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sukirichi · 3 years

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sweet lies [02]

His lies were way too sweet – and you were too addicted to make him stop.

cw. explicit smut, slight body worship, public sex, dirty talk, praising, toxic megumi, fwb dynamics, slight angst, body marking, sukuna bullying megumi, age gap, scratching, mentions of oral (m receiving) and mutual masturbation, the traditional unedited fic

note. choose your fighter, megumi or sukuna 😈 also UHM do you guys want me to make the ending angsty or fluffy? i wrote out two versions so LOL let me know what you think! we’ll get more of the megumi scenes on the next chapter though~

series masterlist | 01 | 02 | 03

Sukuna isn’t kidding when he said he’ll have you unable to walk by the end of this.

You’ve lost count of how many times you guys have fucked.

Once more in the stalls when you thought of repaying the favor by sucking him off, followed by him growing impatient and hauling you inside his car. Both of you were too tired to go for another round, but were still very much addicted for the other’s touch that mutual masturbation seems like the best option.

Thankfully, Sukuna’s cut his nails, so having three of his fingers buried knuckle deep in you feels like absolute heaven. He’s not complaining about your smooth hands wrapped around his shaft either, especially not when you’ve had enough practice with Megumi to know just how to make a guy lose his mind. By the time you’ve made it back home, Sukuna’s grown hard again, too impatient to make it to the bed before he just fucks you raw against the wall. You’re trembling at his hold, left with no choice but to trust his strength to drop you on his cock and bounce you to his pleasure.

It’s a miracle you’ve made it on the bed.

His digital clock reads a quarter at three in the morning, and for a moment, you worry about how tired you’ll be in class tomorrow when Sukuna’s large hands grips your thighs sharply.

“Goddamn,” he hisses through clenched teeth, chuckling at the irresistible sight of your breasts bouncing before him. Limbs tangled, minds controlled with the primal need to fuck, and moans shared with his deep grunts – you somehow end up on top of him, your thighs feeling like they’re on the verge of giving up as you continue to ride his thick length.

“You are so fucking sexy,” he slaps your ass and causes your hips to rut deeper, forcing that delicious curve of his cock to meld with your walls. You throw your head back, palms planted on his chest, focused only on that burning pleasure between your thighs. “I could fuck you all night long.”

Even though you truly have no wish to, you shake your head, fingers balling into a fist. “I have class tomorrow, need to wake up early,” you protest, the words falling into deaf ears as Sukuna thrusts up into you. He must’ve noticed how you’re growing tired and took matters into his own hands, feet grounded on the mattress to pound deliriously into you. You’re debating whether to be thankful or frustrated he still has so much energy even after hours of fucking, but it honestly doesn’t matter. You’re falling into his chest, arms slipping on your equally sweat-covered bodies. Right now, you just wanted to cum – once more, again, one last time! “Ah, Sukuna, t-too much!”

“Too much?” he laughs and tangles his hand to caress your scalp, the gesture too soothing that you almost forgot he’s fucking you into oblivion. “Want me to go slow?”

“No…”

“Thought so, sweetheart,” his grin is absolutely cocky as he bends his knees in a fold, pushing you until your back rests on his muscular thighs. Your mouth falls open at his hands wrapping around your threat, keeping you right there, hips flat and grinding on his cock. “Come on. Come for me,” Sukuna urges, tightening his hold around your neck a little harder.

That’s all you need for your vision to blur and see stars, your body’s shaking uncontrollable. He’s thrusting with all his power and energy that it feels like you’re nothing but a hole on top of him, tongue falling open in a wanton manner as your drool trails down your chin.

You look filthy, you feel filthy, and yet, Sukuna sees it entirely different.

“So – fucking – gorgeous, fuck. I woulda fucked you sooner if I didn’t feel weird about it.”

“What?”

“Aw, come on, sweetheart,” he smirks at your half fucked out state. Sukuna rolls his hips in such a mind numbing manner that you end up staring at the ceiling, trying your hardest to decipher the colors of his room to get a grip of yourself. But he feels so hot, cock throbbing and pulsing inside you, your puffy lips encasing him with a translucent ring of cum and it feels so fucking good you don’t really understand what he’s saying anymore. “Did you really think I never saw you in my dreams?” he slaps your ass again, the reflexive response of tightening around him pulling a deep groan from the beautiful man beneath you. “I have such a sexy roommate, I couldn’t help it.”

“Then why didn’t you – ah, right there, shit – tell me?”

“Cuz,” he snickers and finally lets you breathe, your pupils blowing wide from the sudden flow of air. Sukuna kneads your breasts greedily, never stopping his mind-numbing rhythm of ramming deep into you. Your body burns, your thighs ache, your pussy feels sensitive but you can’t find the energy to stop him. Instead, you fall prey, failing in your mission to keep him wrapped around your fingers because now you’re wrapped around his cock, and you were quite fucking addicted to it. “You’re my friend’s student. Felt so fucking wrong.”

“What’s the difference now?”

“The difference is,” Sukuna’s face contorts into something of discomfort for a moment before he leans forward, his sturdy grip homing in on your hips again. You feel his searing breath on your ear, so parching it puts the warmth of your pussy to shame. “Having you like this has never felt so right, and I’ll keep fucking you if you let me.”

“I-I’d let you,” you concede absentmindedly and capture his lips for a sloppy kiss, tongues giving up on a battle of dominance. You’re always so clingy when you’re about to come, something Megumi never fails to chastise you for, and you fear Sukuna might push you away as you wrap an arm around him, nails painfully scratching down his back. Red marks leave a trail on its wake until his blood pierces through the sheets, the pain manifested through the increasing roughness of his pace. Now it’s your turn to whimper in his ear, pulling the man close and tugging harshly at the ends of his hair. Gosh, were you actually crying? “Sukuna, I’m close! Yes, yes, right there!”

Sukuna groans at the erotic sounds you reward him with. “Come for me, that’s right, ohhhh,” he stills inside you, his seed spilling deep inside you. You wince at the burst of warmth spreading all over your belly and Sukuna chuckles at your bulging belly. He presses down on it to coax his cum to trickle all over his cock, and he’s fucking filthy – you learn easily – to watch you make a mess on his cock with a childish smile on his face.

You push yourself off him and fall to his side, him following suit not long afterwards. The room feels completely stuffed from your intense fucking, the bruises on your body and scratches on his back a huge attestment to that.

Your legs remain wide open as you clench around nothing, his cum oozing out like a waterfall. Sukuna (that damned pervert) dips two fingers into your hole for one last moment just to drench his fingers in it, his eyes lit up in wonder while he lets it web around his fingers. You snicker at his actions and roll to his side, eyes fluttering close from the wave of exhaustion that comes into full force.

The lingerie set you intended to wear for Megumi was now ripped at the other side of the room, discarded, forgotten – merely evidence of a moment that had never been given to him.

Oddly enough, you don’t feel bad, not even when Sukuna faces you, his cheeks squished by his soft pillows. “I’m spent. I don’t think I’ve ever been this tired. My gym sessions can’t compare to this.”

“You go to the gym?”

“Yeah. I wasn’t born this gorgeous, you know. I had to work hard for this,” Sukuna gestures to his body. You can’t help but follow the gestures and admire the hard planes of his muscle ripped above one another, the smatter of dark hair leading down his hips adding to his already immense sexual charisma. It makes you want to jump on him all over again, and you have to bite your lip to resist that urge, rolling your eyes at him in favor of letting him know you could totally go for another round.

“Dork.”

“Got me laid though, was worth the effort,” he jokes, and you both laugh.

It’s actually…weird, to laugh so casually with someone like this. It might be normal for Sukuna in his past sexual endeavors, but it’s totally a different thing for you. You and Megumi had never even bothered with aftercare. As long as he’s satisfied himself, he’d clean himself off in the bathroom and wear his sweatpants, winking at you before he leaves you alone all over again. The memory – albeit not really a regrettable one – is still painful each time you’re reminded you’ll keep coming back to him.

But are things different now? Could you go back to Megumi? You only ever wanted to fuck Sukuna because you’re sad and horny, but it wouldn’t be fair to him, especially when your roommate has been nothing but nice to you. Besides, him being a little more decent doesn’t immediately equate he’s different than Megumi.

For all you know, you could just be another cheap fuck. Sukuna is older and sexier, after all, he’s clearly had a lot more experience than you do.

As if reading your mind, Sukuna rests his head on his palms, elbows flat on the bed as he turns to you. The expression on his face is unreadable, but there’s some sort of softness behind it – a softness you’re not really familiar with.

“Hey. I don’t exactly know what you’re going through, not everything, anyway, but whatever we have right now, I want you to know it’s not because I see just as a pretty pussy, okay?” he says with a straight face, but you really shouldn’t have gotten your hopes up because Sukuna smirks, mischievous eyes darting back and forth to your soaked pussy and bare breasts. “Although you do have a pretty pussy. Can I eat you out again?”

With that, you snatch the pillow underneath him and whack it straight at his face. Sukuna laughs at your protests, the sound growing louder and a lot more mocking the harder you hit him. “Gosh, Sukuna, shut up!”

You end up hitting him way too many times in the face that he can’t get his words through, and before you could react, Sukuna’s ripped the pillow away from you. He cages you in his arms and hovers over you once more, his boneless dick grazing the insides of your thigh. It’s not meant to be sexual, and nothing about his stance gives off anything that shows he wants to do it again, but you can’t help but feel aroused, shifting your legs up and down the bed as you squirm.

“Seriously though,” he repeats, “We can be casual, or this could be a one time thing. Card’s all yours to play. If you want to forget everything tomorrow, I’d gladly do it. Let’s just go back to the way we were-”

“Sukuna.”

“Yes?”

“Did you really think I was only using you to distract myself?”

Sukuna’s lips flatten into a line. “I’m not stupid,” he says somberly, “I could tell you were still thinking about him. Not that I mind, though, you can’t stop yourself from loving someone,” Faintly, you’re distracted by his thumbs rubbing at your pulse point. It’s so lulling you want to fall asleep, but Sukuna isn’t done talking. “My point is…you don’t have to worry about being weird with me. We could just be friends with benefits, if you want, and not the kind you have with your boy toy either. ”

His blatantly catches you off guard and your eyes widen before they narrow at him, trying your best to hide your embarrassment. If Megumi was painfully honest, Sukuna’s ridiculously blunt that his mere words make your heart do weird things you’d rather not feel.

Careful, you remind yourself, Megumi is the one you want. You have to keep reminding yourself that before your feelings get the best of you. It’s Megumi, it’s always been Megumi and it always will be Megumi. Sukuna is just your roommate who’s nice enough to take your mind off things. You only wish you weren’t lying too much in case he gets the wrong idea you’re leading him on, but then again, isn’t that what you’re doing?

Friends with benefits or not – you still have no plans on getting involved with this guy any longer.

It’s always Megumi. You just really needed a quick fuck, someone whose dick didn’t belong with the guy you’re so hung up on over. The change feels nice and you definitely feel a lot better than the last time you met Megumi, but this guilt…it tastes bitter on your tongue, too heavy to swallow and ignore. It’s always Megumi, you tell yourself again in an attempt to relieve your pain.

Though it doesn’t subside and you huff in exasperation, turning away from Sukuna. You can’t stand looking at him right now.

“I’m not,” you mumble weakly, but the tears – the guilt, the heartbreak of not being Megumi’s lover, the regret and the ironic need to be closer to Sukuna feels all so confusing – all threaten to burst through. You don’t want him to see you cry, that would be lame, so you scoot closer to him and kiss his shoulder as you shyly ask, “C-can we cuddle?”

“Of course,” he chuckles, pulling you closer, “You don’t have to sound too nervous to ask.”

“Sorry, it’s just-”

“He never does that?”

“…Yeah.”

“Well, I’m not him,” Sukuna answers confidently, surprising you when he grabs your ass to press you flush against him. You’re both sweaty and hot to the point it’s uncomfortable, but Sukuna smells so sweet with his lingering cologne that you can’t help yourself from planting your face in his neck, breathing in the little hums he makes. Sukuna kisses the crown of your head – which is a little too sweet than you’d like – while his other hand runs down your back in a slow, sensual manner. Hell, it feels close to body worshipping, and you hate that you silently want more of this. “I’d cuddle you every day if you asked me to.”

“You’re surprisingly sweet,” you voice with a smile. Sukuna’s chest rumbles from the low laughter, and like that, you cling to him like he’s the only sturdy pillar in your life. It’s pathetic, maybe even desperate, but if he doesn’t mind, then why should you?

However, the moment is quickly ruined when the bell rings. “Shit, I forgot he was coming over!”

Sukuna glares at the door and holds you tighter, almost possessively, and refuses to let you go even as you squirm under him. “At three in the morning?”

“Yes, but I don’t want to meet him right now,” you groan helplessly.

Sukuna shoots you a blank look after that, then shoots out of the bed in an instant. You watch as he quickly dresses up in a fresh pair of sweatpants, grabbing a random hoodie from the back of his chair, presumably to hide the scratch marks. You have to hide your smile behind your hand because he looks so drool-worthy with marks littered on his already marked skin, and the fact he lets you mark him is even hotter.

He pauses at the door for a moment, pointing a finger at where you peered up at him curiously. “Stay there. I’ll talk to him and say you went out or whatever. Just make sure to silence your phone in case he calls. Better yet, turn it off.”

Sukuna closes the door behind him, already on the way to the entrance just as you press your ears against the door to eavesdrop. There’s a slight shuffling before the door unlocks, then, “Why the fuck did you lock-” Megumi pauses in his words, and you can perfectly picture his infamous scowl painting his handsome features already. Gosh, you wish you could actually see it, but if Megumi catches you sleeping with someone else, he might totally lose interest in you. That’s not something you could afford to happen.

“Oh. You’re her roommate.” You snigger at his usual what the fuck tone – how Megumi of him.

“Hey, kid, it’s a little too late for a visit, don’t you think?” Sukuna taunts, and it takes everything in you to not burst through the door at that moment. You’re stuck between wanting to laugh and crying, mostly because you would love and hate for Megumi to get riled up. “Do your parents know you’re here? Kids shouldn’t be out this late.”

“I’m not a fucking kid, I’m in uni,” he defends, “Do you know where Y/N is? I need to talk to her.”

Deciding fuck it, you open the door by an inch, just enough to peek. As expected, Megumi is glaring behind Sukuna’s shoulders in search of you. Meanwhile, Sukuna’s completely calm, checking his nails boredly as if Megumi isn’t fuming in front of him. And boy, do you know how much Megumi hates being ignored. “Oh, I think she went out, I don’t know why though. House was empty when I got here.”

“She didn’t tell you where she was going?”

At Megumi’s imposing tone, Sukuna tilts his head to scrutinize Megumi. Now that you’re seeing them together, Sukuna’s twice the size of Megs, their height and shoulder width too different to start comparing. But knowing Megumi, he’s not going to back down from a tattooed guy twice his size, not even as he sarcastically remarks, “Ain’t you her friend? She should be telling you that kind of stuff.”

Truthfully, you expected he would put up more of a fight. The two of them share a heated staring competition before Megumi scoffs, the first one to look away. “Whatever,” he dismisses, “Tell her to pick her damn phone up. I’ve been calling for the past hour.”

“I think I should tell her to get better friends.”

“What was that?”

“I said get home safely,” Sukuna chirps. Even with his back turned to you, you could tell Sukuna’s just further pressing his buttons with a grin that’s not meant to be inviting at all. Just when you think it’s done, however, Sukuna finishes off with, “Kid.”

Megumi rages. His blue eyes flame into something feral, his fists balled at his sides. He’s always had a temper issue and you nearly reveal yourself to stop whatever fight is about to ensue, but Sukuna’s already closing the door, ridding any opportunity for the younger one to retaliate. At the sound of the door closing, Sukuna leans against the door, his smile still plastered on his face as if he knows you’re watching the whole time. He meets your eyes from the slight peep of his door, waving his hands sarcastically.

“Sukuna, you didn’t have to be so mean.”

“Sorry,” he isn’t apologetic at all. “Next time I’ll be nicer to your asshole crushes,” he adds with a slight roll of his eyes and you punch his chest playfully. You don’t stop him from grabbing your wrists to embrace you in a hug that doesn’t seem so platonic – but not so suggestive either. Sukuna rests his chin on top of your hand while he sways you both side to side, his voice muffled in your hair. “I understand why you’re attracted to him though. He’s really handsome.”

“Yeah, he is,” you agree sadly, thinking of how much it’s really all a waste Megumi has to be like that. “Just sucks his personality ruins everything.”

“A pretty face is always deceiving,” Sukuna suddenly pulls away and holds you an arm’s length away. “Hey, want to have early breakfast?”

“I think that would be late dinner,” you frown at him.

“Whatever, food is food,” he responds rather excitedly, and you watch as Sukuna rummages through the fridge. Now that you think about it, having sex so much really took a toll on you, and your stomach grumbles loudly. Sukuna hides his chuckles through the fridge but you hear him anyway, shouting at him that you’re not hungry. “Wasn’t asking, sweetheart. Now go get cleaned and changed, I’ll make something for you.”

If anyone were to tell you that a good fucking is all that’s needed for you to immediately form a new kind of friendship with your roommate, you’d call them weird. Sukuna isn’t necessarily out of reach, you and him just simply didn’t cross paths.

But now, you’re dressed comfortably in his boxers and the oversized shirt you stole from him, eating the slightly burn cheese sandwich he’s made, sharing conversation and laughing with him like you’ve been doing it for such a long time. Your sandwich is actually half forgotten on the plate as you whack your palms on the counter, “That’s how you and Prof Gojo met? I never would’ve expected you guys fought over a girl!”

“He was fucking annoying in high school,” Sukuna grumbles over an angry bite, “He was getting all the girls that when someone confessed to me, the hottest chick, no less, he straight up punched me in the face,” you laugh as you imagine the memory of a younger, already rebellious looking Sukuna getting smacked by the even more intolerable Gojo Satoru. Sukuna is lost in his own memories as well, shaking his head from around the last bites of his bread. It’s clear he hates the burnt crust judging from the way he turns a little green, but he’s bragged about his cooking skills so proudly that he has to save face in front of you. “Ah, such good times,” he muses before wincing at his own words, dropping his bread in disgust. “Damn, I sound old, don’t I?”

“You’re only like, five years older than me, it’s fine,” you giggle, “I like the maturity that comes with older people. You’re a lot easier to be with than guys my age.”

“Please,” Sukuna smirks, “Just say you like fucking older men. I won’t judge.”

If anyone were to tell you that you would be jumping over the counter to strangle your roommate who’s now running like hell, your laughter bursting through the once silent apartment, you would call them a liar. But now, you and Sukuna are panting on the floor, too tired from sprinting all around before calling it quits. Maybe it’s a lie – maybe this connection will never really be that much of a big deal – but as long as this lie and play pretend of friendship lasts, you’ll just enjoy every sweet moment of it.

taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed) (bold can’t be tagged) @uwubby-1 @expectoscamander @your-consulting-fangirl @dora-the-grownup @cosmotoic @charlie-xo @kittaliapenn @sukunas-cult-leader @flowersgirl02 @cloudsinthecosmos @90s-belladonna @averysheart-raleighsdick @generousstudentpsychic-bat @kat-su-ki @issamomma

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader smut #ryoumen sukuna x reader #ryoumen sukuna x reader smut #sukuna smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #sukuna x reader angst #sukuna x reader romance #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader imagines #jjk #jjk x reader #sukuna x reader imagines #ryoumen sukuna imagines #sukuna imagines #sweet lies: part two

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outofsstyles · 3 years

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a/n: This is by far THE MOST requested fic I’ve ever had and (a year later) it’s finally here!! First of all, sorry that it took me so long but when I first wrote Wildest Dreams I never intended on it having a follow up, but the amount of love I got from it was so overwhelming that I decided to put this together for you all :) I’m not gonna lie, I’m a bit nervous about it, considering the amount of requests I’ve had the past year, I know there’s gonna be a lot of expectations and I wanted to do something a bit different so it’s not too predictable lol. So yeah, as always, feedback is very much welcomed!! If you enjoy please reblog it to support my writing, it would mean the world to me <3

word count: 13.7k

warnings: none!

concept: It’s Evan’s birthday and he decides to do something a bit different.

Wildest Dreams: read part 1 here :)

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

In the last two steps, you have to use your leg to support the box as it starts to slowly slip down your fingers. This serves as a reminder to start exercising again now that the midterm is over — meaning that you should finally give in to Nia’s pleas to join her in the free week of Pilates classes she got when signing in at the gym, “Exercising is one of the best ways to relieve stress!” She would argue, to which you’d simply reply with something along the lines of: “So does binging another trashy reality tv show!”

Thankfully, no one seems to notice your struggle, sparing you the embarrassment of listening to their teases due to your difficulty in carrying one of the smallest boxes of the bunch. Nate barely glances at you once you finally reach the car to hand him the box, only shooting the longest smile you’ve ever seen coming from him—which somehow still manages to be probably the quickest when compared to any other regular person. His girlfriend, who stands with hands on her hips, entirely held his attention. Nia’s purple strands of hair poke out of her half-bun in every direction and her bottom lip has found its permanent spot between her teeth as her eyes fixate on the vehicle in front of her, barely blinking.

“Everything alright, Ni?” You prompt, trying to even your breathing. “Forgot something? There’s still time to check.”

“It’s not that.” She mumbles, shaking her head to break out of her thoughts. “My keyboard doesn’t fit.” Nia nods at the instrument lying on top of the car’s ceiling.

“Oh,” You say, frowning your lips as you take in her stressed figure. Clearing your throat, you attempt to blurt out a joke, “Maybe it’s a sign you shouldn’t move it and stay right here in our little flat with creaky doors.”

She breathes out a sharp laugh, finally looking at you as she drops her arms. “Don’t start.” She warns, “You promised; no crying today.”

“Don’t worry, I’m good at holding back the tears.” You give her a soft smile, pulling her smaller frame into a hug. The sudden reality of your best friend and roommate leaving you hitting you at once. “Gonna miss you, Ni.”

You feel her sigh into your shoulder, arms circling around your middle. “I’ll be ten minutes away.”

“Not the same.”

“I know.”

The two of you sway in silence for a moment, and you watch from over her shoulder as Nate attempts to awkwardly pick up the keyboard, almost dropping it on the sidewalk in the process. He grunts, the instrument tilting in his arms, and you giggle as you hear Nia sigh once more. Tightening your arms around her, you release each other as she turns to check on her boyfriend who holds the instrument as you would a newborn — except this one is half his size and hard as a wood plank.

He glances between the both of you, helpless. “Uh, where does this go?”

“You can put it with the other big boxes upstairs, babe. We’ll take them Sunday.” Nia says, moving to close the trunk. She looks back at him, calling back in a sing-like voice before he disappears inside, “Thank you!”

You lean back against the car, a playful pout plumping your bottom lip. “Am I only seeing you again on Sunday, then?”

“Nope, I’ll pick you up for Evan’s birthday — did you forget about it already?”

You have. “Of course not. It’s on — tomorrow.”

“Is it tomorrow?” Nia gasps, eyes widening. “Holy shit, tomorrow’s Friday.”

You nod slowly, just as shocked as she is about how quickly the past couple of weeks have flown by. Between piles of book reports and stress-tear-stained essays during midterms week, you also had to find some time to help Nia with packing boxes while searching for a new roommate for yourself. If you managed a five-hour sleep on these past days, that would have been a well-rested night. So you can’t really blame yourself for forgetting about Evan’s birthday when Nia herself had it slipping through her mind.

“This is an emergency,” Nia says, eyes focusing on a point beyond you and, you feel like, if you listen close enough, you can hear the engines inside her head working. “I’ll have come here earlier so you can help me with my outfit.”

You chuckle. “What even is the theme this year?”

“He didn’t tell me,” Nia says in a huff. “But, on the bright side, I don’t think this year he’ll do anything too crazy — he was too busy these last couple months with that short film I told you about, remember?”

“Evan doing something low key? That’s a first.” You raise your eyebrows, skeptical.

“I mean, I don’t know. I’m just guessing.” Nia shrugs, picking at her nails. “I’m only saying because he mentioned once he was only inviting, like, twenty people.”

Now, this is a surprise. “I’m glad I made the cut, then.”

It’s not a secret to anyone who’s ever had any kind of interaction with Evan that he’s fond of the dramatics of life — his bright-colored outfits with mismatching patterns being the first example that comes to mind — and that reflects as well in his events. Especially when it comes to his birthday.

To be fair, you’ve only actually been to two birthday parties of his so far — considering the invitation usually finds you because he’s close to Nia and sees you as some sort of extension of her. Nevertheless, they were both impactful enough that left a clear impression of how much he enjoys celebrating himself. Last year in particular you remember quite well. It was what he called “Evaney” themed; being a mix of himself and his favorite artist: Britney Spears. And, while you and Nia showed up as one of at least fifteen different variations of the Baby One More Time schoolgirl outfit, Evan pulled a perfect match of the Oops! I Did It Again red bodysuit that he got one of his fashion student friends to tailor for him, as well as freshly dyed beach blonde hair to suit it. He even went as far as photoshopping pictures of himself on Britney’s body and had them printed on posters hung on every single room of the house. There were even custom-made cups and napkins with them — two of them that Nia stole at the end of the party still sit somewhere in your kitchen to this day.

Another particular thing you remember quite clearly was that there were enough people crowded in his living room to fill up your entire apartment, as you recall. And that’s about how a typical event at his home is like — even on his friendsmas dinner there were much more than just twenty people eating turkey out of disposable hot pink plates. So, Nia’s information leaves you wondering what he could have in mind for tomorrow with such a limited list of people.

Before you can voice your wonders to her, though, Nate pushes through the entrance door again. You can tell he, much like you minutes ago, is trying to cover his heavy breathing. “I left it on top of those big boxes with a bunch of books in ‘em.”

“Brilliant! Thank you, baby.” Nia grins, wrapping an arm around his middle. “By the way, we just remembered Evan’s birthday’s tomorrow.”

“Is it tomorrow already?” Nate asks, and you hold back a giggle at the way his face scrunches in discontent. He hates going to Evan’s to a point that’s nearly comical. “Fuck’s sake.”

“And I think I’ll come here early so we can get ready together.” Nia nods towards you.

Nate grunts. “Do I have to go this time?”

“Of course, darling.” She rises to her tiptoes to pinch his cheek, to which he brushes it off.

Nate looks at you, and you only send him a tight smile in solidarity. The two of you share similar experiences with Evan, considering the only reason either of you even gets invited is that because you’re close to Nia, and she’s close to Evan. Although you like Evan, even if you’re not that close with him, you can still put on your social mask for a couple of hours and have fun at his parties. Nate, on the other hand, is likely the least sociable person you’ve ever met, and it’s obvious how uncomfortable he gets every time.

Nia seems to sense how tense he gets as well, because she steps in front of her boyfriend, finding his eyes with her doe-like ones. “I mean, if you don’t want to, then you don’t have to.”

He sighs, “Of course I’ll go with you.” He looks up at you. “Maybe this time we can actually count how many faces of his we can see from the couch.”

This time you don’t hold back a giggle. “I have a feeling we’ll have an easier time this year.”

“Hope so.” Nate taps on Nia’s back. "Let's go, then? Is everything you need in the trunk?”

“Yup.” She answers, circling the car and opening the door to the passenger’s side. Before entering, she gives you one last look. “Do you want me to bring anything for you tomorrow?”

“I’m good.”

“‘kay!” She enters, closing the door behind her in a click and leaning over Nate to wave at you from his window. “See you tomorrow! Don’t cry too hard tonight!”

“I won’t!” You wave back.

Watching as the car pulls back, before driving away and disappearing around the corner, there’s a light breeze that raises goosebumps on the exposed skin of your arms. You cross them under your chest, leaning back into the wall of your building, not quite ready to go back to your empty home yet. The seconds blend into minutes and you stand there The promise you made to Nia not even a minute ago already pooling in your eye, knowing you wouldn’t be able to keep it anyway, you let it tickle its way down your cheek.

A rougher gust of wind hits you and, this time, you turn to go inside.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

The days are still not long enough so that the sun can shine proudly at seven in the afternoon, but as spring just about rounds the corner there’s still a golden glow as the rays provide one last warmth before disappearing on the horizon. And that’s how the sky greets you once you step out of your building to make your way towards Evan’s house for his birthday.

As planned, Nia arrived at yours with plenty of time so the two of you could help each other get ready, a bag filled with clothes she’s just taken to Nate’s yesterday under her arm for you to help her choose. “I’m thinking something monochromatic tonight.” She said as she walked in, making you jump in your spot on the couch as you didn’t hear her using the spare key. “I’m just not sure what color.”

She ended up choosing red. There was an old box of red hair dye you found lost inside the bathroom cabinet after Nia left — along with two different brands of shaving cream, although those belonging to Nate — and, after presenting it to her, she decided to go all for it, taking it as a sign. Nate showed up just about an hour after his girlfriend, still in his work attire and barely batting an eye at Nia’s new hair color as she blew dried it. The only comment leaving his mouth being, “You look like a tomato,” before kissing her forehead and excusing himself for a nap while the two of you finished getting ready.

What neither of you realized was that Nia’s last-minute decision took more time than you predicted, giving you barely enough time to get dressed. To her, that wasn’t exactly an inconvenience considering she had an outfit ready to match any color she wanted — in this case, was a red-dyed denim two-piece. and a matching jacket that ended up discarded after she noticed it covered her newest shoulder tattoo (though you tried to argue she could just have Nate carry it so she could wear it considering she eventually would get cold at some point). To you, however, was more of a stressful task, seeing you hadn’t taken in mind to think of an outfit beforehand. So you ended up just going with the safest option that didn’t give you a lot of room to overthink, choosing to finish your makeup on the way so Evan wouldn’t have any of your heads on a plate for being late.

You’ve found that applying mascara on a moving vehicle is not the easiest task, as Nia holds your elbow to help you keep steady while talking nonstop with the driver about a topic you stopped paying any mind to about ten minutes ago.

“I’m loving our black and red moment, by the way.” She turns to you, loosening her hold as you finish the last coat. “You look like one of those hot businesswomen with your teenage daughter who likes to dress like an animated character.”

You laugh at her comparison, only now noticing the discrepancy between both your outfits. Without even realizing it, you also ended up going for the monochromatic look. Except unlike Nia’s, yours completely lacks any color. “That’s actually the best comparison you could make.”

“I know — You can take a left right here — Here, I have lip gloss.” Nia fetches a small tube from her jacket (that she ended up taking, after all), presenting it to you.

“Do you not have lipstick?”

“Are you not planning on smudging it later?” Nia wiggles her eyebrows, teasing. The hint behind her words makes you roll your eyes, snatching the lip gloss from her hand without bothering to give her an answer. There was about a month or so, just before winter rolled around, that Nia felt as if she had a mission to get you with someone. You suspect, knowing too well how her mind works, that she must’ve felt some sort of guilt for what happened during her film project last year. It was clear that her attempts came from a place of good heart, but this doesn’t mean that it made them any less annoying. However, after her plans to move in with Nate became more concrete, her cupid persona seemed to have disappeared, or so you’d thought. But now that there’s nothing else filling her mind anymore, it looks like she’s back at it, and you can’t help but snort. “What? I’m just saying-”

“You say a lot of things, most of them are incorrect.” You say, “I’m not smudging anything tonight. Not on a party with twenty people, for fuck’s sake.”

“Don’t say that before — right there! The big house on the corner!” Nia leans over the console, signaling to the driver where to park. It’s so sudden that you notice how he jumps just slightly from his seat, chuckling to yourself at how Nate snaps his eyes at her.

The front of Evan’s Victorian home is unusually quiet once you step out onto the sidewalk. So much so that, if it weren’t for the lined cars parked along the street and filling his driveway, you would’ve thought you’d typed in the wrong address.

The discrepancy is clear to you when compared to other gatherings Evan hosts in his house, but especially for his birthday. Last year, you could hear Toxic blasting from his place from the moment you turned on his street, and a small crowd gathered on his front yard — most of which you recall being comprised of people plastered out of their minds, particularly one semi-naked man who was using one lamppost as a strip pole while swinging a stuffed snake

That’s more or less the standard one could expect when invited to a party at Evan’s. So, to find the street as silent as any regular day is, to an understanding, odd.

“Are you sure it’s the right date?” You ask as the metal creak of the front gate mends with gushes of wind whistling through the air.

“Yup,” Nia says simply, walking in front of you. “You can hear the music inside, shush.”

You come quiet, listening in, and, surely, you can hear the faint keys of a piano coming from the other side of the stone walls, but it only brings up more questions to your head than answers. Evan seems like the last person on Earth who would listen to classical music. Deciding not to voice your question this time, you follow short behind Nia, kicking some loose stones on the gravel path leading to the front door.

There’s no need for more than a single knock for it to open almost immediately, revealing a lace-clad Evan downing the last bits of his wine. Without the barrier you can hear the music more clearly, the keys of the piano meshing in a peculiar way, not like anything you’ve ever heard in a classical song— at least not ten years ago when you tried to learn piano for a year before giving up.

“Look at my favorite people!” Evan says with his purple-stained lips, pulling Nia for a hug with the arm that’s not holding the door open while pointing at a spot behind her. “Did you greet Jonathan when you passed him? It’s his birthday as well.”

He points to a spot where a gnome statue sits in the dry grass, face painted in clown makeup. Nate’s voice comes from behind you, “Christ.”

“Nate!” Evan chirps, going straight for the man standing with a sharp smile and throwing his arms around him. “You know you’re my favorite grumpy, right?”

Nate only taps on the shorter man’s back, quickly moving to Nia’s side as soon as he’s free from the embrace. With that, Evan turns to you, hands finding your elbows as he takes you in, “And what have you been up to, bug? It's been ages.”

“You know… Books and… Stuff.” You chuckle, brushing it off. “Happy birthday, E.”

“Thank you!” He claps his hands together. “Now, c’mon, let’s get all of you started.”

Following him inside, you’re met with a glittery box standing right next to the entrance; rolls of tape seal it shut, and a hand-sized hole has been cut on top of the lid. You try to peek at what could be inside, but strings of colorful crepe paper are stuck to the hole, making it harder to know its contents.

Evan picks up the box, holding it to his side. “So, I need each of you to grab a piece of paper inside the box. There will be a number in it but for now just hold on, drink, and chat while waiting for further instructions.” His voice lowers at the end to give his words more of a mystery behind them.

Nate tenses in front of you and you have to keep yourself from chuckling at his desperate gaze moving from the box to his girlfriend as he moves uncomfortably on his feet. Nia, however, only gives him a pat on his back, barely looking at her boyfriend as she does a little dance in excitement. “Oh, this feels fun.” She says, quickly reaching her hand inside the box and retrieving a piece of paper. “Mysterious, but fun. What do you have in mind, sir?”

“Nothing too crazy this year, darling, you can relax — We’re all too tired.” He moves the box towards Nate, who reluctantly reaches inside. “Just something to mesh people together that won’t give me too much of a headache to clean tomorrow.”

“Smart.” You say, peeking at the box as it’s presented to you before reaching for a paper inside, quickly reading the number eight written on it before folding the piece between your fingers.

“Nice! As always, drinks in the kitchen. We’re starting in ten minutes!” Evan claps, hushing the three of you further inside.

Surprisingly, this time around there are no posters of his face in sight as you follow Nia and Nate to the kitchen. There’s a mild mash of voices coming from the living room — where the sound of the piano is the loudest, and you wonder if he got an actual piano or if it’s just a Bluetooth speaker —, but it’s not nearly as loud as you’re used to from past times. The lighting has been lowered to a buttery yellow; you realize once you enter the kitchen that feels too bright to your eyes in contrast to the hallway.

“Is there any alcohol?” You wonder out loud, and Nia glances at you with her eyebrows shot towards her hairline. “What? I’m just asking ‘cause everyone is unusually quiet.”

“There’s wine and — what are these guys right here?” She picks up one out of four plastic jars sitting on the kitchen island, reading the label stuck to it out loud, “Strawberry Mary — ooh, this looks fun.”

You reach for the other three to check their contents, but all have names similar to the one Nia now fills her cup with — fruity, yet mysterious: Lana Banana, Jenny Berry Mix, and Pineapple Suzan. “Did he come up with these?” You chuckle, reaching for the berry mix.

“It was probably Adam,” Nia says, and you frown. “That bartender guy? The one with the pet snakes.”

“Oh, yeah. I know him.”

The room comes quiet as you serve yourself, and only after you glance up you realize a tension lingering in the air. Nate stands awkwardly in a corner, eyes fixed on Nia as he moves his head around subtly. Glancing between the two of them, you notice how their expressions change as they keep their eyes locked, not a single word being uttered out loud. To you, it almost feels as if they are reading each other’s minds, and the heat of their silent argument becoming clear once Nate huffs, shaking his head.

Nia clears her throat, seemingly uncomfortable, shooting you a knowing look. It’s only when she gives you a toothless smile that you realize the silent question behind it. “Uhm, I’m going to check if there are any sweets outside.”

Beelining towards the doorway, you quickly make your way out of the room. The hallway is empty and, from where you stand awkwardly in the middle of it, you can tell Evan’s left his spot by the front door, meaning he’s likely gone to the living room where the rest of the guests are. You can hear them chatting, although like you previously pointed, the voices are much more controlled than what you’re used to, and that makes you oddly flustered by the thought of walking in alone.

Considering the limited amount of invitations this year, the chances of you knowing anyone are slim and, to add to your sudden nervousness, most of the people from Evan’s closest circle of friends are — like himself — inexplicably intimidating. This is mostly because it feels like this unspoken competition that everyone has settled with each other, to subtly brag about your success whilst simultaneously pretending to be impressed about the other’s accomplishments. And for you specifically, considering you’re not part of this artist clique that they lock themselves into, it feels particularly tiresome to be part of those interactions.

So, you opt to wait for Nia, pretending to admire one peculiar painting hanging on a wall opposite to where the doorway leading to the living room stands. Every so often, you catch yourself glancing over your shoulder one way or the other, either towards the kitchen to check if your friends are joining you, or to the doorway where the rest of the guests are in. At one point, the voices get louder, joining in a laugh before tangling together in a mess of noise you can’t make sense of. It’s after a minute that you hear footsteps coming from the living room, making you freeze on your spot, carefully turning your back to whoever’s about to catch you avoiding the party, and focusing on the piece you’ve been staring at for the past five minutes.

The painting you first thought was just random strokes of earth tones abstractly put together you now realize it’s a man and it doesn’t take you more than a second or two to recognize Evan’s side profile in a peach shade. Your hand claps on top of your mouth as you fight the urge to laugh. The sound comes out muffled, but it stops as you hear the footsteps falter as they turn into the hallway. Keeping you back to them, you listen as the wooden floor creaks as whoever was approaching makes their way back. You peek to catch sight of who it might be, but all you make out is the shadow of mustard corduroys turning the corner.

As if on cue, Nia and Nate finally appear from the kitchen, thankfully neither appearing to be sour after the talk in the kitchen.

“Finally.” You say, still feeling giggly from your finding. “Nate, you have to check this-”

“Okay! Let’s start, then. Do we have everyone in the living room?” Evan’s voice interrupts you as he calls out. Nia guides you along with her to the living room. And, as soon as the three of you enter, Evan nods at you, before continuing, “Now that all the bunnies are trapped, we shall begin!” He laughs, clapping his hands together before motioning vaguely to everyone. “Before I explain what I have planned, I want to pair you all. So, I’ll call out the numbers that each of you picked when you arrived, so everyone can find their pair.”

You frown, confuse yet curious about what Evan’s up to as he calls out the numbers. Now that you stop to glance around the room, you note how there are more people than you’d expected. It’s still not nearly as many as previous parties of his, but it still feels like the room is nicely filled, maybe just a dozen people above twenty. And amongst them, there’s quite a few you recognize as they pair up together — like Georgia, the first one to be called, whom you spent a good half of the New Year’s party with, or Taylor, who gets paired with Nia (you remember him particularly from a film festival that Nia had been part of — he produced and directed a short film comparing the second wave of feminism to the wildlife in the Amazon Rainforest, and Nia couldn’t stop complaining about how bad it was for the entire week after).

It’s when Evan jokes with someone on the other side of the room, however, that you see him.

He’s tucked in a corner, right next to the bookshelves, arms crossed under his chest in a way that makes his tattoos pop out of his biceps, something you notice even standing on the opposite end of the room. His smile is subtle as he watches the scene in front of him, but it’s still enough for a dimple to poke at one side of his face -- it’s barely there, but you’ve seen it up close enough times that you notice those details. His hand holds a drink, but you pay no mind to it because what calls your attention is the mustard corduroy hugging his hips, the same one you watched run from you not only five minutes ago.

He laughs, and you avert your eyes, mouth still hung open. You wonder if anyone will notice if you leave.

But, as though he could read your mind, Evan calls the number written on that sits crumbled inside the pocket of your jacket. “Where are my number eights?”

You step forward and, like a magnet, your eyes glue on Harry as he raises his hand.

Shaking your head in disbelief, you have to fight against an urge to shut your eyes tightly as the regret of having left your room at all tonight becomes almost overwhelming. All you expected for the night was to forget about book reports and endless essays piled up on your computer, to relax, maybe drink a bit more than you should while watching Evan’s friends dancing with a taxidermy beaver or something of sorts (that was on his friendsmas party two years ago). Instead, here you are on what feels like the first day of class dynamic your teacher has imposed to make everyone interact with each other. And, suddenly, the long pages of (insert boring book) don’t seem that bad right now.

And to make matters worse (because the universe just likes to add a little more spice to your tragedies) of all people standing in this living room you just had to be paired with the one with whom you had a fling-like relationship six months ago.

It’s awkward before he even approaches you, the tension making you fidget in your spot anxiously, barely being able to shoot a tight smile his way.

The last time you saw Harry was through the rearview mirror of a car, standing on the sidewalk like an abandoned puppy with his tail between his legs. Though you admit you let your dramatics take away when you turned away from him to leave, the feeling behind it was genuine. You were upset. He had led you on, after all, made you think he wanted to have something more just to ignore you for months and, later, appear with a redhead under his arms and call her his girlfriend. So, yes, it wasn’t the best note to leave on.

But despite how you left the last encounter, the spark of nervousness that shoots through your stomachs right now doesn’t come exactly because of his presence, but more so for the awkward nature of this encounter. At the time it happened, you avoided any activity that had the slight possibility of seeing him again like the plague. You were hurt, and you were mad — though the second part was more directed at yourself than at him. But that was six months ago. After all, as much as you felt enchanted by him and as much as those two weeks you spent together were nice, that’s all that it was: two weeks. Yes, you were sad and, yes, maybe you shed a tear or two while watching Love, Rosie with Nia afterward, but that passed as quickly as it came.

That is, until now.

“Your hair is shorter” This Is all you blurt out when he stands in front of you again.

“It is, yeah.” Harry runs his hand through his hair. The strands that last time you saw him, curled around his jawline, now peek just under his earlobe. “Did it myself, actually.”

“Really?” You take a big gulp from your drink, gaze going anywhere but meeting his own. “Found yourself another talent.”

“Another?” You can hear the smirk in his voice.

“I mean, besides acting.” You grin, holding the cup to your lips and sparing him a glance. “Suppose after your debut you’ve gotten yourself busy with casting calls”

“Of course” Harry laughs. Now that you’re closer you have a better look at his dimples as they pop out, as well as the constellation of freckles hugging his nose, and the mole right under his lips. You avert your eyes again. “I’m set to be the next Bond, in fact”

“Oh, wow.” You raise your brows, grinning at the brim of your cup. “I can see it.”

He turns to you, “Can you?” You peek at him. "Why is that?”

This is exactly what you were afraid of all those months ago after last seeing him. The entire reason you ran from any possibility of seeing him again afterward. You can still remember clearly how much of a flirt he is, even when he doesn’t mean to be. It’s not a secret that Harry’s a charming man. His words are like honey, and when he uses them just right, you know is enough to have you melting. And it doesn’t help how well you seem to click together. Even now, you still feel it by your impulse to flirt back, to look him in the eye, and get just close enough to feel the scent of his cologne. Do all that just to turn away in the last second. Tease him the same way he did you. But you don’t do any of that, of course, because you’re as petty as you are bitter. So, instead, you click your tongue. “Don’t get too comfortable, Harry, bet your girlfriend wouldn’t be happy about that.”

He chuckles. “What girlfriend?”

This time you turn fully at him, brows shooting up not in defiance, but surprise. “Yikes.” You say before you’re able to hold back.

“Yikes.” Harry still holds a smile when he repeats it, head falling as he lets out a — nervous? — laugh.

A question pops into your head. One that lingered in your mind for a good while now, but comes back a bit louder now that you have the information that his relationship was short-lasted after all. It’s a short one, but one that requires a long answer, you suppose. What happened? You think. But you don’t dare to voice it, you don’t want to have this conversation with him. Whatever the explanation is, it’s not going to change anything. So you just avert your gaze back to Evan, who now calls for everyone’s attention again.

“I know you’re all dying to know what this is all about. So, I’m going to explain it all.” And with that introduction, Evan dives into a monologue you only pay half mind to. It’s hard for you to focus on the words rapidly leaving his mouth as you can feel Harry glancing at you every so often from the corner of your eye. You listen in to Evan describing himself as a feisty kid and mention his love for drama, and then you feel the ghost of Harry’s arm bumping against yours as he sways on his feet. You try to pay attention to the story being told of the events leading up to this birthday party, and then you have to hold yourself back from meeting Harry’s eyes once you feel them at the side of your face once again. He makes a comment under his breath that you don’t quite catch, and you’re about to question him before Evan’s voice comes in an even higher pitch. “I wanted tonight to be exactly that: chaotic. I didn’t want anything to quite make sense, and I didn’t want to think much, if I’m honest, last year of film school is taking a big chunk of my functioning neurons and m’dad’s whiskey collection is taking the rest of them.”

There’s a collective laugh that takes place and, once again, Harry’s eyes peeking at you. “Everyone can relax, it’s not one of those murder mystery parties, as I’ve heard some people guess — for fuck’s sake as if I have the time and patience to plan something like that.” He says with a sip directly from a wine bottle you just now realize he’s been holding. “It’s a scavenger hunt, you have a partner and an envelope with clues. Each pair will find something related to moi and after it’s all done, we’ll eat burgers and talk about me for the rest of the night.”

“Sounds easy enough.” Harry mumbles.

Evan claps his free hand on his wrist, hushing everyone. “So off you go, c’mon! I’ll be hungry in an hour.”

“This is gonna be…” You start. “Interesting.”

“Interesting is a great word to describe it.”

“Well, let’s try to do this as quickly as possible, then.”

The side of his lips quirks up. “On a rush?”

“This is not exactly a comfortable position to be. I think you get it.” You say, fidgeting on your feet. You wait for a second for him to say something so you can start the activity, but he doesn’t and you realize there’s a piece missing. “Do you have an envelope?”

Harry nods, reaching for his pocket where the envelope sits folded in half. He swiftly opens it, taking out a card.

“Well?” You prompt, “Read us the first clue, Bond.”

There’s a smile that Harry fights against at the nickname and you’re not sure due to the dim light, but you think there’s a hint of a rosy tone on the apple of his cheeks. “An activity that grows lives and ruins manicures.” He reads out loud, pausing for a moment before laughing to himself. “I know this one.”

“Grows lives?” You frown. “As in, a pregnancy?”

Harry shakes his head, leading the way towards the corridor. “As in, gardening.”

“That’s a very weird way to put it.” You say, following him. “Does he garden?”

He walks into the kitchen, greeting two people you don’t recognize who are searching for something — their clue, you assume — inside the cabinets. “No, but his sister does. There’s a greenhouse in the back.”

You simply hum in response, muttering a quick thank you as he opens the door for you that leads to the back garden. The greenhouse is not unfamiliar to you from the outside, there have been a good amount of summer gatherings in his back garden for you to know of its existence. But you’ve thought nothing more about it. If you’re honest, you never really paid much attention to it. If anything, you assumed he used it as storage at most, never taking Evan as someone who enjoyed gardening. Though now you know you were right, you've also learned that his sister lives with him and you wonder why he’s never mentioned it before.

The curiosity inside of you wants to question Harry about it, to ask him what else he knows you don’t. When you think about it, there’s a lot you want to ask him about. Not just regarding Evan, but also regarding him. You wonder what he’s been up in the past six months if he ended up adopting the kitten he’d told you about back when you were still filming or if he read any of the book recommendations you wrote on his notes app one particular night the two of you chatted for longer than the moon could hold itself up in the sky. The part of you that begs for you to say something on the short walk is so strong you have to physically bite your tongue to be able to hold back.

You don’t have to hold for long, however, as Harry takes it upon himself to say, “So,” He starts, clearing his throat, “How- uh- how are you doing?”

Somehow, his words click something inside of your mind. They remind you of why you shouldn’t let that curious part of you win. The sole purpose of it not falling for his charm. You shake your head, “We’re not doing this.”

“Doing what?” He frowns, his steps faltering for a second.

“Small talk.” You answer, focused on your goal. “We’ll just solve this thing as quickly as possible so I can go back home and finish my Euphoria marathon.”

“Right.” Harry nods once, and you can’t help but notice the way his lips quirk down, the frown not leaving his face. You can’t lie and say it doesn’t make your stomach drop the slightest bit to see you’ve upset him, but you have to remind yourself how much he’s upset you, too.

It’s protecting yourself, you think. After tonight, you don’t have to see him ever again.

Inside the greenhouse, you’re greeted with a mix of scents you’re not prepared for before stepping in. The space is compact, with a single corridor narrowed with garden beds on each side. Dozens of branches and leaves tickle you as you walk in, most of them belonging to different flowers that, despite the chilly weather that still lingers outside, are already blooming. It’s a blend of colors, bright reds, and ocean blues, soft purple petals kissing pink and yellow ones.

“We should look for gloves.” Harry’s voice startles you, chuckling as you jump a bit.

“Huh?”

“Gloves.” He says. “I think whatever we’re looking for has to do with the gloves, ‘cause he mentioned manicure.”

“That makes sense.” You look around. Many gardening tools are piling under the tables that hold the garden beds; watering cans and empty pots. You look between bags of fertilizer and drawers filled with shovels. There’s so much stuff to look through that, at one point, you sit back on your calves, glancing around, lost.

You hear Harry leafing through as you’re doing, feeling his legs brushing against your back as he passes by and you stop, watching him from your spot on the floor. He’s got a concentrated look on his face, bottom lip worried between his teeth as he scans through the walls before he opens another drawer. That’s when his gaze falls, catching yours. You quickly turn away, pretending to go through another pile of empty pots and blocking the sound of a chuckle coming from his spot.

For a moment, the only sound in the room is the clicking of ceramics and the opening and closing of wooden drawers. That is until you hear from Harry, “A-ha!”

You look up again, seeing him move to the back where few pairs of gloves hang on the wall — so obvious yet still hidden between raincoats and summer hats. “Right under our noses.” You say, getting up.

Harry searches inside the gloves, tongue trapped between his teeth. “Bingo!” He says, pulling out two tiny bottles from inside one pair.

“What is it?”

“Liquor.” He grins, peeking at you from under his lashes before ripping a piece of paper attached to it. “It says ‘one for each, now get to clue number two.’” He holds up one bottle, offering it to you, to which you take it. “It’s chocolate flavored.”

“Of course it would be a drinking game.” You open it, feeling the artificial chocolate scent braid with the alcohol. “Christ.”

“Don’t smell it, or it’ll be worse,” Harry says, downing his with one quick tilt of his head. “‘S not that bad, actually.”

You mimic his action, letting the drink swiftly burn its way down your throat. Unlike Harry, you can’t help but scrunch your nose at the taste. “You’re a fucking liar.”

Harry only giggles in response, taking the empty bottle from you and placing it back inside the gloves, along with his own.

And then again, silence. You turn to the flowers to find some comfort.

A family of tulips glances back at you, their petals in a full red, it’s the kind of beauty you’re scared to ruin if you touch, so you just rest your hand on the wood. “They’re beautiful.” You only notice you say it out loud when Harry hums back in agreement.

“They are.” He says quietly but somehow feels loud by how close he is. “Tulips are my favorites.”

You stop, brows raising incredulously at him. “No, they’re not.”

“What?”

Cursing the universe for playing with you like this, you can’t help but laugh at the situation. “It’s just- they’re my favorites, too.” You look at him. “My nan used to plant them when I was little.”

“That’s sweet.” He says, smiling and you nod. “The red ones represent true love.” He points. “And the purple ones represent royalty.”

You blink at him. “Do you just look up tulip facts in your free time?”

Harry laughs. “Yeah, basically.” He looks down at you, and you can’t help but notice how the greenery around brings out the shade of his eyes. “I worked at a flower shop for a tick.”

“Really?”

He nods. “For eight months. My favorite part was writing on the store board every morning.” His face lights up as he recalls his experience. “I used to write silly stuff like, ‘one day I’d like to meet tulips.’ The old ladies loved it.”

You shake your head, breathing out a laugh. “You’re dangerous.”

“Dangerous? Why’s that?”

Because you’re sweet, you want to answer, because when I think I won’t get charmed by you again, you hit me with tulip puns. Your lip finds its spot between your teeth, you’d be damned to give him the satisfaction of hearing you tell him that, so, instead, you shrug. “Because.” You can tell he wants to dig more by the way his lip twitch up, teasing a smile, but you just nod towards the door before turning away from him and heading out.

There’s a distinct change of temperature when you step outside, and it’s only when you do that you notice the greenhouse was heated. Thankfully, the night is not too windy as it would get a week or two ago when winter was still insisting on making itself present, but it’s still chilly so that it makes you hug your jacket closer to your body. Harry also notices the difference, as you hear him wince as he steps out from behind you — unlike you, he’s not wearing anything to protect his arms from the cold, which only makes it harder for you to not ogle the tattoos hugging his skin.

“So, what’s next?” You prompt.

Harry reaches for the card again, taking it from its spot on his pocket before reading the second clue. “‘Not feeling too creative to write this one, it’s on the third tree on oak.’”

“I mean, at least we don’t have to think too much on this one.” You say, “Oak Street is the one to the left, right?”

“Yeah.” Harry sighs. “Can’t believe he’s making us go out on the streets.”

You start to make your way back towards the house. “Too tired for a stroll?”

“‘S cold,” Harry says, scrunching his nose. “Here, there’s a side gate.”

He guides you through a gravel path to where the black gate stands, hidden between bushes and branches. Strings of fern hug the bricked fence and the surrounding grass is high enough that it tickles your calves through your tights, making you believe this path has probably been left unused for at least a couple of months now. This information brings out an extra worry for you, as you take a better look at it, noticing how the gate is closed shut to the fence.“Is it open?” You wonder out loud.

“Shit, I don’t think it is.” Harry huffs under his breath. “But, I mean, we could easily jump it.”

You stop, turning to glance at him as the suggestion leaves his lips. He stands there, hands on his hips, examining the gate, tongue poking out as he frowns. After a second, he meets your eyes. “What? It’s not that tall.”

“I suppose.” You say, looking back at the fence that ends just below your shoulder length. It would be easy enough for you to climb it with a boost, however, “I’m wearing a dress.”

“Oh,” Harry scratches the back of his neck. “Let’s just go inside-” He turns back.

“Wait,” You stop him, not sure if it’s the slight amount of alcohol in your system already making you more adventurous, you train your gaze at the gate, analyzing it again, before looking back at him. Squinting your eyes, “You have to close your eyes.”

He laughs, “Are you sure?”

“It’s not that high.” You shrug. “But I need your help.”

“Of course.” He moves next to the brick wall, kneeling before it and nodding towards you. “C’mon, step up.”

Hesitantly, you glance at his thigh stretching his trousers, a sudden wave of insecurity hitting you. “Are you sure you can lift me?”

Harry simply puts his hand out in a silent request for you to hold. “Of course.”

“No peeking.”

He shuts his eyes tightly, chin meeting his chest as he looks down. And then you take his hand, feeling his fingers lock in a firm hold as he helps you use him for support. You hesitate again before using his thigh as a step, “Wait, I’m gonna ruin your trousers.” You worry, but Harry only shakes his head, still keeping it facing the ground, the strands of his hair falling above his eyes in a makeshift blindfold. When he doesn't feel you stepping in still, he encourages you with a squeeze in your hand.

You attempt to do as quickly as possible with your dress clinging to your legs, tightening your hold to Harry’s hand to step on his thigh. Once you let it go, you can still feel it lingering behind your back as you use your arms to boost yourself up the wall, sitting on it for a moment before jumping to the other side with a huff.

“Can I open them?” You hear Harry’s voice calls from the other side, and you smile, nodding even though he can’t see it.

“Yes!”

And then his face appears as he stands up in a jump, grinning at you. “See? Easy Peasy.”

“I feel like a teen sneaking out.” You say, and you instantly give another meaning to your words as Harry boosts himself up. This time, you certainly don’t hold yourself back from staring at the way his muscles flex at the movement, the tattoos on his arms stretching, and his shirt rolling up. He makes it look so easy, so effortless, barely taking five seconds until he’s jumping in front of you.

“That was fun.” He puffs, patting his trousers lightly.

“So, how are we finding the tree?” You ask, taking a quick glance to where his hands brush on the fabric of his trousers. “Should we read the clue again?”

“I know which one he’s talking about,” Harry says, nodding to the left before beginning his stride in that direction. You follow him, trusting his words as the two of you turn the corner where Evan’s house is located.

The street in question is much calmer than the one you were just in, with no cars coming or going from the residences — that stand much closer to one another, you notice, giving the whole street more of a narrow feeling to it --, which is not exactly odd, but certainly is a contrast with the main street that Evan’s home faces, that one being more lively with people either coming home or leaving it to enjoy their Friday night. The sudden lack of background noise makes the walk to your destination a tad awkward, as none of you make an effort to strike a conversation. Instead, you resort to silently observing the surrounding area as you walk alongside Harry, noticing how the trees here bend over the sidewalk, their naked branches slowly but surely growing back the leaves they lost months ago — it makes you wonder how beautiful this must look during the peak of springtime, their full branches blending together, making a ceiling of flowers.

“Here.” Harry stops abruptly, making you almost bump into his shoulder, as you were too busy with the scenery you’ve made in your own head. “‘S this one.”

“I thought it said the third one.” You frown, looking back and noticing the way you’ve passed way more than just three.

“This one is the third.” He says, motioning to a small birdhouse stuck to its trunk with a number ‘3’ painted to the front in blue. “It’s a bit of an inside joke,” Harry chuckles to himself. “Now I get why the bastard wanted me to have this card.”

You look closer at the tree, trying to see if there’s something attached to it besides the birdhouse, but there’s nothing. Before you can question it, Harry opens the front of the tiny house, retrieving two tiny bottles from inside of it, similar to the ones you found in the greenhouse. “Oh, no.” You say, laughing. “Did he just put liquor inside a stranger’s birdhouse?”

Harry shakes his head, “This is not a stranger’s birdhouse.”

“Huh?” You frown, glancing back to the house where you stand in front of, its front completely dark, showing that no one must be at home. You point to it over your shoulder. “Do you know who lives here?”

“Yeah,” He starts, offering you one bottle. “I do.”

Your brows shoot up in surprise, glancing back and forth from the house to the man standing in front of you, an amusing grin growing on his face. “You live here?” You ask, “This is your birdhouse?”

“It is, yeah. In fact, I was the one who built it.” He gives the birdhouse a small pat.

You can’t help but let your mouth hang open for a second. “That’s-” You pause, not sure which word to use. Impressive? Amazing? Hot? “That’s nice.”

Harry smiles, and the two of you stand there for a moment, admiring his work in silence. You suck your bottom lip in, keeping yourself from inquiring further.

Being presented with how little you know about Harry only peaks at your curiosity at what had happened last year in your brief experience with him. When you were with him it felt as if you’d known him for months rather than weeks, but looking back at it now, you wonder if your infatuation fooled you into thinking the two of you were close. Maybe that’s why you were so upset at the premiere after all because all that did was prove to you how much you didn’t know him at all. No matter how many sleepless nights you spent together sharing bits of your lives, it wasn’t enough for you to get to know him.

It’s only when a car turns into the street that you break away from your thoughts, looking up at him and clearing your throat. “We should take this back to Evan’s.” You say. “I’m not sure how it would look from an outsider’s point of view to see us downing these tiny bottles in the middle of the street.”

“You’re right,” Harry says. “Should we read the last clue while we’re at it?”

“Sure, yeah.”

He reaches for the card inside his pocket, presenting it to you. “You do the honors this time.”

You take the card, brushing your thumb over the words before stopping for a second to read them out loud, “You’ll find your prize behind the words of buried legends.” You snort. “That’s so corny.”

“Words of buried legends,” Harry repeats, letting out a hum. “Bet he was feeling quite poetic when he wrote this one.”

“Maybe because it has to do with poems.” You peek at him, a slight raise to your eyebrow. “‘Words of buried legends’? like dead poets and stuff?” Upon reading it again to make sure, you mumble, “He really made this card especially for you, huh?”

“Makes sense.” Harry agrees before nudging you playfully with his arm. “Look at you with your literary mind!”

“Could’ve used some better wording but I’ll let it pass.” You giggle, shrugging as you hand him back the card. As you do so, you notice there’s something written on the other side. “What’s in the back?”

Harry’s brows meet. “Huh?”

“In the back of the card, something’s written on it.” You nod towards his hand as he’s about to pocket the card again.

Harry turns it around, reading it with a chuckle. “Ice breakers.”

“You gotta be fucking kidding me.” Your mouth drops open in amusement. “Well? Go on, then. Break the ice.”

Harry makes a show of clearing his throat before reading the question as an announcement, “What celebrity do you think you could pull on your best day?”

“Is this the actual question?” You squint your eyes at him and he turns the card to allow you to read it as well. Surely, the same question reads right on top of it and, as you take a glance at the ones below it, they’re not that much better. You shake your head, “God, I have no idea.”

“I know mine.”

“You didn’t give a single thought on that one.” You say. “This should be good.”

“Jennifer Aniston.”

“Jennifer Aniston?” You stop on your tracks, raising your brows at him. “You know she was married to Brad Pitt, right?”

“Ouch.” Harry makes the theatrics of putting a hand on his heart, head falling dramatically to the side. “Right where it hurts.”

“I’m not saying you’re bad-looking, but he’s Brad Pitt.” You emphasize with a laugh, pushing him playfully as you keep walking. “Like he is the male beauty standard. Personified.”

The front of Evan’s feels more vivid than it was when you first walked in hours ago, the lights inside seeming lighter and the curtains having been pulled back, showing people wandering around on the inside. You walk past another pair crouched in front of the bushes that line next to the front gate that creaks as you open it.

Harry rolls his eyes. “Sure, let’s hear yours, then, sweetheart.”

“Ew, don’t ever call me that again.” Your nose scrunches and your face grows hot, but you attempt to shake it off, stopping to think of the question. “Huh, on my best day? I think… I don’t know, maybe Drake?”

“Oh, no!” Harry’s hands cover his face as he shakes his head into them. “I feel like that’s the most basic answer anyone could ever give to this question.”

You gasp. “Did you just call me basic?”

Harry holds the front door open for you and, before he’s able to give you an answer, you bump right into Nia. She instantly blurts out your name, as if she’s been expecting you to appear. “I’ve been looking for you!” She says, sparing Harry a glance over your shoulder before pulling you slightly to the side. “Do you think we could talk for a second?”

“Sure.” You hold out the word, looking at Harry before focusing on your friend again. “Did something happen?”

“No, no, nothing happened. Just—” Nia starts, locking your arms as she guides you back outside, pulling you to a corner a few steps away from the front door. “How are you? How's it going?”

“I’m fine. Why?” Your brows knit together at her interference and you wonder if it has anything to do with her conversation with Nate.

“I’m talking about-” She looks over her shoulder, clearly checking if anyone is listening in. Even after making sure that there’s no one there, she still lowers her voice. “When I saw he was your pair, I wanted to rescue you right away, but fucking Taylor pulled me with him and I didn’t get the chance.”

Oh. “Oh.”

“Is it too awkward?” She keeps her inquiry, holding your hand close to her chest. “We could ask them to switch so we can do the rest together, I’m sure Evan’s too plastered to notice.”

“Nia, I-” You smile as you come to realize that she pulled you aside just to check if you’re uncomfortable, having witnessed first-hand your whines and cries over Harry last year. “It’s okay, really. It’s not that bad, surprisingly.”

“Really?” Nia blinks, taken aback. “I- What happened?”

“Nothing.” You reassure her with a squeeze on her hand. “We’re just chatting, it’s not that awkward.”

“Okay.” She nods and nods, before falling serious again. “But if anything happens you just have to scream for me and I’ll be right there, okay?”

“Okay.” You say, pulling her for a brief hug. “Thanks, Ni.”

The two of you return inside just as Taylor brings up his brother’s hair sculpture collection that’s being exhibited at a local gallery — a subject you already have been the victim of hearing for about an hour during New Year’s and, by Harry’s face, he seems as helpless as you did back then. Nia doesn’t waste a second before pulling her pair away, “Let’s go, pal, those clues won’t solve themselves,” she shoots you a look over her shoulder, pushing Taylor towards the living room and you chuckle.

“He really is one of a kind, that man,” Harry says with a sigh before meeting your gaze. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, just lady talk.” You brush aside. “Let’s find those poets, shall we?”

“We shall.” Harry smiles, looking around for a second before guiding you down the hallway, turning just before entering the kitchen where a staircase. This is a way that — like the greenhouse — you’ve never been to. Still, Harry navigates so casually as if it were his own home and, to some degree, you suppose it is. You follow him up the first flight of steps, stopping just before turning into the next one where a door you never really noticed before stands. Harry rests his hand on the handle, turning to you before saying, “There’s an office hidden right here.”

You watch as he opens it, motioning for you to walk in first. And, indeed, the inside of it is an office, just a bit smaller than the living room on the opposite side of the house. Two bookcases that go from the floor to the ceiling mostly covered the wall, only leaving a single space in the middle for a dark wooden cabinet. In front of it, an L-shaped desk takes up the middle of the room, most of it is filled with files and paper stacks, as well as two computers lying asleep. For a moment, you just stand by the doorway, admiring this room you’ve never known of its existence, your eyes quickly sweeping through the bookshelves completely packed with dark cover books of all sorts. “Do you think this is where it could be?”

“Probably, yeah.” Harry nods, turning on the lights. “I don’t know where else he could have any poetry hidden.”

You move towards one bookshelf, the one closest to the door, reaching to brush your finger through the spines perfectly lined. “But look at the size of these, we’ll take forever to find anything in here.”

“Those big ones are mostly law books, I think,” Harry says, opening cabinets at the other side of the room, right next to where a white couch stands. He turns to look at you, “His sister’s a lawyer, this is her office.” Harry says, “But Evan’s got a corner right here where he keeps some of his stuff— like books of sorts. It’s the only place I could think of.”

You hum, not knowing exactly what to respond to this information.

“You can go through the ones on that side, it could be there as well.” Harry nods towards a cabinet right next to the door where you came from, and you nod.

The first two cabinets are of no luck, both being mostly filled with boxes full of children’s books and old toys — some of them mixed with more stacks of paper, but those, instead of having long texts, have drawings of all kinds from what you could gather in a glance, from child-like scribbles to actual sketches. You can hear Harry going through drawers on the other side of the room and, upon closing another empty cabinet, you peek at him, watching his broad back flexing under his shirt as he moves around. Averting your eyes as swiftly as you looked, it’s still enough to bring warmth to your cheeks.

Finally, you open the cabinet at the very bottom of the shelf. On the top, there are piles of DVDs, most being different variations of Barbie movies, but, right at the bottom, you find books. You don’t stop to check their genre at first, simply moving them away until you stumble upon a small box, the top of it marked with the word ‘prize’. “Found it!” You call back, taking the box away from the pile before setting the books back in place again. “Under Rupi Kaur? Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure she’s very alive.”

“Don’t tell Evan that,” Harry says as he crouches next to you, taking the box from your hands. Inside, there are, as expected, two tiny bottles like the ones you found before but, what calls both your attention, is a small bag of sweets lying in the middle. Harry takes it, “Oh, those are nice.”

He hands it to you and you open it, quickly shoving a jelly candy into your mouth before nodding. “Yeah.”

“So…” Harry starts, peeking over his shoulder, “Do you want to go back there?”

You glance at him, his eyes hovering above yours, lips twitching up just barely. “Uh… Maybe not right now.” You answer, “Unless you feel like sharing our Jellies with other people.”

Harry only laughs, shaking his head as he sits back and you do so too, right next to him. He reaches for his pocket, presenting another tiny bottle, the one you found inside his birdhouse, “We still got these.”

“Right!” You fetch your own out of the pocket of your jacket.

Harry opens his, holding it up towards you. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.” You say, mimicking him.

Both of you down your drinks, the liquid tasting bitter, like medicine on your tongue, the only reminder of alcohol being the burn as it slides down your throat. You rest your head back on the cabinet behind you as the two of you fall into silence once more. A part of your mind is already beginning to swim around the space inside your head, and you decide to not take the last drink just yet, laying it next to your leg. Though you’ve only had the equivalent of two shots, you realize the long break you’ve had from drinking for the past couple of months -- which wasn’t exactly an intentional choice, but more like the result of your lack of free time -- is showing itself to have been enough to make you more of a lightweight.

And even though the night so far has been strikingly surprising in terms of how comfortable you felt being around Harry again, it doesn’t mean the questions you’ve been carrying since last year have gotten any quieter. They’ve only gotten louder. More persistent, even. The curiosity you feel to know what happened is almost suffocating now. And you’d be damned if you let a drunken mind stop you from having this conversation.

You glance at him from the corner of your eyes, only watching the back of his head bobbing along with the music -- still the piano -- that comes faintly from behind the closed door. Your lips part, feeling the question form right at the tip of your tongue, but not knowing how to voice the words. Will it be awkward? You think so, but what if it ruins the night? Tonight, that’s been so oddly refreshing. A night that only served to remind you how you became so infatuated with him in the first place.

But you know you won’t be able to let go of this ich inside your head unless you bring it up. And you want to, you do, but as you take too long to think of the right way to do so, Harry decides to break the silence, murmuring next to you, “That’s a good one.”

Your brows knit together, trying to make out any trace of familiarity within the song that’s playing, but you don't find any, which only leaves you even more confused. “Do you like classical?”

“Love,” Harry says simply, his eyes closed as he moves his head with the piano keys. “Especially this one. One of the greatest works from one of the greatest contemporary composers: Billie Eilish.”

Your lips fall open, “Shut up. Is she playing this?”

Harry laughs, a full one, that brings a grin to poke at your lips. “I mean, as far as I’m aware, no. It’s a version of her song — listen in.” He points to his ear, nodding with the melody as he sings along, “So you’re a tough guy, like it really rough guy.”

You shake your head incredulously, “Of course he’s playing classical versions of pop songs!”

“Did you really think Evan had a taste for Chopin or Debussy?” Harry asks both dimples poking on his cheeks.

“I think at this point I’d believe anything you tell me about him.”

Both of you laugh, the air surrounding you light and warm, before falling quiet again. This time, however, you simply stare at each other for a beat. You watch his eyes, with their almost hypnotizing jade shade, glancing between your own. He rolls his lip between his teeth, nibbling at it. This is the closest you’ve been to him all night, and the details on his face only feel like a reminder of your doubts. Like the nostalgia you feel with a bittersweet memory.

“Should we-“ You stop, the words falling from your lips before you can think about them. “Should we talk about the elephant in the room?”

You half expect Harry to frown, to play dumb, and question you the meaning behind your words. For a second, you even expect him to shake his head, to get up and leave the room. And, for some reason, you kinda want him to do so. To finally break the mask of the nice, sweet guy he’s been putting on all night and allow himself to play the role of cold prick you put him on for the past months.

But he doesn’t do it. He only gives you a short smile. “I was thinking about how to bring it up.” Harry’s gaze falls to his lap for a beat as he scratches his nose. “We should, yeah.”

You nod, more to yourself than to him. This is it. The moment to ask what you’ve been waiting for for six months now. You decide not to think much anymore, allowing the question to roll freely, “I don’t really know how to word this better but- pardon my French- what the fuck happened?”

Harry chuckles, but not an amused one. It’s more of a dry, nervous laugh. “How cliche is it if I tell you I was really fucking stupid?”

“Pretty cliche.” You say, “But also pretty true, I suppose.”

“I’m sorry for that.” He looks up, eyes meeting yours again, his own softening upon seeing you. “I really am.”

“Thank you for apologizing.” You smile a little, “But I think I deserve an explanation.”

“You do.” He speaks quietly before clearing his throat. For a second, he doesn’t say anything else, just takes a sharp breath, focusing on his fingers that play with the hem of his trousers. “I- Uhm- I know this might come as a surprise, but I’m not very good at letting people down.”

“A bit, I guess.” You try to humor, but your tone doesn’t show it. You sound quiet, hurt.

He peeks up at you, and continues, “Jess- the girl you met at the premiere- she’s lovely and all, but- how do I say this- we were never really supposed to be together.” Harry sighs, “I didn’t like her like that.”

You frown, “Then, why did you?”

“A couple of months before we met- before Evan even mentioned the film project to me, one of my mates kept insisting that I should meet his sister.” He pauses, “That was Jess.”

“I figured.”

Harry nods, “As I said, she’s a lovely girl, really nice, but we just- didn’t click like that, you know?” You hum in agreement, ignoring a small twist in your stomach when he repeats the endearment term. “But I guess she really wanted to try it, and, for months, I just kept pushing and pushing, cause I thought maybe with time I could bring myself to feel the same way.” And then again, another humorless laugh, “But- spoiler alert- I couldn’t and I should’ve just told her that.”

Your mouth hangs open for a beat before you decide against saying anything. It’s clear as you watch him explain that the entire situation for him felt more complicated than you’d ever considered. Not once did you think about the possibility of him being caught in a twist of his own decisions, and not once did you regard his feelings with the whole situation. In your bubble of gloominess, all you could think of was how he played you and used you for a bit before moving on to the next girl that fell for his sweet talk.

Looking at him now, however, his head low and brows set on a permanent crease, lips frowning down, you can feel the internal conflict pooling out of his pores. You’re not sure if it’s exactly a look of remorse that he gives you, but it sure seems close to it.

Harry huffs in what feels like frustration as he keeps recalling the events, “But all my mates kept taking the piss, pushing me to ask her out and then, in the middle of it, I met you.” He finally smiles a bit, and you have to look down to hide the warmth that spreads on your cheeks, “And we-uh-” He shrugs, “I mean, we clicked, didn’t we?”

“I think so.” You say, just above a whisper.

“I think so, too,” Harry says, holding your gaze with his own. “And when I was with you I let myself forget about that, forget about the pressure to be with someone else, I guess.” His lips fall again, eyes meeting his lap, “But when we came back, there wasn’t much running away from it anymore. The night we got back I met that friend of mine and, I’m not sure if he said anything to Jess, but she asked me out.”

“And you said yes.”

“I said yes.” He repeats, shaking his head, “I shouldn’t have, but I said yes.”

“So you just dated her? Even if you didn’t like her like that?” You say, trying to understand his thought process. Even if his words tug at your heartstrings -- which you try to not think about right now -- you still can’t help but feel a bit for the other girl.

“I thought I could- I don’t know, I thought with time maybe I could-” He stumbles around with his speech, before finally letting out a sigh, “I don’t know what was going through my head, to be honest. I was a prick.”

“At least you can admit to it.”

“I was a prick to both of you.”

You fall quiet, hoping he takes your silence as an agreement. When he doesn’t offer anything else, you speak up again, “Did it work, though?” He frowns, and you clarify, “Letting time force feelings into you?”

“I found very quickly how hard it is to develop feelings for someone when there’s someone else on your mind.” He says, and you bite back a smile that wants to spread on your lips.

“It’s very easy to say that now.”

“I know.” He agrees, “And I wish I could’ve realized that earlier, before even bringing you into this mess.” Harry reaches for your wrist, which lies on top of your lap, giving it a gentle squeeze. “For that I really am sorry.”

“I know you are.” You reassure, turning your hand to find his, squeezing it back. “And what happened to Jess?”

“She was rightfully upset when I told her.” His thumb brushes against your knuckles, moving the rings on your fingers around just slightly, and it’s almost enough to distract you from his voice. “We broke up a day after the premiere.”

“Ouch.”

“But it’s fine now, she’s got a boyfriend now who actually cares for her the way she deserves,” Harry says.

“That’s nice to hear, at least.”

“It is, yeah.”

You look down at your hands locked in your lap, squeezing his one more time before letting it go with a sigh. “You really made a big mess, huh?”

He chuckles, a guilty smile poking on his face, “I did.”

You nod, finally reaching for the tiny bottle left forgotten next to you, opening it. This time you only take a sip, but it’s still enough to end half of the liquid inside. You click your tongue, “I’m glad we talked, though.” You look up at Harry again, who’s already watching you, giving a small tap on his thigh. “It’s nice to have closure, you know? To give it a conclusion and wrap with a nice little bow.”

Harry rolls his lip inside his mouth, “Is this a conclusion, then?”

You raise your brows, “Is it not?”

“I guess it could be.” He shrugs one shoulder, leaning closer to you just barely, eyes trained in yours. “But I’m hoping that, after today, maybe we could start over?”

You laugh, scrunching your nose at him as you shake your head. “Not a start over, no.” You poke his side, “You’re not getting away that easy.”

“You’re right.” He says, still not budging as he frowns his lips. “But I wish it didn’t have to be an ending as well.”

“Is that so?”

Harry nods, you can tell his eyes hold a shyness that wasn’t here a minute ago, but at the same time -- as paradoxically as it seems -- there’s a boldness as well, one you’re more familiar with. “Maybe we could chat again. This time with fewer ice breaker cards and more bags of sweets.”

You smile, rubbing your chin as you pretend to ponder about his suggestion. “That does sound very promising.”

“I really do think we clicked.” He drops his playful tone as if wanting to make sure you feel the sincerity behind his words. “Wasn’t just saying it.”

“I know.” You say, “And I think so, too.”

His smirk grows, and he doesn’t offer anything else to say, but you can tell he’s holding something back. With the silence, you suddenly become too aware of the way your arms brush together, and how his knee bumps against yours. You notice how his eyes fall a bit from yours, so quickly you could’ve imagined it, but you choose to not think so. If you lean forward, you know he will too, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction. You’re not letting yourself make the first move.

Surely, you’re aware these thoughts are a direct result of the alcohol sweeping through your mind, testing how much of your pride you’re willing to ignore. There’s no questioning of the wall that you built all those months ago after walking out of this very house with this very man on your tail blurring out apologies. It still stands, tall and strong, and you're not letting sweet words mixed with a drink or two pull it down. Not that easily. But at this moment, looking at his stupidly beautiful face with his stupidly beautiful eyes so close to you, you feel like maybe you could peek through a window, or open up a door — just a creek, just to have a sample of what it would feel like if you were to pull it down.

“Do you want to go back?” Harry asks again, this time more quietly, this time his question has a different implication than it did before.

You're quick to shake your head, voice quiet, “Not yet.”

The corner of his lips quirk up and you raise your brows, silently daring him to ask what he’s been holding. You see his hand moving from the corner of your eyes, but you don’t break your gaze from his, not even when you feel his fingertips moving so gently against your cheekbone, brushing your hair away from your face. Harry leans closer, again just barely, and again, you stay still, only smiling softly in encouragement. Now, you’re stuck in your own silent conversation; both seeking the same thing but not making the move to achieve it -- either for pride or apprehension.

“I’d really like to kiss you right now,” Harry whispers finally, eyes moving down again, this time slowly, making sure that his intentions are clear.

“Do it, then.” You tease.

Harry breathes out a laugh, his hand caressing its way down to your jaw. He rubs his thumb against your cheek, a feathery touch, taking another second to look at you before pulling you in. Your eyes fall closed, as you focus on your senses, and allow yourself to peek from that window, or creek that door open just a bit, to have just this moment to remember when you first got lost in his touch.

First, it’s the warmth of his breath tickling your cupid bow, making your hold your own breath in anticipation. Then, the tip of his nose, gentle against your own, and you can’t help but lean in a bit more when you feel the ghost of his lips on yours. But he pulls back, just so slightly, hoping to have you reach for him again. Except you don’t, knowing what he’s trying to do.

“Uh-uh,” you shake your head, pulling back just a bit to look him in the eye. “You don’t get to tease me.”

Harry huffs out a laugh, “That’s fair.”

This time, there’s no teasing. Still, he goes in just as slowly as he did the first time around, curving his lips around your bottom one so softly it almost makes you lean in again. His kiss is cloud-like in a way that makes you a bit dizzy and when he presses his lips harder, you have to refrain from letting out a dreamy sigh -- still too stubborn to give him the satisfaction. It’s when you feel the tip of his tongue poking out to lick at your bottom lip in a silent request, that you pull away completely.

It’s your turn to smirk now, licking your lips before announcing, “I think we should go back now.”

#harry styles #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles writing #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine

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elliesguitarstrings · 4 years

Text

Silence (Part 3)

Masterlist//Series Masterlist

Peter Parker x Stark!reader

Summary: You and Peter have been best friends ever since he stepped foot into the avengers compound. After a year of being friends you realize you’ve developed a crush on him, but he doesn’t feel the same way... at least, you don’t think he does.

A/N: This took way too long to post but it’s finally here! I wrote this super late at night and I feel like it’s all over the place but I hope you still enjoy it. Also I’m getting to requests next so if you sent in a request don’t worry I’m not ignoring you lol I just wanted to get this out first.

Warnings: language, angst

~~~~~~~~

Slowly, you walk downstairs, dreading the day to come. As you enter the kitchen, you see Peter smiling at you, finishing up the pancake batter.

Cheerily, he says, “Hey Y/N! You’re just in time, I just finished mixing up the batter.”

Maybe you’re wrong to get mad at him. He doesn’t realize how much of an asshole he’s being, and you can’t blame him. To him, the two of you have always just been friends, so inviting his other friends to come hang out with you is no big deal to him. But it’s just not something you can get over. He’s been your crush for a whole year, how are you supposed to get over it that fast?

You smile back weakly, walking around the counter to help him fry the batter. There’s a bit of an awkward (well at least to you it’s awkward) silence between you two, which is extremely rare, given that you two are best friends.

“Oh! You know what, I almost forgot something!” Peter exclaims, breaking the silence, “Your good morning hug!”

“Oh, Peter, you don’t have to-“

“Oh, come on, it’s our thing!” Peter cuts you off, pulling you into a tight embrace.

To be fair, it was your thing, but now it felt, well, weird, with him liking MJ and stuff. Fuck, today is gonna be hard.

You want to hug him back, but instead, you push him away, detangling yourself from his arms.

“What the fuck was that for?”

Thankfully, the pancakes were starting to turn a dark brown, giving you the perfect excuse.

“The pancakes are gonna burn, dumbass!”

Peter turns to look at the now smoking pancakes, “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!”

The two of you rush to get the pancakes off the griddle, salvaging as much of the charred batter as possible, bursting out into laughter.

With the two of you hysterically laughing, for a second it’s like nothing has changed.

But then his phone rings. He pulls his phone out of his back pocket and checks who’s calling.

“It’s MJ, I should probably pick up,” he says apologetically.

You nod your head and force another smile.

“Hey Peter, I just wanted to let you know that I’m leaving to pick up Ned soon and I wanted to ask if we should meet you at the tower so we could all go to Delmar’s together?”

No. No no no no, absolutely not.

“Yeah that’s a great idea!”

Fuck.

“Okay, um, see you there then. Does thirty minutes sound good?”

“Sounds good to me! See you soon MJ!”

“Bye Peter, see you later.”

He hangs up the phone and stuffs it back into his pocket.

“That was Mj, she-“

“Yeah, I heard.”

That may have come out a bit more harshly than you expected it to.

“Oh, is that okay? I’m sorry I should have checked with you first-“

“No, Peter, don’t worry about it. It’s totally fine.”

“Oh okay! Great! Um, well, we should eat the pancakes before they get cold, well the ones we have left at least,” he chuckles.

You smile, grabbing two halfway burnt pancakes and putting them on a plate, drizzling syrup on top. Peter does the same.

You want to avoid more awkward silence while you eat, so you suggest putting on the TV and eating in the living room. Thankfully, Peter agrees, and the two of you settle on the couch.

By the time the show ends and you finish your breakfast, MJ texts Peter, telling him that she and Ned just arrived.

As if on cue, FRIDAY announces, “Two guests have just entered the premises. My systems recognize them as Ned Leeds and Michelle Jones. Should allow them inside?”

“Yeah FRIDAY, go ahead and let them in,” you answer.

“Of course, Miss. Stark. Access granted.”

“Peter, why don’t you go meet them downstairs. I’ll clean up the dishes.”

“Are you sure? I can help if you want-“

“No, no, it’s fine. I need to take care of something before we leave anyways. I’ll be down in just a sec.”

“Oh, um, okay.”

Peter heads downstairs while you take both of your plates to the sink.

Truthfully, you don’t actually need to do anything before you leave. You really just need a few seconds alone to prepare for the rough day you know is coming. You take a deep breath and go downstairs, grabbing your purse and saying goodbye to your parents on the way down.

Peter, Ned, and MJ are waiting at the door, happily conversing about today’s plans. The ones that you already made. The ones that Ned and MJ weren’t supposed to be a part of.

Nevertheless, you force a smile and wave at them, “Hey guys! Ready to go?”

“Yeah!” they all say in unison.

The four of you head out the door, starting your long and painful walk to the nearest subway station. You could have driven, but you were the only one with your official license (Peter was too scared to take the driver’s test even though he was old enough, and MJ and Ned weren’t old enough to get their license) and you really didn’t feel like being the chauffer today.

The walk actually starts out fine. The four of you make good conversation, and you feel a little more at ease about today’s events. Peter and MJ really just seem to be friendly with each other, not really flirting at all.

Until the sidewalk narrows.

It’s only wide enough for two people to walk, so you hang back, expecting Peter to stay with you. But instead he speeds up, walking with MJ, leaving Ned to walk with you.

“Are you kidding me?” you whisper under your breath.

“Huh?” Ned inquires.

“Oh, nothing, sorry.”

“Oh! No problem! So, how have you been…”

You and Ned make extremely awkward conversation for the rest of the walk, mostly with him just rambling on about random stuff. You’re only halfway paying attention to what he’s saying, too busy eyeing Peter and MJ walking in front of you, smiling and laughing with each other.

You really don’t want to have anything against MJ, she actually seems like a great girl. Sure, she’s a bit weird, and extremely dark at times, but she seems like a nice person nonetheless. But you just can’t shake the fact that Peter is picking her over you. Constantly.

Finally, after the excruciating walk, you arrive at the subway station. MJ and Peter are still walking together, a little too close for your liking, but what can you do about it?

You walk onto the subway and sit down in one of two empty seats, just hoping that Peter will sit next to you. And thankfully he does.

Finally, you get to talk to just him, like you were supposed to be doing this whole day.

Then, the lady sitting next to Peter gets up and off the subway, and MJ slips into the seat before someone else can take it. Peter turns to her, and they resume their conversation from earlier.

What. The. Fuck.

It’s like the universe is against you for some reason. All you want to do is spend some time with Peter, without anyone else butting in. But instead you spend the entirety of the subway ride listening to Ned continue to ramble on about some organic chemistry project he’s doing for the science fair, trying your best not to cry or burst out in anger.

The four of you get off the subway and walk into Delmar’s. You already know what you are going to get, so you let Ned and MJ order first.

Ned orders a #1, and MJ orders a #8.

You step up to the counter, “Hi Mr. Delmar, I’ll have the usual please.”

“You got it Miss. Stark, a #5 with pickles, just how you like it,” he motions to Peter, “I’m guessing the same for you Mr. Parker?”

“No, actually. I’m gonna have what MJ’s having. A #8 please today Mr. Delmar.”

Is this a joke?

You and Peter always order the same thing. You always have ever since Peter first brought you to Delmar’s. It’s like he was rubbing it in your face that he likes MJ and not you.

Mr. Delmar hands the four of you your sandwiches, and you sit at one of the few tables in the small store.

Of course, Peter and MJ are still happily chatting, now with Ned joining in. You eat in silence, pretending to be interested in their conversation as you don’t want to come off as rude (even though you really want to be rude to them). At this point, all hope for having a good day is lost. You aren’t being included in the day you planned, and your heart shattering crush on Peter is no help.

The entire way back home is just as agonizing. Despite your many attempts to walk next to Peter, he always finds a way to stick with MJ. At this point it seems like he’s just outright avoiding you, and it hurts.

Were you being that awkward at breakfast this morning? Or does he just like MJ that much?

Either way, you aren’t happy with him.

When you arrive back at the compound, Peter, Ned, and MJ all rush to the movie room, arguing about what movie to watch. You trail behind, telling them that you have to go up to your room really quick and that you’ll be back in a minute. Honestly, you’re not sure if any of them heard you, but you rush upstairs, just needing to be alone.

As soon as you reach your room, the feelings you’ve been bottling up all day immediately rush out. In a matter of seconds, you are a mess of tears and sobs, all of the pent-up sadness and anger flowing out.

“What seems to be the problem Miss. Stark? You seem to be in distress,” you are suddenly startled by FRIDAY.

“Oh, it’s nothing, FRIDAY, I’ve just had a hard day.”

“Would you care to talk about it? Unfortunately I do not have the capacity to comfort you emotionally, as I am merely an artificial intelligence system, but it is scientifically proven that vocalizing your feelings can help with the coping process.”

“Promise you won’t tell anyone?”

“Of course, Miss. Stark. I am programmed to keep secrets very well.”

“Okay, well, I like Peter. Like a lot. But he doesn’t like me back. And he’s been ignoring me all day for MJ and I’m so mad at him because today was supposed to be our day. And he fucking ruined it,” you rant, still sobbing.

“I am deeply sorry about that Miss. Stark. Would you like me to alert someone for you to talk to? Miss. Romanoff or Miss. Maximoff perhaps?”

“No FRIDAY, it’s fine. Thanks though.”

You feel so stupid, talking to some smart computer system about your problems instead of an actual person, but it did feel good finally letting your feelings out in words.

However, as the tears started to subside, the sadness slowly turned into anger. You thought about today’s events, how Peter had purposefully ignored you for MJ on what was supposed to be a day with just the two of you. You had put so much effort into today, planning out each little thing, and you were so excited about it. You wish you could just go back to this morning and tell Peter not to invite Ned and MJ, or honestly, just forget about the plan entirely. It’s not like Peter would have cared.

Suddenly, you hear a knock at your door.

“Hey, it’s uh, it’s Peter.”

Of course.

“I just wanted to check on you. It’s been like half an hour, are you doing okay?”

“Yeah, Peter. I’m fine. I just don’t feel great. Probably the food or something. Just go back to Ned and MJ and watch the movie. I’m just gonna stay up here and rest.”

“Oh, I, um. I already told them to leave. I just noticed that you seemed kind of off today, and I didn’t want them to like, interfere or anything.”

So now he was being nice.

“Do you want me to come in? Maybe we can snuggle and watch a movie together. I know how much you like snuggles when you aren’t feeling well.”

You wanted so badly to say yes, to let him cuddle with you and engulf you in his warm embrace. But your mind (and your heart) trails back to today’s events, how he still likes MJ, and how he’s only checking up on you because “you seem off.”

“No, Peter. I just need some rest. Maybe another time.”

“Oh, um, okay then. Feel better Y/N.”

At this point, you don’t know what else to do but fight fire with fire. If Peter wanted to ignore you all day, then that’s exactly what you would do to him. You don’t care how nice he’s being, Today just pushed you to the edge. The combination of your one-sided crush on Peter, and him being a dick all day leads you only to one thing. Silence.

~~~~~~~~

Taglist: add yourself to my taglist here!

All: @pxkajesus @hollanddolanfangirl @roseke @agentsofparker @lifeasjazzz @damnrancidchicken @loopyolivia @iwannabekilledtwice @rafehogwarts @non-eexistent @rosiexx8 @nearlydanger9 @realityisabitch07 @midgardassassins @jbreenr @cap-marvxl @ellesmythe @deepestcolorgiantopera @that-one-person @clandestine-nerd @nevertrustapanda16 @ohabbyoh @rxmanxff @bubbleskz @quinn-spn58 @baby-pogue @strangebouquetqueen @aayaissaa @thatforgottenangel @pjmjams @tiredstudenttrinity @isabella-bby @i-will-take-care-of--you

Peter Parker: @blizzardbabe

Series: @t-hollanderr @pure-ghost @allycat449-blog

#peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x reader #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker x y/n #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland fanfiction #spiderman #spiderman fanfiction #stark!reader #marvel #avenger #marvel fanfic series #avengers fanfiction

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mittensmorgul · 3 years

Note

In your opinion, which writer(s) wrote the best Dean episodes, Cas episodes and Sam episodes? Please don't feel troubled to answer it :)

ooh hello! This feels like a fun thought exercise. Thanks for asking!

I think I'm just gonna ramble about it rather than try to make lists or anything, because I personally feel like different seasons/eras of the show had writers that really stood out and gave me all the feelings :'D

Under a cut because it is long-ish, but also because these are my personal opinions delivered ramble-style and not like some sort of research paper even remotely attempting to be objective. :'D

I think I should start with Sam, since his character feels more consistently written to me across the seasons, but I have to start by pointing at Kripke himself. He wrote our intro to Sam, after all. Edlund gave us the best "soulless Sam" Episode with 6.09. And Meredith Glynn gave us some fantastic insight into Sam even in episodes that were equally about Dean-- like 12.11 and 15.17. Credit also to Yockey for 13.12 and 13.19 especially. He actually gave Sam emotional depth!

Sam as a character is kind of hard to judge according to the metric my brain set out for this. Like, I personally processed this question as "which writers revealed these characters' inner lives to us the most." And Sam as a character just... his "inner life" even from s1 was always a conflict with the Supernatural itself, you know? Far more than even the whole MoC arc for Dean was. Let me try to explain...

S1 Sam's biggest conflicts were find Dad so we can get revenge and I can go back to Normal Life and forget I was ever touched by the Supernatural at all. The demon blood/special children arcs were pretty much the same. His internal conflict was largely "am I evil, or even human?" And his personal goals were sort of the antithesis of the entire concept of the show we were all watching, you know? I didn't tune in to see Law Boy Sam and his Normal Life. I tuned in for Supernatural. lol

So from the outset, to keep Sam relevant to the narrative, the supernatural was essentially foisted upon him. Special Children. Demon Blood. "If you can't save him, you have to kill him." Sam was the object of the plot, and the vast majority of his character actions and choices and goals and desires were shaped by that.

Later seasons gave him a bit of a break from being the Plot Objective, to a certain extent, but every time he began to be even a little bit interesting in his own right (end of s12 taking charge of the hunters and then the AU hunters in s14, or his growing bond with Rowena and witchcraft in s13 and s14, for example), the plotlines never seemed to go anywhere truly deep for more than a random episode here and there. And that's just... disappointing. I mean, when the finale can only muster a blurry-wife-lonely-life montage for him, it only compounds the feeling that there just wasn't a lot to Sam as a character overall, that maybe deep down he just had no real internal hopes and dreams outside that basic generic notion of what life should be like for normal people, and that's pretty damn depressing.

Onward to Dean, because honestly he's the character we have with the biggest window into his emotional state throughout the series. Right from the start, Plot Happens To Sam, and we largely experience it through the filter of Dean's reactions to that.

In early seasons I credit John Shiban (starting with 1.06 Skin), Sera Gamble, and Raelle Tucker (starting with 1.03 Dead In The Water) with establishing the as yet untold depths of Dean Winchester. Sera obviously stuck with the show for a good long time and gave us some of my personal favorite episodes during that time, most of which I love for the Intense Dean Feelings (1.12 Faith, 3.12 Jus In Bello, 6.11 Appointment in Samarra). I'm not terribly fond of her showrunning, but heck she can write an episode.

But those folks took a character that potentially could've just been the two-dimensional dudebro monster hunter whose entire personality was classic rock and his car and made him into one of the most complex and nuanced characters in media. So credit to them for establishing Dean's hidden depths that future writers would build submarines (and one Ma'lak box that thankfully never made it to the bottom of the ocean) to explore.

In later seasons, my Dean champion was clearly Meredith Glynn. If you want to cry about Dean, just marathon her episodes. Well, her and Bobo enjoyed tag teaming on him, honestly, and that just made it so much better/worse. :'D

But I think overall Dean as a character was well established early on, and most writers over the course of the series were easily able to tap into that well without getting stuck on the surface level nonsense it was all too easy to float across when they chose to. More often than not, though, writers didn't get tripped up on the dudebro and chose to reveal the mess of Dean underneath. I mean, even Bucklemming occasionally nailed it (10.16 and 11.18 primarily for them imo)

Which brings us to Cas... the angel who fell in love with humanity, rejected Heaven and God, and chose his own family. I don't think any writer can touch Ben Edlund for ultimate Cas feelings. My biggest regret is that Edlund left the show before he could write a truly human Cas episode. If I could redo ANYTHING about the entire series (setting aside the finale, because that doesn't count), it would be to let Edlund write 9.03 and 9.09 instead of bucklemming... >.>

Why? Because yes, he showed us aspects of Cas as a phenomenal cosmic power, but he never forgot that none of it would've mattered without the crack in Cas, the little bit of him that set him apart from every other angel. And it wasn't his otherness or his power or his grace. It was his humanity. His fear of it at first (i mean his first episode with Cas in it was 4.16 ffs), and his evolution into gradual acceptance and then understanding and love. Not just curiosity of humanity as a concept, but his own desire for it in contrast to every other angel who rejected it for themselves and considered it "lesser."

Even at his most angelic, Edlund wrote Cas at his most human.

#how the heck to tag this even...#mittens thoughts i guess

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getsojaded · 4 years

Text

chemistry || calum hood

word count: 3.8k+

warnings: mentions of weed, swear words, mention of injury, food & the slightest bit of sex talk

a/n: hey twt moots ;)) anyways, this is inspired by this post! i hope u all enjoy <3

It was about 11 pm, and I had just finished taking an unnecessarily large amount of notes for chemistry class. With a sore, shaky hand and a vision that was starting to go blurry, I had finally finished ten pages. Who knew that there was so much information about 5 organic compounds?

I yawned in my seat, stretching my arms out and removing my glasses. I was more than thankful that I can call it a night, and walked towards my bathroom to get ready for bed, which took a good 30 minutes. It usually doesn’t take me that long, but fuck, I was exhausted this whole day. After all my skincare was completed, I walked back to my bedroom and hopped into my bed, prepared for a well deserved rest. After slouching for a good three and a half hours, comforter and pillows had never felt so good against my body.

Just as I was about to fall asleep, I heard a loud ding! from my phone and I opened my heavy eyes, which immediately annoyed me. I ignored the first one and tried to go back to sleep, but one ding turned into six and I couldn’t take it anymore. I angrily ripped the covers off my body, sitting up right after reaching for my phone on the nightstand beside my bed.

6 New Text Messages from: calum hood

hey wyd rn

can you do me a favour

i need your help

im at this party right now and i’m about to get high as fuck but i forgot about our homework for tomorrow and i was wondering if you could do them for me

you don’t even need to make them look pretty like how you do it just take down the important shit

please

“What the fuck?” I whsipered to myself as I looked at my phone. “Who does this bitch think he is?”

to: calum hood

are you fucking serious right now

from: calum hood

please i’m really sorry LOL i completely forgot about it

i know your smarty pants finished it the second you got home please

i’ll literally buy you starbucks tomorrow morning

As much as I hated to admit it, his last text message kind of convinced me. I was a sucker for coffee, and could really stop spending money on it every morning. But was I really about to lose some more sleep just to do the party boy’s notes? I barely know this kid anyways. How’d this guy even get into college?

to: calum hood

is it gonna be a venti

from: calum hood:

if that’s what you want, sure

I knew I was going to regret this decision, but I threw on my glasses and put my hair up once again, walking towards my desk. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I sighed out, opening my laptop and gathering my supplies together. I unlocked my phone, seeing that the time was 12 am. Am I doing this for coffee or am I doing this because he’s attractive and I couldn’t really say no to him? I groaned and leaned my head on my desk, texting him back.

to: calum hood

i hate you so much

get me a venti iced white mocha no whip and an extra espresso shot

actually no make that two extra espresso shots cause bc of your dumbass im staying up

from: calum hood

i gotchu angel

thank you so much, see you tomorrow :)

“Fuck off with the petname and the smiley face,” I angrily cursed at my phone, picking up my pencil and beginning to write another ten pages of notes.

“I hate this bitch,” I said, throwing my pencil onto my desk and slamming my laptop shut. The time was now 3:45 am and tired was an understatement for me. I crawled into bed, falling asleep almost immediatly, hoping that these 5 hours of sleep will give me enough energy to get through class tomorrow.

“You have got to be fucking joking me,” I mumbled, reaching over for my phone to turn off the alarm. I was definitely not a morning person, and the fact that I didn’t get at least 7 hours of sleep meant that I was not going to be in a good mood today.

I slowly crawled out of bed and began trudging towards my bathroom, seeing I had gotten a text meesage from the man himself. I rolled my eyes seeing his name pop up, opening the conversation between him and I.

from: calum hood

goodmorning!

to: calum hood

fuck off

I set my phone aside, getting ready for bed in the slowest way possible. I honestly could care less about what I looked like today, so I decided on a hoodie and sweatpants. I went back into my room and packed my bag with everything I needed, including Calum’s stupid study notes. I threw it over my shoulder, putting on my shoes and walking out the front door, into my car. Thankfully my college was not too far from my apartment, so it didn’t matter if I was running a couple of minutes late.

Parking my car and walking towards class, more and more annoyance filled my body, hoping that nobody would say a word to me, or even better, look in my direction. As I walked into the classroom, I walked towards the empty seats in the very back, choosing the one closest to the wall. I got settled into my seat, leaning the side of my head against the wall, hoping that I’d get the tiniest bit of extra rest.

“The last text message you sent to me wasn’t very nice.” I heard a voice beside me say. I opened my eyes and looked up, seeing the stupid Calum Hood. He was holding two cups of coffee - one for me, and one for him I’m assuming - and was wearing a maroon hoodie, which he actually looked really good in.

“I don’t think you deserve to have a nice goodmorning text, because you are the reason I’m in a pissy mood today, thank you very much.” I responded, taking my coffee from his hand and placing it on my desk. I reached into my bag and took the study notes I wrote for him, slapping it onto the desk beside me.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as our professor began to speak up, indicating that class had begun. “What can I do in order for you not to be mad at me?” I turned to look at him. He had the biggest pouty face I had ever seen, which was absolutely adorable. But I’d never tell him that.

“Just shut up.” I sighed, turning back towards the board, opening my notebook and beginning to take notes.

Not even ten minutes later, a green sticky note caught my eye as I was writing. My eyes gazed towards the sticky note, scoffing at what was written on it.

Pls forgive me :(

I turned towards Calum, who was currently well focused on the board in front of us. I lightly chuckled, knowing he was more than pretending to actually pay attention in this class.

I thought I told you to shut up, I wrote underneath his writing and stuck it back onto his desk, and continued from where I left off. I got maybe 5 words in before I saw the neon green appear back onto my desk. I can’t shut up if I’m not talking.

I rolled my eyes before crumbling the paper in my hand, looking at Calum once again. “You’re distracting me. What do you want?” I asked him, the brunette boy turning his head to me once again.

“For you not to be mad at me.” He responded. “What can I do for you to at least smile at me? Besides telling me to shut up.”

I stared at him with the bitchiest face I could put on, then rolled my eyes and began to take down more notes in my book. First, he makes me write ten pages for him and now he’s distracting me in class. Can he leave me alone for at least five minutes?

“And now you’re not gonna talk to me. Fine, be that way.” He grunted. The two of went back to what to we were doing for the remainder of class.

“That’s all for today folks, I hope you have a good rest of your day and don’t forget to read pages thirty to thirty-five and finish questions one to twenty-seven.” Our professor said to all of the class, which resulted in me grabbing my bag and standing up immediately, wanting nothing more than to just get the fuck out of this place.

Please don’t talk to me please don’t talk to me please don’t talk to me-

“Hey wait,” Calum said and grabbed my hand.

Fuck

“Yes?” I asked him, turning my body towards him as he let go of my hand.

“What’re you doing the rest of the day?”

“Nothing, why..?”

I saw that Calum had the cheekiest grin on his face after I gave him my answer. “As an apology for making you write down my notes, thank you very much by the way, along with making you angry this whole morning, how about we go get breakfast on me, and we can do our homework together, except I will do all the work, and you just copy my answers? How does that sound?”

I thought about it. One part of me just wanted to flip him off, go back home and get the sleep I missed out on last night. The other part of me was actually kind of down for that idea. Free food, free homework answers and I get to hang out with pretty boy? I wasn’t really losing anything here, huh?

“I mean, I would say yes, but I took my car here and also I’m dressed terribly right now, the last thing I need is for more people to see me looking like this..” I trailed off, looking down at my current outfit and laughing lightly. “Babe, you don’t even look bad whatsoever right now. However, if you insist, you can go home and change and I can come get you when you’re ready. Is that a plan?” He asked in response. First angel, now babe? What is this guy doing?

“I mean.. I could do that...but-” “Pleeaaasee?” Calum cut me off, pressing his hands together, acting as if he was praying.

“Ugh, fine, I’ll go with you! I’ll go home and get ready, and I’ll text you when I’m done.” I responded as the both of us walked out of the classroom, towards the parking lot.

“Pinky promise you won’t cancel on me last minute?” Calum asked, extending his arm and putting his pinky in front of me as we reached my car. I hadn’t even noticed that he walked me to my car, which honestly made my heart flutter when I realized.

“Are you kidding me?” I laughed lightly, taking my pinky and sticking it out with his, interlocking it. “Pinky promises mean everything, sweetheart. I’ll see you later.” He responded, winking at me then walking away. Getting into my car, I hit my steering wheel, squealing while I repeatedly hit my head against my wheel. “Fuckin’ angel, babe and sweetheart?! What’s next?” I asked myself, driving back to my place to get ready for this little study.. session? Hang out? Date?

I never noticed how nervous I was to hang out with Calum until four different outfits were placed on my bed, with no ability to choose which one looked best. “Fuck, these are all terrible.” I groaned, flopping onto my bed and closing my eyes. I was interrupted by my phone ringing, seeing that Calum was calling.

“I know you pinky promised that you wouldn’t cancel on me, but angel what is taking so long?” He asked, laughing into his question. “I’m so sorry,” I groaned, getting back up and looking at the outfits I planned on my bed. “I’m having a little wardrobe crisis. I have zero idea what to wear.”

“You could’ve showed up in the hoodie and sweatpants and I’d still find you gorgeous,” He responded, making my heart flutter for what felt like the hundreth time today. This man throws small compliments left and right and it’s kind of driving me crazy. “But lemme see what you got planned out. I’ll make it easier for you.” I responded with an okay, quickly snapping a photo of the clothes that were currently on my bed.

“Okay first off, none of these are bad at all. I think you could’ve chose any of these and rocked all of ‘em. Second, little shirt big pants is always the way to go. I say the second one.” He told me, choosing a white long sleeved shirt and the baggiest light wash jeans I had in my closet. It might’ve been basic, but Calum was right - you really can’t go wrong with a little shirt big pants combination.

“Okay, thank you.” I sighed in relief, taking the clothes into my hands and walking into the washroom to change. “You can come now, I’ll text you my address. I’ll probably be done by the time you get here.”

“Now was that so hard?” He asked in response, causing the both of us to laugh. “I’ll see you in a bit. Bye bye!”

“Bye Calum, see you later.” And with that the call ended. I quickly changed into my clothes, put my laptop in my bag - along with everything else I needed - and slipped my shoes on. Once I finished doing so, I heard a loud honk outside, indicating that he was outside.

Walking out of my house I saw Calum exiting his seat, walking over to the other side and opening the door for me. “Wow, what a gentleman.” I laughed as he closed my door and got into the drivers’ side once again. “You look great.” He told me, his eyes focused on my outfit. “All thanks to you.” I said nervously, as he started the car. “Where are we going again?” I asked him.

“You can never go wrong with IHOP,” He said proudly, with a wide grin on his face. “How’d you know I loved going there?” I asked him, gaining a chuckle from him in response. “Not sure if you knew this, but I’m a mindreader.” He joked, causing me to roll my eyes and laugh in response.

Arriving at the place and ordering our food, Calum and I began to have a little conversation. It started off with an are you still mad at me? which resulted into talks about other classes, finals and parties.

“You’re telling me you’ve never been to a party?” He asked in shock, me shaking my head as I took a sip of the water that was given to me. “Are you kidding me? We’ve been in college for what, two years, and you’ve never been to one?!”

“Yeah, in case you didn’t notice, I go to school to learn and not to party. I don’t ask people to take ten pages of notes for me so I could blaze up, unlike somebody I know,” I responded, Calum looking at me in disbelief. “I cannot believe you just called me out like that. I said I was sorry!”

“Yeah yeah, I know. You’re making up for it with free food and free homework answers, so I decided to get over it.” I responded, laughing. “Also, when are we gonna start doing the questions?” I asked as the waiter came with both of our plates of food, thanking them as we began to eat.

“I mean, we could go back to my place and work on it, if that’s alright with you.” Calum said, his mouth full of pancakes. “Is that your way of trying to get in my pants?” I asked jokingly.

“You’re a fiesty one aren’t you?” He asked, with a simple nod from me in response. “Well to answer your question, no that is not my way of doing such a thing, I’d be much more smooth about it.”

“Oh, so you think you’re slick or something?” “Nah babe, I know I’m slick.” There’s the cocky party boy that I was much more familiar with. I rolled my eyes in response.

“I’m gonna ignore what you just said.. Anyways, I am fine with working on it at your place.” I told him, getting a nod in response. Throughout the whole breakfast, we got to know each other quite well. I learned that he played soccer in highschool, but due to a torn ACL he had to quit. But because of that, he got into music and started playing the guitar. I told him that if there’s enough free time when we finished, he should play me something. He happily agreed to it, saying that I will fall in love with him after I hear his singing. I just roll my eyes at his cocky compliments about himself.

I also got to hear his totally wild college parties that he goes to, telling me about this one time one of his friends’ houses got shut down due to the various noise complaints from neighbours down the block. “you should come join me in one”, He offers, with a “fuck no” in response from me.

“C’mon, they’re not that bad. They’re actually really fun, and everybody’s always so nice.”

“I literally can’t tell you the last time I got high, and the last time I got drunk it was not pretty, I’m retired from that shit.” I said, as he paid for our food and began walking back to his car.

“Oh, so you used to be rowdy?” He asked, the two of us laughing in unison. “High school me was a different story, we don’t talk about that.” I responded. “The things I would do to see that side of you. You gotta go to at least one before you get outta this place. They take a lot of stress off your shoulders for the night.” He told me as we walked towards the front door to his place, which made me laugh at the fact that he tried to make parties seem like a really good thing. A simple Maybe, was all I responded with as we got settled into his apartment, which was fairly clean to my surprise.

We were currently sitting across each other at his dining table, the both of us reading over the textbook and him answering the questions after every section. He worked effeciently, which also took me by surprise. I underestimated this guy a lot, didn’t I?

A good two hours later, Calum had finished all the questions for homework and I had finished copying them down, thanking him for doing such a thing.

“It’s no problem. I had no idea that the notes were ten fucking pages long, you deserve a break after that- wait, you wear glasses?” He asked me, analyzing them.

“Yeah, only at home though. I don’t really like how they look on me,” I replied, taking them off and rubbing my eyes. He took them in his hands and put them back on me, smiling. “They look really cute on you, I like them.” He said, causing me to blush. “What’re you so flirty for?” I asked. Keep these compliments up and I might just fall in love with you before you even sing, I thought to myself.

“Well, with somebody as pretty as you, I gotta slip in a flirty remark every chance I get, eh?” He smirked, taking my hand, and taking the both of upstairs. “Don’t take this the wrong way, my guitars in my room.” He reassured me as we walked inside his room. He took the guitar from the side of his room, and sat on the edge of his bed, gesturing me to sit down next to him.

“Ready to fall in love with me?”

“Try me, Hood.”

He chuckled, playing the intro to Sam Smith’s Leave Your Lover. “Holy shit, I love this song,” I whispered, watching his hands strum the guitar.

He began to sing, immediately amazed by his voice. It was so soft and raspy, I literally could listen to it all day. I closed my eyes, leaning my head on his shoulder. He laughed softly when he noticed, continuing on with the song.

He finished playing the outro, which caused me to open my eyes and look up at him. “So, how was that?”

“It was beautiful, your voice is so pretty.” I responded, smiling at him. “You should drop outta this whole college thing and just become famous.”

“Oh man I wish, but I think it’s too late for that.” He told me, now leaning on my shoulder, which made me want to scream and kiss him. “Did you fall in love with me yet?”

I patted his cheek with my hand lightly. “Not yet Cal, not yet. Stil kinda angry about that whole ten pages of notes thing.”

“You’re never gonna let that go, are you?”

“Nah.”

He laughed, then took my hand and intertwined it with his, rubbing circles on it with his thumb. “What if I told you I’d be down to do this again, minus the whole ‘let me do this for you today as an apology’ thing?” He questioned, lifting his head from my shoulder and looking at me.

“What do you mean, ‘this again’?”

“I mean picking you up with a coffee before class, bothering you the whole time, getting breakfast with you afterwards, studying together, and then playing a song for you once we get too lazy to finish our assignments.” He replied with a soft smile that made my heart warm and my cheeks red.

“And what if I told you that I’d be down to do those things aswell?”

“Well then my love, I will pick you up on Wednesday at 8:15 with a venti iced white mocha with only one extra shot of espresso, because I won’t keep you up to write more notes. After class, I’ll take us to any place you wanna go. Denny’s? IHOP? Waffle House? You name it. Then, we can go back to my place, study our asses off and then I can play you as many songs as you’d like. How does that sound?” He offered, the biggest smile appearing on my face.

“That sounds perfect.”

“Now if we’re going to be doing this... does this mean I can finally take you to a damn party?”

“Fuck off, Hood.”

#calum hood #luke hemmings #michael clifford #ashton irwin #5sos #5 seconds of summer #calum hood imagine #luke hemmings imagine #michael clifford imagine #ashton irwin imagine

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beclynn-herondale · 4 years

Text

Inside TMI Gang's diaries part 3 - 2/2 for CoG

Clary: Dear diary, so what can I say a lot has happened, me and Sebastian went to find Ragnor and instead found. Magnus, he pretended to be Ragnor. And Sebastian kissed me and it felt wrong, but also he took me to the place where the Fairchild manor use to be, he took me to a burned down manor, and everything felt wrong. Anyway me and Jace also made the Wayland Manor collapse and figured out my father was torturing am angel. Jace is also mad at me so yay.

*Later*

So um... Where do I begin, a lot has happened Idris was attacked, Max... Is dead and the Lightwoods are in pieces, Jace wrote me a love letter and ran off to go after Valentine and get himself killed most likely, Izzy I think probably still doesn't like me, my mom's back but I am mad at her, and she informed me that Jace isn't my brother and now all I can think about is how I want to tell him. Now we are preparing for the next battle so gotta make a rune brb.

*Later, later*

So my father was trying to raise the angel to destroy all the Downworlders, right, so um he killed Jace and I kinda replaced his name in the sand with mine and I used the wish to bring Jace back but like what will people think, oh well, I'd do again if it meant to have him back, safe and alive, to get to love him and make him happy, though idk does he still want me? either way I'd do it again. Also I can't wait to get back to new york and get some COFFEE!, but also please don't let Jace not love me anymore.

Jace: Dear diary, you'll find me in a bad spot at this moment, things have fallen apart, Hodge is dead but I don't feel much for him, Max was killed and I can't help but blame myself, after all it is my fault. The manor where I grew up collapsed and while I knew it was my childhood home, it also felt freeing watching it all fall apart, like watching the bad memories in that place being crushed, like seeing that you can heal. But as I am watching Clary sleep, I know I won't get the chance to ever heal myself, I love her but will never have a future with her, and I have to go after my father and stop him, I know where my journey ends and I always knew it would never be a happy ending for me. So I'll write her a letter and leave with her, I'll tell her all my feelings and let her know what she means to me. I know Izzy and Alec will understand in time. And I probably won't be coming back.

*Later*

So I died but was brought back, I also fought Clary's creepy brother and my father is dead, I feel empty in so many ways, apparently my actual parents were Stephen and Céline Herondale, which would mean Imogen was my grandmother, I don't know what people want me to say or do, I don't even know who I am anymore. Amatis gave me a box with stuff that belonged to my father in it, but I don't know this man, and I know nothing about my mother, I am sitting here looking through it but what am I supposed to feel? I am sitting here thinking about how Clary asked for me of all the things she could have had but maybe she didn't actually want me now, maybe she felt she owed me and that was it, I wouldn't blame her, but I love her, I love her more than anything, I want to see her so bad, she always knows what to say to me and how to comfort me, I miss her. We are also going back to new york soon and thankfully the news that I am apparently a Herondale hasn't gotten to far out yet and hopefully I'll be gone before it does, I don't want to see the stares or hear the whispers. And I'll be back to my room and my blades.

Alec: Dear diary, I write to you today with mixed feelings, of loss and gain, Max is gone and it's all my fault, I spent so much time trying to protect Jace and Izzy that I forgot Max needed protecting too, me and Magnus are a thing now I think, but I can't help but feel guilty because I shouldn't have something so great when I failed to protect my baby brother. Mom and Dad probably will hate me now and Izzy is too shocked and upset for anything honestly, she blames herself but it really isn't her fault. Jace ran off and if I lose him too I don't know if I'll be able to go on like I use to.

*Later*

Somehow our gang is still alive, i have no idea why or how but we are, the pain and hurt and grief is still strong but we will have to carry on. Jace is a Herondale and honestly I don't know how to feel, but he must be so conflicted, I am giving him space cause I know that's what he needs right now. Izzy is hanging with Simon who got her to get out of her room and maybe there will be some friendship between them, me and Magnus are apparently going on a trip and it is what I need, I can't be around at the moment with everybody staring and grieving. And I think everyone needs some space right now, hopefully we'll all be able to get through it, hopefully me and Magnus will be together.

Magnus: Dear diary, there is much to say but no time for it, the Shadowhunters are at war, not surprised, Alec asked me why I never called him back in the middle of a fight, honestly this man, but also he kissed me in front of people in the accords hall which is all I needed him to do to tell me he is serious, although he has also lost so much and I can only hope for the strength he'll need to get through it, we are going to war but Biscuit has made a rune to unite Shadowhunters and Downworlders, honestly this girl is gonna surprise the Clave in many ways and cause so much chaos, I can't wait to see it.

*Later*

We are all pretty much are alive, many were lost but we won the war, if you can call it a win. Me and Alec will be going on a trip, I hope maybe it will help him cope a little, Shadowhunters aren't known for grieving too long, but I think it would do good for them to grieve longer for their lost. Jace is a Herondale and now everything makes much more sense as to why he is the way he is, he has a journey ahead of him though and I can only imagine what he must be feeling, Isabelle I have much respect for and I hope she'll find the comfort she needs in the ones who care for her, Simon Lewis is a brave boy and deserves more credit than people give him, Biscuit is the bravest and I wish her well on her journey to becoming a Shadowhunter, although I don't think Jocelyn will be pleased. I am heading back to new york after the party tonight to deliver the news of Ragnor's death to Catarina and Raphael, and to catch up on some stuff before me and Alec leave, I still wonder if it is all over though.

Izzy: Dear diary, I don't know what to say, so much is lost and I don't know what to do, it's the first time in my life I have felt this lost, it's all my fault that Max is dead, I should have protected him, I never should have trusted that piece of trash Sebastian, if I could kill him I would and if I get the chance I will, Hodge is dead as well but honestly don't care. Simon came to see me and comforted me, he is the only one who didn't say that I need to be strong or that it will get better, he just held me and said it's gonna hurt for a while but your aren't alone, and that's all I needed. And Jace ran off, I wasn't gonna follow him cause I respected his decision but I can't let him die thinking there's something wrong with him or that Clary is his sister, he deserves to know.

*Later*

Sebastian is dead and I am happy about that, many were lost but not my loved ones, I thank the angel for that, Jace is a Herondale and I don't know what he'll do but I won't let people take him, he's my brother, him and Clary can finally be together and I wish them happiness, if the two idiots would realize that they still want each other lol sometimes I wonder about my brothers, Alec is with Magnus now and all I can say is finally. I'll see where things with Simon goes and I actually kinda hope it goes somewhere, but I'll never say that out loud. I still blame myself for Max but I got to keep going, I know he'd want me to.

Simon: Dear diary, my prison friend turned out to be Hodge and he is dead now, idk how to feel, I almost burned tho, at least I was saved, that Sebastian killed Max and I feel terrible for the Lightwoods, Izzy is a wreck and I comforted her after everything, Clary and Jace aren't siblings and I am happy to hear that, it means they won't be suffering anymore and the angst will stop but Jace ran off and he may not come back so maybe it will be worse, Jocelyn is awake and idk what will happen when we get back but I don't think Clary plans to stop being a Shadowhunter, also speaking of my badass best friend, she made an alliance rune, and put the mark of cain on me she feels terrible about that last one but I asked her for a reason, it will all be okay.

*Later*

Everything is okay, thank God, mostly everyone is alive and we can go back to somewhat normal life, tho I don't know how they expect the Lightwoods to, Jace is a Herondale and I guess that's basically a kinda Royal Shadowhunter family? Idk, Clary and Jace appear to be okay, they walked up to us holding hands and it seems they worked things out, I am happy for them. Things with Izzy may be going somewhere but also things with Maia are going somewhere, idk what to do but it may end terribly, Magnus and Alec are a thing now and that's good, I just want to get back to new york and out of here.

Sebastian: Dear diary, these dumbasses have no idea who I really am, father said they wouldn't but I thought maybe they were smarter, especially Jace, you were raised by father as well you pathetic boy, but I guess you fell in love which is exactly what father told you not to do, although he is punishing you for it and trying to get back control over by making you believe Clary is your sister and making you think you are a monster, I am enjoying the show, honestly maybe you'll end yourself that would be fun to watch, although I'd like to kill you myself, after all you were always father's favorite and I would love to see father's face when I kill you, I hope you know I will kill you if I can.

*later*

Well apparently I am dead.

Church: Dear Cat diary, the idiots all lived except the kid, I feel bad he had so much more life to live, the Herondale figured out he was a Herondale congratulations Dum dum, maybe his tragic love will end now that he knows, also Jem seriously I miss you and still want you to save me. Magnus and Alec are together now and it's about damn fucking time, Isabelle is gonna be Isabelle, I feel that Simon kid will be around more now, Clary will probably be a Shadowhunter now, so much fucking happened and honestly the Shadowhunters need to get their shit together. Valentine may be dead but the stuff he caused isn't, there is much to be rebuilt, I just hope the drama is over, I am getting to old for this shit. Jem again I miss you and you are the only other intelligent one, end my suffering please!, Also I want some tuna, I'm gonna go find that Herondale to get me some.

(again not my best but the others will be better, I can't wait to continue, hopefully you enjoy these)

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dalishkadan · 3 years

Text

writers tag game

got tagged by @noire-pandora and i was going to do this yesterday but SURPRISE SURPRISE I FORGOT LMAO

1.How many works do you have on AO3?

uh *mumbles* two hundred and thirty-seven ... (though seriously considering taking one of them down at least for a little while to sort out what i want to rewrite and also the tags)

2.What’s your total AO3 word count?

1,373,295 (eep!)

3.What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

groove is in the heart - 551

it's always been you - 373

wrong number (or "what happens when you accidentally send your boss a dick pic") - 327

angel, interrupted - 321

sudden realisations - 305

(it is no surprise to me that these are all in the supernatural fandom and all but one is destiel asdfghjkl)

4.Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

i always do! i don't always get back to them right away but i always want to let a commenter know that their comment is appreciated because it issssssssss <3

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

i would have said too heavy, a fic where anders mourns his lover hawke that was left in the fade, but i'm actually planning a sequel that will make it happier, so technically it won't really be ... i'd therefore say where fate led them, because two lovers breaking up is one thing, but breaking up by one person blowing up the other's airship and then ending up in a quickdraw duel with them where one kills the other is a whole other level.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

i don't really count my one-shots because the smutty ones naturally have a happy ending of sorts (hurr hurr hurr) but of my multi-chapter fics ... i'd probably say dark legacy. marane loses some of her brotherhood brethren but she exacts vengeance for them in the dread father's name, kills the emperor of cyrodiil (and gets all the fame and notoriety that goes along with that), gets a whole new sanctuary, and basically gets to rebuild the dark brotherhood from the ground up in the night mother's image. plus a new lover in the form of cicero. is there anything else a good listener needs?

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

do modern characters in fandom worlds count? lol if not then no, i don't think i have yet. yet being the operative word, because i do have things planned. but i have a lot of things planned, so.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

i did once, but it wasn't really bad and i'm not sure i would classify it as hate. basically someone read part two of a series and lamented certain things in that story that are also present in the first story and are just clearly a part of the series aesthetic. i get it, it's not for everyone. not sure why they felt the need to read 160k of posted work before saying so, but to each their own. i do think i circumvent hate comments by requiring folks to be signed in to leave one. i'm sure i probably miss out on comments by guests, but for my mental health's sake, i'd rather leave it to logged in users only. put your money where your mouth is ... or, in this case, your account.

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

oh yes, i write quite a lot of it, too, and in a good variety! from vanilla to kinky to even dangerous (and appropriately tagged).

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i'm aware of, thankfully

Have you ever had a fic translated?

not that i've been told, at least lol

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

no, though a friend of mine have gone back and forth with a dao canon divergence. both of us are just at different points in our writing right now, though, so who knows if/when it will see the light of day. i don't usually co-write, though, because my writing muse is so finicky, it's not really dependable.

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

i don't think i could choose, don't make me!

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

honestly, at this point, it's unfortunately one i felt very passionate about: angel, interrupted. i had started slowly writing it and building up this au when the poor quality of the show just began wearing on me and the fandom in general wore on me even further until i've ... kinda just fallen out of love with it. :/ i don't hate it, not at all, i guess i just need more time and separation from the bullshit. at least i hope that'll help. i truly do want to finish it, i just feel absolutely no drive to do so right now.

What are your writing strengths?

angst, definitely lol

What are your writing weaknesses?

dialogue and certain characters

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

i think it's cool and i like to incorporate it when i can. i am kinda leery and cautious when i don't actually know the language well, myself, tho. i don't wanna muck it up lol.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

in general? star wars. that i posted on ao3? harry potter.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

it feels like i keep harping on this one lol but the path we choose is just one i'm so, so proud of. the examination of guilt and regret in the form of a one-shot set against the mojave, with the courier discussing their issues and joshua graham offering support and comfort. one of my friends called joshua (in this fic) a shepard rather than a hand of vengeance, and i really do like writing him that way. plus zelda needs all the help she can get lol and really, we all do.

i tag @dreadfutures, @warpedlegacy, and @dumbassentity! if you were tagged before, sorry :P and no pressure if you don't wanna partake. and if anyone wants to do this, consider this your tag!

#writer #writing tag #writing stuff

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sunflowerhae · 4 years

Note

butterflies by Kacey musgraves with jeno pls 🥺 I was LITERALLY listening to this song while I saw your post and took it as a sign 🥺

|📣 ▹▹ it WAS a sign my love! Enjoy! Also, I will say this is a bit longer than the others, so yeah lol🦋

Send in your own request!✨🍰🌙

|⚠️ caterpillar’s unfortunate death

“I was just coasting, never really going anywhere. Caught up in a web, I was getting kind of used to staying there”

You’ve known you didn’t like Lee Jeno since you were eight years old.

It was October; the leaves on the ground made loud, crunchy noises that were music to your ears when you walked home, and the weather was just cold enough for your mother to pack you into a light blue jacket and pull a beanie over your head before sending you off with a kiss and your peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

It was the day you had been waiting for, for what seemed like weeks; Miss Stacy’s First Grade Class was going to start raising butterflies.

You had been paired off into groups of four kids to one butterfly. You were in a group with a young girl named Yeri, and two boys named Renjun and Jeno. You would sometimes play tag with Yeri, and Renjun was your tetherball partner. You hadn’t had many interactions with Jeno; the older boy was always too busy playing kickball with the other boys to play with any of the girls - let alone you - but it didn’t matter to you; nothing did. All you could focus on was your beautiful caterpillar, and the excitement you felt about raising and then releasing it.

You had a routine.

Everyday, Renjun and you would come into the class and check on your caterpillar; change it’s water, give it more leaves; anything it needed, you gave it. In the afternoon, after lunch, Jeno and Yeri would do the same. However, that day Yeri had left school at lunch; her retreating figure slumping along as she did the walk of shame to her mother; anxious about the dentist appointment she had. You didn’t think twice before getting up from your spot under the tree and walking to the sand field not far from you; Jeno’s figure in your line of sight. He was waiting for his turn up to kick, laughing at something Na Jaemin had whispered to him, when he felt a small peck on his shoulder.

“H-hi Jeno oppa,” You shyly mumbled while looking down at your light up sketchers, not used to interacting with the elder boy.

“Hi.”

“So um, Yeri unnie left for the day, so I’ll be helping you with your caterpillar duties.”

Jeno gave you a confused look. “Oh, Why did noona leave?”

“Um, a dentist appointment I think.”

He shrugged his shoulders and gave you a weak, “okay,” Before turning back to the game.

You thought it was okay.

But clearly, it was not.

“I don’t understand why we even have to do this.” Jeno whined next to you as you wrote down how much the caterpillar had eaten since this morning to now (2 WHOLE leaves).

“Because, well...it’s cute” you shrugged.

“Well, I don’t want to do this lame work. We wouldn’t have to if we just killed the bug.” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Kill the caterpillar? Not on your watch.

“N-no! We can’t kill it! It’s a living thing! Would you kill a cat?”

Jeno’s eyes went wide, and he frantically shook his head. “No! But this isn’t a cat, it’s a caterpillar!” He laughed.

You didn’t think this was a laughing matter, so you gave a small ‘humph’ and turned your head so you weren’t looking at Jeno anymore. Jeno, wanting to play a small joke on you, took this opportunity to silently open the caterpillar's cage, take out said caterpillar, and hide it in between his hands. He thought it was so funny; seeing you turn and freak out because the caterpillar wasn’t there anymore.

What wasn’t funny was when Jeno totally forgot living things need air to breathe.

It was quite a scene to behold; you were standing by the teacher's desk, sobbing so hard that snot came out of your nose, while softly holding the dead caterpillar's body in your little hands and caressing it with your left index finger. You couldn’t help but feel absolutely terrible. Somewhere out there, a little mommy butterfly is wondering when her baby will be home from his adventures in human children's land, and he’ll never return. He’ll never get to turn into a beautiful butterfly, and fly in the wind; spreading his beauty.

Jeno was also trying not the cry. He didn’t mean to kill the caterpillar. He just wanted to play a small prank on the girl he thought was pretty like his mommy. He did actually want to see the caterpillar turn into a butterfly. Renjun tried assuring him that it wasn’t a big deal, but Jeno still felt guilty. Especially when you wouldn’t stop caressing and petting the caterpillar, saying that, that way it doesn’t feel scared, or lonely. Saying that out loud to your teacher made you cry even more, and you didn’t stop crying until you were safely in the arms of your own mommy, while she pet your hair and held you while walking to the car.

The next day, you saw Jeno laughing and playing with his friends; seemingly having forgotten all about the caterpillar incident the day before. Your blood boiled. In the end, you got put into another caterpillar group, and got to release the butterflies anyway; but you never forgot about that one caterpillar incident with Jeno, and you vowed to never let your guard down around the older boy, and to always hate him.

And you had perfectly upheld that vow until sophomore year of high school.

“Now you're lifting me up, instead of holding me down Stealing my heart instead of stealing my crown Untangled all the strings round my wings that were tied”

Week 1

“It’s your fault we’re in here, so shut up!” Jeno had been nothing short of annoying for the past week while you both sat out your punishments in after school detention.

Why were you in after school detention, you ask?

It was no surprise that you two went the ways you did after elementary school. Jeno, being the most popular varsity soccer player by sophomore year - and you, being a valued member (gunning for president by senior year) of the photography club. It was because of the ways you two went, that you ended up in the position of taking the soccer photos for the yearbook. You had to stay at their practice for the whole two hours, but took a break halfway through to catch up on a bit of homework. Jeno, wanting to always be the center of (your) attention, thought it would be a hilarious prank to kick a soccer ball at you while you were looking down at your homework. The first time was harmless. It landed at your feet and startled you, sure, but you just glared at a laughing Jeno while throwing it - albeit, weakly - back. However, the second time he kicked it, neither of you got so lucky.

And that’s how you ended up with a broken $630 camera, Jeno with a bruised (you weren’t that good at punching) nose, and the both of you with a months worth of after school detention.

“My fault?! You’re the one that punched me!” You both sat at opposite ends of the classroom, but that didn’t stop you from fighting. The teacher had walked out to go get more coffee, so you two were free to argue.

“And you’re the one that broke my camera!” You fired back, which initiated you both yelling on top of each other in anger. Jeno wouldn’t usually be too upset about a small incident like this, but after school detention collided with his soccer schedule - which meant that for the next month, Jeno was off the team.

And boy, did he hate that.

“ENOUGH enough! Listen, I really don’t want to talk to you, so you stay on your side and I’ll stay on mine, deal?” You offered, already tired of yelling. Thankfully, Jeno mumbled out a,

“Fine,” and turned his gaze out the window with a sigh, just as the teacher was walking back in.

Week 2

“I need help with my homework.” Many people thought you were an easy A kind of person. You came off as a smart kid, but you secretly kept it in that your grades were genuinely terrible, and just prayed that no one found out.

Usually you would be with your math tutor, but with after school detention, that wasn’t possible. The teacher was, once again, not in the room (that happened a lot, although the times she was there, she was sleeping), and so your only hope was unfortunately, well, Lee Jeno. You knew he was smart - sports kids had to have good grades. You really hoped that he would help you, and wouldn’t laugh, and wouldn’t tell anyone that he did.

When he heard you, he was so ready to laugh in your face and spit out a “no way”, but when he looked up and saw your pouty gaze, well, he was sold. So, instead, he mumbled out a small, “yeah sure” - to which you smiled and took a seat next to him.

It was only once you were already out of the school building did you realize that not only did you two not fight that whole time, but you actually made jokes with each other, and you sat with him the rest of detention.

Shit.

Week 3

“-And so I quickly grabbed her and said ‘no yeri, those aren’t eggs!’ And she spit them out onto the floor while yelling!” The milk Jeno was in the middle of downing quickly flew from his nostrils as he broke out in laughter at the climax of the story you were telling him. You quickly had to shush him while laughing yourself; making wide eyed glances back and forth between him and your detention teachers slumped figure.

It wasn’t that you two were friends, oh no, definitely not. You just had no one else to talk to in detention, so Jeno and you found yourselves sitting next to each other and actually having civilized conversations that didn’t end in having to be separated. The thought of you two being friends still disgusted you, and you refused to admit that you were becoming close.

This is as far as I will get you told yourself.

I only have one more week, and then I can go back to hating him.

But do I still want to?

You didn’t know this, obviously, but Jeno was thinking the same thing.

Week 4

You and Jeno were slowly walking down the empty hallways of your school after your last detention together. Not a word was said between the two of you; both afraid of what might be shared.

You didn’t want to stop talking to Jeno. In the last four weeks, you’ve come to actually enjoy your time together - finding that you had more in common than you thought. While you never would have admitted it before, you’ve always kind of wanted to get to know Jeno, even if you did think he was a jerk. So the idea of not talking to him made you quite upset, though you tried not to show it.

Finally, the two of you got to the entrance doors of your high school, but neither pushed them open. You both just stood there, exchanging awkward glances back and forth, and hoping that the other wouldn’t leave. This went on for around a minute, before something was finally said by Jeno, “y/n, can I be honest,” you nodded, “I don’t want to go back to hating you.”

“Same!” You exclaimed a bit too quickly, the both of you giggling messes at the fact.

“Actually, if it’s alright with you, I was wondering if you, maybe, I don’t know, wanted to see a movie with me tomorrow?” He awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, and in the pit of your stomach, you could feel a lonely little butterfly begin to flap its wings as you nodded at his offer with a smile on your face.

“Now I remember what it feels like to fly You give me butterflies”

The breeze from the open windows pulled and pushed your hair every which way as you closed your eyes and smiled from your spot in the passenger seat.

The speaker was blasting with Kacey Musgraves, and you almost felt yourself falling asleep, but the hand that slid into your own had you opening your eyes and glancing at the boy occupying the driver's seat. He was glancing back and forth between the road and yourself with a smile on his face, and you couldn’t help the content sigh that fell past your lips.

“What’s up, baby?” Jeno mumbled, always worried when it came to you.

“Nothing, you just make me so happy.”

Jeno’s smile widened, and he brought your interlocked hands up to his lips, and kissed the back of your hand, before looking at you and saying, “happy three year anniversary”.

First, your mind is occupied with that little 8th year old girl, crying while glancing down at the dead caterpillar in her hands.

Then, you think back to that moment in front of the entrance doors to your school, where that little butterfly in your stomach popped up for the first time, and your heart warms at the thought that that butterfly lives in a garden of its own kind now.

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exhoe-imagines · 4 years

Note

Since I am in the midst of wedding planning, would love to hear what you guys think each of the EXO boys' wedding would turn out like (assuming their partners give them total control 😂)! But also an important lesson I learned: social distancing doesn't stop people from reaching out virtually to you so me time became so much more essential these days!!

teehee we’re still so excited for your wedding 🥺🥺🥺 and we had a lot of fun discussing this crackhead shit LOL – also you’re SO right. texting is suddenly blowing up and i’m like “time to check out” JKDSJFAKWE

minseok ✧ i feel like he’s a great middle ground. he’ll keep you sane and handle the stuff that you don’t have time for, he’ll give valid and real comments, but won’t be controlling. it’s very much a team effort. unless you want like a candy bar or something bc “darling, that’s a little out there.” and you’re like minseok, have some FUN. live your best LIFE. but it’s ok bc he’ll get you everything you want as a surprise and you’ll cry like “omg” and he’ll just PREEN bc YES he IS the greatest husband 😌

luhan ✧ im sorry you’re giving HIM control? u want him to go into CARDIAC ARREST??? if you want your wedding to take place in a shack with 6 people attending, then sure, by all means, give lu control. but if not, please for the love of GOD do not ask him. he’ll put in comments every now and then (for cake flavors definitely or like. his tie color or some shit like that) but if you ask him to pick between maroon and rhubarb he’ll ERROR 404: LUHAN IS NOT RESPONDING. and just stand there like a mannuquein 😳😳😳

yifan ✧ oh christ don’t do that to him, he can only handle so much LOL. he’ll defintiely tag along for everything bc he’s clingy and he wants to see the dress/tux/whatever you pick and you’re like “it’s a surprISE YIFAN” but he does Not Care. but he doesn’t know the difference between silk or satin so he’s basically no help KAMFKSFJKE. he does pull up with the hella gaudy shit tho and you’re like “yifan you cannot have GOLD CHAINS as part of your outfit” and he’s like “but babe,, the swag” 😎

junmyeon ✧ ok myeon is the MVP. he’s like Peak Husband Material. he’s picky but sweet – makes sure you get what you want but isn’t a groomzilla u feel? like he’ll send that sickly sweet smile to the dress/tux assistant and be like “my love asked for the WHITE piece, not the IVORY, thank you :)” and they’re like “o-of course mr. kim!!” and you’re like “omg junmymeoN PLS.” but everyone loves him bc he tips well and is geniunely kind when he isn’t standing up for you LMAO 😂

yixing ✧ ok definitely another good balance one. he’ll let you know who he wants invited, what kinda traditional things are a Must Have, etc. but he’s SO SUPPORTIVE of what you want. like you can geniunely pick ANYTHING as long as he gets his like,, two small requirements. you could walk out in a trash bag and be like “i want this” and he’d tear up like “anything you want, baobei” and drop $4k to get a gucci plastic bag. deadass. and god he CRIES at the wedding bc you do SO well and keep his wishes in mind and WOW he loves u 😭

baekhyun ✧ ok he wouldn’t do a HORRIBLE job if you gave him all the control -- who am i kidding. your wedding would end up looking like a frat party. however, he do got POPPIN ideas. he will be zero help for the vital shit, but if you want some crazy shit, he’s the man. he’ll be like “ok babe don’t be mad -- i forgot to book the venue BUT i found a tiny dog tux for Mongryong so he can be our ring bearer what do you think!!” and for a moment you consider what it would be like to live in widowhood ☠️

jongdae ✧ the PICKIEST motherfucker. ik i mentioned that in the drabble i wrote you, but like i am SERIOUS. you will go to like twelve bakeries before he finally settles on some BASIC ASS FLAVOR like vanilla and you’re like “i might murder you.” but he makes sure you’re picky too so you get EXACTLY what you want and the day of, when everything is set you’re like Hol Up. this do be poppin. it’s everything you dreamed of and you DO be having to thank jongdae for his brattiness after all 😪

chanyeol ✧ honestly bold of us to assume he’d have any role in the planning bc he’s too busy teasing you over how seriously you take it all. to keep you from going crazy tho, he pulls a few pranks and you’re 🤏🏼 this close to calling off the wedding when he makes you think the decorations came in the wrong color or some shit. but on the acutal wedding day, he surprises you with a new song/dance and you realize he’s actually been taking care of something very important this whole time too ❤️

kyungsoo ✧ god you have chosen the BEST man to plan with. he’s so patient and attends EVERY appointment with you. he takes SUCH good care of you and makes sure you’re never stressed or piling too much on your plate. just a total gentleman. he’d book you a huge bridal/groom suite for the night before the wedding with white roses and all this cheesy shit and he would NEVER LIVE IT DOWN. and then when you think he can’t get any better he surpries you with a secret honeymoon trip and you’re like “god is real huh” 🙏🏼

zitao ✧ hahaha you think you GIVE him permission and he doesn’t just TAKE it? hahaha. that’s a GOOD one. prepare for the most extra reception and ceremony you have EVER seen. but don’t worry, you and tao will be the only ones who have any opinion on the planning. your friend will be like “what if you guys-” and tao’s like “did someone say something.” so by all means, tell him everything you want, bc he WILL get it for you. and on the special day he cries like a baby and you’re like AW bc u think he’s being all lovey-dovey but he’s just like “wow i did SO good” 😢

jongin ✧ wedding? did you mean an excuse for a huge party? do not, and i can not stress this enough, do NOT give him all the control. the second you do, he’s inviting every friend and family member to come help him bc he has NO CLUE what he’s doing. but it’s ok you keep them all in check and you’ll get what you want bc your manz is whipped. and when you and your wedding party get stressed, he just hands you $15k and is like “go on a shopping trip babey ily” and you’re like “maybe you’re not THAT bad, kim” 🤑🤑🤑

sehun ✧ he INSISTS on being included in every MINISCULE step. i mean EVERYTHING. and so you’re like “fine baby, what do you want?” and his mind goes blank. he truly has no opinion. no help whatsoever. you’re like “cream or ivory?” and he’s like “what’s that.” so he ends up flaking and you plan most of it – thankfully !! but when you walk down the aisle he SOBS and you’re like “ok fine you’re redeemed” 🥰

bro.. this was a Blast. ily and ur asks and im sorry we take 100 years to answer them MFJAKLFJEAWKGJWE - admin ruby and admin jewels

🌙 SLEEPOVER SATURDAY 🌙

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headoverhiddles · 5 years

Text

Like A Heretic - Marilyn Manson x Reader [Fluff]

Synopsis: You know Manson from one (1) party, yet he feels the need to drunk text you his obscene propositions at 2 am on a Wednesday?

Notes: What?? I wrote a fluff fic?? Yea, it’s been known to happen. Shhh. Pale Emperor era. Also, this one is gender neutral, reader can be any gender!

You collapse into the plush of your down comforter, feeling the fluffy feathers sink beneath you. Smiling to yourself, you clear the day away in your brain, bulldozing over every worry, publicity problem, or stressed manager that could be dealt with the next day. For now, you’re in your bed, and nothing can come between you and a peaceful night’s sleep.

You cuddle into your pillow. The feeling you’ve got right now is comparable to a the perfect orgasm-- you never want to leave this bed. Your mind starts to drift, and you picture yourself on a beach somewhere, where no one can reach you. No one... no one... except that bee buzzing in your ear.

Groggily, you open your eyes. That’s not a bee. It’s your phone.

Dammit, why didn’t you put it on silent? You go to turn it off properly, but the text on your screen makes you hesitate. You blink a few times, squinting through the dark at your phone. Were you reading that right?!

Manson: Hey (y/n) psssst. I’ve got a secret can I tell you the secret

“What the fuck?” you mumble out loud, and sigh, turning on your bedside lamp. Manson? What... oh. Oh, yeah. About two months ago, you had attended a music awards event in New York, and had met a few new people. One of them had been Marilyn Manson. He had been a lot more down to earth than you had imagined he would be, and the two of you hit it off pretty well.

It struck you as interesting as well, but he had followed you around that night like a lost puppy. He always wanted to be around you, and it had been him who had suggested you exchange numbers, maybe hang out, go see a movie or something. You had excitedly given him your number, but didn’t think much would come of it. He probably got lots of people’s numbers, then forgot about them the next week.

So why was he texting you at... 2:13 in the morning?! You stare at the same text again.

Manson: Hey (y/n) psssst. I’ve got a secret can I tell you the secret

You bite your lip, and type out a quick text back.

(y/n): Shoot.

His reply is almost immediate.

Manson: I wanted to say when I saw you and we hung out at radio city last month you were cute really sexy n beautiful ad I miss you :( :(

You blush a little bit, but type back a cautious text.

(y/n): You feeling alright?

Before you can hit send though, another text from him comes in.

Manson: If you think I am drunk and handsome you are correct, i’m both

You giggle a little, and sit up fully. Manson’s drunk texting you, telling you you’re cute? This couldn’t get any crazier if you made it up.

Manson: Do you know what sexting is?

You raise your eyebrows.

(y/n): I’m familiar with it, yes.

You bite your lip. Should you add a winky face? Before you can, he writes back.

Manson: what if i told you I wanted to lick your body ad probably do butt stuff with you too?

You feel yourself heat up even more, and you don’t know whether to laugh or get aroused.

(y/n): You fucking with me, Manson?

Manson: I would like to fuck you, yes.

(y/n): So... tell me more, then. What else would you do to me?

Manson: Id cum on your chest

Manson: oops was that too far?

(y/n): No... go on.

Manson: maybe on your face then if you want that, I wanna be respectful

Manson: I’d also punish your sex hole. i’m really good at that

(y/n): You sound like a porn bot lol

Manson: dirty old man in your area looking for hot singles <3 that looks like a pointy dick

You giggle, and are about to sign off so you can sleep for real, but he texts again with something that makes you pause.

Manson: Wanna cum over?

You stare at the text, waiting to see if he’ll write again. You wait, and wait. Nothing else is coming in. You type out a few possible responses. Then you finally hit send on your last one, biting your lip.

(y/n): What’s your address?

Shit. Shit shit! What are you doing? Looking back at your bed though, you can’t deny you feel a thrill. This is the shit you moved here to LA to do.

---

Pulling up to Manson’s address, the place is just like him-- not what you were expecting. It’s a dark apartment above a liquor store, with black out curtains covering the window. You walk over to the stairs, and catch the door when someone walks out. Heading inside, you look down at your phone, and find his number. Apartment 15.

You knock softly, and wait. When he doesn’t come to the door, you shoot him off another text.

(y/n): I’m at your door, don’t leave me hanging or I’ll leave you with a hard on

He doesn’t respond, and you hear a moan inside. You frown, and try the door handle-- it’s open. You walk in, forgetting momentarily where you are, and see that the place is a relative mess. Piles high of books, records and movies are stacked along the walls, and there’s like, one dying plant by the darkened window. It’s laughable to assume the poor thing gets any sun, which is also a statement that could be applied to the rock star you’d come to sleep with.

A bunch of album artwork for his new record, the Pale Emperor, is laid out on his table as well. You take a quick glance at it, before dropping your jacket.

“Hey,” you call out, “I’m taking my top off! You’re gonna miss it if you don’t come find me!” You hear the moan again, and walk down the hallway. “Oh, fuck.”

“’M alright...” He’s on the floor, in a puddle, four small cats surrounding him. One rusty colored one is lapping from the puddle. Was this a Jimmi Hendrix situation???

“Please don’t tell me that’s piss,” you mutter, “Cause I am not cleaning that up.”

One of his four cats meows loudly. Manson just laughs. “It’s vodka. I slipped and broke the bottle.”

“That I can clean up,” you nod, but first, you help him to his feet. He wobbles a little, and falls into you. Pinned against the wall, his lips are inches from yours... until his head thumps beside yours, lips pressed into your neck. He’s so fucking gone. You look around, and spot the washroom down the hall the other way. You help him slowly, and he keeps talking the whole way.

“You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous,” he mumbles, “My brain camera remembered you were hot but I didn’t remember you being this hot... mmhm...”

“You still down to fuck me?” you tease, helping him sit on the edge of his bathtub. His eyes widen a bit as he licks his lips and points a swaying finger.

“Baby I was born ready to fuck. I came out of the womb with an erection.”

You cringe. “That’s... a very disturbing mental image.”

“You know what else is disturbing? My DICK.” He frowns a little, nose scrunching up. “But not for... it’s not disturbing, it’s just disturbing how big it is... or...”

“Stop, you’re turning me on,” you smirk sarcastically, and get a towel, dabbing his face down with cool water. “How does that feel?”

“Oh baby, you feel so good, fuck,” he moans, and you blink. God damn, he really is wasted.

“Good to hear.” You plant a kiss on his cheek as you sponge down his arms, and he purrs like a big happy cat, nuzzling into your chest.

“Do that again?” You smile, and lean in, kissing him again, this time closer to his mouth. Then you kiss him again, and again, each one earning more praise from the god of fuck before you. “Mm yeah-- oh yeah-- yeah yeah, right there-- yeah yeah right there...” He grins, eyes closing. “Mmm, delightful.” He blinks up at you, swiping a hand across his smudged eyeliner. “Will you... be my friend?”

“Sure. Friends to lovers is always a fun way to go.” He seems genuinely happy with this. “You know, you’re sexy too,” you say, helping him take his shirt off. You glance down his chest and stomach at his tattoos, trying to focus on the project at hand instead of actually picturing riding him right now. “I thought so the night I met you at Radio City, and I think so now.”

“Really?” he hums, reaching up in his stupor to put a hand against his chin. He suddenly seems bashful, and realizing how vulnerable he’s made himself, hides half of his face. “Even without my makeup?”

“Definitely. I happen to think you’re beautiful.” He purses his lips.

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not! In fact, if you weren’t absolutely shit hammered right now, I’d probably want you balls deep.”

He groans. “Fuck it if I’m drunk, that’s when I’m in my strongest form!” He slips a little, steadying himself on the toilet as he stands.

“I would disagree with that, but...”

“Besides, with all those compliments, you’re... you’re making my dick hard, see? And now it’s... ahh, it’s gonna be mad at me if I don’t... you know, fuck you, so...”

“Shh, for now try to walk straight.”

“Where are my asshole cats?”

“They were all watching you describe your dick to me,” you say, and he wags a finger their way.

“Dooon’t listen to daddy, my loves. Nonono. Bad. This is grown up human people talk!”

You giggle. “You must like cats.”

“I am a cat person, I love cats. That’s why I don’t give it doggy style, cause I’m a cat man. The crazy cat man. That sounds like a serial killer...”

You giggle, and guide him back down the hall. “Where’s the bedroom?” He lifts his chin to gesture to it.

“Last door on the right.” You help him into bed, and he tosses a pillow at a tall vase in the corner, sending it shattering. “Goddamn ghosts in my house, watching me sleep,” he slurs, and points wildly to his closet. “The sex toys are in there, if you wanna get yourself started...”

You smile, politely neglecting the sex closet of the rock star you’d been booty called by. Masturbating in said rock star’s home while he’s passed out shitfaced doesn’t look good for anyone involved.

“Goodnight Manson,” you sing song, and shut his door. Pressing your back against it, you exhale. What just happened?

You carefully walk over to the spilled vodka, and check the shards of glass. Thankfully no blood anywhere-- that would have been even worse to clean up. You grab a rag from the kitchen, and start mopping up the floor. One of his cats walks over from the bathroom, and starts to rub against your ankle.

“Well, hi. What’s your name, love?” You check the tag. “William. Very handsome name. Handsome just like your dad.” You sigh, as William follows you around the apartment. You feel like you shouldn’t be here anymore. It was a mistake-- he was obviously too drunk to do anything to or with you tonight. You should just leave. Yeah. Go back home, forget this ever happened and... maybe check in with him tomorrow morning, see how bad his hangover is. If he responds.

Just as you’re about to leave though, you hear his slurred voice call from the bedroom. “(y/n)--!”

You hesitate, then walk back in, shutting the door. You walk over to his room, and open the door. “Yeah?”

“...Get into bed with me? Please? Wanna hold someone...”

You look behind you, and then to him again, where he’s laying, tangled in his limbs, in the large bed. You nod, and close the door to a crack, coming in. You unzip your hoodie, and before you can come to your senses, you get into one side of his king sized bed. You hear him breathing softly, and smile a little at the sudden intimacy of it all, turning over in fetal position. Not how you expected this night to turn out, but it might be even better.

Just as you’re falling asleep in the bed of the Antichrist, you feel arms wrap around you from behind, and feel his head in the nape of your neck. Beginnings of rare stubble scratch your skin pleasantly.

“This an okay alternative to butt stuff?” he mumbles, and you reach up to hold his wrists against you.

“It’s perfect.”

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junkratsloverat · 4 years

Note

22 and Cullen from the kiss prompts? (toogay)

22. a kiss that is leading to more, but is interrupted by a third party

this is such a cute idea, tysm @toogayforthistoday!! :3 sorry for taking so long, i got distracted by the ovw event and getting the new emote for jamie lol

i’ve had a college au in my head for a long time now, and this is the first time i’ve written for it; hopefully it’s ok sjkdhfsldfs

length: 8563 characters ; 1570 words

warnings: gets a little steamy ｜−・;） nothing explicit tho!

[ more kisses! ]

“...it’s 72, love.”

“Right, that’s what I said.”

“You wrote 82.”

“No I didn- yeah I did. Dammit.” I mumbled, fixing the mistake. “Why did I do that?”

Cullen shrugged, leaning over to rest his head on my shoulder. “Come on. What’s the next one?”

I glanced at the clock beside my bed. We’d been trying to put a dent in my math homework for a solid three hours, but it didn’t feel like any of it was sticking, even with Cullen’s best efforts. Granted trying to study on my bed with our backs against the wall may not have been the best place to try, but my dorm had the quiet of a library without the social anxiety of studying around other people. For a few more hours, anyway.

I sighed, tucking the finished worksheet inside my notebook and hesitantly taking out the next one. “Do we have to do another one?”

He considered it, but eventually nodded. “Yeah. One more. But if you promise that we’ll finish the rest tomorrow, it can be the last one. Is that fair?”

“Okaaay...” I rolled my eyes, which got me a Glare. “Whaaat? I told you I hate this stuff.”

“It’s still important.” He chided, gently elbowing my side.

“For you, sure. But I’m majoring in art stuff, I ain’t gonna need this.”

“But what if you did?”

“...theeeen my super sweet boyfriend would come help me?”

He laughed, but immediately turned an adorable shade of pink. “Focus, you. A-and don’t look at me like that! Your puppy eyes are unfair.”

“Psh — have you seen yours?” I asked, hoping to cover up the heat I felt rushing to my face. “You could get the biggest monsters in the Fade to-”

Cullen planted a chaste kiss to my cheek, cutting that train of thought before it could get anywhere. “Focus. We’re almost done.”

“R-right!” I nodded, taking a deep breath. “Focusing. Gotcha.”

He grinned, kissing my temple. “That’s my girl. You’ve got this; just remember what I taught you.”

Right. Because I was 100% listening the entire time, and never got distracted by how cute you are. Not once.

“...why are you staring at me? Is everything ok?”

I nodded, despite knowing my face was turning a brighter shade of red. “Uh huh. Peachy.”

He smirked, eyeing me curiously. “Would a kiss for every correct answer be better motivation?”

The speed at which I turned back to my work and started scrawling numbers down on what was left of my scratch paper must’ve been enough of an answer — thankfully, since I wasn’t sure if I could give him a verbal ‘yes’ without my voice going up an octave and looking like a bigger dork than usual. Cullen’s head came to rest on my shoulder again as he watched, gently nudging me or clearing his throat when I’d mix up my numbers. It would’ve been peaceful, if I didn’t have to do math the entire time...

It took me close to an hour, but the relief that flowed through me as I passed my notebook to Cullen after I’d finished... almost made it worth it. Watching him go through my answers helped, too — his confused head tilt was almost like a puppy’s, and his occasional looks of surprise were super cute, too.

“Sooo... how’d I do?”

He hesitated. “Do you want the good news first? Or the bad news?”

“Uh... bad?”

“You still missed five of them-” I groaned, burying my face in his arm “-but I think I know why you did.”

Thankfully, the revision process was much quicker than my original try. Would what he taught me stick this time? It’s debatable, but I wouldn’t put much money on it.

“Wait, was that the good news?” I asked after we finished fixing everything. “That you knew what part I got so hung up on?”

Cullen shook his head. “It was that you had the other 25 right. But now that we fixed them, you got all 30.”

“...riiiight.”

We sat in silence for a minute as I put my books in my bag and tossed it back to its resting space by the end of my bed. When my attention turned back to Cullen, he was still watching me — smiling, but also like he was waiting for something.

“...what?”

He pouted and tossed one of the plushes from my pillows at me, making us both laugh. “Do you want your 30 kisses or not?”

“OH. Right. I, uh...”

“Forgot?”

“Not ‘forgot!’ I just... was so focused on my homework that-”

“That you forgot.” He giggled. “Maker’s breath — how would you remember anything without me?”

“I never did,” I admitted, motioning to the perfectly-made bed across the room. “Ask Josie.”

Cullen shook his head, but he was still smiling. “Come here.”

I scooted closer to him, resting against the wall again. I started to cross my legs, but he sat up on his knees and planted himself in my lap before I could. We almost bumped foreheads as his hands landed against the wall behind me, turning us both a nice shade of red.

“Are we still... good?” I asked hesitantly, tilting my head. “’cause I’m still good. Are you? Still, uh...”

His face softened, smiling as he cupped my cheek and caressed it with his thumb. “Y-yeah. Just a bit... flustered, that’s all.”

“Ok, cool. Me too.” I giggled, subconsciously resting against his hand. “Should I, like... count these, or...”

He nodded, brushing my hair away from my face and kissing my forehead, peppering a few more down the side of my face.

“Right, ok. So that’s one, two, three...”

“See?” He grinned, kissing my nose. “You are good at math.”

I snorted. “Dude, I wish. Five- that counted for five, right?”

“Uh huh.” He cupped my face with both hands, giving my lips a brief kiss. “And that’s six.”

He quickly pressed his lips to mine again, only pulling away long enough for me to say the next number before drawing me in for another kiss. One of his hands slowly worked its way behind my head, the other guiding my hands to his shoulders, where they probably should’ve been the entire time.

The kisses kept getting longer, leaving me less time between them to try and remember what number I was supposed to say next.

“F-fourteen...” I mumbled as he pulled away from my face to trail a few kisses down my neck, “fifffteen—”

“I told you she’d want boba!! Why the hell did you buy bubbles?!” questioned an upset Cassandra from the hallway outside our dorm.

“You called it ‘bubble tea’!” was the muffled response, presumably Sera’s. “What else would I get?”

The whole ruckus caused us both to almost jump out of our skins; Cullen quickly pulled back and stared at me like a panicked deer. “I thought you said they weren’t supposed to be home until later!” he whispered.

I shrugged, whispering the best reply I had. “Maybe it is later?”

“Hannah!!”

“I’m sorry! My blood ain’t exactly rushin’ to my brain right now!”

“It’s alright, I bought enough for all of us.” Josie piped up from outside, the group’s voices getting louder as they reached our front door. “Could one of you get the door open for me? And, Sera, you know you can’t drink actual bubbles... don’t you?”

“Pfft! Only if you’re too scared to try.”

“Ah, mercy-” I mutter, trying to reach for my bookbag, forgetting I’d tossed it to the floor.

Cullen shook his head, grabbing a textbook from his backpack, which he thankfully hadn’t thrown across the room... unlike me. “We can use one of mine!”

“Aye, lovebirds! We brought worms!” Sera announced from the next room, giggling to herself.

Cassandra groaned. “She means we brought food!”

“Huh. Nest looks empty. Reckon they’re still here?”

“They have to be,” Josie replied, sitting down whatever she’d been carrying. “Hannah would’ve texted us if they left.”

Cullen and I were still scrambling to look like we were studying while the footsteps outside kept getting louder. We barely had sat down beside each other again before Sera knocked twice and opened the door. “They’re back here!!” she yelled over her shoulder before looking us up and down and giggling again. “Lookin’ real warm and cozy, too.”

“You’re supposed to wait after you knock,” Josie reminded her gently, stepping through the doorway. She didn’t say anything at first, but the smirk on her face gave away that we cut it real close. “How’s the studying going?”

“It’s good!” I answered a bit too quickly, making Cullen elbow my side. “Real — ow — really good. Got all my math right and everything, heh...”

“Did you now? Is that why you’re using Cullen’s criminology book?”

He nodded. “She’s... helping me now! S-so it balances out.”

“Alright.” Sera cut in, grinning. “Then why’s it upside down?”

“I- uh-”

“W-well... we were, um...”

Cassandra had joined the jury now, leaning against the doorframe and sipping from her own boba cup. I caught her gaze, mentally pleading for help, but she just shrugged. “Don’t let me interrupt you.”

I turned to Cullen, hoping to find some kind of answers there, but his face was redder than a sunset, and he was biting on the end of a stray pencil he’d picked up from somewhere — looking to me for the exact same thing.

There was no easy way for us to get out of this one.

#answered #jl.fic #starseed #au: win the fight and go out for pizzas #tysm for this! :3 #i think this is the longest thing ive written for fun in years lol #posting at 2am bc im afraid tumblr will eat this if i dont owo;;#hopefully it doesnt tho!#anon #toogayforthistoday

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shaekingshitup · 4 years

Text

unintended part three

A/N: I forgot I wrote this but @twistedcharismaaa reminded me that I did. I didn’t have the wonderful @glittermakesmesmile sooo bare with me if you be seein mistakes. Please lmk what you think! I’m lowkey tipsy sooo I may have to come back and re-edit this later lol. I lowkey lost my taglist. Imma find it and make a new one soon. So hakuna matata. Also, the quality of some of these photos are trash but we gone live. It’s better than Teddy’s wifi. So, we good.

WC: about 3994 (Sorry C!)

Warnings: mmm like maybe PG smut? Like for real I chickened out on that. So no worries boo.

Jayden’s OOTD:

Jayden was shocked that she had held onto her composure thus far. The exchanges that she’d had with Trevor had been spicy from jump. Neither had sent any nudes, but the innuendos and open ended interpretations on what would happen the next time they were in the same room left her mind occupied every night since she’d met him three weeks ago.

This was her second trip around his block trying to find a parking spot.

“Oo oo ooo!” She said throwing her car in reverse and slowly retreating from the stop sign. The owner of the parked Kia Soul that had just beeped was going to be getting all of the good karma today. She patiently sat in her car as the woman who vaguely resembled Gwen Stefani started her ignition and departed. Jayden parallel parked her Honda Civic SI 2018 coupe perfectly into the spot. She flipped the visor down to do a final check of her beat before she grabbed her handbag and the drink tray from her passenger seat. She double checked the address on her phone and approached the door.

Ringing the doorbell she did her best to quell any nerves that she felt. She instead allowed her mind to swim with thoughts on how good this man was going to look opening up this door. She could see movement through his front window and jutted her hip out a little further so that the slit in her skirt accentuated her leg a little more.

Trevor opened the door with a smile that held her full attention. “Hey J” he greeted. She cheesed back at him unable to cease the wrinkles that this man would be destined to leave her with. As her eyes trailed down his frame she took note of his pink distressed sweater, the grey joggers and the black socks which adorned his feet and completed his outfit. Trevor watched her watch him and observed the question mark which took over her disposition. She didn’t ask any questions outright but it was plain on her face.

“Hey,” she gave back with a deflated smile. Trevor opened the door wider for her to come in. They stood in his entrance and Trevor took the drink tray from her as Jayden removed her shoes and placed them on the small rack that was next to his front door.

“This is really convenient,” she noted as she allowed her soles to meet the cool tile of his floor.

“Yeah, this way I don’t have to worry about too much people bringing outside inside my home. Come on,” he said with a tilt of his head to indicate the direction they were headed. Trevor brought her into his kitchen which was adjacent to his living room. He placed the drink tray containing his coffee and her water cup on the counter.

“Thank you for this by the way,” he said, grabbing his coffee and taking a sip. He had never felt awkward in his own home before. But I suppose there’s a first for everything. He had been feelin this woman since day one. Now three weeks later here she was looking devourable in his kitchen and he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Well one of us had to keep up our end of the bargain,” Jayden quipped. She replaced her deadpan expression because she wasn’t trying to start their encounter off on the wrong foot. “What’s this?” she asked gesturing to the large tupperware bowl filled with water and some meat and the assortment of vegetables and seasonings he had on his countertop.

Trevor cocked his head at her. “These are the ingredients we’re going to need for our dinner tonight.” He leaned in a little closer to her. He was guzzling that coffee down and Jayden was wishing that his lips would be attached to her instead. “But, uh, what do you mean I didn’t keep up my end of the bargain?” Jayden raised her eyes from his mouth to stare at him as she tried to determine if he genuinely wasn’t certain what she was referring to or if he was just playing dumb to mess with her. She blinked slowly and gave a small chuckle deciding that it was the former of the two.

“The day we met. You looked me dead in the eye and said that because you’re a nudist, you would be answering the door with a big cup of joe and nothing else. Obviously because we decided that I was going to be the one to bring the coffee, I figured you’d make a few adjustments. This,” she Vanna Whited to his sweater and joggers, “ was not what I had in mind,”. She reached for the water cup and attempted to quench one of her thirsts .

Trevor was caught off guard. But once his mind had processed what she’d said he tried and failed to stifle the laughter that was dominating his body. “Girl, you are somethin.” He wiped some water from his eyes, placed his cup on the counter and crossed his arms at his chest. Leaning back against the sink he asked, “So, you’re upset because I have on too many layers? I can be naked in less than thirty seconds if that’s what you want Jay. Just say the word.” There was no question. The thought was intriguing to Trevor but she needed to clarify.

“I’m not that thirsty.” Jayden said punctuating her statement with another sip from her water cup only to find that it was already empty. Trevor’s left eyebrow shot up in a manner that catechized her without speaking. She powered forward as if she hadn’t seen that, “I’m just trying to see if you’re a man of your word Jackson,”. Before the period had even been placed at the end of her sentence, the sweater was up and over his head. The joggers were next to go. Trevor watched her. He’d actually made her speechless. He closed the distance before them and continued on with his cheeky behavior.

“Is this better Miss Pierce?” He asked in a low voice as he towered over her, “Do I need to ditch the socks and the boxers next? It’s your call,”

Jayden couldn't even feign that she was unbothered. His appearance. The timbre of his voice. His proximity.They were causing her mind to cloud. She tried to give herself a little room to breath but she was pinned by the kitchen counter. There was nowhere to go but forward. So, she advanced. Staring up into his eyes, daring Trevor to make the next move.

The additional temptation wasn’t what Trevor was looking for. He stared back into her eyes again speaking without forming words.

“Show me you want this. ” his eyes called. Jayden licked her lips and fixed them into a smirk.

“I want you.”

It was game on.

Trevor grabbed her by the waist and placed her atop his kitchen counter. He left his left hand on her exposed thigh and used his right to hold her chin in place as he maintained their connection. He was aware of her everywhere and they hadn’t even done anything yet. The rise and fall of her chest. The wanting in her eyes. The way she fell into a submissive role at his first display of dominance. He was savoring this moment because he knew that whatever happened after this had the potential to be his downfall or his triumph. Hell, when it came to Jayden the possibility of both was also on the table. Quite literally. Whatever the outcome, he was ready to eat.

Trevor dove in without abandon. His right hand fell to her neck as he tasted her lips for the first time. She gasped, whether for additional breath or out of shock Trevor wasn’t sure but he used it. His tongue explored her mouth and she took this opportunity to spar back with him. Sucking his tongue and deepening the kiss she moaned. Jayden bit his bottom lip and moved to bring her left hand to grip the hand he held around her neck. She swiped something on the counter on the way up to reaching him. She jumped and bit him a little harder than she’d intended.

“Fuck!” Trevor hollered. He laughed into their broken kiss but didn’t break his distance to her. Their foreheads touched as they panted into one another’s space.

“Maybe we should..” Jayden trailed off.

“Yeah. Uh, yeah. Maybe we should wait until after dinner’s ready” he picked up glancing down to the floor to see the chili powder, salt and paprika bottles that had fallen. Thankfully none of them had opened up.

Jayden reached out to caress his cheek and guide his attention back to her. “Dinner ain’t goin nowhere. But, we can move this party from the counter to the couch,” she offered. Trevor didn’t need to be told twice. He scooped her up causing her to giggle and wrap her legs around his waist. When he sat down on the couch she adjusted herself to straddle him.

“It’s not fair that I’m over here in my drawers and you got all of this fabric between us.” he pouted. Jayden laughed rolling her eyes. “Are you gonna be a baby or are you gonna do something about it Jackson?” she challenged, “matter of fact, how is it that you’re not listening to any music right now?”

“Well, damn girl. I was waiting for you to come over so that I could be a gentleman and let you pick. But, we can forget that at this point. Hey Alexa, play “Piercing my Thoughts” playlist.”

The opening to one of Jayden’s favorite 70s songs flooded his living room. Surround sound. Jayden could not keep the smile off her face as she sat up in his lap and created a little more friction between the two of them.

“Bold. You are bold sir,” she laughed as she leaned her head down to kiss this man beneath her while Al Green serenaded their adventure.

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

Do you want to make it better?

Do you want to stay together?

If you do

Then let's please

Make some new

Memories

Jayden woke up..satiated. She continued to lay there until she gathered her thoughts. Anderson Paak and Smokey Robinson were asking her questions. She was no longer in her skirt but now a large Black Plaid Ombre Shirt that could stand to have a lot more buttons used. She sat up to fix this and searched for her handbag. Spotting it in one of the kitchen chairs, she walked over opening the bag to grab the pair of underwear she hadn’t worn when she’d shown up. Trevor may be comfortable with the nudist thing but she wasn’t at that level yet.

But you at the level to fuck within the first fifteen minutes, Jayde? Asked her subconscious. Jayden retreated from the kitchen in search of the bathroom. She probably should have made this man give her a full tour of his place before she decided to climb him. But, hey. She was here now. She walked to the right of the kitchen already knowing that the living room was to the left. She came upon the dining room and briefly admired his decor.

This man has good taste. And not just in women.

The backyard was just off of this room and when she walked over the sliding door and took a glance outside, she saw a pool, a lounging area with a tv and a fire pit and.. a dog house. It looked empty.

“I haven’t seen any dogs” she pondered aloud.

“That’s because he’s at the groomers.” answered her from directly behind where she stood and Jayden damn near jumped out of her skin . Trevor, walked up behind her snaking an arm around his flannel that was draping across her body. He watched his backyard with his chin resting on her head. “How was your nap?” he asked.

“Good. Thanks for the shirt by the way. How long was I out?”

“Barely 20 minutes. You should have drank some coffee. I guess you were tired,” she didn’t need to look at him. She could hear the pride and the smile in his voice. Jayden exhaled loudly to cover up her smile and the fact that she was heavily inhaling his scent.

“You stay with the jokes,”

“You stay feelin it too.” he countered and licked a long strip on her cheek.

“OH MY GAWD! Where’s your restroom anyway?” she feened an eye roll. She was trying not to get too caught up over the fact that she was standing in this man’s shirt with nothing else on.

“There’s one right off of the front door.” She turned around fully facing him, in all of his nude glory. She quickly looked away and made a beeline for the restroom.

When she was done freshening up, she found him in the living room again writing in a notepad as a Dan + Shay ballad caused him to drum his left hand to the rhythm of the song.

“Tequila?” she mused? “This has been piercing your thoughts?” she inquired.

“Nah. That playlist is still a work in progress. I’m still tryna figure out some stuff. You ready for the rest of the tour? I just set the oven to pre-heat.

“Sure. But we’re not gone glance over the fact that you have a whole playlist inspired by me.”

“No. We not. Plus, we’re gonna talk about how you got one for me too. I follow you on Spotify ya know.” Jayden wasn’t trying to concede to anything. So, she switched it up.

“I see we’ve returned to the joggers.” She spoke as he stood from the couch.

“I want you to be comfortable when you with me. I know that you’re not about that nudist life yet. I peeped how quickly you made your way to the bathroom. Stick around me long enough and we can change that,” he took her hand and guided her through his home. Jayden adored how often his corny humor peaked out while he told her short stories about random furniture and events that had occurred in his home. He lent her a pair of his boxers too. By the time they made it back to the kitchen they were ready to get to preppin their dinner.

“What’s on the menu for tonight Chef Jackson?”

“Shrimp Fajitas. I already deveined the shrimp before you got here,”

“Oh, okay. A true gentleman I see.”

“So, we got some bell peppers that need some slicin if you want to get started on that and I’ll worry about seasonin the meat.”

“Aye aye Cap’n.” she mock saluted. They settled themselves into their roles at the countertop. Working side by side was exactly what Jayden wanted. She could steal glances without openly gawking at the specimen of man he was.

“So, about your playlist..” he opened

“What about it?” Jayden asked.

“What do you think? About the music I mean. I saw you put damn near every song I ever released in a playlist,”

“Woww. We are out here lurkin lurkin in these streets.”

“Says the girl who downloaded my whole discography. What better way to know someone than through their taste in music? So, what’d you learn about me?”

“Well, from the way you’ve been blowin up my DMs and some of the songs I’ve heard, I’ve learned that you are definitely in a lane of your own.”

“Hmm. How’s that?” she had his interest peaked.

“I mean you’re an artist who has been in the game long enough to know the rules and you completely disregard them. Nigga,” she said shifting her body and the knife she was using to cut peppers in his direction,” while most artists are over here talking about Versace, Gucci, YSL and Louis, you are over here flexin in CROCS! CROCS, my nigga!” she cackled and glanced down at his feet in case they might manifest just because she mentioned it.

“You cute when you laugh,” he answered unafraid to openly admire her. “But, you look crazy wieldin that knife. Watch it J.”

She rolled her eyes. She had just discussed his music and he wasn’t even focused on that. Too busy complimentin her. So odd.

“Anyways, like I said you in your own lane. I can tell by the way you choose to direct your own videos as well. You have some out there concepts. Not Gaga meat dress out there. They’re simply abnormal to the culture, highly intellectual and yet it makes sense.” she continued.

“Oh, so we was peepin the videos too? How far down my rabbit hole did you go?

Shit.

“A saw a few videos. I mean you’re cool.” she shrugged. Trevor felt that she gave this off too breezily.

“Uh uh. That’s that hard Jayden. What else did you see?” he asked as he washed his hands free of the fresh lime, garlic, and seasonings he'd been working with. Jayden should have been watching him as he’d left his spot beside her. Maybe she would have seen the goofy Spongebob knowing smile he had plastered on his face as he toweled off his hands and made his way back to her from the other direction.

“I said what I said. You got some decent music videos. Moving on,” she started and that’s when he attacked. He grabbed her from behind, causing her to drop her knife and tickled her like she wasn’t in the middle of doing the task that he’d assigned her. She was squealing and thrashing. She was trying to be angry but she couldn’t help her body’s natural reaction to laugh.

‘I’m gonna pee my pants!” she screamed.

“Nope. you’re gonna pee my pants. You gone tell me the truth?” She said nothing and he refused to relent until she was real with him.

“OKAY. LEMME GO YOU BIG CHILD! I’LL TALK!” Trevor released her and waited for her to say what she was holding back.

“I may have binged watched both seasons of Grownish, Burning Sands, All American and alloftheDisneyshitthatyouhaveeverbeenin.” she threw that last part in so quickly he wasn’t certain when she’d come up for air again.

“In three weeks time? Oh shit. I got me a stalker.” Trevor joked. Jayden threw a bell pepper strip at him.

“I thought I was supposed to feel comfortable in your house.” she quipped.

“That’s exactly what I’d expect a stalker to say,” he countered back. She was still as he chortled. And then she lunged for him. She chased him around his kitchen for a good two minutes until Trevor gave up because he was laughing so much. When he came to an immediate hault, Jayden crashed directly into him.

“Ow!” she cried.

“Aye, if you were looking for a hug all you had to do was ask J” he said, enveloping her in a bear hug. She just smiled at this dude who three weeks ago she didn’t even know existed. Now, they’d swapped some music, some knowledge and saliva.

“Stop thinkin about time and just let it happen.” Trevor said.

“I don’t like how close you are to my thoughts. Please back up.”

“Look from jump street, we was feelin each other and this connection. Don’t worry about the timeline of it. I can see your wheels turning. We don’t live by anybody’s rules. Like you said, we know em and then we break em. But we still succeed,”

“That’s not quite what I said.”

“I’m paraphrasing. I don’t have the script in front of me.”

“Oh-kayyy. Can we please get this food in the oven? I’m hungry” Trevor looked her up and down. “Hakuna Matata J. We gone eat,” he said licking his lips.

The two of them got all of the food onto a sheet pan to cook and retired to the living with some wine.

“Okay, I know I’m supposed to be here to peep alllll 200 hundred of these new songs you got. But, I’m also interested in experiencing this speaker system you have here. Can we watch a Netflix show or something?”

“I always knew you had good taste for sound. Okay so I got Amazon Prime, HBO, Showtime, Hulu, Disney + and I got a lot of new stuff thanks to SAG that hasn’t even hit the theatres yet. So, you can pick your poison.”

Jayden’s eyes widened at the array of selection he was offering. “You got exclusive content? Like what?”

“Well, I got this film with Issa Rae and Lakeith-”

“Say no more. We’re watching that one sir.”

“What about the plot? Or any of the other actors?”

“I’ll figure that out along the way. Plug it in! Plug it in!” she shimmied and sing-songed. The two enjoyed their dinner and film; but, most of all they enjoyed each other’s company. Trevor was amused at the small comments and natural responses Jayden had throughout the film and her review of the song choices was right in line with his own. However, the short debate that they had afterwards recapping the movie and Jayden’s disappointment for both Issa’s performance and the less engaging storyline that her character had in comparison to her mother’s was bynfar his favorite moment of the night. She was animated through and through. None of her hardness was at the forefront and although they hadn’t seen eye to eye on every facet of the film, the communication was healthy. They genuinely listened to one another, communicated and adapted their points for their side based on new information and perspectives presented and they were able to evolve the film discussion into some deeper intellectual ones where neither felt that they were restricted by the knowledge of the other to discuss these topics earnestly

"What's on your agenda for tomorrow?' Jayden asked as she nursed her third glass of wine sitting on top of Trevor’s freshly wiped down kitchen counter. Not only did this man have good taste in women, and home decor but he was intellectual, creative and cleanly?

TUH!

"Well, I was supposed to link up with this lil thang this weekend," Jayden balked contemplating if there was enough wine in her glass to toss at him, "and we were gonna listen to music-about 200 songs," Trevor saw her release her grip on the glass and relax, “but she turned out to be a stalker and we got a lil carried away on the couch,”

“You had sex with your stalker? That’s dangerous,”

“True. But now I know that she’s really feelin me and she won’t go anywhere else.”

“Aight, Imma head out” Jayden said, finishing her wine and hopping down from the counter.

“Yeah, right.” he said following her out of the kitchen and turning off the lights. “The only place you’re heading is to sleep,” Trevor said

Jayden yawned “I already took a nap. Not really that tired.”

“You’re a bad liar,” he said. “Let me help you out Sleeping Beauty,” Before Jayden knew it he she was being bridal carried up the stairs

“Left or right?” he asked when she’d come out of the restroom.

“Which side do you sleep on? It’s your bed.”

“I gotta be appeasing stalkers. I never know what they gone do next,” Jayden climbed into the middle of the bed out of spite.

Trevor crawled in behind her and pulled her closer. “You’re really never gonna let that go are you?”

Trevor held on a little tighter. “Nah”.

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

TAG LIST: @twistedcharismaaa @mygirlrenee @glittermakesmesmile @sarcastic-sunshines @chaneajoyyy @shewrites02 @ghostfacekill-monger @raysunshine78 @shewritestheblues @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @fd-writes @eyeknowmywrites @thadelightfulone @yoyolovesbucky

#unintended #Trevor Jackson #trevor jackson x oc #shaekingspeaks

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