#They gave her an absolutely gorgeous metallic paint job

[b43b43x]

SAGFDDJASFDAFDSAFDJYAF HAVE YOU SEEN HIM? STARSCREAM, MY BELOVED AsafdasfdJGDAFD. I literally can't get my hands on him fast enough but loooook at him! Blokees already won my heart with their cute little figures. BUT THIS!? The DEtails? HIS WINGS!!!!The EXPRESSION???!!! HE'S STUNNING!!!@!

[emeren]

unorthodox - armin arlert (1)

pairing: armin arlert x fem!reader

word count: 1.8k

content warnings: none <3

chapter notes: the first chapter is a little boring, but bear with me! it just gets better from here ;)

CHAPTER SUMMARY: reader does a favor for her shy roommate, causing her to meet a cute and familiar florist who’s words have a bigger impact than intended. 

“shit!” you breathed, squinting up at the sky. the feeling of warm, sticky droplets of water began to pepper your skin, dark clouds looming above. you were in an absolutely foul mood, bringing your free hand up to shield your face. 

“what’s the matter?” your roommate’s voice rang out through the phone, oblivious to the plight you were enduring on her behalf. you glanced around, the unfamiliar street and buildings only adding to your annoyance. 

“it’s fucking raining,” you cursed, looking for an awning to stand under as the rain grew harder. it was trickling down your face, seeping through your shirt. “okay, where is this place?” 

“like i said, it should be on the corner of 53rd,” her voice was muffled, indicating that she was nervously chewing on her finger nails. you rolled your eyes, trying to read the street sign through the rain droplets flying towards the ground. “thank you so much for doing this.”

you sighed, thinking about how desperately she’d begged you to pick up and drop off the bouquet of flowers. “right, it’s no problem. corner of 53rd you said?” 

“erm, yeah? i think so,” she responded softly. you had no idea where you were, hopping off the subway at an unfamiliar stop. by the looks of it, there was no 53rd in sight. there was, however, a promising looking building on the corner. 

“sash, what’s the place called?” you prompted, trying to blink away the water dripping down your face. your roommate was utterly incapable when it came to boys, especially the one she’d quote on quote ‘fallen head over heels’ for. he’d rendered her a social mess, hardly able to form a sentence let alone drop off a bouquet of anonymous flowers. that left the job up to you, the ever dependable friend. 

sasha shuffled around on the other line, your legs carrying you towards the green building. “i think it’s like ackerman flowers or something along those lines.”

low and behold, the building had a large beige sign that promptly read out ackerman flowers in pretty writing. you thanked your lucky stars that you wouldn’t have to wander around in the pouring rain much longer, attempting to wipe your face dry before stepping inside. 

“alright, i’m here sash,” you sighed, getting ready to hang up. 

“wait!” she cried out, voice seemingly hesitant. you rolled your eyes, wanting nothing more than to be out of the rain. “could you, um - could you put a note in it?”

“a note?” you asked, dumbfounded. you stepped to the side as an older man left the shop, umbrella in hand. 

“yeah,” sasha muttered, voice growing quiet. “like a love note or something. but don’t sign my name!”

you involuntarily laughed, phone nearly slipping from your wet hand. “sorry, um, yeah. i can do that.” 

“thank you so much,” with that, you ended the call, slipping your phone into your pocket. 

the rain lightened as you eyed the outside of the building. it was painted a deep forest green, a small metal table sitting out front. there was one large window, filled with all sorts of differently colored flowers and plants. the building looked homey, or maybe that was because you were desperate to get out of the rain.

a bell dinged as you pushed the door open, greeted by a gush of warm, humid air. the small shop smelled like greenery and jasmine tea, filled to the brim with flowers. it looked like a scene from a movie, the window allowing the grey toned light to wash over the plants. you breathed out in awe, eyes scanning the dark brown desk for an employee, but were met with a fat, fluffy cat. 

it was a light yellow color, lounging comfortably on the desk as if it were a bed. you slowly made your way over to it, the creature blinking up at you bemusedly with a pair of large, glassy eyes. you smiled at it, scratching behind its ear as you waited for an employee to show up. 

“oh, i’m sorry,” you were startled from the cat by a surprised voice, eyes snapping up to land on a boy about your age wearing a dark green apron. there was something oddly familiar about him; blonde fluffy hair and light blue eyes. his features were rounded yet pronounced, an apologetic look on his face. “i didn’t hear you come in, i was in the back.” 

“that’s alright,” you smiled, trying to pinpoint exactly where you’d seen him before. his gaze followed your hand to the cat, a small grin on his face.

“i see you’ve met erwin,” he said softly, wiping his dirt covered hands on his apron. you quirked a brow, silently asking him to elaborate. who names a cat erwin? “he’s the owner’s. i think he was named after an old friend of sorts.” 

“oh, that’s such a weird name for a cat,” you scrunched your nose, looking back down to the fluffy beast. the boy nodded, leaning on the front desk.

“levi’s not very personal, so i never got a backstory,” his long fingers reached up to glide down the cat’s back, scratching right at the base of his tail. he sighed before standing again, folding his hands on the counter. you gave the cat one last pet, noticing the boy’s confused stare. “is it raining outside?” 

“huh?” you frowned, realization dawning on you as your hand came up to pat your wet head. “oh, yeah. it started pouring right when i got here.” 

the boy’s mouth formed an ‘o’, the light glinting off of his name tag. you squinted slightly, making out the name armin. odd, you thought. never heard that one before. 

“well, cat and rain aside, what can i help you with?” he asked. you couldn’t help the slight embarrassment you felt when you considered how you were dripping water onto the ground, a small puddle forming by your feet. armin didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he didn’t say anything about it. 

you let out a breath, giving him a smile. “right. i’m looking for a flower arrangement that is simple yet, uh, romantic?” you quoted sasha, watching as armin took in the information. 

he nodded his head, a contemplative look in his eyes. “i think i might have a good idea.” 

your eyes followed him as he slipped past the counter, walking up to one of the bundles of baby’s breath. you took a moment to glance him up and down, a light blue crew neck and dark jeans underneath his green apron. you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t attractive; a slim, muscular physique and broad shoulders.

armin flitted around the small space, grabbing some of this and some of that, absentmindedly muttering to himself. you leaned against the counter as he came up, a beautiful selection of flowers in his hands. 

“how about this?” he beamed, walking behind the counter to grab wrapping for the stems. you had to give it to him, the arrangement was gorgeous: flowers of various lavender and baby blue tones. it was soft and sweet, just what sasha wanted. “or, if you’d rather, i can go for the more romantic rose approach.” 

he was leaning forward on the desk, looking up at you through his brows. something about his stare made your face burn. “no, these are perfect!” 

armin chuckled lightly, his own cheeks a light shade of red. “i’m glad you think so. do you want ‘em wrapped up?” 

“yes, please,” you replied, watching as his long fingers placed the bouquet in a light brown paper wrapping. he carefully folded it, tying it off with a piece of twine. something about the situation was sweet, armin giving you a small smile as he handed you the wrapped flowers. 

it felt cliche, his hand grazing yours as you grabbed it from him. you looked down, trying to avoid eye contact as you fished through your pocket for the fifty dollar bill sasha had given you. 

suddenly you remembered her odd request, eyeing armin as he got your change. you certainly didn’t know how to write a love note, and knew that sasha would be no help. swallowing the small amount of embarrassment you felt, you decided to ask anyway. 

“hey, armin?” he looked up from the cash register, face slightly surprised. 

“how do you... oh,” he blushed, looking down briefly. “name tag. what is it?” 

you glanced at erwin the cat, swallowing your pride. “this is kinda weird, but would you be willing to write a love note? anonymous of course.” 

armin’s brows raised in shock, mouth forming a little ‘o’. you quickly tried to fix the odd question. 

“it’s just - i don’t know how to write one and i’m a little stumped,” you explained. armin gave you a small smile, grabbing a pen from the cup beside the card reader. 

“well, lucky for you, i’m majoring in literature,” he gave you a lopsided grin, quickly scribbling something down on the paper. once he was done, he leaned forward, placing it amongst the petals. “there you go. oh, and here’s your change.” 

“thanks,” you beamed, pulling the bouquet close to your chest. armin nodded, happy to be praised. “have a good day.” 

you turned to leave, giving erwin one last pet before making your way towards the door. armin gave you a small wave as you left the shop, disappearing from view. 

the rain had let up, sun peaking through the clouds. you smiled, quickly making your way towards the subway station, excited to get home. 

you’d decided not to pry when sasha’d asked you to pick up the bouquet and drop it off at niccolo’s dorm room. she’d been embarrassed, clearly way too shy to do it herself. you hadn’t asked questions; just decided to get the flowers and drop them off without further discussion. 

as you sat on the hard, plastic subway chair, you could feel that utter indifference starting to melt away. maybe it was because of the sweet florist, or maybe it was because of the way that the love note bounced tauntingly among the flowers. your fingers itched to read it, silently cursing yourself as you lifted it with your pointer and thumb. 

armin’s handwriting was neat; a soft mix of cursive and regular lettering. you glanced around the train car, making sure there was no one else there. it was paranoid, but something about it felt embarrassing nonetheless. 

after making sure there was no one else there, you looked back to the small note. your heart stopped as you read over his words. 

there’s something simple about feelings like these - they remind me of an early morning sunrise; fresh and familiar. warms my heart and soul just thinking of you. 

something about his corny words made your stomach flip, the sight of his soft face flashing in your mind. yup, you thought. i’m definitely embarrassed. 

why am i feeling this way?

<3 <3 <3

[nialledfromfics]

nothing (except for your love)

 a part two oneshot to Summer Camp

pairing: Niall/ofc

word count: 27,192

warnings: sexually explicit content; nsfw; 18+ only please

what holds me when I’m alone, what makes the tiger tame

what turns the sky from black to gold, what sends my tears up in flames.

~~

The last time she had been back in her hometown was nearly four years ago. It was the summer before she had started college, Cat spending her last four weeks as a camp counselor. It was the best fucking summer of her life. The summer she met Niall Horan. 

She had to admit that it was slightly weird being back at her parents house, in her old bedroom. Walls haphazardly covered with posters of The Strokes and Evanescence, half-burnt candles still sitting on her nightstand and her faded yellow daisy comforter neatly tucked into her bed. It looked just as it did the day she left for college, and oddly enough, that made her feel somewhat comforting. Like it was welcoming her home with open arms. At least that's what Cat told herself. Reality of the matter was, the job that she had lined up after graduating college, the same one that she had studied her butt off for, didn’t pan out like she had hoped and left her jobless and up to her eyeballs in student loans and questioning everything she had worked so hard for up until that point. 

Her parents, of course, were beyond ecstatic to have her back home, in her old neighborhood, in her old city. And Cat was happy to be back too, she missed being around her family; her mother, always the one to make sure she was eating well and not surviving off of pizza rolls and Poptarts, her dad, always there when she needed advice or just to lend an ear and her little sister, Katrina, always ready to gossip and bicker at the drop of a hat, like nothing had changed. She was happy to be home, but a part of her wondered if it was just a huge step back for her. That she could have just stayed where she was and made the best of her situation instead of, as she looked at it, crawled back to her parents for help. 

The thought left a sour taste in her mouth. 

But she figured that the only thing she could do at that point was to make the best of her current situation. She was back in the city she grew up in, back in her old room and following the next morning, hopefully back to work. 

•

It was a Friday. Cat woke up bright and early, turning over in her squeaky-framed bed to tap away at the alarm going off on her phone. She grumbled, stretching under the sheets as she rubbed away at the sleep that had consumed her eyes. The rising sun had just started to peek through her curtains and she could already smell the aroma of coffee floating through the air, readily filling her nose. It was her dad. She picked up her phone to glance at the time, needing some convincing, before forcing herself up as she knew her interview was in just a couple short hours. Hopping in the shower, Cat put on the appropriate pressed black pant suit and a pair of beige heels and made sure her hair and makeup were done accordingly before she finally made her way out to the kitchen to grab a much needed cup of that coffee. 

“Morning, Dad,” she greeted her father who had just finished packing up his lunch for the day.  

He looked over at his daughter and gave her a smile. “Good morning, doll.” Cat opened the cabinet and took out a mug, helping herself to the pot of warm coffee. “Don’t you look all dressed up today,” her father then mentioned. 

Spinning around to face him as she took a long sip of her hot beverage, Cat nodded her head. “I have that interview this morning, remember? For that company downtown, Stomon Tech? It’s at 9:30.” 

“Oh right, right,” he stumbled, “you wasted no time, did ya?” 

Cat pressed her lips in a tight line and raised her brows. “Not home for a vacation, Dad, I gotta have a job. I still have bills to pay.” 

He nodded, grabbing his lunch pail and keys off of the counter. “Alright, kiddo, well, good luck and I will see you later. I think Mom is making cacciatore for dinner tonight.” 

Smiling as her father stepped over to kiss her cheek, Cat rubbed his shoulder before he turned to walk towards the front door. “Have a good day at work, Dad.” 

•

Her wide eyes scanned up the towering glass-paneled front of the 24-story building as she sucked in a steadying breath in an effort to appease the nerves that were creeping under her skin. Interviews always made her overly anxious. Would she say the right thing, what they wanted to hear? Were her credentials enough? Did she look and dress the part? Cat let out a tiny groan, annoyed with herself as she forced her feet to move, climbing up the front steps and into the building. 

The Stomon Tech company took up two floors of the massive office building, floors 23 and 24 respectively, and the young woman followed behind a few others that were filing into one of the open elevators. She knew she had to go to the very top floor, as that was where the person she had conversed with instructed her to go, so she watched with bated breath as the numbered buttons slowly lit up one by one as they passed. It seemed like they had stopped at each floor, a good five minutes of people getting on and off, before she finally made it to where she was supposed to be. 

The doors slid open with a ding and she was immediately met with a huge reception area; gorgeous marbled-tiled floors, partitioned walls made of beveled glass and ultra-contemporary light fixtures hanging from the ceiling, all topped off with a stunningly perfect blonde sitting behind a large curved desk that was straight ahead. There was a big sign above the girl’s head that read Stomon Tech Limited, seemingly carved out of a silvery metal. The place was very modern and shiny, very clean and Cat politely smiled as she walked up to the front desk. The blonde peered up at her, a timid grin on her dark painted lips. “Welcome to Stomon Tech, how can I help you?” she asked. 

Cat cleared her throat and placed a hand on the chest-high counter in front of her. She squeezed hard around the edge, hoping it would tame the shaking in her fingers. “Hi, uh, my name is Catherine Williams and I have an interview at 9:30.” 

Tapping at the keyboard of her computer, the receptionist read over her screen before she looked back up at Cat with a tight, but friendlier, smile. “If you want to find a seat right over there,” she instructed, pointing just over Cat’s shoulder to a small reception area, “someone will be with you shortly.” 

“Thank you.” 

Holding her folder of paperwork to her chest, Cat walked over and sat down in one of the chairs, planning to use the extra time to give everything she had brought with her one last check. She had her folder spread out across her knees, quietly scanning through the papers one by one, making sure nothing was amiss. A few minutes had gone by when she heard the ding of the elevator doors open next to her, and she glanced up just as a dark haired man in a suit hurriedly walked by. She paid him no mind and looked back down at her lap, her focus on the remaining paperwork she was going over. Cat bit at her lip as a few muddled whispers between the receptionist and the man floated through the air of the lobby, and she furrowed her brows to concentrate, mouthing the words as she read over the bottom page of her resume. 

“Cat?” 

Her lips stopped moving, her fingertip halting on the paper in front of her. How did that person know her nickname? And why did his voice sound so familiar? Slowly sliding her stare up, from the expensive black oxfords to the perfectly pressed grey suit to the crisp white button up that was left slightly open at the base of his neck, Cat’s breath stalled in her throat as her eyes finally met his. As blue as the salty ocean’s waves, cool and sticking to your skin, her heart nearly skipped a solid beat when he smirked, and then it hit her. Oh my God. “Niall?” 

Narrowing her eyes, she moved her folder from her lap onto the chair as she stood up. Her mouth hanging open slightly as she dragged her stare across his features, his smile getting wider the closer she slowly shuffled over to him. His hair was dark, no longer that bleached out blond that she had remembered of him, and it was cut shorter, styled much better, delicately swept over to the side with little pieces hanging just across his forehead. It looked soft and inviting, pretty if she had to give it an adjective, and the corners of her mouth began to tug into a smile. He was older than her mind was letting her remember him, more refined and his body definitely more defined, at least what she could tell under his extremely well-fitted suit, and he had a thick dark stubble lining his jaw. 

She pushed out a huff as she stepped closer to him and before she could say hello, even mutter a coherent word, he had wrapped his arms around her body and pulled her into a hug. Cat’s eyes fluttered as she buried her nose against his shoulder, inhaling slightly as her hands gently cradled his upper back. He smelled good. Really good. Nothing like the boy sweat and sunscreen that she remembered, but fresh and clean, like a soft floral mint with a subtle hint of cedar. She rolled her eyes at herself for dissecting the man’s cologne as Niall eased himself from the embrace. “Hi, Niall,” Cat finally greeted him, tucking some hair behind her ear. 

“Shit,” Niall huffed, his blue eyes noticeably spanning down Cat’s frame. She looked older too, polished and put together in her fitted dark pantsuit. Her hair was longer than he had remembered, a natural wave adorning the strands and her skin looked softer too, well taken care of and Niall immediately found himself struggling with wanting his hands on her. She looked beautiful, more beautiful than when Niall had seen her last. And he thought that would have been hard to top. She was a hot, fiery little thing at 18 when he had first met her, but now–Niall licked across his lips as his gaze met hers again–now she was a woman, and she was absolutely drop-dead gorgeous. He stuffed his hands down into the front pockets of his trousers. “It’s been, what….four years?” 

Cat nodded. “Yeah...it’s, um, it’s been awhile.” 

“How are ya?” he asked her, his head tipping slightly as he kept his stare on hers, “I thought you lived in...Denver, was it? At least that’s where ya were going the last time we spoke.” 

“Yeah, I was living there,” she told him, “that's where I went to college. And I stayed there after I graduated but the job I had...it wasn’t-...well, it just wasn’t working out. So I moved back here, back in with my parents.” Cat scraped her teeth across her bottom lip, wanting to scream at herself for telling him that last bit. 

But he just smiled at her. “You’re parents live here?” 

“Yup, over on the Eastside,” she said, Niall nodding as Cat went on, wrinkling her brows. “Do you...work here too? I’m here for an interview.”

Niall huffed out a chuckle and bowed his head as he rubbed over his chin with his fingers. “Uh, actually,” he started, looking back up at her, “its-...this is my company.” 

Cat’s stare went big, her tongue stumbling over her words. She totally just made a fool out of herself. “Oh...oh God,” she mumbled, Niall highly amused as he peered at her with those dreamy hooded blue eyes of his. Bedroom eyes as Cat liked to remember them, and he knew it. She cleared her throat. “Um, wow, uh...are you interviewing me?” Her brows pulled in as she pointed at herself. 

He chuckled again, waving a hand in front of himself. “No, no, that would be Elena in HR. Probably would be a bit unfair if I were to interview ya. I’d be a little too biased.” 

Cat breathed out a smile and lowered her stare. Her gaze dotted across the silver-speckled tile that rested below her feet. “Yeah, I guess that would be a conflict of interest.” 

Bellowing out a hearty laugh, the reminiscent sound bounced off the glass walls around them and caused Cat to glance up at him. In that moment, with the crinkles forming by his eyes and that soft dimple pressing into his left cheek, he looked exactly like he had four years prior. It made her smile. Niall yanked his hand from his pocket to check his watch. “Shit, um, I really hate to cut this short, Cat,” he began as he met her gaze again, “unfortunately, I’ve got an important meeting startin’ in just a couple minutes, but, um…” 

Niall paused, licking over his lips as his brows pulled in. “We should meet up for drinks tonight.” 

His offer caught her off guard, and she stuttered a little before being able to pull herself together. “Uh...yeah, yeah...sure.” 

“Great,” Niall concluded, the edges of his mouth tugging up, “my secretary will get your number from your file and I’ll give ya a ring.” Cat nodded. “Good luck in there!” 

“Thank you.” 

Niall had already started to walk past the front desk and down the hallway, Cat having just made it back to the chair she had been sitting in. She reached down to pick up her folder when he stopped in his tracks. “Hey, kitty cat?”

The sound of his husky voice and that gritty accent, calling her that very thing that only he called her, that very thing she hadn’t heard in four years, caused her entire body to tense up and an instant warmth to pool in her belly. She slowly turned to face him and he cocked his head back, rolling his tongue in his mouth. “You look really fuckin’ good, by the way.” 

Giving her a wink, no other words were shared between them as he stepped away and disappeared around the corner. Cat couldn’t help but smile. That was the Niall she remembered. 

•

She received a call from Niall a few hours later, inviting her out that evening to a pretty popular bar downtown. Cat, who was already back at her house and into her sweatpants, agreed to meet him there around 9, as that was when Niall said he’d be through with work. She didn’t have much expectations for the night, and she wasn’t trying to encourage any expectations either, far be it to be honest, but she thought that for the sake of going out to a rather upscale place, that she would dress up a bit more than usual. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had dressed up, or even went out to a nice bar for that matter. 

As Cat sat on the bus, the bright neon lights of the busy city nightlife zipping past the window, she glanced down at her lap. For a moment she was questioning what she was wearing; a short blue dress that was low and tight across her chest but flowy around her hips, one that she had bought a year or so back for a friend’s wedding, and a pair of strappy black heels. Maybe, she thought, she had dressed up too much, maybe it would give him the wrong impression. The impression that she wanted anything to do with him. 

Sighing lightly under her breath, Cat turned her head and stared out of the smudged window next to her. It wasn’t that she hadn’t thought about Niall all those years, it wasn’t that she hadn’t hoped that what they had had that summer could have been more than what it was at the time, or that they could have reconnected at some point, she had very much thought of all of that, many times over the course of her first year in college. But with four years passing since then, she was older, wiser, time had changed and so had she. Her biggest fear was that Niall hadn’t. And while that little piece of her hoped to cling onto that old Niall that set her world ablaze that one amazing summer, another part of her, a bigger part, hoped that he had also grown up and matured, that he had moved on from his womanizing ways. 

Maybe that hope was too big of a stretch. 

Cat arrived at the bar a little before their intended meet time and she wondered, as she stepped through the large baroque doors, how long she would be waiting there for him to show up. There was a hostess standing just off to the side behind a sleek black marble counter and she smiled as Cat bounced her stare around the incredibly posh looking space. “Welcome, do you have a reservation?” 

Cat looked over at the hostess, smiling politely as she walked towards where she was standing. “No, no reservation...um, I’m actually meeting someone...I’m not sure if they are here yet…”

“Niall Horan?” 

Wrinkling her brows slightly, Cat pulled her face in. “Yes, actually…” she chuckled. 

The young woman smiled. “Right this way.” 

Hugging the sweater she had brought with her to her chest, Cat followed the hostess through the swanky bar, weaving around high top tables and other equally as dressed up patrons before they came to a large booth tucked in the back corner. Her eyes met his the second the hostess stepped away, and Cat just stood there by the edge of the half-moon table, quiet and trying with all her might to stop the rattling in her chest. He was the only man that had ever made her feel that way with one single glance, even when she didn’t want it. Niall was slumped back in the booth, his suit jacket now off and folded next to him on the seat and his crisp white shirt unbuttoned even further, showing off that gorgeously dark smattering of chest hair and a simple gold chain, finished with a tiny round pendant hanging from it. Cat hadn’t noticed it before, but thought that it suited him well. 

She swallowed hard as her eyes flowed down the length of his arms, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing his toned forearms and that very expensive watch that was strapped to his wrist. Cat looked back up at his face. He smirked at her, his brow rising just enough beneath those few strands of dark hair that laid across his forehead that it made the air catch like glue in her throat. All she could do was smile. “Hey,” she said, barely over a whisper. 

“Hi,” Niall responded, nodding towards his left, instructing her to join him into the crescent shaped booth. She willingly obliged and slid herself in next to him. Not even meaning to, she pulled in a deep breath as their bodies moved closer, instinctually needing to smell him. She wasn’t disappointed. “You look incredible, Cat.” 

Tucking her face down in a slightly sheepish smile, the girl combed some hair behind her ear and plunked her elbow onto the table, peering over at him. “You didn’t change,” she mentioned.

Niall peeked down with a chuckle, using his fingers to pluck at the semi-opened button up adorning his upper half. “What, ya sayin’ I don’t look nice?”

“I didn’t say that,” Cat said, biting at her lip.

Tapping his fingers on the nearly empty glass that was wrapped in his one hand, Niall raised his brows. “Would ya like a drink?” 

“Yeah,” Cat replied with a slight inhale, sitting back in the booth, “beer’s fine.” 

“Oh, ya like beer, huh?”

She shrugged. “I’m a simple girl, doesn’t take much to impress me.” 

“Shit, coulda fooled me,” he scoffed with a short chuckle. Cat just stared at him, a tiny roll of her eyes caught by Niall and he smirked. “Beer it is then.” 

Niall ordered them both a couple beers, and then a few more. Over the next hour and a half, they immersed themselves in light conversation, keeping the subjects superficial and easy flowing. They talked about what they had accomplished in school and work, where they had been living, a little friendly banter mixed in between until the effects of the alcohol had started to create a bit of tempestuous buzz in their heads. It wasn’t long before the vibe had shifted, their body language and their small talk becoming more relaxed and comfortable. Cat felt like maybe Niall had changed more than she had assumed, he was very polite and engaging, super sweet and had yet to make any crude remark. 

Though the night was still young. 

“I guess, I should thank you for the job, by the way,” Cat stated, taking a sip of her beer. Her eyes were locked on Niall’s over the rim of the frosted glass. 

He was leaned back, his one arm slung behind Cat along the back edge of the booth and he casually smirked. “Why do ya say that?” 

Cat rolled her eyes. “I know it was you, Niall. I hadn't even gotten back to my car yet, by the time they called me and offered me the job.” 

Niall brought his pint to his mouth, tipping his head back as he took a long, quiet and very telling, sip. Licking the remnants off his lips, he set the glass back onto the wooden table, twirling it around in the wet ring of built up condensation. “That was all you, Cat, must’ve had a really good interview.”

“Right…”

He laughed. “Listen, you ain’t gettin’ nothin’ outta me.”

Cat bowed her head in a giggle, and swept her hair behind her ear as she looked over at him. “Fine,” she said softly, “but thank you, really. I’ve not had the easiest time, so...it does mean a lot to me.” 

Niall’s blue eyes fanned over her face and he gave her a sincere smile, one that she knew all too well, and nodded. “Guess that means we’re gonna be hangin’ out a lot more now,” he joked as he pulled in a deep breath. 

Cat rested back into the booth, folding her hands on top of her crossed legs. “Are we gonna be work buddies?” she asked him with a playful grin. Niall glanced down, noticing her dress had ridden up a tad on her thigh. She used her fingers to straighten the material, her stare never faltering off his face and he peeked back up at her. 

The corner of his mouth tugged up slightly, and Cat felt the faintest of tickle at the back of her neck, as if someone was very delicately playing with the ends of her hair. It caused a shiver to splay across her skin. “I’m not talkin’ ‘bout work buddies,” Niall finally said, his voice low and heavy in his throat, inducing a familiar clamping of Cat’s thighs at the sound. 

She inhaled sharp and lightly shook her head. “Mmm...I figured you weren’t.” 

“So…”

Slipping her gaze from his, Cat glanced at the half drank pint that rested in front of her. She watched the tiny bubbles glide up the side of the glass. Her tummy was flipping in on itself, her heartbeat picking up as each second passed and she breathed out a sigh, hoping to create some calm within the obnoxious chaos going on inside her. “Look, Niall, I know what you’re hinting at and I just, um,..I want you to know that-...” Cat paused and scraped her teeth across her bottom lip as she slowly brought her eyes back to his. “I, um...I have a boyfriend.” 

His brows furrowed, his hand reluctantly inching back from its close proximity to her shoulder. “You do?”

Cat nodded. “Yeah, he still lives back in Denver...but, yeah.” 

Shifting himself to face her, Niall tipped his head as he lifted his arm from behind Cat and rubbed across his bearded chin. “Well, it can’t be that serious,” he mumbled.

“Why do you say that?” she asked him with wrinkled brows.

“ ‘cause he’s in Denver and you’re here,” he explained with a shrug.

“I-,” Cat paused and shook her head, her lips falling to a part, “its long distance…” 

“It won’t work out.” 

She was the one to turn her body to face him this time, her brows pulling in even more. Cat hooked her arms across her chest in slight annoyance. “You don’t know that,” she spit out to him. 

Niall scoffed lightly, dropping his stare to his lap as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Well, I do know that if you were my girl,” he began, catching her stare. His eyes looked dark, seedy in the low lights of the bar. “I would not be able to go more than one fuckin’ day without ya.” 

A heavy breath hilted in the back of her throat at his words, Cat staying quiet as Niall reached out and grabbed his pint from the table, taking a sip of his beer. Peering down, Cat slowly unfolded her arms from her chest and pressed her palms across her thighs. She chewed at a piece of dry skin from the edge of her lip before looking back up at Niall. “Maybe it won’t,” she admitted with a shrug of her shoulder, “but that’s where I’m at right now.” 

Niall shook his head, pulling a breath in between clenched teeth as he set his beer back down on the table. “It won’t. Trust me.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Fine, whatever. Enough about me. What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

Niall pushed out a snort. “No...I don’t.”

“And why not?” Cat asked him, shifting her eyes over his features. He was so handsome, it made her insides ache. His dark eyelashes, that perfect nose...his soft, pink lips. She wondered, for a single moment, what it would feel like to kiss him again. To have his mouth pressed to hers, swallowing his breath, tasting his tongue. Then she wondered what the hell was she thinking. 

Noticing her stare on his mouth, Niall tucked his lips in and cocked his head back. Her eyes landed on his once more. “Just don’t do serious relationships, ya know?”

“That sounds about right,” Cat muttered under her breath. “Can I ask you something, Niall?”

He lifted a brow in amusement. “Sure, petal, isn’t that what we’re doin’ here?”

“Yes, smart ass,” she replied sharply. Niall pushed out a laugh, taking another long sip of his beer. “Whatever happened with you and Sarah? You know the girl from camp? I mean, I’m only asking ‘cause I never went back and I’m...kinda curious.” 

Niall narrowed his eyes a bit and a smirk began to curl at the corner of his mouth. “Are ya askin’ me if I slept with her?”

She tilted her head. “In a less intrusive way, I guess...yeah.” 

With his hooded eyes darting over hers, Niall stayed quiet for a minute, almost as if he was trying to read what Cat was thinking. If only he could ever get a clear read on that girl. The one person he was never able to, and that frustrated him. She pulled in a shaky breath, moving her gaze away from his as it became almost too intimidating for her. “Do ya really wanna know?” he then asked her. 

She nodded and Niall straightened his body, leaning forward to rest his forearms across the edge of the table. His chin bumped at the peak of his shoulder as he looked back over at her. “I did end up fuckin’ her,” Niall went on, pausing to lick across his lips. “That next summer, actually.” 

Cat bit at her lip, a tiny pang settling in the pit of her stomach and she reached out to grab her beer, throwing back a big gulp. She didn’t like the way his words were making her feel. “I thought, um...I thought you didn’t like her.”

“I didn’t,” Niall spit out, lifting his shoulder, “but...you weren't there.” 

Shooting her stare back to his as she put her glass back down, she watched as a soft smile etched over his lips, nearly hidden behind the round of his shoulder. Cat cleared her throat. “I know,” she started, taking in a deep breath, “I really wanted to come back, I know I had told you the summer before I left that I would, but then I got this internship in Denver that I just couldn’t pass up, so I...just decided to stay–” 

His mouth turned down at the corners and he faintly shook his head. “It’s okay, Cat. I understand,” Niall told her, slumping back into the booth again. “It was my last summer there, and I dunno, I guess I got bored. She was shit, anyway, so it doesn’t really matter.” 

Cat’s eyes went big at his statement and she threw a hand to her mouth to stifle her laugh. Niall, on the other hand, freely belted out. The sound, still reminiscent of years before, made her laugh even harder. “I missed you that summer,” Niall then sighed out. 

“That’s surprising,” Cat chuckled. 

Niall wrinkled his brows. “Why’s that?” 

“Because I’m sure you had a swarm of girls all over you,” she explained, gesticulating as she spoke, “like you always do. Like I’m sure you still do.” 

He cocked his head back as his stare stayed on her. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t think about ya, Cat,” he said, lifting his shoulder in a shrug, “or that I didn’t miss ya.” 

Cat darted her eyes over his as an awkward quiet had settled between them. She really didn’t know what to say to that declaration of honesty coming from him, so she just picked her pint up off the table and silently guzzled back the rest of her beer. “You want another?” Niall asked her, pointing to her empty glass as she wiped across her lips. She glanced at it before looking back over at him, a smirk forming on his mouth. “Or should we just go back to my place…”

Cat chuckled as she set her glass down. “Nice.” 

“What?” he laughed. 

“I’m not going home with you.” 

Shifting his body closer, Niall inched his face in right up next to hers, her heart surging as she felt the heat of his breath on her jaw. She struggled with wanting to move away, with not wanting to move away, with letting her eyes flutter closed as the warmth of his entire body started to encapsulate every inch of her exposed skin as he ever-so-softly let the tip of his nose brush over her ear. “Are ya sure about that, love?” 

It was the slickest, naughtiest, grittiest tone of whisper that she had ever heard and it took every part of her to not jump in his lap at that very second. But she knew she couldn’t. Cat forced herself to laugh at his attempt and Niall eased back, a cocky smirk still plastered across his face. “Niall, as hard as you’re gonna try,” she told him, raising her brows to assert herself, “I’m not going to sleep with you.”

Plopping back into the seat in a defeated huff, Niall rubbed his palm over the front of his face. “Fuck...well, that ruins all me plans,” he joked as they both laughed. “How ‘bout I just take you home then?” he went on, catching her stare going wide as she peered over at him. He pinched his eyes shut in a snort upon realizing what he had said. “No-...to your home. Jesus…” 

Smiling at him, she softly giggled and nodded her head. “Yeah...that’d be nice, thanks.”

•

They had been sitting in his Audi, parked outside her house, chatting for a good five minutes. She glanced out of the passenger side window and glared slightly upon seeing the movement of a curtain in one of the living room windows. Clearing her throat, she shifted her attention back to Niall. “Thank you again for the ride,” she said to him, unbuckling her seatbelt. “Saved me from having to take the bus home at 11:30 at night.” 

“Of course, anytime,” he said, tipping his head over to the side as he slid his eyes down her body. He had been checking her out all night, Niall never being one to be shy about the fact, he knew and she knew, but he couldn’t help himself when it came to Cat. Licking over his lips, his stare slowly drifted over the suppleness of her exposed cleavage, his mind wandering back to the vivid memory of how her skin had tasted on his tongue. He swallowed hard as he shot his eyes back up to hers. “Cat, can I kiss you?” 

Cat’s fingers paused on the door handle, and she turned to look over at him. “Honestly, I’m surprised you're asking,” she chortled. 

Niall leaned his head back on the headrest, his hooded eyes narrowing slightly as he smirked. “Well, ya do have a boyfriend…”

She pushed out a chuckle. “So, the only reason you're asking to kiss me, is because I have a boyfriend?”

He flicked his brow and she rolled her eyes, gathering her sweater and small bag as she opened the car door. “You’ve really not changed a bit,” she finished. 

“So that’s a no?” 

Stepping out of the car, Cat spun around and bent over, catching his stare. “That’s a goodnight, Niall.” 

He smiled and nodded his head. “Guess, I’ll see ya at work on Monday, then.” 

“Guess you will,” she said with a soft smile, “but no special treatment, okay?” 

His mouth turned down as he lifted his head from the seat. “Can’t promise ya that,” he said, running the tip of his tongue across his lips. His eyes were darting heavily with hers, and Cat could have sworn she felt a drunken buzz quickly submerse her head. She felt dizzy every time he looked at her like that, with that intensity that only he knew how to do. She sucked in a shaky breath, attempting to settle herself. 

“Behave yourself, Niall.”

Quirking a brow, he gave her a low, thigh-clenching chuckle as he slipped his car into drive. “Sweet dreams, kitty cat.” 

Cat rolled her eyes, trying to bite away at the smile on her lips as she closed the passenger door and waved as he drove off. She watched the tail lights of his car disappear around the corner, before she let out a long, melodramatic sigh. Her mind was reeling with memories of him, how he talked to her, how he touched her, her body on fire even just being near him, but there was no way she was gonna let him in. Not again. 

Making her way into her house, Cat quietly shut the front door and looked up to see her little sister in the living room, hanging over the back of the couch as she curiously peered out of the large window. “Trina, what are you doing?” Cat asked, placing her hands on her hips. 

“Who was that?” Katrina questioned, hoping up off the couch and bounding over towards her older sister. 

Cat pulled in a breath, knowing her little sister was always the inquisitive one. And relentless about it too. “Just an old friend,” she told her, “someone I used to know a few years back.” 

Trina folded her arms over her chest. “He’s got a nice car.” 

Rolling her eyes, Cat let out a laugh and reached out to teasingly ruffle Trina’s head. “Go to bed, child,” she muttered as she walked away.

“Hey!” the young girl huffed loudly in protest, smoothing her hair back down as she watched Cat sneak her way upstairs to her bedroom. “I’m not a child!”

•

Monday came a bit quicker than Cat had hoped, and while she was eager to get back to a steady job, she was also nervous about how her first day was going to go. It was always a bit difficult for her to make friends; she was reserved but head-strong, opinionated when it mattered and learned very fast to not take anyone’s bullshit. All of those qualities sometimes made her more of a loner than an approachable person. But she was willing to try her best to be more personable, hopefully make a few acquaintances as well. 

One person she knew she’d have no trouble winning over was Niall. And that was a whole other ballgame. 

By late morning, Cat had settled in nicely to her work environment. She had her own desk and computer, a little space of her own within the huge, monochromatic space of the office located on the 23rd floor. Her co-workers, at least the ones in the cubicles surrounding her, were all very nice and had already offered to take her out to lunch as a welcome. Cat happily accepted, choosing to leave the lunch she had brought with her in the break room refrigerator for another day. 

Even though Cat knew Niall’s office was actually on the next floor up, she wasn’t really surprised to see him strutting around her floor a few times already that morning. He hadn’t come up to her yet, Cat supposed he was heeding her words about not showing her any special treatment, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t caught his eye a few times as she peered over and saw him propped up against a cubicle wall, flirting away with a few of the ladies throughout the office. He was very charismatic, and annoyingly sexy, using his charms and his wit to entice as many sweet giggles and subtle arm touches as he could get. 

Maybe that was his plan, to flaunt himself in front of Cat, showing her just how desirable he was, how easily he could get any woman he wanted. As if she didn’t already know that, or expect it. Niall would be leaned down, whispering sweet nothings in their ears with high pitched giggles spilling from their mouths as his blue eyes stuck right on Cat. She’d shake her head in a chuckle and focus back on her work, but the gears were grinding hard in her head. She wondered, just out of pure curiosity, how many of the women in the office he actually had bedded. And how many of them had felt what she felt when with him. She sucked in a deep breath, mad at herself for even entertaining the thought, because what did it matter to her? It didn’t and it shouldn’t. 

Later that afternoon, waist deep in a coding error she was attempting to fix, a notification popped up on Cat’s computer that she had received an email. It was from Niall. She peeked around the short walls of her cubicle, wary of prying eyes before opening it. 

            Cat, 

  Please come see me in my office. 

   Niall Horan

   CEO

   Stomon Tech Limited

Her heart thumped loud in her chest as she read over it a few more times, just that one single sentence causing a frenzy inside her and she figured since he was her boss, there was no getting out of it. Maybe that was another one of his plans. 

She smiled at the thought–it was textbook Niall–as she stepped off the elevator and onto the 24th floor. The blonde at the desk nodded her through and she made her way down the hallway, following it straight to his unnecessarily large office. The walls were all constructed of the same thick glass as the rest of the office, his door as well and she could clearly see Niall sitting at his sleek jet black desk, jotting something down as she reached out and gently knocked. 

His eyes raised from the papers before him to see Cat standing outside his office door. Niall pulled in a deep breath and stood up, promptly waving her in. “Hello, Cat,” he greeted her as she stepped through the door and closed it. Niall held his hand out to one of the chairs that were lined up in front of his desk and she walked over, smiling at him as she sat down. 

“Hey, Niall.”

Her eyes stayed glued to him as he stepped around his desk and stood in front of her, casually slipping his hands into his pants pockets. Cat bit at her lip, realizing he was finally close enough for her to get a good whiff of his expensive cologne and she tried to hide the fact that it was nearly intoxicating. On top of that, he had on a perfectly fitted deep blue suit, that hugged his broad shoulders and slim waist like it was a second skin. And with his dark hair, soft and swept to the side and just a hint of a scruffy beard, he looked like a dream. She hated that she couldn’t get those irritating thoughts out of her mind. 

She shakily cleared her throat and watched as he tipped his head slightly. “Just wanted to see how your first day’s been goin’,” he said, peering down at her. Niall couldn't take his eyes off of her. Off of the low cut blouse she was wearing, off the soft curl of her hair that was brushing at her shoulder, off the tiny bit of flesh showing at her thigh where her legs were crossed. She shifted slightly in her chair from the burning heat of his gaze, and it caused her skirt to ride up just a bit more. Niall’s breath caught in his throat. It was like she was tempting him, even if she didn’t know it. 

“It’s been nice,” she told him, fully aware that his stare was sliding over her lap where her skirt had ridden up and then over her breasts before finally settling on her face. She smirked. Maybe she did like flirting with him. Just a little bit. “Went out to lunch with a few coworkers. But really all I was wondering about is when you were gonna come over and say hi to me.” 

“Yeah?” he asked, raising a brow. 

“I mean, you were talking to everyone else…” 

Niall chuckled, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. His chin tipped down slightly as he kept his stare on hers. “Were you jealous?”

“No,” Cat responded, shaking her head. “I have no reason to be, I have a boyfriend, remember?”

“Ah, yes the boyfriend,” Niall said, licking across his lips as he reached up and ran a hand through the side of his hair, “I forgot about him.” 

“I bet you did,” Cat scoffed. 

“I wanna take ya out, Cat,” Niall then said, “on a date.” 

She breathed out a smile. “I can’t do that, Niall.” His eyes were darting over hers, as if he was trying to lure her in, pull her into his little trap just as he had done before. That reckless, all-consuming arousing stare, the one that shook her to the core, that literally brought her to her knees. The one that she would fall asleep thinking about almost every night. And that was all she could think about. Him. How he had made her feel, how they felt together. How he had turned her world upside down that one unforgettable summer night, and she never thought she would ever see him again. And now all she was trying to do was fight it. Fight that feeling of wanting him. She had to fight it. She had to.

“And why can’t ya?” 

Cat sucked in a sharp breath, tilting her head to her shoulder. “Well, let’s see, for one, the whole boyfriend thing and for two,” she paused, scraping her teeth over her bottom lip. Niall watched the tip of her tongue roll out across the pink-bitten skin of her lip and he swallowed hard. “...I don’t think that would look very good. I just started here and, well, ya know, favoritism and all.” 

“But ya are me favorite,” Niall bluntly stated with a smirk, quirking up his brow. 

Cat bowed her head in a bashful grin, bringing her fingers up to her lips. He really knew how to work her, that was for sure. “Okay, but I’m not trying to make enemies the first week I’m working here,” she explained, glancing back up at him, “if I went out with you, I don’t think the other ladies in the office would like me very much.” 

Niall furrowed his brow slightly and crossed his ankles as he rested his bum on the edge of his desk. “How so?”

“Niall, I’ve been here barely one day and have already heard them gossiping in the break room,” she told him, raising her brows. “And they all very much want to fuck you.” 

A loud laugh belted out past his lips, and he tipped his face down, hiding his pinched eyes behind his hand. “They’ve heard the rumors then,” he muttered between chuckles.

Cat’s brows twisted up. “What rumors are those?”

He brought his stare back to hers, slowly running his tongue over his lips. “You know first hand what those rumors are, kitty cat.” 

She could hardly breathe with his eyes on her like that, with his words floating in her head and she gently cleared her throat. “Yeah...well...they don’t know that,” she squeaked out. 

He narrowed his eyes. “You’ve not told ‘em?”

“Niall, I barely know these people,” she spit out, “why would I tell them that we slept together one time four years ago?”

Stepping towards her, Niall curled his hands around the arms of the chair and leaned down, his face sitting flush with hers. Cat kept her eyes fixed on his, her mouth falling to a faint part as his warm breath seeped over her lips. He was so close she could almost taste him on her tongue and her eyes fluttered just from the thought. A few strands of his dark hair had fallen over his eyes, and Cat’s lungs were struggling to find air as a delicious smirk slid over his mouth. “ ‘cause, baby, the way I fuck is life changin’.”

His comment made Cat gasp, before she realized his obvious intentions with the remark and she breathed out a soft giggle instead, rolling her eyes. “You’re insane,” she mumbled, Niall chuckling at her response. He leaned up and stepped away, clearing his throat as he shuffled back behind his desk. Cat watched him for a moment, never having been around someone as bluntly cocky and intriguing as Niall, and she bit at her lip as he picked up a portfolio and began flipping through some pages. “How many of those girls have you actually slept with anyway?” she asked. 

Niall’s fingers stalled on the papers and he peered at her through the tops of his hooded eyes. “What, the girls who work for me?”

“Yeah…”

“None actually.” Her stare went wide at his answer, obviously surprised by it and he pinched an eye shut. “Don’t wanna mix business and pleasure and all that, you know…”

Cat tipped her face down in a laugh. “Right,” she said, glancing back up at him, “Niall, the forever chivalrous gentleman.”

Niall snorted out a laugh and dropped the portfolio back down on his desk. He glanced over her head before catching her stare again. “Reckon ya better get back to work now, Ms. Williams, or you’ll be havin’ lots of gossip to answer to in the break room the next time you’re there.” 

Her brows wrinkled. “Huh?”

Faintly nodding towards the glass wall behind her, Cat turned around in the chair to see a few nosy busy-bodies with their full attention planted on the two of them. She was bound to be the talk of the office break room after that. Cat huffed out a laugh as she looked back over at Niall, giving him a grin. Niall watched as she stood up from her seat and smoothed down her skirt. “We’ll chat later,” he told her.

She nodded, biting off her smile as she began to step away. “Have a good rest of your day, Mr. Horan.” 

He shot her a wink. “You too, Cat.” 

•

The next two weeks were surprisingly calm. Cat had settled nicely into work, and with her colleagues, better than she was expecting, and her interactions with Niall seemed to be more on the friendly side than him trying to flirt his way into her pants. To be honest, that confused her a bit. But she was always left confused and thrown off balance when it came to Niall. She had a hard time denying how much she wanted him, how he made her feel just by looking at her, but also knew that it would be disastrous if it ever happened again. She had to remain logical at all times around him, because God knows, he was extremely tempting and she had to fight within herself to not lose all sense of control. 

He had called her a couple times, again, just friendly conversation and light banter, but other than that, Cat really hadn’t seen too much of him at work. She was aware of a huge project deadline coming up, Niall telling her of the copious amounts of boring meetings he had been partaking in and even flying out to NYC for two days on business. She thought it was oddly sweet that he was keeping her in the loop, so to speak, of his schedule and his life, and they would often find themselves texting each other well into the night, just to say goodnight. 

Cat thought it was lovely that she could have real, thoughtful and intellectual conversations with him, because up until that point, even during the summer they had met, it had only been focused on one thing: sex. Not that she minded much. A man like him wanting a woman like her, it was flattering and it made her feel good, she definitely wasn’t going to deny that. She was just happy that her and Niall had moved into a more comfortable level in their growing friendship. Cat was happy to have him as her friend. 

It was an early Saturday afternoon, Cat was at home with her family, her mother and sister in the kitchen unpacking groceries that they had just picked up for the evening. Cat was in her bedroom finishing her laundry, and had just put away some of her folded t-shirts when her cell phone rang. Bumping the dresser drawer closed with her hip, she shuffled her bare feet over to her nightstand to grab her phone, checking the name that was highlighted across the screen. Niall. 

She breathed out a smile and answered, tucking the phone between her shoulder and her cheek as she walked over to her closet and pulled out a few hangers. “Hey, you,” she greeted him as she made her way back towards her bed to hang up some of her dresses and pantsuits. 

“Hey, kitty cat, what ya doin’?”

She giggled. “Just some laundry,” she told him, “what are you doing?” 

“Uh, layin’ in me bed,” he told her, Cat noticing a softness in his voice. “Naked. Thinkin’ ‘bout you.” 

Cat rolled her eyes in a snort. “So...just a normal day then, huh?” 

A deep laugh rumbled from his end of the line. “I was wonderin’ if maybe ya wanna go out with me tonight?” he then asked, pausing for a moment to clear his throat before he continued. “Just as friends. Been so busy with work lately, we haven’t hung out and I miss seein’ ya.” 

Cat bit at her bottom lip, her cheeks running warm as she stepped back over to her closet to hook her clothes up on the rack. “I don’t know, Niall,” she hummed out, darting her stare around her room and realizing she had left her water bottle downstairs. “My mom has this whole family dinner thing planned for my Dad’s birthday tonight and it would be kinda rude for me to just bail.”

Bouncing down the stairs and into the kitchen where her mother and sister were still putting groceries away, she held the phone to her ear and snatched her water bottle off of the counter just as Katrina had opened the cupboard above her head. Trina shot her a look, and Cat stuck her tongue out at her. “Hmm...okay, well, maybe tomorrow then? Are ya free?” 

“I should be,” Cat huffed out as she refilled her bottle, her eyes studying the clear stream of water filtering into the metal flask, “what did you wanna do, anyway?” 

Niall had started to mumble something, when Cat’s mom looked over at her. “Who’s that?” she nosily asked. 

“It's that guy with the really nice car, isn’t it?” Trina interjected.

Cat’s eyes went big at her little sister as Niall continued to talk into her ear, and she set the water bottle down and smushed her hand over the bottom of the phone. “Shh!” she snapped back, shifting her eyes from her sister to her mom. “Just...a friend.” 

“Who?” 

A distinguishable quiet had settled on the end of the line before the young woman heard a faint ‘Cat?’ in a low, husky voice. She held up her finger to her mom and put her attention back to Niall. “Yeah, I’m here, sorry my mom was saying something to me. Can you hold for, like, one second?” 

“Yeah, sure.”

Blocking the end of her phone again with her palm, she playfully glared over at Trina before pushing out a sigh. “Just this guy, Niall. I met him a few years ago before I left for college and, weirdly enough, he's now my boss.” 

Trina rounded her lips. “Oooh.” 

“Your boss?” her mother repeated, opening the fridge to set a gallon of milk inside. “Well, Cat, you should invite him over for dinner tonight!” 

“Mom, it’s Dad’s birthday,” she questioned, wrinkling her brow, “And I thought it was just ‘family’ anyway...” 

The older woman waved off her daughter with a huff, turning to gather up the reusable shopping bags from the countertop. “Please, you know your father would love to meet your boss, Cat, birthday or not. And he's your friend. Invite him over.” 

Cat’s heartbeat picked up in her chest, so much so that it was like a heavy bass drum in the back of her ears steadily getting louder as her palms started to sweat. It was obnoxious. She curled her fingers tighter around her phone as she silently shot her stare between her mom and her sister, who had a very smug grin plastered over her lips. “....alright,” she gingerly sighed out, bringing her phone back up to her ear. “Niall?” 

“Yup?”

“Hey, so, um…” Cat paused, bowing her head down and anxiously scratching across the skin of her forehead, “weird question, I guess, but would you, maybe...like to come over to my house for dinner tonight?” 

“With your family?” 

“Yeah.” 

Scraping her teeth over her bottom lip, two sets of curious eyes were glued to her, waiting in as much anticipation as Cat was for Niall’s answer. She heard a short chuckle bleed into her ear before Niall pulled in a deep breath. “Sure, I’d love to.” 

•

Niall was standing on her front stoop, knocking at her door only a mere few hours later. Not really sure why she felt so nervous, her belly tying into knots as she had been getting ready and her heart thumping along with the ticking of the clock as it counted down to when he was supposed to arrive. But the second she opened the door, the second his stunning ocean blue eyes met hers, it all faded away. He looked gorgeous, as he always did; a fitted pressed dark pair of trousers topped with a silky patterned button up short sleeve shirt, it was undone slightly at the top, just enough to showcase that gold necklace that hung around his neck. Niall smiled at Cat as she invited him in. 

His eyes danced over her body as he stepped through the door, seeing her in a pair of tight jeans and slightly fitted top, she hadn’t dressed sexy, it was her Dad’s birthday after all, but Niall thought she looked amazing. He liked seeing her in a more casual look, different then how he had seen her at work. He noticed right away that her hair, usually down and sitting just below her shoulders, was pulled back into a high ponytail and for a moment, he was transported back to summer camp. Back to that first time that he saw her. Standing amongst the other counselors, listening to the director spout out the camp rules and whatnot, but even then, Niall’s full attention was on Cat. She looked absolutely beautiful, just like every time he had laid eyes on her since. 

Smiling back at him, her parents had made their way into the small foyer, eager to meet the mystery boss-friend with the super nice car. Cat introduced him, Niall having brought her father a bottle of extremely expensive Irish whiskey as a gift, and she stood off to the side as he engaged her parents in polite small talk. He was very impressive to watch–Cat finding herself sinking her teeth into her bottom lip as he freely chatted and laughed along with her parents. His charisma even snagged her old, rigid dad and his cheekiness made her mother blush a shade of pink Cat had rarely seen. 

“And this is my sister, Katrina,” she said to Niall, pointing at her little sister who had just emerged from the living room as her parents made their way back into the kitchen to finish up dinner. 

The young girl popped her gum in her mouth as she gave Niall an apathetic wave. “Everyone calls me Trina.” 

“Nice to meet ya, Trina,” Niall greeted her with a nod. 

Perching her hands on her hips, Trina narrowed her eyes as she looked over at Niall. Her stare slid down his frame and then back up before she tipped her chin in a smile. “You’re smokin’ hot.” 

“Trina! Jesus,” Cat snipped, furrowing her brows as Niall chuckled. She grabbed around Niall’s bicep and he moved his attention to her. “I’m sorry, she’s just–”

“Spitting facts?” Trina raised her brows. 

Cat glared at her sister and before she could respond with a growling rebuff, their mother called out from the kitchen. “Trina, behave yourself!” Rolling her eyes in a displeased huff, the teenager spun around on her socked heels and slumped back into the living room without another word. 

Niall licked across his lips, fighting off his inevitable snickering as he looked over at Cat. “She’s cute,” he told her, quirking a brow.

“She’s fifteen,” Cat shot back. 

“I can tell,” he snorted, “she’s still funny, though.” 

“You’re only saying that because she said you were hot.” 

“Uh, smokin’ hot,” Niall corrected, cocking his head to the side. “Would’ve rather you been the one sayin’ it though...”

Cat giggled. “Keep dreaming, Niall.” 

“Ya just keep breakin’ me heart, Cat,” Niall mumbled out, dramatically slapping a hand to his chest. “Jesus…”

Her eyes pinched shut in a laugh before she reached out and grabbed Niall’s hand. “C’mon,” she said, pulling him after her, “I’ll show you around a bit.”

After leading him through the downstairs area, Cat took Niall upstairs and into her bedroom. She didn’t really think much of it when he was trailing behind her up the stairs, their hands still loosely entangled with the heat of his skin melting into hers. It felt natural to her, so much so that she had forgotten that she was even holding his hand that whole time until they stepped into her room. “So, this is it,” Cat said, her fingers slowly sliding from his as he brushed past her and further into her bedroom. 

Niall stood near the side of her bed with his hands hooked on his hips, his stare floating across the small bedroom; from the posters still hung up on her walls to the shelves of academic trophies and awards she had acquired throughout school. Cat crossed her arms over her chest, gnawing on her lip as she kept her eyes glued to him. He had faced himself away from her, studying some old pictures of Cat and her friends from high school that were pinned up on her wall, and she let her gaze drag down the length of his frame. His shoulders were wide under the thin material of his shirt, his back broad, a lot broader than she had remembered, and his waist slim, but it was the deliciously supple curve of his ass that forced Cat to draw in a jittery breath. He had such a nice body, toned but soft in all the right places and her eyes fluttered as the memories of how he felt on top of her, pushing himself inside her, came rushing like an unstoppable flood back into her head. 

Her eyelids were pressed closed, enjoying her dirty thoughts, when Niall had unknowingly turned around to get her attention. He smiled to himself upon seeing how pretty Cat looked with her head tipped to the side and her bottom lip sucked into her mouth. He cleared his throat and her eyes popped open, met with a cocky grin. She froze. “This looks familiar…” he said to her, his brows raising as he held up a grey snapback that had been slung over the front bedpost of her bed. 

She smiled at him. “It should. You gave it to me.” 

Niall flicked the hat in his hand as he peered down at it, the very tip of his tongue poking out between his lips. “I know, I remember,” he mumbled, wiggling the hat down on his head. Her stare went glassy, widening slightly as she peered over at him, struck with how much he looked like he used to once that hat was back on him and she struggled to find a solid breath. The corner of his mouth tugged into a smirk. “Bring back any memories?” 

It did. But she wasn’t about to tell him that. 

Dropping her hands at her sides, Cat slowly stepped around the end of her bed and came up flush to him. His hooded gaze was fixated on her, holding tight to every movement, as she leaned herself in close to him, so close that Niall could feel the tiny wisps of her hot breath against the front of his neck. It made his stomach twist. His mouth parted slightly as she rose to her tiptoes, his blue eyes darting wild over hers and there was a hint of a devilish smirk pulling at her lips as she inched closer and closer, her warm body practically on top of his. 

And as quick as Cat had pressed flush to him, she just as quickly reached up and snatched the hat off of Niall’s head. She leaned past him slightly as she flung the hat back onto the bedpost where it belonged. “It’s still mine,” she claimed, raising her brow. 

His stare hadn’t left hers, it couldn’t even if he had wanted it to and Niall turned his mouth down at her, fully impressed that he had fallen for that little game she had just played. She grinned at him, pleased with herself and it made Niall’s chest ache with how cute she looked. “It’s still yours,” he assured softly, giving her one single nod. 

Cat tilted her face down, hiding the flush that had invaded her cheeks as Niall moved his eyes beside her. “So this is where you sleep?” he asked, pointing to the bed.

“Well, that sounds creepy,” she mentioned with a giggle. 

Niall laughed. “Just tryin’ to get a feel for the place.” 

“Oh, right,” she scoffed, plopping her bottom down on the side of the bed. “Yup, this is my bed. Same one since I was, like...twelve.” 

Sitting himself down next to her, Niall carded his hand through his hair as he turned his head to catch her stare. “Should I be jealous?” 

“Of what?” Cat asked, wrinkling her brows.

Niall peeked over his shoulder at her yellow daisy printed comforter. “All the people that have gotten to sleep with you in this very spot.” 

Cat rolled her eyes before meeting his stare again. “Niall, we’ve had sex before so, no, you shouldn’t be jealous and to be honest, besides that, there’s nothing to be jealous of…” 

His brows pulled in. “You tellin’ me you’ve never had sex in this bed?” 

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you,” she huffed, glancing down at her lap. “I’ve never even had a boy in this room before.” 

Niall clicked his tongue in his mouth. “So I’m your first…”

“Weird way of putting it,” Cat replied with a soft giggle, peering over at him, “but yes.” 

Leaning in towards her, the air stifled in the back of Cat’s throat as she felt his hot, silky breath spill over the slope of her neck. It made her eyes flutter, and she fought back a whimper when the tip of his nose just barely brushed along her jaw. His large palm was resting at her lower back, ever so faintly and she swallowed hard and stayed still, not daring to move an inch as Niall hungrily licked across his lips. “We can add another first to the list if ya want…” 

Slowly turning her head to look over at him, she caught his hooded stare. She struggled to find her words. “Are you, um…are you propositioning me, Mr. Horan?” Cat whispered, darting her eyes with his. Her chest was rising high with her quick, unruly breaths, her fingers curling into the thick blanket on both sides of her knees. Niall lifted his shoulder in a shrug, his brow quirking up. The darkness in his eyes was filling Cat’s belly with a fire that was proving hard to fight off, and she scraped her teeth across her bottom lip. “With my parents right downstairs?”

“Makes it even hotter,” he confidently said with a wink.

Cat let out a groan and playfully pushed him away with a nudge of her shoulder. “You’re filthy,” she told him, shaking her head as she stood up. 

Niall belted out a laugh, looking up at her. “Mmm, well, we both know that’s how ya like it.”  

With her eyes going big, her pouty lips fell to a part and Niall smirked proudly at her reaction. All she could do was let the dizziness fill her head, flustered every time he even so much as caught her stare as Niall reached out and gently grabbed her hand. Her knees wanted to crumble beneath her, her body wanting to let go as his thumb rubbed tiny circles over her skin. She slowly lifted her gaze back to his, her breaths stunted in her lungs, just as her father called them down to dinner. 

Cat squeezed her eyes closed for a split second as Niall stood up right in front of her. His intoxicating scent filled her nose and she let her gaze drift up from his chest to his blue eyes. “Saved by the bell, huh, kitty cat?” 

Pressing her lips in a line, she tipped her chin up, determined to not let him get the best of her. “It’s not like I was considering it.” 

A smug smirk tugged at the edge of Niall’s lips and he lightly placed his hand to Cat’s waist, his fingertips pushing in slightly. “Oh, baby, you were definitely considerin’ it,” he whispered, his voice low and rough in his throat. A pulsing heat coursed through her entire body, from her head to her toes, itching over her skin and pooling between her thighs. Licking across his lips, Niall quirked his brow as he quietly stepped away, slowly letting his fingertips drag down the curve of her hip. 

Watching as he sauntered out of her bedroom, Cat pushed out a heavy, choppy breath and reached up to rub across her dampened forehead. She didn’t even realize she had started to sweat, just from that short interaction and she swallowed hard before shaking her head and following him out of the room. 

She hated that he could still, without question, cause that kind of reaction in her.

•

After an uneventful, yet really good dinner followed by some delicious homemade birthday cake, Cat and Niall found themselves sitting out on the steps of her small front stoop. The sun had long set, just the street lamps casting a yellow glow along the road and the porch light shining onto their backs. Niall had his arms resting on his bent knees, sipping on a bottle of beer that Cat’s father had graciously offered him. Peering over at him, her eyes trailed the long slope of his throat as he tipped his head back to take a gulp. She pulled in a deep breath, hugging her arms tighter around her middle. 

“So,” she began, shifting her eyes back out into the dark of the street, “is owning a tech company something you always wanted to do?” 

Niall had just finished another sip of his beer and he chuckled as he licked his lips. “No, not really,” he admitted. “I mean, I knew I was gonna own a company one day, my dad owned a company, and I don’t have a business degree for nothin’, but...tech wasn’t really somethin’ I was ever super into, ya know?” He shrugged. “It is what it is, I guess.” 

Cat peeked over at him, resting her chin on the round of her shoulder. “So it was…easy for you.”

“An easy choice?” he repeated, catching her stare. “Yeah, I had the money, I had the resources.” 

Cat chuckled under her breath, shaking her head as she drifted her eyes along the chain link fence that enclosed her tiny front yard. “What?” Niall asked. 

“Nothing,” she replied, “just...crazy how shit always comes so easy for you. Wish I had a little bit of that.” 

“Shit doesn’t always come easy for me,” Niall scoffed.

Rolling her stare over to him, Cat snorted. “Oh yeah? Like what?” 

Niall licked over his lips. “You.” 

“Me?” she huffed, wrinkling her brow, “you never had to try hard in that department, Niall.” 

With his mouth falling to a part, Niall pushed out a low huff. “Are ya kiddin’ me? I’ve never had to work so hard for a second go in me life.” 

Cat groaned and reached out, snatching the beer bottle from his hands and promptly taking a sip. “You deserve a challenge once in a while.” 

Niall chuckled and leaned towards her, his eyes stuck on hers. “If you think for one second that I’m not up for it, baby, you’re bloody fuckin’ wrong…” 

Her heart nearly skipped a solid beat as she pushed out a soft chuckle. “Charming.” 

Niall threw his head back in a laugh before hoisting himself up. He turned around and stood in front of her at the bottom of the steps. Cat bit at her lip as she looked up at him, noticing a smirk pulling at his mouth as he leaned on the handrail. “I wanna take ya somewhere,” he then blurted out. 

“Like...now?” 

“No, this weekend,” Niall chuckled. 

Cat dropped her gaze to the ground under his feet and swallowed hard. “ Where do you wanna take me?” she asked, glancing back up at him. 

“I’m not tellin’ ya,” he said, raising his brows, “it’s part of the surprise. It won’t be for the whole weekend, just Saturday. It’s not too long of a drive.” 

Narrowing her eyes at him, Cat took another sip of the beer and tucked her lips into her mouth. She stayed quiet, studying his features as he turned his face slightly and peered down at her through the corners of his eyes. Niall wasn’t sure what she was thinking, or what her answer was going to be, but he was hopeful. “What do’ya say?” 

Pulling in a deep breath, Cat set the empty beer bottle down next to her. “Do I have a choice?” 

“Baby, you always have a choice,” he replied, cocking his head back slightly. 

Cat dipped her head down in a smile. “Okay, fine,” she said as she looked back at him, “but we're only going as friends. Nothing is gonna happen.” 

“Of course,” he smirked, “would ya expect anythin’ less of me, kitty cat?” 

Her brows raised. “Do you really want me to answer that?” Niall pointed a finger at her. “No.” He watched as Cat’s head softly rolled back to her shoulders in a laugh, her eyes squeezing shut and he couldn’t help but smile as the pretty sound slipped past her lips. She was perfect. “Alright then,” Niall went on as Cat caught her breath, “I’m gonna head out, but, um...thanks for havin’ me over. It was lovely. I had fun spendin’ time with you.” 

Cat chewed at her bottom lip as she darted her eyes over his, hugging her arms around her middle once again. “Yeah, it was...surprisingly nice. I really enjoyed it. Thanks for coming.” 

Fishing his car keys out of his front pocket, a tiny breath hitched in Cat’s chest as Niall leaned down and pushed a tender kiss to her cheek. “Sweet dreams, petal,” he whispered, the warmth of his lips lingering on her skin. It was one of the sweetest, softest moments she had ever experienced. And it was coming from Niall. 

Her eyes fluttered open when he stepped back, a smile on his face as he spun around and made his way to his car. Cat watched with a dreamy haze in her eyes, curiosity bounding to her fingertips and an ache befalling her chest as he hopped in his car and drove off. She sat on that top step of her stoop, head cupped in her hands and a million thoughts pouring through her mind for what seemed like ages. 

What was she getting herself into? And more importantly...after all these years, why did she still want him so bad?

•

It was hard for Cat not to think about Niall over the following week, the nonstop, and frankly, obscene cataclysm he created inside her and how confused it made her feel. It was also hard for Cat to hide how excited she was for whatever Niall had planned for that weekend. She tried telling herself that it meant nothing, he was just doing what Niall did and did well; seduce and concur and that it would be no different this time around, but the thoughts of how much she wanted to be with him, wanted to feel him, wanted to kiss him and touch him and taste him again, how much she wanted to just be with him, kept creeping into the back of her mind. 

Part of her, an incredibly hard to ignore part, didn’t care that Niall was a self-proclaimed womanizer, at least to her knowledge, and all she wanted was to have him. To let herself feel what she had always felt for him, without hesitation or worry, without a second thought. To let him care about her…love her. She knew without a doubt that Niall would treat her well, that he would be good to her, but there was always that inkling of what if. What if she let herself give into him again and he didn’t want anything more than that. What if she succumbed to those physical primal needs that itched across her skin every time he was near, and that indescribable longing in her heart she couldn’t hide from and it turned out that he didn’t feel that same way about her. What if she fell for him, really fell for him, and in the end...he didn’t want her anymore. 

That was what Cat couldn’t shake from her mind. The fear of him not feeling for her the way she knew, deep down, she really felt for him. 

Niall picked her up at her house around 3 that Saturday afternoon. Cat was beside herself; she was nervous, but excited, giddy like a teenager going out on her first date, and if anyone would have asked her why she was feeling all of those things, she really could not have given them a straight answer. Apart from the fact that it was mainly because of Niall. Being around him made her feel exuberant and alive, he made her feel sexy and alluring. He made her feel important and wanted. He made her feel 18 all over again, but more mature, more in control. And as hard as he tried, as much as he used his charms and his flirtatious ways on her, it was clear that she was the one in control this time. She was the one who was holding him like putty in her hand. And that simple fact made her feel more powerful than she had ever felt before. 

He refused to discuss where they were headed as they drove, just telling her that it wasn’t very far away, but Cat was more than eager to find out what the big surprise was. She had worried for a moment while getting ready that she was overdressed, a light breezy yellow sundress and pair of low open-toed sandals, but Niall immediately complimented her outfit as he met her at her front door and that quickly reassured her. He was also dressed quite freely with a linen short sleeve button down and a pair of fitted twill trousers, Cat smiling as she looked him over, making sure to tell him that he looked nice as well. 

The late afternoon sun was bright, strings of gold streaming in through the car windows and Cat peered over at Niall as he sat buckled in the driver's seat. Her eyes tenderly fawned down his profile, engrossed in the perfectly sharp slope of his nose and the tiny pout of his lips. His beard was grown in heavy, his dark brown hair styled softly and over to the side, and she couldn’t see his eyes underneath his sunglasses but she knew they were just as blue, just as gorgeous and dreamy as they had always been. The thought made her smile and without thinking, she reached over and gently ran her fingers through the side swept part of his hair, right over his ear. 

Niall slowly glanced over at her, a faint smirk at the corner of his mouth and Cat stared at him as she retracted her hand and rested it back into her lap. “Sorry,” she muttered, flinging her face forward as she peered down at her hands, “couldn’t...help myself.” 

A chuckle left Niall’s lips and she felt the faintest brush of his fingertips over her temple and then carding delicately through her hair. “It’s okay,” he told her. 

Her eyes flew over to his. “So you’re really not going to tell me where we’re going?” 

“Nope,” he said, shaking his head. Cat’s stare slipped down the length of his arm that was gripped onto the steering wheel. The sun’s rays glimmered across the silver metal of his watch and it made her eyes squint. “It wouldn’t be a surprise if I did that.” 

“I’m much more surprised you didn’t blindfold me,” she chuckled. 

Niall’s grip on the steering wheel tightened at her words and he shot his eyes over to her. “I can definitely do that if ya want,” he said, voice deep in his throat. 

Cat smiled, biting at her lip as she turned her head to peer out of her window. “Maybe later…” 

Fluttering his eyes under the guise of his sunglasses, Niall blew out a heavy breath and licked across his lips. He was trying so hard to control himself around Cat, to not be who she had this perception of him to be, and he folded his fingers into a fist on his thigh as he continued to drive. “Not much longer,” he said aloud. 

•

The second they turned down the tree-lined dirt road, Cat knew exactly where they were. Her eyes went wide and she leaned forward, staring up through the windshield as they passed under the old wooden sign: Camp Sparrow. It had been years since she had been back, four years to be exact, and she breathed out a smile, glancing over at Niall. He quirked his brows at her as they slowly drove down the winding lane of dirt and rocks towards the front office of the camp. “I can’t believe you,” Cat whispered, mainly to herself but Niall heard her loud and clear and he dipped his chin down in a big smile, a pink hue blushing his cheeks. 

Coming to a stop in the same exact place that Cat had watched Niall leave that very summer, the two of them climbed out of the car, Niall grabbing a cloth bag and blanket from the back seat. It was clear that the camp was no longer a functioning summer camp; the grass somewhat overgrown and the wooden buildings a bit worn down, but as Cat peered around the large area, from the numbered cabins to the old dock that jutted out into the lake from the tiny beach area, it felt like nothing had changed. Niall had planned for them to have a picnic, some light food and wine and they spent the following couple hours sprawled out on the woolen blanket in the grass, staring off into the dark muddled water watching as the sun slowly set behind the trees. It was beautiful and quiet, serene and the two of them talked and laughed and reminisced about their past summer together. Cat felt good, she felt happy and she peeked over at Niall, catching the cute lopsided smirk on his face and it made a warmth flutter in her tummy. 

Niall was just happy to see Cat happy, it made his heart pound in his chest to hear her soft laugh and see her bright smile. He knew bringing her back to that place was exactly what they needed, what he needed to show her just how he felt about her. Taking one last sip of wine as the sun had just dipped below the treeline across the lake, Niall dusted off his palms as he stood up. 

“C’mere,” he said, holding out his hand to her. Cat tipped her head back to look up at him, biting at her lip. Sliding her hand into his, Niall gently pulled her up to her feet and slowly began to lead them out towards the lake. Cat’s heart was lashing against her ribcage, heavy and fast as her fingers tightened around Niall’s. His skin was blistering hot, but felt soft pressed to her own, and she thought for a moment that she would be content to stay like that with him. But she also thought that everything that was happening, all that she was feeling was just some kind of fever dream, something that could never really be and she pulled in a jittery sigh just as their bare feet hit the cool white sand of the tiny man-made beach. 

Niall’s fingers eased away from hers and he slipped his hands in the front pockets of his pants. Cat chewed lightly at her bottom lip, unsure as to why he had let her hand go and she crossed her arms over her chest. They stood there reveling in the peaceful silence, stares drowning in the little ripples of water that floated by from the tepid breeze before she cleared her throat. There was something on her mind that she had to get out. “Niall?” she said, her voice meek and nearly carried away by the soft lapping of the water on the shore. 

“Yeah?” He had turned his face to look over at her, Cat’s gaze watching the silhouette of a bird coasting above the tree line.  

She sucked back a sharp breath, peeking down at her painted toes as they curled into the cold sand. “Why did you bring me here?” 

He remained quiet for a moment, her question hanging idle in the air as he gathered his thoughts. “I don’t know,” Niall shrugged, “I guess, I thought that maybe...bein’ here again, seein’ the lake and the cabins and shit, that it would, ya know...spark somethin’ in ya. Memories. About me. About...us.” 

Cat hastily ran her tongue over her lips as she kicked her toes in the sand. “There never really was an us, Niall,” she stated, chuckling lightly, “I mean, we flirted for a few weeks, slept together once...then went back to our normal lives. If anything, I’d say it was just...a summer fling.” 

Niall shifted his stare downwards, rolling his lips into his mouth as he nodded his head. “So I didn’t mean anythin’ to ya, then.” 

Shooting her eyes over to him, she furrowed her brow. “No, I didn’t say that–” 

“Because I know I made ya feel good,” he spit out, aggravation clear in his voice as he caught her stare, “didn’t I?” 

Cat swallowed hard. She couldn’t lie to him, not about that. “Yeah,” she said softly. 

“You liked the way I fucked ya.” 

His words, so deliberate and suggestive in their intention as they floated off his tongue, made her chest feel heavy, like a ton of bricks smashing her down as her breaths stuck thick to the back of her throat. But she still couldn’t lie to him. “Yeah…” 

Niall turned his broad shoulders as he faced her, his brow raised. “The guy you’re with now, does he fuck you like that?” He paused and licked across his lips, his chest swelling with his rapid breaths. “Does he fuck ya like he needs ya, like he can’t get enough of ya? Like he owns ya?” 

Cat’s lips parted as she struggled to find the words, any words and she gingerly shook her head. Honesty was all she could muster as she darted her stare with his. “You’re the only person who’s ever fucked me like that,” she said, her tone subdued, “who’s ever made me...feel like that…” 

“That’s what I thought,” Niall huffed out. 

She rolled her eyes at his callous attitude and pushed out a heavy breath. “You really haven’t changed, have you, Niall?” 

“Not much, kitty cat,” he lightly scoffed, “ ‘cept I’m richer now and I fuck even better.” 

His joke, if that was what he was trying to intend, made Cat sigh out loud. “And it seems like you’re even more full of yourself,” she said. 

Niall smirked at her. “You used to be into that.” 

“Yeah, well...it worked,” she snapped, moving her gaze back out to the calmness of the water. “Four years ago.” 

Niall’s eyes narrowed and he yanked his hands from his pockets, crossing his arms over his chest. Licking across his lips, his eyes studied over Cat; the light flutter of her eyelashes and tiny upturned pout of her mouth, watching as a slight breeze swept a few strands of her hair over her cheek. She reached up and tucked it behind her ear. She was so hauntingly beautiful, it made his chest ache to even look at her, but she consistently left Niall stumped. He didn’t know what to do or say around her, he didn’t know how to pursue her. How to make her want him as much as she had four years ago. As much as he wanted her. But he was determined to find out. “So tell me then, what works now?”

Cat slowly peered back over at him. “You, Niall,” she told him blankly, “just be you.” 

“This is me–”

“No,” she choked out a laugh, shaking her head, “it's not. It's not the real you. Niall, you’re sweet and caring, and sensual and fun. But this? This is you when you’ve got one thing on your mind. When all you wanna do is sleep with somebody, when you’re on the chase.” 

Cat watched his eyes narrow, listening as she went on. “And I’m not saying I don’t like when you talk dirty to me or...flirt so shamelessly and try so hard to get me into bed, I do, but the chase is over...you’ve already fucked me.” 

He cocked his head back. “And what if I wanna fuck you again?” 

“Maybe…” Cat paused and sucked in a shaky breath. His eyes fixated on hers, the intensity causing a ripple of heat to glide over her skin, tiny goosebumps shedding its path. “Maybe you just don’t need to try so hard this time.” 

Niall tipped his head back to his shoulders in a low, frustrated groan, rubbing his palms down the front of his face. Perching his hands on his hips, a dumbfounded chuckle broke under his breath as he looked back over at her. 

“What?” she questioned, wrinkling her brow. 

“I don’t even fuckin’ know anymore,” he snorted, “you make me-...fuck, you make so confused, Cat. It completely fucks with me head, ya know? I feel so different when I’m around you, I always have. And I knew from the first time I saw ya, that first day at summer camp four years ago, that I had to have ya.” 

He paused, licking across his lips. “But it’s like...I don’t even know how to act around ya,” he told her, scratching through his scruffy beard. “The things I’d normally say, what I’d normally do. I flirt with ya, I do everythin’ I can to get ya to want me but, ya just...ya don’t fall for any of me shit. I don’t know what else to do.” 

Cat’s eyes pinched shut in a soft snicker, her head rolling to her shoulder. “I do fall for your shit, Niall,” she confessed, glancing back over at him. “I have...I am.” 

His brows shot up. “You are?”

Biting at her lip, Cat tried to tame back her emerging smile. “I mean, as much as I’d like to say no, that none of your usual shit is working on me, I’m here...right now with you, Niall,” she said softly, “and...I could never lie to you about that.”

Niall gingerly nodded his head, “Okay,” he spoke up, a confidant smirk sliding over his lips, “so if that’s how ya feel, what would you say if I told you that I wanted to lay ya down right here...and fuck ya like you’ve never been fucked before...” 

A breath stalled in Cat’s throat and her eyes fluttered as she peered over the ground at their feet. “Well,” she gently mewed, “I would say that I’d rather not like to have sand in my bits while you’re fucking me, so maybe we can find a hotel nearby instead?” 

Niall took her words, as salaciously as they had left her lips, as a joke and he dropped his forehead into the cup of his hand in a rowdy laugh. Raising his eyes back to hers in a sigh, he noticed that she wasn’t laughing, or smiling along with him. Just...staring at him. His eyes narrowed as he settled himself and he swallowed hard. “You’re serious. You really want me to fuck ya, don’t ya...”

It came out more of a statement than a question in that gritty accent of his, dripping over Cat’s ears like warm honey, sticky and thick, begging to be licked. Her fingers curled into her palms, an unstoppable heat coursing through her body as she sank her teeth down into her bottom lip. She tried to smile at him, tried to conjure up the nerve to be flippant with the lewd words floating in her head, but she couldn’t even settle the uneven pounding of her heart. It was too much. He was too much. “Honestly, Niall,” she said, turning towards him, “there hasn’t been a day that’s gone by these last four years that I haven’t wanted you to fuck me again.” 

Cat barely had time to react before Niall had stepped up flush to her, cradling her face in his big hands. The blistering heat from his palms seared into her soft skin and she lightly gasped as he slowly slid the pad of his thumb over her plump bottom lip. “You don’t know how long I’ve dreamt about hearin’ those words come out of this pretty little mouth.” 

Her eyes fluttered and she swallowed hard, eager to play his game. “Should I say them again?” Cat teased. 

Niall smirked and leaned in closer, his lips just ghosting over hers. His breath, hot and silky, spilled out over her lips and she eased her hands up, splaying them at his sides. His hooded eyes darted fast with hers, a recklessness fading into the dark and she struggled to properly inhale. He was too intoxicating, too overwhelming but she wanted him. She wanted him so bad she could feel it swirling in her lower belly and taste it tingling on her tongue. And that was all it took. 

“I...want you...to fuck me…” 

A seedy growl edged from Niall’s throat at Cat’s words and she felt his body tense up under the press of her palms. His chest was heaving, rising high against hers as his lips brushed at the corner of her mouth. “Can I kiss you now?” 

Cat’s eyes fell closed at his sweetness and a hint of a smile tugged at her parted lips as she raised just a bit to her tiptoes. “Yes…please...” 

Niall pushed his mouth to hers, kissing her deep and full, sweeping his tongue into her open mouth. Cat whined out as she kissed him back, harder and with more vigor than she knew she had in her. Niall brought that out in her, that greedy hunger, a hunger she needed to feed. To feel his lips on hers, to taste him on her tongue and swallow his warm breath, she didn’t even realize just how much she had missed him, missed feeling him, until it was happening. Her fingers twisted into the material of his shirt, yanking at it as she tugged his body even closer into her. His big hands held her face, his tongue curling over hers, and Cat felt as if she was going to float away if Niall hadn’t had her tethered so taut down against him. 

The heat was indescribable, the fieriness surging between their flesh sending both into an unyielding desire that neither had thought possible. She wanted him even more than she had years before, and he wanted her more than he had ever wanted any other woman. Niall had this need inside of him, an almost feral desire that only she could tame. She was his weakness, and he lavished the power she had over him. With her hands coming up and wrapping around his strong forearms, Niall nipped at her bottom lip as they left hers, a desperate gasp of air shared between the two. His darkened eyes only met hers for a second before he had grabbed her hand in his and began leading her back into the grassy area. 

Without a word spoken, they both hurriedly gathered their things and the remnants of their picnic and headed towards Niall’s parked car. Hopping in and closing the doors, Niall leaned his upper body almost all the way over into her seat, bringing Cat into a heated kiss once more, not being able to help himself. She ran her fingers up through his soft dark hair, twisting into the tiny ends as she urged his tongue into her mouth. Struggling to catch her breath as Niall kissed over her chin and down to her neck, Cat tipped her head back as he sucked along her throat. His thick fingers were tangled in the side of her hair, his tongue slinking over her exposed collarbone before she forced herself to inch away from him, his lips popping off her flushed skin. 

She was drowning in the gaze of his heavy lidded eyes and it took all she had in her to fight off the temptation to straddle him in his seat and fuck him right then and there. Niall swallowed hard as he stared at her. “We have to wait,” she whispered, her eyes fluttering as she cupped her hand around the back of his neck and tugged him into another kiss. “Not here.” 

Nodding his head as he reluctantly eased back, Niall wiped across his mouth with the back of his hand as he settled himself into the driver’s seat. He raked his fingers through his hair, a long drawn out breath huffing past his lips before he started up the car and took off. The ride back was torture, Niall’s big hand not leaving its claimed spot on her thigh, the pads of his fingers kneading into her silky skin as their eyes shot over to one another with each passing minute. He knew he needed her; needed to touch her, taste her, fuck her. Cat could barely hold herself together, her mind reeling with the thoughts of his touch and his kisses, her body aching to have him inside her and her stare stayed hooked on him as he drove, racing through the twists and turns of the back roads. 

After about twenty minutes, Cat had noticed that they had passed a few different motels and was perplexed on why he hadn’t bothered to stop at any of them. “Niall, where are we going?”

“I’m not fuckin’ you in a motel,” he bluntly said, his eyes on the road. 

Cat’s head toppled back to the seat rest and she ran her hand over his that was still clutched to her thigh. “You were gonna fuck me by the lake,” she reminded him, raising a brow. 

Niall peeked over at her, a seriousness written over his face. “Cat, I’ve waited four years to be inside ya again, I’m not wastin’ it on some cheap ass motel.” 

A shaky breath spilled past her lips as he flicked his eyes back to the road ahead, just the bluish beam of his headlights lighting their way. Biting at her bottom lip, Cat could feel herself aching for him, just the way he looked at her, the way he spoke to her, the way his touch felt on her skin, it was all more than she could take. She needed him inside her. Slowly tugging the bottom hem of her dress up her thighs, she spread her knees and with the guide of her fingers, eased Niall’s hand down between her legs. 

The car jerked slightly as Niall glanced over to her and was instantly captivated by the seductiveness in her eyes. A rabid heat pulsed through his veins from the soft, playful look on her face. Using the press of her fingertips, Cat kept her stare on Niall as she pushed his hand harder against her. His heart was pounding in his chest as he took her lead, carefully inching the middle of her panties over to slide his fingers along her warm, wet slit. Cat’s eyes fluttered closed, her head tipping back in a shallow gasp as Niall played with her, the pads of his fingertips swirling deliciously over her swollen clit. 

Her hips rolled gently against the seat as she held his hand right where she wanted him to be, coaxing him for more and more. It wasn’t long until he had two of his thick fingers pushing inside her and a barrage of whimpers and moans poured past her parted lips. Seeing Cat like that, rocking herself against his hand, completely at his mercy and falling apart just from his fingers inside her, was the sexiest thing Niall had ever witnessed. But there was no way he was going to let her finish. He was hard as rock in his pants, throbbing with his need for her, and he continued to work her, fingering her and teasing her clit until he knew she was right there, right about to spill over that blissful edge before he yanked his hand away. 

Cat’s mouth dropped open in a shattered gasp, her body trembling from the loss of his touch as she cupped her hand between her legs. Her chest heaved as she strained to catch her breath and she peeled open her eyes to glare over at him, seeing a half smirk tugging at his lips. “I was so close,” she breathed out. 

“I know,” he told her, licking over his lips, “but you’re not allowed to come yet.” He had done it on purpose, bringing her so close and then ripping it away like she was a bad girl being punished and she huffed out an annoyed groan, clamping her thighs together to ease the vibration of her core as she turned her attention out of the passenger window. 

Niall chuckled at her reaction and adjusted himself in his pants as they continued their way back into the city.

•

They made it back to his place, the penthouse of the most luxurious condo building downtown, of course, in nearly record time. His mouth on hers as soon as the doors to the elevator slid closed behind them, her fingers cupped around the back of his neck as his hands slipped up under her dress. Cat gasped for air as his lips left hers when the elevator finally made it to his floor, opening right at his front door. She had soaked all the way through her panties by that point, and it took her a moment to gather herself as he shuffled off the elevator and over to his front door. Stepping up behind him, Cat raised to her tiptoes and slid her hands around his waist as her wet mouth attached to the side of his neck. Niall was fumbling with his keys, cursing lightly under his breath as he was more than desperate to get the girl inside his apartment. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, attempting to turn the lock. Cat giggled against his neck, pleased with his reaction and her eyes watched his fingers shake as he continued to struggle. Burying her nose into the side of his throat, his skin was tepid and salty on her tongue and she hummed faintly as her small hand ran down the front of his body. Niall choked back a breath as he felt Cat palm him on the outside of his pants. 

She smiled to herself, feeling just how swollen he was for her already as she wrapped her fingers around his length. Swallowing hard, Niall finally clicked the door open, but he froze, slowly turning his face to catch her stare. She was still feeling at him, his cock pulsing against the curve of her palm and he smirked. “You want it, don’t ya?” 

Cat pushed the tip of her tongue to her teeth, the pads of her fingers roughly tracing down the length of him. “It’s still mine.” 

“It’s still yours,” he breathed out. 

Tugging Cat in front of him by her wrist, Niall cradled her face and pushed his mouth to hers in another deep kiss, leading them through the doorway and into his place. The front door eased closed and Niall had her slammed up against it, his hips rudding into hers as his tongue swept past her lips. Cat mewed against his mouth, her body vibrating with the yearning to feel him inside her and she tightened her arms around his shoulders, pressing herself harder into him. Breaking the kiss, Cat strained to catch her breath but kept her parted lips brushing at his. Niall had his hand up under her dress again, hooking her thigh at his hip as he groped roughly at her backside. “Not here,” she whispered, eyes pinching closed in a low gasp as his fingers desperately clawed at the soft, meaty flesh. A disjointed whimper spilled out of her mouth. “Your bedroom.” 

Niall faintly chuckled and clasped his hands around her waist, easily hoisting her up. Cat threw her head back in a squeal and locked her heels around his bum. Her mouth was back on his a second later, eager to swallow his hot breath as he walked them to his bedroom. His strong arms were wrapped around her waist, his fingers digging into the thin material of her sundress at her lower back and pulling frantically at the fabric. Holding her hands around the sides of his face, Cat playfully nipped at his bottom lip and rolled her tongue into his mouth in a heated whine. The sound sent shivers down his spine.

As Niall entered the bedroom, the lights low with just the bright glow of the full moon cascading in from the large wall of windows, Cat barely had time to register her surroundings, her eyelids fluttering as Niall sauntered straight over to the end of the large bed and plopped her down onto the mattress. His eyes, now hauntingly dark, were on hers, his chest heaving under the lay of his linen shirt and Cat scraped her teeth across her bottom lip, drowning in the intoxicating heat of his stare. Only the rapid exhales of their breaths could be heard and after a few long, excruciating seconds of them just staring at one another, Cat slowly started to bring her knees up. 

Niall’s lips parted in a low, short gasp as he watched her slip her sandals off her feet and let them drop, his fingers curling into fists at his sides in an attempt to wain the need to have his hands on her. He wanted to touch her so bad, so bad he could feel her searing into his skin, burning his flesh like an unheeded firestorm, reckless in its path. But he also wanted to wait. Watch. He wanted to savor the moment with her, savor being with her and as much as he wanted to feel her tightening around him, feel her skin melting into his as she came, he knew he had to wait. Cat, on the other hand, knew exactly what she was doing. Her chest rose high, a stuttering breath itching at the back of her throat as she rolled her head to the side. With her eyes remaining focused on his, she grabbed at the hem of her dress and carefully pooled it up around her lower tummy. Her fingers danced from her sides to the front of her hips, and she watched Niall bite furiously at his bottom lip as she stuck her thumbs into the hem of her cotton panties and started to wiggle them over her bum. She couldn’t help but giggle, the sound faint and teasing, as she slid her panties down her thighs. 

Niall watched, bated breath and dark hooded eyes, as Cat let the wet, dainty fabric fall from her toe onto the ground at his feet. He swallowed hard as his stare moved from the small heap resting on the floor, back up to her face, a smirk sitting pretty on her lips. “Jesus Christ,” he breathed out, Cat raising a brow slightly at him as she spread her knees apart and slipped her hand down between her legs. Her fingertips hit her swollen clit and Cat pushed her head back in a clenched hiss, her eyelids fluttering closed. Her hips bared down into the mattress as her fingers swirled through her warm, slippery built-up wetness, her thighs shaking out of her control and her toes curling into the white duvet that laid beneath her. Whimpers flowed past her lips, as Cat played with herself right in front of Niall, teasing him, taunting him. She wanted him to want her more than he ever had. Niall strained to settle his breaths, his blue eyes swimming over her as she laid splayed out before him and it got to a point, when her two fingertips circled just right at that sensitive little nub nestled between her folds and caused a broken whine to edge from her throat that Niall couldn’t take it anymore. She was swollen, bright pink and dripping wet, just waiting for him, begging him to slide himself inside her, to fuck her and a deep grunt pushed from Niall’s chest as he leaned down and gently grabbed Cat’s hand. 

The action startled her and she popped her eyes open, staring up at him. “You’re dirty little girl, teasin’ me like that,” he growled out to her, a gasp leaving her lips as Niall brought her used fingers up to his mouth. His eyes stayed on hers, darker than she had ever seen them, as he slowly slipped her coated fingers past his lips. His tongue curled around the ends, Niall sucking the taste of her off of them before he eased them from the heat of his mouth and very slowly pulled her body up to sit. Her head toppled back to her shoulders as she peered up at him, Niall slotting himself between her spread legs that hung off the end of the bed. Cat innocently tucked her bottom lip into her mouth, staying quiet as Niall bent over and began to undress her. She inhaled sharply when Niall’s face rested against the side of hers, Cat feeling as if her skin was going to melt away from the blistering heat of him hovering over her as his fingers fumbled with the back of her dress, easing down the zipper. 

Niall could feel her trembling in anticipation, and he softly tipped his face down against the crook of her neck, pressing his mouth to her skin. “Niall…” she quietly mewed, as his tongue sucked across to her exposed shoulder. His eyes rolled back from the sound of his name spilling so sweetly past her lips as his big hands dragged across her lower back, curling around the thin material. Standing himself back up, Niall tugged her dress up over her head along with him.

“God, you’re fuckin’ beautiful,” he told her, his half-lidded eyes draping over her unclothed body. Cat pulled in a garbled breath, and she carefully reached behind her back to unhook her strapless bra, letting it fall onto the floor next to her dress. There was a single moment where 

Niall just stood there in front of her, Cat completely naked with a parade of goosebumps floating over her skin as his stare slid from her face to her breasts to her center. It was erotic and intoxicating, overwhelmingly sensual and with the wild thumping of her heart in her chest and an ache settling deep between her thighs for him, Cat hurriedly reached out and began to undo the buttons of his pants. Her gaze, now easily matching the pitch black of his own, was glued to him, seeing the tiny flush of pink invading his cheeks and the strands of dark hair falling over his forehead and into his eyes as she yanked his pants down his legs. There was a fierceness in her motions, Niall could see it in her face, feel it in her touch and he went to unbutton his own shirt before Cat hastily swatted his hands away. 

He chuckled at her eagerness, instead carding a hand up through his disheveled hair while she worked to undo each button one by one before easing the linen shirt off of his broad shoulders. Now just as naked as Cat, Niall hung his head down, watching as the girl ran her palms down the front of his body, her curious stare taking every single part of him in as her touch trailed after it. He was beautiful, stunning. The changes in his body since she had seen him last, nothing short of perfection. The soft, dark hair smattering across his toned chest, his tiny waist that was sculpted just enough that you could still sink your nails into. Her fingers gently scratched along the lines of his hips bones that led to the breathtaking landscape of his manhood; hard and thick and red-slick with his want for her. She slowly peeked back up at him, the very tip of her tongue running hungrily across her bottom lip and that was all it took for Niall to give up, clasping a hand around the back of her neck as he leaned over and hastily pushed his mouth to hers.

He crawled up onto the bed, his mouth devouring hers as he led them both further up the mattress. “I want ya so fuckin’ bad, baby,” he muttered against the delicious curl of her tongue. Cat had latched her hands up into the long strands of his hair, humming in agreement as Niall used his knee to spread her legs even more and nestle his body down between. Her head hit one of the many pillows that adorned his bed, his palm dragging from the back of her neck, over the curve of her breast to her waist and he gripped harshly at her warmed skin. A moan edged past her pouty lips as Niall eagerly rocked himself into her, his swollen cock rubbing along her slit as his lips kissed over her chin and attached to the side of her throat. 

With her eyes falling closed, Cat wrapped her arms around Niall’s broad shoulders as he used his strength to lift her hip up slightly off the bed, the angle enough to let the tip of his pulsing length sit right at her opening. Pulling in a jumbled breath, she dug her nails into the smooth skin of his upper back, her body on fire, already vibrating underneath him as she waited for him to sink himself all the way inside her. Her mind was going frantic; the heat of him nearly suffocating as she buried her nose into the crook of his shoulder and he assaulted the flesh at the side of her throat with the hot-wet of his mouth. She knew it was what she wanted, it was everything that she wanted. Him. Being with him like that, just like that. And she couldn’t take it any longer–she fucking needed him. Her thighs clamped around his hips and she rolled her bottom up, encouraging him to enter her. She wanted to feel that burning stretch that she had missed so much, that she had dreamed about for so long. She wanted to feel him buried inside her once again.

A whimper burst freely past her parted lips as his fingers tangled into the side of her hair, Niall finally easing his hips towards her as he oh-so-slowly pushed his hardened length inside her warm, wet center. His body tensed as he entered her all the way, a low groan spilling out against Cat’s sticky skin as Niall began to move inside her. Her head fell back under the guide of his hand entangled in her hair, Niall rounding his back slightly as his mouth trailed down from her neck to her collarbones to her chest, his lips pinching around her supple breast. Cat’s fingers slipped up into the back of Niall’s thick brown hair, pulling at the ends as he thrust his hips harder against her and sucked across her clammy flesh, exploring all her soft, pretty parts. The feelings were building fast in her lower tummy, dancing around like a fiery flame waiting to explode and she whined as his teeth nibbled harshly the sensitive bud of her breast. 

His lips popped off her nipple and he licked between the valley of her breasts as he leaned his upper body up. Cat’s fingers untangled from the strands of his hair as Niall rested back on his hunches, both his big hands curving down the length of her trembling body and grabbing tightly around her thighs as he continued to fuck into her. Easing her eyes open, Cat dreamily stared up at him as heated sparks quickly rushed through her entire body, shooting from the lingering taste of his breath on her tongue to the tips of her tightly curled toes. Tiny grunts were spitting past his parted lips as he fucked into her, sweat dripping along his dampened hairline and down his heaving chest. His stare was fixated between her spread legs, watching as he sunk himself into her over and over, her warmth devouring every impeccable inch of him. She felt so good around him like that, her center swollen and silky-wet, taking him so perfectly and Niall licked across his lips as he tipped his hips down and buried himself all the way inside her. 

Cat cried out from the intense sensation, his thickness stretching her tight walls as her body started to shake under the press of his big hands. Niall shot his eyes up to her face, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he diligently watched her and she gulped back a heavy breath, unruly waves of her impending orgasm creeping up from her aching core and pouring hot over her dewy skin. Clawing her fingers into the duvet at her sides, Cat caught Niall’s stare once more, the look in his eyes sending her into a reckless fit, her body needing to him to fuck her, really fuck her. It seemed so new, so different, but harnessing that same wild heat and unrestrained passion she had felt before. But as Niall continued to push himself inside her, his fingertips bleeding into the meaty flesh at the front of her trembling thighs, Cat wanted more. She needed more. 

Whining out in desperation, Cat pinched her eyes closed as she shook her head, rolling her hips harder into him. “Damn, baby,” Niall chuckled, seeing her lash out. She shuddered slightly, catching his stare again as she untangled her fingers from the soft fabric of his bed and slapped her hand down between her legs, frantically rubbing at her clit. Niall could tell her she was desperate to get off, he could feel her throbbing around him, the quivering of her body and rather than give her exactly what she so clearly wanted, instead he pulled himself nearly all the way out of her. Cat gasped from the loss of him, her brows folding in as she wildly darted her eyes with his. 

Her fingers stayed swirling at her clit as her center throbbed, and Niall just watched her reaction in amusement as he rested the tip of his cock right at her entrance. He was being spiteful, menacing, purposely teasing her at that point and Cat was struggling to catch her breath, her chest heaving as she curiously stared up at him. Her lips pursed and she bucked her hips towards him, wanting him to give her more. Raising a brow, Niall obliged, slowly pushing himself inside her again and Cat moaned, her eyes rolling back at the satisfying feeling. “Niall...,” she whimpered out again, easing her stare back to his. Niall was already looking down at her, his massive hands now wrapped around the sides of her waist as he slowly, and very precisely, rocked his hips against her. His darkened eyes were stuck to hers, watching as her lips briefly parted and she choked back a breath. 

“Fuck me like you did before.” 

It came out as a soft whisper, humming sweetly through the thick air like a cyclone attempting to drown them and Niall licked over his lips, dragging his narrowed stare over her flushed face. “Oh, ya want it like that, huh?” he said to her, cocking his head back slightly. His hips were still thrusting against hers, the intensity nearly overwhelming Cat as she gingerly nodded her head. 

“Please,” she begged under her breath, “just a little bit…” 

Cat knew what she was asking for, Niall knew what she was asking for. And he had been waiting for that exact moment. Rolling his tongue in his mouth, a delicious smirk slid over his lips as he leaned himself down on top of her and placed his mouth right at her ear. Cat’s eyes fluttered shut as Niall squeezed bearishly at her waist and rolled his hips, burying himself all the way inside her, so far it almost hurt. Bringing a hand up, he curled his fingers tight into her hair by the side of her face and held her still. “Tell me how ya want me to fuck ya,” he whispered, his streamy breath sticking to the side of her neck. 

Cat clawed down the slope of his back at his words, biting off a broken cry that had escaped her lips. He was heavy on top of her, their combined sweat pooling between their chests and she could barely breathe, but all she wanted was for him to fuck her, fuck her exactly like he had fucked her before. He was thrusting into her as he waited for her words, deep and steadily, but she wanted more. “Harder…” she gasped with a creaking swallow, “please…” 

Niall cradled his palm around the side of her face, his thumb pressing firmly into her jaw. Sliding his stare over to look at her, he kept his mouth by her ear, just barely letting the tip of his tongue slip over her earlobe. “No, kitty cat,” he teased in that deep, filthy accent of his, “tell me exactly what ya want.” 

Wrapping her hands around the back of his balmy neck, Cat brought Niall’s face flush to hers. Their gaze locked heavy, and she swallowed hard as Niall gripped her chin and brushed the tip of her nose with his own. “Tell me,” he mouthed. 

Cat huffed out a low whine as she held his stare. “Fuck me,” she breathed out, “fuck me harder. Choke me, use me.” She paused, swallowing hard as she felt the cold metal of his necklace slapping against her throat. “Make me come. Make me yours.” 

Niall raised a brow and gave her a faint nod. “Louder,” he demanded, thrusting roughly into her. She gasped against his parted mouth, the feverish, tempting action nearly knocking the air straight from her lungs. Slipping his fingers from the side of her face, Niall pried her hands from around the base of his neck and swung them up above her head, pinning both her wrists down into the pillow. Cat’s mouth dropped open as he ghosted his lips to hers again. She could taste him on her tongue, and she struggled to take in a decent breath under the press of his weight. Niall smirked, clamping harder to her wrists and she shivered from his dominant touch. “I wanna hear ya beg for it, baby…c’mon...” 

Her eyes darted languidly with his as a fiery haziness started to invade her head. “Please,” she pleaded, her voice soft as a whisper. “Niall…please, fuck me, use me...make me yours.” 

It was the last bit that was getting to Niall, that was making his heart pound uneven in his sweaty chest and his stomach tangle into knots. Hearing those words slide so richly, so intently off her tongue, it was like heaven and there was nothing else in the world that he wanted. He swallowed hard. “You wanna be mine?” 

“Yes.” 

“All mine? To do what I want with?” 

Cat lifted her chin just enough to rest her lips to his, barely nodding. “Yes...yes, please,” she breathed out, “I’m all yours.” 

Niall smirked, a devilish little smirk that sent an unparalleled rage of scorching heat pulsing over Cat’s skin before she felt his fingers drag up from their grip on her waist and tap right at her mouth. His darkened stare focused on hers as Cat anticipated his next move, gasping lightly as she felt his two fingers slip past her parted lips and push down her throat. She gagged around the stretch of his thick fingers, her eyes pinching closed before he pulled his hand away, smashing his mouth to hers. He kissed her hard, swallowing her warm spit and her rapacious whines as Cat wiggled beneath him, struggling to yank out of his strong grip. Niall chuckled at her attempt as he sucked at her tongue and held her down.

His hips went crazy; faster and harder, crashing into hers with so much force Cat swore she could see blinding lights flickering under her eyelids with each of his heavy grunts spilling down her throat. But all she could do was moan. She moaned and whimpered and took whatever it was that Niall wanted to give her. She was his. All his. And she was enjoying every single filthy little second of it. 

Pulling back from the kiss, Niall leaned up slightly, Cat’s eyes easing open as she stared up at him and with his hand still holding her wrists tightly, pressing all his weight onto them, Niall reached down and grabbed under Cat’s knee, a jumbled breath filling her lungs as Niall hooked her leg onto the broad of his shoulder and sunk himself all the way inside her. The angle was unbelievable, filling her to the brim with all his perfect swollen thickness and a cry pierced past her pouty lips as she flung her head back into the pillow. He was fucking her so deep; his strokes long and slow, hitting that sweet little spot inside Cat every time his hips met hers. Niall just watched her as he moved on top of her, watched her body shake and coil up as her nipples grew harder with each thrust. He watched beads of sweat drip along her mottled flesh, his hooded stare following the trail of them down the curves of her breasts. He watched her eyes flutter closed as his public bone smacked against her clit, sensuous moans breaking out of her bared throat and Niall pushed out a groan, dropping her leg from his shoulder as he slapped a splayed hand to her lower tummy, slowly sliding his palm up the middle of her torso. 

Cat’s mind was a fury, and she shook her head under the pitch black of her closed eyes just as she felt the heat of his touch cradle around her throat. She choked back a breath before his fingers tightened around the sides of her neck and he started to fuck into her just a bit faster, rolling his hips upwards as the tip of his cock hit right at her slippery upper wall. “Fuckin’ look at you,” she heard him grumble between panting breaths. “So fuckin’ gorgeous takin’ me like this.” 

Cat strained to whine out under the press of his hand, her body convulsing as the unstoppable crest of her orgasm was begging to rip through her. Her center was hot and pulsating, her wetness spilling out of her with every pull of his cock and she began to tremble, her chest burning with the need for air as her body quickly, and unrelentlessly, started to give into her much needed release. It was fast, sneaking up on her with a velocity of a thousand lightning bolts charging through her wasted body all at once. Niall continued to fuck into her, not letting up, the sweet whines that cracked from her pinched throat, her beautiful writhing body urging him on and Cat popped her eyes open and caught his stare just as she hit her peak, her mouth hung idle with the silence held at the tip of her tongue. Her face was bleeding red, her eyes rolling back as Niall buried himself deep inside her and unclamped his hand from her throat. 

She gasped, fully giving into her frantic orgasm as it finally over took her entire sweat-coated body. Slipping his other hand from her wrists, Niall hovered above her with both his palms pressed into the bed beside her head as he slowed his thrusts, languidly pushing inside her. Cat moaned out his name, the sound coming out soft from her dry throat and her sticky chest heaved as she struggled to find her breath. Peering up at him, she carefully brought her arms back down and wrapped her hands around his forearms that rested right next to her face. They stayed like that for a moment, all starry-eyed as they stared at one another, soaking up the feeling of Cat pulsing around him as he just barely moved his hips. 

“Fuck yes,” she breathed out, turning her face to press a tiny kiss to the inside of his wrist. It was a sweet gesture and Niall fought the racing of his heart. “You’re so good.” 

Huffing out a short chuckle at her words, Niall confidently smirked down at her and Cat couldn’t help but smile, a slight bashfulness taking over. He looked so pretty above her like that, ethereal, like a God with his brown hair sweeping into his eyes, his skin shiny and patchy red, covered in sweat. His gaze was dark and salacious, full of lust and an uncontrollable need for her. She had just had one of the best orgasms of her life, but she could already feel the heat starting to build again just from looking up at him. Niall reached over and gently brushed away some matted hair that was stuck to Cat’s forehead, a tender touch to her hot skin before he grabbed around her chin and leaned down, pushing his lips to hers. He kissed her, kissed her deep and with purpose and Cat snaked her arms around his shoulders, curling her fingers up into the back of his dampened hair. 

Inching away slightly, Niall caught her stare again. “I’m not done with you yet,” he told her, a gasp leaving her mouth as Niall shoved an arm up under the arch of her back and yanked her up from the bed. Cat tightened her arms around his shoulders as Niall rested back on his knees and eased her wrecked little body into his lap. He was still buried inside her, the quick motions of him sliding her into his lap not letting him leave the warmth of her for even a second. Niall squeezed his forearm around her lower back, holding her taunt to him as he tangled his other hand into the back of her hair. Cat’s mouth was back on his, eager to kiss him. She sucked at his tongue, nipped at his lower lip and swallowed his hot, panting breaths as he thrust his hips into hers. 

Cat felt the prickles of her next orgasm bubbling wild in her lower tummy, Niall moving faster and sloppier inside her with each minute that passed. She knew he was working himself to his own release, needing to feel that same nearly insurmountable high as Cat had just felt and she cupped her hands around his sweaty neck, whining against his tongue. She started to move with him, her hips rocking to meet his and Niall could feel this change in her, feel her center starting to clench up around him, swollen and warm and he dug his fingertips into the side of her waist, his grip tangling tighter into her hair as he gently tugged her head back. Cat let out a curdled cry as her head fell to her shoulders, her eyes pinching shut and her nails scratching helplessly at his scalp. Niall pushed his wet-hot mouth to her neck, slinking his tongue over the hollow of her throat as he bit hard at the soft skin. Cat sucked back a jilted breath at the feeling, her body starting to tremble and shake against him with each perfect meet of their hips. She was already close again, so fucking close, the fire igniting in her belly and swarming like a fuse throughout her and she rocked harder against him, her arms curling tighter around his shoulders. 

His grunts grew more desperate as his lips travelled over her sticky skin, lapping up the beads of sweat that were painted across her naked body. He sucked along the span of her shoulder, his grown-in beard roughing her tender flesh as the scent of his body heat, thick and musty with arousal, seeped into her nose. He held her tighter as she attempted to rub herself against him, and it was so tight Cat almost couldn’t breathe and she brought her face down, moving her arms to hug around his neck. “Fuck...f-fuck,” Niall moaned out in his gruff voice, his thrusts becoming even rougher. Cat squeezed her eyes closed and buried her face down against his broad shoulder as Niall’s mouth hung open right at the slope of her neck. Curling his fingers into the thick of her hair, Cat whined out as her body started to shake, that familiar heat surging over her skin as the waves of her impending release teetered right at the brink, just teasing her to spill over. She struggled to breathe, struggled to swallow back the spitting cries that were being forced past her lips and just before he was able to coerce her begging body over that blissful edge once more, Niall stiffened inside her. His muscular frame tensed within her hold, his sticky body coiling up and gripping tight to her as he finally reached his well-deserved high. 

A low growl of her name spilled from his mouth onto the side of her neck and Cat gasped as she felt him come inside her. She could feel the warm streams of his load filling her up, thick and slippery, something she had never experienced before and her eyes fluttered as she slowly started to roll against him, wanting him to completely empty himself inside her. There was something about it, something about feeling his sticky, hot cum inside her that turned her on even more. It was filthy, obscene. So fucking sexy. And she couldn’t get enough of him. 

“Holy shit,” Niall barely groaned out, jerking his hips as he finished, “shit...fuck, baby…” His big hand was cupped at the back of her head and he held her quivering body against his, sweetly kissing along the span of her shoulder. He was being soft with her, but Cat wasn’t done. She whimpered at him, rolling her hips against his that had all but stopped moving at that point. Lifting her lips to his ear, Cat swallowed hard as she gripped her hands at his sweat-coated upper back. “Stay inside me,” she breathed out, “please…” 

Her body wriggled against him, throbbing around his spent cock as tiny desperate whines purged from her throat. Niall knew she wasn’t done. He knew, without a doubt, she wanted more. 

Lifting his mouth from the crook of her neck, Niall brought her face to his. Her eyes, half-lidded and glassy, locked on his and Niall drifted his stare over her delicate features, his hot mouth hovering at hers. Cat grinded against him. “You wanna come again, don’t ya?” he teased as the young woman faintly nodded. 

Niall smiled and pressed his lips to hers. Before Cat could even properly kiss him back, he pulled away and had her tossed to the mattress on her stomach. It happened so quick that Cat barely had time to even process what was happening, the side of her face smashed into the bed as Niall fumbled around behind her, roughly grabbing at her hips with his wide palms and lifting her bottom up just a bit. Cat sharply inhaled, twisting her fingers into the blankets beneath her, preparing for what he was about to do to her. A broken cry left her lips, laced with soft desperation as her center ached with the need to feel him inside her, to have him make her come all over again. She could feel his warm load seeping from her opening, dripping down her slit and just as Cat went to turn her head to peer back at him, the unmistakable wet-hot of his mouth cupped around her heat. 

A gasp shuddered past her parted lips, soaking into the white duvet as Niall slipped his tongue along her folds, eating hungrily at her. Her body shook as he curled his lips around her clit, sucking hard as his fingertips dug into the supple flesh of her bottom. He held her still and spread her open, licking and sucking and tasting at her, Cat rocking her bum back against him as she wordlessly pleaded for more. Her tummy sunk in, her eyes fluttering closed as she started to feel the wicked pangs of her release itching across her clammy skin once more. Niall hummed as he slurped over her swollen folds, sinking his tongue down inside her. Twisting her head forward to bury her face down into the duvet, Niall had just moved his mouth to suckle her clit before she felt the warmth of his mouth dissipate and the delicious stretch of his cock push inside her once again. 

She cried out, fisting rough at the blankets as the weight of Niall’s sticky body consumed her. He was back on top of her, his hips slowly rolling into hers as he began to fuck into her. She almost couldn’t fixate on anything she was feeling; him, his thick body on top of her, how he felt so fucking good inside her, his hot breath panting out onto the back of her damp neck. It was all too much, overwhelming and out-of-this-world intense, and before she knew it, Niall had sucked a trail up the side of her throat. “This what ya remember, huh? This what ya want?” he asked her, his voice gravelly in her ear. “Me fuckin’ ya just like this?” 

Cat moaned at his lewd words, the memories of being pinned down on that cold, hard desk as Niall roughly fucked into her from behind, gagging her with his thick fingers and making her come around him, instantly sent a wildfire soaring through her body. She writhed uncontrollably under him, gasping back needed breaths as he continued to move on top of her. God, she needed to come again so bad. His thrusts picked up, feeling the way she was reacting to him, and Niall reached up and wrapped her hair around his fist, easing her head up off the bed. 

Cat’s mouth dropped open in shocked silence, her eyes fluttering as Niall slapped his hips against her bottom, fucking into her even rougher than before. He felt so fucking good and it made her squirm. “This is how ya want it, baby?” he growled out to her, sucking feverishly along her neck. 

“Yes...God, yes…” she choked out. 

“Like bein’ me dirty little girl, don’t ya? Takin’ my big cock so good…”

Another seedy moan edged from her throat and the sound made Niall smirk against her skin. “I wanna come,” Cat begged, barely a whisper between her heavy gasps, “please Niall...I wanna come so bad.” 

Niall swallowed hard at the sweet, pleading sound of her voice, something about hearing her beg him, hearing her wanting him so bad, wanting him to make her come, it made him weak. He was so goddamn weak for her. “Fuck, kitty cat,” he moaned, settling his mouth back at her neck as he took a hand and shoved it under her tummy. 

His hips slowed a bit, fucking into her with long, deep thrusts as his hand slipped down between her spread legs. Cat cried out as she felt the pads of his two fingers start to circle at her clit. Niall had eased her face back down, hovering over her as his puffy lips stayed resting at the corner of her open mouth. She breathed heavy as he continued to fuck her, slow and steady, the tip of his hardened length hitting perfectly inside her swollen center as his fingertips played with her sensitive little nub. Her mind was frazzled, wicked and drenched with the sensations that were quickly consuming her entire fucked-out body and it was when Niall softly brushed some strands of her hair away from the side of her face, tiny kisses being planted to the crease of her mouth, that she knew something was different. His big hand was cradling her head as he pushed inside her, his hot breath mixing with her own as they perfectly moved together and a smile started to tug at the corner of her lips. 

His eyes were stuck to her as he rested his forehead at her temple. “You’re so beautiful,” he breathed out, “so fuckin’ beautiful. God, baby, I-...” he paused, swallowing hard as he gathered his breath. Cat faintly moaned as he buried himself deep inside her. She was right there, so close fucking close to coming she could taste it on the tip of her tongue, her center clenching hard around him. But all she wanted in that split second was to hear his voice. “I missed bein’ inside ya so much.”  

Unfolding her fist from the white blanket, Cat reached behind her and curled her fingers into the back of his hair. “Couldn’t stop thinkin’ bout ya, ‘bout fuckin’ ya just like this,” Niall went on, “all I wanted...was to be with ya again, feel ya around me, sinkin’ into ya, baby.” 

A low whimper poured from her lips and Cat rocked her body back into him, the last little thing she needed before she felt her body lose all control. She slowly writhed under him, under the heat of his thick, strong body, her toes curling and her shaken breaths stalled in her risen chest as he continued to fuck into her, riding her through her intoxicating, mind-numbing high. Broken moans bounced off his stark walls and filled their ears as Niall kept his stare on her, urging her through with the steady, skilled rocks of his hips. His fingers moved between her folds, the warm wetness of her orgasm slick as it spilled out around him and onto his hand. Cat called out his name, over and over, as she succumbed to him, to all that he was giving her, her desired release long and nearly paralyzing, the intense heat crawling over her wrecked body and biting at her flushed skin as she trembled uncontrollably against him. She had come hard, harder and more thoroughly than she had before and she didn’t even know that was possible. And with the mind-blowing sensation of her letting go around him again, it was only a fraction of a moment before Niall was hitting his own second release, much more soft and subdued that time. Cat couldn’t help but smile at the intimate feeling. 

“Oh my God,” she finally mumbled, both having barely come down. Cat strained to find her full breaths as Niall eased his hips to a stop. “I-...I’ve never felt like that before. With anyone.” 

Her eyes were still closed, Cat reeling in the over-heightened feelings of her powerful orgasm as Niall chuckled against her. He pressed his lips to the side of hers. “Good,” he said, slowly pulling his hand out from under her. The loss of his touch between her legs made Cat whine, and Niall smiled down at her. “I love makin’ ya feel like that.” 

Niall stayed resting inside her for a few minutes, sweetly kissing along her jaw and shoulder as she continued to come down, her sticky body relishing in the cool air of his bedroom. Contented hums slipped past her lips, a blissful smile following as she finally was able to catch her breath. She had never felt so satisfied, so purely whole, before in her entire life, he had outdone himself and they were both blatantly aware of that fact. Niall, on the other hand, had never felt with anyone the way he was feeling with Cat in that very moment. He had never felt happy, so fulfilled, so...absolutely in love. Twisting her fingers into his damp hair, Cat lifted her face from the mattress just enough so she could fully kiss him. She needed to kiss him. She needed to taste his breath on her tongue and feel the beautiful heat of his mouth. Niall eagerly kissed her back, and it wasn’t long before he had slipped himself from her and turned her body over in his arms. Curling up in his bed, they tenderly kissed until their lips were sore and their naked bodies nearly listless. They stay snuggled together under the warm covers, a sated, simple quiet filling the room between the last few soft kisses until they both drifted off to sleep. 

•

Sometime in the middle of the night, Cat awoke. Her eyes blinked open, struggling to adjust to the dark room and she wrinkled her brow, unsure as to where she was before everything came flooding back to her. Peeking over to her left, she caught a glimpse of Niall. He was laying on his back, perfectly still as he slept, his chest rising with the soft ebb and flow of his steady breaths. He looked so pretty, his dark brown hair all disheveled and swept across his forehead as his tiny eyelashes rested daintily on his cheeks. But there was nothing dainty about that man. Sweet in his own ways, soft in others, but he was rough and dirty, and eager and good, and as the thoughts of just a few hours prior started to swim around in her head, Cat suddenly felt the soreness that had settled between her legs. Niall had fucked her, really fucked her, fucked her better than she had ever had before and the girl chewed at her lip as her stare lazily dragged over him, the only thought left in her mind was what was going to happen between them now.

Deciding that she needed some water, her mouth unnaturally dry–she assumed from the endless moans and many frantic kisses shared–Cat very carefully untangled her naked body from his and out from under the covers. She sat at the edge of the bed for a moment, finally being able to take in the sight of the room she had been holed up in all night. Her stare didn’t know what to focus on first; the expansiveness of the space with its decadent art pieces adorning one of the walls, the large expanding floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the cityscape or the enormous bed that she had just been laying in. Cat twisted around, peeking back at Niall. He hadn’t moved a single muscle. And still looked just as cute, just as breathtakingly gorgeous as ever. She smiled down into the round of her shoulder and a slight chill broke out over her bare skin. 

Scraping her teeth over her dry bottom lip, Cat eased up from the bed and peered around the floor, grabbing the first thing she saw to cover herself up with. It was Niall’s linen button up. She slid her arms into the shirt as she quietly stepped over to the window, just letting the thin material hang open down her body. It was a bit short, just barely covering her bum, but it did the trick for the time being and she tipped her head to the side as she flicked her wide, curious stare out across the city’s rooftops. It was beautiful, the bright flickering neon lights, the wiz of the cars zooming through the dark streets and Cat stood there, arms crossed over her front for a few more minutes, soaking up the beautiful scene in front of her before tip-toeing out of the bedroom. 

She didn’t really remember how they had gotten back to his bedroom; her attention, and her mouth, stuck to Niall on the way in, but it wasn’t hard to find her way back out into the open floor plan of his two-story condo. If she had thought his bedroom was spacious, she didn’t even know what to do the second her bare feet hit the threshold of his main living space. Another enormous wall of windows overlooking the city, the space decorated just how she had imagined it would be, much like Niall’s office. Modern and sleek, incredibly expensive, with only a few punches of color amongst the dark tonal colors, it was unreal. There was no questioning that Niall was a wealthy man. 

“Holy shit,” Cat breathed out to herself with a short giggle, tucking some unruly hair behind her ear. She stepped forward, making her way through the open living room and into the kitchen. There were a few lights on, just really soft dim lighting under the cabinets that she assumed accented the atmosphere of his home, so she was able to easily find her way to the fridge. Niall had a few glass bottles of water resting along the shelf in the door and Cat eagerly helped herself to one. Unscrewing the metal cap, Cat shuffled over to the long kitchen island, facing out towards his living room as she put the rim of the bottle to her lips and took a nice, slow sip. Her eyes fluttered closed as she tilted her head back, letting the cold refreshing liquid slip down her dry throat. She had never tasted water that good before. 

The girl must have lost herself in the water for a moment, as it was only when she heard the faint clearing of a throat that she shot her eyes open, bringing her chin back down. It was Niall. Standing just at the threshold of the kitchen, in nothing but a tiny pair of white boxers. Licking her lips, Cat smiled at him, her stare noticeably dragging over the exquisitely intricate lines of his toned body. He was by far the most gorgeous man she had ever laid eyes on. And she was pretty sure he knew it too. 

“Thirsty?” Niall commented. 

Cat wrinkled her brows and flicked her gaze back up to his. “Huh?” He nodded towards the bottle of water in her hand as he stepped over to the kitchen counter, pulling out a stool to sit down. Cat peered down at the bottle that was gripped in her hand. “Oh...yeah,” she giggled in response.

Niall leaned in, resting his forearms on the edge of the counter. His tired, half lidded eyes stayed on hers, those hypnotizingly ocean blue eyes that Cat just couldn’t seem to get away from. As much as she knew she should. She quickly took another sip of water. Niall gaffed and tipped his head down, running his fingers through his mess of hair. “Cat, can I be honest?” he then blurted out. 

Swallowing down the frigid water that was held in her mouth, Cat faintly nodded as she set the bottle down on the counter in front of her. His eyes darted heavy with hers and for a moment, Cat almost couldn’t breathe. She didn’t like that feeling. Not when she had an idea what was coming next. “I wanna be with you,” he said bluntly. 

She dropped her stare, mainly because the intensity of his was eating at her skin, and tucked some fallen hair behind her ear. “I...can’t,” she muttered, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip as she annoyingly picked at the paper label of her bottled water. 

“Why?”

“Because, I-…we shouldn’t,” she said. 

Niall shook his head. “Listen, if it's this boyfriend of yours,” he started, Cat catching his stare again, “ya know it’s not real, it can’t be. And ya know I can fuck ya better, you know I can treat ya better. Better than anyone.” 

Rolling her eyes, Cat huffed out a breath as she rubbed over her forehead. She knew it had gone on long enough, and she had no choice but to tell him. She couldn’t keep lying to him. It was tearing her up inside. “Look, Niall…” Cat paused, already frustrated and needing to collect her thoughts before continuing, “I’ve got to tell you something and I don’t want you to get mad at me.” 

He narrowed his stare at her as he listened, not sure where the conversation was headed. “I, um…” Cat fiddled with a button on his shirt, tugging the airy material tighter around her chest, hoping it was covering her bare breasts. “I don’t really have a boyfriend.” 

“What?” he scoffed.

Cat flicked her eyes up to his, she could see the confusion pulling at his face. His lips dropping open, his eyes scouring over hers, like he was desperately searching for answers. It nearly broke her heart. “I was-, fuck, I don’t even know now why I did it,” she started, plopping her elbows down to the countertop as she covered her face with her hands. “I guess, I said that hoping it would keep a distance between us. To...keep myself from...falling for you.” 

Niall’s brows drew in further. He wasn’t even mad that she had lied, just more than confused at that point. He never knew what was going on inside that girl’s head, and it frustrated the hell out of him. “Cat, why would ya wanna do that?” 

“Are you kidding me?” she shot back, scrunching her face in. “You told me yourself that you don’t do serious girlfriends. You’ve slept with half the city, Niall. I know you. I know how you are and I know that I was to ever get involved with you, really involved... it wouldn’t end well for me.” 

Niall darted his stare over hers for a second as he stayed quiet before he pushed out a long sigh, Cat watching as he hung his head down. She sucked in a deep breath, instantly feeling horrible for all of the shit that had just spewed from her mouth. She hadn’t meant for it to come out like that, not in that way and definitely not after the night they had just had. But she also didn’t know how else she was supposed to get it across to him. He was stubborn, persistent and with guys like Niall, sometimes it was just easier to rip the bandaid off fast. It was better for both of them that way. No matter how she actually felt. 

And as much as she needed to get all of that off her chest, she hated seeing him upset. It hurt her heart looking over at him, slouched over his countertop with his head hanging between his shoulders. He didn’t say a word, not a single word and Cat couldn’t take it anymore. Shuffling around the kitchen island, she stepped over to him and cradled her hand to the side of his face, her thumb rubbing over his bearded jaw. “I’m sorry, Niall,” she whispered, “I didn’t mean it like that, I–”

“That’s exactly how ya meant it,” he mumbled. 

Cat let out a soft sigh. “No, it’s not. Not at all. I like you, okay?” she went on, “I really...I really do like you. What I feel for you is–...I can’t even explain it, and I don’t know how to make any sense of it. I never meant to lie to you, but I’m just-...I didn’t know what else to do. I’m trying to protect myself, okay? I have to.” 

Niall flung his head up as he looked over at her, his body following his movements. His knees bumped hers and she herself slotted between his spread legs, facing each other. “Protect yourself from what?” he asked, brow furrowed. “How I feel about ya? How I make ya feel?” 

Cat shook her head. “You’re gonna get tired of me, Niall.” 

“No.” 

“Yes, you are,” she told him, exasperation idle in her voice, “you’re gonna get tired of me. You’ll get tired of me and you won’t want me anymore and it will just-...I won’t be able to take it, okay? Not from you. It will break my heart.” 

And there it was. The real reason why she was scared. Why she was so intent on holding him at a distance. Why she had lied to him in the first place. Her feelings for him were much deeper than she was letting on, much deeper than maybe she even wanted to admit. Niall huffed out a deep breath and reached up, cupping his hands around the sides of her face. Cat’s gaze met his, and she nearly wanted to burst out crying. She didn’t even know why. “Listen to me,” he began, his brows raised as he stared at her through the tops of his eyes, “I will never get tired of you. I couldn’t. Cat, you are all that I think about, all the bloody fuckin’ time. I can’t get ya out of me head. Shit, I don’t want to. You, love, you are what I want. You have always been what I wanted. I have loved ya since the first time ya looked at me and havin’ ya back in me life these past few weeks, it’s just made me realize that I am nothin’...nothin’ without you.” 

His words slid over her ears, so sweet and so pure, it was hard to believe it was coming from Niall. But it was, and it made her heart soar. She was so intent on the thought of him breaking her heart, on not feeling the same way for her that she did for him, that she hadn’t even thought of the possibility that he, Niall Horan, had real, honest, true and undeniable feelings for her. She swallowed hard, resting her hands to his chest as he went on. “The reason why I haven’t had a serious girlfriend is not ‘cause I didn’t want one, not ‘cause I wanted to go out and fuck everyone, Cat...it’s ‘cause none of them were you.” 

A heavy breath eased past Cat’s lips and she knew there was no way she could hold in the tears that had worked their way to the brims of her eyes. Her eyelids fluttered closed, her chin wobbling as a tear slid down her cheek. She softly giggled, her nerves getting the better of her and Niall gently wiped the tear away as he stood up and pushed his forehead to hers. “Baby, none of them were you.” 

Dragging her hands across the span of his bare chest, Cat gingerly shook her head and just barely eased her chin up, bringing her mouth to his. She kissed him, kissed him soft and then deeper, wrapping her arms around his body as a few more tears slipped down her face. Niall might have shed a tear or two as well, not being one to shout that from the rooftops, but Cat felt the wetness on her skin as he buried his face against her neck when he pulled her into a tight hug. 

“So, you’ll be mine then?” Niall spoke up once more after a few quiet moments, inching back slightly from her embrace. 

Cat smiled up at him, reaching up to brush some hair from his eyes. They were too pretty to cover up. “Niall James, I was always yours. From the first time you kissed me. Besides…how on earth could I say no after that?” 

He snorted. “I’m sure you’d find a way…”

She pinched her eyes closed in a faint laugh. “Not this time,” she whispered, urging him into another kiss. His tongue curled around hers, and Cat sweetly whined before just barely pulling back. “So...I heard you, like, love me or something...” 

Niall cocked his head back, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Oh, ya did, did’ya?” 

“Yeah,” she nodded, with a faint shrug.

He breathed out a soft smile, one that made her heart nearly explode. “Well, ya heard right. I fuckin’ love you, Cat.”

“I love you, too, Niall,” she replied, her eyes dancing over his, “I always have, even though I spent the last four years trying to fight it.” 

With his brow raising, Niall licked across his lips. “Figured that. I always knew ya loved me,” he said. 

“You’re just being cocky now,” Cat rolled her eyes, her fingernails raking down the slope of his back. “You didn’t know shit.”

Niall laughed. “Of course I did, petal. Just had to get you to admit it,” he said. Pulling himself away slightly, he slipped his gaze down her scantily covered frame. She was on full display, nothing being hidden by the material of his shirt at that point. A familiar heat began to crawl over Cat’s exposed skin, Niall’s wild blue eyes bleeding dark as the intensity of his stare grew with each passing second that he looked over her. She knew that look all too well. “And I also know…” he paused, slipping one of his hands inside the hem of his open shirt that adorned her body. She faintly gasped as he groped at her breast, rubbing his fingertips across her pert nipple. His playful touch burned at her sensitive flesh and he peered back up at her. 

Niall thumbed at her bottom lip as he leaned in close. “...we got a lot more fuckin’ to do, kitty cat.” 

Cat bit off the bashful smile that was etching across her lips, her cheeks punching a bright pink. Niall chuckled amusingly at her reaction and took her hand in his, kissing sweetly across her knuckles before leading the way back to his bedroom. And as Cat held his fingers within hers, watching the muscles in his back move as he walked in front of her and felt the soreness between her legs dissipate as that uncompromisable need for him took over, all she could think about was the fact that he was hers. All hers. Hers to kiss and touch, to play with and fuck. To laugh with, and cry with and cuddle and enjoy. Hers to make love to. Hers to love.  

And it was so much better than a million hot and sticky nights spent at summer camp. 

~~

Without your love, I’m jaded, going crazy, come save me,

Hearts beating, not breathing, I’m breathing...

[bookersebastien]

blame @nicolodigenovas for inspiring me to write this (based on this amazing post)

It was a nice afternoon, clear and sunny, and absolutely perfect for lounging under a tree in the park with his latest read, an intense old italian romance that made him miss his home country. Instead, Nile was leading him across town with a jump in her step, to a tattoo shop of all places. He’d never shown any interest in the idea of them, he barely thought of them as art but the excitement on Nile’s face when she told him she got an apprenticeship with an amazing local tattoo artist he couldn’t say no to her - not after all the medieval literature readings he’d dragged her along to.

The shop itself was nice, large arching windows framing an intricately carved black door with the name painted on the front in a shimmering gold, and even Nicky had to admit he chuckled at it; “A Piece of Immortality,” it was rather poetic he thought. 

Nile was practically bouncing through the door, eyes as wide as her smile as the bell chimed, dragging Nicky by the hand inside. Her excitement only seemed to rival his when he found himself pouring over old scriptures late at night in the library, maybe even surpassed it as she immediately dropped Nicky’s hand and ran over to the man at the counter; Nicky couldn’t understand what she said from here, but she was animatedly nodding along to what he was saying, his gaze a bit unsteady as he pulled some pages from behind the counter, much to her delight, as she began to pour over them. 

The shop was very open, and Nicky found himself strangely welcomed by the warm colors that contrasted nicely with the cool metal accents adorning the walls and chairs, but more than that he could see Nile working here; he could easily picture her at her own station, completely engrossed in a new project, spending hour after hour learning new tricks and new styles, excitedly helping clients find the perfect thing to put on their bodies forever - though, Nicky could never understand why someone would do such a thing, Nile loved it and he wanted to support her as best he could.

A tall, dark-haired woman emerged from the back room and Nile wasted no time in introducing her to Nicky as Andy, one of the owners of the shop, as she was embraced in a crushing hug. Nicky glanced over at her arm, an amalgamation of black lines and words etched onto her skin; he could see a dragon looping around her arm, it’s body slinking up nearly its entire length, its face painted with a menacing scowl.

“Come on, you have to see the new stuff we’ve been working on and you’re going to love Yusuf’s!” Andy said, giving him a small nod before leading Nile to the back room. She shot him a giddy smile before following after Andy as fast as was professionally appropriate, leaving Nicky alone in the front room, save for the man behind the counter who looked like he’d sooner fall over drunk than actually be able to answer any questions as he paged through a book with glassy eyes, a not so subtly placed flask next to him, and the man sitting in a nearby chair, who nearly took Nicky’s breath away.

He was reclined in the chair, hands behind his head as his eyes trailed over the photos on the wall where there were countless tattoos pictured in so many styles and colors, Nicky almost wasn’t sure where to look but he felt his gaze travel back to the man before him. He was wearing a faded yellow shirt, thick curls tucked under a backwards baseball cap and the deepest brown eyes Nicky had ever seen. However, none of those things compared to the smile he gave Nicky when he turned around, a brilliant and encompassing smile that Nicky was sure put the sun itself to shame. Suddenly he was no longer missing the day he had planned. 

Nicky somehow managed a smile back, awkwardly crossing his arms across his chest while he watched the stranger stare up at him, utterly lost in his eyes until he realized the man was actually speaking to him.

“Huh?” Was the only word he could manage, giving his head a small shake.

“You look a little bit lost,” he said, eyes crinkling as he managed another heart-stopping smile.

“Yes, well I’ve never been in a tattoo shop before.” Nicky tried to laugh, but his nerves twisted it into a rather unsettling chuckle. It didn’t help that the man was still smiling up at him, and if he was aware of the way Nicky’s eyes watched him adjust his hat, he didn’t indicate it. 

“Ahh, well you certainly look cute when you’re confused.” He winked and Nicky’s breath caught in his throat, which he only just managed to play off as a cough. The man grinned, clearly happy with Nicky’s reaction.

Seconds passed, and then some more and Nicky still couldn’t manage to get words out, his mind circling over the word ‘cute’ like a vulture, except a vulture probably doesn’t have to deal with getting compliments from cute guys and probably sweats less than he was right now. A million things were running through his head, but none of them seemed like good responses, especially to a man as gorgeous as him. 

And it was again that Nicky realized too late that the man had said something again. “I am so sorry! What was that?” he asked, kicking himself while he plastered on a smile he knew wouldn’t hide his growing blush. 

The man chuckled. “I asked if you were here to get a tattoo,” he said, turning in his chair to face Nicky directly, clearly enjoying how flustered he was getting, wringing his hands together in front of him and eyes flicking back and forth towards him.

NIcky’s eyes widened, his response coming quickly from his mouth. “Oh, definitely not! I don’t really get the whole tattoo thing, I mean I guess you’re here to get one but honestly why even do this?” His hands moved in the air in front of him, voice tinged with a slight annoyance while he eyed the images on the wall, the ghost of a grimace crossing his face.

“And what do you mean by that?” The man’s tone was low, eyes narrowed, but Nicky didn’t seem to notice as he took a step closer to the wall, pointing lazily at the photos.

“It’s like this,” Nicky slipped into a neighboring chair, “most people regret their tattoos later in life, and it’s like the shop says, they’re immortal, they stay on your body forever. And besides that, why would people even choose to put this on their bodies? It’s not even art!”

The man eyed him with growing resentment, lips turned down; Nicky clearly didn’t realize who he was but his words stung nonetheless. His thoughts went to the tattoos that were sprawled across his arms, covered by the sleeves of his shirt, and the tattoos, his tattoos that were displayed on the wall, among those of Andy’s and Booker’s.

“Hm, that sure is something to say to a man in his own tattoo shop,” he spoke carefully, his back rigid and shoulders stiff. 

Nicky paused, unsure of what he meant by that when Nile suddenly came running up to him, gripping his arm and giving it a friendly tug. “Yusuf, your new stuff is amazing! The color scheme is perfect, I mean the client is going to love it!”

Nicky gulped.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

He could feel his palms start to sweat and no amount of wiping them against his pants was doing any good. Of course Nicky would meet a cute guy and manage to insult not only him, but his entire livelihood and there was no way he could pretend he didn’t mean every word he had said, not with the way he had said them.

Nile turned to him, oblivious and Nicky rubbed at the stubble on his cheek.

“I see you met Yusuf, isn’t his stuff amazing?” She gestured to the photos on the wall and even though there was no way Nicky could know which were his, his eyes leaned towards the ones with sweeping, careful and thin lines - he could almost picture Yusuf sketching them out on paper with a careful precision.

“Was Yusuf showing it to you?” she asked, moving to stand next to Nicky, her eyes lit up with a familiar passion.

“Not exactly,” Yusuf said flatly. 

“Oh, what were you talking about then?”

At Nile’s question, Nicky could feel the shame curl in his stomach and he didn’t even know how to begin to explain to her exactly how badly he fucked up. But apparently he didn’t need to because Yusuf rose from his chair, casually rolling up his sleeves to display arms that were nearly completely covered in tattoos. And Nicky had been right, he could see the similarity between them and the ones of his clients in the photos, though some were no doubt work from his colleagues. 

“Nicky here was just telling me how much he doesn’t like tattoos, what was it you said?” Yusuf was nearly glaring at him, arms crossed across his chest and Nicky knew there were no words to make up for what he did. “Oh yes, it was ‘it’s not even art.’”

Nile’s mouth dropped open, eyebrows raised and eyes flicking between the two before Yusuf spoke up again, “I think you should go.”

And Yusuf was right.

Nile placed a hand over Yusuf’s arm, whispering a quick apology to him before pulling Nicky from the shop, her steps hard and purposeful, body tense. Nicky just followed quietly, not even glancing back at Yusuf, whose eyes he could feel watching him as he left the shop just as Andy emerged from the back room with a question on her lips that he was too far to hear, but he didn’t need to hear it to know what it was about.

The afternoon air was cooler than earlier, a little biting against his skin but he barely had time to enjoy it because as soon as they passed the windows, Nile turned to him with an exasperated look. She glanced back towards the shop longingly, taking a moment to collect her thoughts before speaking. 

“Nicky why would you say that? I know you’re not like that, you can’t tell me that you really think that,” she said, sounding almost disappointed with hands dropped at her side.

“Nile, I’m so sorry!” He pressed his hands to his chest, eyes pleading as he watched her run a hand over her jacket to smooth the collar, a nervous tick of hers. 

“Nicky, this is my job. I just got this apprenticeship!” She gestured to the shop next to them. “You can’t just say stuff like that, I thought you were working past some of that conservative stuff!”

And he had, mostly. There were just some things that were hard to shake off after growing up in a strict catholic household, but that was something he loved about his studies. He loved to be able to study the literature and learn about the religions from around the world, it allowed him to see so much more than he was exposed to when he was younger and he could grow into a more accepting person than he was raised to be. 

“I will fix it, okay? I will fix it, Nile, I promise!” He grabbed her hand and she gave him a polite smile and a small nod, letting him leave while she headed back to the shop, hands tucked into her pockets.

And Nicky would figure something out, if not to fix it but at least to give a worthy apology - both to Yusuf and Nile. She didn’t deserve this, and she was right, he was trying to get past some of his conservative ideals and if he was being honest with himself, he wasn’t even completely sure he truly believed in what he said. It had all come out without a second thought and he could still see the pain etched onto Nile’s face and how utterly upset Yusuf was at his words.

He would figure something out, he had to.

[blue-lions-baby]

Scars That We Can’t Erase (Dimitri x F!Reader)

hi!! this fic was requested by an anon! i’m so sorry i realized too late that once i replied to the original request i can’t like reply to it anymore does that make sense i’ve been studying for six hours pLEASE i absolutely fell in love with the given prompt, and i hope my writing did it justice! here is the original request--

“Hi! Can i get some dimitri × fem reader in which dima literally adores the reader please? One time, the reader takes a grave hit for him in battle and he is a worried mess? He cant stop thinking about her, his training is sloppy because he cant concentrate, he feels awful. He even stays at the infirmary with her all day and night while she's unconscious, manuela has to force him to get some rest. He feels terrible and guilty when seeing the scar that the reader has (oh poor boi-) Thanks! Ilysm♡ “

i should also let you guys know that this fic (imo at least) is a bit more... intense, compared to my other ones. it does get rather lighthearted towards the end, so hopefully it kinda balances out ???

pre-timeskip and no spoilers!!

~*~

No...

No, no, no...

The last thing that Dimitri saw was your quivering, paling lips and your frame crumbling to the blood-soaked ground.

The last thing that Dimitri heard was Byleth’s cries for a healer and the way your name mangled out of his throat in a blood-curdling scream-- along with the sickeningly sweet cries of the bandit who struck you down as he stabbed, stabbed, stabbed the poor bastard’s soul out of his botched body.

The last thing Dimitri felt on his lips was blood. Blood from his tongue-- the pink, throbbing muscle oozing with red liquid-- or from the pulp of that bastard’s corpse, he did not know or care. The hauntingly warm liquid stained the corners of his lips and the core of his very soul as the deep holes and gashes he imprinted on the man’s body left ribbons of flesh hanging from visibly cracked bones, rendering him nearly unrecognizable as a human being.

“Dimitri! That’s enough!” A voice that sounded eerily similar to his professor’s wormed its way into his mind.

“How dare you lay a finger on her, you monster!”

“Your Highness, he’s already dead! Just leave him alone!” Cried a legion of voices, none holding familiarity to him.

“I will punish you for what you did! For what you did to (F/N)!”

It was his fault.

It was all his fault.

If only he saw that bandit rushing towards him.

If only he saw the glistening of the ruffian’s axe as he swung the sharpened slab of metal at him.

If only he heard you call out his name, a foreshadow to his bloody fate.

If only you didn’t jump in to save him.

If only he could have saved you.

Scenes of you falling before his very eyes kept replaying in his head, tearing open the fresh, guilt-induced wounds in his heart in a never-ending cycle. Something solid-- arms, perhaps-- grappled onto his pulsing, aching arms, which he shrugged off with ease. He wasn’t going to stop until that monster of a man suffered the consequences for hurting you. He wasn’t going to stop until that monster of a man paid his dues. He wasn’t going to stop--

Until he felt a gentle hold on his wrist.

Dimitri, snapping out of his blood-lusting reverie, paused instantly. He jerked his face to the small, shaking hand that just barely ghosted the surface of his gauntlet.

Your small, shaking hand.

“Dimitri...” A hand as beautiful as the one steadying his shaking wrist cupped his cheek, erasing the splatters of impurities that marred his smooth skin. “Please, stop...”

The fractured lance in his hand fell to the ground as its owner caught you in his arms, preventing you from suffering the same fate. Dimitri stumbled to his knees, fatigue and overexertion having finally caught up to him. Wheezing and hugging you as tightly as he could, he stroked your matted, sweaty, yet gorgeous locks with the gentleness of a lover. The delicate footsteps of Mercedes caught his attention and he looked up at his peer.

“Your Highness,” her eyes turned to you then back to him, “she’s going to be okay.”

Everything went black.

~*~

The carefree songs of swallows were the first to greet the groggy prince as he re-entered the world of consciousness. Although his hearing slowly came back to the awakened male, he just couldn’t will his eyelids to lift. And so he laid there, his ears the only channel to the bustling world around him.

“How are they?” Asked a monotone voice, stained with concern.

“Thankfully, the prince didn’t suffer any major wounds. A few scratches here and there, as well as some swelling and light bruising, but nothing too serious. Still, we should be careful straining his body any further. As for (F/N)...”

He heard the flirtatious healer heave heavily; his heart crumbled.

“That Mercedes girl did a splendid job patching her up in the moment. If you were to come even a moment later, we would have lost her.”

“So they’ll both live?” Dimitri recognized that worried tone from anywhere-- his loyal retainer.

“His Highness, for sure. (F/N), she... I’ve done everything I could to patch her up, but...”

“So... The best thing we can do is just... wait?”

“That’s the only thing we can do, Professor.”

Dimitri heard footsteps approach his bedside, then shortly congregate to elsewhere. The royal, disheartened and spirit-broken, let out a pitiful gurgle akin to a cry.

“Dimitri!”

“Your Highness!”

Through brute force and sheer will, he wrested his eyes open. The gentle morning light harshly struck his still-delicate pupils, making him wince. A raging headache tore through his temples, threatening to split his skull open.

“(F-F/N)...” He found himself muttering. “Where--? Where is--?”

“She is here, Your Highness.” Dedue motioned to the still figure beside the prince. “She is... not in the best condition.”

“I heard.” Dimitri dismissed the oncoming report, knowing his heart would all but collapse from within if he had to hear your grim fate iterated again. “I heard... everything.”

“Dimitri,” his professor began, “do you need anything?”

“Actually... May you please help me sit up?”

I can’t get a good look at her from this angle...

“No can do, Prince Dimitri.” Manuela retorted. “Even though your wounds are not as severe as (F/N)’s, we really shouldn’t put your body under any more stress.”

“Ms. Manuela, please. I beg of you.” Dimitri paused. “T-Truthfully, this position is rather uncomfortable. I would feel much better if I were to be readjusted.”

Manuela sighed, glanced over the royal’s swollen limbs and cut appendages, and reluctantly nodded.

“All right, fine. Let us know if anything starts to hurt.”

“Of course. You have my thanks. All of you.”

While Dedue busied himself propping and fluffing the pillows to Dimitri’s comfort, Manuela and Byleth worked together to assist the royal. They slowly managed to complete the task, doing their best to inflict as little pain as possible to the wincing and grimacing male.

“T-Thank you.” He breathed out shakily. “I feel... better now.”

“Do you require anything else, Your Highness?” Dedue questioned.

“I am fine, thank you. I just need time to... reflect.”

“I understand. I will wait outside should you need anything.” Dedue arose mechanically, bowed, and went outside to his station.

“Well, I need to run to town to restock on some medical supplies. I will be back as soon as I can. Goodbye.~” Manuela winked, patted Byleth on the shoulder, and sauntered away.

“Are you sure you don’t need anything else?” Byleth asked again, double-checking on the fluffed pillows.

“I am fine, Professor. Thank you for your help, as always.” Dimitri smiled slightly.

Byleth nodded, glanced at their other student, and leaned down.

“She’s going to be okay, Dimitri.”

Dimitri said nothing, the words meant to reassure only fueling his anxiety. All he could muster was a feigned smile and a small nod.

“Thank you for the encouragement, Professor.”

And Byleth was off, no doubt hurrying back to the rest of the Lions.

Now Dimitri was alone, save for Dedue who was ready to attend to his lord's every whim and command.

And... you.

Dimitri’s head lolled to face you. You were neatly tucked in the infirmary bed, a thin blanket cascaded over your body. So thin, in fact, that he could see the outline of the thick bandaging about your torso and shoulder.

Memories of the previous battle flooded his mind.

Distinct, biting, and painful memories that he’d do anything to bury in the oblivion-- to tuck away in the dark recesses of his mind, never to see the light of consciousness ever again.

He lifted his arm, forgoing his body’s desire to rest the battered limb, in a futile attempt to reach you-- to hold you.

So close, yet so far.

He remembered how his name was the last thing to spill out of your shaking, colorless lips as the lilting (E/C) hues he fell in love with gave way to a hollow, lifeless sheen.

How you were within his grasp-- within his reach-- yet he could do nothing to save you.

Except needlessly pulverize a dead man’s body into literal shreds.

Oh, Goddess.

His classmates.

His fellow Lions.

He had no direct memory of the faces or expressions he saw in his frenzy, yet he remembered it so distinctly. Although he possessed no recollections to base this on, he could clearly see each and every one of their faces painted with horror and quite possibly revulsion at the murderous monstrosity he managed to commit.

“Deem...”

Dimitri almost choked. He very nearly jumped out of bed if the shooting pain in his legs didn’t remind him of his sorry state.

“(F/N)...?!” Groaning, he turned his whole body to face you. “C-Can you hear me...?!”

“...ma.”

Your eyelids shuddered before stilling once more. He heard a quiet, labored wheeze rise from your chest before you succumbed to another deep sleep. A rush of emotions throbbed through his heart, each one too complex and short-lived for the prince to process.

“(F/N)...” He reached out his hand again, knowing full well that you were beyond his grasp. “I do not know if you can hear me, but please... Live.”

~*~

Within a day Dimitri’s body was healed of most of its external wounds, but his soul was still as ravaged as the battlefield you fell in. While the rest of the Lions greeted their leader with open arms (all except one, spitting out how his display in their previous skirmish proved he was “nothing but a feral boar,”) Dimitri could only return a fraction of their enthusiasm. He still smiled and trained and attended lectures, but the dark bags forming under his blank eyes were a physical manifestation of the raging storm within.

“Ope! Gotcha again, Your Highness!” Sylvain fisted the air triumphantly, hoping his smug arrogance would arouse a competitive flame within the despondent teen.

“Ah... It appears you have.” Dimitri mumbled, more so to himself than to Sylvain, and slipped into a fighting stance. “Let us try again.”

“Actually, Your Highness...” Sylvain leaned on the wooden training lance. “How about we take a short break. We’ve been training all afternoon.”

“Has it been that long?” Dimitri blinked, looking up at the still-blue skies.

“Yeah. C’mon. I’ll take care of the lances, you just sit down and make yourself comfortable.”

Although Dimitri would typically fight and say something along the lines of how he couldn’t possibly allow someone to take care of something he could so easily do himself, Sylvain found the lance slip out of the royal’s fingers with ease. After propping the training weapons on a rack, Sylvain joined Dimitri on a bench.

“So Your Highness,” Sylvain slid to his friend’s side, “we... couldn’t help noticing that...”

“Yes?”

“Well...” Sylvain trailed off again. “Ever since... you know... You haven’t been your usual self. At all.”

“Is that so...” Dimitri mumbled, staring at the ground with great interest.

“Yeah... We’ve all been really worried about you, Your Highness. We just... We just want to make sure you’re okay.”

Dimitri stared unblinkingly at nothing, utterly reaction-less to his friend’s voiced concern. He remained unmoving for a long time; Sylvain thought that if he so much as laid a hand on Dimitri’s shoulder, he would all but shatter into irreparable shards.

“... I apologize for my rudeness Sylvain, but I must go to the infirmary.”

“Huh--?”

“It is of utmost importance. Please excuse me.”

“Ah--! Hey, wait--!”

The prince managed to just barely slip out of the redhead’s outstretched palm, gracefully bobbing out of reach and the training grounds.

♠ ♥ ♣ ----------------------------------------------------------- ♣ ♥ ♠

“You have to take care of yourself too, you know.” Manuela clicked her tongue disapprovingly, setting down a lit candle on a nearby table.

“Thank you for your concern Ms. Manuela, but I can assure you that I am feeling just fine.” Dimitri replied flatly, his glossy pupils not leaving your frame for a second.

“Sure, but the bags under your eyes say otherwise.”

Dimitri’s fingertips grazed the sensitive stretch of skin on his face, his upper eyelid twitching in response to the gentle touch.

“I do not care much for personal vanity.”

“It’s a sign that you’re not getting enough sleep.” Manuela retorted sharply, smoothing out the crinkles on a nearby bed. “Here. I prepared a bed for you. If you’re going to spend the night here, at least do it on a bed.”

Sunken azure hues rested on the stiff, plank-like cot longingly before snapping back to your ashy complexion.

“Thank you, Ms. Manuela. I will make use of it later.”

“No, Prince Dimitri. Rest. Now.”

Brown, fiery eyes clashed with bleary blues as the healer and prince remained locked in a fierce staring match. Dimitri’s eyes began to water as he stifled a yawn, reluctantly accepting defeat as he slowly stood up and headed for the bed.

“Good. Thank you.” The prince’s yawn seemed to rub off on Manuela as she stretched her arms to the sky. “Go to sleep, all right? Don’t stay up too late.”

“Yes, Ms. Manuela...”

Manuela initiated one last check on your battered body, bade a goodnight to the royal, and slipped out of the infirmary.

Dimitri peered blankly at the barren ceiling, a cacophonous symphony comprised of self-hatred and regret premiering at the forefront of his thoughts. And the soloist singing for eternal damnation to his soul was none other than you-- you, whom he so lovingly adored. You, who helped pull him from the abyss more times than he could count. You, the light that warded off his thickening darkness. And how did he show his profound appreciation towards you?

By sentencing you to eternal sleep for his carelessness.

Dimitri twisted his body to face you, the delicate mask that he had so calculatingly designed crumbling at the near-lifeless shell before him. The shallow, unsteady rise and fall of your chest was the only indicator that your soul hadn’t left your body; he grew terrified at the prospect of it dipping and never rising. He made conscious effort to avert his eyes from that region-- not only out of the high regard he held towards you, but...

The more he lingered on images of your stilling body, the tighter his chest grew.

Just thinking about it threatened how much air his lungs could take in.

He rocked himself to a sitting position and slipped his feet out of bed. He dutifully made his way back to his original post-- on a rickety stool by your bedside. He firmly planted his rear on the round slab of wood and tenderly brushed a stray lock of hair from your forehead.

Goddess you were so, so beautiful.

He felt almost guilty admiring you while you were in such a state, but the way the singular lit candle contoured every feature, every dip in your face in the most heavenly way possible... He couldn’t help it. His hand found residence in yours, taking painstaking note of the very obvious size difference. His other hand busied itself smoothing your unruly hair, quelling the frazzled strands from a complete uproar.

He’d trade his life for yours in a heartbeat if it meant that he could witness the lively (E/C) hues he fell so desperately in love with shine once again.

A lone finger hooked under your jaw and the rest of his digits caressed your icy cheek.

“(F/N)...” His voice cracked out, “I am so, so sorry...”

Something hot leaked out of his eyes and splattered onto your cheek, in which he alarmingly wiped away. He reached up to halt the steady stream of tears pouring out of him, but the dam had broken. His large frame hunched over into a quivering mass, broken sobs echoing off of the indifferent walls of the dark infirmary. Only half-empty bottles of medicine bore witness to the royal’s breakdown; his sloppy apologies and implorations fell on the earless bushels of medicinal herbs.

The small candle that Manuela had previously set up was nearing its end, the stumpy mass of wax and wick now a mere puddle of its former self. Before the few remaining trickles of light embarked on their last pilgrimage across the room, Dimitri made one last guttural plea.

“Wake up, my Beloved...” He called out, the name he had granted you only in his mind slipping out in his desperate hour. “Please, wake up...”

♠ ♥ ♣ ----------------------------------------------------------- ♣ ♥ ♠

The mellow arias of songbirds heralded the beginning of a new day. A biting breeze blew through an open window and sliced your exposed skin, eliciting little goosebumps on the affected areas. With a breathless sigh and a pain-stricken moan, your eyelids managed to wedge themselves open. A bland ceiling was the first to welcome you back to the land of the living-- along with a large, dark mass hovering beside you.

You felt the remnants of a scream scratch out of your sorely unused throat and a sudden barrage of aches and pains besieged your frail body. You opened your mouth to yell, to cry for help, but no sound manifested. You felt something rough but warm adjust its grip on your hand, further sending your mind into a groggy panic.

“Mmph... (F/N)...”

That... That voice...

You stilled yourself (not that you were moving much anyway) and silently studied the steadily breathing shadow beside you. The dim dawn’s light reflected off of a bundle of disheveled gold locks, as well as a bright blue cape that was messily slung over a male’s shoulder.

A maelstrom of memories swirled through your mind.

A ruffian racing towards Dimitri, the edge of a bloodied and rusted axe swinging right for his neck.

Your legs discovering a mind of its own as it placed you right on the receiving end of the strike.

Your head throbbed, each surge of memory more painful than the last.

Darkness, followed by the putrid, metallic smell of blood in the distance and other auditory sensations too disturbing to fully comprehend.

Something warm and comforting pricked the corner of your heart as you recalled a certain sensation akin to embracing before you blacked out. Your thoughts frustratingly hazed into nothing. It felt like a certain memory was locked, forever lost behind an impenetrable brain fog. You wracked and sifted through your fragmented memories, but pieced together nothing. 

The first few rays of light began to peak over the horizon, streaming into the room in gentle waves; you squinted your eyes, still unused to any light source brighter than a candle. As your vision slowly readjusted to the brightening room, your eyes caught sight of something that almost sent you back to sleep.

Your fingers tightly entwined with Dimitri’s.

Your weak heart thundered loudly in your ears-- so loud, in fact, you worried that it would be enough to rouse the slumbering prince. As cautiously as you could, your body writhed itself in a futile attempt to sit yourself up. You kept a careful eye on the prince, noting how dark the circles under his eyes have become and how hollow his cheeks have turned. The fact that rest had eluded him for however long you were unconscious was as plain as day.

You shifted your stiff legs a bit; the frame of your bed let out a booming groan.

Dimitri quietly snorted and his neck reeled upwards; alarmed blue eyes met with equally alarmed (E/C). The veins in Dimitri’s neck swam to the surface of his skin, growing more and more defined as every choking second passed. 

“H-...” You began. “Hi...”

“(F/N)!” 

Your surroundings whizzed right past you before you were unceremoniously slammed into something solid but so, so... warm. 

Ah...

You remembered now.

This tenderness.

This contentment.

This warmth.

Dimitri held you in his arms, stroking your hair and mumbling rushed whispers as he did the day you fell.

“(F/N)... Oh, (F/N)...”

You felt how hard and rapid his heart was beating, almost deafening the incoherent whispers he sighed into your hair. Your arms weakly wrapped around his heaving back, rubbing it as soothingly as you could. He pulled you closer in response-- closer, closer, closer, until every inch of you was smothered by him. Hesitant, trembling fingers graced your tightly wound bandages and you felt something warm and wet splatter onto your exposed shoulder.

“Dimitri...” You pulled away slightly to look up at him and smiled. “It’s okay... I’m okay...”

“(F/N), I--” Clear, shiny beads of remorse pricked the corners of the prince’s eyes. “I’m so sorry. Goddess, I am so sorry, I... I’m so--”

You reached a finger to his lips, your heart splintering into tinier and tinier pieces as you watched the man you love slur apology after apology for a crime he did not commit.

“It’s okay, Dimitri... I'm okay now... I’ll be okay.”

The door quietly clicked open and a slender leg slipped itself into the tiny crack. The rest of Manuela slid in, along with a tray of vials and herbs.

“Oh--!” The healer tripped on her own two feet, dropping the tray and all of its contents onto the ground. She stumbled over the tied wad of herbs and leaking bottles of medicine that she had so desperately haggled from a travelling merchant.

“(F-F/N)?” She stuttered, slowly closing the distance between you two. “H-How are you feeling?”

“Um, w-well...” You peered down sheepishly, suddenly becoming very aware of the... intimate position you were in. “I am a bit achy all over but--”

“Ah!” Dimitri immediately released you from his arms and he shot out of his stool, almost tripping backwards. “P-Please forgive me! I was so caught up with my emotions, I did not even ask for your consent to hold you in such a way, a-and your wounds--!”

“Oh! N-No, Dimitri, it’s all right! I-- Uh--”

A rich chuckle from the older woman padded the shrill squeaks that poured out of you and your house leader.

“Well, Prince Dimitri... I’m afraid you can’t have her just yet. I still have to do a thorough check up on her. But after that... she’s all yours.”

Scarlet seeped into the royal’s cheeks, his sickly pallor bursting into hearty ruddiness. Broken vowels tumbled out of him as he clumsily rested his arse back onto the wooden stool.

“Actually Prince Dimitri,” Manuela began as she checked your vitals, “can you notify the professor that (F/N) has awakened?”

“You can count on me, Ms. Manuela.” Dimitri dutifully stood up and bowed. “I will deliver the news to Professor Byleth.”

Casting one last glance at you and bashfully looking down when he caught your eye, Dimitri hurried out of the infirmary to complete possibly the most important mission ever entrusted to him.

♠ ♥ ♣ ----------------------------------------------------------- ♣ ♥ ♠

After your awakening, your classmates and professor began incorporating regular infirmary visits into their schedule. They showered you with kind, encouraging words and occasionally bore small gifts, constantly reminding you that they were right alongside you on your road to recovery.

But your most frequent visitor of all was your beloved house leader.

Every morning, without fail, he would grace your presence with the pleasant aroma of freshly prepared breakfast.

Every afternoon-- after class and training-- he spent his days with you, informing and personally tutoring you over concepts the class learned that day. Or simply providing his company, ensuring that the sinking and crushing feeling of loneliness never found residence in your heart. 

Every evening, after all of his academic and princely duties have been met, he delivered your dinner trays with a sparkle in his eye and a smile on his lips.

"Is everything all right? Is there anything else you would like to go over from today’s lesson? If not, perhaps I can fetch you a glass of water in case you grow parched during the night.”

“Dimitri,” you laughed as you slowly rested your weary back on freshly-fluffed pillows, “you’re just downright spoiling me! I’m going to miss all this special treatment when I’m finally discharged.”

“W-Well, I would be more than happy to continue doing this long after you have been discharged.” Dimitri coughed. “I love-- er, rather, I find my time with you to be quite enjoyable.”

“Even though you’re constantly running around and fetching me whatever my heart desires?” You giggled.

“Why, of course! Seeing you content and well brings me insurmountable joy.”

“You’re so thoughtful, Dimitri.” You couldn’t help but grin after seeing how flushed his face turned. “Thank you so much for everything. You and all the other Lions have made my time in the infirmary so much more bearable. It’s... nice to feel loved like this.”

“You are loved, (F/N).” Dimitri threw the thin blanket over you. “You are an integral part to our house... and... t-to me.”

“Pardon?” You leaned forward, hoping to catch whatever he stuttered.

“N-Nothing. Please do not worry yourself over it. It is not very important.” He shot you a reassuring smile before your bandages entered his field of vision. Shame streaked across his features; his hold on the edge of the blanket loosened as he unconsciously stepped away from you.

“Dimitri...” You reached out for him, hoping he would take your hand as he always did. The prince kept his distance however, refusing to even look at you.

“(F/N)... (F/N), I’m--”

“Dimitri,” you raised your palm, “stop.”

Pure, unmasked horror bruised his handsome features.

“I-I apologize if I have offended you in some way--”

“It’s not that. It’s...” You sighed, closing your eyes. “Dimitri... What happened that day is not your fault. There is not a single drop of rage or bitterness in my heart. I can’t forgive you, simply because I was never mad at you to begin with. So please... Don’t look so pained when you see my bandages.”

Your stomach knotted painfully as a second alternative was made clear in your mind.

“Unless... Perhaps my wounds disgust you in some way...”

“Goddess, no!” Dimitri interjected immediately. “That cannot possibly be further from the truth. Your beauty has never waned-- not even for a second.”

The royal’s hand flew to cover his mouth while you both peered at each other, sharing the same shocked expression on your faces. Dimitri had never possessed such a strong desire to catapult himself into the sun. He remained frozen in fear, unsure how or if he could even save himself from his slip.

You tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear and looked down, the corners of your lips slightly turned upward. Dimitri found it unnecessary to fling himself into the sun since his cheeks had practically burst into flames at this point.

“O-Oh... Um... Thank you...” You managed to mumble, fidgeting with your blanket sheepishly.

“Um--!” Dimitri cleared his throat, jumped out of his seat, and bowed deeply. “I-It is getting quite late, is it not? I am afraid I must retire for the evening. Goodnight (F-F/N).”

The upper half of his body snapped downward in another deep bow as the prince hastily retreated from his social blunder. When the door clicked closed, you had all but broken into laughter. You pleasantly recalled Manuela’s previous remark towards the prince, and your heart danced in your chest. 

“Your beauty has never waned-- not even for a second.”

You buried your face in your palms and let out a quiet, airy scream, a delightful rush of emotions coursing through you. You laughed almost maniacally to yourself, and you were certain if someone were to walk in on you right this moment they would think you had gone absolutely mad. Look at you! Acting like an antsy little schoolgirl! How embarrassing!

Then again, there should be no shame in experiencing such highs. Especially when it’s related to Dimitri! You gingerly twisted your body so you that you were face-first into your pillow before letting out a happy, muffled scream.

Meanwhile, Dimitri was marching back to his room, head down and thankful that at least the cover of night was enough to hide the flushed tone of his face. Like you, he replayed that one line-- that little slip of his tongue-- in his head over and over again. Unlike you, he wished to chain his feet to a cinder block and toss himself into the lake. Hopefully the fish would be willing to share the same space with an idiot of his caliber.

Still, even as he flung himself into the comforting embrace of his bed, his thoughts couldn’t help but drift to your response to his idiocy. The way you looked down, smiling gently at his words, the tips of your ears adopting a shade of baby pink... 

You were so... 

So...

Cute...! 

Dimitri subjected his poor pillow to a bone-crushing hug as he buried his face in the mushy thing, imagining the soft, velvety texture of his pillow to be your skin and the warmth of the stuffed fabric to be your body pressed flushed against his.

Racing thoughts and rose-tinted fantasies propelled you both further and further away from Sleep, who desperately sought out her sleepless prince and fidgety (Favorite Class). When Sleep finally took hold of you, she could do little to obstruct the joyous meeting you both shared with each other in the forgotten land of dreams. 

♠ ♥ ♣ ----------------------------------------------------------- ♣ ♥ ♠

“Are you ready, (F/N)?”

You met Manuela’s steady gaze with your own. With a firm nod, you replied,

“Yes.”

The healer moved closer to you, her skilled hands undoing the set of bandages for the last time. Dimitri averted his frantic eyes to the wall when the dressing loosened just enough for your chest to peak through. A cold, unforgiving breeze whipped the newly exposed skin, jolting a shiver down your spine. Manuela clicked her tongue softly and slowly traced your shoulder.

“The wound’s all healed, but I’m afraid this scar’s here to stay...”

Your eyes immediately flashed over to Dimitri’s stiffening frame.

“I see...”

“You can apply certain creams on site to reduce its appearance, but it’ll never go away completely... I’m sorry, (F/N).”

“It’s all right, Ms. Manuela.” You flashed her a controlled smile. “Honestly, with all the regular outings to dispel bandits and whatnot... It was only a matter of time before I bore my first battle scar.”

Manuela’s lips curved upward and she patted you on your unmarked shoulder.

“Do you need anything else, (F/N)? Some water, or food?”

You hummed thoughtfully, then shook your head.

“All right. Should you need anything, all you have to do is holler.” Manuela gave you one last smile before excusing herself from the room.

Dimitri stood unmoving and unblinking, countering your hard stare with blatant refusal to look at your scar-- a physical memento of his failure.

“Dimitri.”

The prince visibly recoiled at the sound of his own name.

“Look at me.”

His jaw clenched tautly; his eyes crunched into a pain-stricken wince. 

“Look at me, please.”

He refused.

“I don’t blame you for this.”

. . .

“And I’ll never blame you for it.”

. . .

“If it means saving you, I’ll gladly do it again.”

This struck a chord with the prince, his enraged face suddenly mere inches away from yours.  

“Don’t you dare say such a thing.” He growled lowly. “I will not allow you to throw your life away for me.”

“Dimitri...” You cupped his cheek in your hand, in which he immediately melted into. “I’ll gladly do it again because... Because... I love you.”

Not a moment later did you feel something warm and soft press against your lips. The tips of his bangs lightly dusted the surface of your skin, tickling your nose with the crisp smell of Faerhgus pine. A pair of gloved hands caught either side of your face, thumbs rubbing shallow circles into your cheeks as he pressed his lips further into yours. His mouth moved sloppily but lovingly, awkwardly yet ardently adoringly against yours; a medley of celestial colors you’ve never seen before flashed brilliantly at the forefront of your mind, casting you into a dreamlike stupor.

Dimitri leapt back, panic stewing in his deep briny blues. His fingers brushed his still-tingling lips as he bowed lowly.

“F-Forgive me (F/N), I-.. I have no idea what possessed me to do such a thing! I suppose I was just, um, c-caught in the moment and--?!”

More than tired of hearing his apologies, you grabbed his shirt’s collar and jerked him back to where he was before-- contently and firmly pressed right against your lips. Your fingers bunched themselves into patches of velvety, wispy gold while your lips moved sanguinely against his, happily leading your mouth and his in a spicy dance. A small moan escaped your slightly opened lips and Dimitri, consumed by nothing but base desires, surprised your tongue with a face-to-face meeting. 

The wet muscle wrapped about yours, pulling you into an unyielding fight for dominance. You felt smooth sheets hit your exposed back; you hadn’t even noticed Dimitri progressively lowering the both of you onto your bed. He planted his hands on either side of your body, ridding any hope of escape from his ravaging kisses.

Not that you wanted to anyway. 

Dimitri’s lips left yours to wander around your face and neck, taking particular interest in the latter. He nipped the exposed skin, teething and sucking wherever his heart desired until you were covered in nothing but love bites.

Then he caught sight of your cleavage, simply irresistible and downright begging to be marked with his love.

Then he suddenly remembered that you two were in a very public place and not in the private confines of his bedroom or dreams.

“Ah-- Um--” Dimitri stammered, quickly pulling away from your panting form. “P-Perhaps we should... stop... before it escalates any further...”

You whined, wanting nothing more than to be showered with kisses and bathed in his worshiping love. But your senses, hazy as they may be, pulled through the fog and coldly reminded you of your current whereabouts. 

“Fine...” You pulled his fingers to your sultry lips and pressed a hot kiss on each digit. Dimitri’s jaw and pants tightened, the prince desperately clinging onto the last thread of sanity and reason which threatened to snap at any moment.

“My Beloved,” he purred sweetly, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek, “rest now. When your strength returns to its fullest, we can pick up where we left off. I swear it.”

You giggled, finding his attempt at being serious too adorable. The heat and passion was still very visible in his eyes, and it was obvious that anymore teasing on your end would send him over the edge.

You nodded sleepily as he pulled the covers over you. He graced your lips with one more kiss before he stood up.

“Class will be starting shortly. Do you need anything before I go?”

“Mm...” You looked up coyly. “One more kiss, please!”

Dimitri chuckled, happily fulfilling both of your wishes.

“My Beloved is too cute for her own good...” He murmured huskily into your ear. “It should be a crime to be this captivating.”

“Then maybe you should punish me tonight~?”

“T-That’s...” Dimitri’s smug confidence had instantly dissipated. “S-Sleep well, (F/N).”

You had never seen a person’s cheeks go so red so fast. Dimitri zoomed out of the infirmary with a chorale of laughter bubbling out of his beloved.

Not a moment later after the door closed, it opened again just enough for the prince’s head to pop back in.

“Oh, uh, (F/N)?”

“Yes, darling?”

“I...” He cleared his throat loudly and shyly smiled. “I love you too.”

bonus: your discharge from the infirmary prompted a day of celebration in the blue lions house, with byleth cancelling lectures and training for the day to celebrate your miraculous recovery.

the rest of the lions organized a mini ‘welcome back’ party; the desks that previously held books and other study things now harbored all your favorite dishes on one side and a cluster of gifts on the other.

and when the sun dipped below the horizon, well... let’s just say dimitri made good on his promise from that night onward ;)

[smalltowndetective]

31 Days of Wayhaven-Halloween

@31daysofwayhaven

Ao3 Link

Title: Fall Festival

Pairing: Felix and Thea

Words: 1.2k

Summary: Was this just an excuse to dress Thea like a Disney princess? Yes, yes it was. (Also for Felix and Thea to just be cute)

Thea had completely forgotten what he had promised Tina months ago.

               Having the supernatural suddenly show up to Wayhaven would do that, after all, and the whirlwind of meeting a team that was slowly becoming more and more of some sort of family.

               Can’t leave Felix out of that either.

               The few months that they had been officially dating had been a dream come true, and she wanted nothing more than to see it continue to bloom.

               She had been expecting to spend Halloween with Felix, the two of them already having craved pumpkins earlier in the week, if not for what she had already agreed to.

               It happened before even Unit Bravo came to town, back when Verda had first come to Wayhaven. His husband Eric had come over to the station with their two daughters, Cara and Lacey, and she was not quite sure what brought it on, but what Cara had said to her brought her here to this moment.

               “You look like Belle!”

               Thea had never thought to put her together with the Disney Princess, and she was not sure why Cara had said so, but it had been enough for Tina.

               “Now, you got to go as Belle for the Fall Festival. It’s fated”

               Every autumn, Wayhaven had a fall festival, which the station normally did a few booths in each year. It was one of her favorite times of the year, the leaves at their full force of bright arrays of red, orange, and yellow. Many people in the town would bring their art to be sold or make games for the kids in the town, and there were normally several people dressed in costumes that people could take pictures with. Thea’s normal job normally consisted of welcoming people in, the obvious choice given her people skills, but this year was a bit different.

               I can’t believe I agreed to do this.

               After Cara had said it, Tina had been pushing her on it for weeks, until she finally relented to get her to stop pushing the issue.

               And now she was behind the pavilion in the park of Wayhaven, sitting down in a metal chair, while Tina pulled her hair back.

               “You’re going to do great!”, she beamed as bobby pinned half of her hair in a bun before tying a yellow ribbon around it.

               “I still don’t know how you managed to talk me into this”, Thea replied, smoothing down her dress with her hands.

               “Because I’m your best friend?”, she laughed, “Now, my genius is done. Go to the mirror and see how you look”

               She gave a smile, and went to the full-length mirror that Tina had dragged out here earlier, and she stared at her reflection.

               The long ruffled golden yellow dress fell to her feet, even with the wide skirt underneath the top layer, part of it dragging on the ground from it being for a slightly taller person. Small, slightly darker ruffles were knitted along the ruffles of the dress, and the off the shoulder sleeves were more revealing then Thea was used to. The long elbow length gloves that went to her elbows did little against the slight chill that evening.

               She ran her hand through her waist length dark chocolate brown hair, and she turned to Tina.

               “You know, I think that six-year-old Thea would be absolutely thrilled by this”

               “You look gorgeous!”, she grinned is response, “A true princess, dressed up like that”

               Thea did her best to laugh in return, even if nerves were starting to fill her stomach.

               I’m not quite sure if I’m the best at this.

               “Hey you two”

               Both her and Tina turned to see Verda being closely followed by Eric, who was holding their youngest daughter, while Cara came running up to Thea.

               “You look so pretty!”, she marveled, holding onto the edge of her dress, looking up at her with wide eyes.

               “Thank you”, she smiled, moving her hand to run through her shoulder length hair, “And you make quite a cute ladybug”

               Cara beamed a smile at her, and Thea turned to Verda, “It’s good to see you here”

               “We wouldn’t miss it”, he replied, “And I trust you’ll be making your way to the festival soon?”

               “I will”, she said, and Tina wrapped her arm around hers.

               “And someone’s going to tag along”, she said, “Come on Thea”

               She gave a light chuckle, and she let Tina lead her to the midst of it all, trying not to trip over her dress as she followed behind her.

               The night went by quicker than she thought, enjoying it more than she thought she would. It was nice to see people smile, and after everything that had happened in Wayhaven, she believed that everyone needed tonight. Thea herself was smiling so wide that her cheeks hurt, but she continued to smile anyway, happy to have one evening where she was not having to worry about the supernatural on every corner.

               It was now later at night, and most people were packing up and getting ready to leave. Thea was going to give Tina a ride back to her apartment, so she was waiting for her so she could go ahead and leave.

               And go back to the warehouse to see Felix.

               Her stomach seemed to fill with butterflies at the thought, and she was unable to hide a smile on her face.

               She looked around the gazebo that was sitting underneath, it painted white and decorated with painted flowers, it almost seeming to glow from the streetlights.

               “Thea!”

               She felt herself to turn to see Felix, and she felt her jaw drop slightly at seeing him here, and she saw his face form a bright grin.

               “Wow”, he breathed out, “You look- beautiful”

               Fighting to hide the blush that was threatening to overwhelm her face, she gave him a smile, “Thank you”.

               “Of course, you’re always stunning”, he continued, “You could be covered in mud and I’d still think you’re the most gorgeous person on the planet”

               Thea gave a small laugh, as she felt her cheeks warm, “I’m never going to get used to you doing that, aren’t I?”

               Felix came to sit next to her at the steps of the gazebo, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

               “You deserve to hear it”, he said, “Because every word is true”, then leaning to plant a whisper of a kiss on her temple.

               “I thought you weren’t coming tonight”, she spoke, “Not that I’m disappointed in seeing you here”

               “Thought I’d check on you”, he shrugged, “And I’m guessing that you would have not shown up like this to the warehouse, so I am so glad I came”

               She laughed, “I think the team would be very confused if I showed up like this”

               “And who would care what they think?”, Felix grinned.

               A gentle smile formed across her lips, and he leaned closer to her to rest his forehead against hers for just a second before moving to capture his lips with hers.

               Every kiss never failed to have that sense of familiarity in it, as if kissing him was as comforting of coming home after a long day.

               I never want us to end.

               Not ever.

               She gently broke off the kiss, resting her forehead on his, and even though her eyes were closed, Thea knew that she had found home.

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

[checkmate] [3]

Summary: After ten years of fighting and surviving their way through the apocalypse in search of their son, Hugo and Isabel Sulieman finally find Ericson’s Boarding School for Troubled Youth and are ready to reunite with Louis.

Notes: After many hours of writing and rewriting this story, I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s going to be way longer than I anticipated [what else is new]. I want to keep the all chapters around the same length [about 5k] so there’s a lot of splitting being done. I think it’s safe to say that there will be more than four parts to this like I had originally planned. 

Anyway, I hope y’all enjoy it! Thank you for reading and for all the positive feedback!

As I’ve said before, this is a part of the contest prize story for @bluebutterfly1​!

Read on AO3

---

Through the crack of the walker’s skull, blood oozes dark, dripping down the handle of the hatchet and onto his hand. Cold, clotted, and disgusting. 

Hugo pushes the dead walker down with a huff just as Isabel finishes off the last one a few steps away. 

They’re repulsive, the walkers. Even now, Hugo can’t over their decaying stench and peeling flesh. These walkers, in particular, are more disgusting- fresher walkers usually are. 

Older walkers- years and years older- are slower, nothing but leathery skin and bone, weak from muscle deterioration and perhaps even hunger. 

Newer walkers are what scare Hugo. Not only are the remains of a humane appearance more present, but they’re stronger, quicker, hungrier.  

Killing them is such a normal thing now, he thinks. It’s easier when he considers it as a prevention of more chaos with every walker he kills. One less fresh walker. One less to wander around and devour innocent, unsuspecting survivors. There’s been too much of that. 

“All clear,” Isabel says, wiping her knife off on the dirty rag attached to her belt. “Can we make this quick?” 

Up close on the pier, the boat is an absolute wreck. Stray pieces of wood jut out of the water, metal stuck swaying with the waves, knocking into the boat. From what he can see, there isn’t a safe enough way for him to climb inside. 

“Yep, it’s terrible. A real mess,” Isabel says. “Worst boat I’ve ever stood before in my life.”

Hugo raises a brow, elbowing her with a smirk. 

“Worse than The Nauti Buoy?”

Isabel wrinkles her nose. “Ugh. I hated that damn thing.”

The Nauti Buoy was the clever name of his brother’s boat, one Stephen prided himself on, even though he stole the name from another boat he came across in his travels to pass off as his own. 

Hugo used to say, “You know how people end up looking like their animals? Well, Stephen looks like his boat.”

Gaudy decor inside and out, painted a terrible antique gold color, much bigger than necessary. 

Well, he thought so at the time. After Stephen’s second divorce, he ended up living in the damn thing. Oh, how proud their mother was. At least he was able to keep his prized watch collection safe and secure, because that’s all that really mattered. 

Hugo only ever brought his family onto that boat once. Isabel grew so sick an hour in that they had to turn the damn thing around and head back to shore. 

Not Louis, though. 

Louis loved being on that boat. Not once did he ever get sick, except Hugo had to warn him about leaning too far over the railing to get a better look at the dolphins he spotted. Nearly fell overboard and gave Hugo a heart attack. 

Seeing Louis’ glowing face as he marveled at the waves and salty air was what inspired Hugo to invest in a boat of his own. 

Louis named it Gus. 

Didn’t really have a reason, he just thought the boat looked like a Gus. 

Hugo smiles. 

“It wasn’t that bad, just ugly,” he says. “What do you think happened?.” 

“I told you, someone blew it to shit,” Isabel says. “What exactly are you expecting to find?”

“Something useful,” Hugo kneels down, pressing a hand against the boat to steady himself as he leans in through a gaping hole. “Clothes, weapons, maybe food.”

“Hey, careful-”

“Look, through there? I can see a couple of crates floating inside. Worth checking out. Here, why don't you go check along the shore, I’ll see if I can grab one.”

“How about I stay right here and help you? I know you’re gonna fall in and I’ll have to fish you out.” 

“I’m not gonna fall in,” Hugo rolls his eyes. “Have some faith in me.”

“It’s not that I don’t have faith in you, Hugh,” Isabel frowns. “I’d just rather prevent a disaster than try and fix one. Who knows what’s lurking around in these waters.”

“What, you think a shark’s going to gobble me up?”

“No, a walker,” Isabel kneels down beside him. “They can move under there much better than we can, and they don’t gotta breathe. If this ship crashed, odds are there were people on it who were thrown into the water. Hence, walkers.”

Well, damn, he hadn’t thought of that. Leaning over the edge, Hugo squints. The water’s pretty mucky, so he can’t tell how deep it is or what the bottom holds. 

“I could out swim a walker, but to put your mind at ease-,” Isabel scoffs “-I’ll look around here some more and see if I can find something to pull the crates closer while you go search the shore, then we can pull the crates out together.” 

“Y’know there’s probably nothing in them but useless, sodden supplies, right?” Isabel says, “I mean, I doubt this was some sort of battleship that carried weapons and first aid. Hell, it probably carried toy cars or something.”

“Toy cars?” Hugo laughs. “If that’s the case, then your little friend won’t need to ride around in your bag anymore. He can drive right beside us.”

“You’re not funny.”

“No?” Hugo smirks. “I’m a little funny, c’mon. Geoff driving around in a little car? Honking at the squirrels? Flippin’ me the bird every chance he gets? Hilarious.” 

With an exasperated shake of her head, Isabel turns on her heels towards the shoreline, saying, “Fine, I’ll walk around. Don’t touch those crates until I get back because I swear if you fall in-”

“I’m not going to fall in,” Hugo calls after her. “I’m as coordinated as the most athletic breed of... cat!” Cats are coordinated, right? 

He wouldn’t know, he never owned one. 

He wishes he owned a cat, but Louis insisted on a damn turtle. 

Isabel snorts a chuckle. “Yeah, okay!” 

“You doubt me?”

“I doubt you.”

“Madam, now you’ve wounded me!” 

“You’ll live.”

“Hey, while you’re over there, let Geoff go for a swim, too! He hasn’t done that in a while. He can scout for water walkers.” 

That earns him Isabel’s lovely middle finger. He presses a hand against his chest, pushing his lip out in a pretend pout. 

“Once again, she chooses the turtle over me.”

That makes Isabel laugh, shaking her head and giving a dismissive wave.  “We meet back in five!”

“Yes, ma’am!”

Hugo watches her briefly, taking in the sight of her walking along the shore, stepping over pieces of broken wood and rocks. Her loose top flutters with the rustling wind against the curve of her waist and a strange tingle of emotion cause him to pause.

A lifetime ago, Hugo and Isabel walked along a beach. 

Much cleaner than this one with a much prettier sight. Along the shores of Makena Beach, they walked together barefoot. Isabel wore a dress she bought in one of the shops, one that fluttered in the wind the same exact way her shirt does now. 

She was young, her hair long, curls big and windblown.

Pregnant, about seven weeks along.

“Shit,” Hugo mumbles. 

He wonders what the state of Hawaii is, if their walker population is great or not. 

Not that it matters. 

There’s no way he’ll make it to those shores ever again, much less walk along them with Isabel and Louis. 

He always thought about bringing Louis back there, too. 

After he graduated high school, Hugo wanted to bring him to look at the colleges. He’d get into the best school they had to offer, of course, because Louis was a straight A student- when properly motivated- and there he’d get his degree while studying the culture and history of Hawaii and its people, land a damn good job and make a name for himself. 

He can just see his boy now. Tall and handsome with his mother’s eyes and a beautiful smile... happy and satisfied with his life. 

Louis would fall in love with a pretty girl, propose to her, and have a gorgeous wedding on the beach. They’d have a handful of kids, too. Hugo would be more than happy to become a grandfather. 

A grandfather... babysitting Louis’ children while he and his lovely wife went out on date nights...

Hugo rubs his eyes along the sleeve of his shirt, sighing. 

Nostalgic for what never was, he supposes. 

They need to find that school, Hugo thinks. No matter what, once they’re done here- after they’ve scavenged some useful supplies- they’ll head back to the train station to look for a map. 

They couldn't find one earlier, but maybe they didn’t look hard enough. They only really looked around to make sure it wasn’t someone else’s home, then headed back this way to check out the wreckage Hugo spotted. 

They have to be close, closer than they’ve ever been. From the faintest part of his memory, he remembers the road being long and yet hard to find. He had to pay attention to the road signs, but his concentration was more than unfocused with Louis silently fuming in the backseat. 

“You’re only staying for a year, or until we can... until we can sort some things out.”

“...”

“You’ll have a dorm with a roommate. Mr. Davidson told me he’s a good kid, he just... fell down a wrong path, so I don’t want to get any calls about you mistreating him.”

“...”

“This isn’t going to be like your other school. You will be respectful to your roommate, your classmates, and your teachers. No excuses, no exceptions. Understand?”

“...”

“Louis, answer me when I’m talking to you.”

“...”

Hugo glances back at the boat. 

He hopes there’s something to gain from doing this, but at the very least, he got to see an old-timey riverboat like this up close. Little things..

Hugo pays another look to Isabel as she inspects a piece of soggy wood before pushing away from the boat to move along the pier. Over the edge, the corner of what looks to be a crate sticks up. Dropping down to his knees with a slight wince- damn leg!- Hugo rolls up his sleeves, sinking his hands in the chilled water. 

Thoughts of the cool waves crashing against the shores of Makena Beach haunt him, memories of swimming and laughing and kissing-

“Shit,”  Hugo finds a good grip on the crate and yanks. “Knock it off-”

It barely budges, caught on something. 

He tries again, grunting at the horrible pull in his back. A shock jolts through his bad leg, making him bite the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from yelping. Letting go, he adjusts his position.

“There’s nothing over here!” Isabel calls. “Just garbage!”

With a better, firmer grip, Hugo pulls. The crate loosens, lifting up out of the water. 

“Damn it…” Hugo gives an exasperated sigh. 

It’s empty and broken, it’s bottom missing. Whatever goods filled it are nowhere to be found. 

“Damn, damn, damn,” he mutters, standing to rub his dripping hands along his pants, kicking the useless crate back into the water. “Double damn.” 

He opens his mouth to shout out a complain, but sees Isabel down closer to the water, her open bag beside her. Grinning to herself, she holds onto Geoff as he moves through the water. 

Hugo thinks to make a joke both to tease her and make himself feel better about his lack of findings, but decides against it. Instead, he soaks in the sight of her content smile. 

Moving along the pier, he calls out, “Hey, got a question for you!”

“No!” 

Hugo laughs.

“You ever think about growing your hair out again?”

Isabel’s face scrunches up in a way that tells Hugo that’s a dumb question, nearly losing her grip on Geoff. 

“You seriously asking me that?” she shakes her head. “Hair like that is nothing but a death trap! Remember back in Peach Creek? Damn walker nearly took a chunk out of my neck! Not only that, but it got its nasty fingers all stuck in it and there was skin and puss and-ugh!”

“Oh shit, that’s right,” Hugo grunts, bending back down along the hardwood to fish out a piece of clothing- a sleeve of a denim jacket. “That was a nice place.”

A nice place, indeed, but one of many that almost killed them.

One of the worst moments in their lives happened while staying with the group at the Peach Creek Clinic. 

The people there were sympathetic to their dire situation. After losing their vehicle to a bunch of selfish assholes, barely having anything to their names aside from pictures of Louis and his clothes, the group took them in. 

It seemed secure at the time, with a small group and plenty of medical supplies. Scarce food, though. Hugo and Isabel might’ve stayed there longer but anxiousness about getting to West Virginia sent them back on the road after another incident with walkers breaking in. 

Half the group perished during that attack.  They’re both lucky Hugo was there to take care of the walker before it got to her, but he couldn’t stop it from getting it’s fingers stuck and tangled in Isabel’s curls. 

She was hysterical, tears dripping down her bruised cheeks as Hugo cut out chunks of hair to get the damn hand out. Bodies of their fallen friends surrounded them, and he thought they both might pass out.

When he tried to pick out the remaining pieces of rotten flesh and bone all while attempting to comfort her, Isabel insisted that they just cut it all off. 

One of the survivors- shit, what was her name? Yolanda, maybe? Rhonda?- did a nice, clean shave of her head. Short and close to her scalp, nothing for anyone to grab. 

They left the next morning. The survivors at the clinic were understanding and kind enough to send them with a bag of medical supplies they were able to spare, and fish food for Geoff, since all the fish within the lobby tank was no longer around. 

Through the shallow water closer to shore, the falling sunlight gleams off of something stuck in the sand. 

“Ah-ha!” Hugo grins, ignoring the pain in his knee as he shifts into a better position. Rolling up his sleeve, he reaches in to dig through the mushy sand. His thumb brushes something firm. 

“Why?” Isabel asks, kicking at another piece of wood on her way back towards the pier. Geoff drips in her hands, merry after spending time in the water. “What brought that on?”

“Was thinking about Hawaii,” Hugo winces, leaning further down into the water, fully submerging his arm. 

“Hawa- Hey! What are you doing-?”

“Ah!” Hugo flings himself back, victorious with a muddy knife in his hand. “Ah-ha! Got it!” 

“Huh, look at that,” Isabel says. 

“Told’ja we’d find something useful. You can never have too many knives,” Hugo grins, pulling a rag from his pocket to wipe the mud away. With a dull, scratched to hell blade, the knife will be just as effective in killing walkers as any other weapon. 

“Well, I’ll give it to you,” Isabel says, “a knife is much more than what I found over there.”

“Maybe you weren’t looking hard enough,” Hugo smirks, which dies when he notices Geoff's perpetual glare fixated on him. A childish impulse to stick his tongue out at the damned creature overwhelms him. He bites it back and returns the glare.

“That’s not long enough to help us grab the crates.”

“There wasn’t anything over there?”

"A couple planks of wood,” Isabel shrugs. 

“We don’t need anything fancy, just something long enough to push the crates towards us.”

Isabel looks to the bright sky, searching for any sign of evening coming upon them. They have plenty of daylight left, but Isabel’s patience is running out, replaced with anxiety. She sets Geoff down on the ground. 

“Watch him, I’ll grab the one I was looking at.” 

“Watch him?” Hugo frowns, pointing at Geoff with his brand new knife. “Where’s he gonna go?”

Geoff glowers up at him, beady black eyes slitted and neck extended up towards him. 

Hugo leans down, whispering, “Hey buddy, have you ever heard of caouane, by chance?”

---

They’re a cheery duo, ain’t they?

Thomas smirks. 

Hidden among the greens with a shoulder leaning against the sticky bark of a tree, Thomas listens to their bickering. Can’t make out much, unfortunately, but he’s got the gist. Almost reminds him of how he and Julie would talk long ago. Julie was meaner than the girl- what the hell is that she’s carrying?- but that don’t matter now. 

Julie’s dead and it’s just Thomas and the beauty in his hand, fully loaded and itchin’ to be fired. 

Not that he’s going to go up and shoot the strangers. 

They ain’t dangerous from what he can tell- the girl’s got a fire in her but the man’s got a limp. 

He don’t know what they’re looking for in the wreckage. Maybe they’re hoping to find some of the kids, but there’s no way this is where they’d hide. No, those kids got ‘em selves a school around here somewhere, even if he and these two don’t know where it is.

But, from the sounds of it, they got an idea and sometimes, that’s enough. 

Thomas knows that if he scours these woods long enough, he’ll find the school. The problem is would he find it before these two did? He don’t know how many kids there’ll be, but he knows that if they got two capable adults on their side, then things won’t go as smoothly.

Especially if these two actually find their kid.

Thomas scoffs. 

Bunch of twits. 

What makes ‘em think they got a chance of seeing their kid again? He’d bet his lucky dollar that their kid is roaming around here as one of the dead if he’s not already in a shallow grave.

Hell, maybe they will find him. Their little baby boy, gaunt, rotten insides with hollow eyes and a hunger for flesh… charging at them with not an ounce of recognition… and even as they’re begging him to stop, screaming, “Stop, it’s us! It’s your mommy and daddy, son! Remember us? Remember us-”

No, he don’t remember nothing. The dead don’t remember.

The kid’ll just keep scurrying towards ‘em… arms held out and jaw slack. 

Maybe they’ll be so distraught that they just let their kid chew ‘em both up.

Together. Undead.

The gun is heavy in his hand. 

Quiet laughter.

Thomas, fingers wrapped painfully tight around his gun, squints back over at the pier.

They’re trying to get something out of the wreckage, using a long chunk of wood to do so. Thomas leans up, attempting to get a better look at ‘em. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out an old pair of glasses. Not his prescription, but he ain’t the picky type. Though they’ll bring on a mean headache later, they help him get a better look at the couple still struggling to get something out of the boat. 

Down on their hands and knees, they work together to fish out whatever’s in there all while engaging in jovial chatter.

Pretty girl, Thomas thinks. Real nice shape. 

Times like these he wishes he’d find himself a pair of binoculars. 

Raspy groans emit from his right. A pair of walkers trod along, interested in all the commotion being made along the shore. 

Just in time. 

More’ll be coming here pretty quick- he saw a whole handful of them about a mile away, mingling together in search of something to tear their teeth into. He whistled at ‘em, then took off back to where he is now. He’s lucky these two ain’t quick in their accomplishments. 

A walker- male, wearing a heavy coat and missing his left eye- hisses through his unhinged jaw as he crawls closer to where Thomas hides. 

He ain’t worried about it. The more walkers that come, the better. 

Ducking down lower, ignoring the age-old ache forever lining his back, he moves closer. Already the strain of his sight through the glasses brings on a fuzzy twinge behind his right eye. 

“I got it, just need to-”

“Careful-”

Behind this tree, he can actually make out most of what they’re saying now.

“On three, alright?” the man says. 

Together, they grunt out, “One… two… three!”

Thomas almost applauds. They managed to find something in the wreckage, and from the looks of it, that something is a crate. Well, he’ll be darned. 

What else could be floating around in that thing? Thomas never paid it much mind upon first discovery- he wasn’t ever going to explore it. Not worth getting his boots wet, that’s for damn sure. 

Also, he ain’t the best swimmer. 

Let ‘em do the grunt work. He can come back and look through it later. 

“See?” The man says, resting a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Fully intact.”

“Don’t celebrate until we get it open.” 

“Really eager to see these toy cars, huh?” 

“If there are actually toy cars in here, I’m going to strangle you.” 

The man laughs, throwing a playful elbow towards the girl’s shoulder. 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Thomas raises an interested brow. 

“Don’t be gross,” the girl laughs. 

“You’re right, sorry. I wouldn’t want to talk dirty in front of Geoff.”

Geoff? There ain’t no one else around...

“As if we haven’t scarred him enough in the past,” the man adds.

“Just shut up and open the damn thing so we can go.”

Another gurgle, this time closer. Thomas slinks back further into the bushes, breathing slowly, silently. He’s confident none of the walkers’ll find him. They’re as stupid as dirt with no actual hunting skills, thankfully. 

Thomas can’t imagine anyone would’ve made it as far as they have if the damned dead were smarter than the living. 

Then again, lots of folks are dead. 

Grabbing a heavy-duty rock from beside his foot, Thomas eyes the walkers moving past him. They’re foul, both in appearance and odor. Looks like they got torn apart real good when alive, too, given their shredded clothes and chunks of flesh torn from their arms and waist. 

The one-eyed walker crawls past.

What a way to go, Thomas thinks as he chucks the rock towards the shore, sending it crashing into one of the larger boulders with an echoing crack.

 It draws everyone's attention, the walkers practically wheezing with glee- well, Thomas likes to imagine they’re gleeful to have something to sniff out.

The couple jumping to their feet. 

“Ah, fuck!”

“What the hell was- Oh shit-!” 

The walkers approach the shore, quicker now that they have a meal to pursue. 

Thomas checks the chamber of his fully loaded gun. 

---

Hugo almost had it. 

With his knife jammed along the side of the lid, he was ready to pop it off victoriously.

A startling crack broke his concentration, causing him to lose his grip. The knife slips from the crack and jerks, slicing into the muscle below his thumb.

“Ah, fuck!” Hugo cries out, dropping the knife to cradle his bleeding hand. Blistering pain shocks through his fingers and up his arm. 

“What the hell was- Oh shit-” Isabel reaches out for his arm, holding on with a death grip.  “Walkers!” 

“What?” 

The crate before him forgotten, Hugo whips around.

A group of walkers head down the shore, each groaning and moving as fast as their decaying bodies can carry them. 

What? 

Where the hell did they come from? They made sure to scour the woods from the train station to the boat and take care of any straggling walkers that stood in their way. There weren’t that many. The most they had to deal with were along the shores. 

“There wasn’t a single walker for miles,” Hugo exclaims. “Where the hell did they come from?”

“Don’t know,” Isabel says, staring up at him with wide eyes. She does a double-take when she notices the blood dripping from his hand. “Oh my god, Hugh, what the hell?”

“I’m fine, I slipped. It's just a scratch-”

“A scratch? Seriously?” She grabs his hand, inspecting the wound with wide eyes. "Bullshit, a scratch!"

“Forget it,” Hugo grabs the rag from his belt and ties it around his hand. “There’s only five of them. Nothing we can’t handle-”

“There isn’t only five, look!”

She’s not wrong- on their right, more come hobbling out of the woods. 

Hugo looks from the approaching walkers, down to the unopened crate, down to his bleeding hand. He winces, picking his knife back up. 

“We can handle them.”

“We could handle them if they didn’t already see us!”

“I’ll take the ones on the left-”

“Hugh, we gotta go! Forget the damn crates, they’re not worth dying for. Not now!”

Damn it...

"We're not risking everything!"

She pulls him forward with her down the pier, their boots clanking loudly against the worn wood, making the walkers perk up more. 

Isabel jumps over the side, splashing in the shallow water in hopes of cutting across the shore and into the woods before the walkers get any closer. An easy plan Hugo could follow if it weren’t for the three walkers emerging from their intended destination, blocking their path.

A nasty growl from his right sent Hugo whipping around. A walker- a woman with an exposed neck and chest cavity, missing clumps of hair from beneath her hat- hurries towards him. 

Fuck it. 

Hugo surges forward, grabbing the sticky bones of the walker's throat. The knife plunges through the side of its head with ease, and the walker falls to the ground. Hugo lets out a shaky breath, grunting out at the searing pain throbbing in his hand, painful enough to cause spots in his vision. 

“Hugo, I swear to Christ- don’t you dare get that hand-” Isabel kicks the shin of another walker. It falls to its knees, the perfect height for her to stab it through the head before sending the limp body crashing into yet another walker. A chain reaction of the force causes three of the walkers to fall back. 

“Use your gun,” Isabel tells him, attacking those fallen monsters as fast as she can.

“That’ll just attract more!” 

“So what? Kill these bastards so we can make a run for it!”

That’s assuming that he can successfully kill all of them, which he can’t with his last five bullets. 

There’s more than five left. 

More than ten, maybe. 

He can’t count. 

Where the fuck did they come from? He knows they weren't loud enough to attract this many. 

A walker with one eye crawls along the sand, grabbing at his ankle to gnaw on his boot. This knife breaks its skull with a sickening crack, the odor enough to churn his stomach. 

“Hugo, now!” Isabel shouts, stabbing another walker and pushing through. 

Hugo tries to follow. 

Even in its final death, the walker's grip remains strong on his ankle. He stumbles right into the grip of a heavyset walker, this one much younger, fresher compared to the decaying monsters- stronger.

A full set of rotten teeth snap at him. With his forearm pressed firmly against the chest of the monster, Hugo reaches back to grab his gun from its holster.

The shot rings in his ears, rattling his brain as gore explodes through the back of the walkers head. The earth swerves beneath his feet, acids in his stomach rise into his throat. He coughs, spitting into the dirt. 

Through nausea, Hugo aims. 

Another two shots- two walkers fall to the ground, motionless. 

A third. 

A fourth- fuck. 

Hugo lets off his final shot, hitting a walker struggling with Isabel. Seeing it’s no longer a threat, Isabel grabs onto it, heaving it towards another and sending them crashing. She’s by his side again, huffing, “Let’s go!”

Hugo nods.

He has no idea where the fuck these things came from, or how they showed up so suddenly, but he knows she’s right- whatever the hell is in that crate isn’t worth there lives, not when they’re so close-

“Shit!”

A hand grabs his backpack, jerking him backward. The foul stench of the walker's breath warms his ear and everything within Hugo runs cold. He throws an elbow, twisting himself around in the walker's embrace. 

He doesn’t see the fallen walker behind him. 

They both tumble to the ground. The gun slips out of his grip. 

“Hugo!”

A sixth shot.

The walker's blood splatters across Hugo’s face, and for a moment, he thinks he’s dead. The body slouches over him, unmoving.  

A seventh shot- an eighth- 

Isabel grabs the walker by its shirt, hauling it off of him before dropping to her knees. Her hands move all over him as she gasps out, “Holy shit, please, oh please, tell me you’re okay!” 

Several more shots fire, and one by one, the remaining walkers fall. 

Then there’s silence. 

Hugo reaches for his gun, scooping it up from the dirt before Isabel helps him up. He falls forward onto his bad knee. 

“Augh!”

“Sorry- c’mon-!”

Finally on his feet, Hugo surveys the area. 

All the dead are just that- fallen on the ground. 

“Are-” Hugo coughs “-are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” Isabel shakes her head, narrowed eyes darting all around the forest. “Pissed off, but fine.” Without taking her sight off the forest, she slips her backpack off to glance inside. “Geoff’s okay, too.”

Terrific.

Because Hugo was so worried. 

Isabel leans down, whispering, “Hugh… someone’s here.”

He assumed so. 

The walkers didn’t shoot themselves. 

“Give me your gun.”

Hugo cocks his head to murmur in her ear, “We’re out of bullets.”

“He doesn’t know that.” 

The snapping of wood and rubber against rocks turns their attention back to the woods where a man walks out, waving over at them with a grin.

“Howdy!” he calls out, voice gruff and accent thick. 

Isabel snatches the gun from his hand before Hugo has a chance to protest, pointing it and stopping the man in his tracks. 

“That’s close enough!” 

“Woah, woah,” the man holds his hands up in surrender, though keeps his grip on his gun just as tight.  

“Belle-” Hugo warns, but the man chuckles lightly. 

“Didn’t mean to scare ya. I mean no harm! Heard the gunshots and saw y’all were havin’ some trouble, thought I’d lend a helpin’ hand. You folks alright?” 

Isabel doesn’t lower the gun, keeping her eyes fixated on the man as he cautiously continues to walk over.

“We’re fine,” Hugo answers. “Fine, no bites, just a little startled. Thanks for the help.”

“We could’ve handled it,” Isabel adds. “Thanks.”

The man nods, saying, “No, you look plenty capable, didn’t mean to say ya don’t. Just didn’t want to see any more folks die, y’know? Not when I could do the decent thing and help.”

He’s close now, close enough for Hugo to better make out the details of his graying, ginger beard and bald head. He pulls his glasses off and pockets them with his free hand, blinking rapidly as he grins. 

“Name’s Thomas,” he greets. “Nice to meet’cha.”

[pbandjesse]

I keep gagging. Why. Ugh. Today was a really good day and i dont like feeling bad at the end of it!

I woke up around 7:30. My alarm clock scared me but it's okay. I got dressed and I felt pretty good. I said sweet pea and got him in his carrier. I decided to leave a little bit early just in case since I was going somewhere I didn't know very well. I walk to the bus stop and I went to wait for the purple. To Silver's in a green went past. And that's when Google decided to update that I should have taken this over. And then nothing came for 20 minutes. I was going to be late to this appointment and I was so upset. Sweet Pea was crying and everything was the worst. Finally a bus came right on time. It was the latest one I could have taken but I only got there a couple minutes late. I called and they were okay with it. I still felt stupid. I hate being late.

But we talked to the vet and they were really nice. Got off sweetpeas information and and they said it's the same allergy he had before. He's going to be on steroids for a couple weeks before he can get any vaccines or anything. Get this lip all healed up. But he did a really good job. I have very good cat.

We got some compliments on his wheelie bag carrier on my way out. Everyone know where I bought it. And then we walk down the street. Stop at CVS to get a couple things and then waited for the bus which was much more on time this go around.

I got back to my neighborhood and stop at the grocery store. Sweet Pea still strapped on my back. And then back to the apartment. I have a snack and did some cleaning. Worked on some stuff. But soon enough it was time to go again. I loaded up the tooth sculpture and the fan for the BMI and walked to the dentist office. I almost dropped everything but it all was fine. The dentist loves the tooth and they posted all over social media. So that was really cool.

I went down to the Harbour next. James is having his lunch out on the pier so I sat with him for a little bit and then said goodbye and biked up to the museum.

I got there and got the fan setup. I had to duct tape the bottom of it so that it wouldn't fall off the base. But I think everyone is just going to be glad to have a little bit of air flow. I got a whole bunch of compliments on my outfit today. Including from a toddler who said that my outfit was very cute. Made me smile. And soon enough we were leaving for our field trip.

We went to the Lillie Carroll Jackson Civil Rights Museum. And it was fabulous. We had a 2 hour guided tour with the seven of us. First one we got there there was a sculpture outside. I had never been to Eutaw place before and I'm kind of obsessed. Thus Francis Scott Key sculpture blew me away. Just the mixed colors in metals and materials was incredible. I wish the fountain part was still working because it was so cool.

The Museum of strange. Not in the inside but on the outside because there's no sign. Just a little plaque. I wasn't even sure we were in the right place but it turns out it's the woman's home. And Morgan State University helped redo the museum in 2016. And it's gorgeous. Everything was set up so well. And I knew my mom would absolutely die she would love it so much. So I spent pretty much the whole 2 hours taking pictures of every single piece of signage they had so that I could send them to my mom and she can kind of get a virtual tour. I was able to talk to the story I didn't tell her what my mom does for the Bucks County African American Arts Council and then at the end of the tour we walked in her room and the picture of the woman on the wall look exactly like my mom. Maybe not exactly but I I was taken aback when I saw it. I sent it to my mom right away and she agreed. And then the door guide agreed as well and wants my mom to come be a re-enactor. So that was very funny. I definitely gave them the information for the group my mom works with and my mom's going to try to track them down on Facebook so that was really cool. But honestly today was just really moving in the museum was beautiful and the tour was amazing. I'm really glad I got to go. It was really important for me to be there. I learned a lot.

We left there and Mike gave me another woman to ride back to the museum. It probably should have checked where the museum was that we visited today before I was in the car because it was literally four blocks from my apartment. So I went a mile and a half away to the museum to go right back to my apartment in the back again but it all worked out because I wanted to go to the dollar store anyway.

Once we got back to the BMI I got my bike and went over to the dollar store. I got things for the party on Saturday and then I went back down to the harbor to meet up with James. But I was feeling some sick all of a sudden and he wanted me to wait an hour until he was done but I just wanted to go home and I had to stop at the art store and it was a whole thing. He teased me but I kind of got some kind of feeling about it. Not that anything he did it's just kind of my own issue. So I went home.

I stopped at the art store for a minute to get black spray paint to fix the white trunk I found yesterday. And once I got back here I cooled off and felt a little bit better. James came and helped me take the trash out and then I was going to go with him to his apartment because the bras I bought have been delivered there.

But of course it started to absolutely poor once we left the house. Like awful sideways giant drops of rain. And of course it only rained for the 15 minutes it took to walk from my apartment to his apartment. We both got soaked. It was awful. But we got inside and we heated up some food. And I think it helped both of us feel a little bit less horrible.

I hung out until 9. Some of his D&D people came over for half group game. And Lane was there and so I could give her her new Shelby. She named them raspberry. And just the joy she was having playing with it was so sweet. I'm really glad I got to be there for it. And it turned out that the other guy in the group's girlfriend, who was there, also has Shelby's and Furbies. She's not into the community. But she has them for when she was a kid and they all still work. She was very funny. I think neither of us knew what to do with information of talking to someone who also knows about this stuff so that was a little bizarre but it was cool.

But my phone was dying and I wanted to get home before it was too dark. So I left and walk back here.

I got a shower and I put away the new bras and stuff. I started packing a bag for tomorrow because we're going to go to Beaver Dam to swim. And now I'm just chilling in bed with sleepy. It was chewing on my blankets. Like a monster. I think I'm going to go get something to snack on because I'm having like acid reflux or something. I don't know. I might just go to sleep. I'm looking forward to tomorrow. We may or may not be going with James's sister or some friends or something. But either way I'm looking forward to a nice day. Hope you all have a great night. Sleep well.

[kyliehorsegirl]

All’s Fair in Love and War (Duncan Shepherd x Reader)

A/n: O wow the elusive Kylie comes out from hiding, is it spring? I am so so so sorry I have been MIA. School, work, life and writer’s block. 

This was a request I got a month or so back for a Duncan x reader romeo and juliet style. this is very long and very fluffy. I hope you enjoy!!

I will get back into the swing of things! Fear not, love you all.

*********************************************

The Shepherds and the Underwoods were the most elite group of families in the Country. After several generations of war, the two parties decided to come together in union. The current reining families would marry off their children to each other. The Shepherds presented their son, Duncan while the Underwoods presented their daughter, Y/n. In one year’s time, the two were to be wed, ending the years of war between them.

 Y/n was a young and beautiful girl, always adorned in the finest gowns, money could buy, at least that’s what her parents wanted for her. Despite what her family wanted, she was a simple girl. She spent her time wandering the forest and drawing things in nature that made her happy. Y/n was very found of music, taking up the piano, violin and the clarinet. Her talents were beyond the recognition she got for them. Most people didn’t know she was Perficient at multiple instruments and no one knew she could draw.

 Duncan, an extremely handsome man was secretive and mysterious. He was a bit of a rebellious youngster. He would argue the system, causing difficulty for his parents. He had taken up poetry as a small hobby, of course, his parents would think it was something rather un-masculine. Instead of letting the world know of his hobby, he would take charge in organizing his family’s events and galas. Some of Duncan’s other hobbies consisted of playing the cello and painting portraits.

 Both families were made up of extremely talented members. The Underwoods currently reigned in the region, while the Shepherds were Dukes and Duchesses of the highest order. It only made sense for them to come to a union. Their decision of a union came on the day of Y/n’s 21st birthday, when she truly became a woman. Duncan, who was a few years older was notified of the union on the same day.

 “Mother, I don’t see why I have to wed the Underwood girl.” Duncan said, making notes for their upcoming gala, Y/n’s birthday to be exact. The kingdom was invited to the Underwood castle for Y/n’s 21st birthday, which was being held the weekend she turned of age. The day of her real birthday is when The Shepherds announced to their son of his new engagements.  King and Queen Underwood along with Duke and Duchess Shepherd, had been discussing the union for quite sometime now. It wasn’t until now that they announced to their children that they were soon to wed.

 “Duncan, watch your tongue. You should be honored to wed the princess for a union. She will be a good wife as you shall be a good husband.” Duchess Annette said to him, sipping her wine as she gazed out onto their balcony. They had a beautiful view of the Kingdom, the Underwood castle painted into the view.

 “I barely know her mother. We barely interact, I haven’t seen her for quite sometime now anyway.” Duncan had rolled his eyes, undenounced to his mother. He continued to write out plans for the gala’s festivities.

 “Oh, Duncan don’t be crass. It’s not uncommon for our kind to be arranged, but this arrangement to unify our two regions. This is crucial for the kingdom. You know how long our families have been at war, we are trying to be better than our ancestors.” Annette sighed and walked over to Duncan, her long garnet robe glided across the marble floor. She sets her wine down on the oak table and rests a hand on Duncan’s chair, leaning down to give a kiss to his cheek.

 “Yes mother, I know, but do I not get a say?” He sets his pen down and turns to her, waiting intently. She smiles with a small chuckle.

 “No, love you darling.” She picks up her wine once more, exiting the room. He leans back in his chair and roughly runs his hands through his hair, groaning in displeasure.

 *

“Mother! You can’t be serious! The Shepherd boy?” Y/n threw her hands in the air, pacing the room as her mother sat at one of the thrones with her legs crossed and a bored expression on her face.

 “Oh, please Y/n, this is no time for childish behavior, Duncan is a handsome boy, he will make a fine husband.” Claire said, shaking her head at her daughter.

 “A fine husband? I don’t even know him! Who cares how handsome he is? What’s the point if I don’t even know him?” Y/n stomped throughout the room with anxiety.

 “You are being ridiculous. This union has been in the works for quite some time now. Joining our regions is good for the kingdom. Our previous generations made the mistake of fighting with the Shepherds. This will prove beneficial to the trade market and war alliances.” Claire got up to stop her daughter’s pacing form. She grabbed her by her shoulder, making Y/n faced her.

 “I just turned 21 Mother. Why can’t I just live my life?” Y/n asked her mother with defeat. Claire searched Y/n’s face until her eyes were at attention.

 “Because, aside from the obvious Y/n? You are a princess and it is your duty to help better your kingdom.” Her mother’s advice gave no reassurance. Her head hung in defeat. As her mother let go, she made her way to the balcony, the beautiful forest a greenery painted her vision like a piece of art and off in the distance was the Shepherd Manor.

 *

The eve of her birthday gala, Y/n sat in her boudoir being pampered by servants. She tried to shoo them away, insisting she could take care of herself.

 “Milady, please let us serve you, not only is it your birthday gala, but it is what we are her for. To serve.” One of the girls said, smiling genuinely. The poor thing only knew the servant life. Y/n wished for nothing more, than to treat the girl herself, or at least give her the means to leave the servant life.

 “Dahlia, please. You’ve done so much as it is, I don’t want to bother you.” Y/n looked at her reflection in sadness, before turning her gaze downward, suddenly more interested in her lap.

 “It’s your birthday. We live to serve you princess, it is our purpose.” The girls excitedly prepared her for an evening of festivities. They painted her face, up did her hair and dressed her in the most exquisite gown.

 She looked at herself in the floor length mirror. She was wearing deep ocean blue dress, strapless with a sweetheart neckline, attached to the back off the dress was a royal blue chiffon cape. Her hair was curled in a half up half down do with a small tiara, placed ever so precisely atop her head. Her eyes were dark like the night sky and her lips were as nude as her skin. Y/n stared at herself, so long that the girls asked if she was ok.

 She didn’t recognize herself. She was simple. If it were up to her, she would wear a loose-fitting top and some comfortable pants. Her maids help escort her to the top of the stair case, in preparation to descend into the ballroom.

 *

Duncan was casually sipping a strong liquor, waiting in boredom for the princess’s appearance. All of the subjects of the kingdom had mingled casually. Claire and her husband, and Annette and her husband, interacted to pass the time.

 Two men stood at either side of the staircase, they blew their trumpets to acquire the attention of everyone in the ball room. Their conversations silenced. Bodies turned and eyes gazed up upon the staircase.

 Another man appeared in the middle, dressed in a tailcoat and breeches.

 “Presenting, her royal highness, Princess Y/n Underwood.” He bowed and moved to the side as the trumpets blew once more. Y/n appeared at the top of the stairs, audible awes bounced through the open air.

 She began descending the stairs carefully, her head held high despite her current feelings. Duncan’s eyes were wide as he followed her every move down the steps. ‘Has she always been this beautiful?’ He thought to himself. She was absolutely gorgeous. He found himself speechless at the very sight of her.

 She nodded and greeted everyone that came up to her, wishing her a happy birthday, what a great gala. She made her way to her parents and the Duke and Duchess.

 “Y/n darling, don’t you look wonderful.” Annette smiled at her giving her hand a hold and a kiss to her cheek.

 “Thank you, Duchess, that means a lot coming from you.”  Y/n’s smile partially fake and partially real.

 “Oh, please Y/n, no need for formalities I’m going to be like your second mother soon!” She exclaimed giddily. Y/n did her best to hide the grimace on her face.

 “Speaking of Duncan, where is your son? I wanted to tell him what a marvelous job he’s done on the gala.” Claire said, bringing Annette’s attention to her.

 “I thought I just saw him, he- “As if his ears were burning, Duncan appeared at his mother’s side.

 “Hello, I’m sorry to keep you all. I was just checking on how things were going.” His deep voice right at Y/n’s ear, sending a shiver down the back of her neck. She kept her head down, not looking at him yet. Being in-tune to each other, Annette and Claire cleared their throats at their children in sync.

Y/n caught her mother’s correction, lifting her head to meet his eyes. Also understanding his mother’s minimal warning, he grabbed her hand and kissed the top of it.

 “Princess.”

 “My Lord.” They bowed and curtsied to each other before retreating quickly. The high families made their way to the head table. The Queen and Duchess seated in the middle, followed by the King and Duke and ending with Lord Duncan and Princess Y/n.

 The subjects enjoyed their dine, before Queen Claire stood and clinked her glass several times alerting her company that she had something to say. The sound of metal clinking against the fine china plates was put to a stop as all the attention was now on her.

 “My dear subjects, as you know we come together tonight to celebrate the 21st birthday of my daughter Y/n. Well, that is not the only reason we have gathered you all here tonight.” Y/n looked down, avoiding the looming gaze of hundreds of eyes on her.

 “For quite some time, the Underwoods and the Shepherds have had a historical quarrel. Times have changed, in effort to better our country as well as the kingdom and to move forward with alliances, Lord Duncan Shepherd, son of Duke and Duchess Shepherd, is to wed my daughter, Princess Y/n.” Annette stood up with Claire, grabbing her hand and raising it in the air.

 The subjects stood in applause and cheered. Y/n’s cheeks were pinched with a rose blush of embarrassment. The King and Duke stood as they ushered for the children to do the same.

 *

Upbeat classical music played, thanks to the talents of a live orchestra. The subjects danced in an outlined circle, while Y/n and Duncan’s parents ‘forced’ them to take their first dance as a newly courting couple. Duncan grabbed her hand, a little roughly holding it up in the air, as they made their way to the center of circling couples.

 He turned her to face him as they acknowledged each other. An opposite hand touched one another, walking in a circle. They faced once more, their hands clasped. His free hand to her waist and her free hand to his shoulder. They danced for quite some time before speaking.

 “You look beautiful tonight.” Duncan’s deep voice caught her attention.

 “Thank you, you did a wonderful job on the gala.” She offered a small smile.

 “Thank you.” Silence overcame them once more. What was there to say? Hello future husband, let’s talk about stuff? As simple as that seemed, it wasn’t for either of them. When the song ended, they pulled away from each other. Offering each other a smile.

 *

The party had ended and Y/n was keeping her distance from as many people as possible, especially Duncan. The servants had already started cleaning the ballroom as the Shepherds and Underwoods retired to a large sitting room. The parents were sitting at various lounge seats, sipping their wine. Duncan was standing at the balcony, drinking his liquor.

 Y/n was in her room, removing her tiara and dress, finding something simpler to wear. She chose a soft grey dress, nothing to heavy or fancy. She made her way into the sitting room.

 “Ah, there you are darling, we need to go over the arrangements.” Claire spoke up once Y/n entered the room. Y/n sighed and poured herself a drink.

 “Duncan come here, obviously this involves you too.” Annette spoke up. Duncan’s grip on his glass tightened, letting out a sigh he makes his way to sit at one of the couches.

 “Now, you two will be wed one year from now, until then you will court each other.” Claire said. “One month from now, Duncan will come to live with us. You two will be given your own wing in the castle, separate rooms of course.” She finished.

 “Duncan, it will give you enough time to gather your things and for Y/n to have time to get adjusted to your arrangement.” Annette spoke.

 “Do you two understand your duty to our country?” Claire spoke in all seriousness, the softness in her voice, gone and now stern.

 “Yes, mother.” Y/n said quietly.

 “Yes, your majesty.” Duncan says deeply.

 “It’s settled then. We look forward to your residency Duncan.” Claire spoke

 “Thank you, your majesty.” No one caught the bitterness, except Y/n. She knew he hated this just as much as her. Yet, she still felt a pang in her chest. Of hurt? Perhaps.

 *

The Shepherds began entering their carriage, the royal family waiting respectfully outside the castle, bidding them good bye.

 Y/n had gone to the stables for a late ride, in need of clearing her head. As she reached the long barn, she went to the stall that housed her black Friesian stallion, Allocer. She had spent time grooming him and braided his long mane. She threw her saddle on him and trotted him out of the barn before taking off at a gallop into the woods.

 Allocer was one of the fastest horses in the land, he was an import from the Netherlands, he was her pride and joy. She clicked to him encouraging him faster. The trees flew past her as his heavy hooves thundered against the forest floor.

 She didn’t realize she was crying until her salty tears stung the scratches on her face, whipped at her from the tree branches. She had eased him to a easy walk, patting his heavy shoulder. His thick breath was clouding up the air.

 Why did she have to be condemned to a life of solitude? In many ways, she was much like the servant girl, a servant to her people, to her country. The Underwoods and Shepherds had been at war for many years. Why now was there need of a Union? Why was it expected of her to marry a man she doesn’t know? This burden should rest on the shoulders of her parents, for they were the King and Queen as she was just a Princess.

 She took a longer trek home as she allowed Allocer to move at a steady walk, although, with his long stride he still managed to cover ground.

 After she had put him away, she retired to her room. She laid in bed, thinking of what is to come.

 *

It was the day that Duncan was to come live with them. Y/n paced throughout the castle with anxiety.

 “He is here Y/n, settle down and come greet him.” Claire called from the front door. Y/n slowly made her way down the steps. Duncan had been welcomed in by Claire, who embraced him in a hug. His servants were bringing in his luggage, heading up to Y/n and Duncan’s wing.

 “Hello Duncan.” Y/n smiled at him. He offered a small smile back.

 “Hey.”

 “Why don’t you show him to the room he will be staying in.” Claire gave a pointed look at Y/n.

 “Right this way Duncan.” He followed closely at her side.

 *

 “This is your room, mine is just down the way.” Y/n all but mumbled.

 “Thank you.” He bid her a goodnight and closed the door. Y/n stood just outside his door, staring, wondering, is this her life?

 *

 Day after day, it was the same routine. Breakfast, lunch dinner. Y/n and Duncan would sit awkwardly across from each other. Her mother and father would discuss the agenda for the day. Duncan and her hardly spoke to each other.

 One week, two weeks, one month went by. Still, hardly any words were spoken. Y/n know nothing about Duncan and Duncan knew nothing about her. Until late one evening.

 The day had been particularly difficult for Y/n, Duchess Shepherd and Queen Underwood bombarded Y/n with ideas on the wedding. What should the color scheme be? What flowers should they get? Question after question.

 Y/n clenched her jaw, humming along never giving a real answer. Claire and Annette talked as if she wasn’t there. It was her wedding, but it couldn’t even be her wedding? It was all so overwhelming. She didn’t know or even talk with her fiancé. Neither of them made an effort.

 Duchess Annette bid her son farewell and left. Duncan had retired in to his own room and Y/n’s parents left to their room as well.

 Her jaw clenched and unclenched with every step up the staircase. Her eyes watered, blurring her line of sight. She made her way to her room, quietly. She shrugged off her dress, throwing on a flowy top and riding pants. As she exited her room, she rubbed her eyes of the tears that burned them and grabbed a cloak.

 Duncan lay mindlessly on his bed, his balcony doors open wide, allowing for the cool evening breeze to kiss his skin tenderly. He is pulled from his thoughts as he hears a commotion down below. He gets up and makes his way to the balcony’s edge. He looks down seeing a large black steed running down the path into the woods, the princess atop him.

 Duncan was curious, he didn’t know she could ride, he had never seen her ride before. He promised himself he would stay awake until she was to return. He wanted to know about the horse and her riding.

 Allocer’s large hooves carried her fast along the path. Her eyes burned as fresh tears raced behind her. She slowed Allocer, hugging his large neck. She tangled her fingers in his long black mane.

 “I wish we could just leave this place Allocer.” She patted his large neck, sitting up straight. She walked home slowly as she had done in the past, dreading the return.

 She dismounted Allocer and walked him into the stable. She had put him away in his stall, when she heard a voice behind her.

 “I didn’t know you could ride?” A deep voice spoke. She screamed and turned towards the voice, hand clutching her heart.

 “You frightened me, what are you doing here?” She back up against the stall door.

 “I could as you the same. Why are you out so late?” His blue eyes twinkled with wonder. She looked him up and down, her brows furrowed.

 “I, I needed some air.” She locked the stall and walked towards the tack room, replacing the saddle and bridle in their spot. Duncan followed closely behind her.

 “Are you ok? Is something wrong.”

 “Why are you talking to me all of a sudden? You haven’t spoke this much to me before.” She questioned.

 “I heard a commotion and looked out the balcony to see you riding into the woods.” He titled his head with curiosity. “I ride too, we could ride together sometime?” He waited patiently and nervous for her answer.

 “I, that might be nice.” Y/n stared at him, confused. She turned and began to walk away. He trotted up next to her and held an arm out to her. She looked at it cautiously before she held the arm given to her.

 He stopped at her door.

 “Perhaps we could do something just the two of us tomorrow?” He looked at her with a new light. She was truly beautiful. She was rid of expense dresses, wearing her riding gear. He would never deny that he always thought she was beautiful.

 “I would like that.” She smiled carefully at him.

 *

 The next day, Duncan had planned a picnic in the garden. Servants brought a picnic basket to them as they sat atop a soft blanket in the middle of the garden. Rose hedges surrounded them and shielded them from everyone else.

 “So, I guess we should get to know each other?” Y/n asked as she took a bite of a strawberry.

 “Might as, well right?” He countered. She hummed in response.

 “Do you have any hobbies?” She started off.

 “I do, a few actually. I play cello, paint and don’t tell anyone this but I write poetry.” A small blush crept up his cheeks.

 “Poetry, really?” A small smirk played on her face.

 “Hey now, don’t make fun. What about you?” He smiled at her.

 “Well, I play a few instruments and I draw here and there.” She grabbed a piece of cheese and took a sip of her wine.

 “What instruments do you play?” Duncan took a sip of wine as well.

 “Piano, violin and clarinet.” Y/n smiled at him.

 “That’s amazing.”

 Their bond grew every day. Every day they found out more and more about each other. They always made plans to go outside and enjoy nature. One day she asked him to paint her and several hours later, there she was, her beautiful face painted onto a canvas.

 She found herself drawing him in her spare time. His features prominent in her sketch book. She found that he was rather funny and entertaining. He wasn’t the stoic and boring person she thought he was He made her laugh more than anyone had before.

 When Y/n came out of her shell, Duncan was quick to notice and he loved it. She was smart, beautiful and funny. She was such a strong person, she just needed time to shed those layers of insecurities and nervousness.

 They adored each other more and more with each passing day. This didn’t go unnoticed by Claire of Annette.

 “You know, your Duncan has really started taking a liking to Y/n.” Claire said with a genuine smile, taking a sip of her wine.

 “I’ve noticed. Of course, he doesn’t say anything to me or my husband, but we’ve noticed. It makes me happy.” Annette graced a smile herself.

 “I had felt bad for them initially, we never ask or want to be arranged, but in the end, we fall more in love with a person chosen for us rather than someone we find ourselves.” Claire said remorsefully.

 “I agree, I was very skeptical when I was arranged to the Duke. After lots of time, we got to know each other and grow together.” Annette looked off into the distance.

 *

Play “The Piano Duet” from Corpse Bride”

Annette and Claire made their way to the ballroom when hearing a beautiful sound echoing off the walls.

 *

Y/n sat at the piano in the large ball room. She began to play a melancholy tune. Duncan creeped in, he sat next to her and smiled, she gave a smile back. He played a few tunes of his own. She eyed him playfully, her fingers danced along the keys once more.

 They bounced off each other’s moment before joining together their fingers fought for dominance on the piano.

 Annette and Claire’s warm expression aimed at their children, their hearts enlightened at the sight of the two playing together.

 Nothing made the two mothers happier than to see their children grow closer and closer together. Duncan and the princess played until their fingers were tired. They smiled and laughed at each other as they played and played.

 The sound of the keys echoed beautifully in the ballroom, it was as if they were playing in a music hall.

 The two moms looked to each other before leaving their kids to themselves. When their song finally finished, Y/n sat there with her hands in her lap, smiling at the piano.

 “You know, that was really fun, you’re really good.” Y/n looked at him with a glint in her eyes, something different. Duncan’s blue eyes never left hers.

 “You, are incredibly beautiful. Your talent never ceases to amaze me.” Duncan smiled as he reached for her hand, holding it in his own. Y/ne looked to their hands, bringing her eyes back up to his.

 *

Y/n saddled up Allocer while Duncan tacked up a white Andalusian mare Nyx. They galloped out of the stable and into the forest.

 Duncan and Y/n raced the horses through the trees, fighting for first place. She laughed at him as she raced past him, the look on his face was priceless. He smirked as he urged the mare forward.

 They slowed the horses to a stop.

 “Ok, you win, your horse is very fast.” Duncan laughed, giving Nyx a heavy- handed pat on the neck. She shook her head as her long mane flipped back and forth.

 “Allocer is one of the fastest horses I know, but Nyx is a very close second. They both mean the world to me.” Y/n smiled, leaning down to give Allocer a hug.

 “I can see that, they are both beautiful animals. I am honored to be able to ride her.” His smile reached his eyes, warming Y/n’s heart.

 “Come on, I want to show you something.” With that she took off at a gallop.

 “Hey, wait!” Duncan urged Nyx to follow. They ran further and further until they came to a clearing. Y/n slowed Allocer to a stop. There was a wide-open view, they perched themselves at the top of the cliff looking out over the horizon.

 The sunset was painted across the sky, pinks, oranges and purples. Y/n grinned widely as she saw Duncan’s eyes wide with fascination.

 “It’s beautiful here.” He said immediately looking at her. He watched as the setting sun kissed her skin, shadows extenuating all the right features. She was beautiful.

 “I know, I love to come here. It’s one of my favorite places to be.” Her face was soft with content as she closed her eyes enjoying the warm light on her face.  She looked over to him, seeing all he could look at was her. His face was content, he was happy, at least that’s what she thought.

 “You’re beautiful.” Her eyes searched his for any inclining he was lying, her trust not quite his. She smiled shyly.

 “I think you’re just saying that.” She blushed.

 “No, I mean it, honest. I’m happy to have you as my fiancé. You are beautiful inside and out.” He saw how tender she had been to the animals, they were obviously important to her. The care she put into her instruments, he saw it all. With a small nod at each other they rode back.

 *

The pair grew closer and closer. Duncan dated her the way he wished he had the chance to in the beginning. After all that time together, they became best friends. They would take walks in the garden hands touching, but never holding.

 One instance in the garden however, he had plucked a single rose and handed it to her with a bow. She blushed as she took it gently from his hand, sparks. The spark she felt deepened her blush. As they continued their walk their hands got closer and closer. He gently opened her hand waiting to see if he was going too far, she slowly clasped her hand around his.

 Duncan’s smile grew, his heart was warm.

 *

They never walked the garden without being hand in hand. She slowly began to rest her head on his arm as they walked side by side. She stops and he turns to her. Their eyes locked in each other’s gaze. Duncan leans in slow and cautious. She carefully stretches to meet him in a kiss, their first kiss.

 *

On one of their rides Duncan and Y/n both said “I love you” at the same time, causing one another to blush and laugh.

 *

They were found laying on the couch together, Y/n in his arms. She would often fall asleep on his chest, in which he would wrap his arms around her in a protective hold.

 *

 One night, late one night. Y/n sauntered her way into Duncan’s room. This was the night they made love. It was soft and gentle. Of course, their parents didn’t know. It was forbidden. They loved each other. Their naked bodies tangled in each other’s grasp. The heat radiated to one another.

 *

“I want to take you somewhere.” Duncan said to Y/n.

 “O, is that so.” She said to him playfully. They rode out on their horses. Y/n recognized the place instantly, it was her favorite spot, the spot she took him to all those months ago.

 They dismounted their horses and looked out over the horizon.

 “I can never get tired of this view.” Y/n sighed with content, looking at the colors she was so familiar with.

 “Neither can I.” Duncan said knowingly. Y/n turns to him and gasps. Duncan is perched on one leg, a knew to the ground and a small black box in his hand.

 “Duncan!” She exclaimed.

 “I wanted to do this right. Y/n I loved you, more than anything. You have made happier than I have been in a long time. Y/n Underwood, will you continue to make me the happiest that I have ever been and be my wife?” There was a small plea in Duncan’s eyes.

 “Of course, I will marry you, I love you Duncan!” He smiled largely as he slid the sliver band on her finger. He picked her up and swung her around as she laughed and held him close.

 *

Duncan waited patiently at the altar. His nerves were starting to get the best of him. Almost half the kingdom had attended for this momentous occasion.

 He is almost brought to tears as he sees his best friend walking down the aisle. Adorned in a beautiful white dress that accented her figure. The train followed several feet behind her.

 As she met him face to face, she gave him the most genuine smile.

 “Dearly beloved-“ The priest was tuned out for the both of them as they stared deeply into each other’s eyes. The moment they came back to reality was when it was time to say I do.

 “Do you Duncan Shepherd take Princess Y/n Underwood to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold for as long as you both shall live?”

 “I do.” Duncan said.

 “Do you Princess Y/n Underwood take Duncan Shepherd to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold for as long as you both shall live?”

 “I do.” Y/n’s cheeks became sore with how wide she was smiling.

 “They I know pronounce you, husband and wife, you may now kiss the bride.” Duncan put a hand on Y/n’s waist and brought her into a deep kiss. The kingdom cheered for the newlyweds.

 *

And so, the arranged marriage between Underwood and Shepherd ended the centuries long dispute. The kingdom was at peace, finally.

 Duncan and Y/n lived happily ever after.

 The End.

*************************************

I hope you enjoyed! I’ll be writing more soon.

MASTERLIST

[choicesruinedmylife]

Serendipity (Seth x MC)

Pairing: Seth x Bella

Summer: Seth shows Bella a beautiful place in LA, feelings happen.

A/N: y’all I just got back to college and hopefully will have enough time to write more stories. I definitely have missed writing a lot during this holiday season and hope to use this as a way of relaxing. thank you all for your support!!! love you lots

serendipity (n.): the occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way.

Bella sat on top of the washing machine in the laundry room, waiting for her clothes to finish drying. She kicked her legs back and forth softly, her heels banging against the metal door. Mindlessly, she scrolled through Instagram before getting a text from Seth. 

Seth: What are you up to?

Bella: Laundry. Had absolutely no clothes left. 

Seth: How much longer is left? I have something to ask you and don’t want to walk all the way downstairs.

Bella: Just finished! Coming back upstairs :)

Bella quickly hopped off the machine and put all of her clothes in her laundry basket. She took the stairs two at a time, nearly breaking a sweat by the time she reached her apartment. Hoisting the basket onto her hip, she tried opening her door, cursing in frustration when it slammed shut as she tried to wedge her body through the small opening. 

“Dammit!” Putting the basket on the ground, she managed to open the door and put her back against it to keep it open while she dragged the basket inside. 

“Do you always have this much trouble doing laundry?” A voice spoke out from behind her, causing Bella to jump in fright. 

“Jesus Christ, Seth, a little warning before you just show up in my apartment! I know we gave each other keys and all but damn, I didn’t expect you to just be waiting here for me.” She put a hand over her chest and feigned shock, laughing softly as she saw him lounging on her couch with a bag of chips.

“So, if you’re bored of doing housework, why don’t I show you around the glorious city of Los Angeles.” Seth stood up from her couch and followed her to her bedroom. 

“See, I would love to but I am not about to go out in public in this.” Bella gestured to her paint-stained top and running shorts. 

“I think you look just fine.” 

“Sure you do.” She rolled her eyes and dumped the basket on her bed. 

“C’mon, Iowa. I’m begging you. You gotta see LA or you never will.” Seth dramatically sank to his knees, clasping his hands in front of his face. 

“You are impossible, you know that?” Bella shook her head, grabbing a couple articles of clothing out of the pile. “What’s the weather like today?”

“Warm and sunny but we will probably be out kind of late so wear pants and bring a jacket.” He turned around and walked into the living room so she could change in privacy. 

“YOU DO REALIZE YOU DIDN’T SHUT THE DOOR,” Bella yelled as she partially hid behind her bed to get dressed. She checked how she looked in her mirror and headed out to the living room. 

“C’mon, let’s get going.” She lightly tapped Seth on the head as she passed him on the couch, grabbing her purse and phone from the kitchen counter. 

They got into Seth’s normal car and Bella immediately began to ask him questions about where they were going. 

“Jesus, Iowa, can’t you be happy with a surprise?” He smiled widely at her, watching the wind whip through her wavy blonde hair. 

“No, I can’t.” Bella laughed and stuck her arm out the window. The feeling of the wind pushing against her arm reminded her of driving aimlessly, with her friends, through the backroads of Iowa on a summer day. In those moments, everything was perfect. For a brief moment, there were no responsibilities; there was nothing that could keep her from experiencing the feeling of being free. She realized that being with Seth, brought her this same feeling. The sound of him singing along to the country radio station, the way his eyes crinkled when the sun peeked through the buildings to warm their faces. 

“See something you like?” Bella quickly looked away, blushing fiercely when she realized she had been staring at him. 

“Uh, is this where we are going?” She stared up a giant hill at a large building. 

“Yep, this is the Griffith Observatory. You seem like someone who likes space so I brought you here first. Hope you brought shoes that are good to walk in!” Seth parked the car about halfway down the hill. 

“We have to walk all the way up?” Bella questioned him incredulously, her mouth open in shock. 

“Hey, it’s LA and I’m not about to pay $20 for parking but trust me, the view is gorgeous.” He grabbed her hand, lacing their fingers together and lead them up the walking path. 

Bella swore that she could feel her palms sweating as he held her hand. Sure, they were friendly in the privacy of their homes, leaning against each other as they watched TV, kisses on the cheek goodbye but she never expected to have such blatant physical contact with him in public. When they reached the top of the hill, she gasped in awe at the view. 

“It-it’s beautiful. You can see everything!” She practically dragged Seth to the railing, her eyes darting back and forth as she gazed across the entirety of LA. The sun was just beginning to set, hues of gold that shimmered off the ocean shone in Bella’s eyes. 

Seth smiled softly as she stared at the setting sun, the worries about this life in LA that he feared would get to her completely gone. For him, those worries left the moment Bella came tumbling into his life. Watching her experience Hollywood for the first time was nostalgic for him. He remembered the jobs that he would take to make ends meet. The constant fear that maybe he was not cut out for this life and would have to move back home was what drove him to sit on the roof alone and drink. Once she came, the glamour of Hollywood that he looked for in success and fame was right in front of him. That glamour had curly, golden hair that shone like the rays of the sun. The glamour that movies portrayed was nothing compared to what was standing right next to him with her small hand in his. Seth took a step closer to her, the warmth of her body sending chills down his spine. They stayed that way for a while, watching the colors of the sky change as the sun fell deeper into the horizon. Neither of them spoke but there was a tug that kept drawing them closer together until Seth’s arms were wrapped around Bella and his head was resting on her shoulder. It wasn’t until it was completely dark that they realized how close they had gotten. Bella was wrapped tightly against Seth’s chest, her fingers were still interlocked with his and lay across her stomach. They stood there looking at the twinkling lights of the city that shone like stars for miles. 

“Hey, Seth.” She softly whispered, turning slightly to look at him. “Thanks for showing me this.”

“Anytime, Iowa.” Seth murmured back, his warm breath tickling her ear. His hands slid down to her hips and turned her around to face him. He couldn’t tell if the pink on her cheeks and ears was from the cold wind that had started or if she was blushing. Brushing a small strand of hair from her face, he leaned in closer until their noses brushed against each other. He pressed his lips softly against hers and felt her hands reach up to clasp around his neck. Bella entangled her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to her. Eventually, he pulled away and rested his forehead against hers.

“I’ve been wondering when you were gonna do that.” Bella smirked, lightly brushing her lips against his. 

“I have been wanting to kiss you since I saw you trying to chase Rocket out of your apartment.” He smiled at her, gently running his fingers along her back.

They slowly made their way down the hill with their fingers still interlocked. This time, however, Bella did not feel nervous about the physical contact but felt at peace like how she would back in Iowa. Coming to Hollywood had its challenges but Seth was the one thing she didn’t expect to find. Having him in her life was one of the better experiences that could have come out of this crazy journey that she was on.

[whispersandwhiskerburn]

Wanted

Summary: Dean realizes he’s not showing the Reader the love she deserves and takes her on a romantic date to remind her that she is all he has ever wanted. Pairing: Dean x Reader Word Count: 2,155 Warnings: Um…bring a salty snack to combat the tooth-rottingly sweetness of this fic. It’s so sappy and fluffy I’m kinda sick to my stomach. And I blame my sister for making me watch a Nicholas Sparks movie today. Implied future smut at the end, but this is totally SFW. Author’s Note: This is an extremely late birthday present response to a challenge by Kayla at @one-shots-supernatural as well as one of the fic responses to my 2k celebration, requested by one of my absolute faves: @littlegreenplasticsoldier. My prompts were the song “Wanted” by Hunter Hayes (lyrics italicized throughout), camping, and the quotes bolded below. I hope you enjoy!

“You two go ahead—muscle your way to a booth or a table. I’ll get the drinks.”

Dean shot Y/N a look of confusion, ready to protest that he could get the drinks, but she leaned forward on her toes and planted a kiss on his cheek, distracting him.

“I know you two are the pretty ones, but the bartender’s a guy this time, so I’ll be more likely to catch his attention.”

She turned him by his shoulders and pushed him lightly towards the crowded seating area, Sam already parting the crowd in front of him.

It was late and the place was crowded, but it took someone who was really brave or really drunk to stand their ground when the Winchesters wanted something. It didn’t take long to secure a booth, but once they were seated and Dean was keeping an eye on the local crowd, his mind went back to what his girlfriend had said.

“Dude, what’s with you? This case was a win. And we’re actually low on the catastrophe front at the moment.”

Sometimes it sucked that his little brother knew him so well.

He frowned, “it’s Y/N.”

Sam followed Dean’s gaze to where she was casually shooting down wanna-be lovers while the bartender filled drink orders and she waited patiently.

“She’s fine. Hell, Dean, she could kick any of their asses in a heartbeat, you know that.”

Dean shook his head, “that’s not it. Something she said—that we’re the pretty ones—“

Sam laughed at that, interrupting Dean as he ran his fingers through his hair in an exaggerated way. “Well, clearly she mainly meant me, but what’s your point, gorgeous?”

Dean shoved his brother’s shoulder but couldn’t stop the smile on his face, which had been Sam’s intent.

“My point, ugly, is that if she really thinks that—about herself, I mean—then I’m doing a shitty job in the boyfriend department. And let’s face it, I don’t exactly have a lot of experience there, so the chances are pretty good that I’ll fuck it up. I don’t want to do that to her.”

Dean watched her laugh at a comment from another admirer as she finally got the drink order to the bartender, then continued in a lower voice.

“I mean, anyone can tell her she’s pretty. She get’s that all the time, I know she does. But her beauty’s deeper than the makeup, you know? I feel like she needs to know that….”

“Then why the hell are you telling me instead of her?” Sam was trying, and mostly failing, at holding back laughter, but he straightened up when Dean shot him a look.

“Look, we both know you got seriously lucky with Y/N, and that you need her like everything that’s green needs sunlight. But if you’re worried you’re not giving her the attention she deserves, take her someplace this weekend—she likes hiking and the outdoors, right?” Dean nodded. “Well, there you go. Take her to one of Bobby’s old hunting spots or something and the two of you have some alone time. I’ll hold things down at the bunker.”

Y/N was walking over now, gripping three beers and weaving through the mass of people. When she met Dean’s eyes and smiled at him, Dean couldn’t stop the happy smile crossing his face in return—and he didn’t want to either.

“That might be the smartest idea you’ve had in a year, Sammy.”

“Okay, Dean, what’s this about? Making Sam hitch a ride with Lee Chambers back to the bunker and driving all the way out here? I know we don’t have a case, but I figured you’d be heading for the nearest cheeseburger, not national forest.”

Dean smiled, glad to have actually been able to surprise his girlfriend for once. She was a quick one, there was no doubt there, and when Lee had been an hour away, Dean had called in a favor to get some camping supplies and a ride for Sam.

Dean put Baby in park and took down the chain that crossed the trail, ignoring the sign saying, “Not Open to Public” and pulled it out of the way, before climbing back behind the wheel and driving past the winding trail. It had been a long ride, and he was hoping to get to the clearing he’d visited once before as a kid before the sun set—it would be a great view.

Y/N was still clueless. Score one for the boyfriend.

Y/N was looking at him funny, “did you and Sam have a fight? What was it about?”

Dean chuckled, “This is between me and you. And we’ve waited long enough.”

“Yeah, cuz that’s not ominous-sounding or anything.”

Dean rolled his eyes, pulling through the last of the trees and into the edge of the clearing, then backing up till the trunk was facing the edge of the ridge. The clearing was the edge of the forest before a natural drop-off; the grass died out a few yards from the tree line leaving dirt and gravel, but the view from the edge was incredible—and the fall was deadly, hence the block for tourists.

Dean parked and turned off the Impala before turning to face the woman in the front seat. “C’mon, Y/N. A little faith here—I just wanted us to have some time alone, you know? Something special. You know I’d fall apart without you, hell, you’ve saved mine and Sammy’s life several times, but it’s more than that. We don’t just need you for your hunting skills—“

“Or the fact that I could kick both your asses and I’m a better researcher than the two of you put together.”

“Haha. It’s more than one and one makes two. It makes sense for you to be with us, for us to be together, but put aside the math and the logic of it; I want to make you feel…wanted.”

Dean reached over, grabbing Y/N hand to squeeze.

“This is about how you’re more than everything I need. You’re all I’ve ever wanted. I don’t know how you do what you do, the way you can make me smile at the weirdest times, the way that everything that doesn’t make sense about me, makes sense when I’m with you.”

Dean faltered, unfamiliar with this mushy stuff… but Y/N’s eyes were melting, and the smile on her face…it was the same smile she gave him after a particularly slow, sweet love making session. So, he soldiered on.

“This trip is about the two of us,” Dean squeezed her hand in his, “and how I wanna hold your hand forever… and kiss your lips…” He leaned forward and caught a glimpse of her smile before she mirrored him and gave him a sweet kiss, all lips with just a hint of tongue.

He leaned back and smiled at the look in her eyes.

“C’mon, I wanna show you something.”

It was a little cooler than Dean had been expecting outside of the car, which made Dean smile—more incentive to wrap her up. The view was…breathtaking. There were quite a few clouds in the wide open sky in front of them, and they were all painted surreal shades of orange, purple, pink and gold as the horizon was dominated by the half globe of the setting sun.

“Oh…Dean. It’s incredible.”

Score two for the boyfriend.

Dean boosted himself on top of the trunk, then pulled Y/N up in between his legs, cradling her against his chest as she took in the full sight and he lost himself in the feel of her curves and the smell of her hair.

He truly was one lucky son of a bitch.

The moment needed no words—they sat there together, watching the sun set and holding each other, and Dean had the fleeting thought that surely this moment would be added to his heaven landscape—and he was glad that he might get the chance to relive this on a loop one day.

When the last of the colors began to fade away, Y/N shifted in his arms, turning to press another sweet kiss to his lips. Dean slipped his hand into her hair, angling her to deepen the contact, losing himself in the taste of her in the way he rarely gave himself time to do anymore.

Then he heard it—the splat of water on windshield.  He looked up just in time for the next raindrop to land on his cheek.

“Oh, come on.”

The light sprinkle was already speeding up to be a steady drizzle as Dean groaned, sliding both himself and Y/N off the car.

“What’s wrong, Dean?”

“This” Dean pointed up to the cloudy sky, the magnificent colors gone to reveal a light gray shade that was playing hell with his evening. “I had a whole thing planned—camp out under the stars, cozy campfire, some quiet time alone,” Dean arched his eyebrows and Y/N chuckled, “the works. Fucking rain.”

Then Y/N tilted her head back, letting the rain wash her face as she spread her arms out—as if she’d embrace the storm if she could.

“I love the rain, though. The way it sounds on metal,” Dean listened to the music of it on the car and could kinda see her point, “the way it drops the temperature and clears the air… and especially the smell.”

“The smell?”

Y/N smiled, her eyes still closed and facing the sky. “Yeah. Petrichor…it means the smell of dust after rain. I’ve always liked it….”

She cracked her eyes open then, laughing to find Dean staring at her incredulously.

“Seriously, Dean—what’s wrong with a little rain?”

She started spinning in the drizzle, the rain coming down hard enough that her hair was starting to get slicked back and her oversize loose shirt began to cling to her curves in a way that Dean definitely noticed.

Y/N was still spinning slowly, practically dancing in the rain, her eyes coming back to Dean’s again and again as he stared at her child-like abandon and the joy that radiated from her.

“At this moment? Not a damn thing.”

Dean moved forward and caught her in his arms, pulling her into his chest.

Y/N chuckled again and then Dean’s mouth was on hers, and her mouth was otherwise occupied.

When they finally surfaced for breath, Dean realized the shower had slackened—it was barely sprinkling now, and the clouds were dispersing to reveal the night sky.

“Look, Y/N.” He guided her chin up to see the stars. This deep into the national forest, the light pollution was minimal, and maybe it was the recent rain, but the air seemed extra clear tonight. Peeking out from behind the clouds, the stars were finally making themselves seen, twinkling and filling the night landscape.

“Oh, wow. Dean, it’s---it’s like a fairytale, or a dream.”

He smiled, turning her around so that her back was to his chest, her head leaned back on his shoulder as she continued to stargaze. He’d brought a tarp and some sleeping bags for that purpose, but he couldn’t bring himself to let her out of his arms right now. The moment was too perfect to spoil with distance.

“That’s all I ever wanted, Y/N. As good as you make me feel, I wanna make you feel better.” Dean leaned his head in and whispered in her ear as he pulled her even tighter into his chest, “better than your fairy tales, better than your best dreams.

“I’ll never let you forget it.”

“Forget what, Dean?”

Y/N turned enough to look up into Dean’s eyes, her own sparkling with something that looked suspiciously like tears in the starlight, but the smile on her face gave him the courage to continue.

“Just how much I need you—how much I want you in my life. Just how important you are to me….”

A part of Dean wanted to keep going, but this was getting way too mushy and open for him, so he did what he did best—acted instead of talked. He leaned in, showing her with his kiss just how much she meant to him, since he wasn’t comfortable saying it out loud to her, no matter how much she might deserve to hear it.

When the kiss was broken, it was Y/N who pulled back to look up at him. Her smile was knowing, understanding, and Dean smiled back, acknowledging his own embarrassment.

“It’s okay, Dean. This is incredible, and I love that you did it—but I know you love me without any grand gestures. And you know I love you.

“There are some things that could never possibly be forgotten.”

Then she pulled him down for another kiss, and Dean focused on the amazing woman in his arms and making her feel wanted in every possible way for the rest of the night.

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[the-adorable-vinnie-dakota]

The Perfect Picture

Remember when I mentioned i was writing a one-shot of Orton being a troll to Block? Well here it is ^^ Honestly while i like thse two as rivals, i also liked the idea of them having a dorky frenemyship where one does nasty things that turn out to be mere tactics for self entertainment which turns out proper at the end for the other. 

*whispers* Block and Orton friendship is a new thing :3 Gotta thank @annamaetion for motivating me to finish this - Which I’m about three paragraphs from the end x3

"THIS is my photographer?! Gretchen what is the meaning of this?!"

Orton smirked snidely while Block was towering over his assistant in demanding. The bespectacled woman that is Gretchen remained nonchalant and she responded in a monotone voice. "There's no meaning, Sir. You were asking for the best photographer there is in Danville so here he is," She coolly gestured at Orton.

Block started to shriek like a spoilt child who didn't get what he wanted. "But...! Oh for crying out loud - I only asked for a photographer! Not a movie star of some ridiculous science sitcom!"

Gretchen flinched and Orton spoke up with crossed arms. "Hey you do realize I can be that and a photographer at the same time, right?" The words shut Block up and he fumed, eyes casting on Gretchen.

Gretchen sensed the hostility and gave her boss the crossed arms. "Orton's the only photographer I've found to be available twenty four hours a day," She pointed out and flashed Orton a grin. "Besides, he's a pretty photogenic man if you ask me. He'll know exactly how to help you make the best photo for the Bureau's Hall of Agents Portrait."

Block's eyes twitched and he groaned in frustration. Of all decisions it had to be this - It's either let that punk work or no picture. It's only one day left and he had absolutely no time to waste..

"Ugh fine! You get the job Mahlson," He curtly shook the offered hand. "But you better make it good."

Orton just nodded in reply. "Oh of course Percival. Of course..." He smirked.

In his annoyance, Block did not see Orton's grin flash with mischief…

Block stared at the well-decorated room while Orton concentrated on nicely bunching up some flowers. The once just plain white room is now home to fancy chairs, mountainous wallpaper and plastic potted plants. How Orton managed to fit all of those in his backpack? He'll never know.

"Hey I thought I had Gretchen order a photographer! Not an interior designer!" He snapped.

A card flew right into his face and Block caught it in two fingers before it could slide down. He read the card.

Danville's Pro Actor Slash Dr Zone Franchise Creator Slash Top Notch Photographer Slash Freelance Interior Designer.

"Wow. That, is a lot of modern positions for someone from the 60s. How exactly did you fit in with society here so easily?!" Block looked incredulous.

Orton rolled his eyes and casually fiddled a flower in his fingers. "Sheesh Blockhead, your brain sure is living the luxurious life of taking its time to process - I have friends, you know? Want me to name them?"

When Block opened his mouth, Orton pinched his lips shut. "You know what? Forget it, I'd rather keep my brethren safe than give their info away to a rotten toad like you so topic closed."

He smirked at the growling Block let out before he gracefully twirled and clapped his hands. "Now chop chop, we still have your photoshoot to do!"

Block grunted and stood up. Orton looked skeptically at the black and red suit from head to toe. Block found it hard to resist punching the guy with the reminder of personal space.

"What's the problem Orton? Why are you staring at my clothes like a fool looking for a scrap of dirt?"

The tawny man stood up and put a hand to his chin. "Hmph nothing serious except - Oh boy... Well I got some news for you." He pulled a part of Block's uniform. "Your clothes cannot do. You need a complete redo! A makeover."

No way. Block gasped. "A makeover?!?"

Orton gave a curt nod. "A makeover."

Nothing could describe the girly squeal Block suddenly let out. The bulky man stopped the embarrassing reaction and gave Orton a questioning look. "Hey you're doing a manly one, right?"

"My! Percy you look fabulous! Oh just come out and look at yourself!"

Orton facepalmed in frustration before going into the closet room to pull Block out. "Seriously, come out you big baby! I have a time limit here and you are wasting every ounce of seconds with your stubborn ass!" He yanked hard on Block's arm and pulled him outside.

The surrounding backdrop workers (lesser time traveller agents) bit their lips in trying not to laugh out loud at their boss.

Block just growled through his pursed mouth, busy stiff and arms pressed at the sides. In the forty minutes of scuffle and dressing up, Orton did a fine job of decorating him.

Wearing the Napoleon-like attire, it made him feel like he's being squeezed and suffocated alive while the high-heeled leather boots aren't making things any comfier. His pants are white and its leggings poofed out at where the boots are overlapping.

Light pink blush and tan colored cream colored his abnormally pale face and his curled ebony hair is tied up in a ridiculous bun. To make things worse, Orton had him wear a navy blue hat resembling that of a pirate's topped with this ridiculously big pink feather. If anything, he looked like a vintage bootleg toy.

Orton snickered and proudly admired his work. "You look gorgeous. Oh you are bound to get a lot of ladies falling for ya!" This sentence made the agents crack up. They hushed however when Block sent them a deadly glare. Orton's fingers turned Block around so he's facing him.

The man was staring right into his face and a devious grin formed. "Now... I believe something is missing,"

Block fumed. "Ooh what could that be? Eyeliner?" He sarcastically said. He's clearly pissed off with makeup at this point.

"No, no! Silly! Eyeliner? Not with those ridiculously large eyebags of yours my friend. I nearly had to use up all of my cream just to cover them up!" Rebuked Orton.

Block winced. His eyebags are so deep it took Orton a long time to apply and rub the covering cream to hide them. "Touche," He muttered and watched Orton pull out a black purse - His makeup kit.

To his horror, the man took out a certain object and opened the cap. Twisting it a bit, a soft red solid rose and Block stiffened. "Is that?!?" He backed away as Orton smirked and went near. "Don't you dare - Get that thing away from me Mahlson! Put that stuff on my face and it's your head!"

His desperate shrieks were ignored and nothing but the sound of grunting and struggle is heard...

Not long later, Block stood in front of the mountainous wallpaper - With his cheeks covered in large lipstick spirals. Block internally swore to knee Orton in the crotch if he plans to make him wear white face paint next. The current extra accessory made him look ridiculous enough.

I could have sworn this shot is supposed to be themed epic and dynamic. Block thought with annoyance. What on earth did Gretchen tell this guy? A request for a Halloween shot?

"Hey no need to be moody, Blockhead. We're all done and over with the makeover!" Orton chuckled and patted the Napoleon clothed shoulder of Block as he seethed still. "Besides, the lipstick makes you look like that one scary Jigsaw puppet with the tricycle and violent methods of criminal punishment. Everyone loves that guy - Right boys?" Orton innocently asked the other agents.

The agents didn't reply for they immediately exited the room to laugh out loud outside of Block's hearing range.  Orton gave a fake wince and looked at Block. "Well, I think you're perfect," He ignored the look of disbelief on Block's face and pulled out his phone.

Block blinked. "You're using a phone to take your photos?!" The man nodded without taking his eyes off the phone as he went through filters.

"I had to. You know, DSLR cameras are too big and bulky even for me - So I created a model that is basically that and a cellphone in one! The first of its kind, exclusive to myself, though I do have some plans of production. It's still a prototype you see? But it's working fine!"

He lowered his phone so he can grab a nearby ladder and drag it to the center of the background. He returned to the front and horizontally held the phone. "Alrighty, we are all set Block! Now climb up the ladder!"

Block looked stunned. "What?"

"You heard me! Now do it!"

The big man gripped the metal sides and took a step. Three steps later, he was shaking in fear and halfway to the top of the ladder. He flashed Orton a hopeful grin. "Is this enough?"

Orton rolled his eyes and shook his hand in a 'keep going motion'. "Higher." He said flatly. Block winced and climbed farther up. The ladder shook when Block set one foot on the summit step and he shrieked. "Is this enough?!"

To his relief, Orton nodded. But it wasn't the last.

"You're doing great! Now do an epic pose like all those men who pull swords out from stones!"

Before Block could reply, Orton tossed him a large sword that pulled his arms down when caught. The ladder shook beneath from the sudden weight pull and it nearly fell over - The man gasping when he almost fell. He managed to stabilize the ladder and do as instructed.

With Orton raising a thumbs up, Block put on a plastered grin as the phone was raised to capture the picture…

He waited for the flash. It never came. For a good second, Block thought Orton didn't consider using that like most people who use those things - Until a shocked outcry came out of the latter's mouth.

"No!"

Block gaped and became alarmed. "W-What's the problem? Is it the hair?! The makeup?! A one-off?!"

Orton said nothing. Instead, frowned and sighed in frustration at his phone before flipping it for Block to see the blinking Low Battery logo on the screen.

"Dead Battery.”

Orton slipped the phone into his pocket and pulled out a camera and its aparratus from his backpack. "Give me a moment and stay there, I'll just have to set up my DSLR - You're lucky I brought it with me or I'll have to steal another camera from someplace!"

Block's eye twitched with rage and if he wasn't covered in so much foundation amongst other things, his face would definitely be red like the lipstick spirals on his cheeks. With his emerald glare upon Orton, he could only think of one phrase.

Could a mere photoshoot day get any worse?

For the next half hour, Block didn't say a thing and let his ridiculous picture be taken. He knew it was embarrassing and something to not be displayed on the Hall of Agents - Especially when his picture is gonna be the biggest frame and takes up an entire side of wall.

As much as he wanted a proper formal re-shoot, his mind has already been inflicted by the intense makeover, the clothes and the Nasty Photographer from Hell as he had dubbed Orton for this day.

When the latter finally left with a casual side of teasing remark, the first thing Block did was rip off the suit (not literally.. Maybe?) and scrub his face with lots of soap. After that bath, bed was the first place he went to and he did just so - Planting facefirst on the mattress and pillows...

The next day came by faster than he thought and he badly wanted to be absent, save himself from the chuckling of his agents as Orton further provoked them into laughter with stories on how the shooting went.

Block grumbled and got to his feet. No, it's just a dumb old picture. He put on his usual uniform and sighed. He can just suspend agents that laugh or give some much as one chortle. He's the boss, he's got the privilege. They don't… right?

Moments later, he found himself in the portrait filled room where his agents are admiring or happily chatting about their developed works. A few portraits, notably Brick and Savannah's, are said to be home captured and sent them in for photoshop and so on.

The latter pair stood proudly while describing their precious work to the watching fellow agents. The portrait as Block expected from every agent in pairs, displayed Brick and Savannah in a cloudy landscape. Brick was riding a winged horse and Savannah, standing in an epic archer's dress with a spear in readying to shoot the man and steed…

Block winced. So this is how the woman treats her guy. He snorted with an eyeroll. Typical. He moved on to see the other portraits.

His steppings grew slow the moment he entered the chatty environment of the room. Something about the chit-chat bothered him. Although he has no intention of being a busy body, his ears picked up a name amongst the chat -  The one name he doesn't consider pretty after yesterday…

Orton.

Block blinked in disbelief. Many of his agents are talking about that guy. Talking about how great he is amongst other words of praise. "What the heck?" He rubbed his ears as if to make sure they weren't deceiving him. He wasn't. He was indeed hearing them talk good about Orton and it stuns him. Does everybody know this man? He blinked. Dr Zone. Of course.. He rolled his eyes.

His emerald gaze froze and set upon another certain pair where a lot of agents are crowding around with cameras and compliments. They were standing in front of a large portrait taking up there whole wall but Block was too distracted to see. In the center of the crowd stood Balthazar and Vinnie along with a very familiar man Block knew too well - He stiffened.

"Orton?!"

Silence filled the air and the trio acknowledged Block. Orton especially let out a loud chortle before giving Block a hearty slap on the shoulder. "Why hello Block! So good to see ya drag your heavy butt out here before the crowd! And good thing too because you're just in time for the big premiere!"

He ignored the shocked look on Block's face and clapped for Gretchen. "Hey Gretch! Gather everyone here will you not? The star has finally entered - time to get this event started!"

"I'm on it!" Gretchen called for everyone and in minutes, the entire bureau is crowded around before the spectacle - Brick and Savannah being included in the batch. Orton has an arm raised as a hand enclosed around a part of the cloth covering the large framed portrait. The crowd silenced in time for Orton to begin his opening speech.

"My dear friends and agents of the Bureau of Time Travel, it is with great pleasure that I stand here today to present the most awaited Frame of Honor containing the most wonderful face of no one other than the Bureau's most adored boss, the amazing Mr Percival Block!"

He readied to pull away the cloth but a blur of black and red screeched and grabbed Orton's shoulders with desperate shaking.

"Don't you dare!" He barked much to Orton's 'surprise'. "You already made me look like a child's mannequin - I cannot have you humiliating more in front of all of my agents!" He snapped.

Orton gave him an offended look. "I beg your pardon?" He pried the bigger man off of him. "Oh Blockhead. Why on earth would I do that? I am a man with a heart - I'd never humiliate someone in front of a crowd!" He held in a snicker. Unless it was you that is. He thought to himself but quickly shook his head. No he’d never do that even to him...

Holding Block away with one arm, Orton gripped onto the cloth and with a swoosh, the drape was pulled down and came clean off from the portrait. Block shrieked and shut his eyes, shaking madly. I'm doomed I'm doomed I'm doomed!!! He shot Orton a second lasting death glare. And it's all your fault - Dammit Mahlson!

He covered his ears in expecting the ringing of laughter and words of humiliation to be thrown upon him. None of that came - Instead, the clapping of hands of one person, Vinnie Dakota, before the entire crowd joined in with whoops and cheers.

"Wha??" Block felt Orton's hand grasp his and hold it up in victory pose. "Everybody! Lo and behold - The Block is in the house and is shining with spotlights ever so glorious! Stand back and stare at him! In awe!"

Orton's other arm was gestured to the huge portrait and the cheering applause intensified. Block now felt whatever tense feeling he had drift away and he slowly turned to look at what's behind him.

Instead of an image of him in ridiculous clothing and makeup, Block found himself staring at a much vibrant image; Him in metallic knight's armor and riding an armored steed, his arm raised up high and holding a sword.

To top it off, his face is full of bravery and instead of the dark perms, his hair swayed with the wind in epic motion. It looked so realistic…

"Wow neato!" Vinnie was enthralled and he clapped with Balthazar. "My, that was flashing! Your photographer really did the job!" Added Vinnie's tall partner in amazement. All the other agents were giving out praises of impression and their applause grew louder.

The noises weren't fully acknowledged by Block however as he stared at the portrait as if his mind is taking a while to process things. Before he knew it, he felt a smile tug on the corner of his lips. "I can't believe it!" He grinned and for their first time since yesterday, looked at Orton with immense joy. "How did you do this?! In one night... I don't know what to say!"

Orton shrugged with a chuckle and smacked the man in the shoulder. "If that's so, then don't say anything then." He glanced around the room. "Look about you, with you being the boss I thought it'd only be fair to give you the most supreme piece so there you have it!"

He dug into his pocket for a receipt book and clicking a pen, wrote in some words. He ripped the page off the pad, folded it, and handed it to Block who took the paper slowly. "Here's the bill Block. I'll be expecting to be paid within this week," He smirked and he went forward and through the crowd of agents - But not without giving Block one last devious wink over his shoulder.

"… Okay?" Block muttered and reluctantly, he opened the paper with sheer panic in fear of seeing a huge number with so many zeroes at the end - That one day and he already knew how cunning Orton can be. His fingers tipped up the upper half of the paper and reluctantly, he scanned the words and to his surprise, found no number.

Spare those dimes in your wallet because my time having fun with you yesterday is already all the payment I could ask for. That and... I apologize for being too childlike. Hope you can call me again soon, that way I could at least make it up to you. Well. It was nice bonding with you Percy! :) 

- Orton Mahlson

For the first time since his hostile rivalry with Orton, Block wore an actual touched smile.

[kkrazy256]

Transformers The Last Knight spoiler thoughts

Here are my notes for the movie. I have to go back soon to watch it again for technical details/film minor purposes. But these are my super unprofessional opinions. Mostly me screaming about my robot children.

Enjoy? :’D

  -entire beginning (the random kids, Izabella and Mark’s appearance) was a bit weak. Starting in medias res without explaining. 

- Though watching Bee drag Santiago’s ass around while he was shrieking was A+ 

- Hyped up Izabella yet after first part of movie, she was barely in it. Moner’s an amazing actress, she’s gonna go places. I hope to see her around some more. She’s adorable, I get slight TFP Miko feels from her, sneaky child (especially towards the end when she sneaks aboard and is like yeah idk how I got here lol)

- Sqweeks the new BB8, a good child. 

- nice team Prime exposition in the junkyard. I wish there was more of this type of interaction , showing that the robots are more than just bloodthirsty walking metal. 

- Man the fucking tension between BB and Crosshairs, just rolling around in the dust, fucking make out already. 

- Drift is my temperamental son and I love him.

- Baby dinobots are literal puppies and Cade sorta just adopted a ragtag team of jittery orphans and I’m emotional.

-STARSCREAM MY DARLING *SOBS*

- BUDLIGHT HARHAR

- nice Tessa and Cade family moment 

- Hound is mah boi, a gentle giant 

- Military is like “that voice…it’s Megatron” but this is Welker’s first time voicing Megatron (not counting Galvatron) so XD but yes to Frank Welker finally getting the job as Megatron.

- wtf is megatron doing, did they really give back a few criminal decepticons for two CIA agents. Him on his throne was YES. The lawyer scene was pretty funny. But they don’t explain how he turned from galvatron to megatron again. When did he contact Quintessa?

- DECEPTICON SQUADDD GOOD SHIT GOALS

- My treacherous friend- GOD DAMN Megatron should’ve kept starscream’s head and just had fun commentary all throughout the movie. Imagine tho ((SHIT WHAT WOULD  STARSCREAM DO…FUCK UP THAT’S WHAT… STORECREAM THIS IS YOUR FAULT OH WAIT YOU DEAD…SCRIMSCRAM YOURE USELESS)) 

- DRIFT’S ALT MODE IS FUCKING GORGEOUS LORD HAVE MERCY

- Cogman is already badass, rip Crosshair’s fingers.

- It felt like two separate movies the moment Cade left for London. The joys of Bayverse script quality

- Anthony Hopkins sure travels fast

 - they totally put Simmons in for the hell of it, he wasn’t necessarily needed. But who cares Easter eggs, it’s been a while buddy, how’ve you been.

-UNICRON??? OHHHHHHHHHH

- Vivian’s clothes and boyfriend problems, enough with the forced romance already. At least her mother and gaggle of old ladies wouldn’t have minded if she chose a girlfriend apparently? Wow wouldn’t that have been nice. She’s going to date that one cute gal on her polo game team and Cade’s saving himself for OP CLEARLY

- The watch that killed Hitler - international treasure

- is that an Aston Martin?? all of Anthony Hopkins cars made me super fucking jealous. That was pure car porn and I loved it

- Cogman is MVP

 - MOVE BITCH GET OUT THE WAY

- Optimus got turned real quick. He has less screentime than Megatron rip my father- almost every moment of him and Quintessa was already in the trailer. And they kept pushing his storyline aside in favor of the humans like honey no. Show me more conflict and torture on his side, so there’s progression in him being “brainwashed”, that seemed almost too easy, it’s insulting. Quintessa got so little screentime, it made her seem less intimidating. 

- She slapped the evil red paint into him hell yeah. Clearly she did the same to Megatron. I wanted to see that lmao. Why the hell was megatron working for her in the first place. How do you have so much shit happen yet give us nothing

- Wait so…does Cybertron have rocket boosters how is it moving towards Earth so fast…cool

- they under used all the robot characters, pushing so much history and exposition on the audience through human perspective when they had a plethora of robot characters that could’ve explained their past. So much potential but no steps are taken. Like Bee was around WWII but he doesn’t say anything when they’re discussing it like hello? Could’ve used Hot Rod better too. He’s a good boy, let him do more.

- drift and crosshairs have basically no role towards the end except to play pilot and they’re barely on screen even then. Whyyyy. They shined the most during the junkyard scene in the beginning.

 - Andd we have to watch Vivian stare at Cade’s nipnops for a full minute and listen to cringe-y forced romance

 - Cogman I love you. He ain’t having none of Cade and Vivian’s romance bullshit. I want him to be my sushi chef.

- Its like the TRF can’t fucking decide what their goal is. They’re too afraid to shoot Cade. Half the time they’re the “bad guys” half the time they just go along with what’s happening with a huge question mark on their face. No real explanation on why Lennox and Epps are there.

- Nemeis Optimus doesn’t even sound that different from regular Optimus lmaoo, it’s just rah I will kill you all!! Just a regular old day in the life of bayverse OP. *Puts on sunglasses* just chill, sit down, relax, stop screaming.

- Puts staff in boobs subspace. TIT POCKETS GOOD SHIT

- Wow Optimus snapped out of it real quick. But his scene with bumblebee was one of the most heart warming in this movie. Bee’s voice asdfghjkl;

- I am your oldest friend, BITCH YOU HIS SON

 - Every time he said nemesis prime, I cringed and laughed

 - WOW Megatron stole the staff from OP’s TITS 

- Optimus getting his ass kicked by the knights and megatron was the highlight of my day. He’s so small compared to them and just fuck yeah my sadistic needs

- yes he stabbed/ripped a face again, we need to talk about your face ripping fetish

- OPTIMUS RUNNING HOLY SHIT LOL I WANT THAT GIF'ED I WANT ALL THE ROBOT RUNNING TO BE IMMORTALIZED

 - Megatron uses HEADBUTT. Effectiveness? To be determined.

- megatron is once again playing secondary villain, interacts with Prime for a total of thirty seconds before blasting off again. Wow nice seeing these two ex husbands interact 30 seconds out of a three hour movie wow. You know what they could’ve done? Shown more of Quintessa Optimus and Megatron interaction like how would Megs and Op treat each other when they thought they were on the same side like WOW THAT WOULDVE BEEN COOL YKNOW

- When will Megatron get to be the main villain again. Let the old man be dramatic. 

- SAY HELLO TO MY FRIEND BUMBLEBEE. HAH. SAY HELLO TO MY SON BUMBLEBEE. This is the corny shit i come to see!!

- quintessa also went down real quick but she’s got some cool shit planned. She’s Asian!!?? I love her she’s beautiful.

- So there was less action/explosions this movie. Most of it came from the humans/car chases and their poor Ospreys getting murdered. There was really only the decepticons squad attack and the final battle which I felt was pretty underwhelming compared to the usually drawn out fights in the other four movies. Don’t know if this was a plus or a negative.

- every time they mentioned unicron I was screaming. 

- now Unicron and Primus are literal neighbors hey wassup this will only end well.

- it was a shit show from beginning to end but a decent blockbuster mind numbing experience I guess. Did I enjoy it tho? The first time I watched it, I was in the moment. The second time? Oh my god did it fucking suck so hard. The story-telling was absolutely terrible and inconsistent.

- they gave me 3D glasses but there was barely a difference from watching without. I watched it without the glasses. Waste of an extra 10 bucks.

- I need to be more professional in note taking OTL

Final Movie Rankings

1. Transformers 1

2. Dark of the Moon

3. Age of Extinction

4. The Last Knight 

5. Revenge of the Fallen 

[tailsbeth-writes]

Always the Sidekick - Prose

I wrote this piece for a genre fiction class at university, it’s a romantic short story. It’s one of the few stories I’m actually quite happy with and might even consider continuing.

Word Count: 2609.

The park had well and truly taken autumn in. Across the wet grass, lay leaves in shades of brown and yellow. The smell of pumpkin spice lattes was in the air, it really was the best time of year. Today my wellington boots had been taken on their first outing; their traditional green didn’t particularly coordinate with my red rain mac. However, I could not care less as my appearance was not my speciality. With my mousy brown hair complete with blunt fringe to my milk bottle glasses, I was not what you’d call typically attractive. I was content with my lot though, as long as I could get to my favourite bench with a notebook and pen, I was happy.

It was the best spot for people watching, it was right in the middle of the park. To your left was a large pond where children would attempt to feed swans and nearly kill them and to your right were the multi-courts where men would make fools of themselves on a daily basis in an attempt to woo the opposite sex, usually with dire results. I sat there for my lunch hour and marvelled at the awesomeness of humanity before my best friend Jenny arrived. I love her to pieces but thanks to her gorgeous good looks, my favourite bench became the viewpoint of frenzy for the sporting lads. She walked up in high heeled boots, a black tulip skirt which extenuated her curves precisely and a white chiffon blouse that didn’t leave much to the imagination. The cherry on top of it all was her blonde wavy hair which bounced lightly with every step.

‘April darling, how are we today?’ I loved the way Jenny spoke, so silly yet sophisticated.

‘I’m pretty excellent, how are you?’

‘So tired, rushed off my feet as usual. Glad to get a break.’

‘I just don’t know how you manage it, I wouldn’t dream of such a busy job.’

‘Well, April my dear, not all of us are content with spending our days in a library.’ Despite Jenny and I being the same age, she’s always spoke down to me a little. I never cared what she said about my job though, I loved it. Her job sounded like an absolute nightmare to me, she worked at a law firm which meant she was always busy and always had to look her best. ‘It’s all about reputation’ Jenny told me time and time again. Whereas at my work, I spent hours sorting out books full of magic and romance, I wore whatever I pleased and I got a full hour for lunch. With those stats, I’d never see the appeal of Jenny’s job.

‘What’s for lunch today then?’ Jenny enquired as usual, looking for the plastic lunchbox.

‘Roast chicken sandwich, last night’s leftovers.’ I handed it over to a starved Jenny.

‘Oh you treat me so well April!’ She declared before she took a huge bite out of the sandwich. From the size of her waist, you’d never guess Jenny had a massive appetite.

‘Are we still doing dinner tomorrow night?’ She asked between bites. Fridays were probably my favourite day. I had a half day at work, I’d pick up sushi as a treat on the way home and then I’d settle down to a good book or a Netflix marathon for the afternoon. The nights were usually planned by Jenny, with her job she managed to blag us theatre ticket most weeks. However, this dinner wasn’t one of our usual Friday nights. It was a set-up, a casual reminder that I was still single and apparently needed to find a boyfriend.

‘Was that tomorrow night? I forgot about that. I might actually be working.’

‘You’re kidding me right? Remember tick tock, you’re not getting any younger pumpkin.’

‘Thanks for that gentle reminder Jen, you aren’t ei-‘

‘April Louise Hollander, you are going to eat dinner with me and some lovely male company whether you like it or not! Trust me; I’m doing it for your own good. Also it’s a work thing, you’d be the bestest for coming.’ I knew there would be some form of blackmail; I was always the sidekick to her little plans.

‘As I’ve told you time and time ag-‘

‘April, just be there.’ She interrupts again. I’ve not paid much attention but she’s finished her sandwich and brushed off the crumbs. I didn’t even bother trying to reply this time.

‘I better get back to the office; they’ll be lost without me. Remember 7 o’clock tomorrow at that fancy Italian place, wear something nice. Ciao darling!’ And with that she marched off on her heels, already screaming orders down the phone.  I had been looking forward to Friday, I was going to marathon Breaking Bad. Now I’d spend the afternoon trolling my wardrobe. Help.

Friday mornings at the library were always fun. A couple of classes from the local primary school would come in and if there wasn’t much work to do I got to help out with the kids. They reminded me of myself at that age, always raring to start a new book. I brought out a table full of new books and they cheered as they scrambled to find the best choice. Their adorable little smiles were enough to make my day. On the other hand, on my bus home I saw a bunch of students glued to their phones and tablets. I understood you could read books on those too but the majority of them were playing addictive games or swiping through possible mates like baboons. What happens to us as we grow up? Does the world of fiction lose its appeal to jabbing away at a piece of plastic and metal? I got off my usual stop and walked a few metres down the road to pick up my Japanese feast of sushi and bubble tea.

My flat was in the building next door, on the third floor. It was small and cosy, ideal for me and my pet fish Oscar, named after Mr Wilde of course. Normally I’d have got straight into my pyjamas, unluckily I had to choose a suitable outfit for Jenny’s high standards. Queue a clichéd montage of chucking clothes around my bedroom. Fashion was never my thing; I was about comfort and practicality not designer labels. I reckoned simple and elegant-ish was my best bet. As I turned to the mirror, I imagined an eagle-eyed Jenny staring back at me.

‘Are you really going to wear that tonight? Why do you even own that?’

‘I don’t actually care Jenny.’

‘Well you obviously care my dear; otherwise you wouldn’t be imagining me in your mirror now, would you?’ I let a little frustrated scream out. Imaginary or not, Jenny did have a point though. I did care. I’ve seen the looks of disgust that Jenny’s colleagues give me when I turn up to a champagne party in my doc martens and no make-up. This time it was almost like a date, she’d mentioned male company. I hadn’t had a boyfriend since university, three years ago. I genuinely did want to try, while I had Hermione’s smarts, I unfortunately didn’t have Emma Watson’s good looks. Tonight was going to be different; I ran out to Primark and bought a little black dress. I braved my contact lenses and risked burning my hair with my straighteners. Make-up wasn’t my best friend, but I tried my hardest to not make it look like war paint. I, of course, made a few April-esque touches, a deathly hallows necklace and forest green brogues. It might have just been a dinner date but as I gazed in the mirror, I could have been ready for a ball.

I definitely preferred London at night time. The twinkling street lights bounced off the reflective skyscrapers that melted into the indigo sky. My taxi driver wasn’t very chatty which I was thankful for tonight. My mind was too busy buzzing with expectations to talk about the weather.  Jenny would giggle like a school girl over her carbonara at the dashing gentleman opposite her. Meanwhile I’d be enthralled in conversation with a boyishly handsome chap who happens to have a passion for Doctor Who. As I dissolved into my day dreams, I barely noticed the taxi screeching to a halt. Jenny practically pounced on me as I stumbled out the cab into the nippy air.

‘April, my darling, you’re a new woman! Where’s the milk bottles? And are you wearing make-up? I love, love, love it!’ She was grinning from ear to ear at my apparent transformation.

‘Aw, you’re very sweet.’ I felt my cheeks redden as she spoke.

‘I wish you dressed like this more often, speaking of which, where is this delight of a dress from? I never knew you owned such a thing.’

‘Primark, only a tenner actually!’ Jenny’s face dropped in repulsion, the idea of being seen dead in anything less than £50 freaked her out. Her grin returned as she took in my whole look once more.

‘Not my usual taste, but you work it.’

‘You sure I look alright? I’m way out my comfort zone here.’

‘Of course you look alright, more than alright! Do you not think you look fab?’ I had to agree with Jenny. I’d gone through my Cinderella transformation from drab to fab except my fairy godmother came in the form of Primark and YouTube tutorials. I gave her a courageous smile.

‘God damn it, I do look fab Jenny.’

‘Great, glad we can agree on that. The boys said they’re going to be a tad late unfortunately so we’ve just to head inside.’

‘Okay, after you.’ I followed Jenny’s lead. After all the commotion of my new look, I hadn’t taken in Jenny’s outfit for the night. Her hair sat in a subtle up do and a creamy fur shawl sprawled over her shoulders. Her dress was a figure hugging scarlet number, which finished just after the knees and her shoes were a classic pair of black heels. As usual, Jenny looked like an absolute bombshell. I felt rather lucky to be friends with someone so glamourous.

As soon as the restaurant door opened we caught the smell of the incredible menu. Chatter surrounded every table. The place was packed. It was a Friday night in London after all. Everything appeared to be draped in white; the tables, chairs and even the walls. Spaghetti Bolognese was off the menu for me then. We got seated straight away as we had reservations. Jenny briefed me on tonight’s mission; we had to show the representative from this company a good time essentially. He was bringing along an intern which is where I came in, I was the distraction while Jenny spoke business. Whilst this was technically work for Jenny, we agreed we were going to have a good time ourselves. Therefore the first order of the night was cocktails. Our waitress brought over two martinis and we clinked our glasses together.

‘Do you feel like you’re in Sex and the City right now?’ Jenny giggled.

‘You took the words right out my mouth.’

‘I think we could give Carrie and the girls a run for their money frankly.’ We chuckled as sophisticatedly as we could. A joint this fancy didn’t feel like it welcomed belly laughs.

‘Excuse me ladies, I do believe you’ve been waiting for us.’ We looked up from our drinks to see our delicious male company had arrived. Jenny got up to shake their hands.

‘You must be Michael? So nice to finally meet you. This is my friend April.’ Michael stretched a freshly tanned hand over to me, his chocolate coloured eyes slithering into mine. Behind him stood a tall redhead who smiled delicately at us.

‘Nice to meet you girls, this is Eric.’ Eric tottered over and shook our hands. His hands were slightly clammy, nerves were tugging at him.

‘Great to meet you both.’ I drank in his polite expression, it was very welcoming. We all took our seats, Eric sat to my left. His navy cord blazer grazed my skin as it fell on his chair.

‘What are we drinking ladies?’ Michael enquired. Every word was like silky caramel; Jenny stuck to every syllable while it was far too sickly for me.

‘Martinis, we can move onto a bottle of wine if you’d prefer.’ Jenny had to vaguely remind herself this was a professional dinner. Michael had other plans.

‘Of course no, martinis it is! Waiter!’ He glanced around and waved his hand in the air, Eric stared at his lap. He looked as uncomfortable as I felt. A baffled waitress finally came over.

‘Six martinis please!’ Michael demanded.

‘Why six?’ Eric innocently asked.

‘We’ve got catching up to do! It’s Friday night after all!’

‘Christopher Eccleston’s your favourite doctor? Really?’

‘Yup!’

‘Wow, very controversial.’ I sipped my third martini, never losing grip with Eric’s bubblegum blue eyes. They made my insides feel cosy. That could have also been the alcohol. Jenny had gone to sit at the bar with Michael to have shop talk. Her legs stretched in front of the bar stool to keep Michael at a safe distance. She’d got over his caramel tones and was getting to work.

‘So how long have you known Jenny? I wouldn’t say you’re typically matched.’ I rolled my eyes at the world’s most frequently asked question.

‘Most people think the same. We’ve been inseparable since primary school, she shared her dolls with me when nobody else would. I don’t think she quite realised what she’d got into. We’ve been through semesters abroad with nothing but letters to each other and we’re still going. I know she comes across as ridiculous most of the time but that’s part of the magic of Jenny. It’s just kind of amazing that over ten years later, we still meet at a park bench every day for lunch and it’s not boring yet. God, sorry, I’m babbling now!’

‘Nah, don’t worry about it. I think you two are sweet. A bit mad but sweet.’ I looked down at my drink, my cheeks felt rosy. Sensing my awkwardness, he changed subject.

‘Do you have a favourite park bench in mind? I’m a bit of a people watching enthusiast myself.’ My mouth may have gawped open a little. It was like someone had taken my day dreams and moulded them into my perfect man.

‘Seriously? People watching is my favourite thing ever. You know Waverly Park, how the path cuts right through the middle? The bench right next to the pond and multi-courts.’

‘I don’t think I’ve been there, I’ll need to check it out sometime. If you’d let me of course.’

‘Suppose, but I’ll have to share between the hours of 12 and 1 on weekdays.’

‘Those terms are fair enough.’ His endearing gaze turned me to jelly. His movements were careful, his long fingers ever so slightly rubbed up against mine on the table. He picked up my pendant and edged a smile.

‘Harry Potter fan?’

‘Yeah. I must seem like a massive geek with this thing on.’ I mustered hesitantly.

‘Oh really?’ He smirked and got something out of his coat pocket, a wallet with the Hogwarts crest on it. I let out a slight gasp. Eric laughed lightly at my shock. He placed the tattered wallet back in his coat.

‘Massive geeks should stick together, well I think so anyway.’ He declared. Before I even realised, the space between us was gone as he kissed me gently.

‘I could not agree more.’

[artistclock]

WHEN IT WILL BE ME?

By: Cherry Mae Parohinog

Be the best or be nothing at all. Remember that no one remembers the second best or the rest for that matter. Aim for the top place. Always.

I had it in my head that individuals were constantly looking for attention and a good reputation. We lived for their compliments. Who doesn't like to be complimented? One positive word from you, they can live for a day. One positive sentence forms you, then they can build an altar and worship you. They can even kiss your feet.

"Our school's pride! Let us give Mr. Merritt a standing ovation! The well-known art competition was held in Manila. And, of course, congrats to Ms. Hernandez on her second-place finish. Thank you very much! Mr. Merritt, top one!”

Roaring applause was given by the crowd to us and especially to him. I don’t know if it’s because he’s drop-dead gorgeous or because he won. I bet my life, it’s the former.

When my name was called, I couldn't help but notice the host's low tone. See, second place means nothing. I also stood up and clapped. I didn't clap because I wanted to; I clapped because it was my initial inclination, and it was required by the program. And I should, because I'm one of the winners!

“Congratulations, Ms. Hernandez. Your arts are good and getting better.” The host mumbled to me and smiled with her lips pursed.

Comparative versus superlative adjective, I see.

Her words could no longer be heard due to the great weakness of her voice and the crowd’s loudness. I accept her compliment with a nod of my head. It would have been lovely to hear her praises, but they didn't last long in my ears. Her words sound rehearsed.

“Thank you, Ma’am.” I return the smile she gave to me.

Another medal and trophy to be cover with dust.

James Austin Merritt, the winner, in his custom-tailored tux from the back of the host, sashaying his way to us. His chiseled arms are highlighted by his serge coat. His tousled hair, crimson lips, flushed cheeks, and metal timepiece. His deportment now matched his brusqueness and arrogance so well. He looks expensive and extremely confident.

“I know I mentioned it before, but let me congratulate you again,” he says as he clears his throat. “Congratulations, Ms. Olivia,” He's in top form, with his cheeky smile on his face, and his right palms outstretched in front of me, indicating that I should take it.

This is the type of guy I should avoid.

“You, too, Mr. Merritt. You brought the school’s name again. I’m so honored to join you in that dazzling journey we had in Manila. You’re the best companion.” I clasped his hand in mine and smiled at him.

The words taste so wrong on my tongue. I can even taste the bitterness.

“You two did an outstanding job. And this handsome prodigy, oh, darling, make us prouder,” the host taps his right cheek. She has the look of a proud mother. I almost puked when I saw how sweet it was.

He turns his face toward me, allowing me to get a good look at his aristocratic features. “Not at all, Ma'am. Olivia is here, and she is the best at everything. As with anything! Did you happen to notice what she used in the competition? She used oil paint as well as poster paint! The beauty of her artwork is breathtaking! I'm lost for words to describe how stunning and talented she is. I was startled and mesmerized as I stared at her. I-I'm referring to her painting,” His prominent cheekbones turning a slight shade of red.

I stifle a little chuckle. I'd like to believe him. His comments, despite the oozing tone of sarcasm and stupidity, ring true in my ears. I only hope Mrs. Ronald, the host, agrees with us, although I doubt it. Her sour expression tells me so.

My hands are itching to hit him - no, beat him! Hmm… maybe later, Mr. Merritt.

“What exactly are you saying, Mr. Merritt? You won, which implies you're the best. What would happen to our department if you weren't there? A strong and confident man. Your artistic prowess is out of this world,” she shook her head, wanting to put a stop to the conversation.

Mrs. Roland may believe that a man has all the power, but this is not the case. I wholeheartedly disagree. I believe that women can accomplish just as much as men.

It appears to me that I am not as important as him and that I was only placed there to fill the gap. My achievement and trophy mean nothing to them.

“No, no, Ma’am. She’s also a winner in the competition too. I was so amazed at how good she was that I was ready to go home crying that day,” He shoves his hands in his pockets and glances over me. His left dimples popping out.

“Alright, Austin, if you say so. I'll leave you two alone now. I’ll just talk to someone on the other side.” She gracefully turns her back on us. Her sour expression remained.

“What was the point of that?” You want to court me?” My arms are folded on my chest.

His mouth fell open, and his brown eyes were as large as saucers and almost out of their sockets. He has a peculiar appearance. I nearly roll on the carpet!

“No. Never, Miss, but you can thank me though. And then I'll say, 'Welcome, Olivia.' How does that sound?”

I groan. As I looked at him, I wondered how someone could be so dumb.

“I appreciate your kind words, Mister. Hearing that made my day.” I mock him by pressing my palm to my chest and bowing slightly.

He mumbles an expletive under his breath. “Stop dissing me, please. The competition ended well and unbiasedly. And are we already friends, or am I imagining things? But for me, we’re already friends. We can help each other. We can also create beautiful artwork. What do you think?” He wiggles his eyebrow. As a result, he is quite attractive; otherwise, he would resemble Mr. Bean.

“No, we're not friends, and we never will be. Well, unless you are the firm believer of ‘keep your friends close but keep your enemies closer, then we can be friends,” I shrug my shoulder acting as a cool kid. I just need myself and no more.

His stares are so intense that I almost cringe.

“If that’s what you want, then fine. We’re enemies now.”

Perhaps it is true that when the universe aligns, there is a force that allows two opposing things to become one.

I let him see every inch of my heart.

On the floor was a jumble of canvases, paintbrushes, and paint colors. Images of hazy landscape sceneries, abstract paintings, and random people's portraits are hung, while some are simply lying against the wall. I watched him in the corner as he was serious about what he was doing. It’s like he’s the only one in the room and his painting is the most important thing in the world. His hand seems to be dancing to a rhythm that only he can hear. The veins in his arms protruded when the paintbrush kissed the canvas. His brow wrinkled and his crimson lips parted slightly. It's amazing to look at him in such a way that you wouldn't believe he's puerile and truant.

Let’s make art together. No rivalry between us.

His words break the high sturdy wall I built for anyone to protect myself.

“I'm hungry,” I said, although I'm not. All I want is for him to pay attention to me as well.

“Then, eat. I don't have your mouth,” he says. He didn't even look at me. He's really serious about what he's doing.

“You’re arts is romantically beautiful, Austin. It never fails to amaze me. I want to make you a statue,”

“Really? That's very thoughtful of you, Olivia. Thank you for your backhanded compliments. It's much appreciated. And I think... I'm going to cry. Could you please hand me a tissue?” He retorted.

Oh, God! Give me more patience.

Dropping my head back against my chair and dragging my breath through my nose. I prop my right elbow on the armrest and lean my head against my hand.

“Have you read what was posted in the bulletin? They’ll have competition again. Maybe you'd like to join?” Now he's focused on me and telling me something else. His words were vague in my ears. In a trance, I'm staring at a line of ants scurrying around the wall. What if I lose once more? A second-place finisher again? I don't want to lose. For once, I'd want to be on top. No, I always want to be at the top. No one but myself! The best of the rest!

I'm a sad little girl who craves attention and longs to escape reality. My anxiety began to attack.

I recall my father yelling at me, "I won't look at your trashy trophy, and I'm not proud!" He claimed that painting is not a career and that I cannot earn a living from it. The benefit here is that dad let me choose the course I wanted, which is why I chose fine arts, but how could this freedom feel so lonely?

He spews his venom at me for not being the best. I held my tongue and waited until he was satisfied with the damage. I can't blame him; he's one of the most competitive people I've ever met. He was distraught. It’s like I’m trying to hold hot water in my bare hands. So cruel. He has such a terrible opinion of me. I value the arts in all of their forms.

I believe in the power of words and their ability to affect people. They have the power to make or break you. They can even kill you.

“You’re worthless! You deserved everything bad that happened to you! All the hate! Why won’t you just die?!” I screamed as I stood in front of the mirror, pointing to myself.

And he made me feel unloved and unworthy.

I was immersed in thought when I felt a tap on my shoulder.

He looks at me as if he’s reading my mind and my soul, “Hey, I got you now. You’re doing your absolute best. Stop trying to control everything around you. Stop it. Stop thinking about the outcome of every situation, just enjoy the moment. Don’t be hard on yourself, Olivia.” His tone is gentle.

“If everyone turns their back on you, then look at me. I’m your number one fan, remember? I hope that’s enough.” He mumbled.

In response, I gave him my genuine smile.

People have asked me if I’m okay with placing second or third, and I’ve always said yes. That's the response they're looking for. They don't care about me. They simply want to pique their interest. That's all there is to it. That's why, in the end, you're the only one left in the dark, bruised, and defeated.  You didn't get the kind of attention you were hoping for. Who would want to hear from someone like me? Nobody knows who I am. This is how the world works

Jesus! I sound like a petulant child.

The afternoon zephyr gently ruffled my hair a little. I'm seated in my school uniform on the far side of the school's reading sanctuary section's concrete gazebo, surrounded by trees whose leaves are already falling and scattering on the sidewalk. It's a peaceful spot. The sound of the page of the book I’ am reading hurt the silence of the surroundings.

It tells the story of a wise man who can't seem to find himself. He was enslaved to the standard that society and his family imposed on him. Because of his intelligence, he lacked a friend. His diary was his lone confidante. In this journal, he writes down all of his thoughts and the words that are stuck in his head.

Why do I have an affinity towards him? Perhaps because we are in a similar situation. I recognize myself in him and can relate to him. If he utilized a pen and paper to write down what was going through his mind. In turn, I used a paintbrush and a canvas to express my feelings and resentments in life.

I was so engrossed in my daydream that I didn't notice the mighty Austin lounging coolly against the jamb of the gazebo, hands in his pockets, and chewing his bubble gum, which he even inflated and chewed again. Yes, he is sometimes gross. He chuckles awkwardly at me and takes the chocolate cupcake from his pocket. He uses his teeth to peel it off.

“I wish you a very happy birthday, Olivia. And I'm sorry I won't be singing you a happy birthday song. Now, Olivia, make a wish.”

I lock my gaze on him. I consider myself extremely blessed to have him. I close my eyes and whisper to the wind.

“Break those shackles, and watch me fly.”

My room opens with a loud bang, waking me up. I could see his familiar shape in my hazy eyes.

“Join the contest and show me what you've got.” He spoke it loudly and authoritatively. My father's actions surprised me. Isn't that the truth? I heard it very clear. My nails dug into the palms of my hands so deeply.

Take the risk or lose the chance. I'd go with the former, despite my reservations.

I shield my face from the light with my right hand. He, too, squints from the sun. I'm not sure why we decided to go for a walk in the middle of the day. I'm perspiring, and his neck is flushed. He unlocked the door for me when we arrived at the school's art studio. The door is excessively large and heavy. To open it, he must use all of his strength.

“How come this old door won't let a handsome man like me in? If this door is a woman, I'd say she's just trying to get my attention.” He winks at me as he turns to face me.

This man!

I take a seat next to him and maintain a comfortable distance between us. We're currently practicing. The crickets could be heard all around us.

To be honest, I had lost track of what made me happy. I've run out of ideas, motivation, and energy. I didn't have anything to look forward to. I close my eyes tightly.

“Yes, you’re doing it right. Stroke it slowly. Don’t get frustrated,”

“Everything is mediocre,” I scream, hurling the paintbrush. He took it and returned it to me.

“Slow progress is better than no progress at all, Olivia,”

“Easy for you to say. You’re famous. You’re so good. No, you’re the best! The greatest! Everyone loves you. And me, I’ am no one. A good-for-nothing daughter. Tell me… when it will be me?”

He blinks several times. Because of his heavy breathing, I notice his shoulders bouncing up. He's chewing his lower lip. In his eyes, I can feel his exasperation and sorrow. He reaches for my face and gently caresses my cheek.

“You know what, I think I should call it quits. My dreams are shattered all around me. From the start, everything is wrong. I can't function properly,” I grumble. I'm furious at myself.

I'm losing control of everything. I'm losing interest in things that used to excite me. It’s like I'm no longer a part of anything. My cheeks are flushed with tears.

“If that’s wrong, then I don’t want to be right. And don’t compare your artworks to mine, or everyone, that’s just deadly. Everyone has their uniqueness. You are your person,” he whispers.

Despite his words, I am still empty. I'm desperate to get this emotion out of my system.

“It isn't that simple.”

The opinions of those around us have an impact on how we perceive ourselves. Austin, on the other hand, is arrogant, harsh, and blunt, but he can be a dark knight in sparkling armor. He sees right through people. He lives his life to the fullest.

I stare out the window. The car was moving so fast that the trees we were passing through swiftly vanished from my vision. I'm leaning against to it. I believe we are all dissatisfied individuals. We wish for something that we don't have. We envy people and things in various ways and on various levels. We wish to be that person and live their life. We desire things to satisfy ourselves. People are usually asking for something good, yet they are frequently asking for something bad. We just don't notice it, or if we do, we're too afraid to acknowledge it. People are also cynical.

I'm extremely nervous right now. Inside, my toes wiggled into my shoes. I can even hear my heartbeat in my ears and a strong throb against my skull. I'm feeling nauseous. My heartbeat quickened as fear swelled in my chest. Austin, on the other hand, appears to be a lost child at the playground. His eyes are shining with enthusiasm.

Today is the competition day. I used to think of him as my enemy, my tough opponent. But suddenly things are different.

“I'm drowning in anxiety and fear. Who wants to swim with me?” I asked him. We were in the park at the time. I'm sitting on the concrete bench, watching the kids play.

“Me. I can even bring some colorful floaters. You want that?” he answered me while licking his lollipop.

I lift my eyes and stare at him. He was looking at a large artwork in front of us, arms akimbo. He has a carefree smile on his face.

“This is it! The world has to be ready. We are here now, ready to conquer them,” He has a devilish grin on his face.

"Don't live too much in our head, Olivia. This time you are not alone,” He added, and continued watching the artwork, "I will not allow you."

The overthinking sucks that drove me to do some irrational things, as well as my anxiety, which accompanies me around and feeds my fear, are still here. Now all I have to do is revalue myself to forgive and love myself better. I'm going to improve with time.

And he’s with me now. We are here now. This is our now. This is the reality.

“And Olivia, it’s always been you.”

[the-chaotic-neutral]

Among current comic titles there are a handful that are acknowledged as classics in the making. Y: The Last Man, Monstress, The Walking Dead, though this last one possibly by sheer exposure and reputation more than the quality of the current story. One title that almost always comes up is Saga. Saga, by Brian K. Vaughan and Fiona Staples, is a sprawling mess of a comic that shouldn’t work but not only does, is amazing. It has been called out by everything from The Atlantic to Popular Mechanics. Lin-Manuel Miranda ‏gave it a shout-out in one of his many reading updates. It outsells The Walking Dead and is a huge hit for Image, its publisher.

And as of last week, with issue 54, Saga is on a hiatus to give the two creators behind it some time to work on other projects and rally their creative minds for the rest of the series. A hiatus that will last at least a year. Which is a perfect time to grab this book and catch up. A backlog of over 50 issues can be intimidating, but a year-long hiatus is the most welcoming way to get on the bandwagon. Think of it this way, that’s enough time to be able to catch up before anything else comes out so you won’t be overwhelmed with an impending release schedule. It’s also a comfort to know that they plan to go for at least 100 issues, so you won’t be investing all of your time in characters that will abruptly be dropped. It’s a win-win situation! I’ll also be candid with you: I have fallen behind on Saga. I accidentally let if fall through the gaps of my copious comic reading somewhere around issue #26 or so. And I’m going to use this hiatus to start the whole series over and catch up in one long, indulgent stretch.

So what is Saga about? It’s an epic space opera that spans planets. In the background is a civil war between Landfall and Wreath. Landfall is an enormous planet with a very high level of technology, whose inhabitants have insect-like wings. Wreath is its moon, with a race of horned people who utilize magic. In the forefront of the story is Marko, a prisoner of war from Wreath, and Alana, his Landfall guard. They are in love. When the first issue picks up, they are on the run and Alana is in labor. Soon, they and their daughter (Hazel) are being hunted by both sides. The technological Landfall sends the fittingly technological Prince Robot IV to hunt them down. While Wreath sends the rough and tumble bounty hunter named The Will, who has his pet/partner Lying Cat to assist him.

  Prince Robot IV

The Will and Lying Cat

The world of Saga is a mish-mash of everything. There is scifi, magic, ghosts, and professional wrestling. There are ex-es, expository masturbation scenes, meta-textual authors of in-universe trashy romance novels. But most of all, there are personal stories that drive every aspect of this bizarre genre mash-up. Prince Robot is half-heatedly but cruelly pursuing Marko and Alana to get home to his family. The Will seems to care about nothing, yet gives up fortune and success to rescue a young enslaved sex worker. Fiona Staple’s art may be lavishly inked, but the entire moral fabric of the Saga universe is painted in increasingly complex shades of grey.

Oh, that’s right. This book has some of the most gorgeous art laid out on every single page. Fiona Staples is a master at illustration and storytelling. Yes, everyone familiar with comics know that Brian K. Vaughn is a great storyteller because he’s a great writer. But far too often artists are not acknowledged for their part in a comic’s narrative. Staples’ does an absolutely astounding job grounding everyone’s emotions on the page. And when I say everyone I mean humans, humanoids, anthropomorphic animals, robots, ghosts, monsters, and the like. The alien landscapes, spaceships made from everything from metal and plastic to living trees, they all come across as real places because of her. There’s a reason that she has been nominated for a Harvey Award for best artist every year that this comic has been in publication. It’s also worth noting that she’s the artist for the entire run so far. Very often, long running titles will change up artists and while this can give the look of characters a refresher without actually changing their designs, it’s a selling point that this book has such a consistent look from the very first issue up through last week’s #54. It means that after five years of publication, these characters still look familiar. It means that when they age, they’re growing up with the same hand that created them. In the case of Hazel, literally from birth. So not only is it mind-boggling that the story works so well considering how scattershot the universe is, the fact that this book has continued with one writer/illustrator team since the onset is just as improbable and works just as beautifully.

If all of that isn’t reason enough to convince you, I’ll also throw this out there; the book is fun. And funny. The characters are smart and sometimes make stupid decisions. They can be impetuous and they can be patient. These characters feel like real people. The have histories that weigh on their present actions. They have personalities that can get them in and out of trouble. They have emotional cores that will make you rethink the political landscape and ongoing war over and over again. This book doesn’t have a wholly cruel Empire, nor does it have an emotionless Borg. This book has sides that have cobbled themselves together out of the self-interest of numerous planets and people and cultures. It is full of places that could never be, and yet could also be discovered tomorrow.

Ultimately this book is about real people living in unreal situations that sometimes mirror the worst this world has to offer. Alana and Marko argue that Hazel isn’t a symbol, which is an odd statement for characters in an epic saga to argue. But for real people and grounded characters, it’s the only reasonable thing to say. And in their world she is a symbol, a representation of a piece between two sides of a war that cannot end. But she’s also just their daughter, and our narrator. So what would that girl mean to you? Grab Saga and figure it out.

Saga #1

Saga #54

And pick up this book if for no other reason than to meet Lying Cat. For that alone, you’re welcome.

Cover Gallery for volumes 1-8 and the upcoming 9th.

An Epic Saga Among current comic titles there are a handful that are acknowledged as classics in the making. Y: The Last Man, Monstress, The Walking Dead, though this last one possibly by sheer exposure and reputation more than the quality of the current story.