge Sylvain for his bad behavior in a much more harsh way than they do Ingrid for her vitriolic loathing for another classmate who we have seen as nothing but respectful. It's weird. And then, despite the fact that her close friend Sylvain was able to reason out that it’s not possible for the Duscur people to be at fault for the Tragedy, despite the fact that the prince of the country she supposedly hopes to serve with unwavering respect and loyalty has made it clear that he does not believe that Dedue or Duscar are responsible for the Tragedy, and despite the fact that Dimitri, her close friend and the one most affected by the Tragedy (seriously, she lost a guy she might have married and he lost his best friend, mother, and watched his father be killed in front of his eyes) continuously insists that neither Dedue nor Duscur are at fault, she loudly and openly believes that the ensuing massacre of Duscur was deserved and Dedue is inherently culpable simply because of his race. Her motivations for this hatred feel even more cheap considering her dogged hero worship for Glenn was born out of the fact that she was promised to him, making the fact that she’d use his death as reason enough for the destruction of countless innocent lives even more unsympathetic in my eyes. I mean, seriously, she was around 13 and he was older than her, how close could they have truly been? Dimitri says they were in love, but she was a child. Abandoning my modern sensibilities about age of consent or whatever, kids at that age don't have the emotional or mental capability. Maybe this is just nitpicking, but I have a very hard time caring about that relationship. But, if her actual justification is because of what happened to Faerghus as a result of the Tragedy and feels duty-bound as a knight to find justice through the systematic destruction of the Duscur people, then it just circles back to confusion considering the future leader of said country doesn't hold Duscur or Dedue responsible. The importance of perception comes in because despite these paper thin excuses and her seemingly willfully ignorant hatred, she is never challenged on her racist beliefs. The reason she seems to change her mind about Dedue and consider that maybe excusing a genocide is wrong stems from guilt that Dedue continuously comes to her aid in battle at the potential cost of his own life. I can understand, to a certain extent, why she might feel the way she does. But, again, I have such a hard time with any justification when nobody that she's close to is even nearly as hateful as her, there is plenty of evidence (evidence that the people close to her have found!) to provide a very reasonable counterclaim to Duscur's guilt, and that none of that even matters when it would require her to openly contradict the prince of her country to make the claim that Dedue was in any way complicit in the Tragedy. Which would be fine if she wasn't established as the model Lady Knight archetype, which also brings us into Ingrid's moral high horse. Admittedly, I hate the Lady Knight trope. I have a significant bias against these types of characters. However, I really do think that this moral crusade is where she lost me completely. Without even a shred of empathy or self awareness, she lectures Sylvain about his shitty behavior even though their circumstances are at least somewhat similar and he has his reasons (bad ones, maybe, but ones worth understanding if she actually cares about him), she lectures Felix about not being interested in knightly endeavors (an aspect of his character that is born of the trauma she has appropriated), and she lectures Claude about behavior that is befitting of a man in his position. Not because she cares about the girls Sylvain is hurting, not because she thinks there are any grave stakes from Felix choosing to do his own thing, and not because she knows that Claude's behavior affects his ability to lead, but because she doesn't like these behaviors and thinks they should be fixed. Yet, at the same time, she believes Dedue deserved to lose his family, country, and culture based on his birth and nobody ever does anything to morally correct her, it is something she eventually is forced to acknowledge on her own. It's frustrating, infuriating even, that the game lets her get away with being so grossly hypocritical. And, all the while, she is being painted as sympathetic. Again, I have a hard time feeling sympathy for her about Glenn, and I certainty don't feel sympathetic towards her issues about marriage because there's never any actual tension there. Of course she won't be forced to marry, she's a Lady Knight. Beyond being unsympathetic, I also find her massively unlikable. Awful design, poor voice direction, food-loving-as-a-personality-trait, the fact that she's written as one of those stock "feminist" characters who hate makeup and girly things until it benefits them, and constantly butting in on other characters to give her opinion without taking any criticism herself are all aspects that I just personally dislike. Ultimately, Ingrid being racist is only a symptom of the many reasons her character is one of my least favorites. Most of these points can be countered by someone who doesn't take issue with the things that annoy me and to point out that Ingrid DOES get over her racist beliefs. It's not fair to say that she doesn't change but, for me, the damage was already done by the time she became tolerable so I still have a hard time appreciating her. My assumption would be that there are a lot of other people who feel similarly to me regarding their dislike of Ingrid so they focus on one easy character flaw, her being racist at the beginning of the game, as a reason to validate their dislike of her overall.

On the other hand, Hilda's racism isn't a main trait of her character. It's related to her overarching character flaws, but she doesn't bring it up unprompted and can actually be pretty much missed without the Cyrill supports. Like you said, Hilda does seem less hateful and irrational, it doesn't take willful malice and an active rejection of reason for Hilda to dislike the Almyrans, they pose a genuine and provable threat to her family and territory, seemingly senselessly testing the borders and throwing away lives for the sake of conquest. To be clear, her "you're not like those OTHER Almyrans" schtick is legitimately nasty. Her behavior is gross and condescending and it really underscores the fact that Hilda is ignorant, lazy, inconsiderate, and incredibly comfortable in her privilege. She accepts what she's been told at face value because she's too lazy to look into it further. Cyrill does tell her she's stupid to think that way, though. Which is satisfying because Hilda in those supports is insufferable, it really highlights the worst aspects of her character, dismissive, manipulative, and very selfish. However, for me, she's also very likeable. I'm not interested in going over my opinions on her like I did with Ingrid as I don’t feel it’s as important to my point but a few reasons I really like her is because I think Hilda has a fantastic design, cute supports, amazing voice work, and is secretly sweet in a way that absolutely tickles my fancy. I am sure many people do not agree with me, which is fine. Additionally, just as Ingrid grows out of her racist beliefs, so does Hilda. They both end the game as more tolerant and caring people. Still, for the same reason a person could argue that Ingrid is actually great and I'm being unfair, they could argue that Hilda is terrible and I'm too biased. That's fair and true..... but I think the fact that Hilda is more generally appealing in conjunction with the less obvious nature of her racist attitude makes people less likely to dismiss her as a racist in the same way they do Ingrid. Unless they dislike Hilda, in which case, it’s all fair game.

Anyyyways, a main takeaway from this is that I highly doubt people are truly arguing on the individual basis of who's more racist, but that they're engaging in the age old waifu war. As with many characters in this game, it's easier to argue moral superiority when you can't quite articulate what you like or don't like about a character. Or, even worse, when you're arguing opinion. Even now, as is clear by reading this, I am arguing my opinion of why I don't like Ingrid. Not because she's racist, but because of the character traits and writing choices that make her unlikable to me. I like Hilda because, flaws and all, I find her to be compelling and enjoyable. From the people that I know, at least, that is basically how the Ingrid stans v Hilda racism argument is structured, even if they dress it up in different language.

By the by Hilda never talks about how the Almyrans deserve to be wiped out. I think that probably sours a lot of people's opinions of Ingrid no matter what happened afterward but that’s fine we can just pretend that didn’t happen

[zelenacat]

When We Were Young- Chapter 28- An Obitine Story (almost content warning?)

Satine was overjoyed and terrified when she heard the news. She was sitting in a meeting with the Ruling Council when Obi-Wan called.

“Satine?”

The Duchess stood and excused herself.

“Mara and Tristan are safe,” Obi-Wan began calmly, “and-”

“Korkie?”

“They were holding him on a different planet, a Separatist World.”

Satine dropped the comm.

“Your Grace?”

“Parna,” Satine turned, “tell the Ruling Council that Tristan Wren and Mara Supreis have been saved.”

There were tears of joy from Ursa Wren, and congratulations for the safety of Parna’s niece.

“And the Duke of Sundari?”

Satine hadn’t realized she’d been staring at the wall, so she picked up her broken comm and returned to the council chamber.

“My apologies, Your Grace.” Count Awuad offered.

It was evident on her face then, Korkie had not been rescued.

“My,” Satine swallowed, “my Korkie, they’re holding him on a Seperatist world.”

“Where?” The Duchess let her eyes fall to the comm in her hand.

“Oh, Satine,” Ursa stood, “I’m so sorry.” 

“If Mandalore’s heir is not returned alive-”

“Silence,” Satine bellowed, “he will be.”

“Your Grace,” Countess Bralor continued, “you will likely need to produce an heir.”

Satine would’ve told them then and there, if Parna had not interjected and offered to fix her comm.

“Yes, thank you, Parna.”

“It would benefit Dooku if the Duke dies,” Countess Saxon ventured, “you have-”

“I could never marry the Count after this.” Satine countered.

“We should think about possible suitors,” Countess Eldar advised, “and the engagement should be officially broken off.”

“I agree.” Prime Minister Djarin added, as if Satine would disagree with the notion.

“We’ll set up a press conference, when the Duke of Sundari has been returned,” Satine decided, “in the meantime, I think we should all keep an eye on the news.”

“The-”

“Breaking,” Count Awuad’s comm beeped, “the mystery Sith Lord has been found!”

Countess Bralor raised an eyebrow. So did Satine.

“If the Jedi have their hands full,” Count Mudhorn frowned, “then what do we do about the Duke?”

“Perhaps if we help Death Watch, they will help us.” Satine suggested.

After the meeting, Satine was on her way to find Parna when Countess Bralor and Countess Saxon stopped her.

“A word, please, Your Grace?”

“Of course.”

A Countess walked on either side of the Duchess, looping their arms through hers.

“We have heard a rumor that may interest you,” Countess Bralor began, “it is about the line of succession.”

“Oh?”

“The Vizsla Clan and many in the underworld believe,” Countess Saxon interjected, “that you have children, and that they were the four teenagers taken by Darth Maul.”

Satine opened her mouth to defend herself.

“We are neither agreeing nor denying this rumor,” Countess Bralor continued, “but it is very dangerous.”

“I agree,” Satine nodded, “are there any other pieces to this rumor?”

“Some say,” Countess Saxon added, “that their father is none other than Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

The Duchess gasped at that.

“This rumor has much credence to it,” Countess Bralor frowned, “there are no adoption records for Tristan Wren, Mara Supreis doesn’t have her adoptive father’s coloring, and the Duke-”

“Ridiculous.” Satine growled.

“We are only warning you, Duchess,” Countess Saxon held up her hands, “times have changed since Queen Mara’s time.”

Satine nodded, “Thank you.”

Parna had fixed her comm, and the first call Satine made on it was to her sister.

“How can I help?” Bo-Katan asked.

“It’s you I’m worried about,” Satine frowned, “and these rumors.”

“You need evidence,” the warrior advised, “and I need a win.”

“What kind of a win?” the Duchess asked.

“You could always try to find out where Korkie is being hidden,” Satine offered, “prove your an opponent to worry about.”

“That’s a you problem-”

“Bo-”

“No,” the Lady shook her head, “I could never win that.”

“The Vizslas have criminal connections in the underworld, they’ve been spreading this rumor,” Satine suggested, “you could kill the contacts and stage the bodies.”

Bo-Katan looked pleased, “I like how you’ve changed sister.”

Satine squirmed, “Being a mother has made me so.”

“Ah, yes, how many was it?”

“Six.”

Bo-Katan’s eyebrows shot up.

“Bo-”

“Who would’ve thought?”

“Bo?”

“What?”

Satine opened and closed her mouth, “If I die-”

“You won’t.”

“My children, Bo,” Satine swallowed, “they’ll need help.”

Lady Bo-Katan Kryze was silent for a long time.

“Alright.”

Satine sobbed.

“Oh, ew.”

“Sorry, sorry,” the Duchess wiped her eyes, “good luck with your endeavors.”

Parna returned with Ursa Wren soon after Satine had finished her call.

“Your Grace.” the countess curtsied.

“The false DNA tests and birth certificate-” “I have them, and copies.” Ursa replied.

“Send me the copies,” Satine ordered, “we’ll release them when the rumors are written down.”

Within two days, those rumors gained footing and appeared in every Mandalorian gossip column. Fortunately for the Duchess, she was ready, two hours after Satine read the morning paper, Tristan Wren’s DNA test and birth certificate were released, as well as that of Mara Supreis. Tyra was quoted as saying the Jedi were her only family, and a statement from the Duchess herself reminded everyone that she raised her nephew out of familial love and duty.

“Such drama this will cause if it ever gets out.” Parna observed.

“It won’t,” Khaami stated, “the Duchess has done well thus far.”

Satine apprepricated that, but now she wasn’t so sure.

“Your Grace?”

Satine turned, Gorg was in his civilian clothes.

“Would you do me the honor of a final walk?” asked the foreigner guard.

The Duchess smiled, “Of course.”

They walked through the gardens, Khaami and Parna trailing at a distance.

“The said I should be the one to tell you-”

“Tell me what?” Satine wondered aloud.

Gorg smiled, “The Jedi Council commed just this morning, Korkie has been saved.”

“Oh,” Satine shook, beginning to bawl, “that is the most wonderful news.”

The former guard caught Satine as she slipped towards the floor. Her ladies ran up to her.

“Korkie is safe,” the Duchess breathed, “Korkie is safe!”

“He’s on Coruscant,” Gorg continued, “the Jedi are seeing to him.”

Parna helped Satine stand and the Duchess began to cry on her shoulder.

“Thank you, Gorg,” Khaami nodded, “we are most joyous at this news.”

“Thank you,” Gorg replied, “for all your kindness in my departure.”

The former guard kissed Satine’s hand one last time and left, then the Duchess made her way to her rooms.

“Isn’t this wonderful?” Parna smiled.

“Yes,” Satine nodded, “Khaami, please tell the Ruling Council.”

“Of course.”

Later that day, the Duchess held a short press conference to announce that the Duke of Sundari was safe.

“We don’t have all the details,” she stated, grinning, “but he is alive and healing among the safety of friends.”

Applause broke out from the reporters.

“Moreover,” Satine continued, “I would like to officially announce the dissolution of my engagement to Count Dooku.”

Cheers went up from a couple of attendants, which pleased the Duchess very much.

Satine stood, “Thank you for your time.”

That evening, the Duchess personally flew to Coruscant with Tyra to see her secret sons and daughter.

“It’s going to be okay, Lady Mother.” Tyra whispered, reaching for Satine’s hand.

“I just,” the Duchess sighed, “I can’t wait to see them.”

Inside the Jedi Temple, a line of masters were waiting to greet them. Master Secura embraced Satine and Tyra, saying they had both been so courageous.

“But so have you,” the Duchess smiled, “thank you for helping save my children.”

Master Mundi was next, and he gave a similar reception.

“Although,” he smiled, “next time you realize our children are courting, do let me know.”

Satine laughed, “Naturally.”

Master Yoda was the kindest of all, praising Tyra in his personal way and congratulating the Duchess with sincere happiness.

“Thank you, Master Jedi,” Satine curtsied, “my family is pleased to be reunited.”

“Follow me, you must,” the Jedi grinned, “to see your children and their father.”

“I would very much appreciate that.”

Mara and Tristan were sitting up in bed, each holding a bundle in their arms.

“Oh, oh, my children!”

Satine kissed each of the twins on the head, even Jynn and Lyra.

“Look how big you’ve gotten,” Satine cooed to the little ones, “do you know how brave your big brothers and sisters are?”

“Very brave indeed,” Obi-Wan walked in, “and there’s much to talk about.”

“Oh, Ben,” Satine huffed, “let them rest.”

Korkie had his arm in a sling and his face was bruised, “Mama-”

“Shh, darling,” Satine rushed over to her heir, “you must rest.”

“Mother-”

Satine grasped her son’s hand, “Yes?”

“He wants to tell you he’s happy to see you,” Tyra translated, “I can feel it in his mind.”

Satine kissed her son’s hand.

“Tell us what happened, can you?” Master Yoda asked.

“We all have different stories.” Tyra blushed.

Jynn gurgled and Satine moved to pick her up.

“Children,” the Duchess goaded, “I think you should tell Master Yoda your stories, however different they may be.”

Tyra began, telling about how she was left on Count Dooku’s ship.

“I was quite surprised when Je’er came,” Tyra swallowed, “I was surprised he cared.”

“Young Master Palpatine has been helpful,” Obi-Wan stated, “we have his father in custody, he’s quite the public speaker.”

The Duchess’ eldest daughter’s head snapped towards Tristan, “That’s not funny.”

Mara giggled, and Lyra harrumphed, Satine picked up the other twin in her arms, wondering what the children were on about. 

Obi-Wan burst forward to help, “Darling-”

Jynn raised her hands up to her father and squealed.

“Oh, look, Ben, she wants you to hold her.”

“Alright then, Jynn.”

“Tristan and I were held on Mustafar,” Mara jumped into the silence, “they wanted to study us as scientific specimens.”

“But why split you up?” Satine asked.

“To test us?” Tristan hesitated.

Tyra walked about and took Korkie’s good hand, nodding.

“They were surprised at Korkie’s ability,” her eyes watered, “they tried to get into his mind.”

The Duchess was filled with rage, her children were bruised and battered by this Sith Lord, she hated him.

“-and he thinks they were also testing Je’er.”  Tyra concluded.

Satine clenched her jaw, she would like some words with this Sith Lord.

“Tired, you must be,” Master Yoda observed, “show you to your rooms, Master Kenobi shall.”

“Thank you, Master Jedi,” Satine asked, “and will my daughters be able to stay with me?”

“Put in cribs, Senator Amidala has.”

The Duchess smiled, “I shall have to thank her.”

Her room was in the Senate rooms building, but close to the Jedi Temple. There were twin cribs, a warm bed, and a nice smelling fresher.

“Satine!”

“Oh, Padme,” the Duchess kissed both of the Senator’s cheeks, “you’ve been so kind.”

“I helped!” Anakin added, setting down a stack of towels.

Obi-Wan snorted, “I’m sure you did.”

Lyra squealed when she saw Padme and the Senator was thrilled.

“Oh, Anakin, look at her tiny fingers!” she cooed.

“Um-”

“And her little eyeses, aren’t you cute, Lyra?”

Lyra giggled.

“We’ll let you sleep,” Anakini decided, half-dragging Padme out, “the twins must be tired.”

Padme waved, “Bye-bye, babies.”

Satine made Lyra wave.

“Uh,” she sniffed, “change time.”

The Duchess made towards the fresher.

“Satine, I can do that.”

“No no,” Satine scolded, “I’m their mother, I should do this.”

It was messy, and Obi-Wan actually had to help her.

“You know,” Satine stated, “I generally left Korkie to his nanny when this happened.”

“That was my guess.” Obi-Wan agreed, setting Lyra down in her crib and picking up Jynn.

Satine was suddenly sad, “Did Tyra have a good childhood? I know Tristan had a nanny and Mara had a step-father.”

“I’m sure she did,” Obi-Wan assured, handing Satine a clean diaper, “I had a great childhood here.”

“That’s good to know,” the Duchess smiled, going misty-eyed, “I love them all so much.”

“I love them too.” Obi-Wan agreed.

Jynn went in her crib too, and Satine washed her hands.

“Ben,” Satine sensed with her back turned, “you have a question.”

“Am I staying,” Obi-Wan asked quietly, “because if you’re not-”

“Why wouldn't I be,” Satine shrugged, “Obi, we have six children.”

The Jedi gave a sheepish smile, “We do.”

“You’re staying with me for the rest of our lives.”

Obi-Wan kissed Satine, “I’m glad to hear it.”

The Duchess fell asleep very quickly cuddling with her Jedi, Obi-Wan didn’t, he listened to her breathing and thought about how lucky he was. When Satine woke up, her Jedi was meditating and the twins were resting, having woken up only once in the night.

“Morning, love.”

“Good morning, Obi,” Satine sat up, “where did Anakin leave the extra towels?”

“In a messy pile on the floor,” Obi-Wan answered, “are you interested in showering?”

“I am.”

The Jedi grinned, opening his eyes, “I’ll join you.”

Satine raised an eyebrow, “Will you?”

Obi-Wan bounced up, searching for kisses like a little puppy.

The Duchess sighed, “As long as we don’t wake the twins.”

The shower water was nice and warm, and Obi-Wan was very happy to have a moment alone with his Duchess.

“Is this,” he asked, his hands trailing her hips, “from the children?”

“Yes,” Satine nodded, hands on her stomach, “and I’m afraid so is this.”

Obi-Wan kissed his Duchess, “You’re beautiful, Satine, so beautiful.”

“Ben, please,-”

“You are,” the Jedi insisted, kissing Satine’s neck, “and we’re going to be together forever.”

Satine smiled, “Of course we are.”

One of the twins cried then, and the couple both dried off to tend to the little ones. Ben was out first, so Satine had time to dry her hair fully before dressing.

“Where’s your lady?” Obi-Wan asked, opening Satine’s bags.

“Helping stabilize Mandalore,” the Duchess answered, “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but there’s a rumor going round that the children taken belonged to us.”

Obi-Wan sighed.

“What?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Satine scoffed, “we can handle it.”

“But your people will be upset.” Obi-Wan protested.

“Not as upset as I would be if we couldn’t be together.” Satine countered.

Obi-Wan gave a wholeful smile to his Duchess.

“What?”

“I’m so glad I’m leaving the Order when the war ends.”

“Well,” Satine teased, “make sure you finish it quickly then.”

Obi-Wan was actually very helpful with Satine’s corset, which she couldn’t do up on her own. 

“Why-”

“To hide the fact that I gave birth five months ago,” Satine explained, “also, I’m not as thin as I once was.”

Obi-Wan clicked his tongue, “Oh, Satine.”

“Six children, Ben,” the Duchess wagged her finger, “I know who’s responsible.”

The Jedi laughed, “Glad to know you care, darling.”

Obi-Wan was also kind enough to help Satine into her dress and button the back.

“You do this every day?” he asked, bewildered.

“Today is a nicer dress,” Satine smiled down at her green and gold ensemble, “because I’m visiting a planet.”

“Ah.”

Obi-Wan got dressed while Satine fixed her hair, and soon enough, the day began.

“What’s happening for you today?” she asked, picking up Jynn.

“Lots of explaining to the public about what happened over the last couple days,” the Jedi answered, “and then protecting the senate from these new Seperatist attacks.”

Satine groaned, “Sounds full.”

“You?”

“I have to bring Korkie, Mara, and Tristan home,” Satine frowned, “but I have the morning to speak to senators about Mandalore’s new position.”

“Just as droll, honestly.” Obi-Wan stated, picking up Lyra.

“See you for lunch?” Satine asked hopefully.

“I’ll meet you here,” the Jedi agreed, “with food.”

Obi-Wan took the twins back to the other Jedi younglings while Satine went in search of Padme.

“Hi, Momdalore!”

“Ahsoka,” Satine smiled, “good to see you.”

“I’m supposed to accompany you around,” the Padawan clapped, “I’m so excited.”

The Duchess gave Ahsoka the side eye, “I hope you don’t mind schmoozing senators.” 

“Actually,” the Padawan winked, “I smooch Padme all the time.”

Satine laughed, “Not quite, Ahsoka.”

“So,” Ahsoka goaded in a sing-song voice, “do you have any new news, Satine?”

“No, Ahsoka,” the Duchess scolded, “no more for me.”

“Aw, but you make the cutest babies with-”

“Ahsoka!”

The Padawan burst into laughter. Satine sighed.

“You and Anakin think you’re so funny.”

“We are,” Ahsoka assured, “have you heard the story about the time my Master covered the temple in balloons for Master Yoda’s birthday?”

Satine found herself mildly amused, “Did something terrible happen?”

“Yes, terribly hilarious!”

“Then that’s all I need to know, however,” Satine grinned, “if you ever need a funny story, ask your grandmaster about the time we hid in a house of ill repute while on the run.”

Ahsoka’s eyes went wide, “No?”

“Yes.”

“Wow,” the Padawan shook her head, “you must tell the best drunk stories, Momdalore.”

“I don’t get drunk, Ahsoka.” Satine replied.

Ahsoka frowned.

“But if I did,” the Duchess winked, “someone better warn Master Kenobi.”

Ahsoka giggled.

“If I may ask,” Bail Organa approached, Padme on his arm, “what’s so funny?”

“Nothing.” the Duchess and Padawan agreed simultaneously.

“Well then,” Padme smiled, “why don’t we round up some Senators and discuss politics.”

“Why don’t we?” Satine agreed.

The Duchess was very much looking forward to lunch after hours of pleasant conversation and polite nodding, and apparently, so was Obi-Wan.

“Darling,” he opened the door for her, “do come in.”

Satine gasped. A beautiful table was set up with candles and napkins and Satine’s favorite juice which was a terribly expensive import. The curtains were drawn to give them privacy, but the Duchess had to laugh at the food.

“Dex’s Diner.” she shook her head.

“Gotta love ‘em.” Obi-Wan agreed, pulling Satine inside.

The food was actually delicious, the Duchess could not lie.

“Is this where you go after late nights of saving the galaxy?” Satine questioned.

“Uh huh,” Obi-Wan nodded, mouth full, “where do you go?”

Satine raised an eyebrow, “The palace kitchens.”

“Oh.”

The Duchess snorted.

“Careful, darling,” Obi-Wan teased, “soon you’ll lose all your manners and end up like us Jedi.”

“Oh, I could never,” Satine gestured, “I don’t have an uncivilized luminescent wand.”

The Jedi rolled his eyes, the Duchess stuffed herself with more breakfast food.

“You know,” Obi-Wan began, “our children might have uncivilized luminescent wands.”

“They will not,” Satine crossed her arms, “you’ll make sure of that.”

“Will I?”

“Yes,” the Duchess sighed, “because I have had enough of this force nonsense and I’m delegating you to oversee our children’s education in that field.”

Obi-Wan glowed, “Really?”

Satine smiled, “Yes, Ben.” 

“Uncivilized luminescent wands it is,” Obi-Wan clapped, “can I get you some more juice?”

“Please.”

They ate in happy silence before Satine burst out.

“They delayed our ship,” she grinned, “we’re not leaving till four.”

“More time together,” Obi-Wan’s eyes sparkled, “I wonder what we’ll do?”

“Obi!”

“Just saying,” the Jedi shrugged, “uncivilized wands and all.”

Satine acted horrified, “Obi-Wan Kenobi!”

“Not sorry.” the Jedi winked.

The Duchess played along, “Where do you have to be?” 

“A defense detail, but Anakin can cover for me.”

Satine raised an eyebrow, “He’ll want a reason.”

Obi-Wan clicked his tongue, “I wonder what I’ll say.”

Finishing her meal, the Duchess stood and knelt before Obi-Wan.

“Well, shall we get on with it, then?”

“Certainly,” Obi-Wan undid his robes, “but I won’t be kind.”

Satine sighed, “How chivalrous.”

[havethetimeofyourstyles]

Chapter Four. See You Soon

the scene is set in 1956, a young man moved to Hollywood to follow his dreams of becoming an actor. But with little money and a struggle to keep his apartment, he is approached by a man who offers him a job at Sweetland

a/n: when I say I cried while writing this........pls just read it for yourself.....my heart is broken, and be prepared for the angst

SERIES MASTERLIST | JOIN THE TAGLIST chapter word count: 12.8k

warnings: whole lot of angst, whole lot of smut

LETS CHAT ABOUT CN! let me know your thoughts pls!

pls rb to share! <3

It was early Wednesday morning when Harry had gotten a call on his home phone. The loud ringing startled him from his slumber, making him nearly fall out of his bed. But he quickly got up, and padded over to his phone; bare feet hitting the ground. 

“ ‘Lo?” His raspy voice was heard on his end as he didn’t even get a chance to clear it. 

“Hi, Harry. It’s Shareen,” he heard on the other end, making his eyes widen. 

“Hi, Shareen. Can you give me a second please?” Shareen chuckled and said sure as Harry covered the speakerphone before he cleared his throat numerous times and ran a hand through his hair, which he thought was ridiculous seeing as she’s through a telephone and not in front of him. “Uh, h-hello?” 

“You okay, Harry?” Shareen asked. 

“Yes, I’m doing good. How are you, Shareen?” 

“I’m lovely, thank you, dear. I just wanted to call you and let you know…”

Harry was listening to Shareen with wide eyes and excitement. It felt like he was completely dreaming. He had to pinch himself a few times to bring him back from the cloud and back to reality. He really couldn’t believe the news, but he understood every word she said. 

“Thank you so much! I’ll see you Friday,” he said excitedly, bidding Shareen a goodbye before hanging up the phone. 

Harry took a minute to process the news before he a wide smile was planted on his face as he screamed out a series of ‘yes’, punching his fist up into the air as he got teary eyed; way to early for seven in the morning, but he was wide awake as soon as he heard the news. 

After his little celebration of excitement, he picked up his phone again, rotating the dial to the academy’s number. He immediately asked for you to the person, who he assumed was the front desk, on the other end. 

You were teaching your seven a.m to twelve p.m class again as you did on Mondays and Wednesdays as you watched your young class stretch their limbs out until Susan from the front desk entered your classroom.  

“Hey, you have a call at the front,” she said from the doorway with a smile and tired morning smile. 

“Did they say who they were?” You asked her. 

“No, but it seemed urgent. I’ll watch the class for you while you take the call?” She suggested, and you nodded your head, giving her a thanks before walking out of your classroom and to the front desk. 

There were about two people you thought of when you walked towards the front. Your father was out of the question as he doesn’t call you for anything nor do you pick up any of his calls. There was Chris, but he rarely even called you when you two were together anyways. And lastly, there was Harry. 

It’s been two weeks since you saw Harry for the second time, and within those two weeks, you saw him again for four times more. 

When you were dropping him off back home, you had given him your home phone, but told him not to call during certain hours when your parents were home, and you had given him the studio’s number as well. He was proper excited as he received your numbers in your handwriting; practically jumping on the balls of his feet by your car as he told you he was going to call you when you got home. And he did. Luckily, no one was home by the time you arrived and you were fortunate enough to have a two hour conversation with Harry as you sat in the bathtub, talking about everything and anything—likes and dislikes, funny childhood stories, and favorite memories. 

“When I was about six, my mum took me to the park with my sister. It was something so simple as a picnic, and we would just eat together and she would bring some board games for all of us to play. Then she would push Gemma and I on the swing, and ride the slide all together. That’s probably my favorite memory,” he said with a smile on his face from the other end. A bright smile was brought to your face as you pictured a small Harry having a great time with his family. 

“Do you miss home? Holmes Chapel and NewYork?” You suddenly asked, knowing he moved to New York when he was a teenager. 

“Yeah, I do—a bit. I mean, my childhood was in England and my family is New York. But my dream is here, in Hollywood. It was a lot to give up, and it was definitely the hardest thing I had to do—to leave them. I miss them a lot…” he trailed off sadly. 

You took in everything he said, giving him some time to recuperate from his feelings. It was the first time he had ever shared something as deep as his family, and you appreciated his openness as you thanked him for sharing his story and how he feels. 

And he was opening up to you, which you liked, but you would have to do the same too—because you wanted to tell him things as well. 

“Can I ask you something?” He said. The water from your bath had already cooled down and it was starting to become cold, but you had stayed a bit longer to just talk to Harry. 

“Yeah, anything,” you replied. 

“Why do you only do ballet? You mentioned that you’ve only done ballet ever since you were little. You’ve never tried the others?” He asked slowly, and a bit of hesitancy was in his voice, not knowing if it was too personal or crossing the line for questions. “You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to,” he added. 

“No, no. It’s okay to ask those things. But it was simply because my parents didn’t allow me—they said the others were too sloppy, so they only put me in ballet,” you sighed sadly over the phone. 

“Oh…do you like what you’re doing? Are you happy?” Harry asked, wanting to make sure you were content with life and your job at the moment. 

“I mean…yeah. I love dance and teaching and my students, but I just wished I explored more, y’know? It’s good to explore in the dance department, but my parents didn’t understand that. So, they pushed me to do ballet all the way up until college,” you explained. 

“What did you study in college?” 

You chuckled, more as it came out as a scoff. “I studied dance. I have my Bachelor’s in Fine Arts, and for a short period of time, I was able to take classes for jazz and contemporary, and I absolutely loved it. A year before I graduated, I got the job at the studio where I used to dance when I was younger. I just stumbled in there to say hi to everyone with my friends, and they just so happened to be looking for some new teachers,” you smiled, remembering that day you got offered the job, and you, Frances, and Alice were so excited. 

“Do you wish you could be doing something else?” He asked. 

“I wanted to be a journalist. Maybe work for the newspaper or in broadcast…I don’t know. That dream is long gone now,” you said softly, telling him your biggest dream. You’ve always had a fascination with writing and reading; it was something you enjoyed. But your parents threw that out the window the second you mentioned it to them. They told you how it’s a lot of work and that you should stick to something you were already good at, hence: ballet. 

As you picked up the phone from the front desk, placing it to your ear, you heard movement; footsteps were heard from the other side. 

“Hello?” You suddenly said, and fast movements were made on the other line. 

“Oh, sweet girl, thank god!” 

“Honey, hi,” you said, smiling as you practically heard him smile through the phone from his pet name. 

“I have some very exciting news!” 

“At seven in the morning? You’re never up this early,” you joked, and you heard him chuckle. 

“I know right! But I got a phone call from Shareen—one of the casting directors-”

“Oh my god-”

“They called me back in for another audition! Can you believe that?! I’m going back! But this time, she said I’m doing a screen test, so I’ll be in front of the camera,” he excitedly told you. 

“Harry, that’s amazing!” You slightly jumped in joy, truly being so excited for him. 

“I know it’s not the official role, but this has to mean something, right? They called me back again,” he said hopefully, wanting some reassurance from specifically you. There was something about talking to you that made him feel safe, and like he wanted to share everything with you. Hence why he called you at the beginning of your class. 

“Yes! That is definitely a good sign. You’ll do great, Harry. When and what time is it at?” You reassured him. 

“Friday at 8 in the morning. Luckily, I wouldn’t have to call off, so I still have work at 12,” he sighed deeply. 

You two hadn’t talked much about Sweetland, only keeping it minimal to ‘how was work?’ Although, he had told you the amount of customers he’s had throughout the month and a little more he’s been there, and it was just under ten—exactly six to which you were surprised because you had thought he had more customers. But he had told you that Daren rarely gave him customers and he had just worked in the back, but he didn’t mind in all honesty because of the simple fact that he wouldn’t nearly be as interested in them as he was in you. 

And the only reason Daren did this was because when Harry had told him about his crush on you, he respected that because it may seem weird to pin after someone when they’re sleeping around still. 

“Okay, I’ll pick you up at 4?” You asked, hoping you would get to hang out with him again, and you wanted to hear all about his screen test as well. 

“Yeah, I’d like that. I’ll see you then.” 

There was a bit of a silence that fell through the phone, neither one of you wanted to hang out, but Susan came back to check on you, and that’s when you had to tell him that you had to go. 

“I’ll see you Friday, Harry,” you told him. 

“See you Friday,” he smiled excitedly. 

Before you hung up, you spoke again, “Oh, and goodluck, honey.” 

“Thank you, sweet charm,” he said before hanging up. 

Sweet charm…that was a new one, you thought. But you loved it either way. 

Harry worked anxiously for the next two days, thankfully, he was not given any customers for those two days. He told Daren immediately once he walked into the shop, and he was ecstatic for him. 

“Kid, that’s great! How do you feel?” Daren asked, leaning on the counter. 

“Good—I think. A little nervous…” Harry chuckled slightly, keeping his nerves intact as he scooped up some gummy bears from the storage bins into the jars. 

“That’s understable. But hey, it’ll all be fine. Take that from someone who was in your shoes,” Daren reassured him. 

“Really? You wanted to become an actor too?” 

“Hell, everyone and their dogs wanted to become a star. I just so happened to not make it very far, but I’m okay with that.” 

“Do you mind telling me the story?” Harry asked. 

“It’s a short story, but sure. Well, I was born in Hollywood and knew I wanted to become an actor when I was a kid. When I was twenty, I auditioned for some roles, only to be rejected because they said I was too young, but that’s a load of bullshit,” Daren shook his head as if he was remembering those events. “I got some small extra roles, but that was it. About three years later, I auditioned for some movie, and they told me that I didn’t have the face nor the talent. I was completely gutted, so I gave up,” Harry raised his brows. 

“You did?” 

“Yeah, but only because I knew it wasn’t right for me. But you--you’re amazing at it. You have a second audition for fuck sake! I’m telling you this so you feel less anxious. It’s scary out there, yeah, but you’re gonna do great kid. I can see a potential movie star right in front of me,” Daren said, pointing two L’s with his hands at him, pretending it to be a camera as he smiled at Harry as he placed his cigar in his mouth. Harry chuckled, playfully posing into his ‘camera.’ 

“Thank you for that. I’ll try not to think about it too much. But whatever happens, happens,” Harry said, somewhat trying to convince himself. 

“Exactly. It’s not the end of the world. If you don’t get the role, then you get up and keep auditioning for other roles. Got it?” Harry nodded, feeling appreciative for Daren’s words. 

“It’s on Friday morning, so I’ll still be able to work-”

“Ah, kid. Don’t worry about coming to work if you can’t make it. This is a huge step, so if they need you to stay longer, then that’s fine,” Daren gave him a smile. “So, tell me about your girl, yeah? Have the balls to finally ask her out?” Harry chuckled, loving the way ‘your girl’ sounded when he was referring to you. 

He hadn’t gotten the chance to tell you how he really feels, but he had a clue that you already knew. There were so many unspoken words between you two that there was also a bit of fear of ruining what you two already have. There were playful glances, innocent touches, and sweet callings of pet names for each other that he didn’t know what your true intentions were when you would do all of the above. 

He’d gotten to know you greatly and somewhat deeply; noticing that you always left out the topic of your family when he asked you questions about your life. He obviously didn’t push it as he was okay with waiting for you to open up to him. But there was this feeling in his heart that felt so much for you. He’s only known you for a month and he feels all the crazy feelings with you that he can’t control them anymore because very soon, he’s going to just blurt out and proclaim his feelings towards you.  A serious talk with you was in his favor, but he didn’t know when the right time was. 

But all he knew was that he wanted you to be his girl, officially. 

Friday morning rolled around quickly, and Harry was calm on the outside while on the inside, his brain was scattered with nerves. 

He had barely gotten any sleep due to his overthinking of what might happen during the audition, and with the many thoughts making his head hurt, it lulled him to sleep for about two hours until he woke up thirty minutes before his alarm. Instead of driving himself mad, he decided to get up and get ready earlier than he intended. He took a long shower, the water from the showerhead, cooling down his body as he washed his face and brushed his teeth multiple times. 

He started to hum as he gathered his belongings; humming all the way to the studio to ease his nerves and keep him sane. It was particularly a beautiful day; the Hollywood morning weather felt nice and cool as the sun started to shine brighter and brighter. And he prayed that the outcome of his audition wouldn’t storm on him on this beautiful and eventful day. 

Luckily, making it passed security wasn’t a problem as his name was on the list and if there was a problem, Shareen had told him to ask for her name and they would let him right through. Walking through the studio was different the first time around because he had no idea what he was supposed to do. But the second time walking through the sets and crew felt like he belonged there. He casually walked, humming as he waved at people who passed by as he felt a little more confidence rush through him. 

“Harry, I’m so glad you’re here!” Shareen greeted him once she saw him enter through the door. The set was a large area with two cameras on opposite ends, and some props. There were about ten people in the room, setting everything up as they fixed the lighting and adjusted the cameras. Plus, people who worked with wardrobe and makeup as he saw Sky sitting at one of the vanities, getting her makeup done. He was happy to see that Sky got another call as well; and she was wonderful to work with, he thought. 

Harry made sure to put on a stylish outfit; nothing too over the top or anything too sloppy. He also wanted to dress accordingly for the role, just in case they don’t tell him to change, so he wore a black and white cardigan with Times Square sketched on the front of it, a white tank under, and some khaki pants. After many outfit changes in the morning, he felt confident enough to wear his outfit, especially for the specific role. Now, if he were auditioning for the main character who’s getting married, that would be a whole other decision that would need at least two weeks to prepare because he has about seven different suits in his closet, not to mention, sparkly and colorful ones. 

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Thank you for calling me,” he told Shareen, smiling at her softly.

“Of course, dear. I’m glad the others agreed with me to call you to come back because I’m so excited for what you have to show us. But now, I must give you the rundown on what’s to come,” she said, and Harry nodded, listening to her intently. “Basically how this is going to work is you’re going to do the same scene with Sky as you did when you both first auditioned for us, but this time you’re going to be doing it in front of the camera. We’re doing this because it’s very different acting off camera than it is on camera, so we just want to make sure the camera doesn’t take away the substance of your acting. Is that okay?” 

“Yes, sounds great,” he said, nodding. 

“Perfect. Now, I have to prepare some things, but sit and run over the script again before we get started--should be about five to ten minutes,” she told him before walking away to talk to the other producers. 

Harry sat at one of the vanities, picking up the script and putting all of his focus on his lines, jogging his memory from the very first audition. He remembered it, for the most part as he thought about the day he auditioned over and over again, seeing if he could’ve said a line differently. Those were the instances when he would drive himself insane. 

After about five minutes, the producers called Harry and Sky to the set. Harry took a deep breath, looked at himself in the mirror to fix his hair, and gave himself a small pep talk before walking over to the set where the producer and Sky were standing. 

The producer was a bit older, and he intimidated the fuck out of Harry. He stood there with an annoyed expression, probably wanting the day to be over with when it had just started. The man gave him no smile to either Harry or Sky; just directions on what to do. 

The director, who he found out his name was Rob, was sitting in his chair with his elbow on the arm rest, resting his head in his hand. He was a little less intimidating to Harry; he seemed like he just wanted these screen tests to be over with. 

Harry had heard there were about three others they called in for a screen test, which racked up Harry’s nerves a bit, but he remembered Daren’s words and thought about you, his sweet charm, to get him through this screen test. 

“Okay,” Rob spoke up, “I assumed Shareen already walked you two through what’s going to happen, yes?” Harry and Sky nodded in reply. “Great. So do just that, but we’re going to film it. Easy,” he said, turning towards the cameramen. “Alright, let’s get the cameras rolling.” 

Harry and Sky got into character for the second time, taking deep breaths as they maintained their focus onto their characters. 

“And...action!” 

The two performed as they did in the first audition, but this time, they made sure to intensify their feelings and emotions. They knew they were in front of the camera and were practically competing against other people, so they worked together to make them both look and act well. It was the same script and same lines, but the whole scene was acted as they were cut off the last time by one of the producers. And Harry and Sky prolonged the scenes, giving it a dramatic feel. 

Once the scene ended, there were small claps around the set, and Harry was happy that they were able to do that in one take. It didn’t take long either; about fifteen minutes to film the whole scene without any cuts or takes. 

And he was damn proud of them. 

“Wonderful job, you two. We’ll keep in touch,” Shareen said to the both of them. Harry and Sky beamed as they gathered their belongings and headed out of the studio. 

“Think we’re gonna get the roles?” Sky asked once they were outside of the gates. 

“Maybe. Who knows. Just have to be hopeful,” Harry replied, looking around for the railway. 

“I’m hoping we do--we make a great team,” she complimented them both. Harry agreed, they did make a good pair in front of the camera. And he was lucky that his partner was one of the good ones and not one of the rude ones that would have made him look bad. “Say, do you want to get some breakfast? I know a diner around here” Sky suggested. 

It wasn’t like Harry didn’t like her because he did, but not romantically, anyways. But he did notice the certain flirty eyes she sent his way sometimes, so she made it quite obvious that she had some sort of attraction to him. Sky was a pretty woman, don’t get him wrong; black hair, dresses nice, and whatnot. But he’s too nice sometimes that they get the wrong idea, but he’s just too charming for his own good. 

“I actually have to get to work,” he said, technically not lying because he did, but it was almost nine a.m, and he didn’t have work until twelve. 

“Oh, where do you work at?” 

“Uh, the candy shop,” he said, hesitantly. There might be a great chance she stumbles her way there and asks for him, but he couldn’t lie to her. Plus, it was great business for the shop and the other guys might get lucky with her. 

“The one on sunset?” She asked, smirking at him; obviously knowing what kind of candy shop that is and what kind of business they do. 

“Yeah, that’s the one,” Harry confirmed. 

“Hmm. Interesting. Maybe I’d have to pop by sometime,” she flirted, and Harry simply nodded in response. 

“Well, I gotta go. It was nice working with you, and goodluck if I don’t see you again,” Harry brought his hand out for her to shake, and she chuckled, shaking his hand.

“I’m sure it’s not the last time I’ll be seeing you, but goodluck,” she said with a smirk before walking away. Harry cleared his throat uncomfortably, not looking forward to Sky coming to the shop, which he’s sure she will be visiting soon.

Instead of pondering over the fact that Sky may be visiting the shop, he decided to just walk over to the railway stop and head on home before he has to leave for work, which is in about three hours. He was proud of his progress and where he’s ended up, even if that means he doesn’t get the role, he was happy he did it with his best effort and made sure to give them his best performance. As he got onto the railway, he thought about how Shareen seemed to take a liking to him, so that had to mean something because if he doesn’t get the role, she could probably help him and recommend him to other people in the industry. 

Once he was finally home, he kicked off his shoes, and grabbed a glass of water as he seemed so dehydrated from the heat and from his performance; too overwhelmed that he forgot to grab a water bottle on his way out. He sat on his small sofa for a few minutes, thinking back at how eventful the day has already been and he hasn’t even worked yet or seen you. He debated on calling you, but it was Friday so you weren’t at the studio just yet; probably at home but he didn’t know if anyone was home, so he just decided to wait until you’ll arrive at the shop. 

He was very excited to see you later in the day, and he hoped he could ease his way into talking about how he really feels about you. He also feels it’s been a while since he last talked to you on the phone, but come to think of it, the last time was Wednesday. The feeling of missing your voice and face was getting to him and he itched to just call you any time of the day, but he understood that you had your responsibilities. But he also did wonder why he couldn’t call your home phone during certain times; he knew you lived with your family and you live in a wealthy neighborhood, so could you possibly be embarrassed of him? 

You’ve made him feel so comfortable in public, but that’s the public where no one knows you, and family is different. They have different sets of values and thoughts that don’t even compare to the general public. And Harry didn’t really make that much; only stocking up some candy and having the occasional sex, which he is never really into. The point is, Harry didn’t want you to be ashamed of him. And although he truly knows that you aren’t, his overthinking mind was thinking for itself, driving him up the wall. 

He glanced at the clock and realized an hour went by, meaning he’s been sitting on the couch for an hour as he blanked out, thinking of so many different things that it tired him out, and he was ready for a nap before work. His tired eyes were slowly shutting as the last thought in his mind was you; excited to see you later. 

Harry entered work with a big smile. Daren immediately asked him how the screen test went, and Harry gave him every single detail. He also mentioned the fact that Sky tried flirting with him and said she might come into the shop sooner or later. 

“And you turned her down? For breakfast?” He asked, a classic cigar in his mouth. 

“I mean, yeah. I just wasn’t interested in her,” Harry told Daren honestly, doing his usual work in the shop. 

“Man, you must be so whipped for your girl,” Daren teased, smirking at him. 

“If you ever meet her, you’ll understand why I am,” Harry chuckled, but remembered you have met Daren briefly before he even met you. 

“I had a short conversation with her, and yeah, I understand. It’s the reason why I don’t give you any more customers. I know you really like her--could tell by the way you talk about her,” Daren pointed out, and Harry blushed. 

“Thank you, for that, by the way. It feels particularly odd sleeping around while trying to make her mine, y’know?” Harry said, and Daren nodded. 

“Yeah, I get it. I was in your shoes too,” he said, and Harry’s not surprised. Daren seemed to have been through a lot throughout his life, and he finds it helpful that Daren tells him these things to somewhat ease his anxiousness. “I gotta go talk to Pete. You okay here?” He asked, and Harry nodded as Daren walked to the other side of the shop and Harry started to wipe down the counters. 

Four hours went by a bit slow for Harry's liking. He was mainly in charge of the register and stocking some jars. There were only about three workers, including himself, and it was surprisingly a slow day at the shop, considering it was Friday. 

Multiple customers had come in and out; out with his coworkers as Harry chuckled, saluting his friends to have fun. Some customers had said the code to Harry as they were paying for their candy, but Harry kindly told them that he wasn’t doing that particular work at the moment, which he earned a small frown to the customers, and he thought the shop was losing business when he turned them down. But Daren had said it was okay because they get plenty of customers everyday because it’s sex and people are willing to pay for it. 

It was 4 p.m exactly and Harry wondered what time you were arriving. You would usually arrive a little before four, but you hadn’t made an appearance, and Harry wondered if you had forgotten that you two were going to hang out. But he chilled out for a bit as he flipped the neon open sign off, indicating Sweetland was closed. 

Harry continued to keep himself busy as him and Jack cleaned up the shop a bit for the next morning. 

It wasn’t until it striked 4:30 that Harry started to get worried. A bunch of thoughts ran through his head, trying not to think the worst as he swept the floor. You wouldn’t have forgotten about him, right? You were the one who initiated to hang out, so you wouldn’t forget. Unless you were really busy and had forgotten, which he doesn’t blame you because being a teacher is difficult. But he knew he should’ve called you the night prior to confirm your plans so you wouldn’t have forgotten, but-

And as his mind was going into overdrive, the entrance bell rang, revealing you stepping into the shop. You were wearing a white tank with some fitted spandex shorts along with some sneakers as your hair was in a bun. He’s seen you in your work attire or workout clothes a handful of times, but for some reason, this time was different. Harry realized that he loved seeing every version of you, simply because it was you; you made his heart swoon at every given chance, which was all the time. 

“Harry…” you said, walking towards the counter where he stood behind it, jaw slightly opened. 

“Oh, h-hi,” he said shyly, making you let out a breathy chuckle. After the many times you hung out, he was still somewhat nervous around you, and you knew that he was, but you made sure to warm him up and make him comfortable. 

“I’m so sorry I’m late. We got held back in class because the power decided to go out for at least twenty minutes, and we really needed to get the routine down before competition-”

“Hey, it’s fine. I would’ve waited all night,” he said, meaning his words. But that made you feel even more bad. 

“I should’ve called--I don’t know why I didn’t think of that earlier,” you slightly frowned, and Harry reached across the counter to hold onto your hands. 

“Sweet girl, I mean it when I say it’s fine. I get that you’re busy. You can’t just end class early for me, that’s your career and job,” he reassured you, giving you a small smile. You only nodded, still feeling quite bad you had him wait. “Now, c’mon. I’m ready to get out of here if you are,” he said, putting the dirty rag in the bin in the storage.

“I was actually wondering if I could get some lollies?” 

“Yeah, of course. Help yourself. I’m just going to clock out really quick,” he told you, and you walked over to where the candy bags were sitting, grabbing one before walking to the lollipop section. 

You helped yourself to seven strawberry lollies, some bubblegum, and some sour candy before walking to the register and tipping the tip jar $5. Harry came out from the back as you were in action of tipping. 

“I told you to stop tipping so much, and you know you don’t have to pay for your candy,” he playfully scolded you. 

“And if I want to?” You raised your brows, teasing him back. Harry laughed as he shrugged, knowing there was nothing he could do to stop you. But that’s what he also liked about you; you always did as you pleased because you simply wanted to. You had your own way of doing things and you never let anyone walk all over you. He thought it was pretty admirable.

“You’re free to do anything you’d like,” Harry said with a chuckle, looking away to see if the register was locked and didn’t notice you were leaning over the counter. He brought his eyes back to you and gulped as your hands were planted on the counter as you were bending over, looking up at him with your beautiful eyes. 

“Anything?” You asked. 

“Yeah. Anything--as long as it makes you happy,” he said slowly, curling his lips in his mouth. 

“You know what would make me really happy?” 

“What’s that?” He asked back, clueless to what you’re about to say. 

You sighed deeply, and not one that was out of annoyance but one that was innocent and teasing. “Cloud nine.” 

Harry’s eyes widened, surprised you said the phrase that he hadn’t heard in so long. He truly wasn’t expecting you to say that; he was thinking of something along the lines of going to the diner or sitting in your car until the sun goes down, but not the phrase that brought you two together. 

“Interesting,” he simply replied back, not knowing what else to reply with since he was so in shock. 

“I know you guys already closed and the shop has rules, but do you think you could make an exception? For me?” You innocently batted your eyelashes at him, but he knew they were anything but innocent. Harry’s dick twitched in his pants and he was lucky that he was behind the counter where it was able to cover his growing hard on. Once he regained the courage to say something back, he took a deep breath as he let out a chuckle. 

“I’m sure we’ll be able to let it slide for today,” he said, playing along as he smirked. You contained your smile, blushing very hard that it made your cheeks warm; happy he was playing along. 

You stood up straight as you said, “Shall we get going?”

“I’m right behind you, sweet girl,” Harry replied. A surge of confidence rushed through him as he followed you out the door, not bothering to lock up as Daren was still in his office, waiting on the other guys. 

You two get into your car, starting your car, putting on your sunglasses. Today’s pair were pink and square shaped as the lens was see through, still being able to look at your eyes through the color tinted lens. 

Before you put your car into drive, you placed your hand on the space between you two, leaning on it as you leaned forward towards Harry. He leaned in a bit closer, flickering his eyes between your lips and eyes. 

“Honey…” you said. 

“Yes?” 

“Can I kiss you, please?” You asked politely, eyes completely trained onto his pink lips. 

“Absolutely.” 

And for the first time in almost a month and a half, he finally felt your lips on his again. The feeling he’s been waiting for since the first time you dropped him off back at the shop. The softness of your lips had drawn him in for more as he placed his hand on the side of your head. 

The kiss had been something you’ve been longing for. It was a feeling you’ve missed dearly and you wanted so much more. You placed your hand on the side of his neck, holding him lightly as you two kissed in your car that was running; engine loud. 

Once you two parted, you placed your forehead on his, hands still set on each other’s face and neck as you two breathed out a laugh, both in disbelief that that finally happened again. 

“I’ve missed you,” you said as you pulled your head back to look at him. Harry smiled, showing off his pearly white teeth. 

“I’ve missed you too. So much.” You smiled back at him, blushing as you sat back into your seat, driving off. 

Harry didn’t know where you were taking him as you two passed the Beverly Hills Hotel. But once you parked into a driveway, he was amazed that you took him to your house. The big house was right in front of him, and although he's seen them in plenty of films and occasionally passes by them, he couldn’t believe you lived here. 

It was a fairly large home; walls painted all white with flower beds under the many windows shown on the front of the house with large pillars next to the front porch. The driveway itself was big as there was an entrance and exit gate. 

He followed you to the large and tall brown front door as you unlocked it, walking in. Harry walked in slowly, looking up and around as he took in the inside of your house. He didn’t know where to look; the shiny tiles, the massive living area, the long dining table or the massive backyard that was just straight of his vision. 

But before he could observe more, you grabbed his hand as you led him up the long staircase and up to your room. 

It’s been a while since anyone had been in your room, romantically that is. And you were a bit nervous to have Harry here because you wanted to know what he thought of your room personally. You had noticed how he was looking around your house before you snapped him away and brought him up. But that was only because you somehow wanted to tell him that everything about your house was not you whatsoever. The big house, the decor, the antiques—they weren’t you. 

But you were able to decorate your room according to your likings and your interests. It was the complete opposite of what Harry saw downstairs, and he was by far more interested in the walls of your room. There were posters hung up, floral curtains, an entire book shelf, a red dresser with a mirror as all of your fragrances sat on top of the dresser along with some knick knacks—it was very you. And he absolutely adored it. He realized he could sit on your floor, on top of your rug, for hours with you as you tell him your favorite song on each vinyl you own, which he thinks is about thirty. 

“Your room is very lovely,” he told you honestly, as he followed you; taking off your shoes as did he. 

“Really? You like it?” 

“Yeah, it’s very you and I like it very much,” he said, hinting at the double meaning to his words. And you understood what he was trying to say, but you smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck as his goes around your waist, 

Your chests were pressed together as you two smiled at each other, and you played with the ends of his curls on his neck. 

“Tell me about your screen test today,” you excitedly said. 

“Right now?” 

“Yes! I want to hear all about it,” you unwrapped your arms and went to go sit on the edge of your bed, eagerly waiting for Harry to tell you his experience. 

Harry sat next to you, and started to tell you everything, not leaving out a detail as he did when he told Daren. He even told you about Sky, and he was surprised that he didn’t see a hint of snark on your face when he mentioned that she was planning to visit the shop. But your brows just raised as you let out a ‘hmm..’ 

“I’m really nervous, but if it happens then great. If not, then I’ll keep trying,” he said. 

“Well, I am very proud of you. I’m sure you did absolutely wonderful, and I’m so excited for you!” You beamed causing him to giggle. 

“Nothing’s happened yet, but we’re staying hopeful.” 

You got off the bed and walked straight to your dresser to sit on top of the wooden furniture. 

“You’re amazing, honey. They’d be crazy not to pick you. I know I haven’t seen how you act, but just by how determined you are, I know you’re wonderful,” you said honestly. Harry really appreciated your words; getting up from the bed and walking towards you. 

He put his hands on your shoulders, running his hands up and down your arms as he was in between your legs. You gulped in response as you took deep breaths, trying not to get worked up from his touch but it was definitely hard not to. 

“Thank you, sweet girl. You have no idea how much your words and you mean to me,” he said, putting his forehead against his before kissing the tip of your nose softly, 

“Show me?” You suggested, and he pulled his head back and raised his brows. “Show me how much I mean to you,” you said, words coming out differently than the first time. Harry only nodded as you heard him deeply sigh before connecting his lips with yours. 

Your hands raked his clothed back as his hands roamed your sides as you two moaned against each other’s mouths. He pulled back to press multiple kisses to your jaw and neck, lightly sucking on your skin, making you let out a ‘mmm’. 

“I wanna taste you,” you said as he was attacking your neck with kisses. He pulled back and looked at, smirking. 

“You don’t have to.”

“No, please. I want to—well, only if you want me to,” you said with a chuckle. 

“Of course I want you to. But you obviously don’t have to,” he said nervously. 

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t want to,” you teased him, and he chuckled with a nod. 

You reached for the button of his trousers, quickly taking them off before letting them go as they fell briskly to his ankles. He got out of his legs out of his trousers before you slightly pushed him back to get off of the dresser. You then slowly untied his bow of his blouse before unbuttoning his shirt and taking it off, leaving him in just his briefs. 

The sight in front of you was something you could get used to, and this time, you really took your time taking in each of his tattoos and skin as the last time, you didn’t really get to. You reached up to kiss him again, one arm around his neck and the other in between you two as you touched him against his underwear, feeling his very hard dick in your hands. He moaned against your lips, and you pulled back, kissing his collarbone and chest, all the way down to his lower abdomen. 

“Can I take this off?” You asked, looking up at him as you were on your knees. 

Harry was practically in heaven as he looked down and saw such a beautiful woman in front of him. 

“Please,” he said, pleading for the removal of his pants. You slid his pants off down his legs as his hard cock shot straight up to his stomach. Your mouth watered from the sight as you rolled your lips into your mouth before licking them. 

But you decided to jerk him off a bit, not for too long because you wanted him in your mouth, but you also wanted to tease him a bit. 

From his dick being dry, you licked him from base to tip, coating him in your saliva before hand started off slowly, pumping and twisting your wrist. Harry groaned out, wishing the feeling of your tongue against him lasted longer. 

After a few more pumps, Harry said, “Please, sweet girl. Need your mouth.” 

You smiled up at him, kissing his thigh before taking in his tip into your mouth, sucking on him lightly. You then started to take more of him, slowly pushing forward as he filled your mouth up. 

You started to bob your head, taking him from his tip and only halfway because that’s how far your throat could take him, but your hand pumped whatever you couldn’t fit into your mouth as your left hand fondled with his balls. 

“Oh, god. Takin’ me so well,” he groaned out, throwing his head back as the feeling of your mouth on him was pure ecstasy. 

You moaned around him; the vibrations of your moans sent straight to his dick, intensifying the feeling. He grabbed the edge of the dresser behind you, keeping himself steady as your mouth and tongue worked wonders on him. 

You popped his cock out of your mouth, leaving a kiss to his tip before kissing down to his balls; taking one in and sucking on him before doing the same to the other while your hand stroked him. 

“I’m gonna fuckin’ cum,” he groaned, looking down at you as you looked up at him, balls in your mouth. 

“Cum for me, yeah? Wanna taste you so bad,” you said as he let out a series of ‘fuck.’ 

“Mouth is made for me, huh?” He asked, and you nodded innocently, even if your act was anything but innocent. “So close.” 

Your mouth went right back to his cock, bobbing your head faster, but not pushing yourself all the way down on him, just sucking on what you could take. Your movements don’t stop nor do you stop to take a break. The slickness of his cock and the fact that Harry was close was enough for you to keep going to get him off. 

Harry started whimpering above you as his breathing was staggered while he shot his warm spurts of cum inside of your mouth and ‘sweet girl’ fell out of his mouth. His hips jolted a bit as he was nearing the end of his high as his cock was still in your mouth, taking every drop of what he had to give you. 

You pulled away from him, swallowing every bit of his orgasm as you slowly stood up; between Harry and your dresser. He immediately captures your lips, tasting himself on your tongue as he swirls his tongue with yours, holding you close to him. 

“You’re fucking amazing,” he whispered against your lips, and you giggled, giving him another kiss. 

“Taste so good,” you smirk at him, and your demeanor is what makes him hard again. 

“Not as good as you, sweet girl. How do you want me?” Harry asked, knowing you have complete control over him. 

You think for a moment, pursing your lips as he watches you, thinking you’re the cutest thing he’s ever seen. You placed your hand on his chest, urging him to step back a little before you turned around, bending over your dresser. The look you’re giving him through the mirror was a seductively and sultry look piercing through him that he thinks the mirror might break from how intense and hot you’re looking at him. 

“Like this,” you said, swiftly taking your little shorts off and stepping out of them, 

Harry smirked, roaming his hands on your hips. You were wearing some plain beige panties, wanting to be comfortable while you were at work, and he thinks you look absolutely sexy in them—anything you wear is sexy on you, and he loves how you own it. 

“What are you waiting for?” You teased, smirking at him. He lets out a breathy chuckle before taking your panties off so you’re bottom half is bare for him. 

He bent down, kissing your hips and your ass before moving up and kissing your back while lifting your shirt up. Once he got to your shoulder, he took off your shirt, kissing up your neck as you loved the way his lips felt on your skin. 

“Honey…” you slightly whimpered. 

“What is it, sweet girl?” His hands squeezed your tits, playing with your nipples before one hand trailed down to your clit causing you to lose your thought and your words. 

He started rubbing your button as he kissed and sucked your shoulder, the feeling caused you to let out a whine. He felt the wetness between your legs and you felt the hardness against your back, both feeling so needy for one another. 

“Harry, can you please fuck me already?” You said seriously, looking at him through the mirror. 

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” he smirked. His hand left your clit before he reached in between you to stroke his cock. 

You bent down to open a drawer, pulling out a condom from underneath your clothes, ripping it open and giving it to him. He rolled it on, slipping his tip inside of you as you both let out a groan before he pushed all the way in. 

“Oh, fuck. So fucking big,” you let out. It was only the second time Harry has been inside of you, so you were still adjusting to his size, and he gave you a minute before you told him that he could move. He gripped your hips, slowly starting to fuck you. 

“You feel so good,” he groaned out. His pace was still slow, but he was amazingly deep. 

“Fuck me harder?” You suggested, looking at him. He smirked and nodded, going faster and harder. 

“Want me harder?” He said just as his ring hands held onto you was tight, knowing you’d have marks in the morning, but you loved it. Your ass was slapping against his pelvis; the sound made you wetter and more turned on. 

“Want it rough,” you said, grimacing at him. And it was like a switch flipped through him, grabbing your hair and twisting it in his hand as he pulled on it, causing your body to lift up so your back was arched against his chest and your head was pulled back to rest on his shoulder. And you’re thankful for all those years of ballet for your flexibility. 

“Tell me when to stop and I’ll stop, okay?” He said against your ear as he continued pounding into you. 

“Mhm. Don’t stop, daddy. Keep going,” you managed to get out through all the pleasure. Harry’s brows lifted, surprised by the slip up. He looked at you and you didn’t seem to notice, so he lifted his hand to go around your neck, squeezing lightly, which caused you to squeeze around him. 

“Fuck, squeezing the fuck out of me, aren’t ya?” He said in your ear, and you nodded the best you could. 

“So, so good. Shit.” 

The room was fucking filthy; the only sounds that were heard was moans and groans from yours and Harry’s mouth and the fucking you both were doing was only adding to the pleasure. 

Harry let go of the hold around your neck and your hair, and you leaned onto the dresser, fully putting your arms on it, holding yourself up.

One minute Harry was fucking the life out of you, trying to bring you to your high, but the next minute he was going slow and steady, prolonging your orgasm. 

“Harry…what are you doing? Don’t stop,” you whined out as you were so close to coming. Harry leaned forward, chest completely pressed against your back as he kisses your shoulder. 

“Wanna have you watch us,” he said, looking at you through the mirror. “You’ve been watching me fuck you, yeah?” You only nodded, completely captivated by his tone of voice causing you to swivel your hips against his. “Then watch us come, okay? Keep your eyes open for me. M’gonna look at you while you come. You’re close, yeah?” You nodded again, and he smiled before standing up and fucking you again. 

And with a few more pounds, you’re coming on his cock, moaning out as your hands roam the dresser, trying to find something to hold onto, and the mirror digging up slightly from your hot breath. Your eyes were trained on Harry as his eyes were on yours through the mirror, watching each other hit your highs. 

He collapsed on top of your back, and you brought your hand around to his head, scratching his hair softly as he pressed multiple kisses to your neck and shoulder. After a minute, he lifted his head as you turned your head towards him, and he gave you a big kiss to your lips, slipping his tongue into your mouth. 

“You’re so fucking good for me,” he said. 

“Me? You’re good to me,” you giggled, completely fucked out. 

“So pretty when you cum,” Harry said, smiling as if he’s remembering your face when you do come. 

“Please. You’re the pretty one,” you flirt back. He gives you one more kiss and proceeds to get up off your back, already missing his weight on you, and he pulls out of you, noticing how wet your pussy was from your orgasm. And it takes everything in him to not take you again, but he needed a moment. 

He used the bathroom in your room, taking off the condom, and washing his hands before walking to find you laying on your bed on top of your comforter, completely naked still. You saw him watch you from the bathroom door and you turned to him, giving him a smile before patting the space on your bed beside you, telling him to lay down next to you. 

You two were cuddled up, completely bare against one another as you were the first time, and just enjoying each other’s presence. 

“Can I tell you something?” Harry suddenly asked. You lifted your head up and nodded it as your hands roamed against his toned abdomen. You felt goosebumps raise on his skin and you soothed them away. “Okay, so uh, what I’m about to say has nothing to do with what we did and how completely fucked out I am, but don’t get me wrong, I really do enjoy being with you like that, it’s just that…” he rambled on, ending it as he trailed off because of the nerves he felt. 

“Honey, take your time, yeah?” You obviously gave him a small smile. He nodded, appreciating how patient you are with him. 

“What I’m trying to say is...that I like you. A lot. And I’m not just saying this because we had sex twice, but because I’ve gotten to know who this past month and a half and realized how sweet and kind of a person you are. And all I want to do is spend time with you and call you up every time I hear good and bad news, or something that makes me laugh. I want that with you.” 

Your eyes softened, taking in every word Harry said. With every word he said, your eyes glossed from how sweet and adorable he is. But you didn’t realize Harry was done talking when you saw his face softly frown; it was then when you realized that you were so into his confession that you didn’t say a word, just repeating what he said in your head making your heart flutter. 

Harry cleared his throat awkwardly, and you lifted his chin up. 

“Oh, Harry…” 

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same. I just needed to get that out because I’ve been wanting to tell you for-”

Harry was interrupted by your lips as you kissed him quiet, hopefully telling him that you definitely felt the same way. 

“You’re crazy if you think I didn’t feel the same way,” you said as you pulled away from the kiss. 

“Y-You feel the same?” He asked softly. 

“Hell yeah I do! Practically since the day I met you. You’re too charming and handsome and sweet,” you reassured him, giving him a peck to his forehead. 

“I-I didn’t know that,” he chuckled. 

“Yeah. Reason why I kept asking you to hang out—just wanted to be around you too,” you said, laying your head on his hand that was sprawled out onto your pillow. 

“Well damn, should’ve told you earlier then!” He joked, and you giggled, happy that you two cleared up your feelings for each other. 

“It’s okay, all in good timing, honey,” you smiled at him, running a hand through his luscious locks. 

“So…daddy, huh?” He smirked, and you rolled your eyes playfully. 

“Better not use that against me. I’m calling you daddy whenever I want to-”

There was a loud bang downstairs that interrupted you, which startled you both as you two sat up slightly. 

“Fuck,” you said to yourself, and Harry heard the panic in your voice, meaning that he’s going to panic as well. 

“Who’s downstairs?” He asked, following your lead as you started to put on your clothes, so he quickly did the same. “Who’s downstairs, sweet girl?” 

“I-I don’t know,” you were telling the truth. You really didn’t know who was downstairs, but you hoped it was your mother. 

“Darling!” Someone called from downstairs. 

Definitely not your mother. 

The opposite that is, because your father was calling you downstairs as you were half naked with Harry upstairs. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you rushed to cover yourself, thinking of how horrible the timing is. 

Once you two were both dressed, you quickly strategize a plan on how to sneak Harry out. You figured that you could just go downstairs to greet your father and have Harry stay in your room until Richard locks himself up in his office, and Harry could successfully sneak out. But those plans went out the window as there was a knock on your door along with some words from Richard. 

“Darling, I’ve brought some dinner and I have some news. Do you mind coming out here?” He asked through the door. You immediately noticed his mood and how much of a good mood he was in, and you still had no idea how to get Harry out. 

Harry was completely lost on what to do. Should he hide? Should he wait? He didn’t know. But you looked at him, smiling guilty. 

“Go to the restroom and just wait till he leaves, okay?” You instructed him, and all he did was nod, walking over to the restroom and closer the door. 

You took a deep breath and fixed your hair before you opened your door, revealing your father with a smile. 

“Hi, dad,” you greeted, covering up the fact that you have someone in your room at the moment. 

“Oh, darling, great. I’ve brought some food—come eat with me?” He suggested. Richard had beamed at you; it was a smile that you had loved since you were a little girl when times weren’t so rough and when you didn’t have thick skin. You always went to him when things were tough, and he would shine his smile at you and tell you everything was going to be okay. And you really did believe him. 

“Yeah, sure. Let me just go to the restroom and I’ll be down there,” you smiled back at him. Usually you wouldn’t be acting like this towards him, but the fact that he seemed like he was in a good mood and that you had a guest, you didn’t want to seem suspicious. 

“Perfect. I’ll get the food ready,” he walked off, and you closed the door, letting out the breath you were holding in. You were walking towards the bathroom door before you heard another knock. 

Confusingly, you walked back to your bedroom door, opening it and it was Richard again, but this time he had a scowl on his face. 

“Yes?” 

“Who’s shoes are those?” He looked down beside your feet, and you followed his vision and saw Harry’s boots right next to your sneakers. “Huh? Who’s shoes are those?” 

“I, uh-” you stuttered, but he interrupted you, stepping inside of your room slowly. 

“Because they sure aren’t mine nor do I think they’re yours because they’re at least five sizes bigger than yours, so I’m gonna ask again. Who’s. Shoes. Are. Those,” he said slowly and sternly, looking at you angrily. 

“Dad…”

“Where is he?” He barged into your room, looking around before heading to the closet, opening it as he was disappointed to find no one hiding in the closet. Your nerves were up to your neck because the only obvious place a person would be hiding is inside of your bathroom, and he was headed there next. 

“Is it Chris’? If you say it’s Chris’ I won’t get mad,” he said in a more softer tone. It scared you very much how much Chris has an affect on him, and you absolutely hated it. 

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out, which confirmed that it was not in fact Chris’ boots. He stormed to the bathroom door, barging it open, and saw Harry sitting on top of the counter, a worried look on his face. 

“What the fuck!” Richard screamed out. You immediately ran towards Harry, putting your body in front of him so Richard doesn’t do anything to hurt him. 

“Wait…” Harry said as if he had a realization. 

“You!” Richard reaches forward, and despite you being in front of Harry, your father grabbed his shoulders, dragging him outside of the bathroom by his blouse. 

“Dad, stop!” You grabbed Richard’s arm, yanking on it for him to let go of Harry. Harry didn’t fight back or anything, and you figured that was because he was your father. 

“Do you know who this kid is?!” He said once he let go of Harry and placed yourself between them again. 

“Well, obviously!” You said sarcastically, realizing that it was not the time for that kind of tone. 

“H-He’s your dad?” Harry asked from behind you. 

“Of course I’m her dad, you idiot!” Richard screamed out. 

“Don’t call him that,” you said, pointing at him like you’re scolding him. 

“Why didn’t you tell him he was your dad?” Harry asked. You turned around to face him, giving him a confusing look. 

“Why does that matter if I told you or not?” You asked curiously but confusingly. “Besides, so many people only date me to get to him because he’s a producer. I knew you weren’t like that, but I still didn’t want to find out if you were only after that.” 

“No, I wouldn’t only keep seeing you for him. But also he’s one of the producers of the movie I auditioned for. He was there when I did my screen test,” Harry explained, and your mouth slightly dropped. 

You hadn’t known what kind of movie Richard was producing because he never talked about it nor had you been home often anymore. But Harry told you the entire storyline including his character and everyone on set. And you’re not blaming anyone in this situation, but if Richard had told you the slightest 

 bit of information about his work, then you would’ve connected the dots. 

A scoff from Richard was heard behind you, and you turned around to find him smiling evilly like he had a plan. 

“That’s right. You’re the kid that auditioned that one time some weeks ago. Think you got some real talent, kid?” Richard said, looking Harry dead in the eye. “Well you don’t. The only reason you got another call back was because it was a 4-2 vote. But if I were any of them, you wouldn’t stand a chance to step in another set,” he grimaced, and your expression turned angry, while Harry took in every word your father said, wondering if what he said was true or not. 

Richard had really deflated Harry’s self esteem and confidence—he barely had a lot to begin with, but he really thought he did well during those auditions. And he didn’t know if Richard was just trying to get a rise out of him to get Harry to knock his teeth in so he could tell the other studios and agents that he’s violent, or because he caught Harry hiding in his daughter’s restroom, or if he really meant it. 

Neither of those options helped him from thinking that he wasn’t a bad actor because Richard was obviously superior in this argument and he had the potential to control Harry’s career. 

“It’s a shame though,” he continued. “I know people like you. Think I don’t recognize that fucking shirt? I see you dicks all around the city, thinking people don’t know who you are. Really--such a shame. If you wouldn’t have been sleeping around with my daughter, then the role would be yours.” Yours and Harry’s eyes perked up. “Oh, yeah. We’ve made the decision on casting and Shareen was supposed to call you tomorrow and tell you the role is yours.” 

Harry was now conflicted on what to feel. Should he be happy or a bit frustrated from what he said prior? He felt a bit dizzy from thinking too much, and Richard scolding him did not help whatsoever. 

“But I don’t think the role is going to be yours. After what I witnessed here, think I’m gonna tell them tomorrow that they’re making a big mistake-”

“You can’t do that!” You yelled. It was completely unfair of Richard to do that because what he saw has nothing to do with Harry’s acting. “They’re practically going to give him the role already! Why would you rip that out of his hands?!” You were on the borderline of crying, feeling so frustrated with your father and ultimately feeling bad for Harry. 

“Darling, I’m part of the movie and part of casting. I can do whatever I think is right,” he snickered. 

“How could you?! You’re punishing someone who could potentially be a movie star! How could you be so cruel?” Tears had fallen down onto your cheeks as you yelled at Richard. You really didn’t think he would be capable of doing something so vile. You knew he had dreams too when he was younger, and to just rip someone's dream right in front of him made you think that you didn’t know him anymore. 

“Now, Harry. I’m gonna give you five seconds to get out of my house and out of my daughter’s life,” he warned, crossing his arms. 

“What?! No!” You screamed, immediately turning around to face Harry. He had his head down as he sadly nodded. You were practically sobbing, placing your hands on both sides of his face for him to look at you. “Honey, please. Don’t go,” you pleaded. If it were any other time you were begging him to stay, he would’ve. But it’s the fact that your father was right behind you, telling you to leave his home that he couldn’t do anything about it. 

Richard had Harry’s career in the palm of his hands, ready to crush them once he stepped foot out of his house, and Harry doesn’t know if he could physically take that. It was already hard enough that he had to leave you, but to have his career being ruined only added to the pain. 

“I’m sorry,” Harry said softly, walking towards the exit of your bedroom. He entered your room excited and eager for two, and now he’s exiting your room in sadness and hurt because he’s not leaving with a smile on his face because he finally confessed that he liked you, and he couldn’t even jump up and down happily because you told him that you liked him too. 

“No, no, no,” you chanted as Harry grabbed his boots, and walked out of your room with you hot on his tail, following him as you were trying to convince him that everything was going to be okay. 

Richard was right behind you two, obviously enjoying what he’s seeing, which is absolutely insensitive as his daughter is practically crying out to the boy that she likes while watching him walk away from her. 

The three made their way down the stairs, and the large house with high ceilings echoed with your sobs and wails. The sound hurt Harry’s ears, not because he thought it was annoying or loud, but because he’s never seen you cry and he didn’t want the first time to be like this. He’s only ever wanted to see you cry when he’s possibly fucking you so good that you become sensitive, begging him to stop; or when he told you that he likes you, or if he even gets a chance to tell you that you love him. But not like that, and he can’t do anything to comfort you at the moment because Richard was pushing him out of the house as you held onto Harry’s arm, causing you to be pushed out as well. 

“Harry, honey, please…” you’ve never begged anyone to stay as you were right now. Not even when you found out Chris was cheating on you, you never begged. This was completely different. 

“I’m sorry,” Harry said again. He had his boots in his hands as he didn’t get the chance to even put on his shoes before he was being pushed through the door. 

Richard stayed back with an evil smile on his face with no sign of guilt or remorse when he looked at you sobbing your heart out. Harry walked out to the driveway, passing by Rosie as tears well up in his eyes. He heard bare footsteps running towards him, and he turned around causing you to bump into his chest. You wrapped your arms around his waist as he loosely wrapped his arms around your shoulders, both not imagining the night to end like this. 

“Sweet girl, look at me,” he said, looking down at you as he placed his hands on the side of your face. Your face was buried in his chest, not wanting to let go of him whatsoever. “C’mon, look at me, yeah?” You eventually looked up, looking into his eyes as tears were filled with it and rolling down his face. It was the first time you both had seen each other cry, and you wanted this pain to end already. “It’s for the best-”

“No! He doesn’t know shit on what’s for the best!” Your hands grabbed his shirt, pulling him closer to you as if he wasn’t close enough already. Harry looked at you sadly, wiping the tears streaming down your face with his thumbs. “It doesn’t have to be over,” you said, hopefully as Harry said nothing. “Right?” 

“I don’t know. It’s hard to tell right now, but maybe in the future we’ll be able to be together.” 

The thought of nothing being with you right now was what hurt him as he had just confessed his liking towards you just seven minutes ago. 

“This is so unfair…” you said, putting your head down. 

“I know, it is,” he said, and you suddenly lifted your head up as if you had a realization. 

“How about we run away? Together? I want to get out of here anyways, and then we’ll be able to-”

“Hey, sweet girl. Slow down, yeah? What we need to do is figure it out as we go. You need to figure out what’s happening with your father, and I know you haven’t told me much about him, other than the fact that he never lets you do anything, but you need to talk to him. I could tell there’s unspoken words between you that you need to let out because it’s not good keeping them in. And I need to figure out my career. Reckon I won’t have a role by the end of today, so I need to keep auditioning, yeah?” He said ever so wisely. You shyly agreed with him, thinking you were insane for even bringing up the thought of running away when you both had so many problems still. “But listen, when the time is right, we’ll run away together, okay?” That made your smile softly at him. 

Despite everything happening with the tears and emotions, he still found a way to put a smile on your face. 

“Just stop your crying. Don’t wanna see my sweet girl shed a tear anymore,” he leaned down, placing his forehead against yours as he kissed the tip of your nose. You did the same as well, and pulled back to kiss his forehead. “I’ll see you soon, okay? But I gotta go for now—lay low and shit,” his voice slightly cracked from the pain he was feeling from separating with you. 

He pulled back completely, disconnecting your bodies from each other’s hold, but having to do it with a bit of force as you weren’t ready to let go of him. 

“No…” you said softly as he was pushing away your hands that were trying to hold him again. “Honey.” Harry bent down to put on his boots, pushing your hands away. 

“I’ve gotta go,” he said sadly, giving you one last kiss to your forehead before running off into the street. 

You watched him as he did, breaking down in your driveway as you sunk to your knees. The hard and heated ground made your skin ash as you fell to the ground, hurting your knees from the impact,  but that didn’t compare to what your heart felt. 

Once he wasn’t in your sight as you saw him turn the corner of your street and proceeded to walk, you got up from your vulnerable position and walked over to your front door to see Richard standing there with no emotion on his face. 

Marching over and making sure that he sees what pain and anger he’s caused you, his expression has yet to change as he stood there with a knowing look. 

“Fuck you,” you spat out as you squeezed your way inside the house and up to your room. 

“I’d watch that tone if I were you,” he warned as he closed the door. 

“Don’t care,” you yelled back, stomping your way up to your room. 

You quickly reached your room, slamming the door loudly and locking it as a way to tell him not to bother you or even try to. You paced your room, frustrated as you pulled onto your hair with deep breaths until you realized that pacing isn’t going to help you, so you decided to take a shower. 

The shower was warm, falling onto your skin as you tried to let it soothe you. You stayed still for a while, just letting the water hit you until you realized, again, that you needed to wash and clean yourself as you were racking up the water bill. 

Once you did your normal routine, it was six p.m as you were getting into bed. It was quite early for you to already be in bed while on other days, you still have four hours ahead of you for work, so it was a change. But you desperately needed to lay down as your head was fuzzy from all the crying you did as you watched Harry leave as well as in the shower. 

You laid on your side, facing the space next to you as you thought: just about 45 minutes ago, you were lying here with Harry as you both told each other that you liked one another as you two giggled and kissed. The thought made tears form into your eyes one again as you cuddled into the pillow Harry was lying on, trying to smell the faint aroma of him, even if he was only lying on it for a short amount of time. 

And you stayed that way for four hours, only getting up to put music on your record player and drink water. But you lied there for hours as Ella Fitzgerald was playing in the background, wishing Harry body was replaced by the pillow. 

Through the midst of being in sadness and on the edge of falling asleep as tears rolled onto the pillow he once laid on, that was when you realized that you didn’t know when you were going to see Harry again. 

sooo...how are we feeling? come into my inbox and i will 100% cry with you! 

chapter 5 will be posted on September 11!

taglist babies: @froggystyles @outofsstyles @whoschantel @4592222 @groovybaybee​ @bfharry​ @wellbafineline @tfonty @bfilipa52 @afire-hes @thorsangel​ @brrilliant-harry @apples2019 @bbymichelleee @harrys-cherrry @ggaayyyong​ @heslilac @hufflepuff-always-and-forever @sozvuchiy @mellamolayla

[ivarthebadbitch]

Strange things can happen

Chapter 17 summary: The real work begins.

Canon divergent, everybody lives, arranged marriage AU after 4x14. Read this chapter on Ao3.

Previous chapters: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16]

On Ao3: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16]

Pairings: Ivar x OC, Ivar vs. basically everyone

Warnings: None

Word count: 1831

Notes: This is it! Thanks to all for the likes, reblogs, comments...every single one is appreciated <3

Tagged: @youbloodymadgenius @heavenly1927 @nukyster-blog @bae-roman @adhdnightmare @danisnotsosecret @punkrocknpearls @istorkyou

CHAPTER 17: Strange things happened

“Well, this is unexpected news,” Ecbert remarked over breakfast to his granddaughter and her husband. “You’re absolutely certain you consummated the marriage?”

Aldreda and Ivar glanced at each other and then looked away, both turning red. Ivar cleared his throat. “You did instruct me, King Ecbert.”

“So I did,” he said. It still seemed rather unlikely. He glanced at Ragnar on the other side of the table, who was rubbing his eyes blearily as Ubbe leaned over to whisper something in his ear. For once, the Northman seemed significantly more hungover than Ecbert after a late night of drinking, discussion, and sundry other activities. Ragnar briefly met his eyes and then slumped down in his seat, tilting his head back. 

“Aldreda,” Ecbert addressed his granddaughter. “Is this true? Lying is a sin.”

“Father…” Aethelwulf complained, gesturing around the table at Aethelred and Alfred, who both were staring very intently at their porridge. “This is hardly an appropriate place to discuss such matters. The children are present.”

Ecbert brushed him aside. “We’re all family here, and besides, the boys will be married eventually and so they should learn now what will be expected of them.” He turned once again to his granddaughter. “Well, Aldreda?”

She blushed and looked away. “It’s true.”

Ecbert considered the pair for a moment, toying idly with his spoon. “Until very recently, neither of you were forthcoming about the status of your marriage. Are we to believe you now? Shall Ragnar Lothbrok and I stake our alliance on your word alone?”

Ivar and Aldreda were quiet, neither daring to even look at each other. Ragnar, though obviously still nursing a severe headache, let out a humorless chuckle and whispered something in Ubbe’s ear. Ubbe snorted in response.

As the silence stretched on, Judith finally cleared her throat. All eyes turned in her direction. “If the marriage has been consummated as they say, it does save the archbishop some paperwork, and the trouble of having to organize a second wedding,” she observed. “No expense was spared for the first wedding, and it would look rather poor to our allies for Aldreda to have to wear the same wedding dress twice in two months.”

“A good point,” Ecbert concurred. “But the validity of Ivar and Aldreda’s marriage should not be subject to doubt. Not in the eyes of our allies nor anyone else.”

“There will only be doubts about the marriage if those of us inside this room allow it,” Aethelwulf argued. He set his spoon down firmly on the table and shook his head. “Judith is correct. Father, your own judgment will be in question if the marriage is disrupted under such circumstances, especially since Aldreda and Ivar both claim it was consummated and they no longer wish to seek an annulment.”

Ecbert looked from Aethelwulf to Judith and back at Aethelwulf again, mildly surprised. It was rare for the two of them to be in agreement. He stirred his porridge thoughtfully, smashing the lumps against the side of the bowl. “I will take your point into consideration,” he said. “However, this matter equally concerns Ragnar, as it affects both of his sons.”

Ragnar, who had quietly been conveying the details of the conversation to Ubbe, finally straightened up with a skeptical expression on his face. Ubbe crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, staring at his younger brother with raised eyebrows. “Come on, Ivar,” Ubbe said in Norse as Ecbert turned his head and pretended to not understand. “You didn’t really do it. Somehow you convinced her to go along with this.”

Ivar rolled his eyes. “I didn’t convince her of anything.”

Ragnar scoffed. “Oh, something was agreed to,” he said to his sons in his own language. “But I don’t think Ivar was the one doing the convincing.” Having turned his head too quickly, he winced and rubbed his temples, and then lowered his forehead to rest on the table.

“There’s something else,” Aldreda spoke up in the silence that followed. “Ivar misses his home, and I would like to see Kattegat. With your permission, we would like to arrange for both of us to return there with his father and brother, for at least a year or two.”

Aethelwulf looked up sharply. “Aldreda…”

“I want to see the world outside of Wessex, Father,” she explained. She glanced at Ivar with a small smile. “And I will not be alone. This is what both of us want.”

Ecbert studied the conflicted expression on his son’s face—pride and doubt and fear. Just over a month ago, Aethelwulf had objected to his daughter even traveling to Mercia. Kattegat was considerably farther away, and not even a Christian kingdom. But finally, Aethelwulf nodded reluctantly. “One year,” he insisted, looking from his daughter to Ivar. “You have my blessing. I trust you will take care of each other.”

Aldreda beamed at him and turned to look at Ecbert. “Grandfather?” she asked in a small voice.

“Hm.” He looked from Ivar and Aldreda, both with anxious yet hopeful expressions on their faces. It was more than saving the archbishop paperwork or the expense of another wedding on Ecbert’s mind, of course: it had not escaped him that it could be very useful indeed to have one of his own in Kattegat to ensure that the terms of the trade deal were being followed and who could reliably report back on other matters concerning the Northmen. And although Aldreda was young, her word would still hold authority as his granddaughter and representative. Perhaps it was time to put her to the test.

“The marriage will not be annulled,” he said at last. “Indeed, any such suggestion that an annulment had ever been considered will be dismissed as baseless rumor. I will also allow one year to be spent in Kattegat. If my friend and ally Ragnar Lothbrok is satisfied with this resolution, then so am I.”

Ragnar shrugged and fixed his gaze on his son. Some silent communication passed between the two of them. Ragnar looked away first and sighed. “I am satisfied.”

A huge grin spread across Ivar’s face, and Aldreda clapped a hand over her mouth as though she could hardly believe what she was hearing. Around the table, the boys were giggling, Judith and Aethelwulf were looking at each other with surprising warmth, and even the skepticism on Ubbe and Ragnar’s faces was beginning to ease. Ecbert tapped the side of his bowl with his spoon and raised his voice.

“Well, that’s all settled, then,” he concluded. “Everyone, finish your porridge; we have much to make ready.”

Despite his order, nobody else was paying much attention to breakfast at that point, least of all Ivar and Aldreda, who still looked rather dazed by the turn of events. Ecbert shook his head, smiled to himself, and dug back into his porridge: the two didn’t realize it yet, but now the real work was about to begin.

                                                            **

It took several weeks of preparation, but at last, everything that needed arranging had been arranged, Ivar and Aldredea had said their farewells, the carriage was packed to the brim with Aldreda’s trunks, and they were on their way to the coast. With Ubbe and Ragnar going ahead of them on horseback, that left Ivar and Aldreda crammed in together in the carriage and practically sitting on top of each other. 

“Why do you need to bring so many clothes?” Ivar complained as he wiggled around in the seat to try to get more comfortable, pushing her to the side with his body. “We could find you something to wear in Kattegat, you know.”

She pushed him back not very gently and stared at him as though he had just suggested that she travel to Kattegat naked. “They’re my clothes,” she said, sounding absolutely scandalized. “I need them.”

He rolled his eyes. “When I came to England, all I had with me were the clothes I was wearing.”

“Oh, I remember. You and your father were absolutely filthy the first time I saw you. Some of us have higher standards. Besides, I have to look my best when I meet your mother.”

He grinned and took her hand. “She’ll like you,” he said, and then backtracked. From the impression he had gotten from his father and Ubbe, his mother had not taken well to the idea of his marriage. “Well, maybe not right away. But eventually.”

“That’s why I have to make a good first impression,” she replied tartly.

He smiled and looked down at their intertwined hands. None of this still felt entirely real to him—that they were still married, that both of their families had agreed to it, that they were in a carriage headed to the coast and from there, to Kattegat. “What if they figure it out?” he asked quietly. “That we didn’t really...you know. Consummate the marriage.”

She squeezed his hand. “It doesn’t matter that much if they know or don’t know,” she reassured him. “They were willing to go along with it. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be here, would we?”

“I guess not,” he said, still not entirely convinced. 

“The most important thing is that we’ll be together,” she said firmly. “Besides, we will be in Kattegat for an entire year. Who knows what will happen in that much time?”

“It’s enough time to make a pagan out of you,” he joked. “I can teach you how to sacrifice a goat. That would please my mother for sure.”

She smacked his shoulder with her free hand. “I’m sure there must be other ways I can please your mother.”

“Your father tried to make me learn about your bread god,” Ivar complained. “I think this is a fair trade.”

“You had to sit down one time with a priest to learn a prayer, and you didn’t even do that. That’s not the same thing as me sacrificing a goat,” she said dryly.

“Fine, no goats,” he agreed. He looked down, running his thumb along her palm, thinking back to the last time they had been together in a carriage like this. 

Aldreda rested her head on his shoulder. “What are you thinking about?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Just remembering the journey from Mercia back to Wessex,” he said. Aldreda had asked him to tell her about Kattegat. He had thought back then about what it would be like for him to take her to see his home and meet his family, and how impossible that had seemed. And something else had happened as well…

“Oh.” Aldreda blushed and sat up. She was obviously thinking about the same thing.

“You kissed me.”

She turned even redder, but she didn’t let go of his hand. After regarding him for a moment, she asked him shyly, “What if...we did it again?”

He grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.”

So she kissed him and laughed, and to Ivar, her laugh sounded like joy, like hope, like the beginning of something wonderful.

[krreader]

good for you | chapter 5.

pairing: teacher!kim seokjin x student!reader fandom: bts warnings: non idol!au ; college!au ; student x teacher relationship ; language ; sex ; dirty talk genre: smut ; crack ; angst previous: 1 ; 2 ; 3 ; 4 word count: 1.8k+

summary: when you’re in dire need for more credits and your roommate finds a course that she wants to participate in but doesn’t want to go alone, you get dragged with her and end up in the class of kim seokjin, the new Korean teacher. suddenly all those stories, movies and shows about a romance between a professor and his student made sense, because how could you not fall for someone who looked like that?

a/n: this is so long overdue, but here it is my friends. finally.

“I have to say,” the waiter brought out your food, you finally having something to focus on other than your extremely handsome teacher Mr. Kim, “This is a little weird. I've never went to dinner with my teacher.”

“If this makes you uncomfortable..-”

Jin understood where you were coming from. He certainly hadn’t pictured himself having dinner with one of his students like this either.

“Oh no! No, that's not what I meant,” you quickly said, shaking your head, “I just mean that this is all new for me.”

“Well, if you want, we can talk about school stuff. Or maybe you could practice your Korean. After all, the test will be very soon.”

“I'm confident,” you said, beginning to dig in without mercy. You hadn't eaten all day because you thought you'd go on that date with Taehyung.. but clearly not, “Not like Perry. All she learns are words that will help her argue with Jeongguk.”

“It's really interesting to me that she was the one who dragged you to my course, yet you're the one that's studying for it and she's not.”

“I need the extra credits.. and I really like the language. I always wanted to learn it ever since I became friends with Jeongguk and Jimin.”

“And.. Taehyung?”

“Oh,” your shoulders dropped, just like your smile, “He's not a friend..”

“You're right. He's not a friend. And he's not worth your time,” Jin narrowed his eyes at you while taking a sip of his drink.

“I try telling myself that, too, you know? But I guess it's easier for other people to say than for myself to understand it,” you shrugged, “Whatever. It's fine.. You seem to be good company too, so I'm content.”

That made Jin smile brightly, almost proudly, “Then a toast to good company, good food and..-”

“..-and assholes who don't show up to dates.”

You both laughed and continued to do so throughout the entire night.

You and your professor had a chemistry that you couldn't deny, you still hadn't forgotten about that time you and him had almost kissed, but tonight wasn't awkward like you feared it would be at first. And maybe that was because of the alcohol that you both consumed and the fact that, by the end of the dinner, all you two could do was laugh and lull, but it was great fun and you really appreciated him being with you, because if he hadn’t, you would have gone home and bawled your eyes out after the guy that you thought you liked so much had stood you up like an idiot.

Him and you talked about your lives, about your interests, about the future.. you actually had really interesting and deep conversations, at least up until the alcohol had gotten to your heads.

Then it was just.. a mess.

“My apartment is soooooo far away,” you complained when you and him were finally out of the restaurant, “That asshole made me drive so much for him. Fuck Taehyung.”

“Yeah.. well, no,” Jin laughed, “Don't fuck Taehyung. He's not worth it.”

“Yeah, right,” you snort-laughed, falling against his chest and Jin, being as drunk as you were, wrapping an arm around you without thinking about whether or not that was ‘proper’.

Though, ‘proper’ was not a word that he thought about at all tonight.

“I'll get you a taxi.”

And see, if you had just said yes in that moment, or if you had just nodded or if you hadn't even said a word and just gotten into that goddamn car that he tried to hail for you, then none of this would have happened.

But you were still upset about having been stood up, your pride was hurt, your teacher was still looking like a sex god and you weren't thinking straight anymore, so what you said next, sounded like a good idea in your head in your drunken state at the time, but never in a million years would you have been so forward if you had been sober, “Nooo, don't. I want to go home with you,” you grabbed the lapels of his coat and came dangerously close to him, grinning seductively.. or tried to, “I want to be with you tonight.”

And see, if Jin was in any other state, he definitely would have pushed you into that taxi, he would have wanted you to say something like that when you were thinking clearly - even if he still tried to deny that -, but his own mind was clouded with lust for you, with alcohol and with.. loneliness, quite frankly.

“My, my, my.. you want to go home with your teacher, Ms. (Y/L/N)? That is quite naughty.”

“I've been thinking about it ever since I first met you, you know?” you whispered, biting down on your lip.

You were obviously both consenting here, that wasn't the issue, the issue was that once you'd cross that line, there was no going back from it. This boundary of teacher/student that could be crossed, but really shouldn’t be.

Neither of you realized that though.

Not when you followed him home, not when he pushed you against his closed door as soon as you were inside and not when he finally entered you after having spent absolutely zero time with foreplay, because neither of you were willing to wait any longer to really feel each other.

“Fuck,” you moaned out, arching your back into his soft mattress, “You feel so fucking good.”

“I imagined this so many times,” Jin chuckled against your throat, pulling out and then pushing into you as hard as before, biting down on your neck when you almost screamed his name, relishing in the feeling of how tight you felt around him.

“Me too,” you gulped down hard, “My best friend is going to kill me for this though, you know? She wants you so bad.. everyone wants you so bad..”

“Hmm,” Jin pushed himself up a little and then kissed you in an almost sweet manner, before whispering, “I only want you, though.”

And he really meant it, even if you couldn’t comprehend it and he wouldn’t remember having said it.

The sex wasn't rough, but it wasn't soft either. It was the perfect middle ground that made you both moan out each others names for a surprisingly long amount of time.

You would assume that being drunk would make him cum sooner, but nope. Your teacher proved to you that he had stamina and was rather creative when it came to positions.

And you and your three – yes, you heard that correctly, first time with him and he managed to make you orgasm three times, your ex-boyfriend should have signed up for a fucking class with him too – orgasms were very grateful.

Naturally the act was also a bit clumsy, but that almost made it even better. Sex didn’t always have to be super passionate and rough, tonight was fun, you two laughed, you two moaned, you two screamed eventually.. it was a good time and your sober self – if this weren't your teacher – would agree with you. In that moment, you wouldn’t have wanted it to be any different.

You've never had better sex in your life and never had a more handsome looking partner.

Thankfully, even in your drunken state, you hadn't been stupid and Jin had used a condom, eventually spilling everything he had to offer inside of it and moaning your name over and over again, like it was some sort of prayer.

Both of you were completely drenched in sweat, the sheets beneath you felt disgusting, but you yourself didn't.

Your legs were still wrapped around him, you could feel him soften inside of you, yet neither you nor him wanted to move, both too tired and too comfortable in the current state.

Your breathing was heavy and so was his weight on top of you, but instead of pushing him off, you actually pulled him closer, your fingertips gently running over his back.

You didn't say anything for a long time, only when he pushed himself up and looked at you did you ask, so low, as if you were afraid of the answer – which you didn't understand why: “Do you want me to go?”

But Jin's smile was soft and his lips on your forehead even softer, “No. Stay.”

And so you did. After you had washed up, you had cuddled into his chest and he had wrapped his arms around you, something so domestic that made both of you giddy like teenagers.

You had sobered up a little at this point, but not enough to realize that what you had just done would have immense consequences.

In that moment, you were just a normal woman and he just a normal man who had enjoyed themselves thoroughly.

And you both wished this moment would never end.

But it did.

It ended when you fell asleep.

It ended when you woke up and accepted that call from your best friend.

“Do you need me to come and get you?!” Perry was immediately alarmed, “Where are you, tell me, I'm already there!”

“No, no, no,” you whispered, tiptoeing into the bathroom with your clothes, “No, fuck, no. Just.. I'm okay. Give me.. thirty minutes, okay?”

“(Y/N), I really..-”

“I'm fine, Perry!”

You couldn't very well tell her where you were, or why you were there.

She might be your best friend, but she would certainly not approve of this. The man she had wanted to fuck – even if only to get back at her ex-boyfriend – as well as your teacher having been your sex buddy last night?

Nah, that wasn't a good look. You couldn't tell anyone about this and you were sure that he’d feel the same way once he’d wake up.

What the fuck were you thinking, (Y/N)?! This was such a bad idea! 

You put on your clothes in a hurry, then checked and made sure Jin was still asleep, before hurrying out of his apartment and jumping into the first taxi that was free.

You barely remembered last night.

You remembered Taehyung standing you up, you being upset and then Jin coming along. You remembered him and you having dinner and then things started to get foggy. After that there's only snippets.

You remembered..-

You pressed your eyes shut as well as your thighs when heat rushed back between your legs at the memories of what you had done.

You still felt him on your body. His lips on your throat, his hands gliding over your legs, his dick pushing in and out of you.. and.. it felt so good that you felt ashamed.

He was your teacher. Your fucking teacher!

And even though this wasn't against the rules, didn't mean that it had been a good idea.

Especially because.. you.. kinda wanted to do it all again.

[hydra-collector]

touch

AO3

Ship: Analogical

Characters: Logan Sanders, Virgil Sanders

TW: drinking mention, panic attack, food

Words: 1796

Summary: Neither Virgil nor Logan are particularly touchy people, but they become more and more comfortable with it as they grow closer.

Note: High school AU

“Virgil?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you consider us friends?”

“I mean, yeah, we’re sitting at the same lunch table and we’ve pretty consistently talked for like, a month. It doesn’t take too long for me to consider people friends.”

“Ah. Do you mind if we make an agreement for how we should proceed in our friendship, just to lay out some ground rules so neither of us overstep a boundary or don’t know when someone needs help? It could really be anything.”

“Oh, sure, I guess. Do I get to add on?”

“Considering friendship implies that both sides are as important as the other, I think it would be inappropriate if I didn’t let you.”

Logan began pulling out his binder, taking a piece of scrap paper from inside. He scribbled a title and the beginnings of a list.

“First thing, I would prefer if you didn’t take my glasses. Some people do it quite often as a joke, and it’s extremely irritating, especially considering I can barely see without them.”

“Okay, teach. How about… if I have a panic attack you- no, I can’t ask you to-”

“If what you’re asking is just that you’d like me to help you, I don’t see why that’s unreasonable.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

Logan tapped his pen on the table as he considered what to add next.

“You can ask me for help on your homework, but I won’t give you answers.”

“Damn it.”

“You have to learn the material, Virgil.”

“Fine. So, if either of us has a crush or something, the other person will try to give them the courage to tell them.”

“That’s fair. It’s something friends usually do, right? I don’t have very many.”

“I think so, yeah.”

“Okay, next thing. If I text you asking where you are, whether we were going to meet up or I’m simply concerned, you have to answer if you can. I had a friend at one point that didn’t respond and it turned out that they’d been getting drunk, and no one was even with them.”

“I can promise I’m not gonna get drunk.”

“Wouldn’t you appreciate someone that makes sure you didn’t get abducted or something anyway?”

“...Yeah, I guess.”

They sat there for a moment, both trying to decide what to add. Virgil looked up for a moment, seeming to think of something.

“Okay, so do you have any problems with touching?”

“Touching?”

“Yeah like, would it bother you if I tapped your shoulder to get your attention, or pulled you by the hand to get you to go somewhere, or hugged you if you have a mental breakdown or something?”

“I don’t have any particular qualms about it, but I do find it awkward if I don’t know someone very closely. Are you specifically affectionate with your friends?”

“Nah, I’m pretty much like you. I guess if it happens, it’s usually fine. Although I’d prefer it if you asked during panic attacks.”

Logan nodded, noting it at the end of the list.

“Anything else?”

“That’s it, I think.”

~~

Virgil sat beside Logan, hand holding up his chin as he neglected the bangs covering his eyes. They were set on his homework, a pencil resting in his other hand.

“I understand what I’m doing now, but I still don’t get how. Do I put this here or-”

Logan pushed Virgil’s hand to the other side of the equation, copying the number there instead.

“It doesn't go beside the va- Virgil, are you alright?”

He wore an odd expression on his face, looking between this hand and Logan.

“Oh, yeah, I’m… continue, I just zoned out for a second.””

“Okay. It doesn’t go beside the variable because…”

~~

Virgil caught up with Logan, who was seemingly heading home. He had a bit of money he’d been meaning to spend after school, and who better to share a meal with than Logan? He’d never eaten the school lunches (to be fair, neither did Virgil) but he wasn’t sure if he brought anything today, so he likely hadn’t eaten since breakfast. He usually brought lunch, or snacks at least, especially with his lectures about good eating schedules.

“Hey, Lo.”

“Hello, Virgil.”

“Wanna go get something to eat? I’m feeling particularly altruistic. Plus, nobody’s home right now so I’ll have no one to hang out with.”

“Well, I suppose I don’t have anything to do. Except homework. I always start on my homework the moment-”

Virgil rolled his eyes, grabbing Logan’s arm and bringing him to the bus stop at a jog.

“Virgil-”

“It takes you what, an hour to do your homework? You can spare a little time to hang out and chill with me. Do you go anywhere like, ever?”

Virgil dropped his arm when he realized he‘d been holding it. He busied himself by pulling out bus money.

“Plus, we can go to that cafe you told me you liked. It’ll be fun.”

“I go places, Virgil.”

“When was the last time you went somewhere that isn’t your house, my house, or school?”

“...Six weeks ago, I believe.”

“My point. Get on the bus.”

~~

“Today was awful.”

“It's only lunch, Virgil.”

Virgil put his head on his folded arms, silently hoping lunch would never end. He was pretty sure he just failed three tests and was about to fail another. He should probably employ study help from Logan, but he was so exhausted. And hungry. Aside from the tests, he’d forgotten both to eat breakfast and bring his lunch, which was probably another contributor to his awful mood.

“Are you going to eat? That usually seems to help if you’re feeling negatively.”

“Don’t have my lunch,” he mumbled through his sleeves.

“You can have mine. You told me earlier you have a test after lunch, you need it more than I do. I’m not very hungry anyway, I wasn’t even planning on eating it.”

“Oh. Are you sure?”

Logan fumbled through his bag, pulling out the box he kept it in.

“Sure.”

Virgil slid over, opening the box. He felt an arm wrap loosely around his shoulders. It wasn’t quite a hug. Virgil leaned slightly against Logan, eating quietly, unable to tear his mind off of the warmth in his chest.

~~

No, no no, not that song-

Words of death, destruction, and misery pounded at his head, trying to get in. Calming thoughts, he tried to replace them with. Think of beaches, and fluffy animals and Logan instead of-

Logan? Does Logan make you happy? Well we’re friends, friends- he doesn’t love you, he never will, not even platonically, you’re having such a fucking reaction to this-

“Virgil, can I touch you?”

Logan? Logan’s still here? Tell him yes, you need him- someone.

He managed a nod, feeling warmth cover his ears, felt Logan’s hands press them, blocking out the words. He leaned closer to the source of the warmth, burying his head as close as possible.

Is that okay? Will he hate me?

“Virgil, could you tell me about where you are and what you were just doing before this happened? Please remember where you are, the song isn’t real.”

“W-we’re in your room. I came here, because- because there wasn’t anybody home today and- and you s-said I could come talk and we- we were talking about music and we played My Chemical Romance but then they started playing that and I couldn’t breathe and I need my-”

He groped around for his backpack, digging desperately until he found his headphones. He put them on, holding them tight to his ears. Logan took his phone for him, opening YouTube because Virgil wasn’t really going to be able to use it at the moment with his hands so shaky.

“What do you want me to play?”

“Um- s-sometimes I listen to Be Calm when I have a panic attack but if you just wanna put some album on that’s fine too-”

He tried to breathe, feebly asking Logan to do the pattern, who tapped it out on his hand. He let the music consume him as it filled his ears. He leaned forward when it had been enough to calm his breathing back to normal. Logan wrapped his arms around Virgil, holding him closer than they’d ever dared to be before. Virgil barely even noticed, just glad to have something warm offering comfort. After a while, he hugged him back, feeling his body relax a little from the touch.

“Thanks, Lo.”

~~

Fuck fuck fuck-

Virgil swore he was going to tell him today. He was going to say “I like you” and then get rejected or not. Simple. If he was rejected, their relationship would go back to normal and they would forget it even happened.

Will it go back to normal? Will he think you're weird or something and stop being friends with you?

He had to tell him.

Virgil had followed him to the bathroom. He knew it was a stupid idea, but he wouldn’t do it if he waited until after lunch, and he was pretty sure no one but Logan even used the bathroom next to the lunchroom.

“Logan can I talk to you?”

“Friends typically converse, so I don’t see why not.”

Do it quick. Don’t give yourself time to overthink it.

“I, um, I get it if you don’t- I’ll just- like you.”

“...Don’t people usually interact with those they enjoy the company of? I assume you would like me, based on the amount of time we spend together.”

“Like… romantically.”

There was a pause as Virgil looked at the floor, prepared for rejection. He would've seen the blush on Logan’s face if he dared to glance up.

“Of course, I get it if you don’t feel the same, we can be friends still, or if you don’t want to be friends anymore that’s fine too-”

“Would you like to kiss me?”

Virgil finally looked up, finding that Logan had approached him, standing close before him. He felt the warmth on his cheeks and could see it darkening on Logan’s face as well.

“...Yes.”

“Then please do.”

That was the invitation he needed, barely waiting a moment to crash his lips against Logan’s, his heart somersaulting and his mind wondering if this was possible.

He couldn’t help but press harder, turning them around so Logan was pressed up against the wall. He pressed his chest closer until he wasn’t sure it could get any closer. Logan’s glasses were pushed up by Virgil’s nose, his hands reaching up towards Virgil.

“Virgil-”

“Virgil can-”

“Do you want me to stop, I’m sorry, I can stop-”

“No just- will we have to come up with a new agreement?”

Virgil laughed quietly. “Oh, I guess. What, like boyfriend rules?”

Logan leaned back towards Virgil’s lips.

“Something like that.”