#SHE JUST BROKE A PLATE KARMA KARMA KARMA KARMA

[petvles]

It's roommate hating hours again!

[call-memissbrightside]

warnings: age-gap, adultery, mentions of cheating, NSFW scene hinted at

"Mrs. Bakugou look over here please!"

You squint against the harsh flashing of the paparazzi cameras, careful to not let your smile drop as you pose for them. Your feet were killing you in the heels your mother-in-law made you wear to match the custom dress she also had her say in designing for the annual Hero Gala. Thankfully your husband was by your side, hand on the small part of your back to keep you steady.

Peeking up at him through your false eyelashes that felt too heavy for your eyelids, you were envious that Katsuki wasn't pushed to smile for the cameras.

It was his role to be the brute, strong man while you played into the dainty, tempting trophy wife that was so small compared to his large size of pure muscles and testosterone.

You weren't a fan of the label his publicist team slapped onto you after you said 'I Do' to Japan's #2 Top Hero almost a year ago. Yet, being a trophy wife was better than being known as —

"Hey home-wrecker, you still talk to Uravity? I heard she's taking full custody of their daughter, would you like to comment?"

Bakugou moved to correct which ever journalist spoke out, and the they just loved that.

"Dynamite, are you on good terms with your ex wife?" "Does (Y/N) prevent you from seeing your child?" "Sir, did you only marry her to save your image?"

Their questions were harsh, as they were just mean. Thankfully the Bakugou family security moved in before Katsuki had to, and soon the pair of you were ushered off the red carpet.

You could still hear them calling out to you from behind the closed doors of the venue before another victim caught their eyes.

"Stupid fucking press, think they know everything," Katsuki mumbled before hiking up the stairs that led to the main ballroom where the award ceremony was held.

You hesitated at the bottom, staring up at the man who was your husband, the man who called you his wife. He was just as handsome as he was when he debuted as a hero even though now he was hitting his mid-thirties while you barely just turned twenty-two. The invasive questions that were thrown at you are rattling in your head, making it nearly impossible to move to be beside your Husband, The Hero Dynamite.

Katsuki notices you're not following him mid way up the stairs and scoffs before walking back to you.

"Stupid hag, I told her you don't know how to walk in heels," Is all he said before taking your hand and helping to lead you up the stairs.

You want to ask him about what the paparazzi was saying, if it was true that Ochako was trying to get full-custody of Katsumi. That meant he was lying to you when you asked if everything with his ex-wife was okay, right? And that last question... did he only marry you to save face —?

"What's wrong, you look like you're going to cry?" Katsuki asked quietly as a waiter showed them where you were sitting, up and center to the stage where the shiny awards were shown off on the platform.

You sit in the cushy seat, and not even the delicate decorations of the table; the shiny, white plates surrounding the centerpiece made up of what seemed to be hundreds of red roses— were enough to make you swoon and forget your worries.

Taking in Katsuki, how handsome he looks in his sleek black suit with the handkerchief peeking out of his chest pocket matching your dress, makes your heart clench.

You didn't want to cause a scene, or be an issue.

That's what Katsuki wanted, that's what he told you when you first met him.

"My wife is such a worrier, always on my ass and so damn dramatic." That's what he said, and it stuck with you because if he could leave her, a distinguished hero and the mother to his first and only child, he would leave you in the blink of an eye. Then what will become of you? The press would have a field day with that, "Fellow homewrecker gets her karma and now is heartbroken, single, and broke."

So, you suck it up, and shake your head. Putting back on your fake smile, your facade, you try being what he wants.

"Nothing at all baby, I'm just so proud of you," You lean in the gain a kiss, and it does make you a tad better when Katsuki grants you it.

———————

"Daddy!"

Thank god Katsuki had fast reflexives.

The moment the bedroom door is flung open, he's sitting up in bed. Katsuki pulls your naked chest to his and wraps the comforter up your shoulders to hide any naked skin from the view of his six-year old daughter Katsumi.

"'Sumi," He grits his teeth in annoyance but Katsuki never yells at his daughter. You hide your face into his neck, his body heat almost feeling scorching hot against yours as you blush red from embarrassment at almost being caught doing it by the little girl.

"Hi (Y/N)!" Katsumi yells when she spots your hair poking out of the comforter.

"Shhh," Katsuki shushes Katsumi, making her red eyes widen in worry. "(Y/N) is sleeping baby, what do you need?" Katsuki was sure that leaving his daughter occupied in her room with snacks and her favorite Bluey episodes playing on her TV would give him at least an hour to destress.

Katsumi cups her hands to her mouth, whispering, "I missed you guys and wanted to see if (Y/N) would play with me?"

Having Katsumi love you unconditionally was something you were immensely lucky to have, and her plea to play with you makes you teary eye at her sweetness.

Being identical to Katsuki in terms of looks, with his blonde hair and red eyes, she didn't inherit her father's temper. Katsumi was kinder and more willing to wear her heart on her sleeve, which made loving her easy for you.

Katsuki could feel the annoyance of being interrupted vanish at his daughter's sweet question, his hands that were anchored on your bare, bruised hips, gave you a gentle squeeze.

"Sure baby, let me wake her up and (Y/N) would love to play with you," Katsuki said.

Katsumi cheered before she quickly quieted down to not 'wake you', running out of the room after softly closing the door behind her.

You shimmy the blanket off you, both you and Katsuki red in the face from almost being caught.

"Do you need help with this?" You tease, rolling your hips to reignite the pleasure Katsuki was pulling from your body. His cock was still hard inside of you, seeing how he was almost finding his release before Katsumi interrupted.

Usually, Katsuki would take any opportunity to use your wet pussy to make himself feel good so imagine your surprise when he shakes his head no.

"I actually have to head to the office to finish up some reports from the week. Do you mind watching Katsumi until I'm finished? We could go out for dinner afterwards?"

Katsuki doesn't wait for your answer, he easily lifts you completely off his cock and placing you on the bed next to him before he gets up and begins getting dressed. You sit there for a bit, watching as your husband covers up all the love bites you left on him.

"Reports?" You ask, still in shock that he didn't finish what he started.

Katsuki's head falls back as he sighs, annoyance making his brow furrow as he puts on his shirt.

"Yes (Y/N), reports. They're important to hero work, you would know if you were one."

The last part bites, and it's the sting you needed to get up and dress yourself. Katsuki knew talking about your lack of having a quirk was a sore subject to you, you told him this countless times. Yet, he would bring it up time to time when he wanted to showcase how he was wiser, older, and knew what he was talking about and how you were stupid for questioning him.

You're having a pretend tea-party with Katsumi in the living room when Katsuki bids his farewell.

"Girls, give me a kiss for luck," He orders, and Katsumi springs up in giggles to give her father a big kiss on his cheek.

You are slow to make your way to him, still hurt by what he said and because he hadn't apologized.

Katsuki doesn't wait for you, he pulls you to him with a strong hand cupping your asscheek and giving it a squeeze. You kiss him, and he groans softly against your mouth.

"Tonight, we lock the fuckin' door, yeah?" He growls against your ear, too soft for Katsumi to hear as she already was back to playing.

It wasn't a proper apology, but the way your core tightened and your cunt leaked, it would do.

Later, as you now played princess in Katsumi's bedroom in front of her giant doll house, your mood began to damper again.

"(Y/N), does my daddy still pay you for babysitting me?" It was an honest question, and you knew Katsumi didn't mean anything by it but you still flinched at her words.

You try smiling the pain away, shaking your head. "Of course not silly girl, your daddy and I are married now."

Katsumi's sweet smile looks too much like her mother's and it reminds you of how Ochako would look at you when she'd come home from work: naive and so happy, oblivious to the fact that Katsuki had you bent over the bed he shared with her just moments prior to her return.

You had to look away so Katsumi wouldn't see the tears gathering in your eyes as you swallowed back the guilt you felt for breaking up the sweet girl's family.

Katsumi, still oblivious and not able to read nor have access to the internet just yet, still treated you like you were the best stepmom ever.

How many years do I have left before she only sees me as the other woman?

———————

Drop-offs were always awkward for you.

Despite the rumors the paparazzi spread, the relationship between Dynamite and Uravity was civil. Yet the relationship between you and Ochako was a bit strained, to say the least.

You hug Katsumi goodbye as she leaves to spend the week with her mother, before she gets into Ochako's car.

"No Katsuki?" Ochako asked with a raised eyebrow.

You cower under her questionable look, and you shrug. "He got caught up in the office again this week."

Your answer seems to be funny to her, and Ochako laughs before shaking her head. "I've heard that one before."

Saying nothing, you almost feel relief when the woman turns to walk back to her car before turning back to you.

"Let me give you piece of advice sweetheart, wife-to-wife," Ochako said coldly. "When Mr. Bakugou starts using the excuse of being 'caught up at the office', you better start claiming assets for the divorce."

Your eyes tear up, and your bottom lip quivers as the older woman rips into you.

"Trust me (Y/N), you don't want to keep holding on when he's already balls deep in someone else," Ochako warns, scoffing at your distress and walking away finally.

"I can't believe Katsuki liked them so young and stupid," The former Mrs. Bakugou said as she walked.

You openly sob as she drives away, Katsumi's confused face zooming past as you cry standing in the huge driveway of the house Katsuki owned.

It felt like your heart was ripped out of your chest, the idea of there being someone else when you've given your all for Katsuki and this marriage nearly drives you insane with grief. Karma was a bitch—

Your phone dings which takes your attention away from your pain, and you nearly cheer up when you notice a new message from Katsuki, only it read:

be home late, don't wait up

part two

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

Because I think I might get around writing for most of the men at some point for the future au I wanted to see or already arrange how many kids they would have

Jin would have two kids in complete accident, he was very happy by his father's discontent at his heir's lack of kids but things happened, the person who celebrated them the most was the grampa. Maybe two boys or a boy and a baby girl.

Thoma screams girl dad, doesn't he? Just imagine him braiding her hair for evening tea and being a menace to any boys she brings home with Alan if they break her heart, he is still a delinquent at heart.

For Luca I'm split between wanting him to have two boys to mirror him and his brother or a spoiled girl he plays knight for, sigh, such a hard decision...

Kaito, how did he reproduce?

Alan, two kids, one of each, no hesitation, he has a ‘little princess’ who he is nervous of hurting accidentally when he holds her but is as much of a wild beast as his brother. They like going hiking and getting chased by their dad when they get too close to a lake or too far away from the path.

In Leo’s scenario i see him with a daughter that managed to soften out his meanness (while she is around so she doesn't pick up on much of his sass, kids don't make miracles) and left him with another on the way that I also feel would be another girl. He is just a bit annoyed he doesn't have to redo the nursery for content but whatever.

Sho I KNOW that in his fic I said ‘nephew’ but imagine a baby girl that was playing with her family before she was even born and had you two scattering to find a girl's name at the hospital. It's just the beginning of her mischievous streak. Sho thinks it's his karma from being a thug as a teen.

I don't know why but I can see Romeo having three kids? Maybe because Gucci had like five kids or it's to a certain degree to assure himself the MC wants to stay with him and wouldn't leave out of the blue 💔 attachment issues bb.

Ritsu originally only wanted one child, he was an only child and was happy getting all the attention, but not everything went as he planned so he got twin boys.

Taiga, why would you do this to yourself??

Haru already has a son, peekaboo, but when he grows up he accidentally has a boy who he starts giving some minor tasks around, separating some leaves for the animals, brushing peekaboo’s hair, plucking weeds, etc etc. Don't look at him like that! He need all the help he can get.

Towa has girls! They like fairy tales with happy endings and always bother their dad to tell them your love story. When they become toddlers they go through a vegan phase to mimick him and will cry if they have meat or egg on their plate.

Ren was 99% sure he was going to die a virgin. He ends up with a girl he plays games with everyday after work. Borderline ipad kid.

Can grandpa Ed even have kids? Lol if he has I think I could see him with just one vampy baby that sits next to him and drinks tears off a sippy cup while his dad watches iceberg videos. Another ipad kid.

Rui (if somehow you broke his curse) is someone who I don't think would have kids, or at least not planned jajs but maybe one girl that he ends up overprotecting from playboy men like him in his youth.

Lyca I want to say they have a litter just for the joke of him being a werewolf but he doesn't seem to have any siblings so the joke doesn't get far :(

I see Subaru with only one child if any. He loves the little thing but feels he is intruding on their privacy, whenever he touches his preteen/teen kid he feels sorry enough to apologize.

I see Haku as someone who would be pretty chill with his life after Darkwick and go along with it as it happened. If you two had a child, great; if you didn't, great too. Very go with the flow parenting too.

Zenji he is dead wth jajajaj

Yuri NEEDS a little child that is always so impressed with their papa and he gets to brag about being the best or something. Please just don't let him be a strict teacher so your kid will follow his steps, he thinks it's for the best of their future but you can coerce him into just giving a very lengthy lecture about anomalous medicine without tests.

Jiro HAS to have a boy that is so similar to his uncle 🥹 always cooing since he is able to vocalize and chasing his dad around to get uppies while he tends to the backyard filled with herbs.

[uniquejellyfishqueen]

IBYTAM- 9 buttons

11/10/24 KC Chiefs game- 8 buttons

Her cat is named after Benjamin Button nickname Benji

12/18/2018 born

4/26/2019 adopted

4/26/2019: Instagram photo introducing him “This is Benjamin Button. He’s a good boy”

“Like if Cleopatra grew up in a small town and all the bad boys would be good boys if they only had a chance to love her”

“Good boy, that’s right come close”

4/26: International Chernobyl Disaster Remembrance Day (1986)

4/26/1977: New York City’s most famous disco, Studio 45 opens

4/26/1977: The Morgan Creek Bridge is Chapel Hill, NC is renamed the James Taylor Bridge

-Taylor was named after James Taylor.

-11/22/2011 N2 MSG, NYC Speak Now World Tour James Taylor joined TS for performance of “Fire and Rain”

*it was during this performance on 11/22/2011 that the arm lyrics she had down her left arm: “Bring all the pretenders, one day. We will be remembered.” These were her own lyrics from Long Live.

-Long Live is track 14 on 3rd album.

-it has been played 46 times on tour, it was part of the set list but it was removed. Most recent played: London N7, Lisbon N2, Singapore N6.

726 is the area code for San Antonio—

Cities: San Antonio, Schertz, Universal City, Converse, Balcones Heights, Cross Mountain, Elmendorf, Garden Ridge, Helotes, Hill Country Village, Hollywood Park, Kirby, Leming, Live Oak, Olmos Park, Selma, St. Hedwig, Terrell Hills, and Windcrest

4/26/1905: Jack McCarthy, of the Chicago Cubs is the first fielder to throw out 3 runners at home plate in one game against the Pittsburgh Pirates.

4/26/1912: The 1st home run hit at Fenway park, in Boston MA was by Hugh Bradley of the Red Sox.

4/26/1995: Coors Field opens in Denver, Co

-ground was broke on 10/16/1992

*The Denver Masonic Temple Building (5 minutes from Coors Field) a Richardsonian Romanesque style building from 1889. It was added to the NRHP on 11/22/1977. Okay because they really like to plan they have a temple on both side of the field… no expenses spared I see, they are 10 minutes apart. Okay and their oldest one #5 just celebrated 100 years on 7/10/24. Denver has over 104 lodges, around 16,000 members, many who are members of the York and Scottish Rite of Freemasonary. (p.s Pennsylvania is the largest Masonic Jurisdiciton in the US claiming more than 80,000 members at the end of 2021 (more than any other state, nice..)

TS said that he is a purr box, “Karma is a cat purring in my lap cause it loves me.” The cat in the music video is Olivia Benson

-Mariska Hargitay posted on Instagram on 11/30/2023 a picture of her Siamese cat. “Karma is a cat, @taylorswift Meet Karma.”

(all numbers below added = 12)

O 15 B 2

251 is the area code for southwestern Alabama, including Mobile, Baldwin, and Washington. Created on 6/18/2001 -> 6/18/2024 ET #103 N1/1 Cardiff

B 2 B 2

#22 N3/3 Philadelphia SS guitar 11/11. And on piano were 412 which is the area code for Pittsburgh.

——-Turtle Creek is a borough in Allegheny County, PA 12 miles SE from Pittsburgh. Their lodge is #613. 6/13/2024 was #100 on the ET N1/3 in Liverpool. The surprise songs #s make the area code for McDonald, Missouri.

-> -> -> 6/13 is national sewing machine day (she featured a sewing machine in one of her fortnight videos.) And also 6/13/1991 the first all sports daily newspaper, the National stops publication.

*6/13/1995 Jagged Little Pill released

*6/13/2008 there was a wedding

*6/13/2015 TS brings Rachel Platten on stage to sing “Fight Song” during the show in Philadelphia.

->6th album 13 track is “This is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things.” This has been played 2x on the ET. Seattle N1/2 #44 7/22/23 and Cardiff N1/1 #103 6/18/2023. The difference between the two #s is 59. Show #59 N2/3 Buenos Aires. 1st mashup played first time End Game was played mashed up with Out of the Woods and Is it Over Now? Those 2 1989 songs are repeated again on #59 N2/4 Paris on 5/10/2024, the difference being instead of End Game she played album 11 track 3 MBOBHFT

Seattle & Buenos Aires SBA (sweet baby Angel?)-> -> -> SBA Small Business Administration: an independent agency of the US government that provides support to entrepreneurs and small businesses. Formed on 7/30/1953 -> 7/30/2011 Speak Now World Tour Quicken Loans Arena Cleveland, OH

—-Evermore (9th album) Coney Island (9th Track) ft the National released on 12/11/2020. The National and TS released The Alcott on 4/28/2023

* Benjamin is named after the character portrayed by actor Brad Pitt in the 2008 film
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. Which was released in 12/25/2008 (merry ho ho) (17 days after the last night) (7 days until NYD) (turning 16 this year- like My Super Sweet 16? Theme song was Hilary Duff, 10 seasons 49 episodes premiered on 1/18/2005 and ended on 9/11/2017)

* His face is featured in the music video for "You Need To Calm Down" on the wristwatch with cat design, and in Taylor's Amazon music ad.

*A fun fact I learned was that Amazon has only been selling music and videos since 1998. That is only 26 years and how many of us remember the last CD we bought at the store? People sometimes get shocked when you talk about how it used to be, when it wasn’t that long ago to begin with.

* He was featured on Swift's TIME magazine cover for 2023's Person of the Year. (*this and the one above are both clues to time, like Benjamin is the clue for time)

* He has an IMDb credit for his role in the "ME!" music video.

* Benjamin has his own TSantiherochallenge video.

[siempre-bucky]

Prompt # 1 form list a? Steven grant getting a cartouche from his s/o with their name on it, while /o has his name on their cartouche ? (It's a pendant of hieroglyphs )

Steven Grant x Reader

wc: 767

prompt: “what are you do-” “look, now we match!”

a/n: this request made me so happy. I was a design major in college and I spent a lot of time with cartouches :')

Fuck! c'mon, c'mon. Steven anxiously tapped his foot, his brown eyes scanning the digital board at the front of the bus. It was his one-month anniversary, and he was determined not to screw things up with you. He set alarms on every device, constantly asking bystanders he passed on the street what day it was, he even googled it a few times.

"Thank you! Cheers," he told the bus driver as he hurried down the steep steps, hand shoved deep in his grey jacket pocket.

His calloused hand protected your gift. He figured his pocket would be the safest place for it. Hell, he wasn't sure if a one-month anniversary required a gift. But here he was, his mind overthinking and replaying every scenario of himself presenting you its contents.

The restaurant was quiet for a Friday night, patrons talking amongst each other over classical music playing overhead. Steven sat alone, staring at the tiny flame of the tea-light candle that rested in the center of the table.

She was late.

Did he have the correct day? It was Friday, right? He glanced up, a stoic waiter getting ready to pass his table. "Excuse me, mate," Steven awkwardly raised his hand, signaling him to stop.

"You alright?" the man asked.

"Y-yeah," he cleared his throat, "It's Friday, innit?"

The waiter looked at him with a puzzled expression etched into his face, scanning him up at down. Did he always look this nervous?

"Sure is, mate."

"Right, right. Yeah, ok, thank you," he stammered. Maybe it was his turn to be stood up after all those failed dates. Karma was finally catching up to him. Don't cry Steven, you sadsack. He exhaled deeply and threw his head backward being met with the ornate ceiling.

"Steven!" Your cheery voice broke him through his thoughts. His chin jolted upwards, eyes opened wide as he saw you standing in front of him. Your hair was slightly disheveled, your chest heaving as if you ran all the way here. "I'm so sorry I'm late. My meeting ran late, my phone died, and would you believe the train was late too?" you spouted your apology as you placed your bag on the back of the wooden chair and took your seat.

A love-sick smile found its way across his lips. Everything around him faded to the background, he was just happy you showed up. "I'm glad you're here," he admitted timidly.

You stretched your arm out, extending your hand to him, which he happily took, "Me too," you told him, "happy anniversary."

Anniversary! Steven suddenly remembered the box burning a hole in his pocket. He hastily removed his hand and dug around in his jacket before pulling out a small black velvet box. "I... I wasn't sure if we were giving gifts, but I... wanted to get you something."

You shifted happily in your seat as he placed the box on the table, sliding it in your direction. "Thank you," you giggled, opening the box. Inside of it was a small gold necklace, a shiny gold plate with hieroglyphics engraved in the center, enclosed by an engraved hoop.

"It's a cartouche," he explained, he couldn't contain the happiness it brought him to tell you another piece of knowledge he stored in his brain. "Egyptians would carve the names of royalty to identify them in their tombs and such. I got you one with your name."

Taking the delicate chain, you placed it around your neck, sliding your fingertips down to cover the pendant. Steven searched for your response, looking up at you through his lashes. His heart started to sink when you giggled.

You turned and reached inside your bag, "I got you something too," you hummed, pulling out a black drawstring bag.

"You did?" Steven coughed and sat up a little straighter, one of his hands raking through his dark curls.

"Mhm! Close your eyes," you instructed him, gently grasping his wrist. Steven nodded and did what he was told. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't nervous, he clenched his eyes closed tightly, his arm ready at any moment to jerk back.

Then he felt something cold wrap around the bone of his wrist, "What are you-"

"Look," you chuckle, "now we match."

Steven opened his eyes to inspect his wrist. A simple gold bracelet with his cartouche in the center. A light pink blush dusted his warm cheeks, "Thank you, my darling!" he cheered, leaning forward to kiss your cheek lovingly, "it's perfect. You're perfect! I can't believe we thought the same thing."

"Great minds think alike, I guess."

♡join the thursday night blurb night♡

[dreamwritesimagines]

Twisted 20 - The Compass [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking, blood.

Word Count: 4000

Summary: Coming home can be unpleasant.

After getting a phone call from the FBI, you were now sure of one thing:

Karma really needed another hobby other than messing with you, and this break up was definitely not going the way it was supposed to go.

For starters, people who broke up with each other were not supposed to see each other this much. You had different lives, different social circles, different jobs and somehow universe kept pushing you two in each other’s space.

To make things worse, the last time you talked to Garcia she had offhandedly mentioned Luke dragging Spencer to a nightclub much to his displeasure and introducing him to a friend of his. Naturally, your mind was full of images of Spencer in a happy relationship, eventually moving to a house in the suburbs with her and having kids and all that.  

“I don’t know what Luke is thinking,” Garcia said, “But I’m two seconds away from pulling him aside and giving him a piece of my mind. Reid is obviously still not over you, ambushing him to introduce him to a girl won’t change that.”

Needless to say, you had been in a terrible mood for the last couple of days.

“What’s taking her so long?” you checked your wristwatch and Nolan looked at you over his newspaper.

“Oh she’s talking to the board of the charity auction,” he said, “There are some last minute changes, apparently.”

You heaved a sigh and checked the time again, “I can’t stay for long,” you murmured and Nolan raised his brows.

“Oh? In a hurry?”

“Me and Spencer and…well, some of his team will go by the woods,” you said, “They found some bones near dad’s cabin close to the weekend house and they think it might help me remember where the rest is buried.”

He made a face, “That’s disturbing.”

“Nah, I thought going on a dead body remains hunt with my ex in the woods near one of my childhood trauma places would be romantic,” you deadpanned, “You don’t do that with your exes?”

“Not really?”

“Oh man you’re missing out.”

He let out a chuckle and shook his head, “I take it things haven’t improved on the heartbreak front?”

“I wouldn’t know, apparently his friend is setting him up with someone.”

“Mm, let me guess,” he mused, “Your plan is to do nothing about it?”

“No, I’m actually following your example,” you smiled at him sweetly, “I’ll just wait for decades and hope the girl turns out to be a serial killer.”

He tilted his head. “Touché.”

“Aw thank you,” you pushed at the food in your plate, “No seriously, what can I do? I can’t just go to him and tell him not to date other people. We broke up— I broke up with him.”

“You could explain the reason behind that.”

“I can’t do that.”

He clicked his tongue, “Well then, I suggest you get ready just in case he happens to ask for your help planning his wedding.”

“You’ve been absolutely no help at all Nolan, I appreciate that.”

“I’m offering you my wisdom and you’re not taking it,” he held up his hands, gesturing surrender, “I also suggested to get his superiors to fix a meeting with him to talk to him about certain boundaries and mistakes but…”

“Get his superiors— I’m sorry, what?”

“I play poker with the head of the department he works under.”

“Of course you do.” You sipped your coffee, “When did you suggest that exactly?”

“Oh not to you, to your mother,” he nodded to himself as he saw the look on your face, “Yeah. But then I saw how it could not only damage some professional relationships, but also it’s better to let young people solve their own problems, no matter how easy it is to solve them with an outsider’s influence.”

You pulled your brows together.

“Try again.”

“I asked your mother and she said no.”

“Oh thank God.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, “Yeah no, don’t do that. We’re not in high school, you know?”

“Could’ve fooled me,” he smiled slightly at the scandalized look on your face.

“Whatever,” you waved a hand in the air, “It’s strange that mom said no though. She doesn’t really like him nowadays, and she keeps listing all his….disadvantages whenever I talk about him.”

“Disadvantages?”

“Mm hm. The other day she said it was maybe for the best in the long run, because he’s an FBI agent so considering his paychecks, we would eventually fight about our future children’s tuition fees.”

Nolan thought for a moment, “She does have a point, considering what FBI pays their agents…”

You blinked a couple of times, “Right,” you said, “That’s exactly why I broke up with him. Because who would be paying for our hypothetical future children’s future tuition fees, yeah. Deal breaker, that one.”

“It could be a contributing factor though—“ he started but you heard your mother’s heels approaching and soon enough she walked into the living room and pressed a kiss on your cheek.

“Darling, I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting,” she told you before pecking Nolan on the lips, making him smile, “This whole charity auction, honestly…”

“Do I have to come to that thing?” you looked between them, your brows pulled together in an attempt to make them take pity on you but your mother tilted her head.

“Yes you do.”

“It’s just that…” you heaved a dramatic sigh, “You know, I’m going through a break up—“

“You’ve been going through a break up for more than a month now, you’re not allowed to use that as an excuse.”

“My heart is broken!”

“Good, focus on charity then.”

You rolled your eyes and turned to Nolan, “What’s the real reason she’s dragging me to this?”

“Oh no, I’m not getting caught in this crossfire.”

“Mom?”

She cleared her throat and sipped her coffee, “The other day when I visited Nolan at work, he happened to introduce me to this very handsome Chief Marketing Officer who’s handling—“

“Oh no.”

“Keep in mind that we pay him more than what FBI pays his agents.” Nolan stated, laughing up his sleeve as if he found it hilarious and you scrunched up your nose.

“Nolan, I know you were born in the eighteenth century but that’s actually not a problem we have these days.”

“He’s single,” your mother said as if she wasn’t even listening and you threw your head back, letting out a whine, “He loves dogs and squash—“

“Jesus Christ.”

“Don’t worry, he’s not sitting at our table,” your mother said, “I fixed another surprise for you at our table, and I figured you’d want to keep your options open.”

“Besides, if your ex boyfriend is moving on…” Nolan trailed off and your mother raised her brows.

“Oh, Spencer has a girlfriend now?”

“No!” you said way too loudly and then cleared your throat, “I mean—I don’t care. But I don’t think so, I would’ve heard it.”

“See? More reason for you to meet other people.”

You pouted, “I hate this so much. I can’t believe I’m being dragged into this nonsense only because you guys are making me, this is seriously bullshit…”

“Y/N, do you want some cookies?” Nolan interrupted your grumbling, “One of my assistants brought them from France the other day.”

You scoffed, “How old do you think I—” you paused for a moment, then shrugged your shoulders, “Actually yeah, I’d love some cookies right now.”

                                                  ***

Unfortunately, when you left your mother’s house you had overestimated the traffic and how long it would take you to get there so by the time you had pulled over by the road leading into the woods, you could only see one FBI car. You didn’t have to wonder who was in it when your eyes caught the sight of Spencer leaning against it and your heart skipped a beat.

“Fuck…” you murmured to yourself and considered for a short second to drive away until others got there, but it was too late. Spencer turned his head, saw your car and stopped dead on his tracks so you heaved a sigh and pushed open the door to step outside. You looked around before you pulled yourself up to sit on the hood before you fished your cigarette pack out of your purse.

“You’re early.” Spencer said and you raised your glances to look at him for a second before lighting your cigarette.

“So are you,” you put the lighter back into your purse, “Came by yourself?”

“Luke is talking with the police.”

“Lovely,” you exhaled the smoke and he crossed his arms, looking up at the sky for a moment before stealing a look at you.

You had no idea what to say to him. After that one day of truce, it was like you were back to being enemies and ignoring each other. The fact that he might have been ready to date another person made you feel even worse if it was possible, especially after that phone call between you. He had said that he was a mess just like you were, he had said you had taken a part of him when you left him, and—

You didn’t even know what you hoped for. You knew it wouldn’t change anything, and yet the thought of him being with someone else was more than enough to make you feel like you were falling off a cliff.

Maybe it was just the truce talking. Maybe he didn’t mean any of that.

Your phone vibrating in your purse made you snap out of your thoughts and you looked at the caller I.D., then frowned and answered.

“Hey, I’m a little busy at the moment.”

“On a Sunday?” Lincoln’s voice reached you, “Who’s the workaholic now?”

“Still you Linc,” you said and Spencer’s head shot up, “What’s up?”

“I just called to let you know that they just moved me to your table.”

You pulled your brows, “I’m sorry, what?”

“At the charity auction. My table was 3, they just e-mailed me to say I’ve been moved to 1.”

“Jesus Christ, you’re the surprise?” you asked, pinching the bridge of your nose, “Somebody needs to stop my mother.”

“Hm?”

“Nothing,” you said, “I…That’s great, we’ll sit together then. If you like sulking the whole night, we’ll be just fine.”

“Come on, it could be fun.”

“I doubt that.”

“Hey, at least you’re not alone.”

“I’ll drink throughout that night, you sure you can keep up?”

“Do you even know who you’re talking to, you amateur?”

“Oh it’s on.” You smiled slightly and he chuckled.

“I’ll see you at our table then. With drinks.”

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” you said before you hung up, and put the phone back into your purse before you felt Spencer’s burning gaze on you, so you looked up at him.

“What?” you asked and he scoffed a bitter laugh, shaking his head.

“Nothing.”

“Professor.”

“I didn’t say anything,” he said, his gaze fixed on the woods and you tilted your head.

“Fine.”

He sucked a breath through his clenched teeth, as if trying to decide whether to say anything or not before you could ask again, Luke approached you two, another car pulling over by your car.

“Hey there.” You greeted Luke as you jumped off the hood and he tilted his head.

“Why are you shorter?”

You motioned at your sneakers, “I figured since we’re going into the woods, heels would be a bad idea.”

“Is this the first time I’m seeing you without heels?”

“Probably.”

“Should we get going?”

JJ stole a look at Spencer and you, then turned to Luke, “Actually, do you mind coming with me to the car for a moment? There’s this file I want to get your opinion on.” She nodded at you, “You guys go ahead if you want.”

You pulled your brows together for a second, trying to understand what was happening but then decided you wouldn’t question it and stepped into the woods, a shiver running down your spine.

It looked way too familiar.

You gritted your teeth and started walking, and it didn’t take long for Spencer to catch up with you.

“So I never got to ask you,” you managed to say after almost ten minutes of complete silence, “That…that blood vial in that petal bowl, whose blood was it?”

“Anthony’s.”

“Right,” you murmured as you kept walking, “Was it….was it something my dad did back then?”

“No.” Spencer said curtly and you looked over your shoulder.

“So then what does it—“

“Are you dating other people?” the words left his lips in a hurry as if he didn’t know how to stop them and you stopped dead on your tracks.

“I beg your pardon?”

He opened his mouth for a moment like he was trying to find the right words but then he closed it and shrugged his shoulders.

“Never mind,” he murmured, walking past you and you gawked after him for a while before you rushed after him.

“No, what was that?”

“Nothing.”

Maybe your whole theory about Spencer being a genius therefore not being able to be jealous wasn’t exactly the truth.

“I’m not— is this about Lincoln?” you held up the phone in your hand before you sped up to catch up with his long strides, “There’s this stupid charity auction bullshit and we’re both attending it, that’s it.”

“Alright,” he murmured, still walking and you let out a breath.

“Spencer!”

“What?” he turned around to look at you, that fire burning in his eyes again, “I said never mind, okay?”

“I’m not dating Lincoln!” you exclaimed “And I— even if I were, at least he’s not someone I met at a nightclub my friends forced me to go, unlike some of us.”

“What does that-” he started but it hit him in a second, “Garcia told you.”

“It came up.”

He raised his brows, “Yeah? How?”

“It just did.” You managed to say even if your cheeks were burning, “So what? You’re going to stand there and ask me that when you’re moving on already?”

“I’m not moving on!” he said as if you had just insulted him, “Besides, you broke up with me remember?”

“Yeah and you wasted no time Spencer, congratulations.” You murmured as you walked past him but as soon as your eyes caught the sight of the huge cabin by the small hill, your breath got caught in your throat and you took a step back, the memory flashing through your mind so fast that the headache hit you out of nowhere.

Your father tugged you by your hand through the woods as you yawned, rubbing at your eyes.

“Are you sleepy honey?”

You nodded, looking up at him, 

“Daddy I thought we were going to come here tomorrow, with mom and Mina.” you said as you hugged the huge teddy bear you had brought with you when your father had woken you up and told you that you would be taking a small trip to the cabin.

“We are,” he said, “We will go back home after our hunt is done here.”

“Yeah but mom says Mina and I can’t be outside the cabin at night,” you murmured, “The lake is too close, remember? We might fall in, she says.”

“She’s right, no leaving the cabin by yourself when it’s dark outside,” he said, “Or else no chocolate for a week, you know the rules.”

“Okay, okay…” you yawned again, and your father knelt down so that you could look him in the eye.

“Petal honey, I want you to pay attention,” he said, “Look around. Let’s say you’re in the woods by yourself and you’re hunting. You know how we hunt, right?”

You took a deep breath, “Stab the prey, twist the knife, pull it back and watch them bleed.”

“Very good,” he said, “When you’re hunting in the woods, what’s the first thing you do?”

“Look up at the sky,” you said, “That’s how I know where I am.”

“Good start. How about if your prey is running to get away from you? How do you chase them?”

“People aren’t calm when they’re being hunted,” you repeated what he had told you, “They make noises. I follow that, and wait for them to tire themselves out.”

He nodded, then you both climbed the stairs to the front door of the cabin.

“And what’s the one thing you remember?”

“To stay calm and patient.”

He smiled at you and opened the door to the cabin so that you could see the bloodied person tied to a chair, screaming through the gag.

“Good,” he said, “Let’s go over what we do with the prey, shall we?”

“Y/N!” Spencer’s voice cut through the memory, almost grabbing you and pulling you back to the reality and it was only when you realized you weren’t standing anymore, instead you were on the ground on your knees, gasping for breath.

“I can’t—“ you choked out, pressing a hand over your chest “I—I can’t breathe—“

“Yes you can,” he helped you sit and lean your back to the tree trunk, “You just need to focus on me, alright? Can you breathe with me?”

You sniffled, trying to match your breathing with his and he nodded,

“There you go,” he said with a smile, “You’re doing great. Is it okay if I touch you?”

You nodded your head, still desperate to cling to anything that would protect you from that memory and he entwined his fingers with you.

“Keep your focus on me,” he said as he wiped the teardrop off your cheek with his free hand,  awakening a fire right beneath your cheekbone, “Here’s what we’re going to do, you will inhale when I squeeze your hand, exhale when I stop. Can we do that together?”

You inhaled when you felt his grip tightening around your hand, then exhaled when it became loose again.

“Y/N?”

You let out a shaky breath, “Hm?”

“Why are public proposals so bad?”

A teary laugh escaped from your lips, “Professor…”

“No, I want you to tell me,” he said as you inhaled again when he squeezed your hand, “Why are they so bad?”

“Because they—“ you exhaled, “They’re not private.”

“They could be romantic.”

“But they’re not,” you protested, “They’re not romantic. They’re pretentious.”

“Pretentious?” he squeezed your hand once more and you took another breath.

“If you need an audience for something like that, you’re pretentious yeah.” You said as the nausea slowly retreated and he pushed your hair behind your ear before his knuckles brushed over your neck, it lasted only a moment but it was enough for you.

“Thanks,” you mumbled and he offered you a small smile.

“Anytime.”

“Brings back the memories, huh?” you leaned your head back to the tree trunk and he nodded.

“Yeah,” he murmured, “Yeah it really does.”

You pressed your lips together, “Spencer, why are you helping me?” you asked him, taking him by surprise, “With….all this. I thought you hated me.”

He swallowed thickly,

“I can’t hate you,” his voice was almost a murmur, “I wish I could. Trust me, I tried.”

“Guys?” you heard Luke’s voice and you turned your head to see them approaching, “What’re you—what happened?”

“We’ll meet you there in a second,” Spencer said, shooting JJ a look and she nodded.

“Okay,” she said, “Come on Luke.”

They walked past you to the cabin and you looked up at the sky for a couple of seconds before willing yourself to focus on him again.

“You remembered something,” he said and you nodded.

“A memory,” you managed to say, “I…Spencer, there are dead bodies in there.”

“I know, we found bones in the backyard—“

“No,” you cut him off, “You don’t understand. There are dead bodies in the cabin.”

He pulled his brows together and you pulled your hand out of his before standing up on shaky legs, still holding onto the tree for support.

“Y/N, we can wait-” he said but you shook your head and made your way to the cabin until you reached the stairs. Every cell in your body was screaming at you to run away, but you managed to force yourself to climb the stone stairs and stopped for a moment at the door as Spencer stepped to stand next to you. Everything looked exactly the same as you had left them all those years ago right before your father was arrested.

A shudder went down your spine, the same as the one you had gotten when you woke up in your apartment after being drugged. Something in here was way too dangerous for you and it wouldn’t rest until you were at its mercy so you had to get away before it could dig its claws under your skin, but-

You had to do this. You could do this.

You had been through much worse than this before.

You had survived your father, you had survived his copycats, you had survived everything thrown your way so far, you could survive this as well.

You rolled your shoulders back and stepped into the huge living room, the memory pushing at your mind but you shook your head, forcing yourself to focus.

“We can leave if you want,” Spencer murmured and you dug your fingernails into your palms hard enough to hurt.

There was a reason why police couldn’t find anything in this goddamn place when they first checked. You had repressed the memory just like you had repressed the rest, and now that you were here…

The memories about the cabin were swirling in your head, each more terrifying than other.

“Luke.”

Luke turned his head, “Yeah?”

“Do you mind stepping aside for a moment?” you asked, “Actually, if no one could—if no one could stand on the rug that’d be ideal. Thanks.”

JJ shot you a look but nodded at the two other agents walking around the living room and you slowly approached the magnetic chess board by the coffee table, holding out your hand over the pieces for a second. Panic roared through you but you gritted your teeth and moved the pawn, then put the bishop where your father taught you to put it way back then.

“It’ll be like a treasure hunt, but you need to keep it a secret,” he had told you, “Pinky swear?”

You turned the queen in hand your for a moment, then put it right next to the bishop and the small basement trapdoor which was impossible to see even if someone was looking for it clicked under the rug. Spencer froze for a moment before he and Luke pulled the rug off the floor and pulled open the hatch but the smell coming from downstairs made you cover your mouth.

“Stay here,” Luke told the agents as he went downstairs and Spencer followed him right before JJ did. You stalled there for a moment, trying to repress the fear pinning you to your spot before you stepped closer to the stairs leading down to the secret basement.

“Miss—“ the agent said but you ignored him and made your way down. JJ and Spencer already had their flashlights on as Luke held his gun, ready to pull the trigger at any unexpected movement.

“You can’t be here.” Spencer told you but you weren’t even mood to snap back at him. You dragged your fingertips on the wall until you found the switch and turned the light on, the smell getting worse and worse.

There were three huge boxes by the wall, all tightly shut and you had a feeling—

No, not a feeling. What you had was a memory and you knew exactly what was in them.

Spencer turned to you, apparently ready to tell you to go upstairs again but as soon as his eyes caught something over your shoulder, he froze, his jaw clenching. You could feel your heartbeat getting faster and faster as Luke stopped dead on his tracks.

“Y/N, go upstairs.” Spencer said, his tone way too controlled until you turned your head, “No wait, don’t look—“

But it was too late. The bloodied message on the wall made you gasp as you took a step back, unable to look away as that familiar dread filled you once more, the simple line causing goosebumps to rise on your skin;

Welcome home Petal.

                                 Chapter 21 

[hatchetfield-bang]

Ethan Lives Forever

Author: Marc @emothenerd​ (AO3) (Instagram)

Artist: Arthur (Instagram)

Artist: Madd @warriorblood1​

Rating: Explicit / TV-MA / R

Pairings: General fic // Ethan Green & Miss Holloway, Ethan Green & Hannah Foster, Ethan Green & Tony Green

Warnings: Lung-related Terminal Illness, Major Character Death, Blood & Gore, Graphic Depictions of Death & Injury, Mental Illness (Depression & PTSD), Memory Loss, Drinking & Drugs (Mentioned not Shown), Suicide, Car Accidents

Ethan has been coughing a lot lately. He chalks it up to the cigarettes, then to karma, but when he finally spots blood, he knows it's over. After seeking comfort in Miss Holloway's diner, Ethan finds time missing, not that he's surprised. It's happened before. What is new, though, is the feeling of eyes on him and suddenly being unable to die.

In a twist of fate, Ethan is driven away from Hatchetfield and towards California by himself. But when he comes back, things have changed. Lex is in jail, Pamela is dead, and Hannah is now in foster care. Pizza Pete's is a corporation and either it or CCRP seem to own almost every building on the island. The only place left untouched is Miss Retro's.

To make matters worse, no one seems to recognize Ethan or even remember him. In his desperate attempt to help, will he fix Hatchetfield? Or destroy it?

(Art teaser by Arthur)

(Art teaser by Madd)

Excerpt below the cut!

"Thanks, Ethan. That really helped."

Ethan looked up at the smiling face of one Miss Holloway. They'd first met when she was looking into vintage cars at his dad's shop, not too long after his mother passed. Holly was a comforting presence in a time of need, providing outside nurturing that his father could not. When she opened Miss Retro's, he started making occasional trips, just enjoying the atmosphere for a sweet hour or so. It wasn't uncommon, though, for them to talk — mainly about himself and the Fosters, but occasionally about Duke — until after all the other patrons had left.

It also wasn't uncommon for Ethan to suddenly notice that the two were alone in the diner and that his plate was miraculously clean of any pie that it started with, like now. Holloway would thank him for their talk, which he didn't remember, and look like a weight was lifted off her shoulders. He remembered that he used to confess the gap in memory with embarrassment, but not if she ever responded to it. Eventually, he stopped mentioning it at all.

"No problem, Miss H," Ethan smiled, then broke down into coughs. He hated the fucking coughing, especially now that he was hurt. Just breathing made his body ache, but the coughing was the worst.

"You've sure been coughing a lot lately."

He grabbed a napkin, pressing it to his mouth, and choked up what he could. The sight when he removed the napkin from his mouth, though, wasn't a welcome one. He frowned at the red stain on the paper. He didn't realize he got hit that hard.

"Ethan?" Holloway looked concerned.

He stared. "Do you ever wish you could start life over?"

[queenofanime]

New Parent!?

(Atsumu Miya Writings)

Part two here

"And you remember when Shoyo-kun received that spike perfectly"

"Can you believe Kageyama still doesn't acknowledge it. Kageyama Baka, Baka!"

" Shut it human-tangerine"

"Oh, or when Ushijima hit that jumping serve in the last game?"

"It was more like a home run"

In this very moment part of the MSBY Black Jackals and part of the Schweiden Alders were having a small gathering. A little party, reminiscing high-school years and moments of youth, not that they were old or anything but oh boy, how time has changed.

The said party was being held in non other than Atsumu Miya's apartment. Being a professional Volleyball player did have its advantages, since the apartment could be considered a mansion with the latest technology.

All men were talking and laughing when the sound of the doorbell interrupted them.

"That must be the pizza!" yelled Bokuto who until now was complaining about being hungry

Lazily, Atsumu grabbed the spare change from a corner table and headed for the door.

As soon as he opened the door, his brown orbs were met with other cold brown orbs, just like a mirror; and it wasn't the pizza delivery guy.

There at the other end, stood a girl. She couldn't have been older than 16 really. The air she radiated was vaguely familiar. Her clothes were messy and disheveled. Her hair unkept.

"May I help you?" asked the blonde. His eyebrows scrunching down in confusion.

The girl didn't respond, in fact, she just stood there analyzing him, taking in every detail. Her gaze roamed from one feature to another. Letting out a sigh, she then took a crumbled paper out of her dirty torn up backpack and handed it to him.

Atsumu seemed to hesitate for a second. Fidgeting with the paper, he took in the information that was handed to him. Since the paper was a little deteriorated, the writing was hard to read, but ultimately he understood the gist of it. The paper was non other than a birth certificated and a parental blood test.

His breath grew heavy, his hands trembled ever so slightly. He shifted his vision to the girl once again, looking for any sign of a prank or joke, but he was only met with a poker face.

"...Hey dad"

Was the last thing he heard before passing out.

***

Of course, after the commotion the twin had just pulled, the six people left in the living room went to check up on his friend immediately, and were met with quite a sight.

A grown ass man spread in the floor completely knocked out and a teenage girl (who resembled the grown ass man) holding her laughter to the best of her abilities and failing miserably.

The pizza long forgotten.

***

Time seemed irrelevant. Atsumu was sited in the head chair of the dining room staring directly at the child who was sited in the opposite side of the table. Her gaze never wavering. Both of them subconsciously began a silent staring contest. Neither one of them backing out. This only made Atsumu realize that the girl was just as competitive and a sore loser like himself.

A few minutes passed before he broke contact with her to see the crumbled paper spread out in his hand.

What in fact was killing the man was the simple fact that he could not remember the child's mother. He remembered knowing she was pregnant. He remembers telling her to abort it. He remembers the fight, the tears and the yelling. Yet... he can't seem to remember her. Looking back, he was only 17, so of course his sense of responsibility was nowhere to be seen. Oh but karma never seems to forget does it.

Tension was high in the air. Bokuto and Hinata were sited in the table as well. Even with their social skills and bubbly personalities they didn't seem to know what to say.

Hoshiumi, Ushijima and Kageyama were siting in the living room, trying to avoid whatever the hell was happening. Still the tension was very much present.

As for Sakusa; he was minding his own business in the kitchen. Preparing a peanut-jelly sandwich for Bokuto who was still starving.

"You have no idea who is my mother do you?" (Y/n) finally spoke.

Atsumu narrowed his eyes at this. She had seen through him quite easily. But admitting, that in fact, he didn't even remember her name was a no no. "I do know who your mother is. How horrible of a human being do you think I am."

"Define horrible." remarked the girl. "Now, what's the name of my mother?"

By now, everybody was looking at Atsumu. Hinata even had pleading eyes. Praying that his team setter knew the name of said woman. With a defeated and frustrated sigh, the man openly admitted the truth. (Y/n) snorted at this.

"Her name was Ava Kim" She then stated. The setter scrunch his eyebrows at this revelation. God, how could he forget Ava. Such a simple name. Plus she was beautiful and hot.

Sakusa perked his ear at the use of past tense. "Was?" He then proceed to ask.

"She's dead." Without even bothering to look at him, the girl responded with a straight face. "Died 11 years ago."

Regret, sorrow, guilt, you name it. Miya Atsumu was feeling every overwhelming emotion. He didn't even knew that Ava had died.

"You are just 16 and your mother died when you were 5, what the hell were you doing?" Asked Kageyama, a little too blunt.

"Foster care, but you wouldn't know how that feels now would ya?" Answered (Y/n) with the same bluntest as him. "I got tiered of it, so I ran away."

This was quiet a dramatic situation, painfully awkward and incredibly frustrating. Suddenly, the doorbell rang.

"Now that must be the pizza!" yelled the owl.

"How is it, that after three peanut-butter jelly sandwich you are still hungry!?" asked Sakusa completely bewildered.

"Oh did you guys order pizza?" (Y/n) asked. A little glimpse of happiness could be seen. For the first time she seemed to let her guard down and show a little of enthusiasm. With her reaction to food, she might as well be Bokuto's secret love child.

It didn't take long for (Y/n) to devour her plate. Sad eyes, filled with petty stared at her. She must have been starving for just how long?

Obviously the party was cut short and soon everyone left, leaving a tangled, almost broken relationship behind.

"Look it's late kid. I've left a new toothbrush and some clean clothes in one of the guest rooms, which now will be your room. We can have a proper talk tomorrow."

The girl only nodded, she too was very tired. Leaving the dirty dishes in the sink, she headed up stairs without a word.

[suchalonelysunflower]

Wedding Bells (l.h)

Pairing: Luke Hemmings x Fem!Reader

Summary: The happiest day of your life is the worst day on Luke’s life. Could there still be a happy ending if he’s not too late?

Warnings: angsty. Language and mentions of alcohol. Slander on the name Phillip (sorry to all the Phills but it’s true, look it up) Some grammar mistakes (English is not my first language, I’m sorry)

Word count: 4.9 k

Author’s note: let me guide you through my thought process: I was writing You Said Forever and accidentally got caught up on the Olivia x Joshua x sabrina drama, that lead me to the Miley x Nick x Selena drama, which lead me to the song Wedding Bells by Nick Jonas. So this is loosely based on that. Remember that Reblogs, Comments, Feedback and Likes are very important and welcomed, you don’t know how much it helps and I love to hear from you guys ❤️ Hope you like it and Happy Reading ✨🦋🌻

My materialist // wanna be part of my tag list?

His head was pounding, loudly.

Every beat sounded like an echo that ran through his whole body. Speaking of his body, goddamn how it hurt, how everything hurts.

His eyelids were closed, eyelashes stuck and tangled with each other, heavy as the sun shined through the window, begging him to get up. His mouth was also dry, he couldn’t figure out if it was because he slept with his mouth open or because he doesn’t remember the last time he drank a drop of water.

He groaned as the pounding in his head continued. A never-ending pain that matched the loud banging on the door.

“Luke! C’mon, we’re going to be late!”

Ashton's voice sounded far away as his mind was not fully awake yet. He didn’t want to be awake yet, maybe not ever again after this day.

If his eyes were awake he would roll them. Couldn’t Ashton understand that he didn’t want to go? He made it fairly obvious for the past few months! He was not going.

Luke hid his head farther in his pillow, trying to avoid any kind of contact with the outside world. But that was almost impossible as soon as he heard Ashton pick on his lock.

That bastard.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to mess with a bloke from the outsides of town?” He said with a teasing tone. Luke knew he was bluffing, his doorknob was messed up since the moment they bought the house, so it was easy to get in if you knew the right tricks with a safety pin - oh the irony of it all.

Luke mumbled something close to a word his mum wouldn’t be proud to hear. But Ashton simply ignored it as he walked towards the windows to open the curtains, letting the sun illuminate the room at its full capacity.

Ashton sighed at the sight of the room. Clothes were thrown out everywhere, the same goes with the hundred liquor and beer bottles and cans that were scattered around the floor. He grabbed the half-empty bottle of vodka that rested on the nightstand and clicked his tongue.

“You bought this yesterday,” He said, totally unimpressed. Luke didn’t answer “C’mon, buddy, up to the shower you go”

Ashton patted Luke’s back, encouraging him to get a move on, but the blonde just brought his sheets over his head and stayed put.

“Luke…”

“Mmnphf” He mumbled.

“What?” Ashton walked to the foot of the bed and grabbed the tall Australian by his legs, pulling him out of his comforter in one swift move that made Luke fall out of the bed with a thud.

“Motherfuck-“ He complained, rubbing on his bumped head, which was still pounding by the way.

“You were saying?” Ashton said with a smirk as he crouched down to be face to face with Luke, the teasing smile quickly fading away because he didn’t like what he saw at all.

The baby blue eyes that once shined with gleam were dull, red, and empty, and probably angry about his interruption. His curly blond was sticking to his forehead and his body language seemed to have given up on keeping him with a straight figure, making him physically close himself up to others.

“I said I’m not going!” His voice was hoarse due to the heavy drinking he’s been doing these past few days. He tried to sound harsh, but Ashton could easily see through his bluff. He was hurting, every part of him.

“Of course you are,” Ashton scoffed.

Luke glared at him “I’m. Not. Going” He said through gritted teeth. The drummer rolled his eyes. He’s had this conversation before and it was always the same speech.

“You are because she wants you there, so you’ll be there” Ashton stated as if that was the only reasonable answer.

Luke closed his eyes, cause he was sure that if he opened them he would punch Ashton in the mouth. Why couldn’t he understand? “I can’t go, Ash”

His voice broke at the end of the pleading, breaking Ashton’s heart in the process. He hated to see him like that; to see him throw away his life so carelessly without asking for or accepting anyone’s help. It’s not like he ignored what was happening, but he was sure this would do good for him; close cycles, help him move on, and that shit. How else could you mend a broken heart?

“And besides,” Luke continued “She doesn’t want me there” The words felt like poison in his mouth, bitter and dry “She invited you guys, you are her friends and I’m just her stupid ex”

That was a lie and he knew that. When the invitations came he made sure to throw his away before he even got to open it. Making the others believe that he wasn’t invited at all. He didn’t even tell them that you were the one who dropped them, him being unlucky enough to answer the door.

“It’s in June,” You said, eyes avoiding him “Hope you can make it”

Whatever words Luke had stuck in his throat stayed there as he swallowed the pain of seeing you standing there, inviting him to see you love someone else. All he could say was “You’ll look beautiful in white”

You practically ran away after that, leaving him alone with the invitations. Just looking at those envelopes hurt more than he could imagine. He knew this day would come eventually, he hoped he would. He just hoped that his name was engraved on paper next to yours.

“Maybe,” Said Ashton with a grin “But if she didn’t want you there then why did she ask me to RSVP for you?” Luke’s eyes widened like plates, he knew Ashton had called his bluff once again “She said you never answer yours so I did it for you. Cause she wants you there, Luke. You were her best friend, too”

Luke groaned and covered his face with his hand “Why did you do that?!” He asked with an exasperated tone, wanting to hate on the drummer but knowing that that was impossible.

“Because you need to go, mate! You can’t leave her hanging like this!”

“And what am I supposed to say?!” He yelled, he was not used to yelling but he was at the ends of his wits ``‘Oh, hey Y/N! A beautiful day isn’t it? Perfect weather to break my heart into a million pieces while you marry another guy and I’m sitting there watching, wishing I was him! I’m happy for you, though I’m really not cause I know it’s been like what? 3 years 5 months and 24 days since we broke up? but I’m still in love with you. Okay have fun?!”’

He grabbed an empty can from the floor and threw it away, hitting the door of his closet. He was beyond furious and frustrated. You were getting married and he can’t do anything to stop it; to stop you.

Ashton sighed, heartbroken by this whole ordeal “You’ve been counting?”

“Ever since that day. It was my greatest mistake and now I’m suffering from it. Karma really is a bitch. Did you know our anniversary is supposed to be in 5 days? And now it’s impossible to ever get her back”

The drummer placed a hand on Luke's shoulder, he wished he could make his pain go away. He’s never seen his friend so heartbroken before and it pained him knowing that there was nothing he could do about it.

“Luke,” He said in a fatherly tone “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. But believe when I tell you she wants you there, she misses you” Luke turned his head towards Ashton, his eyes begging him not to lie “I’m serious, she’s always asking about you but she’s too scared to talk to you thinking that you don’t want to speak to her. She needs you there, man. Not as a bitter ex and to show you she’s moved on, but as a friend. And I know for a fact you can’t say not to her, even when you’re mad”

Luke sighed. Ashton was right. He could never deny you anything, even before you were together and you were just his best friend, you were always his weakness.

He misses you too, every day since you broke up he’s been missing you. And he would be lying if he said he didn’t want to see you at least one last time, given that your last interaction was awkward as hell.

“I can’t go, Ash”

Ashton nodded with a disappointing sigh as he got up from the floor, but before he could walk out the door he heard Luke say “I can’t go because I don’t have a suit!”

Ashton smiled “I got you covered, buddy” And left the room so Luke could take a shower.

*

Ashton’s suit was itchy, but Luke was grateful that he didn’t have to show up in jeans and an old BonJovi shirt.

He was surprised to find out that they were actually on time, although he wouldn’t be surprised if someone told him that Ashton woke him up much earlier than needed to get there on time.

They met with Michael and Calum in the parking lot, they greeted each other and started talking as if Luke’s heart wasn’t about to burst from the anxiety he was feeling.

To show up at a wedding is something; to show up at your ex’s aka the love of your life’s wedding is… unsettling. He understood why his friends didn’t want to make it awkward for him, yet the awkwardness settled at the moment he stepped foot out of the car.

“She’s getting married in a church?” He asked no one in particular.

“Yeah? That’s why we are here, mate” Calum chuckled.

Luke furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. You never wanted to get married in a church or even a chappel. No, if he remembers correctly, your dream wedding was somewhere outdoors; either a park or a forest or even someone’s backyard. You used to say that love was the most beautiful and natural thing in the universe, so it was logical to celebrate something as powerful as a wedding in the eyes of nature, so it all came to be one for love and love can be one for all.

He remembers he laughed at that, not to mock you in any way, but in awe of how beautiful you put it. Everything you said sounded like poetry to him, even if you were just reading a menu in a Chinese restaurant. But now your poetry would belong to someone else, and he only hoped that that someone deserves to hear it.

He doesn’t know the groom, he believes his name was Phill? Or something like that? Ashton always said he was kind of a jerk, but you loved him enough to marry him so maybe he wasn’t that bad. But for Luke he would always be the man that stole you from him.

All three of his friends started walking inside the rustic church and Luke followed, incapable to think about anything else that wasn’t you at that moment.

However, the minute he entered the cold building he knew something was wrong.

The church was filled with people he didn’t know, he assumed they must be from the groom’s side of the family, but he would bet the 35$ Ashton left in his pocket that you didn’t know half of these people either.

You never wanted a big wedding, hell, you didn’t even want a big birthday party, no matter how much Luke insisted on it.

“Those kinds of parties are not for the ones being celebrated!” You told him once “If it was truly important then all you need is your closest friends and your found family. What else is there to love?”

Your words kept repeating themselves inside Luke’s head. What else is there to love? Indeed.

That wasn’t the only thing catching his attention though. With every step he took towards his seat he found out more things out of place, out of you.

For example, the color scheme was terrible and he knows you didn’t pick it, your favorite colors were nowhere to be seen. Then it was the flowers, if there is one thing he never forgot about you were your favorite flowers. You used to fill the house with them saying that they were your little serotonin boosters, he remembers how happy they made you and how one time he nearly bought all the flowers in the shop to surprise you when you were having a bad day. Now he cannot even look at them without thinking of you.

The more steps he took the more flawed this wedding looked. And yes, he knows that sounds bad, especially coming from him. But it was the truth. Not even the music sounded like it would come from you.

The words ‘This is not right’ Kept screaming at the back of his head.

The Y/N he knew would never choose those flowers or those colors or that guest list or that venue, nor the song that was playing over the speakers. She preferred live music over all the rest and, if she would’ve asked, she’d known that all four of them would perform for free on the happiest day of her life, even if it was the crappiest day for him.

If someone were to tell him a year ago that this is how your wedding would look, he would’ve laughed cause this is not like you. This wedding, this… charade of glamour and show.. this wasn’t you. This wasn’t Y/N. And it's supposed to be your day!

He couldn’t understand why you’d choose this? This was so unlike you, unless… unless he never really knew you at all.

And just like that, the sinking feeling of dread came upon him as he tried to figure out who was the person he knew and who are you now? What changed so much to make you lose all that you once were?

What if?

What if he knew how to love you better? He wouldn’t have let you walk away from him. He would’ve fought for you, for the two of you, instead of just giving up like he did.

Luke knew he loved you. Fuck, he still loves you like the first day. And now you are loving somebody else cause he didn’t know how to keep the most beautiful thing he ever had; the most beautiful thing he let die. He messed up, but his biggest fuck up was realizing it and doing nothing about it.

And now it was too late.

“Dude, are you okay?” Michael whispered when he noticed his friend's frown.

Luke nodded, lips pressed together in a thin line “What were you saying?”

Michael smiled with mischief “We were just laughing at how ridiculous Phillip looks. That suit does not suit him at all”

For the first time since he came, he looked over at the altar. Standing there was the so-called Phill you were going to marry. He was talking to his groomsmen and laughing obnoxiously at what seemed like an inappropriate joke. What did you see on that guy?

“Did you know the name Phillip means horse lover?” Said Calum, trying to stiff a laugh with the other two friends.

They were doing their best to keep Luke distracted and he appreciated that. But seeing the groom so unpreoccupied, so chill and uninterested made his blood boil. How could he be so at ease? If it were him, if he had the wonderful chance to marry you, he’d be a ball of anxiety. He’d be wondering just how beautiful you’d look, if you were feeling as nervous as he was, if you were as happy as he was and how he couldn’t wait to marry you… He would do all that because he will know that he is the luckiest man on earth. But that’s not his truth at all.

“I’m going to take a walk”

Neither of them told him that the ceremony was about to start or offered to accompany him. They knew he needed time and they wouldn't pressure him at all. Luke silently thanked them for that.

He walked out of the ceremony hall and started pacing around the halls, quickly getting lost as he tried to ease his mind.

How could he go through this and pretend that he’s okay? He remembered Ashton’s words from this morning and knew that if you wanted him here then he would be here, but that still didn’t make it any easier.

He would go through the ends of the earth for you if you asked him to, but this? This might be the hardest thing he has ever done, second only to let you go.

His curls were getting messy because of all the ruffling he did with his hands. He needed to pull himself together before the ceremony, he needed to seem okay in front of you. He-

The soft cries coming from behind the door caught his attention. They were hushed but they seemed completely broken. Whoever was behind that door must feel just as hopeless as he did.

“Hello?” He said, knocking on the wooden door “Hello, are you okay in there?”

The sniffing sounds stopped “Luke?”

It was quiet, almost like a whisper. But Luke would recognize your voice anywhere, especially after not hearing you say his name for 3 years.

“Y/N?”

The door opened with a click and revealed a supply closet and, inside that supply closet, there was a bride. There you were.

Luke’s breath almost disappeared as you knocked the wind out of his lungs. You looked beautiful. Stunning in your white dress. Magical as your hair was perfectly styled. Breathtaking with your waterproof makeup still intact, although you would look breathtaking without it as well. Ethereal as you looked at him and he realized that all the times that he missed you seemed small at how much he missed you now and how he would miss you all his life.

If there were any other adjectives to describe how you looked, he would take them all out of the dictionary and give them to you in the form of a song. Cause in his eyes there was no other beauty that could compare, that even the sadness in your eyes seemed to compliment your magnificent. And that was something he couldn’t ignore.

Without thinking it twice he took a couple of steps in front of you and cupped your face in his hands, wiping your tears with his thumb as he murmured: “What’s wrong, love?”

Hearing his voice so worried and soft shook something in you, something that you didn’t know you still had but at the same time knew that it would never go away.

More tears started streaming down your eyes as your gaze met his, making you get lost in those baby blue marbles.

“I- I don’t know what I’m doing, Lukey” You confessed in a whisper.

At the sound of his nickname, Luke felt like he could float away in a cloud of happiness. He thought you’ve forgotten. But the look on your face denoted a fear he hoped he’d never got to see again.

Your eyes were puffy red and your cheeks were flushed, not only because of the blush. And your eyes, they were terrified and Luke didn’t know what to do, so he just said.

“You’re getting married today” You didn’t miss the hint of sadness that laced those words. You hoped that could mean something.

You placed your hands on his wrist, holding his hands that were cupping your face and making them stay there. Right now it was the only comfort you got.

“I don’t know if I should-“ You choke out a sob “Luke, I’m scared- I’m so scared”

“Do you love him?” The words pained him, cutting right through his heart. But you and him were here for a reason, and that reason was waiting at the altar.

He secretly prayed that you would say no, that you would beg him to take you away and run away together, maybe elope somewhere far away and not come back to this place ever again.

He saw the hesitation in your eyes and he knew his answer.

“Y/N, I love-“

“There you are!”

Luke closed his eyes in annoyance when he felt his words get stuck in his throat as the stranger’s voice came closer to them. You quickly pulled away from him and that only made his heart break more than it already was.

“We’ve been looking for you everywhere!” Said one of the bridesmaids Luke has never seen before, he assumed that it was from the side of the groom as well, just like everything else “The ceremony is about to start, we need to go now!”

She quickly grabbed you by the wrist and practically draged you to the ceremony hall.

You were desperate. Your pleading eyes searched for Luke, begging for him to do something. But what could he do now? His shocking state left him standing right there with his eyes glued to your figure being dragged away somewhere he didn’t know you wanted to be. It all happened so fast that the only thing he could think of was that this might be the last chance he’s got to see you and all he could do was stare into your pretty eyes cloud with fear and tears.

‘Here comes the bride’ started playing through the speakers of the church and Luke clenched his fists to his side. You hated this song.

He went back to his seat minutes after the ceremony started. His three best friends were looking at him with curiosity and a thousand questions in their minds. They knew the minute that they saw you come in that those tears were not of happiness and, judging by Luke’s hard, emotionless face, he had something to do with it.

Throughout the whole ceremony, Luke couldn’t stop staring at you. It was eating him inside the fact that he knew you didn’t want this and yet you were still going through it. He couldn’t understand why. He is losing you right before his eyes and he couldn’t take that.

He knew that the moment you say ‘I do’ would be the moment his soul would die forever.

“Luke?”

He knew something was wrong. He knew it the moment he parked the car in a freaking church and your eyes filled with tears just confirmed it to him.

“Luke, are you okay?” Michael whispered once again, concerned about the white knuckles on his best friend’s fists.

He loves you. He loves you so fucking much and he can’t let you do this.

He won’t let you do this.

“If anyone can show just cause why this couple cannot lawfully be joined together in matrimony, let them speak now or forever hold their peace"

“Fuck it,” Luke said before standing up.

In one second, all eyes were on him. He could feel the stares of strangers, the judgy whispers of the families, and even the shit-eating grins from his best friends sitting beside him. But all his attention was on you. On you and your relieved face.

“I object to this union,” He said in a firm voice that overshadowed the murmurs, leaving everyone completely quiet.

He could see your eyes clouding with tears and the way your lips seemed to be saying his name in one breath. That was all he needed to keep going.

Luke took a few steps to the side, walking until he ended up in the middle of the aisle, looking at you and only you.

“Y/N, I love you,” He said, earning a few gasps from the public “I love you since the day I met you, the day I first asked you to be mine, and even on the day I lost you. I was an idiot who didn’t know how to take care of the magic we created and decided that it was best to let it go before it went out of hand. But you, you always believed in magic; you always believed in me and, Y/N that’s why I’m here telling you that I am still in love with you. And that you are making a big mistake here, just like I did when I lost you. But we are still on time to make everything right.

This, however, is not right and you know it. Where are you in all of this? Do they know your favorite flowers or that your favorite song includes a swear word? Do they know the way you take your coffee or your favorite colors? Do they know how much you love to dance, especially when no one is watching?

I know you, baby. I know you enough to say with certainty that this is not what you wanted. I know how much you love rain and how you wish time would stop every time you take a shower so it could last longer. I know that you cry during every movie, even if they have a happy ending because you always believed in them. I know you never want to break someone’s heart so you are willing to take the hurt as long as the other person is okay. I know that my biggest regret is losing you, cause you are the only thing I got right in my life.

You are life, fire, spark, patience, and love. You are the kindest person on earth and you deserve so much more than this world could give. No one deserves you, darling but I would spend the rest of my days trying to.

I’m in love with you Y/N L/N. Please, don’t- don’t marry him”

Luke’s eyes were watery as he swallowed down a sob on the last part of his speech. His eyes never left yours for a second as his body visibly shook with anxiety and fear, waiting for your answer.

You, on the other hand, were smiling through the tears “I love you too, Luke” You said loud enough for all to hear, and Luke felt like he could breathe again, a smile growing wide as he let a few tears roll down his eyes.

You ran down the aisle to his arms, fully sinking into them as you wrapped your arms around his waist. Luke’s chuckle reverberated through his chest as he picked you up and spun you around in your wedding dress, finally putting you down and looking right into your eyes, now clouded with happy tears.

“I told you you were going to look beautiful in white”

He kissed you with all the love he had in his heart. It was honest, pure, and filled with happiness as the two lovers finally reunite, making the entire church erupted in cheers.

The groom, however, didn't share that excitement. He was fuming red as he started walking towards Luke with his groomsmen, calling you derogatory names as he was ready to start a fight.

“Oh, fuck no” Said Calum, walking down to the middle of the aisle along side Ashton and Michael, creating a safe distance between the two of you and the fight that was about to start. Phillip was not happy, but before he could give the first punch Calum’s fist was already on his face, making him tumble back with a bloody nose “Take that horse lover!”

All hell broke loose in the middle of church as punches were thrown carelessly. The three Australians seemed to be winning the fight with ease, beating the asses of your now ex-fiancé and his friends.

The public was too distracted by the fight to notice how you walked away from the aisle as you cheered on your friends to kick their kneecaps. Luke took your hand and pulled you towards him, still laughing as he began tugging on it for you to follow, and so you did.

You ran as fast as you could, leaving everyone behind without a second thought. The only thing in your mind being the love you had for each other and how you won’t take it for granted this time.

“I love you,” He said as you reached the car, placing his hands at the side of your waist and leaning in for a kiss filled with adrenaline “I fucking love you, Y/N”

You wrapped your hands around his neck and kissed him back with all the love you kept from him during all these years “I love you too, Luke. We are meant for forever”

“Forever and beyond”

It was a crazy sight from every point of view. The man with the messy hair and the girl in a wedding dress kissing in the middle of a church parking lot while the guests all peered from the entrance of the building, four of them bleeding through their nose with tears in their black eyes, and three of them with their clothes all messed up and sweaty, smiling triumphantly as they watched their friends live their love again.

With one last kiss, Luke helped you get inside the car and he quickly got to the other side, starting the engine just in time to hear the bells chime. Marking the start of your real happily ever after with the love of your life.

.

Tags: @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @mystic-232 @talksoprettyjjx @theshyspy @sarcasticallywitty15 @hoodhoran @flaneurcth @notinthesameguey @myloverboyash

[sithapprenticemaul]

Hunter ; Hunted

summary: Din thought this would be a simple hunt, that he would succeed where others had failed - he was wrong. Din Djarin has met his match.

word count: 1.5k

pairing: Din Djarin x Sherrif!Reader

warnings: a brief fight, mentions of bruising and cuts

a/n: I was literally cuddling my cat when I got the inspiration for this. reader is so sassy and this is gonna be a slow burn. part one of four or five i think. also my first reader insert which i was so nervous to write bc I've never written like this before. please let me know what you think!

When Greef Karga slid the tracking puck across the table, he had warned Din of the challenge of this bounty. Brushing it off without a second thought, Din eagerly accepted, the staggering amount credits offered worth whatever trouble he could possibly get into. This was an Imperial bounty, and the money would greatly help The Tribe. The small village was out in the middle of nowhere, the nearest spaceport being a three-day journey away by speeder, even longer on foot. Din left the Razor Crest hidden safely in the nearby mountains and made the rest of the journey on foot to not be spotted. The element of surprise was key in his work. Humans and aliens of various races traversed the small village, going about their daily lives. Children played, vendors sold, creatures barked and brayed. None seemed fazed at the sudden appearance of an outsider, let alone one clad so heavily in armour. That should have been Din’s first clue that this hunt was not going to go the way he intended. Din approached the weathered tavern with annoyance and frustration in his stride. He was tired, sweat dripping down his back, the Tatooine twin suns baking him in his protective second skin. He stopped just outside the door, the thrum of the taverns patrons inside making its way to his ears. Taking a moment of respite in the shade of the awning, he readied himself for the challenge ahead of him. He swung the door open, and for one of the few times in his life as a bounty hunter, no one turned to look at him. No stares, no hushed whispers or folk scurrying out of his sight. Just lively chatter of folk enjoying food and drink and the whipping of the wind behind him. The Tavern was dark and dusty, just as one would expect from any building on Tatooine. Din’s target was sitting right in the middle of the bar. He could feel eyes watching him now, but no one made a move to stop him as he approached her. You sighed deeply as you heard the door swing open. You’d fought off many credit hungry hunters who had tried to drag you to your doom before - this would be no different. The floor creaked under Din as he stopped just a few steps behind his bounty, curious as to the events that would unfold. It wasn’t common for him to have bounties that wouldn’t put up at least a little bit of a fight. That should have been Din’s second clue. “At least let me finish my soup”, you said slowly, your voice not betraying the anxiety coursing through you. “This is the best that Kintara has made in a long time.” You winked at the bar tending Pa'lowick in front of you as you tipped your head back and slurped down the last of your lunch. Setting the bowl down in front of you gently and wiping your mouth with your sleeve, you lazily swung yourself around to look at whatever bounty hunting sleemo had come through your town this time. Leaning back casually, you took in the sight of the man before you. He was tall, armour in varying shades of brown covering most of his body, a shining silver helmet hiding away his face. His hand was gently trained on the blaster on his left hip. The Amban sniper rifle was still strapped to his back, indicating this was not meant to be a long and drawn out fight. He wanted this done quick. He made no move toward you - yet. The hubbub in the tavern continued as you and the Mandalorian stared each other down, neither of you giving an inch. And then he spoke. “Don’t make this any harder than it needs to be.” The corners of your mouth lifted ever so slightly at the vocoded words - typical bounty hunter, always assuming the oncoming struggle would be difficult on you. You, the poor helpless bounty that would help to line his pockets. “I’m not going anywhere, Hunter.” you spoke coolly. “I suggest,” you started as you rose from the barstool, “that you get going before you regret stepping foot in my town.” “Not going to happen. You’re coming with me, warm or cold.” he replied shortly, his voice betraying no hint of what emotion he was feeling. His body was tensed, rigid, awaiting your next move. Din couldn’t help but feel a little fascinated by his bounty and her sheer defiance in the face of danger. What had she seen in her life when a trained Mandalorian did not frighten her? Din frightened everyone. You smoothed out your tunic as you stood, subtly uncovering the blaster in its holster on your hip. You were just a few steps from the hunter. You stepped closer, taunting him into his next move, eyes unwavering. Din kept his eyes on you, suddenly becoming aware of the silence that filled the room but unable to tear his gaze from you. His third clue. He grasped his blaster in anticipation. Someone was about to get shot. You drew up to your full height at the sight of the hunter’s hand on his blaster, your eyes betraying the fury and irritation you now felt. You would not be intimidated by this outworlder on your planet, in your town and in your bar. Especially not during lunch. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you....” In a fraction of a second all hell broke loose. Tables and chairs were knocked over; glasses and plates smashed as the patrons of the bar drew their hidden weapons, taking aim at the Mandalorian from all around him. You knew better than anyone that at this close range he was going to hit you, you at least made sure the blaster bolt wasn’t going between your eyes. You twisted your body and dove to the floor as the bolt hit you in the right shoulder, stinging outrageously before you landed amongst the wreckage on the floor.

Din didn’t have a chance to fire again, his blaster falling from his hand as he held them up in helplessness as someone behind him kicked him to his knees. He was cornered, guns, knives, and other makeshift weapons at every angle around him. While his armour could protect him from a range of weapons, it would do nothing to save him from the knife dangerously close to piercing his body between his armour plating. Had he known the whole town was armed he would have brought more weapons. You hauled yourself up, hissing at the pain as you palm your injured shoulder to stem the bleeding. Another shirt ruined. You stagger back to the centre of the room to get a better look at your assailant. Din was doing his best not to panic, a task made increasing difficulty with all the sharp objects being pressed into his body. He could feel a makeshift blade digging in dangerously close to his rib cage. The bartender, Kintara, had a rifle aimed, not at his head, but at the unprotected flesh between his head and his shoulders, covered only by a few layers of fabric. “I say we kill him now and toss his body in the pit and be back before dinner,” grumbled a voice from behind him. He dared not say a thing, waiting for you to make the next move. He was a Mandalorian, a proud warrior, a fine bounty hunter and he would not resort to bargaining for his life...yet. “Easy Karma. Let’s find out what our trigger-happy friend here knows first,” you spoke clearly for all to hear. An order disguised as a suggestion. You were the law around here. He watched as you sauntered over to him, cradling your injured shoulder, equal parts furious, amused and intrigued at the events that had just unfolded. Din’s breath caught in his throat as you got the closest you had been, crouching down to his level. This was his first real chance to look at you, the woman he was to bring in.

You were beautiful, like a sunrise to be seen nowhere else in the galaxy, or so Din thought. Your hair was dishevelled, yet your face was girlishly aglow with accomplishment, despite the few cuts and bruises forming from your brief brawl.

Your eyes had a mischievous twinkle as you fluttered your eyelashes cheekily at the captive Mandalorian. Your mouth held that familiar small smile. He recognised that smile. It was one he wore many times after a successful hunt.  It was the smile of a predator who had cornered its prey.

“Knock him out and bring me Nebala. I’ll deal with this one myself,” you spoke calmly, standing to your full height and surveying the damage to your bar.

Din didn’t have a chance to protest before a dart hit him in the neck and he slumped with a thud to the floor.

[stellarboystyles]

Make a Move

Harry’s a bartender and she’s a waitress, a match made in heaven. That is, if they weren’t constantly pining over each other like idiots.

4.2k !

She and Harry closed almost every weekend.

Why? Because there wasn’t really anyone else that was willing, so they’re always picking up slack. They were even more short staffed before Y/N came along, and given that she was the only waitress who actually gave a shit about her job, she was always the first choice whenever someone called in sick or quit unexpectedly, which, unfortunately for her, was quite often. Not that she’s complaining, because she and Harry always work the same shifts so it’s always fun. She was so kind to every customer but as soon as any of them were crossing a line she’d be the first one to tell them to back off. Harry was the best bartender on the strip, and everyone local knows it, too. Word travels fast, and his drinks speak for themselves. They make a great team. The rest of their co workers claim that the pair always get better tips, and even though they aren’t wrong, Harry and y/n like to indulge in the private joke that maybe if everyone else didn’t do their job half ass then maybe they’d get the tips that they get every night. Their boss is lucky to have both of them working for him. 

But Harry was just as lucky to be working there. 

That’s exactly what it was. Pure luck. 

When Harry’s mum Anne told her husband that she was pregnant with him, he promised her that he was going to change and be home more often, for them. And he kept his promise, for a while. Harry was such an easy baby, easy going and hardly ever cried. However, three months later things swiftly took a turn when she quickly realised that he was going to be a colicky baby. Seeing her little baby boy in pain, screaming and inconsolable just simply broke her heart, but it just meant that he needed a little more attention. She’d quickly learned his favorite remedy was a warm bath and a comfy swaddle, followed by some cuddles and he’d be right back off to sleep. She still thinks the reason that they’re still so close now is because of that extra bonding time. 

Harry’s dad had always been distant from him. He was never home, And when he was, he wanted Anne’s full attention, and when he wasn’t getting that anymore, because, you know, she was busy raising an infant by herself, he grew selfishly jealous of the child that he created. When he hit her in front of her son, that was it. She made the split decision that she didn’t want this life for Harry, or for her. She waited until he fell asleep that night, packed what she could, took her baby and left. Moved to London and never saw or heard from him again.

Harry was six years old when his mum first got sick. It started out as headaches and a fever that would come and go, but it got worse. To be specific, an autoimmune disease that was attacking her muscles and joints. It got so bad that she couldn’t even brush her hair, let alone take proper care of a six year old. Long story short, Harry learned quickly and at a young age how to take care of himself. when Harry wasn’t in school all he wanted to do was take care of her. He’d always wake up early on the weekends and make her second favorite breakfast...waffles. Her first favorite was pancakes, but he couldn’t make those, only because he knew that his mummy said the stove wasn’t safe and that he couldn’t use it by himself, because he could burn his fingers. 

Three years go by and things are really tough. Anne could no longer work, so without her knowledge, Harry began to improvise. He started selling some of his toys to his friends at school during playtime. By the time almost all of his toys were gone he’d managed to gain thirty five dollars, and he was so proud of himself. But when he saw one of the medical bills totals on the kitchen counter, he knew he was going to have to try something else. Every monday his mum gave him five dollars to pay for lunch at school for the whole week. So instead of eating lunch, he kept it in his backpack with the other thirty five. His friends always shared their lunch with him so that he wouldn’t go hungry all day, and no one ever found out. Week by week the amount seemed to add up quickly. Before he knew it it was the end of the school year he had one hundred and ninety five dollars. He counted it twice just to be sure, but it didn’t matter because it still wasn’t enough.

He was sad, extremely sad and angry. Three more years go by and his mum is in the hospital recovering from surgery. He couldn’t help feeling so many things all at once. His mum was his best friend, why on earth was this happening to her, to him? 

One afternoon Harry was walking home from school. It was gloomy and dreary, typical London weather. He wanted to get home faster so he could get to the hospital to see her, so he chose to make a quick shortcut down an alley to his left. As he walked he noticed a group of boys older than him, maybe fourteen or fifteen, on the side of the alley. Before he could turn around or walk past them, of course, they surrounded him. It felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest.

He was getting jumped.

“I-I haven’t got anything.”

One of them held his arms in a tight grasp whilst another one yanked the backpack off his shoulders, dumping the contents, including the wads of cash, onto the asphalt.

“Ooh, what do we have here?”

Harry’s eyes instantly widened, struggling with all the strength in his body, desperately trying to get free. He couldn’t let them do this.

“No! Please, please don’t. I’ll do anything you want, but I need that money!”

“So do we.”

A fist landed against his cheek and before he knew it he was on the ground being beaten senseless.

“It’s not for me!” he tried, throwing his hands up in front of his face in an attempt to defend himself. “It’s for my mum, she’s sick.”

“Hey! How many times have I told you to quit causin’ trouble back ‘ere?!”

Harry was wide eyed as he saw a man, probably a store owner since he came around the back corner. They quickly ran off empty handed. The man’s face changed from angry to bewildered as he saw Harry’s face.

And as if on fucking cue, it started to rain. Pour, actually.

“No, no, no…”

Harry scrambles to his knees and crawls forward, trying to salvage the dampened green paper, shoving it back into his backpack.

“Are you alright?!”

That was the moment that Harry’s life changed forever. 

The man, who Harry quickly learned was named Joe, did more than just clean up the young boy’s bloody face. They started talking and Harry told him everything. About his father, the piling medical bills, everything—and in that moment Joe knew he had to help him. 

Every day after that, after school Harry would go to Joe’s bar and work for him. Small jobs—sweep the floor, clean the tables, things like that. He took Harry in, looked after him when his mum couldn’t and gave him advice like the father he’d never had. 

The day Harry turned seventeen was the day his mum was officially in remission. Harry had been saving every single penny he’d made over the last five years, which was enough to really help out with their situation until his mum could go back to work. He was over the moon, he didn’t think he’d ever see the day that she’d be feeling like herself again. 

Harry didn’t really plan on going to college because even if his mum was better, he always wanted to be able to visit and check on her. After he graduated, he moved into the apartment upstairs above the bar, and the rest is history.

And that leads us to now. Four years later at twenty one Harry is everyone’s favorite bartender, who's crushing hard on this truly one of a kind girl that walked into his life only a few months ago, and he can’t remember what life was like without her in it. 

Despite how the job sounds, they both loved every second of it. Especially when they worked together. When they weren’t busy, they were constantly messing with each other, usually it was him teasing her whenever she tripped over her own feet, almost spilling a plate or glass and when she’d come back behind the bar he’d be smirking “y’not drunk are yeh?” and she’d mumble a “shut up.” making him chuckle. 

But they were incredibly soft for each other, there was no way around it. 

One time, Harry called in sick, and if he would’ve seen the look of disappointment mixed with sadness on her face, he might have just said fuck it and came in to work just to make her happy or at least see her smile, despite the food posioning. 

That’s what she did to him. All rationale was lost, even if it was just for a moment. 

When he came back, his co-workers filled him in, telling him that she was all sad and pouting through the whole shift. It made his heart ache, made him want to kiss the pout right off her lips, 

because her lips were so pretty. 

But it also made his heart beat a little faster. 

He caught himself staring more and more as the months went by, their friendship torturing him day by day. It was truly a sick joke—being her friend but not being able to feel her soft skin under his touch, kiss her anywhere, anytime he wanted. 

Was this karma? What did he do to deserve this?

He’s never been a day dreamer, until now. She’s in his head all the time and he can’t stop thinking about what his life would be like if he could just muster up enough confidence to tell her that he loves the way she pushes her hair behind her ears, or how he’s been dying to kiss her since she walked in the door on her first day. 

He remembers that day like it was yesterday. 

***

Harry was wiping down the bar, cell phone cradled between his ear and shoulder as he listened to his boss tell him about his newest hire being a new waitress.

“Hope this one sticks.” he mumbled, a small smirk appearing on his face as he dried off the inside of one of the glasses. “M’not gettin’ paid to wait tables, Joe.”

“Oh piss off, I’m payin’ you more than that.” a laugh was shared between the two before he continued.

“She’s already been trained, but it’s her first day by herself, so be nice.”

“M’always nice. It’s those other vultures you’ve got to worry about.” 

Harry wasn’t exaggerating. The other waitresses were like wild animals, they’d either attack you or try to have sex with you. 

“Just look out for her, will you? Don’t want her bein’ eaten alive on her first day and then she’s too scared to come back.”

“I’m sure she’ll be fine, I’ll keep y’updated. Have fun on your holiday.”

“Thanks again for taking care of everything, I really appreciate it.”

“S’the least I could do after all you’ve done for me.” the humor in his voice slowly faded, his tone becoming more serious.

Don’t get soft on me now.” his response to Harry’s sentiment makes him chuckle.

“Okay, okay. But m’serious, don’ know where I’d be without your help.”

When he hung up the phone, as if on fucking cue, he hears the front door open. 

***

Everything about her was perfect. Her hair looked like silk, even if it was tied back while she was working with some baby hairs falling around her face. Her skin was flawless—he loves it when she doesn’t wear any makeup, like today. He found her rosy cheeks and naturally long eyelashes to be undeniably adorable. 

“H?” 

His head snapped up at her voice. It was sweet, like the sugar he always puts on the rim of her glass when he makes her mojitos some nights after they close up. Harry thinks he’d do anything she wanted if she asked him nicely.

“Earth to Harry.” she jokingly waves her hand in front of his face. “It’s almost two.”

“Oh, shit. Wasn’t even lookin’ a’ the time.” he chuckled. “Thanks, love.”

“No problem.” Her cheeks were splashed with pink, looking at her shoes before turning to walk away. 

To this day, Harry doesn’t know what on earth possessed him to do this. But for some reason, three words popped into his head.

Make a move.

“Hey.” he stops her from walking away by taking her hand and pulling her towards him.

“What?” she giggles as she turns her head to look at him. 

“C’mere.”

The look on his face was giving her butterflies. He blinked slowly, a small smile curved across his lips.

“Got a new drink idea, can I try it out on ya?”

She lets out a nervous giggle before nodding her head. 

She felt like an idiot because she really thought that he was going to kiss her. She wanted to feel his lips on her lips, her skin. And god, did he want to kiss her. He felt like an idiot because that wasn’t really a move. He wanted to kiss her, so fucking bad but he got nervous. How couldn’t he? She was his friend, and so, so beautiful. What if she didn’t want to be more than friends? It was a scary thought, rejection. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin their friendship, he cared about her too much to ruin that. Wouldn’t it be awkward, if things didn’t work out, or she didn’t want him in the first place, and they still had to work together? Harry just might have to crawl under a rock.

But she wore her heart on her sleeve, so she couldn’t really hide the sadness in her eyes as her gaze fell to her hands as he was mixing the contents that were going to go in the lowball glass. It pained him to see her anything but her usual bubbly, sweet self. 

“S’wrong?” Harry frowned, but she shook her head. 

“Nothin’. Just waiting on you, like always.”

His mouth fell open at your accusation. 

“Since when?” he scoffs. “M’always waitin’ on you.”

“When?” she challenges, eyebrows furrowing.

Harry playfully rolls his eyes. “When we were goin’ t’that festival, or anytime we do somethin’ outside of work, yeh always take forever to get ready.”

Because she wanted to look super cute for you, you idiot. 

“I messed up my makeup, okay? Gimme a break.”

She’s sitting on the bar stool and he’s behind the bar, leaning onto his elbows and stopping what he’s doing to look at her.

“Y’dont need tha’ stuff.” 

She gives him a sheepish smile, but Harry’s not having any of it. 

Here goes nothing. 

“Hey.” he reaches over and puts a hand under her chin, finger brushing the skin of her jaw and his touch gives her butterflies. “Look a’ me?”

Her eyes flicker up to meet his, earning a smile on his pink lips. 

“S’true. You’re beautiful and you don’t need it, okay?”

A soft smile graced her lips, making his small smile wider. “Okay, okay.”

“Alright, here.” he slid the glass across the bar top towards her. She takes a sip and her eyes light up, making his do the same.

“Mmm, it’s so good!” she looks up at him, eyes widening, making him laugh. 

She loved his laugh. 

“Know you like to start off with the fruity stuff.” 

“Careful.” she teased, raising an eyebrow. “I know how much you love those cranberry vodkas.”

“And they’re delicious. Especially mine.”

“Definitely yours.” her comment makes Harry giggle, looking at his hands and you’re positive it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. He looks at her, flicking his head.

“C’mere, I’ll show yeh how t’make one.”

Her whole face lights up. “Really?” and her excitement is so adorable he can’t help but mirror her expression with a laugh.

“Mhm, c’mon.”

She’s standing behind the bar and Harry’s standing behind her, showing her the ropes, as he called it. But when she felt his chest pressed against her back as he went through the steps, she could no longer focus on anything he was saying, which worked in his favor because he stumbled across his words quite a bit at the feeling. They were physically closer than they’ve ever been and she smelled so fucking good. He rests his head on her left shoulder, gripping the bar top in front of her. 

She could hear her heartbeat in her ears, and he finally speaks up. 

“Wanna try?”

He picks up the lowball glass, bringing it up to her lips. He moves his hand, tilting the drink to meet your lips. The interaction was so intimate, and you could feel his breath on your ear.

“Good?”

His voice was deeper, sending shivers down her spinal cord. She nods and he moves beside her, (much to her disappointment) and leans one of his elbows onto the surface beside him. She turns to him, and takes the glass out of his grasp as he’s taking a sip. 

“S’not nice!” he laughs as she takes a drink, giggling as he gets in her face.

“S’your turn to make me a drink now.”

One hour later and she was three drinks in, which meant that she was on the verge of drunk. She made him two replicas of the cocktail he’d helped her make just before, and he claimed that hers were just as good, but she still wasn’t too sure if he was letting her win or not. She wasn’t drunk, though. 

“Promise me.” 

“I promise.” the smirk sliding up his lips told a different story. 

“Liar!” she giggled, and she tries to walk towards him but her legs betray her as she trips over her own sneakers and falls into his chest. 

“Okay, you’re drunk.” he confirms with a chuckle, catching her by her forearms helping her to stand again. 

“M’not drunk, shoelace is untied.” she tries to lift up her leg to show him the definitely loose laces, but she loses her balance and nearly falls onto the wood floor, and if Harry hadn’t grabbed her hand when he did she would’ve definitely had a sore backside. 

“Maybe I am drunk.” she mumbles, pouting when she hears his chuckle. “Not funny, H.”

His stomach drops when he sees that she’s looking right at him with tears threatening to spill onto her soft cheeks. 

“No, m’sorry love. Didn’t mean it, okay? Promise.” He uses his thumb to brush the skin just under her eye. “Please, don’t cry.”

The rest of the tears subside at Harry’s comforting gesture. They stood like that for a while, eye contact refusing to break before she spoke up. 

“Do you like me?”

Did she really just say that? Was he that drunk? He was definitely more than tipsy, but did she really just say that?! Was he dreaming? Please let this not be a dream. 

His heart thumped in his chest when her fingers started playing with his. 

“Now what’s not to like about you, darlin’?”

That’s sweet, but not what I asked, she thinks to herself.

She could not believe the level of bravery in her blood right now. She wasn’t even that drunk and words that she thought she would never say were spilling out. 

As she was about to respond, she lets out a yawn, her previous thoughts quickly slipping her mind.

“Tired?’ he questions as he cocks his head to the side, a grin sliding up his lips.

“Mhm. Still need to walk home.” she frowns and his eyes go wide.

“Can’t let y’walk home alone-”

“I do it every other night.” she protests, clearly getting frustrated.

The thought of her walking back to her apartment alone at 3 am, sober or not, made his stomach turn. He ignores her attempt at convincing him that she’s fine, because there is no way he’s letting this happen.

“ Y’can stay with me? S’just upstairs.” 

His voice was quiet and it took a moment for her to register what he’d said. 

“Wait, what d’you mean upstairs?”

“There’s a flat upstairs, s’mine.”

The confusion on her face made his heart want to melt.

“C’mon, I’ll carry you.” 

She feels another yawn coming and he picks her up—one arm under her legs and the other supporting her back. She lays her head on his shoulder, and he’s so warm—she can’t help but nuzzle her face into his neck and he thinks he could very well pass out, but he won’t, because he’s holding her, obviously. 

He sets her down onto his bed, and tells her she can pick whatever looks comfy from his dresser to wear as pj’s. 

“M’gonna go get some water, okay? Be right back, love.”

She picks out a stones t-shirt and changes into that because honestly, it’s one of the first things she sees and it smells like him and she’s tired.

He comes back upstairs and she’s laying down on his dark sheets, her back to him with her hair fanned out on his pillow. He walks around to the other side and sits down next to her. She feels the bed dip, opens one eye and pouts when she sees the water bottle in his hand.

“I know love, just drink some for me? Y’know it’ll make you feel better tomorrow.”

He encourages her to sit up and he doesn’t let her lay back down until she’s had at least half, and then covers her up with his blanket before 

“I’ll just be on the sofa. If y’need anything in the middle of the night let me know, alright?”

“No, stay.”

His breath hitched inside his throat. He swallowed thickly before replying.

“You want me to stay?”

She nods. “Don’t leave me.”  

She wants him to stay.

“I won’t, s’alright.”

After a small freak out episode in the bathroom while he changed, he gets into bed next to you.

Harry always had trouble falling asleep, but tonight it only took a few minutes and he was softly snoring into his pillow.

The light peeking through the curtains was what slowly pulled her out of sleep. 

“G’mornin’ sleepyhead.”

She couldn’t help the lazy smile across her lips, letting out a giggle as she stretched.

“What time is it?”

“Almost eleven. Do you want somethin’ to eat?”

“Can I have some waffles?”

So, he made her some waffles. Some for him too. Harry didn’t have a dining table so he insisted she stay put while he make them breakfast in bed. He watches her take her first bite and he swears that this is the moment when he truly fell in love with her.

“Mmmm.” she hums, eyes closed with a dopey, syrupy smile across her lips. “So good.”

The reaction made him quite literally crack up laughing, because those waffles were from his bloody freezer and she was acting like Harry had just ordered room service to their hotel room in Paris. 

He’d take her to Paris.

“So, how’d you end up living here?” she wondered out loud, breaking Harry out of his daydream.

He proceeded to tell her everything. About his piece of shit dad, his mum getting sick, getting jumped, and how Joe took Harry in and was the father he’d never had. When he’s finished, her hand is on the back of his neck pulling him into a protective hug, lightly toying with his hair.

“I’m so sorry, H.”

Her voice is just above a whisper and it makes Harry’s eyelashes flutter.

She pulls away and they instantly find each other’s eyes. He gives her a small smile, as if to say, it’s okay.

She looks at him with doe eyes and he can’t help but reach over and pushes her hair behind one of her ears, the space in between their faces becoming smaller and smaller, until his nose brushes hers. 

“Can I kiss you?”

She gives him a small nod.

He cautiously presses his lips to hers. The kiss is everything both of them have ever dreamed of and so much more. Her hand is still on the back of his neck and he’s moved to cradle her cheeks in his hands, and they fit perfectly.

Neither of you want the kiss to end, both of them breathless as Harry’s forehead is pressed against hers.

“I really, really like you, had feelings for you for a long time.” you heart flutters in your chest at his sweet words. He felt like he couldn’t breathe as he waited for you to say something, anything.

“I really, really like you too.”

This is my baby, be nice to her. I’ve pulled many all nighters to make this as close to perfect as it can be so I hope you love it <3

Thank you to @oh-honey-styles​ , @for-fucks-sake-h​ and @andwhenshesays​ for putting this Pick Your Poison Fic Challenge together, I’m so glad I could be a part of it!

BIG THANKS to my babies @goldenfeelin​ , @bfharry​ and @avhrodite​ for truly hyping me up and being so supportive, I love you. <3

[ifyouknowme-stayaway]

So, @nagisushi, i got you for the secret santa! hope you like this!

♡♡♡♡♡

It was December 22nd, three days away from Christmas. Karma had invited him and Sugino over to his house after realizing in horror that Sugino had never watched a Sonic Ninja movie in his entire life. The three of them were going to binge watch the movies and then sleepover since they probably wouldn’t be able to finish catching Sugino up to speed in just one day.

With Christmas coming up, his mother’s job had become just about busy enough that she’d rather have him go away until she had less on her plate. Honestly, Nagisa was glad she wanted him away for a while. He didn’t want to have to walk on eggshells around her either.

And so, here he was. In front of Karma’s house, Sugino beside him, and a backpack with his toothbrush, pajamas, and a spare change of clothes.

"Watch your step," Karma warned, stepping aside so they could come in. "Don't step on the tripwire," he pointed out a thin piece of string rigged over the floor at ankle-height.

"Why do you have a tripwire at your front door?" Sugino looked at him in disbelief. "Actually, why do you have a tripwire at- y'know what? I'll ask you that some other time,"

"Never know when someone's gonna break in. Come on, let's go watch Sonic Ninja,"

Nagisa laughed nervously, and followed Karma to another room, ducking under a rubber spider hanging from the doorway by a thin string.

Once they got into the room, Karma promptly launched himself onto a pile of blankets and pillows on the floor in front of a TV. 

Nagisa and Sugino sat down next to him. It was comfy, though small enough that the three of them had to squish together a little.

Karma took a remote out from one of the pillowcases, and started playing the movies.

Nagisa had watched them before, but it was still interesting to see the characters react and change as the story progressed.  Besides that, he always noticed a little detail he'd dismissed before that made the plot twists seem so obvious. Sonic Ninja really did have good replay value, even if it had a few somewhat cliche twists, they made sense in the plot after rewatching it.

Something else that made this time exciting was that it was Sugino’s first time watching Sonic Ninja ever.

Seeing him quickly take a liking to certain characters, disliking others, dismissing some details while looking too far into others, it was refreshing to see Sugino react from the series. 

Sugino also had a habit of grabbing onto his arm during the jump scares. It was a little surprising at first, but after a while, Nagisa ended up holding hands with him during the tenser moments. Sugino’s hand was strangely warm, but it felt nice since it was a little cold.

As for Karma, he had a bit of an annoying habit of keeping a running commentary during movies. It was just something that happened while watching them, though it certainly led to having a peek into his thought process if he was focused hard on the scene enough to say things without a filter. For some reason, he didn’t do it as often this time. Every few minutes, he’d open his mouth, start to say something, and then close it again.

Plus, despite how mischievous he usually was, he wasn’t a bad host. He’d been awkward when he, Sugino, Kayano, Okuda, and Kanzaki had shown up without warning when Karma got sick, but give him a clear idea of what would happen and he would be fairly prepared for the day. Karma kept them well-supplied on snacks and drinks, passing around bottles of soda, boba drinks, along with popcorn.

At some point, Nagisa ended up with Karma’s arm slung over his shoulder, with both him and Sugino leaning gently on Nagisa. It was warm and comfortable, and felt strangely safe.

And somehow, between the familiar storyline, Sugino’s hand in his, Karma’s arm over his shoulder, and being tired in general, he fell asleep. He was vaguely aware of movement, whispers, and what might’ve been the sound of a photo being taken, but he managed to sleep through it.

When he woke up, it seemed that some time had passed already. The TV was off, for one thing, and when he checked his phone, it was already 6.30 pm.

“Hey,” Sugino said, with damp hair and soft-looking dark blue pyjamas. “You fell asleep earlier, do you wanna go take a shower?”

Rubbing his eyes, Nagisa stood up. Sugino took Nagisa’s bag. “I’ll help you take this to the bathroom, apparently there's a trap on the door handle. Karma’s off picking up some food. We already ordered for you earlier, since we didn’t want to wake you up,”

"Oh, thanks," Nagisa said. He wasn't sure why Karma would have a trap in his bathroom, but it was nice of Sugino to take him.

While he was drying his hair, Nagisa heard Sugino talking to Karma, who had probably gotten back while he was showering.

"Hey, do you have the stuff?" Sugino asked.

"Yes, I have the drugs,"

"Karma, you know what I mean,"

"Yeah, of course I have the stuff, don't forget what we have in common,"

Curious and nervous about the potential chaos that could happen based off of that exchange, Nagisa opened the door.

Karma had probably taken a shower while he was asleep, since he was wearing a black hoodie and a different pair of pants.

He also had two plastic bags in his hands, both with a very familiar brand on them. 

"Nagisa!" Sugino said, surprised. "We, uh, got you sushi," he rubbed the back of his neck. "We weren't completely sure which one was your favorite, so we just ordered a ton since it's on Karma. I'll take whatever you don't like,"

For just a moment, Nagisa just stared at them.

He broke out into a grin. "Thanks, both of you,"

Both Sugino and Karma's ears went strangely red, and the two of them smiled as well.

"Yeah, we really are great," Karma joked. "C'mon, let's go eat. You mentioned the place we got the sushi from once or twice and it really does look good,"

The sushi really did taste good as well. Karma and Sugino had ordered a few different kinds, somehow managing to have chosen most of his favorites. But then again, his favorite did consist of almost all of the different kinds.

Over dinner, the three of them talked about Sonic Ninja. They were only about halfway through the series, according to Karma. 

Sugino was trying to predict what was going to happen, and how issues would be resolved based off of the story he'd seen so far. While his theories were pretty off on what actually happened, Nagisa had to admit they would've made good storylines, and that they made sense as well. 

Karma on the other hand just seemed to be enjoying trying to confuse and trick Sugino on what was actually going to happen. He was half encouraging Sugino's theory, while also pointing out how it could be wrong. 

The rest of the night passed by in a happy blur. Eating, watching, talking, and eventually, Karma and Sugino drifted off to sleep. Sugino was hugging his left arm, and Karma had somehow managed to lay his head across both his and Sugino's laps.

Nagisa noticed a slip of paper with writing on it sticking out of Karma's hoodie pocket. Curious, he cautiously slid it out, and started reading

He covered his mouth, suppressing a laugh.

It was a to-do list. It had the words "operation: Nagisa has a Good December 23-24" written in Karma's fanciest cursive, with little doodles of him that Sugino must've drawn around it.

Nagisa noted how cute he looked in Sugino's doodles.

Under that, there was a list of things the two of them must've been planning for the day and the next. It included giving him presents (descriptions on where they were hidden were next to that step), a hoodie (Sugino and Karma had written each of their names, crossed the other's out, and ended up just writing "whoever gets the chance first"), buying him sushi, and talking to him about Sonic Ninja.

And at the very bottom of the paper, in Sugino's big, blocky handwriting, underlined twice, was "DO NOT TELL HIM!!! DON'T RUIN PRE-CHRISTMAS!!". Nagisa felt guilty for reading, though he wasn't completely sure why it was so important to keep it a secret. The amount of effort they had put into it made the whole thing a lot more touching, in his opinion.

Sugino's head fell on Nagisa's shoulder, breathing softly and steadily.

They've put so much effort into all of this, Nagisa thought, absentmindedly leaning his head on top of Sugino's. After all that, the least I can do is let them think I don't know how much planning they did for me.

Nagisa slipped the paper back into Karma's pocket. Karma's hand curled around his subconsciously.

Surrounded by two of his best friends, Nagisa smiled, and felt himself drift off to sleep as well.

Thank you, both of you.

Bonus headcanons since this is a mess:

Karma and Sugino both have a crush on Nagisa

they found out about their own crush from Okuda and Maehara respectively

Nakamura found out and added them into the “Nagisa Simps” group chat

the group chat plans little events or things to make Nagisa happy

they also lowkey tease each other of their crushes, take turns being jealous occasionally, yet sometimes wingman each other

the goal is Nagisa’s happiness, not their own relationships

the  "DO NOT TELL HIM!!! DON'T RUIN PRE-CHRISTMAS!!" part of the note was about confessing their crushes. they didn’t want Nagisa to have any bad memories tied to before Christmas because of them

Karma’s handwriting is either insanely fancy cursive, or complete chicken scratch

Sugino doodled Nagisa smiling on the plan as decoration

[futurewriter2000]

Intricacy on Strings - pt.6

A/N: You see where I’m going with this? 3:) - probably not but it’s coming.

XX

Fred couldn’t stop smiling as he made his way to breakfast. No. Not breakfast. His way to see you.

He has finally accepted loving you, being in love with you. He had accepted that and finally, that realization made his soul lighter by a ton.

And he couldn’t stop smiling. He really couldn’t. He tried not be obvious but he was smiling. He was smiling like a fool in love, wating for you to come to him.

Ginny was suspicious of her brother. She was looking at him as if she knew but didn’t know. She had her doubts. “You alright there Fred?” she asked and Fred’s smiling, lit-up face looking up at her.

“Yeah. Why?”

She shrugged, taking a bite in her toast. “Dunno. You’re acting strange.”

“I’m always acting strange- anyways have you seen (y/n)?” he quickly changed the subject.

“Aaah..” Ginny couldn’t help herself to grin and lean back with a wiggle of her eyebrows.

Fred rolled his eyes and leaned back as well. “Don’t even start. Just tell me have you seen her?”

“No.” was all she said, focusing back on her food and smiling at it with a tight-lip smile.

No doubts anymore.

“How’d you sleep, George?” Fred asked, looking at his brother who kept exchanging glances between him and Ginny.

“Alright.” he said.

“Nothing....odd?”

George was perplexed by his brother’s questions. “Umm... Are you alright?”

“I’m fine!” Fred laughed, shurgging and trying to hide the obvious. “I just need to talk to (y/n).”

“To confess your undying love to her.” Ron rolled his eyes, meaning it sarcastically and widening his eyes at the realization that he was wrong.

Fred only grinned, shaking his head in defeat. “Yes, actually.”

Everybody looked up with a surprised look in their eyes.

“I don’t know whether you’re joking or serious?” George kept staring.

“Really?!” Ginny beamed at him. She knew her brother well enuogh to know when he was serious and when he wasn’t. “Finally!” she kept laughing. “Then I can tell you she went for a run.”

Fred’s eyes narrowed down at her. “What?”

“Yeah, I saw her in her sportswear- oh there she is.” she looked at the girl jogging into the Great Hall.

All heads turned to you.

You were laughing. A little too much.

And there it was, a Ravenclaw jogging after you and wrapping his arms around you as soon as he was next to you. He was laughing as well, holding you close and whispering something to you.

Fred felt his heart drop. He felt it drop and shatter. His eyes told you that. Eyes that were staring, not angrily, not filled with jealousy but they broke like a mirror.

You pushed the Ravenclaw away, telling him something before jogging to the red heads and plopping yourself in the middle of the twins. “Morning, you guys.” you continued to chuckle a little still, grabbing the toast from George’s plate.

“OI!” he wanted to get it back but you already took a bite in it, grinning.

“Too late.” you taunted and made him roll his eyes.

“You’re a prat.” he still laughed despite the theft of his food.

You looked at Fred whose eyes were still diverted somewhere else. You nudged him a bit, taking another bite. “What’s wrong with you?”

His eyes flickered and you noticed something was awfully wrong because he had never looked at you the way he did now. “Perry?” he asked, voice flat and almost broken.

You felt guilty. You didn’t know why you felt guilty. It’s not like you and Fred were dating but at the same time you slept in the same bed as Fred- and- was he upset because you and Perry went for a run together.

“Yeah.” you said just as painfully as he asked. “I went for a morning jog-”

“You never go for a morning jog. You hate running.”

“I wanted to clear my head. Prepare myself for today’s match.”

“And he happens to be there?”

It was like an itterigation and you felt- you felt it inside you that he, Fred Weasley might be jealous and that he, Fred Weasley might like you back. The possibility wasn’t impossible, was it?

“I was doing my second lap when he ran after me. I couldn’t run because I hate running and we just walked and talked.” you turned to others because you had realized you and Fred weren’t alone. You forced a smile at Ginny who was looking just as George and the other’s. “We just jogged together. It’s not like I married the guy.” you let out a forceful laugh.

“And all huggy, touchy, feelly?” George tried to ease the tension, grinning and nudging you a bit for which you were thankful to him.

“Appereantly he fancies me and he keeps trying to get close but I think we all know what he wants.” you rolled your eyes, biting into the toast.

Fred’s eyes changed. They weren’t broken, they were confused and afraid. “So, do you fancy him back?” he asked and you turned your head to him, staring into his eyes and smiling.

“No.” you turned back to the others, trying not to make it obvious. “A jock, full of himself- plus he made fun of me in my third year. Karma’s a bitch.” you laughed and so did the others.

“You really hold grudges.” Ginny laughed.

“Hey! I may forgive but never forget.”

And Fred couldn’t help himself to transition into his old, bubbly-self. “And do YOU fancy anybody?” he leaned his head on his palm and slid his elbow acros the table until his came into your eyesight.

You grinned, clearly seeing the teasing look in his eyes. “I might.” you winked at him then turned to others, continuing the previous conversation and utterly not aware the affect you left on Fred by saying so.

His heart fluttered so hard that it almost flew away from his chest.

He knew. He knew. He had you in front of him, he was looking into your eyes when he said it.

It was him. You like him. You might be in love with him. He, who loved you for so long. He who finally realized, he, who-

“Reckon a girl like you could take a shower once in a while.” a head popped beside you and you rolled your eyes.

“Says the sweaty guy, dripping all over me.” you looked at him as he put his cocky smile on his face and covering Fred completely.

“I don’t sweat, sweetie. I shine.” he winked, slicking back the hair and causing you to laugh.

“Well, then. Sweetie.” you ephasized his word, giving him quite the intimidated look to which he fed off, staring hungrily at it and causing tension to built in space between you. “I wouldn’t be sure of yourself because I-” you stood up, almost chest to chest, faced with his brash grin. “-I can outshine you anytime.”

“Is that so, sweetie?”

“I swear if you call me that one more time-” you grit your teeth but he was still goading you with his eyes. “I will-”

“What, Hufflepuff?” he continued to taunt and you took a step back, holding yourself from spating the wrong thing.

You took a step forward, smiling maliciously at him as your eyes and his eyes were less than an inch away. “Ravenclaws may be good with their wit but don’t mess with the angry Hufflepuff because those can get quite agressive on the field.”

“Is that a threat, (y/l/n)?” He wiggled his eyebrows, his eyes flicking down to your lips and his tongue covering the lower lip of his own.

“It’s a warning.” you felt your heart bursting in your chest. The chemistry, the tension between the two of you were so heightened you could cut through it.

“Well then...” he leaned a bit forward and at that point you had realized how close you were and took a step back, removing yourself from his personal space.

“I’ll see you on the field, Bash.” you sat back, watching him intensly as he grinned and started backing away.

“Whatever you say.” he paused, sending you a wink. “Sweetie.”

[desdamona-evangaline]

Karma, Kayano, Nagisa and Sugino were excited. Well. Kayano, Nagisa and Sugino were exited.

“Are we really going to spend our Friday night looking at bones?” Wines Karma.

“Come on, they got a new exhibit! It’s the fourth largest bone found ever!” Said Sugino.

“”I heard it’s a dinosaur hip.” Chimed in Kayano.

“Plus,” said Nagisa “Koro-sesei said it would be a learning experience”

“Fine whatever”

Kayano leapt to her feet “Forget the bones!”

Exclamations of dismay ensued. Karma had just gotten on bored.

“No, no! Apples releasing a new iPad! And giving away free ones as a promotion! All we have to do is make a video about apples to win!”

“Come on, I want to see the museum.” Said Nagisa.

“I’ll help” said Sugino. “We’ll get Okajima to film.”

“Yes! Get ready. I feel a brainstorm coming on”

They grabbed a napkin and started drawing their heart stopping Apple based videos. This would be epic. Tales of Apple drama, costumes, lighting. This would be bigger than the Titanic!

“Didn’t that sink?”

“Shut up Karma!”

Karma laughed at their antics. Nagisa on the other hand frowned. “I wanted to go to the museum. It’s closed for repairs for a week starting Saturday.”

“We can still go”

“Um....” Nagisa mumbled vaguely. Things had been a tad... awkward since Karma had come back. They hadn’t really hung out together for long since the whole.... friendship break up. He didn’t want to be stressed all evening.

“Look, it’s fine. It’s not like... a big deal.” Pointed out Karma.

“It’s just hanging out.”

“”I guess. Sure”

Kayano popped up smiling. “Aww, like a date?”

Nagisa nearly fell off his chair. Oh God. Mortified.

“No, not a date” hissed Karma. “Just. Hanging out.”

“Have fun on your .not. date.” She cooed before running for dear life. Sugino looked at Karmas face and made a swift exit. Nagisa’s was trying to fight his blush. Oh God he was all red. Idiot!

“It’s not a date.” Karma said again, rather forcefully.

“Just. Hanging. Out”

“Got it.”

“See you at 7”

Karma casually walked away praying his face didn’t rival the colour of his hair. He was not going on a date with Nagisa. And his heart certainly wasn’t beating any harder than normal. Nagisa buried his head in his school bag. It wasn’t a date. Stop panicking! What should he wear?

It took Kayano took zero seconds to convince Okajima to film their video. The thought of an IPad with high zoom camera filled him with glee. Disturbing glee but glee all the same. Nakamura’s blackmail sences were tingling. A date? Between the two most oblivious boys in the class? She new what she was doing this evening. She grabbed Hinano. Now her sights were set on the boys she needed a new accomplice. The girl was easy to convince.

“Finally!! My OTP!!”

“Whatever, bring your binoculars.”

“Trust me. We won’t miss a single second of this legendary meet up”

After school Kayano, Sugino and Okajima asked/begged/bribed Koro-Sensei to fetch them costumes. Their grand idea? An interpretation of apples through ballet. The competition would never see it coming. Kayano wore a green tutu, Sugino a red ballet jacket and shorts. Okajima stood by with the camera. The only problem? None of them knew anything about ballet.

“Don’t you like.... stand on your toes? And sort of spin?”

“I think I can do an arabesque.”

“Jumping is involved?”

The bone museum was just as eventful as one could expect. By which it wasn’t eventful at all and Karma was going insane.

“Are we done yet? It’s a rock! It’s not like it can move”

“It’s a fossil and I want to look at it a little longer”

“It’s a grey rock. I’ll find you 20 outside, can we go now?”

“Don’t you think it’s lovely?”

“It’s almost as picturesque as you my darling little bon...”

“I will hit you with the bone if you finish that sentence”

The Apple ballet plot line was fabulous. Stupendous. Electronic. But the skills? Less so.

“Just twirl. Twirl. Kayano for the love of God TWIRL!”

“I’m basically standing on my big toe do you think this is easy!”

“Sugino, you twirl then!”

No response came from the pile of body that used to be Sugino. Arabesque’s were harder than you’d imagine. Okajima dumped the camera and leapt onto the podium they were using as a stage.

“Just go on one leg and spin like this!”

Kayano didn’t know exactly what happened. After blacking out for a moment she came to under a desk, Sugino’s knee on her head and Okajima stuck in a broken floor board. Time for the good old YouTube tutorial.

Karma kicked himself internally. What was he doing? Why did he say that? This was supposed to be a causal meet up between friends and he was ... flirting? Could you even call that flirting? What ever it was it certainly wasn’t casual. Nagisa was staring straight ahead at the bone. Stop blushing stop blushing stop blushing. Karma was just teasing. This was not. A. Date. He didn’t really mean it. Blushing harder under Karma’s grin, he fought off any unacceptable emotion. But.

He had called him lovely.

Hinano and Nakamura lurked behind a display of elderly bow ties. They came armed with a romance magazine including a stage by stage guide to love. Stage one. The Compliments. Already a solid start. Hinano screamed internally.

“Lovely?” Thought Nakumura. Interesting choice. He’d have to up the anti if he wanted to get anywhere with Nagisa. The boy was completely oblivious. Get down on one knee and he’d ask if your shoelaces were untied.

“I’m hungry.” Announced Karma, formally ending their bone viewing.

Since it wasn’t a date they didn’t plan on getting dinner anywhere fancy. What they were getting was barbaque food. From a literal hole in a brick wall. The smell alone was enough to throw romance out the window.

“It smells like..”

“Best not to think about it.”

“My leg is broken”

“Your leg is not broken”

“It’s broken!”

“Sugino your fine! Do the jump!”

“I swear to God Kayano I quit!”

“If you quit I’ll make you wish you’d never been born!”

All in all, thought Okajima to himself, letting the camera roll through out the afternoon showed scenes more entertaining than traditional ballet ever could.

“That is the most disgusting food I’ve ever seen” hissed Hinano.

This couldn’t be right. Even Karma couldn’t be idiotic enough to bring a date to this mess of a restaurant. They were sitting on the side walk for goodness sake. And the guy running the place looked like he was considering a murder. Come to think of it that’s probably where the meat came from.

“This tastes terrible Karma. Amazing job!”

“Karma laughed and took another bite of the thing that resembled a burger. See? They could hangout. No feelings. Just good friends. Nagisa was just a good friend who was illuminated by the white street light like an angel. Who’s eyes almost glowed and who was sitting close enough to Kiss...”

“OTP for life!!!” Hissed Hinano as Nakamura punched the air. 10 more inches. 5! 4, 3, 2

Nagisa’s phone made all 4 of them jump.

He answered to hear Kayano’s frantic whispers.

“We need help. Susan needs a hospital!”

“Hospital? Who’s Susan?”

“We were pirouetteing” explained Kayano as she dodged a thrown plate, “and Sugino accidentally threw me into a tree, the branch broke and I fell on a deer. Her antler broke! Her names Susan and she’s trying to kill us!”

“I don’t think girl deers have antlers”

“THAT IS NOT WHAT YOU SHOULD BE TAKING FROM THIS CONVERSATION!”

“Alright I’m on my way. Karma, we need to go save Kayano and Sugino from a distressed deer.”

“Sure” he muttered. “Why not”

Nakamura comforted Hinano. She would kill that deer with her own bare hands. Or maybe with a baseball bat.

It took a long time to get the deer into an animal hospital. He (or she) was a biter. The nurses criticised Karma’s method of transportation. In fairness it did look pretty odd when they arrived dragging a basket full of deer tied up with fairylights. But, as Karma argued, they did arrive at their destination. All they had to do now what wait as the nurses got the animal painkillers and possibly anger management therapy. Now Nagisa, Kayano, Sugino and Karma were in the waiting room recovering.

Exhausted Nagisa rested his head on Karma’s shoulder. Not in a romantic way or anything.

“Awww” cooed one lady.”Your such a cute couple”

“Oh! No.” Said Nagisa quickly lifting his head.

“We’re just friends.”

“Why?”

“Ummm”

“You’d be great together” man joined in.

Karma shook his head “no, all the dating stuff wouldn’t work out”

“If I may chime in,” Said another guy in a hat.

“Are you avoiding romance because of your fear of separation?”

“My what?” Karma looked personally insulted. “I don’t have a fear of separation”

“Listen young man” said a women behind Nagisa.

“You need to reassure that red headed fellow you will always be there for him.”

“I don’t want to talk about this” said Nagisa, mortification flooding through him.

“Perhaps that’s what’s driving you apart” said hat guy. “Your worried he won���t appreciate and except your efforts”

Sugino and Kayano took turns holding vending machine popcorn.

“No, I just don’t want to date him. Karma’s my friend”

“Is he. Or is he just putting up with you” asked some girl to the left.

“Excuse me?”

“Hey, I’m just telling you what you tell yourself buddy”

Karma stood up angrily. “Let’s stop this right there, our love life is none of your business”

“So you do have a love life?”

Two nurses restrainted Karma from attacking the hat guy.

Nakumura crashed through the door with Hinano at her heels.

“Everyone shut up! It’s time for your moment! Stage 3 happens 4 hours into the date! You have 86 seconds!”

“The hell are you talking about?” Yelled Karma as Nagisa buried his head in his hands.

“Oh God!” Screamed one women, “It’s about to get real!”

“Lady you need to chill” hissed Sugino through his popcorn. “Karma! This is your time! Tell him how you feel!” Wailed Hinata.

“What is going on?” Whispers Nagisa.

“It might be too late soon!” Called hat guy.

“Am I dead?” Whispered Nagisa.

“Do it! We support you!” Yelled the nurse.

“Am I in hell?” Nagisa asked himself.

“Take the initiative Karma! Kiss him!”

Kamra threw himself at Nakamura with the sole intent to kill.Nagisa tackled him.

“No killing Nakumura. Or me after this”

The audience gasped. Hinata cheered. Kayano clapped. Nagisa kissed. And kissed. And kissed.Silence. Staring down at Karma Nagisa waited for his fist. It never came.

“I can’t believe this was our first date. Do-over?”

The whole room cheered.

The next day Karma and Nagisa headed out for first date round two. Nakumura and Hinata spread the news. Kayano and Sugino met to discuss their aid to the Karmagisa cause. It was worth it, even though they never got an iPad.

Then Sugino frowned

“Hey, what happened to Okajima?”

Okajima bowed as he received his prize. His short film “What two mental ballerinas would do for an iPad” won him first place. Life was good.

@darlingimawitch

[tobesobri]

model!harry sneak peaks.

okay. so I’m in a better headspace and would like to give this one more go. these are both the sneak peaks I uploaded and deleted recently. As to not confuse anyone, they are two different scenes from different days!

If you missed it, this will be an upcoming one shot where the mc (Vera) is in fashion school in New York and she’s in a menswear class that uses actual models and Harry is one of them. There’s a bit of enemies to lovers, angst, and lots of sexual tension :)

1.

However, right when she thought karma was finally on her side, that the stars were not, after all, aligned against her for what she’d done last night, the elevator doors dinged open on the fifth floor.

Harry really was out to get her.

He wasn’t in his tight fitting jeans and white t-shirt this time, though. He wore a grey hoodie and black sweatpants with airpods stuck in both ears. He hesitated a moment when he saw her, when they locked eyes and thought about all the odds in the world that landed them here, together. In the middle of New York, for crying out loud.

“Oof,” he furrowed his brows as he stepped onto the elevator beside her, “the walk of shame.”

She couldn’t deny it. She was wearing a stained pair of black shorts and a headband to hold her hair back. Not to mention, it was seven in the fucking morning on the upper east side where she most definitely did not belong.

She rolled her eyes as he leaned in front of her to press the button for the lobby again. And once the doors closed, she crossed her arms over her chest, “Do you live here or are you stalking me?”

Harry scoffed and when she looked at him, he was already sporting that annoying little grin on his face. “While you’re shaping up to be interesting enough to follow around the upper east side, no,” he glanced at her, “I’m not stalking you.”

His eyes were just as green as she remembered and his skin just as smooth. She wasn’t sure how he did it or if he just got blessed with the best genes in the entire world.

“So you live here then?” She asked.

And then Harry laughed, nearly buckling over but Vera didn’t seem to be in on his joke when he spotted her in his peripheral and realized she was, in fact, being serious. So, he put on a straight face again, as straight as his face could manage at least. “No.” He looked her up and down, eyes lingering on her shorts before he faced her again, “I’m here for the exact same reason you are.”

2.

Once Harry was out of ear-sight, Lea abandoned the pleasant smile and dropped a frown right into Vera’s lap. “I don’t know what you’re doing, but don’t even think about him. He’s not available.”

Vera furrowed her brows, “Who? Harry?” She let out an exasperated laugh. “I think you’re mistaken.”

“No I’m not. I see the way you look at him.”

Vera’s eyes rounded while she sat back against her metal seat in disbelief, “I don’t look at him in any special way, Lea, I think you’re just paranoid.”

Lea’s expression deepened into seething anger and she opened her mouth to say something else, possibly twice as mean, but Harry approached the table then with a handful of packets and she bit her tongue instead.

As soon as he sat down again, and collected all the ketchup into a neat pile beside Lea’s plate, she already had her hands on him and there was no turning back from what she was about to do. When he looked at her to ask if he’d gotten enough, she instead reached her arm around his neck and pulled his lips straight into hers before he could say a single word.

Right in front of their half-eaten burgers.

And right in front of Vera, who made a disgusted face and quickly looked away from the chaotic trainwreck across from her. She would never admit it had done the trick; what Lea had wanted out of surprise smooching Harry to begin with. Vera was jealous. Thoroughly so.

Within a second, Harry broke it off. “What--?” He tried, too shocked to get out anything more than that and Vera braved looking at them again.

Lea cut him off anyways and smiled, “Thanks for the ketchup.” Then she glanced at Vera with a cocky expression before returning to her plate and her stupid godforsaken ketchup packets.

[copias-thrall]

There’s Magic in the Night

A new year is breaking, and it's full of possibilities.

⬅️ Previous

(Reminder: not Repugnant accurate.)

It’s a 15min walk from the nearest subway stop in a part of the city that hosts low-income and broke college folk, and you’re beginning to wonder if your heeled boots were the best choice—but the shiny patent of them so nicely offset your cheap pink and black tulle skirt and fuzzy black crop sweater with inlaid tinsel that you’d decided on form or function. You’d almost changed your top when Mary had knelt and given your tummy a raspberry where it hung over the waistband a little, but his cute little pout had placated you a little after you’d threatened to do just that.

“You want a piggyback?”

“Nah, I’m all right, Mare. We’re almost there, right?”

“Yeah.” 

Using his chin, he indicates a house down the block with a light on in every window and that’s lit up with string lights. It’s a little run down, but not falling apart. The neighborhood is full of three-story homes that are either co-ops or rented out by various floor configurations. 

You’d tried to follow his explanation on who he knew and how, but the most you’d retained was that of the 6 people who rented the entire house, Mary knew 2 of them intimately. (“Yeah, they’ve had it every year that they’re lived there. I’m pretty sure a good third of the crowd is party crashers, but the more the merrier, right?”)

The closer you get, the louder the din from the house becomes—it sounds like there are 4 different playlists fighting for dominance, and the crowd ASMR is strong. There is a gang of smokers spilling from the front porch, down the cement steps, and clumped into murders in the small yard.

Ed and Dee are leaning against the railing on the steps, shivering in their best band tees as they take drags of their cigarettes.

“Hey, man!” says Mary as he leans forward and engages them both in a sloppy approximation of a cool, secret handshake.

“Hey, Goore!”

“Long time no see, dude.”

You nod at them, and they nod back.

“Where’s the rest of the gang?” asks Ed as he strains to see behind you in the dark.

Apparently Mary usually pregamed with his bandmates and then they headed over en masse later in the night. Horrified, you’d tried to convince him to uphold the tradition, but he’d insisted he could break off one year (“I’m not gonna toss you to the wolves, Suey. I see those assholes all the time.”).

Mary blows out a breath, and it hangs in the air like the puffs of smoke.

“Still pregaming. They’ll be by later. I wanted to give Suey the grand tour.”

Mary makes a sweeping motion, then wraps that arm around you. Ed and Dee’s eyes flick back to you.

“He’s a fucking liar; he was afraid one of you would steal me away.”

Ed coughs out the drag he was taking, and Dee snorts.

“You’re killing my street cred, woman.”

“Whatever, dude,” says Dee with a smirk, and Mary glowers at him. “You wanna bum one?” Dee holds out his pack as if in contrition.

Mary’s hand twitches, but he shakes his head.

“Nah, dude. Not unless it’s that chronic shit.”

“Yeah, they got those somewhere.”

“Cool. Cool cool cool.”

A few merrymakers exit the house—laughing and screaming—and they push by the lot of you as they presumably journey on toward another party.

“All right, dudes. We’re gonna go make the rounds, get some cold ones. See you on the other side!”

“Sounds good!”

“Do it.”

Mary ushers you inside, and—despite the open door—the warmth of the house hits you, making you feel suddenly uncomfortable in your winter coat. Like the outside, there’s a general mass of bodies that are sectioned off (in the hall; on the stairs; spilling out of the kitchen; lounging in the living areas) like music notes in a run of measures. You spot a worn-looking chair that’s piled high with coats, and you go to toss yours on, but Mary grabs your arm.

“Geez, Suey. You wanna get your coat jizzed on?”

“I—what?”

“C’mere, let’s not add our stuff to the pile that’s gonna make someone a nice sex bed later.”

He yanks your coat out of your hands and opens a door that leads to the hall closet. A beach ball tumbles out and is joyfully absconded with by a trio of party goers walking by, and Mary catches one golf club in his hand as it falls out from the top shelf and another under his arm. Unfortunately, he doesn’t catch the one that hits his booted foot, but you managed to stand on tiptoe enough to prevent the entire bag from depositing its contents on Mary’s head.

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

Between the two of you, you manage to get the clubs back in order from whence they fell.

You can see that there’s other junk up there and in the back—whether it lives there permanently or was just shoved in there pre-party, you guess you’ll never know—but there’s an entire row of coats on a rod, which seems to be the closet’s main purpose.

“Here.” Mary rifles through the mess until he finds a free hanger. It takes some adjusting, but he finally gets his leather jacket and your coat onto the same hanger and manages to squeeze it back into the mass.

“OK. Let’s go find Shonda.”

“Not Murray?”

“Apparently he’s elsewhere tonight.” He shrugs.

There’s a sudden squeal of voices, and when you turn, you see Kara and Elsie hurrying toward you. Elsie is in a sequined dress so garish it must be fashionable and Kara sports a sparkly red sweater over black jeggings that she’s wrapped fairy lights around.

“So you’re not dead!” says Kara

“Uh … no?”

“Christ, I would have called you, but I’ve spent the last few days with my head in a toilet,” laughs Elsie.

“Yeah, thanks for that guys,” says Mary. “What I really wanted to do at the crack of dawn was take care of this lush.”

“Pffft,” snorts Elsie. “You’re one to talk, Goore. As if your head doesn’t live in the toilet.

“Yeah, total karma, Mary. Remember that time you got your stomach pumped?”

“Jesus, Mare,” you say at him with a bemused smile. He scowls.

“Look. Honey whiskey goes down easy.”

Elsie and Kara cackle before grabbing up your hands.

“C’mon, let’s get you a drink, hon,” says Kara.

“What about me?” pouts Mary.

Elsie sniffs over her shoulder at him as she pulls you down the hall.

“Sorry, Goore. Girls only. Go set shit on fire or something.”

“That was once!” you hear Mary call down the hall after you.

“Wait—what did he set on fire?”

Elsie looks at you and mimics locking her mouth and throwing away a key.

The kitchen is full of bodies. In one corner, there’s a game of beer pong set up, and in the other, people are digging beer containers out of a giant cooler. On the counter are a few bowls half-filled with various snacks—the other half of which seem to be spilled over the counter and crushed into the linoleum floor. There’s a dark-skinned woman in a black & white plaid rockabilly dress and red cardigan who’s struggling to empty a bag of ice into a second cooler.

“Here—let me help, Shonda,” says Kara as Elsie leads you to the full cooler.

Shonda looks up. “Yeah, could you? Dunno where my asshole roommates are.”

By the time the two of them have the contents of the bag in the cooler—the cubes sliding in with a rough whoosh and plinking softly over the beers in the bottom—you and Elsie have fresh beers that she’s poured into solo cups.

“Thanks, Kar.” Shonda wipes her hands on the bottom of her dress, makes a face, then fumbles for a dingy kitchen towel hanging over the fridge door handle.

“Shonda,” says Elsie, catching the woman’s attention. She pushes you forward a bit. “This is Mary’s new squeeze.”

“Oh, um, hi.” You stick out your hand.

“No shit.” Shonda gives you a once over before giving your hand one firm shake. She nods a few times. “Yeah, ok. I see it.” She pats you on the arm. “Good luck with that.” She turns to Elsie. “Is that little shit here? We need to have words.”

Elsie jerks her thumb over her shoulder. “We left him down the hall.”

“He can run but he can’t hide,” Shonda says as she stomps away in impressively high red heels.

“Do I need to go defend his honor?”

Kara snorts.

“Nah,” says Elsie, waving your question away. “She’ll probably just make him do the heavy lifting the other stooges wheedled their ways out of.”

“He is stronger than those skinny arms make him look,” you muse.

Kara leans in. “Oh?”

You grin at her.

The two of them lead you into what must be a dinning room that seems to be the official set up for the snacks and libations. A bar with liquor and mixers have been arranged in the built-in, and there’s a folding table in the corner with an array of chips, snack foods, and a pile of wilted-looking pizza boxes. There’s a center table—which looks more permanent—that some sort of drinking game is occurring over.

You make a beeline for the pizza.

“I think I need a good base.”

As you juggle the pizza slices on a plate on the top of your cup, Kara and Elsie talk rapid fire across you, sometimes asking you questions (about you, about Mary, about you and Mary), other times going into long-winded stories about people you’ve never met, but are hilarious nonetheless.

“Fuck. I’m not drunk enough for this party yet,” Kara laments.

“Well, yeah,” says Elsie. “I thought we’d get our game on.” She pokes you in the belly, and you suck your stomach in away from her touch. “You done ‘getting your base’ yet?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” You dump the paper plate and crusts into a trash bag slumped in the corner.

About the time Elsie is squeezing you three into the game at the table, Mary wanders in. His face brightens when he sees you, and he makes his way over to you, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

“There you are, baby doll.”

“I thought I told you ‘girls only,’ Goore,” says Elsie.

He jabs a finger at her. “I gave you more than enough time to monopolize my girlfriend, Ford.”

“Just keep your dick in check.”

“I do what I want.”

For the next half hour, you engage in a rousing game of flip cup, which you have always been terrible at, but Mary seems to dominate. By the end, Kara and Elsie are hitting their buzz—playfully shoving themselves and others—and you’re beginning to feel more at ease in this sea of unfamiliar people.

Ed and Trevor wander in and motion to Mary, but seem to address the whole crowd.

“Yo!” says Ed. “Wanna go upstairs?” He stimulates smoking a joint at Mary.

“Yeah, man!” Mary turns to you. “You wanna join?”

You shake your head. “Can’t. I get tested.”

“Laaaame,” says Kara, and you jump because you didn’t realize how close she’d gotten.

“You sure it’s ok?” Mary scrunches his face.

“Yeah, Mare. Go! Be free!”

“Don’t worry, Mare,” says Elsie coyly as she drapes an arm around you. “We’ll take good care of Suey.”

Mary looks horrified enough that you think he might change his mind, but then Ed and Trevor are pulling him away. Elsie looks down at you.

“What did you do to that boy?”

You squint up at her. “What do you mean?”

Kara insinuates her way in between you and hands you both disposable shot cups.

“She means you’ve got him pussy whipped.”

You scrunch your face further. “Mary? He’s like a stray cat that shows up sometimes for food.”

“Is the ‘food’ ‘sex’?” Kara jumps her eyebrows at you.

Laughingly, you shove at her. “Maybe.”

Elsie throws her hands up. “PUSSY. WHIPPED.” She downs her shot.

You and Kara follow suit.

“Ok, but seriously,” you half cough as you wipe a dribble off your chin. “Mary does what he wants. I don’t tell him what to do.”

“Aww, hon—we know,” says Kara. “Elsie is just giving you a hard time.”

Elsie shrugs. “I’m a Class A Bitch.”

“She is,” agrees Kara. She turns her cup upside down; a few droplets drip out. “Hey, bitch—go get us more suds!”

“Demanding,” grips Elsie, but she turns to make her way into the kitchen.

You and Kara wander over to the food table to graze, the howls from the newest drinking game dolcet background noise.

“Hey, I know Elsie tends to make people butthurt, but she just has no filter.”

“Oh. No, it’s fine.” You shrug. “People tend to think I’m an elitist snob, so I try to be, um, more open minded.”

Kara grins at you. “‘Splains why you’re dating Mary.”

You throw a withered carrot stick at her. “Don’t fucking call me out like that.”

Kara laughs as she tries to block the attack. The conversation seems to stall after that, so you try and dredge up a question.

“So you guys know Mary from high school or something? Mary was … vague.”

“Just Elsie. That’s why she’s a little protective. He’s seen some shit.”

“Yeah, I know,” you say quietly. You turn to look at Kara. “Did they ever …?”

Kara waves her hand at you dismissively, swaying slightly. “Shit, we’ve all fucked around with each other at some point or other.”

Your eyes bug out. “You and Mary?”

She snorts, and leans toward you at a dangerous angle. “Well I never slept with Mary. But I’ve been with Elsie and Dee, and Mary with her and Trevor, and Trevor and Dee had a thing with Ed.” She screws up her face. “I think I got that right. I can never keep it straight, honestly.” Kara shakes her head out; then her expression changes and she bites her lip. “Shit. Maybe I shouldn’t’ve told you all that.”

You pop a Jax in your mouth. “Mums the word, sister”

As she’s giving you a sloppy, grateful smile, Elsie finally appears—tottering carefully—with three solo cups precariously balanced between her hands and tits.

“Shit—come get your drinks.”

You and Kara scramble to relieve Elsie of her haul without dropping the prizes as the drinking game breaks with an Awwwwwww.

“You guys wanna with another round?” Elsie throws her thumb over her shoulder as she sips from her cup.

“Fuck yeah, you know it!” exclaims Kara as she throws her hands up, beer spilling over the side.

After doing OK in a few rounds of Finger Spoof (you’re feeling the buzz nicely), you look around and realize you haven’t seen Mary in a while. You leave Kara and Elsie to their own devices and head into the kitchen. Grabbing your own solo cup in your teeth—ignoring it as some of its contents sloshes over the side and down your chin—you fish for a lite beer floating in the lukewarm cooler water for Mary.

If you can locate him.

He’s not in any of the rooms downstairs, nor is he outside with smoker’s club. You make your way up to the second floor, hoping he’ll be easy to find up there. There’s a door that’s locked and another where there’s a group hanging out on the bed and each other as Kpop loudly plays.

You find Mary in an open bedroom full of haze. He’s softly strumming an acoustic guitar—his fingers fumbling slightly on the unfamiliar strings as he tunes his way up the frets. He’s propped up in a corner, legs crossed under him, as the others in the room pass a joint around.

Picking your way carefully through the crowd, you make your way over to Mary. People shift and sway out of the way and scoot over when you smush yourself in next to him.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” You lean your head onto his shoulder, and Mary passes off the guitar to someone else. “Where’re Ed, Edd, and Eddy?”

He snorts.

“Went in search of snackies.”

He looks down at the beers resting in the small slick of condensation on the floor and licks his lips.

“One of those for me?”

“Yeah,” you say as you hand him the room-temperature bottle, which he takes up and chugs half of in one go. Watching his adam’s apple bobbing, you lean in to lick his neck. Mary jerks, then coughs, half spraying the beer out his mouth and nose. A few people squeal in surprise as you cackle, and Mary glares at you, wiping at his mouth and nose with the sleeve of his shirt that he’s curled over his hand.

“Fuck. You’re a pain in my ass.”

He drapes his arm around your shoulder, the bottle in his hand resting on your arm. The person who has the guitar now is strumming up a familiar song, and soon everyone is singing along (screaming or shrieking off key in some cases). Under the guise of getting his drink close to his mouth, Mary subtly maneuvers you into his lap—his other hand sneaking up under your shirt hem to rest on the curve of your belly with the tips of his fingers brushing just under one cup of your bra. You’re too loose from the drinking game to really care, so you lean back into his chest, warbling along to the tune as well.

You’re swaying, drink in hand, as you screech along to another song, when suddenly you become very aware of Mary’s erection pressing into your ass.

You turn your head. “Seriously?”

He rumbles into your ear. “Whaddya want? You’re squirming on my lap.”

Giggling, you purposely grind back on him, and he grabs your hips.

“Fuck, baby doll—keep that up and I’m gonna make a mess.”

You lean your head back on his shoulder as you circle your hips.

“You love making a mess, Mare Bear.”

He leans down to bite at your neck.

“I love making a mess on you. Not in my pants.”

“So stop me.”

Mary’s arm comes around your waist, effectively pulling you flush against him.

“FucK.”

More people wander in as the songs turn from nostalgic familiars to those of the drinking variety, and they raise solo cups and bottles in joyful celebration.

Everyone is sloppy; some sway to the rhythm of the songs, others drunkenly half mosh, spilling their drinks everywhere. You grinding your ass back into Mary—and him twitching up into you—is hardly a blip on anybody’s radar. His head thunks down onto the slope of your shoulder, his hips wanting to rut faster than subtlety or your own movements allow.

People are stomping, clapping, and spraying beer on each other as they half mutter words to drinking songs they realize they only half know.

Mary is a mess, trembling as he presses into you and mewling softly with each pass. Conversely, you’re having a grand ole time: rocking your hips as you sway and sing along to whatever the person in possession of the guitar is currently playing. Ignoring your own wetness and the growing throb in between your legs, you try to give him the pressure he needs.

You can feel his chest heaving into your back and the sweat from his forehead on your skin when it’s clear he’s getting close. His limbs shake as his arms squeeze you tighter, his movements almost stilling to nothing—and then he blows out a held breath like a drumbeat, his crotch pressing into you in pulses as he bites down into the juncture of your neck. Gasping, you spill a good amount of your drink as you jerk forward—Mary still rutting shallowly into you.

A few people cheer at your party foul—which hopefully takes any attention off Mary, who is clearly no longer hiding the fact that he’s cumming hard in his pants. He finally slumps behind you, his arms loosening and sprawling open.

“Shit,” he says.

You lean back. “Mmm … good?” you purr.

His hands sneak back under your top to sink into your flesh, and he leans up enough to whisper into your ear.

“You’re a fucking menace.”

“You could’ve stopped me.”

He growls. “You know what you touching my dick does to me.”

“Was I, though? Touching your dick?”

Mary rubs his face into your neck as his hands squeeze your chub.

“Close enough.”

“Get a room, Goore!” screams someone before some of the group toss a couple of empty solos your way.

Mary looks up and grins.

“Maybe I fucking will.” He starts to stand up, bringing you with him—probably to hide the wet patch on his jeans. “See you losers later.”

There’s a general chorus of hoots and whistles, but mostly the crowd goes back to their drinking songs.

“Are we really getting a room?” you ask—arousal curling—as Mary directs you around the second floor, hands on your hips to keep you in front of him.

“A bathroom, yeah.”

There’s a slight wait—one Mary fills with his roving hands and lips—before the woman ahead of you stumbles out, wiping her wet hands ineffectually on her party dress.

Mary ushers you in, locking the door behind you. The two of you look down to inspect the damage. It’s actually not terrible. You can hardly tell at all on his jeans, and Mary undoes them so he can half shuck them down. His boxer briefs are a completely different story; they’re visibly soaked through at the top, and when he peels away the waistband, he reveals a sticky, slimy mess coating his stomach and flaccid cock.

“Shit. This may be a lost cause,” he says as he inspects the inside of the fabric.

“TP?”

“Yeah, unless you wanna lick it off …” Mary looks up at you with a smirk. “Which would be kinda hot, actually.”

“Sorry,” you say as you roll toilet paper around your hand, “but I like my jizz how I like my coffee: hot and fresh from the source.”

He runs a finger through the mess and then wiggles it at you. “It’s still kinda warm!”

You wrap your mouth around it because it’s the last thing he expects you to do.

“Uh …”

He’s momentarily rendered speechless as he watches you suck his finger clean and then smack your lips as if appraising.

“Nah. None of that reheated crap either.”

He blinks down at you. “Should I be horrified that I’m rubbing off on you?”

You give him a smile with your tongue half sticking out as you rub the wadded up toilet paper across his belly.

“I’m pretty sure I was just rubbing you off, Mare.”

Mary’s hands come up and sink into your hair. “Shut up.” He pulls you into a deep kiss. “Fuck. Love it when you tease me,” he says as he pulls away.

“I know.” You beam up at him and continue trying to clean him up.

He looks down at himself. “Fuck it.” He goes to toe off his boots, realizes that he’s wearing his “dress boots”—the less-scuffed ones that lace up to his knees—and snarls in frustration.

When he goes for the medicine cabinet, you step out of the way and toss the slimed wad of paper into the toilet. Making an Ah-ha! noise, Mary turns to you and snaps a pair of hair scissors triumphantly.

“Do the honors, will ya?”

“Wait—you want me to … cut your boxers off?”

“I’m sure as fuck not taking these boots off or spending the rest of the night marinating in my own jizz.”

You snort at him. “Whatever you want, Mare Bear.” You shuffle forward and hop up onto the sink. It only teeters a little.

“Hey! Hurry the fuck up in there!” comes a male voice through the door accompanied by banging.

“Fuck off, I’m taking a dump!” barks Mary.

“Dude,” says the voice, but the banging stops.

Mary shifts forward into the V of your spread legs as he hands you the scissors. He keeps his face close to yours. “Try not to cut off anything important,” he breathes at you.

“Of course—you’re no good to me clipped.”

His eyes meet yours, then travel down to his crotch. Carefully (willing your eyes to focus), you start from the top down, snipping the fabric—bunching it up with each shear—until you reach the end of the leg up to the crotch, Mary only flinching slightly (“Careful with the goods, woman!” “Fucking hold still!”). Once each side is cut, Mary and you work together to pull each half free.

As you ball up the front half to toss into the trash basket, Mary uses the back half to wipe up the lingering stickiness coating his cock and stomach.

“Better?” you ask when he’s finished and zipping his jeans back up, the other half of his boxers joining its twin in the trash.

He wiggles a bit. “Eh, it’ll do.” You expect him to back off, but instead he crowds closer. “What about you, baby doll? Maybe I should check on you.”

Before you have a chance to respond, Mary is shoving up the layers of your skirt and pressing his hand into your damp tights. You gasp at the sensation.

“Hmm,” he rumbles, “seems like you could use some clean up yourself.”

And then he’s maneuvering his head in between your spread legs, trying to position your knees over his shoulders. You let out an Oh, as your hands fly down to brace yourself on the edges of the sink; Mary growls in frustration as he tries to first pull down your tights, then to rip them apart to no avail. Before you can stop him, he’s picked up the shears and has snipped a slit in your crotch.

“Mary!” you yelp, but he just dives back down, tongue wiggling through the rip in the fabric to trace your seam before delving into your folds to flick at your clit. At the burst of sweetness, you moan, and your head thunks back into the mirror.

Head swimming, you lose yourself in the feel of his tongue as it swirls around your nub and then presses into it a few times before he’s sucking it in between his plush lips. He repeats this process, sometimes running his tongue down to your entrance and then back up, and at others holding the tip directly on your clit until you start squirming in frustration … only to then flick repeatedly back and forth.

A finger enters you, and you cry out, “Oh fuck,” as you tighten around it. Mary starts to slowly ease it in and out of you as his tongue continues its massage of your hardening clit. You’re really squirming now, rocking into his mouth and down onto his finger—making sure you light up every sweet spot. You feel like a guitar string wound too tight, ready to snap, and your pussy pulsates in warning.

Mary sets his tongue speed to 11, and you feel the tidal wave of your orgasm start rushing toward you. You let out a squeak as your one hand sinks into Mary’s hair right before your climax breaks, and you start bucking into his mouth. Like a good boy, he manages to follow the lead of your hips until your pussy stops popping and your body relaxes—your butt slipping down into the bowl of the sink.

After catching your breath, you look down to find Mary’s twinkling eyes staring up at you from beneath the layers of your skirt. You pet down the side of his head with an Mmm, and his eyes close as he leans into the touch.

“I think you only made me stickier, Mare.”

His head tilts to rest on your one leg.

“Not my fault you get wet as fuck. There’s only so much I can lap up at once.”

You shift up into a sitting position as Mary wipes his face—and the lower part of his makeup—onto your tights.

“Shit. Are the tights a lost cause too?”

“Stand up?”

You hop off the sink, and Mary inspects your backside. He gives it a slap before saying, “Nah, I think you’re good. Just a little damp.”

You crinkle your nose. “Well, I feel slimy. Turn around so I can take care of business.”

Mary peers into the mirror to even out his smudgy face before slurping some tap water from the faucet as you get your situation into a tolerable state.

When the two of you exit the bathroom—Mary’s arm draped back around your shoulders—there are two guys lounging on the bottom of the stairs leading up to the 3rd floor. They look up at the sound of the bathroom door opening, and one scrunches his face at you.

“Dude. I thought you were taking a shit.”

He holds up a blackened Yankee candle.

Mary shrugs at him. “We don’t kink shame here.”

The guy’s companion bursts out laughing even as you elbow Mary in the ribs. He just laughs as he says, “C’mon let’s get some suds.”

The two of you make your way back down to the kitchen where Shonda The Beer Færie has replenished the coolers again. Mary shotguns a can—foam spritzing everywhere—as you search for the elusive opener. Unable to locate it, you try—and fail—to pop the top off on the counter.

“Gimme,” says Mary—belching—grabbing for your bottle. After fishing for another bottle in the ice, he aligns the caps and pops them both with the other.

“My hero,” you say in an affected tone as you bat your curled eyelashes at him.

“That’s fucking right.” He makes an arm in an attempt to bulge his bicep.

You test it with your hand. “Nah. Too small, throw it back.”

Pouting at you, he says, “You’re the worst, and we’re in a fight.”

You shrug as you take a swig of beer. “Eh. I got what I wanted.”

Mary makes a grab for the bottle, but you twist out of his reach and bolt out of the kitchen. He doesn’t catch you before you seek sanctuary in the living room. All the furniture has been pushed against walls, the rug rolled and resting in a corner, and more bodies than there should be are packed into the center as a party mix thumps from the speakers.

You wiggle your way into the crowd and run into Kara and Elsie, who shout Hooray! and pull you into their bump and grind. The 3 of you raise your drinks into the air to avoid spilling on each other as you rock and sway, alternating who gets sandwiched.

Suddenly, Mary is at your elbow.

“Hey! Gimme back my girlfriend!”

“Sorry, Goore,” says Elsie. “Finders keepers.”

For a minute he looks genuinely put out, but then he just smirks. “Whatever, I’ll just enjoy the view.”

“Pig,” Kara spits.

Mary shrugs and starts to do a god-awful wiggle that you think is supposed to be dancing. He has the rhythm—and his ass jiggle is pretty nice—but that’s about all he’s got going for him in the moves department.

The mix must be trying to appeal to all types, but ends up being a spastic mix with no eye for continuity. Nineties Girl Pop transitions into Metal, which transitions into Country, then into Alternative, then to 80′s Power Ballad, then R&B, then Punk.

After screaming along to “Toxic”, Elsie leans in. “Fuck, I’m about to pass out. I need to get some air.”

“Want me to come with you?” asks Kara.

“Up to you, dear.”

They look at you.

“I should throw Mary a bone.”

Kara smirks at you. “Kinky.”

Elsie rolls her eyes at her friend. “C’mon you bitch ass.”

Seeing his opportunity, Mary gives a head nod as he seamlessly switches places with them. He pulls your back into him as his hands come round to rest on your hips.

“Good thing you emptied my dick earlier, or we’d have a problem,” he murmurs into your ear.

“Don’t be gross.”

“K.”

You and Mary grind or shimmy or jump depending on what the song calls for, your beer long drunk by now. At some point someone opens a window, and the chill, near-January air curls in—its icy but brisk tendrils working their way through the crowd. You shiver a little as the sweat on your skin tingles and cools at its touch, and Mary pulls you in tighter.

Meatloaf comes on—🎶 On a hot summer night, would you offer your throat to the wolf with the red roses? 🎶—and Mary snuffles his face into the crook of your neck, you tilting your head to the side to give him access.

🎶 Will he offer me his teeth? 🎶

He worries at you with his teeth.

🎶 Will he offer me his hunger? 🎶

His blunt teeth sink into you, and you let out a pleased rumble.

🎶 And will he starve without me? 🎶

“Yes,” he whispers into your ear right along with Jim Steinman.

You roll your eyes even though Mary can’t see you do it, but you let him spin you out—jostling the other revelers—and back into him (stumbling) as the drum beat drops. He tries to twirl you, but the crowd has packed back in around you, and all you accomplish is tripping over his boots.

🎶 …I was dying just to ask for a taste 🎶 he mouths at you.

“You’re fucking ridiculous,” you say.

He leans in and nips at your lips, but you turn your head to whisper in his ear.

“I gave you a taste earlier, mister.”

“Mmm, but I’m greedy.”

You let him mouth at your neck as the two of you sway back and forth, Mary’s hands dipping lower and lower.

A sudden commotion is like a record scratch, and everyone turns to the front hall. Mary’s bandmates come into sight—caterwauling with 12 packs of shitty beer held aloft—encouraging the cheers of the other partygoers.

One spots Mary and points his finger at him.

“Goore! Goore! Goore!”

The other band members pick up the chant.

“Goore! Goore! Goore!”

The crowd takes up what has become a war cry:

“Goore! GOORE!  G O O R E !”

Mary points back, then puts his hand up in supplication at you as he backs his way out of the room.

“You’re a goddamned tease!” you cry after him.

He shrugs before spinning on his heel to be assimilated in the group, the chant turning into whoops and hollers as they make their way into the kitchen.

Mary had warned you that the band usually did an unplugged set, and you surmise they must need to set up.

Without Mary or the girls, the dance room has lost its appeal, so you meander around the first floor. The drinking games have devolved into “Never Have I Ever,” and while the pizza is gone, a homemade-looking mac and cheese dish in a tinfoil baking pan has appeared.

You pile some onto a paper plate (whose structural integrity you seriously question) and are content to watch the proceedings until a girl in the circles demands you squeeze in with a slurred “None of this wallflower shit!”. They shove a solo cup into your hand, which is then promptly filled with whiskey from a Jack bottle.

For the next hour or so, the guests on either side of you—Lila and Marty—become the best friends you never knew you had while you all hoot and catcall each other to the escalating scenarios. The bromance comes to a swift end, sadly, when Dee appears in the doorframe, sees you, and points dramatically.

“It is time for the festivities!” he yells in deep baritone.

“I’m being summoned!” you yell, and there’s a chorus of boos as you wobbly make your way over.

“Come, yon neophyte, and join us at the gathering spot.”

“Lay on, McDee!”

Dee leads you out into the backyard, which is done up with myriad bulb lights. Mary winks at you as you pass him on the porch—picking your way around the hodgepodge of instruments—before you join Ed, Trevor, Kara, and Elsie at one side of a well-used iron fire pit on the grass. The girls are passing a flask back and forth as they snuggle you in between them.

It should be fucking freezing out, but with the alcohol, the body heat, and the fire, you actually feel quite cozy. There’s a buzz of voices as the band arranges and tunes the borrowed instruments. You think you can see human shapes on back decks in other lots, but it’s hard to tell through the glare of the lights.

The band members take their places, there’s a countdown, and then Mary and the guys jumpstart into their first crowd favorite. While there are some general cheers at favored sections, the intimacy of the party and the lack of mics or speakers make it a quieter affair than their venue shows. You and the girls sway back and forth in your triplet, and even the guys are fist pumping and mouthing along. They play two more of their own songs before doing a few classic 80′s punk covers that really get everyone hyped.

It’s not perfect—none of them are sober, they’re unaccustomed to the instruments, and the cold air isn’t helping dexterity. At one point the lead singer forgets the words and just la la las his way through the verse, which in turn sends some of the other members into a musical stutter. Not everyone is invested in the whole set—some people went back inside after the first few tunes, and others see the band as just background to their conversations. Those who are fully invested have gravitated closer to the porch—but your group of Mary’s bffls are content to hang out by the fire pit where a few people have started roasting marshmallows.

After an … interesting … mashup of “Rudie Can’t Fail” and “Classics of Love” that sounds like a physical representation of a key smash, the band closes ranks, and there’s some whispered conversation and emphatic gesturing.

“Ok!” says Donnie, the lead singer. “We’re gonna switch things up. Usually on backing vocals, Goore is going to take lead for our last song.” There are some boos that probably have more to do with the set ending than Mary singing, but also some whistles that are probably for Mary. “Yeah, yeah, I know. But it’s a party for us too!”

“Huh,” says Elsie.

“What?” you say into her armpit.

“Mary hates lead.”

You know. He’s mentioned ad nauseam.

Mary steps forward and takes position up front. When he brushes his forelock out of the way, he looks up briefly and catches eyes with you. You give him thumbs up. A grin breaks out on his face, and he winks at you. Slowly, he strums chords until he finds what he’s looking for, and you can tell he’s humming along quietly—it’s a familiar sight now to you, but you wonder how much of this crowd has seen Mary chart out a song.

Finding the key he’s looking for, Mary clears his throat. His voice isn’t rich in timbre, but he rasps out with feeling, and his pitch is near perfect.

🎶 So I hear you been wondering I've been wondering too Just what this crazy world has in store for me and you 🎶

You’re surprised at his choice, and you feel your face burn. Mary’s eyes flick up to you—glinting boyishly—and you stick your tongue out at him. He slows the song way down as he sings, changing the frenetic energy of the original into a soulful ballad to which he can growl along.

🎶 You scratching to find a way A tortured soul back from the grave O Baby Doll back to kill them all Now please won’t you stay 🎶

Mary pauses, looking full up at you before taking in a deep breath. A few heads turn to see who he’s looking at. You scrunch your face at him to convey your mortification, but he just shakes his head at you—he’s not going to stop.

🎶 Baby Doll whoa Baby Doll I need you I love you Baby Doll whoa Baby Doll O Please come back to me 🎶

You suddenly feel naked under the interested gazes of the curious onlookers as Mary continues on. He’s mostly singing at the guitar, but his few pointed glances at you make it clear who he’s singing to.

🎶 The tortures of your soul The rotting flesh pain never dulls O Baby Doll you will kill them all Now please come to me 🎶

You try to sink back into Elsie and Kara, who just push you forward again.

“Dude,” Elsie breaths at you.

“This is awesome,” says Kara.

“I’m going to fucking kill him,” you mutter through your plastered on smile.

Some of the amassed crowd—which suddenly seems to have multiplied—start clapping to the slowed beat, and it causes a ripple of well-timed claps as well as those who can’t keep a rhythm.

Strumming in deliberate strokes, Mary looks up to hold your eyes once more.

🎶 I see you standing there In the shadows and in the rain A lifeless beauty Nothing could ever ease you of all your pain But Baby Doll the revenge you seek I dunno It will never be sweet But you'll never give it up Now come to me Come on 🎶

You shake your head as Mary continues to repeat the chorus into a soft fade. There’s a moment of silence after he’s finished, and he points out at you.

“Give it up for my very own baby doll!”

Applause breaks out and you give him double Fs.

Mary sets down the guitar carefully as Donnie steps forward again.

“All right! That’s it, motherfuckers! We’re about an hour away from the New Year, so grab a drink and sign up for our mailing list if you haven’t already!”

The crowd is whooping and whistling. A few people crowd up on the porch, as do Trevor, Ed, & Dee. Mary shakes hands, shoulder bumps, and backslaps his bandmates and some of the crowd, but his eyes are on you.

“I’d fuck him,” says Kara with a smirk.

Elsie groans. “Please don’t fuck in front of us. At least find a broom closet.”

You turn to her and give her a wolfish smile. “Who says we haven’t already christened it?”

Elsie buries her face in her hands as Kara tipsily attempts to fist bump you and ends up smushing your tit.

“Whoops! My bad!”

“Bitch, we’re cutting you off.”

“No, you’re not. Who would you do shots with?”

“Suey’s more than capable.”

You make a “who me?” face.

“Mebbe, but I think her mouth is spoken for.”

You’re about to respond, but arms suddenly encircle you, a mouth presses to your neck, and you squawk.

“If you’re not Mary Goore, you better watch your nuts!”

“I’m me, and I have to watch my nuts, anyway.”

You squirm around so that you’re facing him.

“Forget your nuts, I’m going to fucking kill you.”

“Aaaand on that note!” says Elsie, and she and Kara pat Mary’s arm before heading inside.

He looks down at you with hooded eyes.

“Whatever. You’re pleased. You fucking love that song.”

“Oh? Am I?”

“Yeah.”

“And what makes you say that?”

“I still have my nuts.”

You narrow your eyes at him, then point your finger in his face.

“You’re on thin ice, mister.”

“Mmm, I can think of a few ways you can take it out of my ass later.”

Your stomach flips, and you press into him, grabbing his jaw.

“Damn right I will.”

Mary bites his lip as you wiggle your hand in between the two of you to palm at his crotch. He closes his eyes and sways a little 

and that’s when you step away from him.

“C’mon—my cup is empty. I need a refresh.”

Mary’s eyes pop open, and he whines while making an exaggerated puppy-dog face.

You snap your fingers at him. “That’s for earlier.”

There are still enough people mingling outside that it takes a while for the two of you to actually make it back inside—some are Mary’s friendly acquaintances he wants to say hi to and others are fans he can’t help but chat up.

“We’re going to be on Instagram again, aren’t we?” you say when you finally start your trek inside, his arm lazily resting around your shoulders.

His head turns to face you, and he gives you an impish smile.

“Tell me if I give a shit.”

You quirk your eyebrow at him. “You might give a shit later.”

His smile turns vulpine. “Promise?”

Your hand slips into his back pocket and squeezes.

It’s actually pretty close to the ball drop by this point, so you and Mary grab up two of the bargain plastic champagne glasses you find lined up in rows on the kitchen counter. When the cheap champagne starts being passed around like you’re all in a pirate shanty, you hold out the glasses (Mary’s already lost the base to his) for a fill.

There’s no way everyone is going to fit in the living room; the majority of the attendees are spilling out into the hall, up the stairwell, and out onto the porch, with you and Mary are squished in by the stairs—but the volume for Rocking New Year’s Eve is turned up so loud the speakers are fuzzing, and a few people are streaming it on the phones.

“T-Minus one minute!” someone screams, and a cheer goes up.

“Oh shit!” you exclaim and start digging around in your bra.

“What?” asks Mary as his eyes flick down to your tits.

You retrieve two silver dollars, warmed by your skin, and press one into Mary’s free hand.

“What’s this?” He holds the coin up at eye level.

“Silver dollar. If you hold onto one as the year turns over, it’s supposed to bring good fortune.”

He looks at you skeptically as he turns it this way and that. “Does it work?”

You shrug. “Can’t hurt. My grandma swore by it.”

“THIRTY SECONDS!”

“Where d’you even get these?”

You grin.

“Amazon.”

Shouts come from the living room: “10 … 9 … 8 …”

Mary turns to face you, and the two of you take up the chant.

“7 … 6 … 5…”

He crowds a little closer, the fist holding the coin draped over your shoulder with yours resting on his hip.

“4 … 3 … 2 …”

You don’t get out the “1” because Mary smashes his mouth to yours—just a hard press of lips to lips—then he’s pulling away to press his glass to your mouth. As you try to sip out of it, you fumble your own glass to his mouth. The two of you only succeed in spilling half the contents all over each other before conceding defeat.

There’s some shrieking a moment before everyone in the hall gets sprayed with foamy champagne. Since there really isn’t any room to escape, Mary and you try your best to duck and cover, laughing as the droplets come raining down. The beach ball from earlier comes out of nowhere, and you punch it back into the air, the plastic of it slick from the champagne shower.

Everyone is still screaming, separated friends are trying to find each other amidst the revelry, and some dude on the stairs is shouting Tennyson over an off-key rendition of “Auld Lang Syne”.

“Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky!” 🎶 Should old acquaintance be forgot, 🎶

Elsie and Kara are jumping up and down from where they are in the living room, pointing, and starting to make their way to you.

“The flying cloud, the frosty light!” 🎶 and never brought to mind? 🎶

The beach ball beans you in the face, and Mary takes it and lobs it onto the porch where it hits the back of Donnie’s head, causing the rest of them to cackle and holler back.

“The year is dying in the night!” 🎶 Should old acquaintance be forgot, 🎶

Like magic, Mary procures a half-full bottle of bubbly from the train of people maneuvering in the hall and takes a big swig before passing it to you. You chug the rest, coughing as the lukewarm bubbles fizz up your nose.

“Ring out, wild bells, and let him die!” 🎶 and auld lang syne? 🎶

Laughing, Mary wipes at your face with his sleeve, and you realize he’s still got the silver dollar clutched tight in his hand.

Song List

Next ➡️