#a bit of a change in direction for me but I like it

[1d1195]

Buttercup

~7.8k words

From me: I love a knight in shining armor moment. Grumpy sunshine, black cat and golden retriever kind of vibe. There are definitely some details missing on purpose here. Best of luck. Hope you like it 💕 Sorry for the delay in posting. What a week.

Warnings: dick ex-bf - cheating, emotional trauma, threatening. Angry Harry, neighbor Harry, some mentions of sex, a good bit of angst, and some fluff.

Summary: Harry's new neighbor is fun to prank. She just wants to tend to her garden and enjoy her chocolate in peace.

But it's... comforting to know Harry is right next door.

The boys that lived next door weren’t too loud, weren’t super messy, and they were easy on the eyes.

But that was the furthest she could compliment them.

Well, Louis was really lovely overall. He had a girlfriend that came by frequently (almost daily) and appeared to keep him in check. But there was no one to keep Harry in check. He walked around his yard in his boxers, got the mail in them even, and both greeted his sexual partner(s) then sent her on her way off his property the following morning in nothing but boxers as well.

All with a smug smile in her direction while he wore nothing but underwear and the ink etched on his unbelievably smooth skin.

Stupid hot people.

Regardless of what he was doing, he was always sure to irritate her if she was outside. “Hi Buttercup,” he cooed like they were old friends while she worked in her garden. It was clearly her favorite part of the house. It desperately needed a new coat of paint, and she didn’t care in the slightest. The flowers were more important, and she did a good job. Clearing the flowerbeds happened before all her boxes were officially inside her house.

She thought about the day she arrived.

When she moved in, she took a deep breath, pulled her hair into a ponytail and tugged it through the back of a baseball cap. One by one, she pulled a box out of her car and brought it inside. A storage pod was dropped in the driveway as well and then she began the same process after taking a short break while she looked at what she needed to do first. She leaned against her car and felt anxiety and a serious case of being overwhelmed start to fill her chest. She took deep breaths hoping the sugar she ingested would help ease her worried mind.

“Hey, neighbor!” She turned to the voice where a guy with brown hair and blue eyes smiled brightly at her. “I’m Louis, welcome to our neighborhood. It’s nice to meet you. Need help?”

She shook her head quickly. Almost defensive as she aimed to protect herself. “No, I’m alright, thank you.”

Louis glanced at her storage pod and tilted his head at her curiously. It was a lot to unpack on her own.

Metaphorically and literally.

“You’re sure?” He asked. “My roommate saw you from the window. Thought you were... well, not struggling... But it’s a lot to move for anyone. He’s changing, he’ll be right out to help too,” he explained and rubbed the back of his head. “My girlfriend was on the phone and overheard Harry, and she insisted as well.”

She thought that he was nice. A friendly neighbor if there ever was one. But the wall of anxiety she put up and the nerve she was feigning to keep up was battling something fierce. “Right,” she cleared her throat. She would need an ally. There was no one in this new town for her and Louis seemed nice.

Levi seemed nice too... she thought.

Shaking her head she tried to rid herself of the negative outlook. Louis wasn’t Levi. “That... that’s really nice. Thank you. If you’re sure.”

Louis’ best friend and roommate Harry soon joined them. Introduced himself and she sincerely thought they were just two nice guys who would be decent neighbors.

The second they dropped the first load of her stuff safely inside Harry began his pranks. “Is this box labeled underwear up for grabs?”

There was no box labeled underwear. She knew that. But it still made her cheeks burn with embarrassment even though Louis rolled his eyes as if was used to it. Which she supposed he was. “Christ, Harry,” Louis sighed and pinched between his eyes. “I’m sorry, love. We don’t let him out of the house much.”

She looked at him with an eye roll. He was cute. She would give him that.

Well, hot.

Enticing green eyes, sinewy muscles, and a smile so bright it could put the sun to shame. He knew he was hot. There was no way he didn’t. But she wasn’t going to let him get to her.

“Where are y’moving from?” Harry asked.

“Uh...” she shook her head trying to remember what lie she was supposed to say. But then went with most of the truth. “Just upstate, a few hours away. I got a new job and whatnot.”

“New modeling job?”

“Boo...” Louis droned, grumbling as he moved boxes labeled kitchen into the correct room. “If you’re going to embarrass yourself, you could use better material.”

“This is m’best material, Lou,” he scowled at his friend. Her cheeks were still burning at his shameless flirting.

“I know he’s obnoxious, but he’s harmless,” Louis rolled his eyes.

“Excuse you, Louis. M’not obnoxious.”

“The shit you say,” he shook his head.

“I jus’ think you’re gorgeous,” his eyelashes did all the flirting for him when his words stopped.

But whether Harry was flirting or not, she didn’t want to flirt with her neighbor. Didn’t want to have a boyfriend. Certainly not one with all the charisma he had around her.

Even if he was flirty and charming.

And hot.

There was no denying how hot Harry was.

So she would have to be careful.

*

“Looking good, Buttercup.”

She glared at the tulip bulbs she was planting in front of her door for the spring. She adjusted the planters of mums placed on the porch steps. A variety of gold, orange, brown and red. Perfect for fall and the idyllic picture for a magazine cover. There were pumpkins on the side of the bottom step greeting anyone at her home with the pretty festive colors. A cute scarecrow was staked among fake corn stalks and hay beside the pumpkins.

It was unseasonably warm for November but for the last two months, and even though Harry drove her crazy, she wanted to be outside enjoying the sunshine and fresh air while she could. She had listened to Harry’s flirting with her since the moment she moved in. He was blatant about it. But in the same timeframe, she watched him with women coming and going. Of course, it didn’t bother her one bit who he spent his time with; that was his choice, and he had no obligation to her or the women he took home as long as he wasn’t a complete douchebag to them.

But Harry always seemed to be there. He was there when she got her mail. There when she got home from work. There when she was going to work. It didn’t matter. Didn’t he have to work? “Are businesses too intelligent to hire you?”

“No?” He chuckled phrasing it as a question.

“Just assumed, since you’re never at work.”

He snorted. “Funny.” She continued tending to her flowers. “I work from home.”

Perfect. So he would continue to always be there. Some people had all the luck.

He wasn’t in his boxers for a change. An interesting change of pace. He was in a pair of plain jogging pants and a plain T-shirt, yet he was the one that looked like a model for Nike.

Men had it so easy being attractive. A pair of workout pants and a T-shirt that outlined his pectorals way too tightly was all it took to get her flustered.

He sat beside her and watched her work. “Y’should do our garden, next Buttercup. Looks so nice the way y’put everything together.”

She paused and stared at him. His eyes roamed her little planters and across the weedless yard. He smiled at her as his gaze returned to hers. “You’re making fun of me,” she scowled.

“Kitten,” he pressed a hand over his heart, looking affronted. “I would never make fun of you.”

She looked back at the dirt that was under her nails. She focused on the feeling of it rather than the feeling of dread she felt around Harry. He was so confident in himself and in everything he did. It was annoying. His stupid green eyes and his dumb smile. She couldn’t fall for it again. No matter how sincere he sounded.

“Y’look really pretty in y’garden,” his voice was gentle. Like he was worried she was going to throw something at him. She had considered it. Her trowel seemed like it could do some damage. But she was trying not to be completely ridiculous just because Harry was a pain.

And sickening.

And irritating.

And cute.

Fortunately, she had a list of things to remind herself of that he was a nuisance. Not to mention there were his pranks that made her crazy.

He sprayed her with the hose when she wasn’t looking. Sent mail to her house for porn addiction making the mailman look at her with a smirk before she screamed at Harry (which didn’t help the look the mailman was giving her). At the beginning of October, he put a Halloween mask outside her window to scare her when she woke up so terrifyingly that Louis and Eleanor rushed over in their pajamas. While nothing was irreparable or worth putting her into therapy, the jokes made her mad because Harry always made her mad. He was too good looking and too there all the time.

Instead, she continued weeding and planting. Making the previously bare flower beds green and brown with freshly overturned dirt. It was calming. Being in the garden, the yard. Dirt on her hands and the sun on her back.

“Cat got your tongue, Buttercup?” He joked.

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“The more y’ignore me, kitten, jus’ makes me want y’more.”

“I wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole.”

“Ugh, will you marry me?”

“You’re so ridiculous, Harry.”

“God, y’drive me wild.”

She continued digging in the dirt. “If you’re going to sit there and be annoying, can you at least be useful and hand me the watering can?”

Harry silently grabbed the can and poured the water into the hole, watching her carefully. “I used t’garden with m’Mum.”

“You didn’t just spawn from the ground climbing out of hell?”

Harry chuckled quietly. “No, m’mum’s a saint,” he said with a smile. The fondness in his voice and reverence for her made her heart skip a beat. He was so annoying but that was undoubtedly beyond sweet. Even if it was Harry saying it.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to insult your mother.”

“Y’didn’t. I know what y’meant,” he chuckled. “Mum would like you,” he told her. Which absolutely terrified her because mothers often did. It made things more complicated. Like it had in the past.

“She would like me? I’m an absolute bitch to you, Harry.”

“Hey,” he frowned. “Don’t say that,” the sincerity in his voice continued making her throat catch on any rebuttal she wanted to say in return. The pucker of skin between his eyebrows made her want to reach out and smooth his skin. His frown made her sad too. Before she could push the feeling away, he spoke again. “You’re funny. Stubborn. Adorable. Mum would like that y’keep me grounded,” he complimented.

“Keeping you grounded is the nice way of saying bitchy.”

He sighed, irritation practically rolling off him in waves. That was new. “Seriously, kitten. Knock it off,” he shook his head disappointedly.

She blinked, surprised by the genuine tone. “You’re serious?”

“Jus’ because y’say it ‘bout yourself doesn’t make it better.”

For a whole minute she seriously thought about how easy it would be to fall for Harry. He was handsome, intelligent, kind, and funny. Even if he was obnoxious. Louis and Eleanor kept him around for a reason, right? For God’s sake he wouldn’t let her call herself a bitch. Who did that?! “Um... sorry?”

“Apology not accepted. You’ll have t’go on a date with me. S’the only way t’make it up t’me.”

She rolled her eyes and turned back to the bulbs she was planting. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Alright fine; I’ll jus’ have t’think of something else,” he sighed, pausing, like he was really thinking about how she could make it up to him.

Then he smeared a clod of cold, wet dirt across her cheek.

She spluttered trying to avoid dirt in her mouth and reached out to smack him. However, he was nearly giggling, practically running back to his house before she could register what really happened and retaliate. “See y’later, Buttercup!” He called.

*

One of Harry’s ongoing pranks involved slipping his phone number into her contacts early on when he met her. It happened shortly after she moved in, and it allowed him to send her memes and inappropriate messages (not the kind of unsolicited messages that only complete dicks sent to women who did not want them) but the ones that he found on the internet. Inappropriate jokes. Innuendos.

But he also texted her when he was heading to the grocery store to see if she needed anything. But in the time that they exchanged messages, she never started the conversations. It was always a Leave me alone Harry. No thank you. Can you stop staring out the window like a creep? If she needed something she asked Louis, which honestly upset him to a degree, but he understood. Harry came on strong when he met her. Not that he would change that, but it wasn’t unreasonable of her to feel standoffish to him.

God, was she beautiful. Harry loved seeing her in the yard. Made it a point to drop everything he was doing and go get a closer look. He was drawn to her. Moth to a flame. The whole bit. She was so funny, even when she was grumpy. He wasn’t joking when he told her that her ignoring him made him want her more.

She was a hard worker and left early in the morning and returned well into dinner time. While the weather was nice, she would sit on her porch and read or work tirelessly on her perfect garden. She was lovely. Harry could see it from afar and he was bummed she didn’t catch on to his shameless flirting the way he had hoped when he first saw her.

One of these days I’d like you to text me instead of Louis when you need something. Louis already has a girlfriend.

From the looks of it you have PLENTY of options for a girlfriend.

Jealous?

Of getting a disease? No. I’m good.

Your green thumb is spreading, Buttercup. It’s not your color.

You can ignore me all you want. Just think about it. It doesn’t have to be a thing. I just want you to know I’m happy to help you if you need it. Not just Louis.

Also, I’m clean in case you ever want to explore that side of things too 😉

Surprisingly, she ignored that message too.

*

Harry felt like he was going through withdrawals from her. He hadn’t even seen her in the yard. Between the rain and their work schedules, it was like he couldn’t get a glimpse of her pretty being tending to the weeds, reading her book, or anything. His joke asking her what she plays with at night that also vibrates went unanswered.

Maybe he should have stopped sending her inappropriate jokes, but the fact she hadn’t blocked him gave him the shred of hope he desperately wanted. Maybe if she had blocked him it would get through his head that she was out of his league, and she wasn’t interested.

I’m heading home to shower, change, and then I’ll come grab you. It was Niall though, and not her reply to his joke.

Harry put cologne on and settled in the living room quietly scrolling through his social media looking at the time stamp from his message, almost a whole day ago. Frowning, he returned to scrolling and waiting for Niall. Not thinking much of anything of merit as he did.

But then that little notification slid from the top of his phone making his heart bounce with excitement.

Harry, are you home?

Is it finally happening?! 😍

There was no response and Harry thought he ruined their moment. Even if he believed her when she said they would never sleep together, he was glad she was talking to him. He was worried his latest prank had gone too far.

Harry’s car was in the garage, and he had almost every light off since he was leaving soon, so it was a fair question since she couldn’t see the back of his house where he was hiding in his room.

I was kidding, Buttercup. I’m home. You could have just come over to ask though.

There was still no response, but he kept his phone in hand waiting and holding his breath. Hoping something would come through from her again.

Pick some flowers from my yard.

Come knock on the door like we’re supposed to be going on a date.

Please.

And hurry.

Please.

What?

...?

Kitten...what’s wrong?

He tried calling her immediately, but it went right to voicemail, like she had turned her phone off after sending her last message.

What the hell. Why aren’t you answering your phone?

This isn’t funny, Buttercup...

You’re making me nervous.

If this was a retaliation prank it went way too far. Way further than putting the mini popping firecrackers under her tires before she left for work. The very one that got her so mad, he thought she was going to call the cops finally. The one that made her ignore him for days on end despite the messages he sent.

But this wasn’t funny. Not even a little. Her safety and security weren’t things Harry liked to joke about because despite everything, he was possessive about her. And frankly, he adored her. Even if she wasn’t his to obsess over nor adore.

But he wasn’t going to ignore her any longer than he had to. He nearly sprinted out the door, swiping randomly at her pretty flowers and feeling horrible that he was pulling her precious plants after all the hard work she put into them. It seemed silly to spend time doing this, but he didn’t want to fuck up what she asked him to do. Not when her messages seemed so worrisome. Not when she didn’t answer. With a fresh bouquet in hand, he hurried to the front door. Fortunately, he was dressed for a night out. Niall would be on his way to pick him up; so, he was, in theory, date ready. But the thought of being with Niall and not home when she needed him terrified him further. Thank God he was home.

Harry had no idea what was on the other side of her door, but it was embarrassingly late in the moment that he realized there was a car in the driveway he hadn’t seen before. At once he realized she never had company. Which only made him even more anxious.

Swallowing, he knocked firmly.

The door flew open within ten seconds of his knock. The relief in her eyes made Harry feel sick. What was she so nervous about? What could make her that nervous, that seeing him made her at ease? She was constantly irritated by his presence. The moment only made him feel worse. “Harry, right on time,” she smiled sweetly. She was a good actress. If she hadn’t texted Harry so urgently, he wouldn’t be looking for signs of trouble, wouldn’t see the relief in her eyes, and he would have no idea that something was wrong.

“Hi kitten, don’t y’look beautiful,” he cooed leaning down to press a kiss to her cheekbone as if he had done it a thousand times before. Gratefully, he had imagined it about a thousand times, so it probably looked as natural as it felt. Plus, she was beautiful. Always. The acting came naturally to him as well. His arm wrapped around her waist in the same movement instinctively. His eyes fell to the man standing a few feet back watching her like a hawk. His gaze was territorial and possessive; Harry didn’t care for that at all. Even if she wasn’t Harry’s, she definitely wasn’t his either.

But Harry was possessive, and he was there because she asked him to be there. Something he got the feeling the other man did not have permission for. He knew he shouldn’t have felt possessive of her, but he would pretend all the same if it meant the worry in her eyes would go away.

He handed her the bouquet he plucked only moments before and threaded their fingers together; another movement that felt like he had done before and not for the very first time that second. “Let’s get a vase,” he suggested and kept his eyes on him. It wasn’t lost on him how easily her fingers fit between his, the way their palms touched, or how her grip tightened ever so slightly when she settled her grip in his. “Hey,” he nodded his head in greeting.

The guy ignored Harry. His eyes glaring at the pretty girl beside him. “You’re seriously telling me you’ve been dating this guy since the moment you moved in?”

Her cheeks burned red, and Harry kissed the top of her head tucking her toward his chest protectively. Harry didn’t care for it at all. If the anxiety in her texts, expressions, and body language wasn’t enough evidence, then the way she leaned further into his chest despite everything and how annoyed she was by him, certainly was. “M’Harry,” his voice was firm. Pointed. “And you are?”

He grunted, shook his head. “The fuck, babe?” He snapped. She didn’t respond, simply glanced up to meet Harry’s gaze. She blinked unsurely at Harry, unable to find her next move. Harry nudged her gently toward the kitchen.

“Do y’have a name or what?” Harry grumbled over his shoulder as he made a show of caressing her while she found a vase. Her hands were shaking slightly as she placed the vase in the sink. Fortunately, Harry saw it immediately and tugged the glass from her grip, pulling her hand back in his. Even if it was impractical and stupid looking while he placed the vase with one hand in her sink to finish what she was doing.

“Levi,” he snapped. “We apparently used to date.”

Harry felt her body deflate. He wondered why. Was it the prospect of dating this asshole? Was it the phrase used to? What happened before he got here?

“Well, Levi, glad we’re on the same page and you’re using the past tense. M’here t’take my girlfriend on a date,” he pressed his body around hers, bracketing her body against the sink. She kept her eyes down, away from Levi’s gaze. Her body felt so warm against his it made him wish this wasn’t for show. Instead, he bent down to kiss the crook of her neck and shoulder hoping she wouldn’t hate him later over it.

He was really into pretending. She squeezed his hands that were wrapped around hers against the edge of counter. Was that a thanks? Was that a sigh he imagined when he kissed her skin? God, she smelled good.

“M’not sure exactly what’s going on here, but m’getting a good sense that she doesn’t want y’here. So maybe s’a good time t’go before I have t’escort y’out of the house.”

He snorted and shook his head. He glared at Harry as he spoke, but her eyes were still cast down toward the sink. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re playing at, babe. You can try and fool me all you want. But I’m not stupid. I’ll come back when your boyfriend isn’t around,” he left the kitchen and slammed her front door shut as he exited. Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Begrudgingly, he left her by the sink and went to the front door, peering out the small window right next to the frame. He watched while Levi pulled out of her driveway and down the road. Harry stood and watched, waiting for the sound of his car to completely disappear before he felt he wasn’t coming back any time soon. Harry locked her deadbolt.

“Who was that—” He started as he turned back for the kitchen, but his heart practically broke at the sight of his stubborn, fearless, and utterly pretty neighbor teary eyed and shaken to the core. She left the kitchen near silently it seemed but stopped in the hall right before the entryway of the front door. He didn’t even hear her approach. “Hey,” he cooed coming closer. “Buttercup,” he frowned when she didn’t respond to her nickname. “Hey,” it was like he was approaching a wounded, wild animal. He didn’t want to scare her, but God did he want to protect her. God, did he want to hold her again. “Love, he’s gone. I—” He wanted to reach out for her and pull her into his embrace again, but something about her looked off. The anxiety written all over her face made him nervous and sad.

He zoned in on her hands; they were shaking by her sides worse than the way she held the vase. Her eyes were so fucking sad looking Harry wanted to scream. “Kitten,” he tried again. “Can I...?” He reached for her again. “M’not going to...” all his sentences were half finished as he tried to figure out why the fuck Levi scared her so badly. All he wanted was to comfort her. She was too sweet and pretty to look so terrified. When she never looked scared of anything. “Buttercup,” he murmured again.

She sniffled and swiped at her eyes. “I’m fine,” but her voice was barely audible over the sound of it getting caught around the emotion in her throat.

“Hey, s’okay t’not be okay. M’here,” he promised holding his hands out to her. “Can I touch you?” He asked. She shook her head quickly. It hurt like hell for her to say no. Harry thought he was seriously going to cry. “Okay, okay,” he stuffed his hands in his pockets because he didn’t trust himself not to try and comfort her and the last thing that he ever wanted to do was break her trust and consent. “Baby, you’re breaking my heart,” he pouted and watched as she was starting to shake like she was in the middle of a blizzard without a coat. “Come sit,” he begged. “Please.”

She obeyed and Harry went to her kitchen and found a glass in the cabinet as if this was his own house. He got water from the dispenser on her fridge, and he brought it to her. Her hands were still shaking violently, and her tears were flowing but not a sound other than a quiet sniffle left her. “Here, Buttercup,” he mumbled.

She sniveled and wiped her eyes as she took the cup from him. He avoided brushing her fingers with his and he paced in front of the coffee table. His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he caught sight of the time. “Fuck,” he muttered. Pressing the phone to his ear he glanced out the window. “Sorry Niall. Can’t come out,” he ran a hand on the back of his head. She perked up at his words.

“Harry,” she whispered.

“No... I don’t know.... I just need t’be here for her,” he mumbled.

“Harry, you don’t—”

He silenced her with a look while her words died in her throat with another little whimper. Being vulnerable was hard for her. Obviously. Harry wondered if she knew how difficult it was for him to watch her look so upset and scared and not comfort her. If he knew letting go of her in the kitchen meant he wouldn’t get to touch her again, he wouldn’t have let go to start.

He hung up without hearing Niall’s response and he put his phone in his back pocket.

“If you have plans—”

“I don’t,” he interrupted shaking his head quickly. “Jus’ a date with a pretty girl,” he sat across from her on the coffee table making sure that not even his knee bumped against her. His eyes were following her every breath. Every tiny movement and flinch. The nervousness he felt was painful. Waiting for something to make sense. The water in her glass rippled and practically splashed over the side from how hard she was shaking. Harry wanted nothing more than to take it from her grip. But instead, he patiently waited until she sipped it.

“I’m okay,” her voice was nothing more than air. Even if it wasn’t, Harry wouldn’t believe her.

“Baby,” he frowned. “No one sends a message like that if they’re not worried about their safety. I’m worried ‘bout your safety. So don’t pretend t’be okay if you’re not. I’ll stay all night, sitting right here, and stare at you.”

She snorted. “That sounds like watching paint dry.”

He shrugged. “You’re far more interesting and prettier than paint drying.”

She swiped at her eyes again looking at her lap. “He cheated on me.”

“What a fucking moron,” he mumbled and tilted his head at the ceiling. Harry would never understand how the luckiest men in the world treated lovely, beautiful girls like her as if they were nothing. “He wants y’back?”

She shrugged, shook her head, and nodded. “I don’t know.”

“Do you want him back?”

She whimpered and shook her head. Squeezing her eyes shut so tight, he worried she was going to split open her lids. “God, no,” she whispered.

Harry sighed, rubbed his palms on his thighs. “Can y’talk t’me, kitten? M’not leaving unless y’tell me to. Do y’want me t’leave?” It would kill him. Sincerely, truly kill him. But if she didn’t want him there, he would go.

“I can’t,” she was sobbing. It was killing him. It hurt so much not to hold her and comfort her.

“Okay, okay. I’ll... I’ll jus’... go back t’my house... Yeah? If y’need something, jus’...” he rubbed a hand over his face feeling like he was walking on a bed of glass saying the words. “Call, text, throw rocks at m’window,” he stood, mindful to not bump her knee. He smiled weakly at his own joke. It wasn’t returned. He didn’t know what to do or say. He didn’t know how to help the sweet, lovely girl. The smile fell from his lips when she didn’t respond. “Jus’... lock the door behind me, Buttercup, yeah?”

It felt like he was walking toward his death, but he left her living room and waited until he heard her deadbolt lock before he descended her porch steps.

*

She dropped the glass of water Harry gave her in the kitchen after she let Harry leave. It shattered into a million microscopic pieces and the flowers from her garden looked so unbelievably pretty she wished Harry really was taking her on a date.

She covered her mouth around another broken sob. Her eyes felt red and raw, and the pressure of her sinuses and the front of her forehead ached beyond words. She was safe. She was okay. But her chest hurt.

Levi was gone. Harry came to her rescue. After she was mean and grumpy toward him. Trying to protect her heart after it hurt six ways to Sunday because of the man that let himself into her home without permission. Harry didn’t even try to touch her without permission. She could tell he wanted to. Hell, she wanted him to... but everything hurt, and she was just so scared.

Maybe it was too late. But she needed him. Really needed Harry to hold her and comfort her. Her mind ran rampant with thoughts of how lovely it was to be held by him. The kiss on her skin. He was warm and solid. Safe. That’s what she wanted. To feel safe. Her heart ached with want.

Immediately after the thought of his warm solid body around hers, she raced out of the kitchen and unlocked her door. She was ready to fly down the steps of her porch, cross her yard and his hoping he would have the door open before she even arrived.

But Harry was already there; at the bottom of the third and final step of her porch.

He never even left.

Harry stood and turned as soon as he heard the deadbolt open, standing only seconds before she was ready to blow right past him. “Oh, thank God,” he whispered to himself.

Without any more pause, she was in his embrace. Her arms around his neck and she sobbed openly into his shoulder. His hands felt so big and safe on her body, just as she predicted.

He hummed something into her hair. Something like “M’here,” in his gravelly, pretty voice. “I have you,” he soothed. “Oh kitten, m’so sorry,” his voice sounded like he wanted to cry as much as she was. Poor Harry. He didn’t deserve to feel so sad. Not because of her and her messed up life. “C’mon, Buttercup,” he scooped behind her knees and cradled her as he carried her back inside to her sofa, locking the door behind them as he entered.

“Don’t leave me, please,” she begged, sniffling into his shirt.

“Never, baby. Never, ever, ever,” he promised rubbing her back. “Not unless y’ask.”

Her lower lip wobbled. “But I will ask,” she sniffed. “Because I’m too much. I’m sad, scared, broken, and damaged.”

“Y’not any of those things, kitten. Certainly not damaged, Buttercup.”

“But I am,” she whimpered. “You have no idea. He messed me up so bad... and I... I don’t,” she choked. “I pushed you away already.”

It wasn’t much, but the little bit she opened up her heart to him meant the world to him. It was almost as good as holding her. But nothing could replace that feeling now that he had it. He stroked her face with the back of his hand. “I wasn’t far,” he shrugged.

He didn’t even leave her porch. Was he going to stay out there all night? Her heart felt achy, and her eyes were already raw with tears but if they weren’t she would have cried at the thought of her obnoxious neighbor sleeping on the bottom step of her porch in the cold all because she was broken.

“You just wanted to help, and touch and hold me, and I wouldn’t let you—”

“Kitten,” he said sternly. He cupped below her jaw and stared right into her pupils like he was speaking directly to her soul. “Let’s get one thing very clear. I will never touch you without permission. No one has any right t’touch you unless y’ask.”

A sob escaped her throat and then she buried her face against his chest. His body was so broad and warm. She imagined if they were without heat or power, she would still be warm. “But I want you to touch me. All the time. Every second I’m around you,” there was no use denying it. Not when she couldn’t lift her face from his shirt.

Harry sighed with relief. “Well good,” he squeezed her affectionately. “Baby,” he stroked his thumb below her eye. “What happened?”

She shivered and Harry pulled the blanket that was on the back of her sofa over them. Her personality was huge and beautiful. She invaded Harry’s every thought. In the same room, she was in every air particle. Outside in her garden she was every little piece of dirt, petal, stem, root and all. She was larger than life.

It killed him she felt so small in his arms.

“I knew he was cheating, and he didn’t want me to leave,” she sniffed. Harry nodded, his teeth ground together. His jaw tensed. Waiting for her to continue. “He said I was overreacting. Our relationship was stale, and we just needed something to spice things up.”

She turned her face to his shirt and Harry cupped the back of her head, his fingers sliding and massaging his fingertips against the back of her skull. “He’s an idiot, Buttercup. A stupid, idiotic, horrible excuse for a man,” he grumbled.

She swallowed and didn’t say anything for a few moments. Harry holding her felt like medicine was sinking into her skin and directly into her bloodstream. Harry didn’t force her to speak. He didn’t ask questions. He just held her. She was sure he wanted to know more. Wanted to know all the gritty details that resulted in her moving in the middle of the night and finding this house next to his.

But there was only one thing she could think about.

“Why do you call me Buttercup?” She whispered.

Harry didn’t answer for several seconds. His free hand was on the small of her back, pressing gently to get her frame even closer to his. “Can I kiss right here?” He asked ignoring her question. He brushed his thumb along her temple. She nodded and Harry followed the brush of his thumb with his lips.

“That’s nice,” she murmured.

He chuckled. “Jus’ wait ‘til y’get a real kiss,” he promised. “Gonna make y’fall in love with me.”

She didn’t want to tell him she already had because that seemed ridiculous. So ridiculous it made her a little breathless. “That good hmm?” She hummed.

“Never had a complaint.”

“That’s obvious,” she smirked.

He rolled his eyes. “I didn’t sleep with all of them.”

“Not my business.”

“But it is... M’a gentleman first, kitten. Mum taught me well. I just like t’make m’date feel good,” he explained. “Doesn’t always include... y’know,” he shrugged one shoulder. “I know I drove y’crazy walking them out in m’boxers.”

“No, you didn’t,” she lied.

He chuckled. “S’okay t’admit it, kitten; don’t know what I would have done if y’had someone over and flaunted a date in jus’ your underwear.”

“You were trying to make me jealous?”

“I didn’t think y’were that stubborn.”

She wasn’t sure if Harry was avoiding her question or trying to distract her, but she still wanted an answer. “Why?” She asked quietly again.

“Why what?”

“Why do you call me buttercup?”

He sighed, kissed her temple again turning her insides warm and mushy. He didn’t speak for a few seconds like he didn’t really want to tell her. “Y’were eating a peanut buttercup,” he mumbled. “When y’moved in. Y’have wrappers all over the floor of y’car. On Halloween, y’didn’t pass out any of them, but I saw them in the grocery bags I carried in for you one time.”

She bit her lip wondering how she didn’t put it together. It was incredible he noticed that. “They’re my favorite,” her voice no more than air once more.

“And you’re mine,” he assured her, cupping the side of her face. “M’not going t’let him hurt you. I’ll break every bone in his body and mine if I have to.”

She blushed. “You don’t have to—”

“Buttercup, m’not joking,” he said cutting off her protest. “Y’don’t have t’be scared because m’never going t’let him get close t’you ever again,” he promised.

“He just said he was going to... wait until you leave, Harry. You can’t promise that.”

“Guess I won’t leave. Or you’ll have t’come home with me.”

“Harry,” she croaked.

“Kitten, m’not messing around with y’safety,” he reminded her. “I can stay here on the couch and y’can stay in your bed. It doesn’t have t’be a thing. M’staying t’keep y’safe. Don’t read into it if y’don’t want to.”

But she wanted to read into it. God, did she want to. Harry dropped everything the moment she texted him from the bathroom in a panic. He was only next door. Didn’t she want to believe all his pranks were his way of flirting? Didn’t she want to believe he liked her more than just annoying her?

She swallowed like there was something stuck in her throat. He didn’t deserve a mess. He deserved one of the effortlessly beautiful girls that he brought home. The kind that knew how to curl their own hair and where to draw the contour lines when they did their makeup. “You don’t have to stay,” she shook her head.

“Kitten,” he tutted.

“No seriously—”

“You’re deflecting, baby.”

“I’m just—”

“Buttercup,” Harry’s hands felt so warm and perfect against her skin. He brought his other hand to her bare cheek. It looked like he was trying not to cry himself when she met his gaze. “You just told me y’would try t’push me away. I don’t want t’go. But I will. I’ll sleep on your porch if y’want me too,” he offered. “Please,” he whispered quietly. Gently, like he was worried he was going to scare her. “Don’t ask me t’leave you.”

There was a long pause. “Stay,” she murmured into his hand. Because she was too exhausted and scared to tell him to leave. Pressing her lips against his palm, she met his gaze and watched the hope bloom in his eyes with just one little word. “Please... please stay.”

Harry sighed with relief, pulling her tightly toward him and nodding. “Course, Buttercup. Of course.”

*

It had become routine. She arrived home from work, and there was Harry. Sitting on the bottom step of her porch. He waited for her while she gathered her belongings from her car. His smile was so stunning. Like a streetlight on a dark road. Bright, beautiful, and all for her. “Hey Buttercup,” he hummed as she approached. He stood and pulled the bag off her shoulder and carried it for her. It wasn’t even heavy. In the same movement, he pecked her cheek and pressed a hand to her lower back like he had done for the last six weeks since he started seeing her exclusively. Not a single girl with perfectly curled hair had been his driveway. No one with expertly contoured makeup. Harry stopped walking around his yard in his boxers (but now she wished he did it more). As he guided her toward the front door, he continued grinning like an idiot. “Did your day get better after lunch, kitten?”

She nodded, his encouraging text sent at lunchtime was meant to ease the frustration he could sense through her messages. It wasn’t lost on him that as much as he used to enjoy her frustration, he wanted nothing more than to ease it now. “M-hmm,” she smiled at him. “You?”

“Better now that you’re home.”

She rolled her eyes at him because while he stopped pranking her so much, he replaced it with the cheesiest thoughts and lines known to man. But there was no denying how it made her heart flutter. “Did you want to go out to eat?” She asked.

He shrugged, then nodded. “We can if y’want.”

“I don’t really feel like cooking.”

“Me either.”

“Let me change and we’ll go.” Harry was looking at her strangely. The kind of face he made when he pulled pranks on her before he officially swept her off her feet. Maybe she was wrong, and the pranks were coming back.

Maybe there were those mini firecrackers under her toilet seat. “What?”

“Nothing, jus’... think y’look pretty,” his smile was too devilish (and handsome). He knew what he was doing. she shook her head and snorted. But Harry saw the way her cheeks turned pink at the compliment. He watched her head to her bedroom. When she stopped in the doorway, his smile bloomed. Her pause to look at her room as if it wasn’t hers made his heart skip a beat. “S’matter, Buttercup?”

“There are like a hundred peanut butter cups on my bed,” she told him. Like he didn’t already know. Orange wrappers lined up in the shape of a heart along her bed spread.

“107, actually,” She turned to look at him. He shrugged. “It would have 110, but I needed a snack.”

She wanted to smile. But her heart was beating fast, her emotions overwhelming her. She bit the inside of her lip. “Why?”

“Y’said y’were having a bad day.”

Her lip felt raw from biting it, behind her eyes prickled with tears. “Oh.”

“S’nice? Yeah?” He wondered and made his way to her, putting his hand on her lower back. He kissed her temple. “Kitten?” She nodded and turned her head toward him, hiding her face against his shoulder and trying to quell the emotion that was threatening to come out of her. “Hey, s’wrong, Buttercup?” He frowned. “Do y’want t’order take away instead?” He rubbed her arm soothingly.

She shook her head, then nodded, followed by a shrug. “I don’t know,” she sniffed.

“Aw, baby, don’t cry,” he hummed. “S’okay,” he reassured her. He didn’t even know why she needed reassurance. “S’jus’ some candy.” She sniffled again and Harry kissed the top of her hair. “M’gonna make sure y’feel good all the time, Buttercup,” he promised.

Her chest felt so overwhelmingly warm and achy in the best way. She nodded against him wishing she could tuck herself further into his strong body where she felt like nothing bad could happen. The change in relationship was a lot to absorb. But it was easy in a lot of ways. Harry was sweeter than she ever imagined he could be. Or maybe she was biased now that she got kisses, and he held her like she was the most precious thing he had ever touched. It killed her in hindsight how standoffish she had been to him. The thought of ignoring him made her feel sick to her stomach.

“I think you really will,” she mumbled into his shirt. He chuckled, kissed the top of her head. “Thank you, Harry,” she whispered.

“Y’never have to thank me, kitten,” he shrugged. “Sorry I was so annoying.”

“I suppose it worked,” she sniffed.

He chuckled. “I knew it would.”

“You did not.”

“I did so,” he said petulantly. “Or I hoped it would.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t know why you would want someone so mean.”

“Jus’ makes me want y’more,” he joked and rubbed his thumb over her lower lip. “M’gonna kiss y’now, kitten,” his way of warning her and asking for permission. It hurt that he felt he had to ask. But Harry was nothing if not thorough and sure in asking for her consent.

“Don’t ever stop,” she sighed dreamily.

He chuckled again and leaned in to follow his promise. “M’pleasure, Buttercup.”

--

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I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist here

[meo-eiru]

DUDE I JUST PLAYED THROUGH THE GAME, WHY IS IT SO SADDDD😭😭😭

and why is he hot

Starling went through quite a few redesigns through the entire development process so let me talk about it a bit :3

It all started with this notes app drawing I made with my finger

Right from the start we knew his tail would be made out of tongues but figuring out how many and placed how was quite hard, I really had to girlmath my way thru

This was the first actual drawing I made of him. The story wasn't complete yet but I went ahead and designed something anyway. Here he was definitely "scarier" and his scar was also placed differently. He had gills on his neck but as you will see I changed their location to under his arms later on. We were actually considering not giving him a tongue of his own so I wanted to make his mouth terrifyingly big and empty.

Here I tried giving him bigger eyes like a fish. This was when his playful and childlike personality had started shaping as you can see from the expressions. I definitely liked this direction better but it also wasn't perfect just yet so I went ahead and did a few more changes

I slowed down on trying to figure out his design a bit after that and instead focused on how his sprite would look. He is a merman after all, he can't just stand straight like a lot of the other visual novel characters. This stage was PAINFUL.

These were the first ones I sketched, we ended up deciding we liked the 3rd one the best.

I carried that 3rd one over to another canvas and started playing around with how we could place his tail, we started entertaining the idea of having him sit on a big rock

This is when his pose really shaped up. The animated Little Mermaid movie was actually a big inspiration, I sat and rewatched the entire movie and studied how they animated her tail

And after that I finally finalized his design. We decided to change the end of his tail to be more eel like for aesthetic purposes (normal tail shape looked weird with tongues)

And for anyone wondering this is what Maelyn looked like at first. Since the story wasn't complete yet I thought it'd take place in a more modern setting and designed her with that in mind but we decided to have the story take place in 1800s so I changed the design based on that. I did a lot of research on glasses and corsets to make the design as accurate as I could.

Yes glasses! We didn't use the sprites in the main story but Maelyn does wear glasses and looks very pretty in them if you ask me. You will be seeing more of it in the bonus episodes!

[hannieehaee]

How about Joshua with a s/o who always wears baggy clothes and doesnt feel attractive because she doesnt wear revealing ones ?

If u want to write it pls do it only if u are ok with it and feel inspired ♡♡

content: bf!joshua, established relationship, some talk about insecurities, fluff, etc.

wc: 605

a/n: so sorry i took so long to write this!!

masterlist

"hey, babe, have you seen my shirt? you know, the grey one with the loose neck? i thought i- oh."

"huh? what was that?", you asked as you took out an earbud, turning to look at the boy who'd been trying to call your attention.

chuckling, he rounded the kitchen island to reach your side, hands practically attaching to your waist like magnets as he aided you in removing the other earbud, placing both on the counter next to you.

"i was just wondering where my band tee went, but i think i have my answer," he chuckled, pressing a sweet peck to your temple.

"oh, fuck. sorry, josh. do you want it? i can go change," you went to disconnect from him, but he wasnt having it, instead nuzzling his head on your shoulder.

"hm. it smells of my cologne still," he said almost to himself, "you don't have to take it off. i like you in my clothes," he reassured.

you could only scoff.

"your clothes are baggy on me. just like all my other clothes. what difference does it really make?"

joshua shrugged, "just like knowing you're wearing something of mine. you're style's cute. you're cute."

"flattery will get you everywhere, hong," you laughed.

it was one of those nice, domestic moments that occurred every so often. you basked in it, enjoying it before the two of you went back to your regular days.

it wasn't until later that you started to think about what you'd said to joshua earlier.

you did have a tendency to wear baggier clothes. hell, there really was no difference between wearing something of his and a piece of your own. it was incredibly rare for you to show skin or any sort of silhouette, and those instances were really reserved for nights too warm to handle in which you had to opt for some shorts and a tank top.

but even then, you went for looser ensembles. clothes that showed your figure were never really your forte.

you couldn't help but wonder if this ever bothered josh. would he have preferred if your style varied more? what if he thought of you as a prude? maybe he-

"what's got you thinking so loud?", the boy in question interrupted your inner turmoil.

you hadn't realized as you sat in front of your vanity, face wash in hand and still unused, that you'd frozen in place as you thought. his presence in the restroom hadn't registered until he spoke.

"just, uh," you pondered as to whether or not to voice your concerns, but his compassionate smile reflecting on the mirror made you decide, "i was thinking that maybe you'd like it better if i dressed differently? you know, maybe show more skin?"

you voiced it as a question, insecurities building in you as you sought a direct expression of his preferences.

"are you kidding? i like how you dress. and it's not really something that bothers me. you're comfortable and you're beautiful. it's a win-win situation for me," he kind of chuckled as he spoke, finding your question very sudden and unnecessary.

"oh."

you felt a bit dumb now.

"has this been worrying you? you know i'm like obsessed with you, right? you could wear a trash bag and i'd still be as obsessed," he joked, closing in on you similarly to how he'd done earlier in the day.

he finished his statement with a kiss pressed to your lips, humming when you kissed back.

"this just gives me free reign of your closet. i hope you know that," you jested.

"baby, i'm rich. take whatever you want."

[retiredteabag]

Wishful Thinking

arranged marriage with nanami… a continuation

pt. 1 - pt. 2

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

The silence that permeates the car you were shuffled into with your husband is suffocating.

Your life partner had let go of your hand the moment he had reached to buckle you into your seat. You strain your fingers now, hoping the sweat on your palms hadn't been noticeable.

A driver from your clan's estate had been tasked with dropping you and your husband off at your newly arranged space. You knew this man, the man who was seated directly to your left, was not affiliated with any clan, this meant you had no idea where you were headed.

Several shipments of your belongings had been retrieved over the weeks since the higher-up's declaration of marriage for you had been in place. A steady and simple move-in awaited you. Something you weren't particularly happy about.

You thought through a list of things to occupy yourself with instead of awkwardly standing in this stranger mans presence.

As curious as you were about your future arrangements, you truly could not ignore the silence in this vehicle much longer. Had you married any of the expected bachelors, you were sure your ear would be talked off at this point, yet, you did not even know this mans name.

You took in a deep breath, preparing to speak, the blonde fellow, (your literal husband) turned to meet your eyes, likely having expected you to say something. His eyes shock you, and you turn away once more to stare out the window.

You strain your hand into a fist and work up the courage. Turning with an inhale once more, you force out words before you can change your mind, "Terribly sorry..." You start, looking him in the eyes, "Could you remind me of your name?"

You had never been given it to begin with. Perhaps the officiant at your wedding had recited it in his speech, but you had been a little distracted at the time.

"I'm sorry?" He strains his neck in your direction, eyebrows raised.

"Your name? Sorry... I think I ought to know it, right?"

"You don't know my name?" His head shakes a little as he speaks, incredulous.

You hesitate, "...No? I wasn't paying the most attention for it during the ceremony..." You mumble the last bit, waiting for him to cut you off, but he just stares at you.

"I'm sorry-" His hand hovers mid-air, "You weren't given my name?"

Oh no, you've offended him.

"Oh! It's not like that! My family is....very fond of you! And the higher-ups speak very well of you as well! I...well...I erm..." How do you fix this? Stroke his ego?

His hand is firmly on his forehead now. "That is not what I meant. I'm asking you - you were not informed of my name? Who I am? Were you even aware you were to be wed?"

You fumble a bit with the skirt of your dress, "Of course! Yes, I just... well, I didn't know who, but the marriage bit was no surprise."

"But the rest, that is all true? You had no idea you would be marrying me?" He looks frustrated, to say the least. You had no idea this would come as shocking news, someone should have informed you.

He is peeking at you through his hand, "Well...no, but-" He cuts you off now, but he seems to not be speaking to you.

"No wonder you looked so ill up there..."

Okay ouch.

"When did you agree to this marriage? Was this simply... decided for you?

You weren't sure what to say. Had this not been decided for him as well? Speaking frankly, you were not entirely sure of why he had been chosen as your partner, he had no duty to his name. Even so, he looked repulsed at the realization, eyes shot wide.

"Well... it was-" Were you supposed to be talking about this? Should you say this to your husband? "Umm... Well, I'm sure you know the higher-ups are involved with the clans..."

He shifted in his seat to face you fully now, "You...were forced?" He almost looks frighted at the concept. You want to laugh.

Of course, you were. How else did he think marriage worked?

Despite your thoughts, all you said was, "No, it was a mutual understanding that I would be married."

"Yet you know nothing about me." He looks forward at the road.

Was that what this was about? "I'm a quick learner, if you're concerned about that."

He sighs and smacks a hand to his face again. "No...No that is not what concerns me."

You have a litany of responses ranging from, 'I see...' to 'what does concern you then?' but you say none of them. You just sit forward and stare at your palms.

Oddly enough, it does not take long for the silence to be broken once more.

"Nanami." He says.

"I'm sorry?" You hadn't expected him to speak, eyes wide, you turn to him again.

"Nanami Kento. That's-" He sighs, as if it's a real chore to introduce himself, "my name is Nanami Kento."

You look to one another for a moment before you quickly break the connection, gazing out your window, deigning to not look again until you arrived.

"Mmm...thank you." You finally say.

--

Although you knew the house was not terribly far from your family estate, it felt like hours had passed before you allowed yourself to move once more.

Mr. Nanami had climbed from his seat once the car had halted.

Eager to be away from me it seems.

Only, he had seemed surprised as you climbed from your door as well, having walked around to greet you.

"Allow me," He had said, reaching for the small train case in the back of the car, it had been filled with small wedding gifts and your husband insisted on carrying it for you.

I wonder how long he will keep up this act. You found yourself thinking. Your new residence was sizable. Nice, in an uncomfortably clean way. Perhaps that is how your husband liked it.

As you stepped over the threshold, moving out of "the man of the house's" way. You took it in.

This place must have been chosen by the higher-ups. Your father would not have bought you a home, nor did you expect a man without clan connections to have been able to purchase such a plot of land.

It was only mid-afternoon. Yet your life was impossibly different than it had been only a few hours prior. You had expected the driver to stay and discuss the honeymoon with the two of you but it seemed he had not been instructed with that information.

As many frightening realizations occurred to you, you were able to resign yourself to acceptance, putting aside the...bedding...situation... the concern that stuck with you was dinner plans.

Were you expected to have that prepared? You didn't know what he preferred though....

Thoughts of your...marital duties swam in your head while Nanami was making his way towards the living room.

"Of course," He was saying, "You're free to use whatever you like, these things are as much yours as they are mine..." He had rounded through the sitting area and around the kitchen into the master bedroom, never once turning to look at you.

It was clear that people had come to prepare the area for you two. On his bedside table, you see a comfortable pair of plaid pajama pants and a loose grey shirt. You had not been presented with such. No, on the bed, strewn out for the both of you to see was a... sordid... set of black lacy lingerie.

You stood in silence. A resigned look on your face. Your husband on the other hand, had coughed, spun around, and fully walked from the room in moments.

What was he doing? Was he sickened by you? Did he expect you to appreciate his apprehension? If you were being honest, you would like for him to get this act over with as quickly as possible.

Looking at your marital bed, you were once again reminded of your mother's sobs only this morning. You looked down at the gown that clung to your waist. You had felt pretty today, despite the occasion. You knew you would not feel beautiful in that raunchy piece of string.

How long do I have? You wondered.

Finally moving yourself, you come before the undergarments, sit next to them, and run your hand along the bed's silky duvet.

You sat in silence for longer than you expected to be given. You finally reached your hand up your spine. Unzipping the dress, unbuttoning the clasp at your neck.

You slid it off your body. Walking around the room near-nude to lay the dress along the ladder of a bookcase. It was nice, actually. Maybe you wouldn't mind it here.

You did not rush to dress in the sexy, frilly, underthings. You might not have been perfectly comfortable in your body, but that didn't matter. Not when you had knowledge of the intentions behind your wedding for years.

It was a bit of a challenge to get it on. You weren't sure how to get your arms through at first, and then you swapped them around when you couldn't figure out the neck bit.

What did it matter, it would be coming off anyway.

After dressing, you sat in the same spot on the bed for a while, staring at your hands. You wondered if he was expecting to eat first. Seeing as he had left you alone, however, you figured he would return eventually.

It was cold like this, you hopped he would hurry.

Just as you were beginning to consider moving to look at the bookcase, (panty clad and all) your spine snapped into place when you heard him calling for you. When had you given him your name? You weren't sure.

He was speaking loudly so you might hear through the wall, but not in a frustrated manner, "The kitchen staff is arranging something for us to eat-" He had slowly began to open the door, when his eyes landed on you. Not a moment passed before he dropped whatever he had in his hands. It loudly clattered to the floor and he slammed the door shut. The noise echoed in the room.

"What-??!" He stuttered, "What are you doing?!!"

Your mouth opened and closed repeatedly like a fish. What were you doing? What did he mean? And how exactly do you respond?

"I... uhh-" You looked down at yourself in the ridiculous lace.

You had not been trained in much regarding sex, having been told that the man you would marry would be well aware of how to educate you when it came to your actions. Suddenly self-conscious, you wondered if you had done something wrong.

Nanami calls your name from outside your new bedroom, then repeats it. Firm and unmoving. "What-are-you-doing?"

Your hands flounce around. Stuttering for a response, "I- I don't know!?" You finally force out, the tone coming off a little too questioning for an answer.

After a moment there is a dull *bonk* against the door. You hear no response for a long while. The room is so silent, you can hear your heart pounding. It was so painfully uncomfortable, you reached a hand to your chest to try and calm it. Finally, he clears his throat and calls out to you from behind the door again.

He speaks your name gently, as if calling to a child, "I'm going to come in now, okay?"

You sit upon the bed once more, back straight. "Alright." You nod to yourself.

Unsure of what to expect, you watch the door handle tilt to allow for your husbands entry, but your eyes narrow as he shifts into the room, avoiding your gaze - in fact - avoiding your presence completely.

His arm is shaking off his nicely tailored suit jacket. Still turned to look at the closet, he comes before you, jacket in hand, and reaches out for your shoulders. You almost want to shrink back from this odd behavior but remain still as he wraps you up in his clothing.

After a few awkward seconds, he turns to look at you. "What are you doing?" He repeats, low and calm.

You raise your brows, "What... are you doing?" You reach up to feel the jacket covering your collar and torso, instantly, he drops his hands from your shoulders.

He shakes his head, a hand tugging at his loose blond hair. "I don't... understand." He is no longer looking in your vicinity. His voice shakes and all the air leaves his lungs.

"I'm sorry." You wrap yourself tighter in his jacket, shifting to stare at him, "Was this not... expected?" His apprehension certainly came as a surprise to you.

Suddenly he's back, fully facing you, "Expected?" He raises his brows, "What is this? You're... what? Doing what is expected of you?". Despite the severity of the moment, it is now that you recognize how expressive his features are. His neck, up to his cheeks, up to even his ears are a warm pink. It wouldn't be improbable to assume his chest is a rosy shade right about now as well.

You decide to push the boundary, share your frustration. Why is he upset? If he does not want you, he should just say. It's not as if you desire him in that way. This has been an incredibly stressful and tense day, at least he knew who you were before all of this, you did not have that liberty. If anything, you should be upset with him!

"Is it not?" You speak up, "Forgive me, but I was under the impression that...this" You pull your arm out from under his jacket to motion between you two, "was how this worked."

He makes a face. Revolted.

"You are- we-" He cuts himself off, waving his hands before himself, then covers his face, "no." He gets out, "This is not how this works."

"Well." Now you're flushing, embarrassed. You straighten yourself, balling his suit jacket in your firsts. "What... would you like for me to do? I told you in the car that I learn quickly, if thats-"

"Stop." He spits out, voice suddenly higher than before, "Just...stop."

You swallow. What does he want from you? "Okay." You whisper.

He calls for you gently, and motions for you to stand. He turns away from the bathroom now and shifts in the other direction, looking at your wedding gown strewn across the bookcase ladder. He purses his lips. "Please.... dress yourself." He swallows, motions towards the wardrobes along the wall. "Something comfortable in there. I was... going to ask your preferences, for a meal-for dinner. Let me-"

He clears his throat, moving away now toward the bedroom door, he drops to the floor and picks up what must be his phone, having been dropped earlier, he rubs the screen on his pant leg. "What would you like?"

You stare at him, straight-faced. "Anything you like." You're not a picky eater.

He sighs, looking up at the ceiling, "No. What do you like to eat?

You shrug, "Anything. I don't mind." You shake your head at him and he just looks you up and down. The stupidly large jacket comes mid-thigh.

He takes a deep breath. Then exhales dramatically. Nods. And he's gone. This time, when closing the door, he makes an effort to do so gently.

--

You had found a soft cotton pajama set in one of the dresser drawers. Having long since removed your previous attire, you wonder what your husband is thinking of as he silently serves two plates of Chinese food.

You wonder what your father would say if he saw Mr. Nanami serving up dinner for his wife as you sat on the living room couch.

You're taken from your thoughts as Nanami places a large wooden tray on the couch, he places the food on it.

It seems you will very much be eating together.

"I hope you enjoy it. Let me know if you don't." He murmurs, seating himself near you in the dimly lit room.

In no world would you complain about the food your husband served you. Even if you disposed it, luckily, you liked Chinese cuisine. Before you can even get out a word of appreciation he is speaking again, "I think we should talk."

You sit up straight. "Alright."

He motions for you to eat, "Feel free. I think we ought to have an open discussion."

You grab your utensils but don't reach for anything until after he takes a bite. Awaiting his words.

"Well... I believe we ought to be on the same page about this. I had been under the impression that we were... but as I can see, that is not the case." He stares at you intently.

He is not speaking down to you, but rather, making space for an open conversation. You set down your chopsticks, and await further explanation.

"I suppose I should know what exactly the higher-ups asked of you."

You raise your brows, "Sorry?"

An apology has become a common synonym for many of your reactions.

"Earlier, you asked me for my name. And just then-" He flushes a little, motioning to the bedroom, "well- you mentioned expectations and I feel I ought to ask you what is is that has been requested of you."

Is this man daft? Is he playing with you?

Before you respond, you test the waters, "What did the higher-ups demand of you?"

The man sighs.

"I am terribly sorry," he calls your name again like its easy, a habit that makes your stomach flip, "It seems that people have not been honest with you, you deserve an explanation. I just expected you to be aware of this before our union."

He pauses for a moment, his eyes watch you and the chopsticks laying on the wooden tray.

Ah.

You reach to take a bite. It's good, and oddly puts the man before you at ease.

"Before this, I was intending to leave sorcery."

He states it as if it is nothing. Your eyes bug out and he pauses, allowing for you to ensure you heard correctly.

"The higher-ups have a large amount of sway in Tokyo, I'm not sure about Kyoto, but they were not fond of this plan."

I can't imagine why that would be. You thought as you recalled the moment you had first seen this Nanami Kento.

It had been an annual meeting between the Kyoto and Tokyo branches. You had heard him refer to sorcery as "a pain". Had he been considering retirement even then?

You simply nod, listening quietly. "It was their intention to find me...a wife." He huffs, "Maintaining a life in sorcery was highly important to them."

Oh, you see. Perhaps he wasn't so different from you after all.

The higher-ups have only had one expectation for you, even since showing promise in the world of sorcery, even after moving up the ranks at Kyoto Metropolitan Curse Technical College. Your job was plain and simple.

To have babies.

Sorcerer babies.

Had they been so afraid of losing one sorcerer to the regular world that he was cornered into loveless marriage? All to keep him from departure? Was that why Gakuganji had been so immediate with his instatement of your husband?

"I see..." You nod once more.

"I would like to know your experience as well. What was it that they asked of you?" He had both hands laid flat on the makeshift table between the pair of you.

You consider what to say. "I...have known-" you try again, "My duty has been laid out for some time now." You tilt your head, he's squinting at you.

"Please. Just tell me. They... forced you - to - to do that?" He points his head in the direction of your room once more.

Now you're confused. You want to speak in a way that doesn't insult his intelligence but he's making is difficult for you. "Did you not... marry me for children?"

He chokes.

Coughing to clear his throat, he wipes his mouth. "That is not- eugh-" he tries again, "They cannot ask that of you. I will not do anything that you are not explicitly requesting of me." He pauses effecting a moment of silence before, "Do you understand?"

But you don't. "Mr. Nanami, are you... not expected to produce children? Is that not why you were chosen to be in this situation?"

He responds quickly and with precision, "I did not marry you for what you could give me. No."

You can't hold in your confused laugh, "Then...why?"

"Was it not the easiest for the both of us?" He smirks at you, his shoulders have eased only slightly after hearing your laugh, "I was informed that your other options were not the most savory."

"You knew you would be marrying me?" You ask, ignoring his reference to your suitors and flummoxed by how easy it is to speak comfortably with a man you had been so recently adverse to.

"Yes. I... cannot believe you were not provided the same..." He pauses, "I was under the impression that this was a mutual decision..."

"Oh." It's all you can say.

Nanami takes in a deep breath from across the couch cushions. "I'm sorry." And you really believe that he means it. "I would not have agreed if I knew." He forms a flat line with his lips.

"I think you're right, though..." He looks at you, addled, so you continue, “This was the easiest choice. I think so too." You're unsure of how else to conclude.

Your wedding dinner had not been what you would have expected and the night, unlike anything you could have predicted.

Nanami Kento, no matter how you denied and tried to shuffle from the bedroom, had sworn himself to a guestroom after collecting the night clothes laid out for him on the bedside table.

He had gently grabbed your shoulders, maneuvering you towards the bed and away from the exit. Pleading with you to remain in the master bedroom. Claiming that he had intended to sleep in a separate bedroom since the beginning.

Though you pulled at his arms to try and swap your standing, telling him adamantly to take the bigger of the bed options, he simply drew close to you, shifted farther from the door and blocked your sights. He lead you softly to the bed, and when you attempted to side step him and make your way to the guestroom, he took one arm, catching you by the waist, and swiftly lifted you from the floor.

"Please. Do not ask me again. Sleep here, alright? All of your things are here. I will be very comfortable in the guestroom."

And before you could get out any complaint, he had you placed upon the duvet. His hands were off you in an instant, but he remained looking in your direction as he backed to the door you had been fighting over.

"Do sleep well." His long strides had brought him to the rooms entrance with no delay, you were still caught up with the fact that he had lifted you like a sack of potatoes, with one arm no less. "We will likely have to arrange the...trip tomorrow."

The honeymoon, that's right.

He said it in a way that sounded like, 'just to warn you' or 'you should know'. But all you could reply with was, "Right."

"Right." He echo's, turning to walk through the door, and looks to you once more. "Sleep well." And there's your name again, leaving his lips as though you are long time friends.

"You too."

But the door has been silently shut.

His touch lingers on your waist from where he had lifted you. Not in the way your fathers hand would linger after he drug you to and from meetings, not the way his fingers would remain painfully on your neck after he would steer you into conference rooms. But rather, in an almost ticklish way.

You shiver.

And run your hands over your new duvet.

When you had made up your childhood bed and left this morning, you had listened to your mothers cries, sure that last night would be the last time you would have the peace of your own bed. Your heart swelled with the knowledge that you had been wrong.

Your fingers traced the stitching on the comforter. Swung your legs from the mattress, and almost-almost grinned.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

tag list @longlivegojo @kitkatlover015 @l0v3rgirl-owo @smailaway (if your name is here but you didn’t get tagged. I think it’s either bc your blog is new/blank/empty or you need to check your privacy settings)

[millyh23]

Selective Standards

Alessia Russo x Reader

word count:

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Y/N walked into the changing room, expecting to find the usual post-training chaos—water bottles here, jerseys there, a few bits of kit scattered on the benches. But this was on another level. A mess of epic proportions.

Protein shake bottles lay on the floor, half-empty, with their lids off, spilling sticky liquid across the floor. An assortment of clothes, some still in training gear and others discarded in the middle of the room, was strewn about, creating an obstacle course. Half-open snack wrappers crinkled underfoot, and towels were abandoned haphazardly across the benches. It looked like someone had taken a whirlwind tour of the room and forgotten to clean up after themselves.

Y/N froze in the doorway, mouth agape.

“What the hell happened in here?” Y/N muttered, stepping into the chaos, surveying the damage. Her hands flew to her hips as she turned to face the team. “Who even leaves a place like this? This is so disrespectful. We’re a team, we’re supposed to take care of our space. Whoever made this mess should be reprimanded. They should pay a fine or be suspended for a game. This is ridiculous.”

The room fell silent. A few players exchanged awkward glances, and some even stifled small chuckles, glancing at each other. It wasn’t every day they saw Y/N go off like this. Normally cool-headed, Y/N’s frustration seemed to be bubbling over today.

Leah, who had just come out of the showers, raised an eyebrow, clearly amused but trying to hold back her laughter. “Y/N… I don’t think it’s that deep.”

“It’s that deep, Leah,” Y/N snapped, gesturing to the mess. “Look at this. It’s disrespectful to all of us. You know how hard we work. This—” She pointed to an empty water bottle rolling across the floor, “—this is a disaster.”

Katie, who was sitting on the bench nearby, grinned mischievously. “You know, you could always just pick it up yourself, right?”

“No,” Y/N huffed, her eyes scanning the room, clearly riled up. “Someone needs to be held accountable. This isn’t just a little accident. It’s a pattern of neglect.”

Just then, the door opened, and Alessia Russo walked in, her attention quickly drawn to the group as she noticed them all looking toward her. She hadn’t noticed the mess yet.

Y/N shot a pointed glance toward the protein shake bottle, still leaking a sticky mess onto the floor. “Whoever did this needs to clean it up—immediately. No exceptions.”

Leah couldn’t help but smile, taking a slow step toward Y/N. “Well, you might want to turn around, because—”

Before she could finish, Y/N’s voice rang out again, sharp and direct. “And I’m serious. If this happens again, I don’t care if it’s—”

“Uh, Y/N,” Leah interrupted, a grin tugging at her lips as she stepped to the side. “It’s Alessia’s mess.”

Y/N froze mid-sentence, her eyes wide. She turned slowly to see Alessia, who was now staring at the group, completely unaware of the mess she had left behind. Her eyes darted from teammate to teammate, catching their expressions. And then her gaze fell on the aftermath she’d left in her rush.

“Oh no,” Y/N muttered, her face turning bright red. She hadn’t even noticed that Alessia was the culprit when she was ranting. “I didn’t—uh… I didn’t realize it was—”

Katie raised an eyebrow, giving Y/N an amused look. “You sure? You were just about to have someone suspended for this.”

Y/N, caught in the moment, quickly tried to backtrack, her voice dropping an octave as she rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. “Well, I mean, we all get caught up in things, right? Just a little… oversight. Nothing major. It’s fine. Not a big deal. Right, Alessia?”

Alessia, who had been listening with an amused grin, walked over and casually tossed her gym bag on the bench. “Yeah, I was running late for media stuff,” she said with a shrug. “Guess I left a trail behind me. Sorry about that.”

Y/N, now visibly flustered, waved her hand dismissively, trying to cover up her earlier outburst. “No, no, it’s… it’s really not that serious. Just, maybe next time, a little more care when you’re in a rush? That’s all. Right, guys?” She forced a smile, but it was clear she was embarrassed.

Katie burst out laughing, slapping her hands on the bench. “Oh, you were so ready to fine someone for this mess, and now you’re backtracking?”

“I was just—” Y/N started, but she didn’t have the energy to continue. “I guess I got a little carried away. It’s Alessia. I’ll let it slide… just this once.”

Alessia, who had clearly caught the shift in Y/N’s tone, grinned and casually threw an arm around her shoulders. “It’s all good, babe. Thanks for being so understanding. I’ll do better next time.”

Y/N shot a playful glare at her, trying to regain her composure. “Just… don’t make me do a whole speech next time. I’ll have to give you a fine or something.”

The entire team erupted into laughter as Y/N’s serious demeanor quickly crumbled into a sheepish smile. Alessia leaned in close, still grinning. “You’re the best, Y/N. Maybe I’ll get you to help me clean up next time?”

“Yeah, sure,” Y/N muttered with a roll of her eyes, “I’ll bring the fine book.”

And with that, the room returned to its usual chaos—but this time, everyone was a little lighter, the tension having dissolved in a fit of laughter.

---

The team was starting to form more bad habits. Every day, without fail, more and more players were coming late to training. It wasn’t anything too serious at first—just a few minutes here and there—but Y/N, always one to stick to the rules and maintain discipline, was getting fed up.

It had been the third day in a row that several players were running through the gates minutes after the scheduled start time. She couldn’t take it anymore.

“Alright, that’s it,” Y/N muttered to herself, crossing her arms tightly over her chest as the last player jogged onto the field. “Enough is enough.”

She marched up to the front, her voice firm and clear as she addressed the entire team. “I’m done with this. We’re all professionals here, and we can’t keep letting people stroll in whenever they feel like it. From now on, anyone who’s late will be fined. A minute late? A minute’s fine. You’re five minutes late? Five minutes’ worth of fines.”

The room went silent, the rest of the players exchanging nervous glances. They knew Y/N wasn’t messing around.

Katie, ever the troublemaker, leaned in and whispered to Leah, “She’s not serious, is she?”

“Oh, she’s dead serious,” Leah replied, eyes widening as she watched Y/N cross her arms and glare at the group. “You’ve seen her like this before.”

Y/N’s eyes scanned the room, locking onto the players who had been late. “This isn’t school, people. You all know better. You’re adults. You can show up on time. It’s disrespectful to your teammates, and we need to take this seriously.” She turned to face a particularly late-looking Kyra. “Five minutes late today. That’s a fiver.”

Kyra rolled her eyes but said nothing, too tired of the back-and-forth to argue. Y/N then turned her eyes to the next culprit, Alessia, who had just jogged in, breathless from her sprint to the field.

“Alessia, you’re late again!” Y/N snapped, hands on her hips, but before Alessia could even start to apologize, Y/N’s tone softened. “No, no. It’s okay. It’s not your fault. It’s just—training was probably a little too early for you today. I’ll take care of the fine. Don’t worry about it.”

Alessia blinked, surprised by the sudden change in tone. “Really? You’ll take care of it?”

“Of course,” Y/N replied, shaking her head, her voice calming. “You don’t need the added stress. We’ll make sure your fine is covered. You can count on me.”

Y/N then glared back at the others. “But for everyone else? You’d better pay up. You’ve all been warned.”

Leah gave her a pointed look as Y/N turned her attention to the rest of the group. “If anyone else is late, there’s no excuse. I mean it. We’re not running a daycare here.”

The session went on, but Y/N couldn’t help but notice how the other players seemed to keep a little distance from her. They knew Y/N meant business, and with her new fine system, she wasn’t about to let anyone get away with being tardy.

The next few days passed, and the fines kept racking up. By the end of the week, Y/N had nearly filled a small notebook with the fines from late arrivals, most of which had come from the usual suspects: Katie, Beth, and a few others who just didn’t seem to care. But when Alessia was late yet again, Y/N was quick to brush it off.

“Alessia, don’t stress. I’ve got this,” she’d say, her voice soft and reassuring, even as she filled in the fine for her late arrival.

The others watched this dynamic unfold. The fines were getting hefty—very hefty—but every time Alessia was late, Y/N would simply wave it off and mutter that it was okay. They all found it strange, but there was something about the way Y/N spoke to Alessia that made her seem… untouchable, in a way.

By the end of the month, Y/N had paid off all of Alessia’s fines, covering the hundreds of euros in late fees. Every time she brought it up, Alessia would try to refuse.

“You really don’t need to do that, Y/N,” Alessia said, a hint of guilt in her voice.

“I’ve got it covered,” Y/N replied with a smile, brushing off Alessia’s concern. “It’s not a big deal.”

But even as she said it, Y/N couldn’t help but wonder why she was doing it. Why did she always soften when it came to Alessia? Why was she willing to put up with the fines when everyone else had to pay up without a second thought?

One evening, as they sat together after training, Y/N gave Alessia a sideways glance. “You know, if you just stopped being late, I wouldn’t have to pay these fines for you.”

Alessia looked at her with a half-smirk. “Maybe I’m just testing how far you’ll go.”

Y/N chuckled softly, rolling her eyes. “Well, consider this the last time, okay? I’m not made of money, and I’m not paying your fines forever.”

Alessia laughed, leaning in close. “I know. But I appreciate it, Y/N. More than you know.”

Y/N just smiled, knowing full well that no matter how many fines Alessia racked up, she’d always be the one to take care of it. She didn’t mind. Not when it was Alessia.

It was one of those days where the team was a little too playful for their own good, and Katie had a mischievous gleam in her eye. She leaned in towards Alessia, a sly grin creeping across her face as she whispered her idea.

“Why don't you come in an hour late to training? You know, just to test if Y/N will actually follow through with paying your fine,” Katie suggested, practically vibrating with excitement.

Alessia raised an eyebrow. “Are you serious? You really think she’d pay a £200 fine?”

Katie’s grin only grew wider. “Y/N loves you. She’s a softie for you, trust me. She’ll pay without batting an eye.”

Alessia hesitated, but then the thought of seeing how far Y/N would go for her made her heart flutter. “Alright, fine. But if she gets mad, I’m blaming you.”

Katie winked. “Deal.”

The next day, as the team finished their warm-ups and got into their drills, Alessia sneaked in, only to join the sprints, breathless and looking sheepish as she entered the pitch.

Y/N, who had been keeping track of everyone’s arrival times as usual, immediately shot her a glare. “Alessia, you’re late,” she said, arms crossed and voice stern.

The team watched with baited breath, knowing full well that this was going to be interesting. Y/N pulled out her notebook, jotting down the fine.

“1 hour late, that’s £200,” she said, her voice sharp as she turned to the rest of the team. “You all know the rules. Late is late.”

Alessia bit her lip, trying to keep a straight face as she watched Y/N turn back to her, ready to pay the fine. Without a single word of complaint, Y/N pulled out her wallet, counted out the money, and handed it to the coach.

“Here you go,” Y/N said, her voice oddly calm.

Katie couldn’t contain her smirk. “Wow, I didn’t think you’d actually do it.”

Y/N barely even looked at Katie. She turned back to Alessia, her face softening. “You don’t need to worry about this,” she said gently. “It’s not your fault. I’ll take care of it.”

Without thinking, Y/N reached forward and cupped Alessia’s cheek, leaning in for a kiss, soft and sweet, making the rest of the team collectively roll their eyes. When they pulled apart, Y/N smiled, her eyes full of affection.

The rest of the team, including Leah, watched in stunned silence, unsure of what to say. Katie, trying to keep a straight face, let out a dramatic gasp. “I can’t believe you actually paid it, Y/N! You’re such a sucker.”

Leah, smirking, chimed in, “Looks like Alessia’s got you wrapped around her finger.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a soft chuckle. “I’m not a sucker. I’m just making sure my girlfriend isn't stressed over something silly like fines.”

Katie raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really?"

Alessia leaned in, trying to hide the smile tugging at her lips. “You really didn’t have to do that, you know. I was just testing you…”

Y/N turned to the group, suddenly serious. “You shouldn’t have pressured poor Alessia into that,” she said, her voice taking on a more reprimanding tone. “If you all have issues, you come to me. We don’t put her in situations like that. You’ve all got to start acting your age. We’re supposed to be grown, not schoolkids that mess with each other for fun.”

The rest of the team exchanged glances, bored for Y/N's thousandth lecture, and nodded in acknowledgment.

Leah nudged Katie, both of them smirking. “I think Y/N’s getting soft,” Leah teased. “Guess the only one who can make her pay £2000 without a fight is Alessia.”

Katie laughed. “I’m just amazed. She didn’t even hesitate! It’s like she has a weakness for her. She's like kryptonite”

Y/N gave them a mock glare, but her voice had a playful edge. “Alright, alright, I get it. You two are clearly jealous because I didn’t pay your fines.”

Katie threw her hands up in defeat. “I mean, I would have asked, but I’m pretty sure you’re whipped for Alessia.”

Leah chuckled. “I think she just wants to see if she can get away with being that spoiled.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, turning back to Alessia, who was clearly enjoying the teasing. She gave her a smile, though. “You’re lucky you’re cute. And you know I’d do anything for you.”

Alessia grinned, her heart swelling with affection. “I know. I won’t make a habit of it. I swear.”

Y/N chuckled softly, her protective nature not fully letting go, but a warmth in her chest that reminded her just how much she cared for Alessia.

The rest of the team couldn’t help but laugh at the playful dynamic between the two, and even though they were teasing Y/N, there was a sense of warmth in the air. It was clear they were a team in more ways than one. Even if some of them had to be teased a little for their soft moments, they all knew Y/N had their backs—just as much as she had Alessia’s.

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The End

[nemesyaaa]

actually, yesterday i lied. i fell asleep but now i'm back. no scrubs by tlc it's just so good, I really love this and also the remix one. the fact i know the lyrics by heart ! such a good song. i was curious about the text after our conversation !! and arghhh, it was so refreshing to read and it also gives me so much frat!rafe vibes especially with the traffic scenes ( written so amazingly !). it was very good, like the atmosphere of the fic !! ✨ sometimes 1k words is really enough and perfect !

THINKING ABOUT... catching Rafe's eyes across the restaurant. It makes him notice everything about you—the way your cute skirt grazes across your thighs, your short top that's tantalizing enough to reveal a bit of your cleavage but have him wanting more, and your eyes. Fuck, those eyes. He keeps catching your gaze every so often, the innocence gleaming behind them paired with a mischievous look that dares him to move forward and talk to you but also warns that you won't be an easy target. — the fact IS the first paragraph and i'm already into this so much !! what a well start ! 🤭🤭

«Fuck, those eyes. He keeps catching your gaze every so often, the innocence gleaming behind them paired with a mischievous look that dares him to move forward and talk to you but also warns that you won't be an easy target.» <- this whole sentence PLEASE ! 🙂‍↕️

THINKING ABOUT... you and Rafe flirting across the flow of traffic. Him asking for your number on several occasions and you rebuffed his each and every attempt. It's exhilarating, how he's sitting on the window seal of the passenger door, while you're unbuckled and twisted, head nearly out of the window. It isn't until there's a traffic light that flashes red that everything changes. — THE VIBES !! shooting myself while reading 😌😌

THINKING ABOUT... how it's the best kiss of your life. He lingers, catching the back of your head as he deepens the taste of your lips, nibbling on the plumped bottom lip, till you part and he swirls his tongue against yours. When you separate, your face is flush with heat, his expression is more than satisfied, and he bids you farewell with a promise of calling you tomorrow. When he drifts back to the passenger seat, he slams the door close, and with a parting glance in your direction, Rafe leaves. — why the « Rafe leaves » sounds so bittersweet, it's crazy 😵😵😵 but i enjoyed every single second of this, zya !!! tysm for point me this one in dm's

TLC | Rafe Cameron

MASTERLIST (imagine) | x Female Reader

Word Count — 1.0K

lıllılı No Scrubs by TLC

THINKING ABOUT... catching Rafe's eyes across the restaurant. It makes him notice everything about you—the way your cute skirt grazes across your thighs, your short top that's tantalizing enough to reveal a bit of your cleavage but have him wanting more, and your eyes. Fuck, those eyes. He keeps catching your gaze every so often, the innocence gleaming behind them paired with a mischievous look that dares him to move forward and talk to you but also warns that you won't be an easy target.

THINKING ABOUT... you standing from your table, rallying for your entourage to leave, throwing out a hundred-dollar bill to cover the check. You sashay out of the room, your arms linked around another friend, while your skirt rides up just enough to catch a sight of the fullness of your ass, and a trailing of dark ink—as if you have a small tattoo that's begging him to unravel and see. All while you're throwing one last glance over your shoulders to Rafe, with a charming smile that he wonders would be his last.

THINKING ABOUT... Rafe rising from his seat and before he has the chance to think, hustles his friends from the booth and out the door, not wanting to let you slip away. He catches the neon-red glow of rearlights through the window and sees you slip into the backseat of your friend's car.

THINKING ABOUT... you joining the giggles and squeals of your friends, how you're telling you about the boy who's been eye-fucking you all night. But you merely shrug them off. Then, all their easygoing expressions are wiped off their faces as they point to something outside your window, where your back is facing, and turning to discover Rafe hanging out of the passenger side of his friend's car, shouting for your attention.

THINKING ABOUT... how your eyes flit with bright amusement, tilting your head at Rafe as he tries to call out to you. His words are muffled by the closed window, and the high-speed ride down the road, while your friends are laughing and revering over his dangerous act. It's to the point that your best friend, in the driver's seat, slows the car down to match the speed of your courting companion.

THINKING ABOUT... how Rafe is pointing to you, saying something you cannot hear. So, you cup your hand around your ear, mockingly, teasing, asking, "What? What was that?" as Rafe reads your lips in a challenge. He repeats what he's saying, to no avail, before impatience wears thin on his handsome face and he gestures for you to roll down your window. You reluctantly—with the encouragement of your friends—do.

THINKING ABOUT... Rafe asking for your number, the resonance of his volume roars over the heavy grind of car engines, the harsh whistles of the wind, the rich atmosphere of street lamps streaming down the street, the bright lights of towering skyscrapers, and the fullness of traffic surrounding you making your head feel lightheaded. He shouts "I want your number," and you feel an odd mix of endearment from his courage and disapproval at how he's hollering at you from the passenger side of his best friend's car.

THINKING ABOUT... you and Rafe flirting across the flow of traffic. Him asking for your number on several occasions and you rebuffed his each and every attempt. It's exhilarating, how he's sitting on the window seal of the passenger door, while you're unbuckled and twisted, head nearly out of the window. It isn't until there's a traffic light that flashes red that everything changes.

THINKING ABOUT... how Rafe pulled himself back into the car, before opening his door and moving across the stagnant road to open yours. He studies you from head to toe, from the way you sit all pretty and poise on the seat, to your manicured nails that adorns a pretty shade of your favorite color that he can't help but imagine them clawing against his backside. "We don't have space for a spare ride," you would tease him, only for him to respond that he doesn't want a ride. Just a number.

THINKING ABOUT... the ticking clock of your interaction. There's only a couple of seconds until the light flashes green. Your friends are encouraging you, whispering that you'll never meet a guy like him again, who plays dangerous games to make you glance at him; who wants you so badly, that he's willing to defy state laws to grab your attention. You glance at the traffic behind you, the lines of cars waiting, watching, and with great resignation—and the cheers of Rafe's friends from his car—you type the digits into his cell.

THINKING ABOUT... the moment you hand Rafe his phone back, the light turns green. Cars behind goes to honk, telling you to move along, but Rafe refuses to step back to his vehicle. Refuses to budge. He turns to you, with a tilt of his head and a cocky smile. "Kiss for goodbye?"

THINKING ABOUT... how your friends are practically squealing at this invitation. Rafe offers his hand to allow you to step out onto the busy asphalt road, and you step on your tippytoes to give him something on his cheek. But, at the last second, Rafe turns and steals the kiss from your lips.

THINKING ABOUT... how it's the best kiss of your life. He lingers, catching the back of your head as he deepens the taste of your lips, nibbling on the plumped bottom lip, till you part and he swirls his tongue against yours. When you separate, your face is flush with heat, his expression is more than satisfied, and he bids you farewell with a promise of calling you tomorrow. When he drifts back to the passenger seat, he slams the door close, and with a parting glance in your direction, Rafe leaves.

THINKING ABOUT... the aftermath of that. Cars honking snaps you back into reality and you immediately return to the backseat. The moment you return, buckled and seated, your friends are interrogating you about what happened. They were too far to see, to bear witness of what just happened. And when one of their hand lands on your arm, taking in your shocked expression, you answer their question. "Fucker just stole my first kiss."

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[stllmnstr]

breathing room

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

Lee Heeseung is having a hard time breathing. 

Partly because he’s pretty sure he just got the wind knocked out of him. A little bit because of the year-old rib injury he had neither the time nor patience to let heal completely. 

And mostly because there’s a blade being held to his throat. 

Yours, to be exact. 

It’s a nice one, all things considered. Despite its lethality, it’s small, delicate almost. From this angle, he can just make out the detailing on the hilt. A series of vines wrap around each other intricately, forming kaleidoscopic patterns that extend all the way from the blade to where your fingers are wrapped around the hilt, knuckles white from the way your hand is straining. 

Jesus, he thinks. If it takes that much concentrated effort for you to not let the knife press any harder against his skin, draw any blood, then maybe he should start taking the threats you throw his way like extra change a little more seriously. 

Lazily, he lets his eyes trace a line from your fingers to your face. Skipping over the rather boring details of the plain black training shirt you wear, he directs his attention to the way your brow furrows in concentration instead. 

Under usual circumstances, a knife to the throat would encourage all of his senses to narrow in on the sensation of metal against his pulse point. Would spur his brain to work a bit faster through all the biological fight or flight mechanisms in a last ditch attempt at survival. 

But these are not usual circumstances. In fact, ever since the two of you were split into separate training cohorts a handful of months ago, this has become a rarity. And the only thing Heeseung wants to do is enjoy it a little more. 

Without his self-preservation instincts kicking in, his brain has plenty of room for other things. The forgiving surface of a training mat beneath him, slightly soft where he lets his body relax into it. The unusually warm air of the training room, courtesy of a busted air conditioner that no one has gotten around to fixing just yet. 

The way your hair falls around your face as you lean over him, chest still heaving from your recent bout of exertion. Your eyes are pure fire, embers and ashes and every stage in between as you sit atop his ribcage, knees on either side of his torso where you pin him to the mat. 

But even as the lead trainer adds another tally underneath your name for another sparring match won, your gaze doesn’t soften. Doesn’t brighten in the afterglow of victory. After all, victory only tastes sweet when it’s earned. Judging by the way your lips twist above him, Heeseung thinks the victory he just handed you on a silver platter must be horribly bitter. 

Slowly, he raises his hands in mock surrender. There’s a half smile that looks a little too much like a smirk tugging at his lips when he says, “I concede.”

“No fucking shit.” You flick a strand of hair out of your face. Your knife presses a little tighter against his throat. “Did you even try?”

Heeseung maintains eye contact. “I think I’m doing us a both a favor by not answering that one.”

Narrowing your eyes, annoyance makes itself the most prominent of your visible emotions. “Interesting choice of words from someone with a knife to his throat.”

Heeseung all but rolls his eyes. “What are you gonna do? Kill me in front of everyone?” The way he wraps sarcasm up in every syllable is almost as infuriating as the way he just let you win without putting up any semblance of a fight. “You’ve got a mean streak, princess, but that’s a bit much, even for you.”

The pressure on your blade increases, and Heeseung fights a wince as he feels it break the barrier between his skin and blood. It’s a miniscule cut, surface level at most, but he hears the threat all the same. “It’s like you want to die,” you marvel. 

Heeseung’s eyes betray nothing, other than the fact that they can’t quite seem to stray from your own. Does he? No matter how deep inside himself he searches, the answer is always a resounding no. Despite the effort he put into this particular spar, or rather lack thereof, his survival instincts are still kicking. His pursuit of life is still alive and well. 

So no, he doesn’t want to die. Quite the opposite in fact. But if he were to explain in plain terms that he never feels quite as alive as he does in the moments when you’ve got a knife on his throat and hatred in your eyes, he has the distinct feeling you might well and truly make good on your frequent promise to send him to an early grave. 

And it’s not like he means to do it, not really. Heeseung might be a glutton for punishment these days, but there was a time when he tried to get your attention in all the regular ways. As he quickly found out, sweet words did nothing but make you roll your eyes and his skills on a sparring mat were only as impressive as they could be used to hone your own. 

He was a tool, in your eyes. A means to an end as you did your best to work your way up the ranks. 

You never looked at him, the person behind all the hand-to-hand combat training and advanced levels of weapon artistry. At least not until he started annoying the ever-living shit out of you. 

Back then, it had been easy. As new recruits, you were in the same training cohort, which meant you had the same daily schedules. As long as Heeseung had the chance to beat you to the last piece of toast in the dining hall at breakfast or tie the laces of your training boots together the night before an early morning, he was guaranteed at least one of your signature glares and a few choice words that would make his grandmother blush. 

Granted, he knows that one-sided hatred is not a very stable foundation to build anything solid on, but he thinks of it in the same way he thinks of sparring. 

He doesn’t need a knockout. He just needs an in. 

A little bit of breathing room. Something that will have his partner lowering their guard, weakening their defenses just enough for him to strike. Once. Twice. Again. Over and over until the match is won and victory rests on his square shoulders. 

Heeseung’s in this for the long haul, and he’s come to find that he doesn’t really care how many bruises he picks up along the way. 

Across the room, the lead trainer heaves a long sigh. 

“Alright, ___, that’s enough. You’ve earned your tally.” The most of anyone in today’s group. But you’re still glaring at him, and he knows it isn’t enough, not for you. “Heeseung, get it together. I expect better from you next time.”

You scoff. “Don’t hold your breath.” 

Expectations are only met when people are held to them, and you doubt Lee Heeseung has even become acquainted with the concept of a consequence. 

Releasing one final, sharp exhale, you pull your knife away from his throat, tucking it back into the sheath on your upper thigh in one fluid motion. Swinging your leg over his torso, you remove your body from his own, give your anger some space to breathe. Without looking back, you let your strides eat up the distance between you and the exit. 

Someone – you think it must be Jay, or maybe Jungwon, tries to catch your attention on the way out, asking about a maneuver you pulled in the middle of the match. A tricky bit of knife work you’ve been perfecting over the last few weeks. Something that looked stupid as Heeseung did nothing but stand there, as if your blade was nothing but decorative. Made you look stupid as he stood and watched with nothing but a mildly amused expression on his face. 

You hate him for it. Want to show him just how pretty your knife can be stained with the deep crimson he must bleed as surely as anyone else. 

Lips pulled in a taut line, you unsheath the blade at your thigh once again, this time sending it spinning with deadly accuracy towards the line of trees that skirt the outside of the training facility. 

You don’t miss. You never do. 

It still feels like defeat. 

…..

Heeseung notices when you’re not at dinner later that evening. Despite the fact that you no longer train together, the inter-cohort spars have shifted this week's schedule. You should be here, sitting next to Jay and Jungwon, probably, pointedly avoiding his gaze. 

But you’re not. And he can only think of one other place to find you. 

The training hall is dark when he arrives, but Heeseung is no fool. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust, but he sees you soon enough. Silhouette dark against the empty expanse, he has half a mind to intervene before you shred yet another punching bag to irreparable pieces. Instead, he just watches for a moment longer. 

He doesn’t know what to do with the feelings that start to simmer, that always linger. Doesn’t know if it’s admiration or longing or something far worse. 

But he wants to. Wants to examine them until he knows them as intimately as the back of his own hand, until he can recite them by name and express them in ways that don’t make you want to press a knife against his neck. 

And he wants to keep watching, keep looking, keep noticing. 

Even from a distance, even in the dark, he can read the frustration in the set of your shoulders, sense the exhaustion in the way your legs move just behind the rest of your body. 

You need a break. 

He needs an in. 

Across the room from you, Heeseung clears his throat. 

Startled, you nearly fall on your ass mid-kick before you turn to the source. It’s dark, but you know it’s him. Who else would it be? 

Chest rising and falling rapidly with exertion, you finally catch your breath well enough to tell him, “If you’re not here for a rematch, then you have exactly ten seconds to get out of this building.”

A beat passes. 

Another. 

Heeseung exhales. “And if I am?”

Bathed in the dying glow of moonlight, you go still. “Then you better put in your best fucking effort.”

Heeseung is across the room before you can release another breath. It’s ridiculous how quickly he disarms you. And you’re caught off guard, yes, but it doesn’t matter, not really. Your knife in his hands, he throws it to the corner of the room. And then it’s just the two of you. 

Heeseung spares neither time nor effort knocking your legs out from under you, sending you careening towards the mat. Screwing your eyes shut, you brace for the impact of a training mat that never comes, the back of your head cradled in a hand that serves as a barrier between you and the ground below. 

It’s a complete reversal of your earlier roles as he lets his legs fall to either side of you, face inches from your own. There’s no knife on your neck, and he was gracious enough to break your fall, but suddenly find your breath a difficult thing to catch regardless. 

Above you, his eyes are dark. Your noses nearly touch. “This is what you wanted?” he breathes, and you feel his words as much as you hear them. They dance across your cheekbone, your lips. Have your bones feeling molten, all your hard edges malleable. “You want me to fight you like I mean it? To really fucking spar with you?”

You’ve rehearsed your answer too long to deviate, even as your mind screams with sudden uncertainties. “Yes.”

Heeseung doesn’t spare it a second thought. “Too bad.”

“Why? You have no problem f–”

“I was there, you know.” Unbidden, the hand that doesn’t hold your head falls to the bottom edge of your black training shirt. Heeseung pauses there for a moment, lets his fingers trace the seam. Something in the air shifts, tightens, waits. Despite the way he has you caged, your hands are unbound. You could stop this, if you wanted to. Stop him. 

You don’t. 

Slowly, his hand begins to track an upward journey, taking your hem with it. The air of the room is warm, choked with summer heat and the odd sensations that simmer just beneath your skin, but you suppress a shiver anyway  as a sliver of skin is revealed. 

You know what he’s after, where his eyes fall to. It’s his fingers that hesitate. Dangle with uncertainty a hair's breadth from the scar that sits just above your hip bone. 

Heeseung inhales, eyes returning to your own for a moment. They’re searching for permission you won’t give and boundaries you won’t set. If he wants to walk this tightrope, he’ll have to navigate on his own. 

It’s a challenge he rises to. On his breath out, Heeseung lets his fingers find a home on the bare skin of your stomach, trace the jagged line that’s a shade paler than the surrounding area. 

It’s a scar you hardly think of, one you can’t believe he remembers. Gifted to you in your early days of training, when a fellow recruit thought the best way to better his ranking was to discard the strict sparring rules set by your superiors and draw blood as a last ditch attempt at victory.

You’d still won, even with a fresh stab wound on your lower abdomen. And he’d been shown the door, like all recruits that break protocol. 

“So what?” Your voice doesn’t come out nearly as biting as you intend it to. You curse the waver in your words. “I get one scar and suddenly I’m delicate?” 

Heeseung glances up, something sincere in his eyes when he matches your gaze. His hand is still on your skin. “We’re all delicate. And we all have the scars to prove it. I’ve just developed a particular… aversion to seeing evidence of it when it comes to you.”

You’re quick to school your features into neutrality. At least on the outside, you won’t give him the satisfaction of catching you off guard. “That sounds like a you problem.”

“Apparently not,” Heeseung counters. “Since I’m not the one begging for a fight.” He holds your gaze when he adds, “And I have to say, princess, if you wanted me to put you on your back, there are much easier ways to ask.”

It’s as if you’ve been burned submerged in hot water, as if you’ve been burned, when you push him off of you with a speed that’s almost comical. And from the way heat rises in your cheeks, you just might have been. 

Your voice is dangerously low when you tell him, “You have three seconds.”

“Until what?” Heeseung knows better than to be hopeful. 

“Until I find my knife and put it to good use.”

Heeseung doesn’t need to be told twice.

[apomaro-mellow]

Yall said you wanted more of Victorian steddie cucking Jason so here ya go

Read on AO3

Steve had been distracted and it only got worse as his appointment with Doctor Munson got closer. He had never felt that good before. No omega he’d ever talked to had mentioned that an alpha’s touch could feel like that. He didn’t even know using mouths was an option. Was it strictly a medical procedure? Surely he couldn’t expect his husband to perform that for him. Only a licensed expert should….should…

He clenched his legs together and bit his lip, trying to look like he was present as his husband went over the final preparations.

Jason sighed. “I do wish you didn’t have to see the doctor on the same day as the party. What if you fall ill?”

Steve sighed. “It’s for the best. You want a child, don’t you? One of our very own. And Doctor Munson has been recommended by all our friends.”

Of course, Jason had been the one to seek him out, but when Steve mentioned the name Munson to his own circle, Heather and Carol had nothing but praise for the man’s practice. Carol had even confided in her own struggle to conceive before taking him on as a physician and now she was set to pop any day now.

Before, Steve had chalked it up to a pill or tonic, something that made her and her husband’s attempts more fruitful. But…when he remembered how the doctor had helped him. Now Steve was wondering if Carol’s child would be born with hair darker and curlier than it should be. He wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that but the only way to know more was to get to his appointment.

Jason wouldn’t be joining him for this one, too busy with the last minute details. They were hosting a celebration for Jason’s commendation and Steve hoped he’d be in a jovial mood when it was time to get to bed.

He didn’t even have to spend time in the waiting room when he arrived. Doctor Munson was already in the front room, almost as if he’d been waiting for Steve.

“Mrs. Carver, right on time, follow me.”

Steve did, entering and sitting down on the table as he had the first time. Doctor Munson closed the door behind himself. He started with asking baseline questions. Most of which were easy to answer, as it had only been a week since he had been here last. Nothing much changed except…well…

“And your urges? The ones Mr. Carver was worried about? Did they get any better?”

Steve started to wring his skirt before remembering his manners and straightening it out. “I um, well, yes and uh no?”

Doctor Munson chuckled. “So a solid maybe? Could you elaborate? Are they different from before?”

Steve thought about it. He still felt an ache, a need. But they only came upon him when he thought of-oh.

“The urges used to be directed solely at my husband. But I don’t think about him anymore. Instead I-”

“Instead?”

Steve cleared his throat and turned up his gaze from his lap to the man before. “I’ve been thinking of you.”

The grin that came upon the doctor’s face was both endearing and searing. Steve felt his body get warm and his eyes were drawn to that mouth. He missed entirely what was said next.

“Sorry, what?”

“I said that’s perfectly natural. Your omega desires the one who will care for your needs. Typically it would be your husband. But it’s not uncommon for an omega’s sights to turn to someone else.”

“Oh.” It felt better to hear that it was normal.

“Now, let’s not dither any longer. You have a party to prepare for.”

“Speaking of”, Steve started as the doctor scribbled something down. “I know it’s very last minute, but we would be honored if you attended.”

“Would you now?”

“Of course. If all goes well, we-I’d have you to thank for my child.”

“In that case, I would be honored to attend. Now, onto business. Do you feel that need arising now? When you look at me?”

Steve thought about the times he had admitted to Jason the sort of feelings his husband caused within him; how his husband had recoiled to know his inner thoughts. Steve didn’t want Doctor Munson to be repulsed by him. But if he lied to a physician, what was the point?

So he nodded. “Yes. I am, I mean I do, feel those things.”

Doctor Munson nodded and moved to stand behind Steve. “I’m sure you and Mr. Carver have plans for a more private celebration tonight, yes?”

“Yes. We want to make the most of my appointment today.” He could feel the doctor’s breath against his ear.

“And as I understand it, this will be your first knotting. Being knotted and pupped up, you’re going to experience some changes. It’s time you got acquainted with yourself more than ever before.”

Steve tried to turn to see what he meant but Doctor Munson was already moving, placing a large mirror in front of him. The doctor got behind him again and put his hands on Steve’s waist.

“May you lift your skirts and spread your legs?”

Steve felt his cheeks heat up but obeyed. When all was said and down, his core was exposed to the world. He was only able to glance at his reflection before turning his head away. He was surprised to feel a gentle hand massaging his hip.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of down there.” His hands moved down to Steve’s thighs, slowly making their way inward. “You have a healthy thatch of hairs.” 

His hand cupped Steve then, simply holding him. Steve’s breath got short and yet he felt secure, safe. Doctor Munson hummed, sounding observant and pleased.

“Has your husband ever told you how lovely you are down there?”

Steve’s eyes snapped open, though he wasn’t quite sure when they’d closed. ‘Lovely’? Down there? He turned his head to look at the doctor’s face but he wasn’t even looking at Steve. His eyes were on the mirror. Steve turned his gaze to that and found eyes transfixed on their reflection. Specifically on what was happening….down there. Doctor Munson’s finger was stroking up and down.

“I asked you a question Mrs. Carver. Are you still lucid?”

“He’s never-n-never said that about me, um, rather about that part of me.”

Doctor Munson tutted. “Husbands aren’t always the best at expressing themselves, I’m afraid. But I’m sure he must think so. Beautifully pink in color. And the shine.” He took in a deep breath in the same moment that Steve breathed out. He pushed a finger in, a low growl coming from him as he watched it get sucked in.

“All alphas owe their lives to this. It’s a pity they don’t always know how to show appreciation. So allow me to tell you - the way you could take a knot is divine.” He pushed a second finger inside. “And the way this same part can pass through a child, bringing new life into the world, is godly.”

Steve’s hips shifted but he fought to keep them still. In his mind he could hear Jason reprimanding him. And he could also hear his governess telling him that good omegas stayed perfectly still so their alpha could complete the deed without interruption.

“Don’t fight your instincts.”

“B-but I-I was told-”

“Your body knows what it needs. And if your mate hasn’t given it to you right away, use your body to tell him what that is.” To prove his point, Doctor Munson stilled his hand.

Steve couldn’t help the whine from the back of his throat. His hips squirmed without any coordination for a few moments before he was able to find some kind of rhythm and he watched through the mirror. Watched as those deft fingers moved in and out of him.

“That’s it, Mrs. Carver. Just like that.”

“Steve. You can-that is to say-you may call me by my first name.”

“In that case, you may also drop the formalities with me. Those close to me know me by Eddie.”

“Eddie”, Steve sighed, trying it out. It certainly felt more intimate than calling him by ‘Doctor Munson’. And right now, he didn’t want to be known as ‘Mrs. Carver’.

“You’re doing wonderfully Steve. You produce slick like a master and your scent is perfectly enticing. You can take a good stretching”, he said, a third finger slipping inside. “And then there’s this little button.” His other hand pulled at the top of his mound.

After his first appointment, Steve had been curious. He had thought to look but could never quite gather the nerve to look for long or do any true exploration. But he remembered where he had felt Eddie’s tongue that sent jolts of lightning through his body.

“Do you know what this part of you is for?”

Steve shook his head. Hole was for the alpha and then later the pup to come through. Everything else was a mystery that only men in medicine knew. He watched with hungry eyes as Eddie finally touched it, just with the tip of his finger and still he reached up and clung to the sleeve of the doctor’s coat. 

“Do you understand now?”

“Wha? Mmn, what?”

“Pay attention, Steve”, Eddie reminded gently. He touched the small nub again and this time Steve paid attention to his own reaction. Not just how it felt good but what his body actually did in response to it. How his hips lifted to meet the touch, how he tightened around Eddie’s fingers, and how more slick came from him.

“Do you see now?”, Eddie asked. “Most will ignore it but this part of you is important too.” He used the hand not currently in Steve to spread his slick around. “It will make you clench around your alpha. That, combined with his knot, will make sure none of his seed leaks out. An evolutionary advantage, back from the days where an omega could be taken by any alpha. It made certain that even if that happened, a bonded omega would already be pupped by the one of their choosing.”

His fingers started to thrust deep into Steve while the ones on his other hand rubbed quick circles. Steve’s head came to rest on his shoulder, mouth agape and eyes rolling back. His husband was most definitely the last thing on his mind right now.

“That’s it Steve, let go. Just feel. An alpha should consider this his honor, his sacred duty.”

Steve found it hard to believe any alpha would feel that way but certainly Eddie must. He was focused on his mission and nothing else. And Steve felt that delicious heat build up in him again just like last time. Then he felt Eddie nuzzle at his neck. His high collar kept from any pure skin contact, but it made him burn all the same. Eddie buried his nose on the side of his mating bite.

A clear challenge to the alpha who had already bitten him.

Steve opened his eyes in time to see himself put Eddie’s fingers in a death grip and watch everything down there pulse in time with the waves of pleasure that crashed through him. This time, instead of washing his hands, Eddie brought his slick-soaked fingers to his mouth and cleaned them off with his tongue.

“What time is that party?”

For the evening’s events, Steve changed his gown to something more celebratory. It showed his neck and parts of his shoulders and collarbone. But of course, his bond bite was hidden under a choker, as was custom. The only omegas who went without were those without a bite to show. Steve had spent the better part of the evening distracting himself with idle talk.

Eddie hadn’t arrived yet and it made Steve’s thoughts wander. Did he help out all omegas the same way? Was Steve just next in a long line of conquests? Eddie had never offered Steve anything but his medicinal techniques and yet he was clearly challenging Jason. And Jason didn’t even know it.

Jason said nothing about Eddie’s scent on him when he returned home, though Steve was sure he must be able to smell it. He washed himself before the party just to be sure.

And speaking of the party, it was going swimmingly, he had to admit. Everyone was enjoying themselves and Jason had his chest puffed out all night. It made Steve anticipate their bed all the more. When it was time to dance, Steve took his husband’s hand and followed his lead. Dancing for him was an excuse to have his alpha’s hands on him in public. Jason always kept a respectable distance though. Sometimes more than respectable. 

After one dance, they moved to the side. Steve could have danced more but sometimes it felt like Jason only wanted to touch him when necessary. Jason conversed with some of the other men, Steve loyally at his side when someone tapped his bare shoulder.

“Eddie?”

“Apologies for my late arrival.”

“‘Eddie’?”, Jason echoed.

“I would like to make the most of what time I have left in the party. So if I may impose, may I have the hostess’ for this next dance?”

Steve was tempted to take Eddie’s hand even without his husband’s approval. But he still looked to Jason, hoping he didn’t look too eager.

“You have my permission, doctor.”

Eddie took Steve’s hand and led him to the dance floor. He didn’t wear his white coat and his hair wasn’t pulled up like in his office. Instead, it fell over the shoulders of his dark jacket. Eddie nodded to Carol and Steve was reminded that she was one of his patients. Eddie brought him into a dancer’s hold so close that their chests rose and fell against each other.

“Carol is due any day now”, Steve commented as they swayed to the music.

“And glowing with the pride of it. Mr. Hagan must be proud.”

“I’m sure they appreciated your help. Carol was so worried before conceiving.”

“And that worry was stress that made it all the more difficult for their family to grow. It seems they’re doing quite well now.”

“Do you help all omegas in the same way?”, Steve ventured to ask.

Eddie grinned. “Each person who passes through my practice requires different care. I don’t normally gossip about specifics, but for the Hagans, I simply coached Mr. Hagan through some bedroom techniques. Mr. Wheeler simply needed a tonic for vitality. But you, Steve…”

His gaze got intense and Steve realized he could scent him for the first time. It made sense for doctors to cover their scent, otherwise it could unease a patient. But this was a social event and Eddie had no need to hide his cinnamon and cloves scent.

“Yes?”

“I knew I had to assist you by any means necessary. And if that meant I was allowed to touch…to taste…”

Steve’s body grew warm. “Tonight-”

“I’ll be waiting.”

“But Jason-”

“Will be taken care of. He is still your husband. And I intend to respect his claim over you. But you deserve a pup. You deserve to hear a child’s laughter in your halls and to be someone’s mother.”

“Eddie”, Steve sighed, not even realizing how close their bodies were pressed until the musicians changed the tune.

Their bodies separated and Steve was returned to his husband. Steve fanned himself and used the dance as an excuse as to why he was slightly flushed, not that Jason acknowledged it beyond a sneer. As the party began to wind down, Steve noticed his husband was more intoxicated than usual. He became worried about what this meant for the night and his suspicions were proven correct.

Their guests had gone home and the married couple dressed for bed. Jason needed help getting into his gown and he was in bed while Steve was still sitting at his vanity, brushing his hair.

“Jason? Jason?”, Steve called out, going over to his side of the bed. “Don’t you remember tonight?”

“He’s just about passed out”, Eddie’s voice sounded from the door, causing Steve to whip around.

“You’re here.”

“I said I would be.” Eddie shrugged his coat off. 

“Here? Now?”, Steve asked his heart rabbiting.

“Yes”, Eddie nodded. “He won’t wake until morning. But the scent you make and the sounds you produce should reach his subconscious mind and make him more susceptible to you.”

“You’ll give me a pup? Tonight?”, Steve put a hand to his chest, trying to calm his heart.

“I promised it to you and your husband. And I am a man of my word.” Eddie closed the distance between them and cradled Steve’s face, illuminated only by moonlight, then kissed him sweetly.

It was a different kind of kiss than what Steve was used to. Barely there pecks. This was like a thunderstorm after a drought. Eddie’s hands smoothed down Steve’s neck, around his waist, and then settled on his hips. Steve’s hands stayed perfectly still at his side. When Eddie pulled back, he took Steve’s hand and guided him to the other side of the bed where he normally laid. Steve laid down on his back.

His heart had just calmed down but it picked up again as Eddie undressed himself fully. Steve’s legs trembled, fighting between the instinct to spread and show himself and his learned behavior of keeping his legs shut. But he remembered the alpha’s words just that morning. He was allowed to give in to his instincts. So he not only spread, but he pulled the hem of his nightgown up and over his knees, exposing himself to the room. 

“There it is, just as gorgeous as always”, Eddie praised, coming onto the bed.

Steve thought he should feel more shame. Or more reservations. He was letting another alpha take him while his real husband and mate slumbered right next to them. But Jason benefited from this too. Eddie started to kiss his thighs and Steve just about forgot the presence of his husband. He felt warm breath on his loins and covered his mouth before he could cry out. Then a hand came up to pull it away.

“Mr. Carver needs to hear you. He needs to associate your sounds with satisfaction.”

“But I’ve never…”

Eddie licked a stripe up his core, eliciting a sound somewhere between a hiccup and a gasp from Steve. “The more you allow yourself to feel, the better chance you have at conceiving.”

Steve’s lips parted and he allowed short breaths. Then Eddie’s tongue started to draw circles and whimpers fell from him. He thought he’d be more scared of Jason waking up. He turned his head to see his husband on his back, appearing almost dead to the world. Then Eddie blew cold air onto his hot flesh and Steve jolted, a sharp cry coming from him. Jason shifted, turning on his side now so that he was face to face with Steve.

That only stoked the flames in Steve’s body and he felt himself get more wet. Eddie hummed, seeming pleased at his reaction.

“You feel good and you want your alpha to know that.” He rose up and kissed Steve’s chest through his gown while rubbing a finger against his slit. He pressed the first one in and released a low rumble, pleased at how easily it slipped in. His lips found Steve’s neck, the unbitten side, and sucked a mark into it.

“Alpha”, Steve moaned softly, arms winding around Eddie.

Eddie got him to three fingers like before and then pulled them out. Steve’s eyes fluttered as he felt the head finally slip in. One hand fell from Eddie, needing to grip something and that ended up being Jason’s nightgown. Steve could feel his husband’s chest rise and fell while Eddie sunk deeper and deeper into him. His mouth fell open and every indecent sound he had held back all these years were set free as Eddie thrust in and out.

Every touch was true to Eddie’s words from earlier. He considered it a privilege and an honor to be allowed to do this. Steve felt something else begin to push up against him and realized in euphoria that it was a knot. He was going to be knotted, he was going to be filled and thoroughly seeded and it would finally take root and turn into a beautiful life.

When it popped into him, he could hear Eddie growl into his ear. Eddie bit into his shoulder and Steve saw stars.

Jason didn’t stir until morning came. He sat up, head still swimming from the previous night. He rubbed his temples and slowly stood up from the bed. It was only then that he noticed Doctor Munson sitting in a chair on the other side of the room.

“What are you-?!”

“Shh”, Eddie put a finger to his lips. “Watch your volume. Your wife is still resting.”

Jason looked down to see that Steve was very much still asleep. “Why are you here?”

“Mr. Carver when a patient puts their trust in me, I see it through to the end. And I must say, you performed quite well last night. As I was able to observe, Mrs. Carver was properly knotted.”

Jason’s brow furrowed. He didn’t want to say that he had no recollection of that. But he truly remembered nothing after collapsing into bed. Eddie stood and walked over to the bed. He was fully clothed, excluding his coat and hat.

“The proof is right here.” Eddie pulled the blanket back and then lifted Steve’s gown. He then very gently spread his legs. “His amount of slick is proof of a coupling. But if you look very closely, not a single drop of your spend is on the outside. I say not even a textbook would have a more perfect illustration.”

Steve shifted and Eddie covered him back up. Jason swallowed, feeling challenged and yet now knowing why.

“So it is done?”

“Conception should be complete, yes. But your journey has only just begun. We can discuss it more later. But I recommend that Steve visits my office regularly from now on. Perhaps every two weeks or so.”

Jason watched as Doctor Munson put his coat back on and then his hat. “Um, yes, very good. Thank you, doctor.”

“My pleasure, Mrs. Carver”, Eddie smirked.

tbc?

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Harry’s life at the Dursley makes me extra side when I remember he was a baby when he came to them. It makes me wonder when did he start sleeping in the cupboard?

And then I spiral and think about Harry calling Petunia mom when he is three years old. How did she raise him until he became a kid? And I think about him doing art during Mother and Father’s Day for his uncle and his aunt and them throwing it in the bin. Did he try to listen Petunia read a story to Dudley? Did he ever learn how to swim with school and he just never learnt?

And it makes me so, so sad.

It is. Everything about Harry's childhood breaks my heart. I already talked about it here and here.

We actually have a very depressing answer about the swimming lessons bit from GoF:

He wasn’t a very good swimmer; he’d never had much practice. Dudley had had lessons in his youth, but Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, no doubt hoping that Harry would drown one day, hadn’t bothered to give him any.

Which I take to mean he had maybe, like, two or three lessons for swimming at school and that's it.

As for the other stuff, I don't remember direct answers so you're going to hear my headcanons:

1. I think Harry never called Petunia "mom". When he was a baby he still could remember his mother and as he grew up he got used to calling her "Aunt Petunia" so he never called her mom except for maybe one time on accident when he was 3 or 4 which he was screamed at for: "I'm not you're mother, Freak!" and probably also slapped for.

2. I think when he was very very young, like, younger than 2-3 Petunia did put more effort in keeping him alive immediately after her sister's death and with Dumbledore's letter/threat fresh in her mind. But slowly she saw nothing happened and no one came when she treated Harry badly, so it emboldened the Duesleys.

I also think Harry started showing magic at a very young age, like 4-5, and when he did, Petunia and Vernon moved him to the cupboard and their treatment of him worsened even more.

After all, Petunia remembers her childhood with Lily who could do magic, she would recognize it for what it is — and she and Vernone are terrified of it. That's why the moment Harry showed signs of magic I believe they moved him to the cupboard to keep him away from Dudley.

3. The idea you brought up about little Harry making a family drawing of him with the Dursleys and Petunia scrunching her nose before throwing it in the bin in front of Harry's face.... shit, that's so sad and I'm sure it happened. I just imagine baby Harry's face, all proud of his drawing and not fully understanding the Dursleys yet with his cute nose and big green eyes and he would be so disappointed. I don't think he'd cry though. I think by that point he learned Vernon and Petunia don't like him crying.

4. I think the next year he drew himself with how he imagines his parents to be and he hides it from the Dursleys because Harry's a fast learner. I'm sure he spent nights dreaming about who his parents were from the very little information he got out of Petunia.

5. I can definitely see a young Harry crouching near Dudley's bedroom door as Petunia tells him a story. And then when she's done, he'd run away quickly so he won't be caught.

6. As a bit of a continuation of sneaking around to listen to bedtime stories, I think watching television at the Dursleys was similar. We know from canon Harry did use the time the Dursleys were away to watch television or play on Dudley's computer:

“You could just leave me here,” Harry put in hopefully (he’d be able to watch what he wanted on television for a change and maybe even have a go on Dudley’s computer) .

(PS)

Though I don't think the Dursleys allowed him to do it, he just got good at sneaking around when they're not there. I'm saying that since Harry mentions Mrs. Figg lets him watch television:

She let Harry watch television and gave him a bit of chocolate cake that tasted as though she’d had it for several years.

(PS)

So it seems he wasn't usually allowed to watch television or play on Dudley's computer. I think the way Harry watches television when the Dursleys are home is by standing at the doorway and watching without them noticing (that's why he can't pick what to watch). I mean, we kinda see him doing it in OotP when he lays beneath the window to listen to the news on their television without them knowing.

Yeah, Harry's childhood was so depressing and I think the books actually portray him and how his childhood affected him well considering the books were limited in what they were allowed to show. I think the signs of trauma and abuse are clear if you look for them, even if they're not all called out in an obvious manner.

Writing this post just made me super sad now for Harry. My boy deserved so much better.

[bvckbiter]

re annabeth and friendship in pjotv: frankly, i think this is one of the most egregious changes in the show because it's a change rooted in writers actually having a grasp of the foundations of annabeth's personality but taking it in an erroneous trajectory. the writers are correct in that annabeth's (unusually) long stay at chb has a massive impact on her character, particularly in that she's desperate to test her mettle outside of camp. however the show also takes this to mean that annabeth struggles with being a kid, making friends, learning pop culture, being human. odd as hell, because if anything, annabeth being in camp means that she's literally surrounded by kids just like her - neurodivergent demigods, which i think is an extremely specific experience that only campers would understand.

compare that to percy, who by all logic, is alienated. in the mortal world, he's bullied, he's transferred from school to school, his stepdad is abusive and makes him feel like a burden onto the household/his mom. there is a good reason why grover is percy's only friend - a relationship which is also thrown to the rocks when percy finds out that grover and mr brunner basically gaslit him about mrs dodds. THEN HIS MOM DIES TO GET HIM TO CAMP, but even getting to camp doesn't make percy's situation much better either (which is something that the show passes over despite the book actually making sure to highlight it), because he's still in danger from enemies both within camp and from outside. cherry on top of course is the quest prophecy telling him that he will be betrayed by one who calls him friend. in a weird way, the problem with show percy is the opposite on annabeth's: he's (kind of) going in the right direction but i think there is error with the writers' fundamental understanding of where percy is coming from.

all this to say: there is a reason why in the books, annabeth is the one to make the offer of friendship to percy. is she socially awkward, abrasive, and blunt? yes! but she's not closed off; she's a deeply emotional person who longs for someone to be permanently in her life, which btw tltm perfectly captures with the invisibility cap extrapolation.and i think what's admirable about annabeth is that for all her roughness, she wears her heart on her sleeve and is every bit a 12-year-old girl, veteran camper status be damned. percy may be goofy, funny, sarcastic, but the devil-may-care impertinence is stemming from a place of deep-seated resentment that is only softened in the succeeding books because he finally feels like he has finally earned his belonging somewhere.

tldr: am still scratching my head at the "i think you were about to call me a friend" and "be a kid" lines

[couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name]

thoughts on the wicked movie?

oh I am preparing for that like one would prepare for a battle lmfao. wicked has never been my favorite show, but it is extremely good, and I honestly don't know how this movie is gonna go 😭

I'm mixed on the cast- ariana is super talented, but 1) she's worryingly unhealthy and It Shows in the trailers, and 2) quite frankly I still think the role should have gone to dove cameron. cynthia's out of this world but 1) she's a bit old for the role, which is fine, but a lot of times I find adults playing teens and twenty somethings very...unbearable (sorry kimberly akimbo 😔) so I worry it could turn into a green evan hansen movie moment and 2) honestly she really did annoy me with that meltdown over the fan edited poster lmfao like I still love her but it's hard not to cringe now lol. jonathan bailey has a beautiful voice and will kill it! ethan slater I think will actually have a little breakout moment and the public opinion on him will sway. I don't mind bowen yang but I also don't understand why he's there. goldblum, yeoh, and dinklage can do no wrong. idk anything about the girl playing nessa but honestly nessa sucks so I don't mind going in blind on her lol.

I think it's dumb as hell that it's being split into two movies- I know that's the general opinion of everyone, but it still needs to be said. the only good songs in act 2 are 'as long as you're mine' and 'for good'. there's not enough to entice people who aren't already diehard fans to come back for more- and like, the first rule of adaptation is to assume the audience isn't familiar with the source material. so I PROPOSE. that the best way to drum up excitement for part 2. is making glinda and elphaba's feelings for each other explicit instead of subtext. I think jon m. chu WOULD do it, but I don't know if the studio and producers would allow it. we shall See. but that's my big prediction for the movie.

I'm also mixed on jon m chu directing because like. listen I love that he did in the heights and had like a huge delayed theater kid awakening moment I really do love that for him. and in the heights WAS a great movie- but a lot of the changes that were made really bugged me lmao. not all of them, but a lot of them. and obviously, since he's dragging it into two movies, changes will be made. theoretically they could just add a bunch of stuff from the book, but like, if they make cuts from the already solid stage story to add in completely new characters and plotlines (like they did for in the heights) I just! don't know that I'll like that sorry

plus the fact alone that they've been trying to make this movie for 20 years like. it has a HUGE shadow to outshine and I Hope it'll pull it off but I don't know that I'm confident it will?

all that being said I WILL be seated in a theater recliner seat wearing pink and green and drinking a cocktail. this is like the superbowl okay.

[cliophilyra]

Prompts: a quiet night in

Thank you! I'm not sure this is what the prompt was meant to be but this is what came out :)Actually quite surprised `i could do anything bucktommy/tevan I hope you like it and I hope it makes people a little bit happy. I love you guys sm. 🩷

When he comes into the loft the only light visible is the TV, sliding through the endless carousel of promos that shows once the show is finished, and the soft light of the antique extinguisher lamp on the side table by the couch. Tommy is on their new - admittedly unnecessarily large - couch, lying on his side with a blanket over his feet that trails on the floor. He is asleep, hands drawn up to his chest, snuffling occasionally.

It's past four in the morning. Tommy finished a twenty-four shift, six hours before Evan finished his, both of them on ground ops tonight, fighting an eight-alarm multiple structure fire in a warehouse complex downtown.

Evan barely saw him as he focused on the job in front of him. But he can't say he didn't find his glance straying to the name on the back of anyone in turnouts who passed him by.

In the end, when they were damping down the now-only-smouldering building they had been working on, he'd glanced over at the crew coming out of another warehouse, which was very much still on fire, and immediately spotted Tommy. His turnouts were covered in soot, his gas-mask covered his face and a woman in overalls was slung over his shoulder. Her long hair dangling down his back almost covered his name, but Evan realized at once that he doesn't ever need to look at the name. He would know him anywhere. He would know him if he was just a shape in the smoke.

He watched for a moment as Tommy carefully put the woman down and the paramedics swarmed around her. As he stood up and lifted his mask he turned to look in Evan's direction as if he'd called his name. The moment he spotted him his face split into a wide grin, nose crinkling as he gave him a little wave that made Evan grin in reply and pull in a deep breath as he waved back.

"Knock it off," Chim shoved his shoulder in passing with a fond but long suffering sigh.

Then they moved on to other areas of the fire and he didn't see him again before the end of his shift.

Finally home, Evan puts his bag down and walks over to his sleeping boyfriend. For a moment he stands and simply looks down at him, marveling at the warmth that spreads through his chest, like his heart is melting as he watches. They've only been living together for two weeks and a lot of that had been spent on wildfire duty so he's still getting used to how good it feels to see him in his space.

As if he senses he's being watched, Tommy's breathing changes and his mouth curves. "Stop being a creeper," he mutters without opening his eyes. Evan laughs and strokes a hand through Tommy's hair, leaning down to press a kiss to his head.

"Sorry, I'm just…you look good here. I—I like coming home to you."

"Hmmm," Tommy murmurs agreement and stretches his back with a groan, arching it in a way that reminds Evan of things he would very much like to pursue if he was less dead on his feet.

Tommy finally opens his eyes and blinks up at him. "Hey," he says softly.

Evan slides his hand down the side of Tommy's face, curving around his jaw, feeling his stubble rasping against his skin. "Hi baby."

Tommy smiles and turns his head enough to press his lips to Evan's calloused, rough palm.

"What time is it," he asks, voice gravelly with sleep and smoke.

"Four-ish," Evan replies.

Tommy groans and reaches out, grabbing Evan by the waist, big hands pulling him forward and down to fall on top of Tommy with a slightly embarrassing squeal. Tommy laughs at him and twists them so he's lying mostly on top of Evan. He wraps his huge arms around him tighter and presses his face against Evan's chest like a contented cat.

Evan smiles, putting his arm around Tommy's broad back. He looks down and shakes his head in mock-disbelief. "No one would believe me even if I showed them a picture," Evan says, carding his fingers through his soft curls.

"About what?"

"You. Being so—uh—so cuddly," he says, feeling a bit silly.

Tommy raises his head, looking up at him. His brows are knitted and there's a faint flush on his cheeks under the creases from sleeping on the couch.

"Do you not—does it bother you?" he asks, his eyes sliding away for a moment.

"Does what bother me?" Evan asks, confused.

"Me being…like this…with you? I'm sorry. I know it's not really the image I—"

Evan cuts him off with a kiss, pulling him in with his hands on both sides of his head. Tommy kisses him back and he feels like they are melting into one another, the tension of the day sliding away down his spine as Tommy's weight presses him into the soft couch. When he pulls away he looks up at him and there's a touch of uncertainty still in his eyes. "I don't—I don't give a shit about image Tommy." Evan says softly. "I want you. However you—I want the—the real you. The you you most want to be at any moment. Whatever that is. I—I want that."

Tommy nods and his eyes look a little shiny for a second and a smile pulls at the corners of his mouth as he lays his head back on Evan's chest. "I want that too," he says and Evan grins.

"I love how cute you are when you're sleepy. It's like having a cat."

Tommy huffs a laugh and gives a little wiggle of his shoulders, like he's getting comfortable. Evan's fingertips tingle with the physical rush of joy that floods through him as Tommy squeezes him. He settles his arm around him again, fingers trailing over the warm skin of his lower back under his shirt.

"Y'know, we've got a whole bed upstairs and everything," he says with a grin.

Tommy nods against his chest. "I'm aware."

"You wanna go—"

"It's upstairs Evan. Do you see my dilemma?"

Evan sighs a laugh and reaches down to grab the edge of the blanket that's tangled around Tommy's legs. He pulls it up over them both and tucks it around Tommy's shoulders.

"Just for a bit. We're gonna regret this so much when we wake up and neither of us can move."

"That's a problem for tomorrow us sweetheart."

"Yeah yeah ok. I'm gonna remind you you said that though."

Tommy kisses the side of Evan's neck and buries his head in the crook of his shoulder. He's asleep again in seconds.

Evan combs his fingers through his hair softly and feels the warm puffs of his breath against his neck. His eyes are heavy and he lets the solid bulk of Tommy's body drag him down into sleep. As he goes he lets out a tiny laugh of disbelief because he knows without a doubt he's going to marry this man.

[ninja-confession-go]

I don't know if this has been discussed before, but the direction they've taken Zane's character always makes me a bit... sad? Zane was my absolute favorite character from the start, I even purchased that one old ass book from the pilots about him when it published. His characterization from S1-S3 was solid and consistent. I related to him greatly, and despite him being a nindroid, he was treated as just another person. Which is important for the message they where conveying at the time- that just because someone acts different, or is 'othered' doesn't mean you can strip them of their humanity. Of course, I was ecstatic that they brought him back after S3. But since then his character was never treated the same. More often than not he was the brunt of jokes that directly dehumanize him and they used his status as a nindroid to make him have quirks he previously didn't have just for the sake of comedy. Zane started to feel useless to me in terms of his contributions to the team and show.

Now, it wasn't that bad before March of the Oni, and don't EVEN get me started on how Zane says he deletes traumatic memories :(- which sure, it could be an explanation for the dramatic personality shifts he has. We got more of the original Zane in S8-S9, but right after that? He was a shell of his character. Ever since he became titanium, he was different, you can't simply die and come back without something changing. But I feel like they used that as an excuse to mold Zane into a role that they need for each subplot which makes him change his fundamentals at a moments notice. He's not consistent. At all. He's whimsical one moment, completely robotic the next, sasses people and understands sarcasm one moment, and completely derails everything due to him being a 'robot' the next. If it was a more linear transition, it'd be great. But they retcon everything about him every two seconds. It makes me sad, I guess. He could've been a much more solid, interesting character, if they made him stick to who he was more, y'know? So now he's no longer my favorite despite little me thinking he'd always be my favorite.

This is NOT a 'I miss the old ninja' post, by the way, just how they've written Zane as a whole is lacking. This isn't limited to Zane at all either, but he makes me the most sad. I could talk all day about Zane. But yeah, sorry for the long post!

.

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

Mutual Jealousy | Sebastian Sallow x OC #6

he's so unimpressed with evie in this one... but then again she's not so happy with seb either

Summary: Evangeline and Sebastian navigate growing attention from others, their unspoken feelings simmer dangerously beneath the surface. Evangeline accepts a date with Lysander Clearwater while Sebastian gets busy in a broom closet.

Words: 7,582

Tags: Unspoken Feelings, Post-Canon, Friends to Lovers (Implied), Friendship, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Jealousy, Mutual Pining, Angst, Hogwarts, Implied Smut

Read more stories about Sebastian and Evangeline

The early November chill settled over Hogwarts like a thin veil, leaving the Quidditch pitch shrouded in mist. Evangeline adjusted her gloves, tightening her grip on her bat as she surveyed the field. Gryffindor and Ravenclaw had been assigned the pitch for joint practice today, the field split between the two teams, with each side running their drills in tandem. The atmosphere was charged, competitive energy buzzing in the air as the two teams zoomed through plays and formations, occasionally crossing into each other’s side of the pitch.

Evangeline’s gaze swept across the field, past where Gryffindor’s Chasers were practicing a new maneuver. In her peripheral vision, she noticed a Ravenclaw player—Lysander Clearwater—flying a bit closer than usual, his attention focused on intercepting a Quaffle. She barely had a second to react when she saw the glint of an incoming Bludger streaking directly toward him, seemingly unnoticed as he focused on his target.

Without hesitation, she shot forward, swinging her bat in a wide arc and meeting the Bludger mid-flight. The impact reverberated through her arms as she sent the ball flying off in a new direction, safely away from Lysander. He glanced up, startled, his gaze meeting hers across the field, and a smile broke across his face as he registered what had happened.

“Thanks!” he called, lifting a hand in a grateful wave before returning his focus to his drill. Evangeline smirked, nodding in acknowledgment before turning her attention back to her own teammates. The exchange left her with a small thrill of satisfaction as she continued through practice, her movements sharper and more focused.

When practice finally wound down, players from both teams began to land on the pitch, dismounting from their brooms and chatting as they headed toward the changing rooms. Evangeline had just landed, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face, when she heard footsteps approaching from behind.

Turning, she found herself face-to-face with Lysander. His face was flushed from the cold air, his blond hair wind-tousled and falling over his forehead in a way that highlighted his striking blue eyes. He wore an easygoing smile, the kind that seemed to draw people in without effort.

“Evangeline, right?” he asked, though his tone was warm with familiarity. “That was quite a save back there. I’d probably be seeing stars right now if you hadn’t intercepted that Bludger.”

She grinned, shrugging off the compliment. “It’s all part of the job. Can’t have our star players getting injured before the season even starts, can we?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “I appreciate it all the same. You’re a solid Beater—I could probably use a few pointers for defense myself.”

"Is that so? No comments about me being too small or looking out of place as a Beater?" she replied, a hint of challenge in her tone.

Lysander’s eyes widened, and he shook his head with an earnest smile. "Not at all! If anything, you’re proof that size doesn’t mean a thing when it comes to skill. You’ve got serious power behind those swings.”

Evangeline felt a rush of warmth at his words. She’d grown used to hearing all the comments—usually well-meaning, but often dismissive—about her stature. But Lysander seemed to see her as she was, not just as someone defying expectations.

“Thanks,” she said, a bit more softly. “Most people aren’t so… encouraging.”

He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “Well, that’s their loss, isn’t it? Anyone can see you’re as tough as they come. I’ve actually been meaning to watch more of your practices. You make it look easy out there.”

Her grin widened at the compliment, feeling a rare, unguarded confidence settle over her. “It’s not always as easy as it looks. But if you’re ever looking for a challenge, I’d be happy to show you a few defensive moves.”

“Is that an offer?” he asked, his blue eyes bright with interest.

“Only if you’re brave enough to face a Gryffindor Beater,” she teased.

“Consider me very interested,” he replied, his gaze steady and warm.

For a moment, their eyes met, and the usual chill of the evening air felt a bit warmer. Lysander’s easy demeanor and the confidence in his tone left her feeling lighter.

But before she could respond, she caught movement out of the corner of her eye—a flash of familiar dark curls and a piercing gaze that could only belong to one person.

Sebastian was watching them from across the field, his face unreadable but his stance tense, as if every muscle in his body was wound tight. His gaze flicked from her to Lysander, a shadow of something she couldn’t quite place lingering in his eyes.

She turned back to Lysander, offering him a smile in spite of the strange tension coiling in her stomach. "Well, then. Let me know when you’re ready for that challenge."

“Will do, Evangeline.” He shot her one last, lingering look before heading back to join the rest of his team.

As he walked off, she stole another glance at Sebastian. She wasn’t sure why, but something about his expression left her feeling unsettled.

"Sallow," she greeted him, folding her arms with a playful smirk. "Spying on the competition, are we?"

Sebastian didn’t smile. Instead, he held her gaze, his eyes dark and intense in a way that sent an odd shiver down her spine. "Just watching out for Gryffindor’s star Beater," he replied, his tone light but edged with something she couldn’t quite place.

"I think I can take care of myself," Evangeline chuckled, "Were you here when I intercepted that bludger?"

“Yeah, I saw,” he replied, his voice tight. His gaze shifted in the direction Lysander had gone, a flicker of something like irritation crossing his face. "Didn’t think you’d be sharing Beater tips with the competition, though.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “He was just thanking me for stopping him from getting hit. I’d say that’s just basic Quidditch etiquette, wouldn’t you?”

Sebastian shrugged, crossing his arms. "Sure."

Evangeline raised an eyebrow at Sebastian’s short reply, feeling an odd mixture of curiosity and amusement at his strange behavior. He was usually the first to jump in with teasing or witty remarks, but today there was something off, a hint of something guarded in his tone. She shook it off, figuring he was just having an off day, and instead gave him a small nudge.

“Anyway, enough about me playing nice with the Ravenclaws,” she said with a grin. “Are you ready to grab something to eat? I’m absolutely starving.”

That did the trick—his expression softened immediately, and the hint of tension in his stance melted as a mischievous glint returned to his eyes. “Always ready to eat,” he replied, offering her a lopsided smile. “Besides, I think you owe me for keeping me waiting out here in the cold.”

Evangeline rolled her eyes, playfully nudging him again as they turned and began walking back toward the castle. The chill in the air had settled deep into her muscles, and she relished the thought of the warm Great Hall and the promise of a hearty meal.

As they made their through the castle, the chatter of students filled the corridors, and they fell into an easy rhythm, trading jabs and comments about practice, the lingering shadows of Sebastian's odd behaviour seemingly forgotten—at least for the moment.

But as they took their seats in the bustling Great Hall, Sebastian’s gaze drifted across the room, and she noticed his eyes linger on a group of Hufflepuff girls who seemed to have been watching him since they walked in. One of them smiled and whispered to her friend, who laughed as they both looked in Sebastian’s direction.

Evangeline raised an eyebrow, feeling a strange twist in her chest. She forced herself to focus on her plate, telling herself it didn’t matter. Sebastian was just a friend, and he was free to entertain any attention he wanted.

At least, that's what she kept telling herself.

But no matter how many times she told herself that, the twist in her chest didn’t ease, so she distracted herself by spooning mashed potatoes onto her plate with more force than necessary. Next to her, Sebastian raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering across his face as he noticed her rather aggressive serving.

“Blimey, Evie,” he teased, nudging her. “Those potatoes have done nothing to deserve your wrath.”

She forced a laugh, shrugging. “Just building up my strength for Gryffindor’s next match. You wouldn’t understand, Slytherin.”

He laughed, though he seemed only half-invested, his gaze flicking back to the other table. She gritted her teeth, unable to keep the bite of irritation from her tone.

“See something interesting over there?” she asked, feigning nonchalance as she took a sip of pumpkin juice.

Sebastian gave her an innocent look, though his eyes held a glimmer of mischief. “Just… observing. You know, studying the social dynamics of our dear classmates.”

Evangeline tried to brush off his nonchalant answer, but the glint of mischief in his eyes was unmistakable. Since the start of term, it seemed like Sebastian had become something of a sensation among the female students. Sure, he’d always been popular—Sebastian was the type of person who could charm his way out of nearly any situation, his effortless confidence and easy smile making him the center of attention wherever he went. But this year, it had escalated. It was as if half the girls at Hogwarts had woken up and suddenly realized just how… intriguing Sebastian Sallow really was.

She’d had more than a few girls approach her in recent weeks, questions tinged with curiosity and, sometimes, just a hint of jealousy. They’d ask her about him, insisting that, as his best friend, she surely knew him better than anyone. And she supposed they were right. But every time a girl approached her with a subtle—or, more often, blatant—query about his “type” or his “favourite place to go in Hogsmeade,” Evangeline had to fight back the urge to roll her eyes. She couldn’t really blame them, though. Sebastian was… well, undeniably attractive.

There was something in the way he carried himself, that unshakeable confidence tempered with a mischievous glint that made him seem like he was always two steps ahead of everyone else. His dark curls had grown slightly longer, often tousled in that way that made him look like he’d just stepped off his broom. His warm brown eyes had a way of lighting up whenever he was scheming or teasing someone, and that boyish grin of his—crooked and a little too smug—seemed to captivate anyone who dared to meet it.

But it wasn’t just his looks. Sebastian had a magnetic energy that made people feel drawn to him, like they were in on some secret joke when they were with him. He was sharp-witted, quick with a comeback, and fiercely loyal to the people he cared about. And if his growing collection of admirers had any clue just how protective and caring he could be, Evangeline figured the line of hopefuls would double in length.

"Evangeline?"

“Evangeline?”

She stiffened, her fork pausing mid-air as his voice snapped her out of her thoughts. She met his deep brown gaze, momentarily caught off guard by the intensity of it. She’d seen his face a thousand times, knew the lines and angles of it like the back of her hand. But somehow, he always seemed to catch her by surprise. His skin was permanently tanned from long hours in the sun, with a natural flush that highlighted his cheekbones, and faint freckles dusted across his nose that made him look just a bit softer. But his eyes, deep and unwavering, held a warmth that seemed to pierce through her.

Her heart did a small, traitorous skip, and she quickly looked down, clearing her throat as she tried to steady herself. “Sorry—what did you say?”

Sebastian’s brows lifted, his lips curving into that familiar, crooked smile. “Lost in thought, were we?” he teased, leaning forward with a glint of amusement in his eyes.

“Just thinking about our next match,” she said, keeping her tone light as she pushed her peas around. “Gryffindor’s got to stay sharp if we’re going to crush Slytherin.”

He chuckled, his gaze still fixed on her in that slightly unsettling, knowing way. “Right. Definitely looked like some intense Quidditch strategizing going on there.”

She rolled her eyes, trying to ignore the way her heart raced under his scrutiny. “Well, someone’s got to keep focused around here. Meanwhile, you’re too busy being the Great Hall’s new celebrity.”

He leaned back, raising an eyebrow as if amused by the accusation. “Can I help it if people finally appreciate my charm and wit?”

Evangeline snorted, unable to resist the smirk that crept onto her face. “Appreciate it? You’re practically fending off fans with a broomstick these days. You could probably sell autographs.”

Sebastian laughed, shrugging, though a flicker of something crossed his expression—just a hint of discomfort, quickly replaced with his usual confidence. “Maybe I should. Could make a few galleons on the side. But,” he leaned in closer, his voice dropping a little, “I’d never charge you, Evie.”

She waved him off with a scoff, he voice flat. “Lucky me. I’ll treasure it.”

But even as they continued their playful banter, she couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that had settled in her chest, nor could she ignore the way her thoughts kept circling back to the attention he was getting, the attention that had become more noticeable with every passing week. And the worst part was, she couldn't even be upset about it, because she had no right to be. After all, Sebastian was just her friend—her best friend, at that—and he was free to flirt, charm, and bask in attention however he wanted. She should be happy for him, really. He’d always enjoyed a bit of spotlight, and if the girls at Hogwarts had finally realized what she’d known all along—that he was clever and magnetic and far too charming for his own good—then that was fine.

Or at least, it should’ve been.

"...are you going to actually eat anything?" Sebastian's voice was softer now, his gaze fixed on her with a mix of concern and curiosity.

Evangeline blinked, realizing she’d been absentmindedly pushing her food around her plate, barely touching it.

“Yeah, of course,” she replied, forcing a quick smile as she speared a potato and took a hasty bite, hoping it would mask the unease brewing beneath the surface. But his gaze didn’t waver; he was watching her closely, like he could see right through the flimsy shield of her smile.

“Evie…” He leaned in, lowering his voice, a flicker of worry in his brown eyes. "You have been eating, haven't you? You know, since we... talked about..."

Evangeline felt her stomach twist, caught off guard by the concern in his eyes. The reminder of their conversation a couple months ago—the one where he'd confronted her about that damned muffin she picked to pieces instead of eating—felt like a weight pressing down on her chest. She looked away, busying herself with cutting a piece of roast, though her appetite had vanished entirely.

“Yeah, I’ve been eating,” she said lightly, trying to keep her tone dismissive. “Just... maybe not as much as you.”

He let out a small huff of laughter, though it sounded forced, his eyes never leaving her. “Alright. But if something's going on, you can talk to me, you know.”

She met his gaze again, feeling a pang of guilt at the worry etched in his face. Part of her wanted to brush it off with another joke, but the sincerity in his expression made it hard to do so. There were no teasing smirks now, no crooked grins. Just Sebastian—her Sebastian—looking at her with that unwavering loyalty, his eyes full of something that made her heart ache.

"Seriously," she assured him, giving his hand a gentle pat, her fingers lingering on the familiar warmth of his skin, roughened slightly from Quidditch practice and dueling spells.

“I’m fine, Sebastian. Promise,” she added, her voice softening as she tried to ease the worry in his eyes.

He searched her face for a moment longer, and she could see the conflict there—half of him wanting to believe her, the other half reluctant to let it go.

Finally, he nodded, though the worry didn’t fully fade from his expression. He held her gaze a beat longer before shifting his tone, an almost playful glint sneaking back into his eyes.

“So… Clearwater, then?” he asked, his voice light, though she didn’t miss the way his fingers subtly tightened around his goblet.

Evangeline rolled her eyes, but she could feel a blush creeping into her cheeks. “This again? Sebastian, he just thanked me for stopping him from being knocked out.”

“Mhm,” Sebastian hummed, his gaze narrowing slightly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “That’s why he looked like he’d just won the Quidditch Cup while you were talking. And he asked you for ‘pointers,’ didn’t he?”

She felt her cheeks warm further but shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Well, maybe he’s just… appreciative of good teamwork.”

“Is that what they’re calling it these days?” Sebastian’s smirk deepened, though his eyes held a hint of something sharper, something he was trying to disguise under his usual teasing. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a murmur. “You should watch yourself with Clearwater. He’s got a reputation, you know. Doesn’t exactly… stay loyal to the people he charms.”

Evangeline raised an eyebrow, amused at his sudden protectiveness. “Are you really lecturing me on loyalty, Mr. I’ve Been Flirting With Half of Hogwarts Since Term Started?”

He blinked, momentarily caught off guard, before chuckling softly, a hint of color rising in his cheeks. “That’s different,” he said, brushing it off. “I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”

"What is it you two are bickering about this time?" Ominis’s dry voice interrupted, cutting through their playful back-and-forth as he slid onto the bench beside them.

Sebastian leaned back, rolling his eyes but grinning. “Just sharing some wisdom about the pitfalls of inter-house ‘friendships.’”

Evangeline scoffed, nudging Sebastian’s shoulder with her own. “Apparently, Lysander Clearwater isn’t up to Sallow standards.”

Ominis raised an eyebrow, turning his head toward Sebastian, a wry smile ghosting his lips. “And here I thought your standards had been loosened by half the female population at Hogwarts. Pot, meet kettle.”

Sebastian groaned, looking between his two friends with a playfully exasperated look. “What’s this? Ganging up on me now? You both know that’s hardly fair.”

“Hardly fair?” Evangeline smirked, her eyes twinkling. “You started it. Apparently, Lysander looking my way is cause for a full inspection.”

Ominis chuckled softly, reaching for a roll and tearing it in half. “I assume he's already attacking poor Clearwater's character."

Sebastian rolled his eyes, though there was a slight twitch in his jaw as he tried to keep his expression casual. “I’m not attacking his character,” he protested, though his tone was defensive. “Just… pointing out that he’s got a reputation, that’s all.”

“Ah, yes,” Ominis said dryly, dipping his roll into his soup. “The renowned Sebastian Sallow, Protector of Morals and Character Assessment.”

Evangeline laughed, covering her mouth as she shot Sebastian an amused look as Ominis continued, “Lysander is a perfectly respectable Ravenclaw. As respectable as they come, actually. Unlike some people,” he added, raising an eyebrow in Sebastian’s direction.

Sebastian huffed, clearly unimpressed. “Respectable? Please. The guy flirts with anything that moves.”

“Oh, so it’s fine when you do it, but not when he does?” Evangeline teased, nudging him. “Sounds a bit hypocritical, don’t you think?”

Sebastian opened his mouth to retort but hesitated, searching for a suitable comeback. He ended up shrugging instead, though the slight flush in his cheeks betrayed him. “It’s different. I’m not trying to charm you into anything.”

The words lingered in the air, a thoughtless remark tossed out in the heat of their banter. But as they settled, Evangeline felt a prickling sting she hadn’t expected. He’d said it so casually—I’m not trying to charm you into anything—as if the idea of wanting to charm her was laughable.

Her smile faltered, the laughter between them fading like the last glow of a dying ember. She turned her face away, hiding the flicker of hurt that had crept into her eyes. For a heartbeat, she tried to push it aside, to pretend it didn’t matter, but the words stuck, a quiet ache settling in her chest.

Sebastian must have realized it too because his smirk vanished, replaced by a look of dawning regret as he watched her, but she was already looking down at her plate, jaw tight, unwilling to let him see how much his careless comment had landed. Ominis, observing the silent exchange, let out a sigh, clearly exasperated with the two of them, his fingers drumming impatiently on the table.

He was used to their back-and-forth, but lately, he’d been watching this game between them with a blend of fondness and frustration, certain they were the only two in the castle who couldn’t see what was right in front of them.

Evangeline straightened, feeling the weight of Sebastian’s gaze on her, but she didn’t dare look back. If he couldn’t see her as someone worth noticing, maybe someone else could. She pushed herself up from the table abruptly, drawing curious glances from both boys.

“Where are you going?” Sebastian asked, a hint of alarm creeping into his voice as she turned from him, refusing to meet his gaze.

She didn’t answer. Instead, she let her eyes drift across the hall, settling on the Ravenclaw table where Lysander sat among his friends, laughing over something. The sight of his easygoing smile brought a small sense of defiance blooming in her chest, and without another word, she strode over to the Ravenclaws, her chin held high.

Ominis watched her go, then turned to Sebastian, his expression flat with annoyance and pity. “Well done,” he said dryly, clearly unimpressed. “You’re truly a master of tact, Sallow.”

Sebastian barely heard him, his eyes fixed on Evangeline as she approached Lysander’s table. She was smiling now, though he could see the stiffness in her shoulders, the forced cheer in her expression as she struck up a conversation with the Ravenclaw Chaser. A knot twisted in his stomach as he watched Lysander’s face light up, his grin widening as Evangeline said something that made him laugh.

For a moment, Sebastian felt a pang of something hot and fierce that he didn’t want to name. He wanted to look away, pretend it didn’t matter, but he couldn’t tear his gaze from the scene. The way Lysander leaned in, the way Evangeline tilted her head with a smile—it stirred something raw inside him.

“Jealous?” Ominis asked, his voice cutting through Sebastian’s thoughts with maddening calmness.

Sebastian shot him a glare, bristling. “Of course not,” he muttered, but his voice sounded too tight, too strained to be convincing. He looked back toward Evangeline, who was now laughing at something Lysander had said, her head thrown back in a way that made her seem… free.

“Oh, of course,” Ominis drawled, crossing his arms. “That’s why you look ready to hex poor Clearwater where he sits.”

Sebastian clenched his jaw, his fists tightening under the table. “He’s… she doesn’t even like him,” he muttered, trying to sound unconcerned, but his eyes never left her.

"Maybe not yet," Ominis replied, his tone sharpening as he watched Sebastian’s face. "But surely you must realize that telling the woman you're in love with that you're not interested in her won’t exactly bring her closer, will it?"

Sebastian felt his stomach drop, his eyes snapping to Ominis. “I didn’t say I’m in—” he started, his voice low, but Ominis cut him off with a look, one that spoke volumes.

“Oh, spare me,” Ominis said, his exasperation clear. “Anyone with half a brain can see it, and I don’t even need my eyes.”

Sebastian’s shoulders slumped, his gaze flickering over to where Evangeline sat, laughing with Lysander as if she hadn’t a care in the world. She looked… happy. And that, somehow, made the ache in his chest even worse.

“Look, it’s not as simple as you think,” Sebastian muttered, finally tearing his eyes away. “She… she’s my best friend. If she knew… well, what if it ruins everything?”

Ominis sighed, setting down his spoon with a deliberate clink. "If she knew, she might understand why you’re behaving like a jealous idiot.”

Sebastian clenched his jaw, feeling the weight of Ominis’s words settling over him, heavy and irrefutable. Deep down, he knew his friend was right. He knew that this quiet jealousy simmering beneath his skin would only push her further away, that he was risking something valuable, something he hadn’t even admitted to himself in full.

But Sebastian Sallow had never been particularly known for his rational decisions, especially when emotions came into play. His impulse to act, to throw himself into a moment without worrying about the consequences, was hard-wired. And right now, he felt that impulsive urge flaring, pushing against his better judgment.

"Sebastian," Ominis warned, sensing the shift in his posture, the way his jaw set with stubborn resolve. “Don’t be foolish.

Sebastian forced a grin, though it felt hollow. “Relax, Ominis."

Ominis’s hand shot out, grabbing Sebastian’s arm with surprising strength. “Sebastian,” he said quietly, his tone a rare mixture of urgency and exasperation. “You’re going to make things worse. For both of you.”

Sebastian hesitated, just for a moment, feeling the weight of Ominis’s words and the weight of his grip. But then he shrugged him off, giving him a look that was equal parts defiance and frustration. “I appreciate your concern, Ominis. Really. But I know what I’m doing.”

Without another word, he turned and made his way across the Great Hall, ignoring Ominis’s quiet sigh and the slight shake of his head. He could feel the eyes of a few students on him as he crossed the room, the usual curious glances that followed him since term started. And he didn’t miss the way the group of Hufflepuff girls he’d noticed earlier sat up a little straighter as he approached, their whispers stopping as they exchanged excited looks.

He slid into an empty seat next to the nearest girl, offering her an easy smile that he’d perfected over years of half-hearted flirting. “Mind if I join you?” he asked, his voice warm and inviting.

The girl—he thought her name was Lily—looked momentarily stunned, her cheeks flushing pink as she stammered a quick, “Not at all!” Her friends exchanged glances, their excitement barely contained, and Sebastian felt a fleeting surge of satisfaction. If Evangeline wanted to act like Lysander was the most charming bloke at Hogwarts, then he’d give her something to notice, too.

From across the hall, Evangeline felt her jaw clench as she watched Sebastian settle in among the Hufflepuff girls, his easy smile and charm on full display.

Fine, she thought, glancing away with forced indifference. If Sebastian wanted to throw himself at every girl who batted an eyelash his way, that was his choice. She certainly wasn’t going to sit around worrying over it. Instead, she turned her attention to Lysander, who was midway through a story about a misadventure in Ravenclaw Tower involving an escaped Fwooper.

She laughed, genuinely this time, as Lysander animatedly described the scene, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement. The Ravenclaw’s charm was undeniable, his easygoing smile and gentle confidence putting her at ease. As she listened, she found herself relaxing, letting her focus shift from the sting of Sebastian’s behavior to the warmth of the conversation in front of her.

“So,” Lysander said, leaning slightly closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Is it true Gryffindor Beaters have secret drills for extra strength?”

Evangeline smirked, shrugging playfully. “Maybe. You’ll have to earn that kind of classified information, though.”

He grinned, lifting a brow, "Earn it, you say? And what exactly would it take for a humble Ravenclaw Chaser like me to earn such privileged information?”

Evangeline bit back a smile, trying to match his playful tone. “Oh, I don’t know,” she said, tapping her chin as though she were deep in thought. Inside, her heart was racing, each word requiring more confidence than she felt.

Unlike Sebastian, who seemed to flirt effortlessly and without a second thought, Evangeline was not naturally flirtatious. She was far deeper into this than she’d planned, each exchanged look and teasing remark drawing her further in. The thrill of it—the unfamiliar territory of genuine, mutual interest—sent a rush through her, both exhilarating and terrifying.

"Perhaps, we could discuss terms over a butterbeer at the Broomsticks?"

She couldn't believe the words had left her mouth. Had she really just suggested that? A flicker of nerves swept through her, and she fought to keep her expression steady, hoping her voice hadn’t sounded as shaky as she felt.

Lysander’s face lit up, his easy smile shifting into something warmer, almost excited. “Now that,” he said, leaning in just a touch closer, “sounds like an excellent idea. Would tomorrow work for you, Evangeline?"

Her heart gave a little flip at the way he said her name, soft and sure, like it was something he’d wanted to say for a while. She held his gaze, feeling her cheeks warm under his steady look, and couldn’t help the small, genuine smile that tugged at her lips. This felt… new, like she’d opened a door to something she hadn’t realized she wanted.

“Alright,” she replied, managing to keep her tone light, “but fair warning: Gryffindor terms are notoriously steep. I hope you’re prepared.”

Lysander chuckled, unfazed. “I’d expect nothing less."

Evangeline lingered with Lysander for another few minutes, their conversation light and easy, a comfortable warmth settling between them as they continued to exchange smiles and laughs.

Eventually, she glanced over her shoulder and noticed Ominis waiting patiently, his gaze turned politely toward the far end of the hall. She realized with a start that she’d been chatting with Lysander much longer than she’d meant to.

“Well,” she said, returning her gaze to Lysander, her lips curling into a soft smile. “Thanks for the company. And, um… I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Lysander’s smile widened, a hint of satisfaction in his expression. “Tomorrow it is. I’ll look forward to it, Evangeline.”

Her cheeks warmed as he said her name, and she gave him a small nod before finally breaking away. She turned and made her way back to Ominis, her heart still racing slightly from the thrill of agreeing to meet Lysander.

When she reached Ominis, he turned toward her with a bemused expression, his lips twitching into a faint smirk. “You were over there for a while,” he commented, his voice laced with amusement. “I’d nearly forgotten we were here to eat.”

Evangeline rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “I was just being friendly.”

“Friendly, hm?” Ominis arched an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “It looked a bit more than ‘friendly’ from where I was sitting. I’d go so far as to call it ‘charmed.’”

She tried to shrug off his comment, but the hint of color on her cheeks betrayed her. “Well… maybe there was a little charm involved.”

Ominis chuckled, his smirk widening. “It seems I’ll have to get used to you being the center of attention for once, though I think there’s one person here who won’t be quite as pleased about it.”

Evangeline’s smile faltered as she followed Ominis’s gaze back to where Sebastian sat with the Hufflepuff girls, his easy laugh and confident posture unmistakable. Even from a distance, she could tell he was laying on his charm. The familiar pang of irritation crept back into her chest as she watched him, feeling that strange, unsettling twist that she still didn’t want to name.

“It's not like I care what he thinks,” she muttered, crossing her arms.

Ominis gave her a long, skeptical look, one that made her cheeks burn. She shot him a warning glance, daring him to say anything more.

“Alright," He acquiesced, "So what did you and Clearwater talk about? Or should I be asking what you two agreed on, based on that smile?”

Evangeline hesitated, feeling her cheeks warm again under his knowing gaze. “He… may have agreed meet up for a butterbeer tomorrow. Just to, you know, chat about Quidditch and such.”

“Of course,” Ominis replied, his voice dripping with amused disbelief. “Just casual Quidditch talk, is it?”

She huffed, nudging him with her elbow. “Honestly, Ominis, it’s nothing serious. Just… something new. I thought it’d be fun.”

“Good,” Ominis said, his expression softening. “You deserve some fun, Evangeline.”

As they finished up lunch, they chatted about classes, gossip around the school, and their upcoming assignments, Ominis filling the time with his usual dry wit and grounded observations. The comfort of his friendship helped chase away the lingering thoughts of Sebastian and Lysander, allowing her to settle into a sense of ease once again.

Later that evening, Evangeline and Ominis tucked themselves into a quiet corner of the library to study. Stacks of parchment, a handful of old textbooks, and an assortment of quills were spread out between them, illuminated by the flickering glow of a nearby lantern. The library was mostly empty, the muffled silence only broken by the occasional soft footsteps of Scribner as she prowled the aisles, keeping an eagle eye on the few students who lingered.

Evangeline was absorbed in her notes when she sensed movement out of the corner of her eye. Glancing up, she nearly dropped her quill. Sebastian was weaving his way through the shelves, and he looked… well, thoroughly disheveled.

His shirt was partially untucked, his tie hanging loosely and crooked, and his dark curls were charmingly mussed, as though he’d either been in a hurry—or had been busy with something else entirely. His gaze darted around the library as if searching for someone, and when his eyes landed on her, he froze.

Ominis noticed her sudden silence and looked up. “Is something wrong?” he asked, but then he followed her gaze and gave an exasperated sigh. “Ah. I see someone’s had an eventful evening.”

Sebastian made his way over to them, sliding into the seat across from her with a lazy grin, entirely unbothered by his disheveled state. “Evening,” he said, stretching out and folding his hands behind his head, giving off an air of smug satisfaction.

“Had a good night, did we?” Ominis asked, not bothering to mask the sarcasm.

Sebastian shrugged, looking at them with a glint in his eye. “Not bad,” he replied. “I may have run into a few people who needed entertaining.”

Evangeline kept her face carefully blank, refusing to give Sebastian the satisfaction of a reaction, but beneath the surface, she felt like the air had been pulled from her lungs.

Her chest tightened painfully as she imagined what he'd been up to, and with whom. A vague, irrational jealousy flared, stinging her with an intensity she hadn’t expected.

It wasn’t fair, she told herself. She had no right to feel this way, no right to feel possessive over him, but that didn’t stop her mind from replaying the image of him hidden away with some Hufflepuff girl in a broom closet, his face inches from hers, that same lazy grin he now wore aimed at someone else. The idea left a bitter taste in her mouth.

After a tense silence, she managed to last another five minutes, pretending to be engrossed in her studies, but each second felt like a fresh test of her endurance. Finally, unable to stand the smug look on Sebastian’s face or the suffocating jealousy tightening in her chest, she snapped her book shut.

“I think that’s all for me tonight,” she announced, shoving her notes and quill into her bag with hurried movements. “I’ve got an early morning.”

Ominis, perceptive as ever, raised an eyebrow but kept a knowing smile to himself. “Goodnight, Evie,” he replied, and then, as though he’d read her thoughts, added with perfectly timed mischief, “And enjoy your butterbeer with Lysander tomorrow.”

The effect on Sebastian was immediate. His relaxed posture tensed, and his lazy grin faded, his brows drawing together in confusion and irritation. He opened his mouth to say something, but Evangeline was already getting to her feet, determined to escape before he could ask any questions.

“Thanks, Ominis,” she said, shooting him a small, grateful smile, as if he’d somehow offered her a lifeline. “Goodnight, Sebastian,” she added with forced nonchalance, barely looking at him.

“Night, Evie,” he replied, but his voice lacked its usual warmth, and she could feel his eyes boring into her as she made her way toward the library exit.

As Evangeline disappeared around the corner, Sebastian watched the spot where she’d just been, a muscle ticking in his jaw. He seemed to be struggling to process what Ominis had just casually dropped into the conversation. A date with Lysander Clearwater? Since when did she—

“What was that all about?” Sebastian finally asked, his voice tight as he turned to Ominis. His eyes held a mix of frustration and something that bordered on betrayal.

Ominis leaned back in his chair, looking far too pleased with himself. “What?" he replied, feigning innocence as he flipped open his book again, though he wasn’t even glancing at the page.

Sebastian huffed, crossing his arms and sinking back in his chair. “Since when is she… going on dates."

“Oh, since today,” Ominis replied, his tone smooth and maddeningly calm. “She asked him out. They’re meeting at the Three Broomsticks.”

She asked him?! The confirmation made something twist uncomfortably in Sebastian’s chest. He remembered Evie talking to Clearwater earlier, her bright smile and relaxed demeanour, the way she’d laughed with him in a way that looked so… easy. And now, that same ease would be shared over butterbeer, while he’d be left to watch from the sidelines, unwanted and out of place.

“What’s so great about him, anyway?” Sebastian muttered, glaring at a distant spot on the library wall. “He’s… boring. Probably reads strategy books for fun.”

Ominis chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “Don’t be so dramatic, Sebastian. Lysander’s a perfectly decent person. He’s polite, intelligent, kind—qualities Evangeline seems to appreciate.” He shot Sebastian a sidelong glance, his gaze softening. “It’s not exactly a mystery why she might enjoy his company.”

Sebastian scoffed, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “He’s just not… right for her. They’ve barely spoken before this term.”

“And you’d rather have her stay by your side, trailing after you while you flirt with every girl who looks your way?” Ominis raised an eyebrow, his tone cool. “You can’t have it both ways, Sebastian.”

“I’m not—” Sebastian started, his frustration growing as Ominis’s words dug under his skin. “It’s not like that. I just don’t see why she has to be with someone like him.”

Ominis closed his book with a soft thud, fixing Sebastian with a patient yet exasperated look. “Listen, Sebastian. You’re my best friend, but you’re also insufferably thick sometimes. If you're not going to admit how you feel, then you should at least be happy for her.”

Sebastian’s fists clenched at his sides, unwilling to admit that Ominis was right, that this wasn’t just a matter of Clearwater’s supposed faults. No, it was the gnawing feeling in his chest, the realization that he’d taken her presence for granted—believing, foolishly, that she’d always be there, waiting in the background, just for him.

“Do you really think she’s… interested in him?” he asked quietly, almost hoping Ominis would tell him otherwise.

Ominis sighed, softening. “I think she’s looking for someone who appreciates her, and Lysander’s offered her that. And frankly, she deserves it.” Then, after a beat, he added pointedly, “But it doesn’t have to be him, Sebastian. You could stop pretending you’re not interested.”

Sebastian didn’t respond immediately, staring at the table as if it held answers he couldn’t grasp. Obviously, he wasn’t about to admit to Evangeline that he was undeniably, completely, and utterly in love with her—and had been for over a year now. There was a terrifying vulnerability in even considering it, in risking the one constant he’d always counted on.

But the image of her laughing with Lysander, of her being charmed by him and agreeing to meet him tomorrow, tugged at something deep and raw within him. The thought of her choosing someone else, someone who didn’t know her half as well as he did... he couldn't take it.

Without another word to Ominis, Sebastian pushed back his chair and stood, his resolve hardening with each step he took toward the library exit. Behind him, he heard Ominis sigh, but he didn’t have time to worry about what Ominis thought. Right now, he only knew one thing—he couldn’t just sit there while she walked out of his reach.

The corridors were dim and quiet as he hurried after her, his footsteps echoing as he scanned each hallway, hoping he hadn’t lost her. His heart thudded with a mixture of nerves and frustration as he rounded a corner and finally spotted her, her dark hair falling over her shoulders as she made her way toward the staircase.

“Evie!” he called, his voice louder than he’d intended in the quiet of the castle.

She stopped, turning to see him striding toward her, and her eyes widened slightly, her expression shifting between surprise and something he couldn’t quite place. “Sebastian?” she said, folding her arms defensively as he closed the distance between them.

He hadn’t thought this far ahead. Standing in front of her now, the words he’d wanted to say evaporated, replaced by the realization that he had no plan, only a jumble of emotions he hadn’t sorted out. But he couldn’t turn back now, not with her looking at him like that, as if she could see right through his bravado.

“I, um…” He ran a hand through his hair, stalling for a moment. “I just—didn’t get a chance to say goodnight properly.”

Evangeline raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “Goodnight properly?” She huffed, clearly unconvinced.

Sebastian shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, feeling the weight of her skepticism. “Yeah, you know… just thought I should… say it,” he stumbled, his usual easy confidence faltering. “I mean, you left pretty quickly.”

Evangeline’s brow arched higher, her arms still crossed as she gave him a level look. “I'm tired,” she replied, her voice calm, but there was a flicker of irritation in her eyes. “Long day. And I need to be up early tomorrow."

Sebastian’s jaw tightened, and he tried to brush it off, but the words stung, his stomach twisting at the reminder. “Right, for Clearwater,” he said, his tone sharper than he’d intended.

She narrowed her eyes, her irritation flaring. “And?"

Sebastian took a steadying breath, fighting to keep his composure, but his frustration slipped into his tone. “And I just don’t see why you’d waste your time with him, that’s all.”

Evangeline’s eyes flashed, and she uncrossed her arms, taking a step forward. “Waste my time? Since when is having a simple butterbeer wasting my time?”

He clenched his fists, struggling to find the right words. “It’s not that, it’s just… I don’t think he’ll appreciate you. Not really.”

She let out a breath, exasperated. “And you know that how? Did Clearwater suddenly become some kind of villain while I wasn’t looking?”

“No, but—”

“But nothing, Sebastian.” Her voice softened, but there was a sadness there, a deep disappointment that cut through him. “If you can’t be happy for me, then at least don’t make me feel bad for wanting… something new.

Sebastian felt his chest tighten, a desperate urge clawing at him to stop her, to make her see how he felt. But he was paralyzed, the words stuck in his throat. All he could do was watch as she shook her head slightly, her face a mixture of frustration and resignation.

“Goodnight, Sebastian,” she said, her voice laced with a forced calm that did little to hide the sting behind her words. “Have fun snogging your flavor of the week in whatever broom closet you end up in.”

The jab landed harder than he expected, and he flinched, momentarily caught off guard by the bitterness in her tone. She didn’t wait for a response, though. Before he could say anything, she’d already turned, her footsteps brisk and purposeful as she disappeared down the hall.

Sebastian stood there, rooted to the spot, a mixture of guilt and frustration twisting in his chest. The hollow emptiness that followed her departure settled into something heavier, something that gnawed at him with each step she took further out of reach.

A part of him wanted to run after her, to catch her arm and tell her that none of it mattered, that the flirting, the charm he used so carelessly—it was all meaningless. He wanted to tell her that it was only her smile, her laugh, her presence that he craved, that his foolish pride had kept him from admitting what he knew deep down: he didn’t want anyone else.

But he’d let her walk away, and it was too late to take that back now.

Read more stories about Sebastian and Evangeline

[whytheylosttheirminds]

How do you feel about Rafe and Sarah’s dynamic this season. I feel like it was a bit rushed . I mean, they have such a complex and conflicted relationship. The writers could’ve really made an interesting story here, but I just didn’t believe them at the end. . Drew and Maddy are excellent actors, but I just don’t think the script sometimes does them justice. Their final scene with they’re talking just doesn’t feel earned. What do you think?

I 100% agree. I loooove the hug scene don’t get me wrong, but I think it could’ve been even better with just 3 or 4 more lead up moments/scenes to get us there. I think the scene where she goes to his house (grey polo with the too small sleeves you icon) and flinches when he gets mad and runs away when he leans in is written, directed and acted beautifully. one of the best scenes in the show for real.

Here are the places I would have put more interactions between that scene and the hug scene to bring it home:

• when JJ is floating in the water after falling off Chandler’s boat, Rafe is the one that finds him and pulls him from the water, returns him to the pogues. There’s no big conversation about it, he just drops him off at their camp and gives Sarah a nod before driving away. It’s not heroic, it just opens the door that she closed when she ran from his condo.

• they have a longer conversation when she brings him food and water while he’s tied up. Maybe the door closes behind her and she accidentally gets locked in there with him (that’s cliche but some kind of forced proximity that results in them having to speak) in this scene I would add in him telling her about Sofia. maybe he sees the wedding ring John B gave her and it prompts him to tell her he gave Sofia their mom’s ring and he thinks she’ll be mad but she surprises him by saying “I think that’s great, Rafe.” The purpose of this would be her seeing he’s made real progress and an acknowledgement of family history.

• when she’s hungry and they all go to steal apples and cause all that chaos he disappears for a second and comes back with a whole ass meal for her, refusing to explain how he got it. I both think this would be hilarious and would provide the chance for him to acknowledge her pregnancy. Then they could still come back with the apple, and almost get arrested and rafe could pull out his change purse and go on his shopping spree just the same.

I think with those 3 things (or even just similar things), that moment would’ve been even more glorious but das just me!

[desiresiwant]

Something About You Chapter One

pairing: Seth Clearwater X Black!OC

word count: 6.4k~

warnings: strong language, usage of alcohol, non-con kiss, a pretty much tamed 1st chapter…for now

description: Seth Clearwater finally imprints on Diamond Hicks, someone who just isn’t looking love. While she struggles with her feelings and promises, Seth struggles to find a balance between his new and old self so he can become the wolf his imprint needs.

a/n: Been very excited and impatient to bring this fic to life, so here it is!!! I’d recommend checking out the masterlist before reading, given much has changed from the story we know. If there’s a warning I skipped let me know. P.S The beach scenes were written when it was originally taken place in a warmer month, but changed my mind and didn’t wish to rewrite anything aside from slighty changing minor details. Trust I know how cold 60 can be but it’s fiction.

MASTERLIST | NEXT ->

Chapter One | Stolen Kiss

Seattle, Washington | February 9, 2024

        𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗪𝗔𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧 how Diamond wished to spend her weekend—seven weekends in a row stuck at a family-owned restaurant, cleaning chicken masala between the floor cracks because parents weren’t watching their children who have a tendency to throw whatever in their direction on the floor. 

        This was NOT the adult life Diamond looked forward to when finally leaving home to attend the University of Washington (U.W). Built in one of the cloudiest cities surrounded by endless beauty of mother nature, miles from Orlando, Florida. One of the hottest cities in one of the hottest states, cluttered with people and flashy attractions. The only similarity that felt most like home was rain.

        Never once did Diamond imagine herself so far from home, but unfortunately, U.W was the only institution to offer a full ride for track and field. She accepted immediately and officially became a Husky. 

        But it didn’t cover food, travel, personal expenses, and bills. Diamond’s mother could only send so much with other mouths to feed, being a foster mother to five other children. She knew soon enough the responsibility would be hers to bear as it normally had been.

        The easy one, her mother would describe Diamond. 

        The one who never cried, never asked for much, never made life too difficult. The one who always had to make a way because there was no one else to do it for her. And in a household filled with children every few months or years, it’s easy to forget the easy one when schedules were packed with appointments, drama, and school—which left Diamond to fulfill not only the role of an only child, which that she was, but a parent too.

        Moving to an unfamiliar environment added to that lonesome feeling, but it was also a fresh breath of air. Therapeutic even. 

        Diamond tossed the last thick lump of sauce-covered napkins in the bucket filled with the rest of the meal. Apparently, the mop was broken and the owner’s hard-headed son left to buy a new mop, yet it’s been hours since he returned. It seems he prioritized his Friday night plans, which his parents were heavily against. Something about catching a movie with friends, a harmless movie Mr. Devgn feared would install unhealthy mindsets. 

        Something Diamond should’ve been doing if she hadn’t canceled plans to pick up an extra shift. 

        Mrs. Devgn caught sight of Diamond heading back and perked from her seat behind the register, pausing the drama she was watching on her phone. “Thank you for handling that mess and staying a bit late. When it gets crazy on the weekends, I know we can count on you to come through.” She said and then frowned at her sauce-covered fingers. “I’m sorry you had to clean bare-headed. Karan should be back any second now with that mop.”

        Diamond bit back her scoff. That boy wasn’t coming back and everyone knew it too. “It’s not a problem. At least it wasn’t piping hot.”

        “Oh, god, no! That would be a disaster!”

        Ayra, the Devgn’s third child, appeared through the red curtains with a scoff. “Karan’s not coming back, ma. You picked the wrong child for errands. We all know he’s watching that R-rated movie Baba said no to.”

        Mrs. Devgn smacked her shoulder, knocking out the AirPod hidden beneath her hair that she was secretly listening to music on. “Don’t let your father hear.” She whispered, peeking over her shoulder for her husband nowhere in sight. “He’s already in a pissy mood dealing with your other brother and his costly habits. Go take make yourself useful and take them drinks to table three.”

        “You said I could ring!” Ayra pouted.

        “Go!”

        Ayra couldn’t defy Mrs. Devgn stern look, daring her child to challenge her authority. She flung her head back with a dragged groan before taking the tray of drinks to table three. 

        “Don’t let me hold you up, Diamond. You wash up and take your lunch. I warmed you a plate. It's in the break room since I didn’t trust David and his sticky fingers.”

        “You don’t have to make me lunch every time, Mrs. Devgn. I appreciate it but I don’t want you overworking yourself.”

        Mrs. Devgn waved her off. “All my employees must eat. Plus you’re an athlete and so far from home, I know you’re not eating enough home-cooked meals. Now go, wash wash and eat.”

        She sat comfortably in her chair and resumed her show.

        Diamond knew this wasn’t a fight she could win and Mrs. Devgn was right; she hadn’t eaten enough home-cooked meals. Mostly takeout and cheap ramen. Between classes, practices, and work, exhaustion remained a constant component when it came to cooking and oftentimes cleaning.

        After dumping the bucket and washing her hands, Diamond sat at the mini table in the break room and ate her lamb and chicken bowl mixed in silence. She scrolled through her phone catching up with everyone else’s life on Instagram, imagining herself in their shoes. Taking weekend trips out of the country, getting front-row seats at a concert, splurging money on shopping sprees with friends, and going on cute little dates with a significant other.

        The kind of thrill Diamond should be experiencing especially during her sophomore year in college, away from her mom and her old life. This was the time to start a new life and create new and better memories outside her usual routine…yet had no idea where to start. And was nearly two years late.

        A call paused the story Diamond was currently watching and saw it was her roommate Renesmee calling. She quickly swallowed what was left in her mouth before picking up. “Hey, what’s u—”

        “What are you doing and please don’t tell me you’re working?” Renesmee asked as soon as the line connected.

        Diamond looked around the small room that smelt heavily of her food clashing with other scents from the kitchen. She debated lying to her friend, but what’s the point when she somehow always knew when she was lying?

        Her shoulders fell with defeat as she confirmed, “I’m working. I picked up an extra shift so I won’t be home until eleven-ish, maybe midnight.”

        “God, no, Diamond! Why did you say yes to working late on a Friday night?”

        “I…need the money,” Diamond replied as if it wasn’t obvious in the first place. “Some people aren’t born with golden spoons like you, Nes.” 

        From the time she’s known Renesmee since Diamond’s previous roommate dropped out two weeks within the first semester—who was quite literally the nicest and selfless person ever met, whose grandmother occasionally cooked meals and stuffed the pantries with everything found in a grocery store—it was clear her wealth was out of the question. She was always seen with the latest technology, the rarest edition of purses and shoes, and clothes from unheard-of brands, made from raw material that needed to be washed a certain way. Her side of the room was straight out of a Pinterest board compared to Diamond’s side which had all that she needed and a poster of her favorite movie. She had pictures in her gallery from all over the world. She even owned an expensive car that would take Diamond two generations to pay off, and could only imagine the price of her house she goes back to every break. 

        Working wasn’t a word in Renesmee’s vocabulary, but she was a hard-working student. Always up studying while Diamond crashed out in bed. Sometimes it felt like Renesmee was wasting her time in college by how quickly her mind soaked up information. When she’s bored, she’s reading. When she’s about to sleep, she’s reading. When she’s in a good mood, she’s reading. And it wasn’t silly romance or epic fantasies, but thick nonfiction books that gave Diamond a headache, she enjoyed for regular entertainment.

        “You’re right. I should be mindful of others' situations and I apologize if I came off ignorant.” Renesmee’s apology would’ve caught Diamond off guard if it wasn’t a usual occurrence. Being wrong and taking accountability was nothing she feared. “But I really needed you off today or at least out by six.”

        Diamond paused. “How’d you know I was originally off today?”

        “You write your schedule color-coded on the calendar pinned above your bed, silly. Quite literally hard to miss.”

        “Oh…right.” Her face heated in embarrassment and picked at a piece of shredded lamb before plopping it in her mouth. “So what’s happening at six?”

        “Technically it happens later, but remember my aunt I told you about? The psychic one? Yeah, well, I asked her to look into your future—“

        “Now why would you do that?”

        “You’re my roommate…and my first college friend. I wanted to make sure you’ll stay in my life forever, or however long life gives. Soft spoiler—I overacted over nothing.” Her nervous chuckle failed to comfort herself, admitting words Diamond found hard to believe. 

        Her first college friend? Renesmee was always surrounded by people on campus. Of course, when her boyfriend Jacob wasn’t there to scare everyone away with one look. 

        But the feeling was mutual. Although Renesmee wasn’t Diamond’s first friend in college, she valued their friendship and wanted it to last. The soft spoiler confused her though. 

        Renesmee’s chippy personality came back to life. “Anyway, I asked her to look into your future and she told me something life-changing will happen tonight.” She mused.

        “If it’s Karan coming back with a mop, tell her it’s already too late.” Diamond said into another bite.

        “I have no idea who that is but he has nothing to do with tonight.”

        “You know I don’t believe in that shit, Nes. I gave up wishing on a star and learned to accept reality, or whatever form of reality I choose to accept.”

        She sighed. “I know, but you gotta trust me on this one.”

        “Why?”

        Silence filled the line but not for too long.

        “I can’t say just yet, it’ll spoil the future but trust me. You’ve been ranting about how boring and lonely your life has been since moving to Seattle, wanting to spice it up and meet new people. And I get it, it's not like Florida, but this will change everything. It’s exactly what you need and have been searching for.” She said and there was noise in the background. Faded music, shouting voices, and lots of thick wind. “Come down to La Push. There’s a bonfire happening with lots of hot guys from university and drinks, and the beach—which you’ve said you miss. I can also really use the company of my friend. Please come! Please, please !”

        La Push? 

        That was the exact plan Diamond turned down when a few members on the track team asked if she would pop out. Because Mrs. Devgn asked first about the shift, she declined the outing. This had to be a coincidence. A crazy one that was four damn hours away.

        “La Push is nearly four hours away for one. Two, It’s cold as hell. Three, I don’t have a car and Ubering there in this economy is probably over two hundred dollars. Money I’m not tryna spend over she-say.”

        “Not a problem! I’ll Venmo you the money. The cold never bothered you anyway, the bonfire will keep you warm if you get cold.”

        “I can’t take that from you.” Diamond shut down quickly.

        “Why not? There’s more where it came from, remember? Golden spoon.”

        “I don’t wanna be indebted to you.”

        “What debt? I’m inviting you so I should be the one to take care of the expenses. I promise it’s okay. You don’t need to pay me back.” There was a short pause on the line because Renesmee came back. “Scratch that—pay me back by coming. I’ll hold it over your head if you don’t.”

        Diamond never met this aunt Renesmee constantly brought up and chatted with on the phone, or maybe she had and didn’t know with the many people her roommate attracted like a moth to light. But one thing was certain, she made one hell of a case. 

        Her life has been boring maintaining the same sleep-work-practice-homework schedule, and never felt more alone than she had when first arriving in Washington. Diamond wouldn’t consider herself a borderline introvert, but she would never go out her way to introduce herself to strangers unless it was necessary. Unlike those fortunate enough to link with another upon first meeting, Diamond needed time to warm up to someone. Only then could she be her unfiltered self. But because of those limits she was hesitant to push has caused her life to spiral into uncertainty and unfulfilled satisfaction. 

        Aside from her job, Diamond had nothing to lose. If her roommate’s supposedly psychic aunt swore down this night would change the trajectory of her sad life, then the risk—including the freezing weather and the four-hour long drive—was worth it. 

         “Fine. I’ll come to this stupid bonfire and see what the hype is about.” Diamond agreed and had to hold the phone away from Renesmee squealing with excitement.

        “Thank you! I’ve already sent the money. Come as fast as you can, I’ll see you here!”

————————————-

      𝗗𝗜𝗔𝗠𝗢𝗡𝗗 𝗧𝗢𝗢𝗞 𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗦𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗔𝗜𝗗 𝗕𝗘𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗘. The cost to Uber to La Push wasn’t worth the risk and she dreaded the price of heading back to U.W. Even though Renesmee didn’t mind covering the cost, two hundred was still a lot and four hours spent on the road for a word of mouth was delusion at its finest. Hopefully, she could catch a ride back with Renesmee since they were roommates; anything to save money and the installed mindset of feeling indebted even toward genuine acts of kindness.

        The parking lot was overfilled with cars packed with party-goers like sardines, dragging their friends to race across the sand and meet others dancing around multiple lit bonfires and scattered tents. Diamond removed her shoes and socks to bury her toes in the cool white sand. She closed her eyes and inhaled the salty dry breeze. It reminded her of Florida aside from the cold, home she missed very much. 

        “Diamond! You made it!” 

        Diamond opened her eyes to Renesmee running toward her in a royal blue two-piece bathing suit with a black sheer cover-up tied around her waist. Her long brunette hair danced with the wind, and she had the biggest smile on her pale face with her arms stretched out, knocking Diamond slightly off her feet when she came crashing against her. 

        Diamond hugged her back with a warm laughter as she balanced herself and Renesmee apologized. She was almost convinced her friend matched her height until she realized Renesmee was lifting on her toes. Not that she was much taller, only an inch or two apart.

        “I’m so happy you’re here! You’re in for one hell of a night.” Renesmee pulled away from the hug first, radiating indescribably youth and beauty.

        “I would hope so since that’s why I’m here.”

        She shook her head with a knowing smile. “How were you able to get off early? I thought your boss was strict on busy days?”

        “They are, but I lied. Said I was feeling queasy. My boss offered ginger tea and wanted me to wait it out and see how I felt after a while, but ultimately let me go home. Speaking of which, I am riding back with you right?”

        “Of course. I would never leave you here stranded though, I doubt you’ll leave with me after tonight anyway.” Her dark arched brows wiggled, hinting at whatever her supposedly psychic aunt saw in Diamond’s future.

        A gift she still refused to believe as it was impossible to see the future and Renesmee had a weird sense of humor. Anything said out of her mouth couldn't be trusted on rare occasions especially when speaking about her insanely wealthy family. Aside from that, she’s very honest for the most part. 

        “Oh, I definitely will be leaving with you without a doubt.”

        Renesmee shook her head, chuckling. Then she wrapped an arm around Diamond’s and pulled her toward the coolers near the grills flipping over burgers and hot dogs. They popped open two cool bottles of strawberry seagrams. The fizzled fruity taste was more like soda than alcohol, a drink easily finished and grabbed for another round. Mango flavor this time. 

        “I know that’s not Diamond all the way out here? Outside and at a party?” Before she could turn and see who called her out, an arm threw itself around her neck, pulling on her braids. “You said you were picking up an extra shift and couldn’t make it. You lying bitch!”

        Diamond knew it was Kimi, her track teammate. She had rich russet skin and wide-set expressive eyes. Her dark loose curls were thrown in a messy bun, dressed in jean shorts and a hot pink bikini top, showing off her athletic figure. Next to her was Tayen, also another track teammate. She had dyed her hair pink but the color had dulled and her roots were growing in black. Neither opposed the chilly weather and treated it like a regular sunny day.

        Renesmee spoke up before Diamond could. “That’s because I convinced her to put herself over her job. It’s also her first time in La Push so treat her nice.”

        Tayen clasped a hand against Diamond’s shoulder after she was freed from Kimi as if commencing her first experience. “Welcome to La Push and our humbly reservation home to the Quileute tribe, which is open to all who respect our land, culture, and people.”

        Kimi leaned forward, covering her mouth as she whispered, “between me and you, this is only a step into the reservation. If you truly want a taste of our enriching culture—my culture as a Makah, I would speak to the elders. God knows they love sharing a good story about our guiding spirits, ancient legends, and whatnot.”

        “I’ll consider it, thank you.” Diamond said, sipping her drink and tightening her tote bag on her shoulder. She had no idea where her tribe was located but it didn’t dull the excitement to learn about it and more. 

        “Don’t pressure her, Kimi,” Tayen chuckled. “She’s always migrating people to her grandma so she doesn’t have to sit and listen to her talk off her ear.” 

        Kimi playfully shoved Tayen aside to defend herself and this vile accusation that gave Diamond and Renesmee a good laugh. “Hey, she loves fresh new faces! She’s practically forcing me to bring people home even if I gotta kidnap them and drag them across the damn border.”

        Renesmee threw out a protective arm, guiding Diamond behind her. “No one’s kidnapping my roommate so don’t even think about it. I promised to get her home in one piece.”

        Kimi lifted her hands in defeat, finally backing off.

        Renesmee turned to Diamond and took in her attire. “I hope you’re not planning on getting wet in jeans?” She asked and her brows furrowed in confusion. 

        “It’s sixty degrees…?”

        “That’s what the bonfire and alcohol is for, track star. We've ran in colder conditions. You’ll warm up in no time.” Tayen said, which was true. This weather was nothing to her but a different kind of cold compared to Florida. Shorts were still acceptable clothing during Florida’s chilly days, but in Washington, shorts was basically signing a death wish.

        “You did bring a bathing suit, right?” Asked Renesmee. “Where’s your bag?”

        “What bag? I left work straight here,” she chewed her bottom lip, motioning toward her plain black jacket, t-shirt, and jeans. “This is all I have.”

        Renesmee kissed her teeth. “I told you to bring a bag. It’s beach night! Every couple of months the reservation hosts a beach party open to the public. There’s fun activities, movies, music, games, and the only few opportunities we can stay on the beach and sleep in cute tents without being fined.”

        “That’s not what you told me.” Diamond said. “You told me to show up so I assumed this was a few hours type situation then we drive back, not an overnight thing. Why didn’t you tell me all this when we were on the phone? You know I know nothing about this state besides U.W. let alone bonfire night in a city I’ve never been to.”

        Her eyes narrowed with guilt. “Oh. It must’ve slipped my mind when I got too excited about you coming. I’m sorry.”

        Of course, Diamond wasn’t mad at her roommate. It was an honest mistake. “It’s fine. I just don’t have anything else to wear, and I’m not particularly fond of swimming in ice-cold water. I’m unprepared which I don’t like being. But I guess I can participate for the night.”

        Another risk she was willing to take.

        “Okay, don’t panic ladies, I brought extra bathing suits. You’re free to borrow either one and any other stuff needed for tonight. There’s also plenty of shops in Forks too.” Kimi and the rest offered to chip in to ensure a smooth night. 

        Kimi was already guiding Diamond away from the beach and from Tayen and Renesmee to her small black car in the parking lot.

        She changed in the backseat while Kimi kept watched, and talked Diamond’s ear off about various topics. Most were of those she hadn’t met, coach being a pain in the ass last practice, homework due tonight that she hadn’t started on; and had even proposed Diamond should share a tent with her and Tayen since Renesmee would obviously be sleeping with her boyfriend, to which Diamond agreed. She didn’t want to impose on their lovey-doveyness. It would be awkward too. The two were inseparable.

        The strapless one-piece was a little loose around the chest area but it was a perfect fit. They wore the same size in clothes though Kimi was more muscular with bigger breasts and wider hips as opposed to Diamond with both the thighs and the ass but somewhat smaller breasts. She tied her small-sized braids back from her face and shoved her clothes into her tote bag before getting out. 

        Renesmee was spotted with her boyfriend Jacob as they were walking back to the beach. Tayen was nowhere to be found, nothing out of the ordinary. There were a lot more shirtless men than there were before. All long-haired, muscular, with a tribal tattoo on their arm much similar to Jacob's if not the same. And all unaffected by the chilly weather.

        Jacob had his arms wrapped around her slim body, reaching over her shoulder to bite into the chili hotdog Renesmee was feeding him. She squealed when chili kept dropping on her, so he struck out his tongue and licked wherever it fell along her skin. 

        Diamond wasn’t aware of the creepy smile on her face until her cheeks were aching. Renesmee and Jacob were disgustingly cute together, practically meant to be. Their warm interaction highlighted the loneliness weighing her heart. They had the type of love Diamond wanted to experience someday if life allowed it to happen.

         She hadn’t the best experience with love. She hadn’t even been in a relationship before or surpassed the talking stage. Most was due to her priorities with track and solidifying her career so she wouldn’t end up like her mother, stuck in the same neighborhood she was raised in. Comfortable with nothing and too afraid to feed on any inner ambition. 

        But also because the wanna-be men in her life weren’t looking for a partner but a replacement for their mother.

        And while Diamond was content by herself with friends, she still hoped to live out that first love fantasy in time.

        “Oh, Diamond! Kimi! You’re back already.” With a gasp, Renesmee placed the half-eaten hotdog back on the plate and tried to pull free from Jacob but his arms kept her secure against his broad chest.

        She slapped his arms, but it didn’t stop his tongue from grazing up her neck and reaching her earlobe. Her cheeks burned bright red as he muttered something that only she could hear unless it was the fire casting its glow.

        Kimi gagged as if she heard him. “You guys are disgusting.”

        “Jacob!” Renesmee giggled, hitting him again. “You’re so—let me go! We’re in company.”

        “They don’t mind.” He said while kissing along the rim of her ear. Renesmee rolled her eyes, yet didn’t stop him this time.

        “I mind. Plus you reek of outside!”

        “You never minded it.”

        Renesmee said nothing, proving his point.

        Kimi looked past the couple and stood straight when someone or something caught her attention. “Hi, Edward!” She greeted the mass of people with a wave Diamond was unable to pinpoint. 

        Jacob immediately ripped himself off Renesmee and composed himself into a respectable man any woman would bring home to meet her family. No longer the horny man whispering nonsense in his girlfriend’s ear, who also pushed herself from her boyfriend. The quick action caused the hotdog to slip off the paper plate. She adjusted her bikini top before pushing her voluminous hair over her shoulders to cover her chest. 

        Kimi’s face deepened a dark color of red, her lips pressed tight and her cheeks were inflated with air as she struggled to contain her laughter. It was then when the couple looked back to nothing that she couldn’t hold it anymore and laughed in their faces.

        Jacob kissed his teeth while pushing back his short dark hair. “You play too damn much. He’s not even allowed on our land without permission.”

        “Yet you still fell for you.” Kimi hugged her stomach, laughing still. Jacob jumped at her and she flinched, but it didn’t stop her laughter.

        “Edward?” Diamond questioned while slipping on her jacket. The name sounded familiar but couldn’t be sure since her roommate talked about people often when Diamond’s just getting back from practice so their names mush together.

        “My d—my cousin. You’ve met him before, remember? Tall and moody with bright eyes.” Renesmee knelt to pick up the sandy hotdog and placed it on the plate which Jacob took from her to toss out. 

        “Ah right.”

        Diamond did remember her cousin, Edward. He visited every once in a while with his wife, Bella. They often took Renesmee out on weekly dinners that would last for hours or even days and had her coming back to the dorm at odd hours. They were nice and welcoming and Edward even once guessed a thought on Diamond’s mind before she said it. 

        Though it’s strange because while they weren’t Renesmee’s parents, whom she had never met, as young as they were, their interactions were far from cousins and more parental. Their appearances alone were uncanny especially when compared to Bella. The two of them were constantly hitting her line. 

        “Jacob, you remember Diamond?” Renesmee changed the subject when Jacob returned with another hotdog.

        He extended his hand toward Diamond which she took. “The roommate, of course. We always meet in awkward situations.”

        “We do.” Oftentimes when the couple were engaging in sexual activities. Renesmee forgets to give Diamond a heads up or put something on the door, which sucked on days when she couldn’t wait to rot in bed after studies.

        “We should change that. I hear so much about you from Nessy, I feel we’re already the best of friends.” It came out as a tease directed to his girlfriend who didn’t mind him. Her attention was fixated on their surroundings, scanning the crowd as if searching for danger. 

        “Likewise and we should.” Diamond agreed. Her reply sounded as awkward as it was. Jacob wasn’t a stranger in a sense but they weren’t close on any level and their only connection was Renesmee.

        “Anyway, I’m glad you could make it. Tonight will be a festive of activities so don’t be afraid to step outside your comfort zone and let loose.”

        Diamond was starting to look forward to tonight aside from whatever the future held. The alcohol kept her warm as well as the bonfire they stood by, feeling herself loosen up. She needed a break from her usual routine—fresh air.

        “Why you’re back so early from patrol?” Kimi asked out of nowhere and Diamond felt their eyes on her for reasons she didn’t care to analyze. 

        Her attention was captured by a fifteen year old girl playing in the water with a boy who looked around her age, possibly a bit older. He would howl like a wolf and beat his chest like a monkey, his short curly hair gone with the wind with his tattoo—just like Jacob—on display. The girl covered her face in embarrassment and splashed water on him with her other hand, causing him to rush after her. 

        They weren’t the only cute couple in the mix of locals and drunk college students, existing as if only they existed. Jacob and this guy weren’t the only ones showing off this particular tribal tattoo, though it seemed those with it were occupied by a romantic partner. It was like it was an initiation before getting into a relationship.

        Jacob ran a hand through his short hair, a stressful sigh filling his lungs as he spoke. “Something’s wrong with Seth.” At this, Kimi panicked and bombarded Jacob with hordes of questions that he had to lift his hand to quiet her so he could continue. “Seth’s fine. He’s as healthy as the rest of us, but we had to cut patrolling short because he needed to come back.”

         “Why?” Kimi inquired and Jacob shrugged.

        “Who the fuck knows. It’s Seth. His mind was distracted and the p—” A quick look in Diamond’s direction was noted. “—the group struggled to concentrate, so I allowed him to return. But I got worried and followed behind to check on him and ensure he hadn’t knocked his head somewhere. He’s acting stranger than usual.”

        So were they, but Diamond didn’t question anything outwardly.

        Kimi sighed with relief upon hearing this. “That’s Seth for you. My cousin’s always been a little weird since I can remember. He’s probably hungry.” She chuckled and everyone but Diamond, who didn’t know this person or what he was like, agreed. 

        “Probably so, it sounds like him for sure. But if Seth is in any kind of trouble I’ll be the first to know, so don’t go alerting Sue or your sister Emily yet.” Jacob pulled Renesmee closer to his side with an arm around her waist. She molded against him, a perfect fit. They were like magnets; unable to go a moment without physical contact.

        Kimi tilted back her head to drink the rest of her bottle, only to quickly realize it was emptied. “I need another well-deserved drink after breaking my track record by nine seconds. Diamond, let’s leave these lovebirds to their disgusting conversation.”

        Renesmee playfully rolled her eyes. “Our conversation is pretty tamed compared to others.”

        “Yes, and I’m never free from them when we’re together.”

        Diamond did agree to go with Kimi for another drink, leaving Renesmee behind with her boyfriend who wanted her to remain close. She was in need of another drink, unable to put down the seagrams, and in need of food—something to snack on since Mrs. Devgn’s cooking hit the spot. There were more leftovers, tied in a plastic bag shoved in her purse that hung heavy on her shoulder. 

        Opting for two little bags of chips, Renesmee was overheard telling Jacob something he needed to know regarding Seth. But instead of outright telling him with words, Diamond watched as her hand caressed his muscular arm in a prolonged manner, starting from his wrist. No words were exchanged the entire time but Jacob’s eyes snapped in Diamond’s direction with shock. She tore away her gaze toward Kimi pouring herself a drink from a questionable clothed bottle. However it was too late since they knew she was watching.

        “Are you sure?” His question carried far, and Diamond could now feel their gazes burning holes through her head. It made her self-conscious for some reason. 

        Like they knew this bathing suit wasn’t a perfect fit, or she’s had way too many seagrams and didn’t save any for everyone else, or there was something on her face no one was telling her about, or something worse. 

        Jacob shook his head with a chuckle. “That explains everything. Sue will faint once she hears of this.” He responded to Renesmee whose voice hadn’t been heard at all.

        But the strangest part—which had nothing to do with Diamond—was how they communicated without words. Spot on as if they were reading each other’s minds. It wasn’t the first she caught her roommate conversing in that manner, and by the looks of it, it wouldn’t be the last. 

        Kimi returned with her red cup filled with a brown-like substance and offered the cup to Diamond. “Wanna sip? This is the real shit you can’t just buy from any local booze store. This batch takes our elders over forty years to brew, traditions that've been passed down for centuries. Could even be called a potion.”

        Diamond took the cup and sniffed it. The strong smell forced her head back and cleared her throat as it burned through her nostrils and down her throat. “What’s in it?” She asked while fighting to control her expression so as not to offend anyone. The smell only caught her off guard.

        “Never asked, never cared.” She shrugged. The hype music had her swaying her hips and mouthing lyrics to the wrong part of the song. “Fair warning though, it’ll have you so fucked up you’ll be dining with Jesus himself.”

        Diamond handed back the cup. “No thanks. I’m not tryna dine with a dead man in a place I’ve never been before with people I’m meeting for the first time. That’s a crime scene waiting to happen.”

        “A sip won’t do much but have you light-headed and warm. Few more sips will have you lightly fucked up, but it’ll all wear off in a few hours or so. No pressure though.”

        Kimi added the last part in case she was coming off too strong. Diamond didn’t feel like being light-headed for a few hours, but her curiosity got the best of her. She also didn’t want to turn down a drink with history behind it that Kimi willingly shared. It was an experience she wouldn’t have again.

        She took the cup and did her best not to smell it while taking a sip bigger than expected. Its bitter taste burned down Diamond’s throat immediately upon contact, forcing her to cough like a mad woman. The alcohol left a strange sweet aftertaste. 

        “What the fuck?” Diamond heaved.

        Kimi took the cup before anything spilled. “Yeah,” she chuckled while rubbing Diamond’s back, agreeing with her reaction. “It gets better after a few times.”

        “I’m barely surviving my first time.”

        “You’re doing better than most.”

        Diamond decided then to stick with her seagrams especially when her environment started tilting. She grabbed onto Kimi’s arm to level herself. She knew what she was getting herself into but didn’t expect one sip to affect her like this. More like she didn’t believe Kimi, which she described as a potion.

        Kimi was looking over Diamond’s shoulder when she squealed right into her ear. “Speak of the Devil, there goes little Seth.” 

        She waved behind Diamond and she turned to see an attractive guy heading toward their direction from what she could make out through her tilting environment. He appeared tall from the distance growing shorter and was one of the few who wore a shirt. A plain sleeveless gray shirt that hung at the side and showcased his tribal tattoo, as well as his well-built figure. Not big and bulky like the rest of the men, neither was he lanky and thin. His curly long hair was tied messily back with loose strands shaping his youthful face, and his russet-colored skin glowed beneath the moonlight.

        He was cute. 

        It didn’t hit Diamond that she was staring him down, unable to look away when their eyes met. Like some weird mystical force refusing her to look elsewhere until she forcefully ripped away her gaze—way too fast that she gripped Kimi’s arm tighter to steady herself from falling over. Fuck this drink was strong.

        Kimi didn’t mind being used as a rest stop since it was her drink she offered. She assured Diamond she was okay and her symptoms were normal, but if something didn’t feel right to alert her immediately. She felt fine for now.

        But when glancing back at the guy, supposedly Seth, chills scorned her arms because he looked at Diamond, as if she was the only woman to exist in his world. His surroundings weren’t of his concern.

        She looked away again. 

        Kimi stepped forward when he was within feet. “Seth, you alright? Jacob told me you weren’t feeling—” She was pushed passed and Diamond knew he was standing directly in front of her.

        “Um…” She stepped back, unsure what this man wanted and why he stopped directly in front of her when his cousin called for him. “Hi? Can I help you?”

        A firm arm slid around Diamond’s back, his hand cupping her chin, brushing his thumb along her glossy lips. Diamond flinched at his heated touch, nearly feverish. He lifted her face to meet his strucken gaze displaying a range of emotions. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, taking in every detail of her face. “I love you already.”

        Diamond opened her mouth to protest but was fed her words when the stranger leaned forward to capture her lips. Her pulse quickened when he took a chance to deepen the kiss further when her lips parted in shock. The kiss didn’t have a consistent rhythm. In truth, it was sloppy, possibly due to Diamond struggling to participate against an eager kisser taking everything for himself. Though she wasn’t one to speak.

        This was her first official kiss. Minus kissing games back in freshman year in high school that were quick and short due to shyness and not having enough players.

        And this stranger stole it. 

        Diamond quickly came to her senses and lifted both her hands—one filled with the bags of chips—and pushed at his broad chest. He was much stronger than he looked, it was like pushing at a rock. He immediately tore himself off once deciphering her attempt.

        “What the fuck is your problem?” There was not one inch of guilt on his face and it pissed her off. 

        So she slapped him. 

        Hard.

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔

𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆

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