#after about a year of listening to almost exclusively fall out boy i have finally given the new green day album my full attention.

[glassofpumpkinjuice]

it turns out that when you're obsessed with a band as a depressed 14 year old you sort of imprint on them like a baby bird in ways you won't fully realize until your mid twenties

[yardsards]

jumping on the bandwagon of making sad grimwalker OCs:

just writing bc my brain has decided we are not in an art type of mood. strap in because this is about to get DARK [tw for mentions of abuse, suicide, and child death]

this takes place probably about 100ish years pre-canon? like, around a time belos hasn't been universally accepted as emperor but he's got a lot of the castle built and he's kinda set up the precursor to the current coven system and a lot of people are listening to him.

this grimwalker's name was simon, which means "one who listens"

belos was proud of himself for choosing such an apt name, the boy turned out to be extremely obedient, never needing to be told anything twice, rarely asking questions, a perfect follower. belos was almost hopeful that this one might finally be the one to turn out right, that he might not "have to" kill this one for betraying him. but a part of him was almost upset that he might never get to kill this one, to make him suffer the punishment of caleb's sins.

(this one looked a good bit like caleb, too. not quite as identical as hunter, but probably in the top 5. he was a bit taller and thinner, and his hair was a bit more straight and manageable. he, unlike caleb and hunter, COULD get that little forelock smoothed back, but he noticed belos didn't like that, so he always made sure to leave it loose. (maybe he even took to wearing a concealment stone and subtly tweaking his features in accordance to what seemed to make belos happiest, ending up looking REALLY like caleb) and while he wasn't completely free of scars, his face was somewhat unscathed compared to many other grimwalkers)

unfortunately for belos, obedience was not the only reason simon's name fit; simon was a kikimora level eavesdropper- perhaps even worse. he spied on belos, coven members, townsfolk- anyone he came across really. in his limited free time, when he wasn't being nosy, he got good at oracle and illusion magic, which only made him better at listening in on people. he probably didn't learn 100% of the story, but he learned of the other grimwalkers and he learned of belos's evil intentions

he'd listened to belos so much, which meant he learned manipulation from watching the master. so no one noticed when he went from actual eager obedience to following orders just to avoid suspicion and trouble. no one noticed the shift from listening to the emperor at all times because he looked up to him to listening to the emperor at all times to glean any piece of intel he could get against the man. no one noticed when he went from exclusively spying on and manipulating the emperor's enemies to spying on and manipulating the emperor himself.

simon was never the valliant type, never the type to directly rebel or speak against belos. but sometimes there would be warnings given to those the emperor planned to attack, or anti-emperor sentiments and coven secrets passed around. these would come in the form of words scrawled on the walls of back alleys or notebooks left in conspicuous locations or hushed words from a stranger (always with a different appearance but always with a fake-sounding voice and the nigh-imperceptible shimmer of illusion magic.)

every once in a while, word would make it back to belos that someone was warning the townsfolk. some random underling of his would end up being blamed and getting killed. simon would never confess, never let himself show even the slightest bit of guilt. he let others take the fall, telling himself it was for the greater good that he never get caught. (he was ultimately on the side of good, but his morals could be very dubious at times. and i feel like half of his reason for rebelling was just to spite belos rather than out of moral goodness). after each execution, he'd wait a few months before trying again and change up tactics, to make it seem like it was a whole new rebel causing issues.

this couldn't last forever, though. he lived to his 30s, (pretty old for a grimwalker, all things considered) before belos figured out what was happening. simon heard that belos found out and that he was doomed. by the time he heard, he knew he had barely an hour left to live. he considered going out with a bang, recklessly spreading word of belos's evil, but he knew that wouldn't do much. even if he could get out of the castle to do it, belos would just paint him as insane or evil, making his final act be in vain. he spent his final hour in his room, preparing. he left three things behind:

1: his corpse, lying on the floor. dagger thrust into his chest by his own hand. blood staining his usually pristine uniform and mask.

2: a note in his other hand, simply reading "i refuse to let you have the satisfaction of killing me yourself."

3: a compilation of all the notes he'd taken over the years. the truth about belos and the grimwalkers. how he lied to and spied on belos without getting caught. one final letter to the next grimwalker he'd written right then, telling his story, saying he was sorry, and wishing good luck. this was tucked in some secret place, perhaps under a floorboard or in a hole drilled into the bottom of a bedpost. hopefully the next boy to live in that room would find it.

the next grimwalker would never get the chance to find that note.

belos had started growing him when he first began to suspect simon's treachery but wasn't yet certain. his name was originally going to be isaac, after the biblical figure (a boy whose father was willing to kill him to prove his loyalty to god)

but that night, after simon's death, belos dug isaac up. it was too early, far too early; the boy was just a toddler, looking up at his uncle with wide innocent eyes and reaching up with his pudgy hands, hands too small to have dug himself out without help

instead of calling isaac by his name, belos called him "simon", swaddling the boy's tiny body in a bloodstained cloak, putting a too-big mask on his little head, covering up his young face. and lying the swaddled child gently on the ground.

and then stabbing the little boy right through the chest, where simon had stabbed himself.

the grimwalker after isaac would never find the notes either, just by luck of never stumbling across them.

the first grimwalker to find the notes would be a teen, having small doubts but trusting his uncle. after learning the truth, he carefully re-hid the notes and attempted to flee. he felt too young, too weak to do anything to fight against belos, but he hoped he could at least survive. he did not. in a way, instead of saving him, the notes lead him to an early demise; he was caught fleeing and killed. he didn't even bother lying about the fact that he was running away, too scared to think straight.

the second had made it to adulthood, already strongly doubting belos, when he found the notes. he used simon's advice for sneaky rebellion and saved some people, but was soon caught and killed. belos had wizened up to simon's old tactics, it seemed.

the third was quite young, with full loyalty to belos. he turned the notebook in to his uncle, believing it to just be slander, hoping to be rewarded for helping to expose whoever this "simon" guy was for lying and treason. the notebook was destroyed and the loyal boy was killed anyway.

[watchmegetobsessed]

ANOTHER TITLE

a/n: personally i’ve been waiting for this part to come since the beginning lmao, so here is the proposal finally!! it’s like so fluffy, almost disgustingly, but i just couldn’t help myself

pairing: Sebastian Stan X Reader

word count: 1.8k

This fic is part of the LITTLE ONE series, but can be read as a simple oneshot as well! Find the masterpost of the series HERE!

masterlist

(gif is not mine)

You’ve been eating like a hormonal teenage boy these past weeks and you know it needs to stop and held under control, but you just can’t help yourself. It’s like your stomach has become a black hole that needs to absorb any and every food that’s home, you’re constantly snacking beside the large portions you eat three times a day, there’s always something you’re craving, the shopping list on the fridge is changing every hour because you think of something else to eat.

Luckily, you haven’t gained that much weight besides the noticeable bump that’s your baby in your belly, seems like your little girl does need all the food and she uses it instead of letting it all get stuck on other parts of your body, so you’re fine for just now.

Sitting on the couch, watching some kind of soap opera, you’re snacking on an entire jar of Nutella this time, shamelessly stuffing your mouth with the sweet, thick stuff, pretty sure that nothing will be left of it by the end of the day. Sebastian is away again for his second filming that was scheduled even before you found out you were pregnant and he messed around with it a little, shortening it once again and you just visited him last weekend. Now that you are pushing the end of your second trimester, your bump is quite evident, not something you can hide easily, so when you showed up on set with your boyfriend, you didn’t even try to cover it up, knowing well someone would spot it sooner or later. However everyone on the team has been so respectful, keeping the news to themselves, because no headlines have been made about your pregnancy just yet, keeping the secret even longer. To be honest, you’re surprised it hasn’t been discovered sooner, you thoughr someone would catch you out and about and see right through your baggy clothes and sell the news to the tabloids, but now you are in the sixth month and no one knows a thing.

Your phone chimes next to you, a text from Seb and you hum to yourself happily, putting the jar aside to grab the phone and see what he wrote.

“How are my two favorite girls doing? Miss you a lot!”

He even attached a silly selfie of himself in hair and makeup, he looks adorable with the clips in his hair and some kind of patches under his eyes. Like a real beauty guru.

Grabbing the Nutella, you place it on top of your bump as you move the phone to a lower angle and take a selfie that makes your bump look even bigger, the jar on top and you grinning widely at the camera as you snap a picture and send it to him with your reply.

“Enjoying our third snack of the day at 11 am! Miss you too, can’t wait to see you next week!”

He reads the message right away, his reply coming just seconds later.

“Look at that bump! You look gorgeous, baby! Can’t wait to see you too, have fun with your sister today, love you lots Xx”

Since he has left you’ve been trying to keep yourself busy so you don’t miss him too much and you’re also using these weeks to spend as much time with your friends and family as possible, knowing well once the baby arrives you won’t be going out that much for a while, nestled up in your home, learning the ropes of being a mother. Today you are meeting up with your sister, she is taking you out to this alleged new, quite fancy restaurant you haven’t heard about before. She claimed that it’s really exclusive, so you don’t have to worry about being photographed or bothered, but she also told you to glam yourself up for the occasion. It’s gonna be some nice sister time, something you haven’t been able to do in a long time.

You take the assignment seriously, doing your hair and makeup the best you can and you decide to put on a flowy maxi dress with a soft, knitted cardigan, very much going for a kind of cottage core vibe. Leaving just in time you text your sister that you’re on your way, putting the address into the GPS and heading out of town, because the place is near the beach. She texts you back that she’ll meet you there and so your short little road trip begins. Sitting in the car you’re listening to one of the many playlists Sebastian has made for you and the baby, he likes to play them at home, humming the songs under his breath, hoping to start educating your little girl in the field of music as early as possible. You have to admit he has a good taste, so you don’t mind it at all.

As you follow the instructions of the GPS you find the place that’s supposed to be your destination, but it doesn’t seem like a restaurant at all, more like a mansion of some kind, a very expensive looking if you are being honest. There are no other cars, no sign of other people so as you park at the front you call your sister.

“Hey, I’m right outside, but I have a feeling I’m at the wrong place? It doesn’t look like a restaurant.”

“Oh, don’t worry! You’re at the right place! I’m a little late, but I’ll be there soon, just go inside, they are expecting us!” she assures you, but you’re still not convinced.

Ending the call you approach the entrance and for your surprise the heavy doors open before you could even knock or find the bell. A man in a tuxedo appears in front of you, smiling warmly at you.

“Miss Y/L/N?”

“Uh, yeah,” you nod, a little shy and confused.

“Please, follow me,” prompts as you walk inside and the two of you start crossing the grandiose hall of the building.

At this point you are sure it’s not a restaurant, but you have no idea why your sister wanted you to come here. You want to ask the man if you’re even at the right place, but he called you by your name so he was expecting you, this has to be the place where you’re supposed to be. More and more questions pile up in your head as you follow him out to the backyard, a gigantic, flower-filled garden that’s straight out of a fairytale, a path leading down to the beach where there’s a dreamy little pergola with even more flowers and fairy lights and as your eyes fall on the figure standing in the middle of the pergola, you immediately gasp.

Because surrounded with all the flowers and lights, there is Sebastian standing in an elegant suit, smiling widely at you as the man next to you helps you down the stairs before you start walking down the path to him.

Tears are flooding your eyes, because you already know what it is, but you can’t believe it’s really happening. He was so sneaky, he got home from filming earlier and even made your sister play along to surprise you, he is such a romantic soul, no one can change your mind about that!

“You’re not in Atlanta!” you tell him when he is finally close enough to hear you. He chuckles sweetly, taking a few steps forward to meet you sooner, his hands finding your waist as you cup his face in your hands, pulling him down to kiss you right away.

“No, I’m not, baby,” he smirks, his hands sliding to your belly, gently stroking the sides as you wipe your tears away, but there’s no use, because the next moment, he steps back a little, just enough so that he can get down on one knee and you’re crying again when you see him pull out a little velvety box from his pocket.

You were expecting it. You knew he would propose before the baby arrives, but you just didn’t know when and how, but he surely outdone himself with his little surprise.

“My Love, Y/N,” he starts after a deep breath, his hands finding yours and you can feel the shaking, but you’re not sure if it’s coming from yours or his. Probably both. “I’ve spent the best years of my life with you and I haven’t been the same man since the day I met you, but in the best way possible. You are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met and I’m so lucky that you did not only choose to be with me, but you are now carrying our baby under your heart as well, out little one who is equal parts of you and me, though you’re doing ninety percent of the job here,” he adds with a chuckle, making you laugh through your tears. “I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you the moment you were so badass on your first date, kissing me when I didn’t have the balls to do the first step, but I’m glad you did. I fell in love with you right then and there and the same thing has been happening every day, over and over again since then. I know we went a little out of order with everything we had planned,” he smirks, glancing down at your bump before his blue eyes find yours again, “but that doesn’t change the fact that I want to spend the rest of my life with you, so I have a question for you.”

He pops the lid of the box open, a gorgeous, brilliant diamond ring coming to your vision, sparkling in the warm afternoon Sun so perfectly, it takes your breath away.

“Y/N Y/L/N, will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?” he asks, clearly nervous, even though there’s no doubt about your answer, you’ve told him plenty of times before that you want to marry him, but still, it’s a huge moment in both your lives.

“Yes, yes, yes!” you nod eagerly as you both start laughing in relief, his shaky fingers tagging the ring out of the box and sliding it to your finger gently, before he brings your hand to his mouth and kisses the ring.

Then he finally stands up and you basically throw yourself into his arms, kissing him like your life depends on it as he kisses you back with just as much force.

“I love you and I can’t wait to call you my wife,” he sighs pleased against your lips.

“Mm, another title in the line? Girlfriend, baby mama, fiancé and then wife,” you giggle giddily.

“You missed one,” he cocks an eyebrow at you slyly.

“Which one?”

“Love of my life.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[barzzal]

between halls and thin walls → part two

summary: friends who fool around almost never work. almost.

↳ pairing: mathew barzal x you

↳ warnings: swearing, sex toys, masturbation, sexual/suggestive themes, and yenno, mathew :(

↳ genre: angst, smut, roommates au, best friend’s best friend, friends with benefits, 18+ minors dni*

↳ length: series; part one, part two (5.9k), part three, part four, part five, part six

↳ masterlist: the barn

↳ track: listened to a lot of beyoncé for this one !!

note: part two’s here!! and i know it’s late for an update but i just wanna thank everyone for commenting on the first part 🥺 really glad that you guys liked it. reading your tags are everything to me it means a lot! happy reading <3 (gif used: mine)

You come out of your bedroom dressed and ready for work. Your handbag was slung over the depth of your forearm as you headed for the kitchen and the other, scrolling past emails on your phone, admittedly bracing yourself for the mess you know will eventually greet you.

To your surprise, what you see instead were Mat Barzal’s guns rippling through the jet black sweater he had worn last night. A memory that sent your mind to less than eight hours ago, before eventually landing on what happened shortly when the two of you had woken up.

“Thank god you haven’t burnt the house down.” you kid, placing your handbag atop the island.

Mat spares you a quick glance, rolling his eyes whilst he lets you watch him whisk some eggs for breakfast.

“Like it?” he cocks, pertaining to how your eyes were pinned hard on his biceps that he was, for the most part, effortlessly sporting. It’s true, though. He didn’t need to flex because it was just there.

“Coffee or Juice?” he asks, as the kind friend and roommate that he is. 

Anthony, as surprising as it was, takes incredibly long showers. If people hadn’t known him well, they’d easily think he’s abusing himself there. But you’ve got to admit that not having him around felt nice for you didn’t have to feel so seen with Mathew.

‘Course, there’s nothing more, like a fix-in on the side, to your set up. You just appreciate the feeling of not having to lie to Beau about all the ugly concealed underneath all the innocent gazes you and Mathew exchange.

“Coffee.” you answer shortly, realizing that you forgot the material you need for today’s meeting.

“Where are you going?” Mat asks when he catches you receding out into the hallway. You didn’t bother looking back, “Forgot something!”

He gets back to whisking the eggs when a chime comes off his phone. He takes it from the counter, placed just before the plates he left to dry last night, absent-mindedly putting the bowl he was holding onto the island, toppling over the green juice he has prepared for himself. 

“Shit.” he curses as soon as he sees it for it was already spilling all over the place, making the mess you’ve been secretly anticipating the moment Mathew said he’d make breakfast.

Panicking at how you’d see he’s successfully screwed such a no-brainer task, Mat grabs the first thing he sees on the marbled surface and uses it to clean the mess he’d made.

“Huh.” he muses to himself, realizing that the silk fabric didn’t do much in helping him clean up. He tosses it over the sink carelessly and grabs a few napkin rolls from one of the cupboards. 

So much for making an effort to feed Anthony Beauvillier. 

“Now, that was fast.” you say with a smirk once you’ve entered the kitchen, startling Mathew as he continued cleaning up after his mess. 

“Ha-ha. Very funny.” he sarcastically laughs, discarding the paper towels onto the sink along with the used ones. 

Thankfully, your stuff was at the other side of the island so it was very much safe from all the chaos happening at the other end of the marbled surface. However, your laugh dies down the second you realize that your handkerchief was no longer where you’ve last put it.

“Hey,” you call on Mathew, “What’s up?”

“Have you seen my handkerchief? I know I left it somewhere.” you anxiously ask, eyeing every corner of the room hoping to see Nana’s handkerchief, the one she gave to you on your 18th birthday.

“What does it look like?” Mat asks, now holding a pan in his hand as he prepares breakfast.

You proceeded to describe your grandma’s handkerchief in the most specific and perhaps excruciating detail Mathew has ever heard someone talk about something as mind-numbing as a handkerchief.

Despite that, Mat lights up the moment it hits him, not realizing the bigger mess he’s about to walk into. He rejoices at how he knew exactly what you were looking for, “Oh! You mean this?” 

With clueless eyes, you watch Mat go over the sink after he wipes his hands dry, fishing out an all too familiar fabric from the sink. Once your eyes land onto the cream colored silk handkerchief, with details carefully sewn by hand, drenching in what seems to be Mat’s morning drink, your heart falls to the pit of your stomach. 

“What did you do??” The sudden rise in your voice startles an unsuspecting Mathew. You eagerly went over to his side and hastily snatched the smooth fabric off his hands, “It’s ruined!”

“What? I didn’t know it was yours!” Mat’s eyes are wild with confusion. Puzzled at how you were so fixated on the useless fabric. It didn’t help him anyway. There’s nothing much left to do but to throw it. It’s garbage. 

“You ruined it!” you lash out, letting Mat get eaten up by the sudden anger bubbling inside your guts but he was rather quick in defending himself, “I didn’t know it was yours since I grabbed the first thing I could find. Why are you getting upset over a shit-ass handkerchief?” 

Your mouth falls and you shake your head, finding his defensiveness quite appalling. “You’re an ass.”

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was yours.” he explains, “Come on, it’s just a stupid handkerchief I’ll just buy you a new one.” he tries to laugh the tension off, sporting his signature grin.

Mat take shots of the stunned expression on your face, “Stupid?” you repeat what he said, your eyes already starting to sting with tears. Clearly, you were far too overwhelmed to even acknowledge Mathew’s half-assed apology.

“You’re a fucking asshole.” your words bite and that’s when things took a turn for the worse. 

“I said I was fucking sorry! What the hell do you want from me? Shit a fucking hanky?” he rans a hand through his hair, “Do you realize how childish you’re being right now?”

Outraged, and perhaps disappointed by how he was too high up his horse, your voice takes up a higher tone, entering what seems to be an early screaming match between you and Mathew.

“Could you just–” you breathe, “for one second– stop being so goddamn stupid and get over yourself!?” were words that welcomed Anthony the moment he stepped into the kitchen, towel wrapped around his waist, a grin on his face visible as he poured himself a glass of water, inviting himself in the screaming match you and Mathew have exclusively put forth for him.

“Stupid is not when you’ve already apologized a hundred times! Stupid is being such a crybaby and a bitch about it!” Mathew retorts, gaining his better end of the argument.

“What a beautiful morning, isn’t it?” Anthony chimes in, a hand resting on his chin, adoring his two best friends upon getting used to the best worst duo he’s ever known in his life. 

“Shut up, Beau.” you say, throwing him a glare.

“Well, beautiful is definitely not in Y/N’s dictionary.” Mathew chides with a smirk, enough to earn himself a scoff from you. 

“You know what? I don’t have the time for this bullshit.” you cuss, finally retreating, your already heavy heart taking a better hold on your thoughts, blocking your ability to even come up with a clever remark to come back at Mathew.

You throw the delicate, yet already ruined piece of fabric towards his way as hard as you could before marching out of the kitchen and head off for work.

“Fucking unbelievable.” Mathew curses under his breath once he catches the silk linen, shaking his head as he turns his attention back to the morning task at hand. 

You were fucking unbelievable.

Once the boys were left alone, Tito raises a brow, briefly looking back after your footsteps, “What happened here, anyway?” he asks, having realized what must’ve caused such a heated argument so early in the morning. 

“I used this handkerchief to wipe the whole thing off and she just went ape shit! I mean–” Anthony cuts Mathew the moment he recognizes the thin cloth he was holding.

“Woah, woah. Wait a minute, you used this?” he muses, stressing on the possibility of what might have been Mathew’s biggest mistake of the day, his eyes darting between him and the fabric.

With furrowed brows, admittedly weirded by how Anthony reacted almost the same way you did a while ago. “It’s just a handkerchief, man. I can go buy her a bunch if that’s what she wants.” he says defensively.

Anthony shakes his head wildly, his irises now dilated as he examined the stain already sitting on the material. “No no. Oh god no.” He says, snatching Mathew’s phone from the counter to google quick remedies that might remove the said stain from the already ruined cloth. 

“What do you mean no? You guys spend way too much time together, you’re beginning to be as weird as her.” He scoffs, sipping on a glass of water. 

“No, you dumbass. This was her grandma’s!” Anthony says, eyes fixated on the delicate handkerchief. Remembering how you’d told him how long it has been in your family that having Nana give it to you after all the years you’ve spent admiring it from afar meant so much to you than anything anyone could have possibly given you.

“So?” Mat casually replies, closing his arms to his chest before adding, “Is she dead or something? Didn’t you guys visit her for the Holidays?” 

“What?? Why would you even say that?– You’re such a jerk.” Tito shakes his head, appalled by how Mathew easily shrugged the matter off when he knew full well how sentimental he himself could be.

“Well, how am I supposed to know?? If that thing’s so important I wouldn’t leave it on top of some random shit lying around!” He counters, defending himself for reaching for the nearest cloth he could find when he did whatever he does best when he’s in the kitchen.

Tito clicks his tongue and looks at Mathew exasperatedly, “Tell me, where did you find this exactly?”, to which Mathew only answered with a quiet voice, “It may or may not have been placed on top of her purse…” he avoids Tito’s gaze, finally catching on how he was the one in the wrong. 

“See? Jerk. Now, go figure out how you’ll take the stain off.” Anthony demands, his voice embraced by a definitive tone. One that made Mathew know he wouldn’t be able to persuade him into letting this go. 

Tito takes one good look at Mat’s catastrophic attempt to feed the house, striding his way out of the kitchen, “And make sure you apologize!” he adds, footsteps receding into the hallway, leaving Mathew scratching the back of his head out of guilt and frustration.

You have spent the following days either avoiding Mathew or ignoring his existence completely. Anthony talked to you the night that incident happened and assured you that he would do his best to have it fixed. You didn’t want to bother him nor take time off his already busy schedule, but you were just so bummed to even say a word.

That night, you spent the entire evening in your room, facetiming your mother, saying how much you’re missing home. You can’t bring yourself to tell her about the handkerchief. For some people, and that people being Mathew, it might’ve been just some silly thing but Tito knew how much that small piece of cloth meant to you. 

Mathew, on the one hand, was for sure guilty to his bones. He didn’t see you that night nor the nights that followed. He didn’t think much of it but when he found himself searching for that same handkerchief in the hopes of replacing it only to find out that it was nowhere to be found in the market, was when he did realize that ruining the one thing that held you closer to home was the last push your non-existent relationship with him had to have for you to finally lose any ounce of amour nor civility you once had for him. 

Anthony wasn’t a stranger for said changes either. He began waking up to a still apartment enveloped by a wall you profusely built between you and Mathew. You even unknowingly shut Tito out in the process as well. It was like you were grieving. Like, it was a whole different kind of heartbreak he knew he can’t get you out of that easily. 

You tried making it up for your best friend of course. Knowing that you haven’t been yourself since that day. You thought about the possibility of having taken the whole thing too seriously that you might’ve overreacted a bit. Nonetheless, no matter how much you try to push it in the back of your head, Mathew’s mere presence began irking you in ways it never did back when you used to enjoy the bickering you exchange with him, especially in bed.

“Thanks for dinner, belle.” Anthony politely says, earning a smile from you so effortlessly upon hearing the pet name he uses for you. Something Mat only shrugged off, trying to piece out the same gratitude, “Thanks, y/n.” he genuinely adds. But as expected, he had nothing.

You pick up all the empty plates, including Mathew’s, who was sitting in front of you while Anthony sat at the end of the table. Tito hurriedly wipes his mouth with a napkin and takes the plate from you, “Let me help you with that.” he says with the same kind eyes that has never failed to win you over. 

“Yeah. Okay, sure.” you shortly answer, leading the way towards the kitchen, leaving one Mathew Barzal feeling small and alone at the dining table. 

𖥸

If there was one thing you’d gladly acknowledge after all the years of watching people kiss Mathew’s ass was that he was is really good. He’s fast and he can do unimaginable damage on the ice. There’s no denying that he deserves to be the face of the New York Islanders. But we know you don’t care about any of that. The only thing you care about was how unbelievably good he is at everything he does that not even you or your pink rubber toy could suffice. 

He was just that damn good. 

As your eyes shut whilst you mount your pleasures on your own, biting your lips to choke in your own moans, Mathew handling you was what circled your mind since you started defiling yourself in the bathroom. You let your arousal be washed away by the warm water trickling down your skin, envisioning Mat’s rough hands grazing your body, touching your core like his hands were meant to do nothing else but that. 

It was wrong and pathetic, but you couldn’t think about anything else. You and Mathew have been avoiding each other for days. The dynamic went so much worse than when you weren’t sleeping together and you know that Tito was bound to notice it soon. Thankfully, the boys were on another roadie for a week so you had quite some time to think things through about your current sitch with Mathew. You didn’t like any of it because it felt like you gave a fuck (which obviously, you didn’t). You just feel obligated to sort things out with the biggest ass that ever lived because you didn’t want to involve Tito into the mess you’ve wrongfully made yourself. 

You hop off the shower feeling unsatisfied. You haven’t gotten laid since the last time you were with Mat. Which is sad, not just for you but also for her. You’d think considering the boys aren’t around you’d bring someone home, maybe even one or two. But just thinking about going on bars alone so you could find a potential bone-mate is already far too tedious and you weren’t in the right state to do so. You had so much going on at work, anyway. And you can always use a wand to scratch an itch. Neither would satisfy you more than how someone-who-will-not-be-named could, but you might as well be pathetic without having to hook up with some random dude whose name you’ll eventually forget in the morning. 

You opted to wear an old pull-over you borrowed (took) from Tito years and years ago and partnered it with some leggings so you’d be comfortable enough for the rest of the night. You have nothing else to do and you are already fed up with your workload that watching a crappy movie off of Netflix doesn’t sound like a bad idea. 

With a giant bowl of popcorn and two bottles of beer in your hands, you march your way into the living room, ready to spend the night binge watching romantic comedies, crying and laughing in between. Or maybe just fall asleep on the couch while your comfort TV series is on. 

The boys won three games out of the four that they had during the trip and you only saw the ones they won so you were thankful that you didn’t have to sit at home alone watching their faces fall after that OT lost against the Flyers. Anthony phoned you that night and you can just feel the relief in his voice that you didn’t have the time to see it. They weren’t playing like they should. Thankfully, they were able to bounce back. 

Your eyes were beginning to grow tired halfway into the movie when you hear the front door open, followed by luggages dragged into the house tirelessly. 

“Y/N?” Anthony calls out.

You hit the movie on pause and hurriedly make your way towards the hallway. “You’re home already?”

They were already taking their coats off when you met them halfway, Tito was putting his away while Mat had just taken off his toque and was running his hands through his hair, unconsciously meeting your eyes upon hearing your voice. 

You quickly break it off when you give Tito a quick embrace and plant a small kiss on his cheeks, “I texted you.” he says, eyebrows quirked, surprised that you didn’t know. 

In an effort to avert any more of his questions you immediately point towards the movie you had on, “Haven’t checked my messages, sorry.” 

“So, you guys ate dinner?” you ask, passing Mat a quick look. One that came as a surprise because he wasn’t even hoping to hear a word from you given the way you two left things a little too on the edge, screwing with the whole thing even more. 

Mat avoids your irises and faintly nods. 

“Big win tonight huh? Told you, you can do it.” you say with a beaming smile, nudging Tito with your hips as you get back to watching your film. “You gotta do what you gotta do, babe.” he winks, lugging his stuff around towards his bedroom. 

“Barz, don’t stay up, Trotz needs us first thing in the morning.” he looks back, reminding Mat who was already standing in front of his door, “Yeah. Sure.” he replies shortly with a tired voice. 

You and Anthony bid your own goodnights whilst Mat mutters a quiet “Night.” when you nodded his way, clearly not enjoying any of the first awkward encounters he’s yet to have with you. Seven days is quite a reasonable time for your anger to dissipate, a short yet seemingly long period of time that’s just enough to kill off whatever guilt Mat had initially felt before you parted ways.

𖥸

“Alright, I’m off.” Tito casually declares, putting on his watch. “There’s food in the fridge, and tell Mat to go easy on my beers.” he gives you a knowing look as he bends down to give you a kiss on the cheek. 

Tito had been seeing some mystery girl for quite some time now. He hasn’t told you anything spicy in particular but by the looks of it, you could already tell that she has him towed. 

“Good luck, loverboy.” you say, swatting his hand away and pushing him out to the door. The two of you cringe at what you said, sharing one last laugh before you watch him disappear out into the hallway.

The apartment was cramped the whole day because Anthony and Mat had the day off. Tito had plans for the night, obviously. As per you, you had plans lounging in the living room, switching through channels in the hopes of stumbling on a show that isn’t half as bad than the rest. 

Thankfully, a Sandra Bullock film was on HBO.

The Proposal, to be exact.

You decide to dive in the film with a cold bottle of beer on your hand. There was no way you’d be washing down the effects of a naked Ryan Reynolds with a glass of water. You haven’t gone mad. 

The film was already at the part where Sandra was proposing to Ryan when you hear Mathew’s door open. You haven’t talked since the night they came back home other than the small nods you exchange upon passing by each other. All of which are mind-numbing and impossible to swallow. The awkwardness has not dissipated completely unlike what you presumed. You were just grateful Tito was always around that you didn’t need to be alone together. 

Alarmed by another impending awkward encounter, you clear your throat and turn up the volume a little to remain focused on the film, investing your sole attention to it even if you have seen the movie countless times. 

Mathew, in his sweats and a gray shirt on, carefully makes his way out the hallway and into the common area after snatching a glass of water from the kitchen. You see him move further into the room but you make sure that he knows you weren’t paying attention. You take that he must’ve been thirsty and needed a drink but you don’t see him move further in the corner of your eye like he was making his way back in his room. It almost seemed like he was actually waiting for you to look his way.

Hesitantly, you follow your gut feel and see him standing a few feet away from you. “Yes?” you ask when you catch him staring. 

Mat blinks a few times, “Hi.” he takes a deep breath, trying to shake off the awkwardness circling the two of you.

When the only thing he gets from you is a tight lipped smile, he shakes his head and proceeds to walk where you were seated. 

“Mind if I join you?” he asks, his voice deep and clear enough to send your mind elsewhere. 

Regardless, you contain yourself and return a polite smile, “No. Not at all.”

“So, what are we watching?” he sits once you gestured onto the other end of the couch. 

“The Proposal.” you answer before throwing a question yourself, “Aren’t you supposed to be resting now?” you shake your head, absentmindedly chuckling. Not intending to make him feel that you’ve forgotten about what he’d done weeks ago. 

“I couldn’t sleep.” he props his back and lets himself sink in the cloud couch, his legs spread wide eating up most of the space left for the two of you to share. “Oh. I only like him when he’s Deadpool” he points out, cringing at how you were watching another one of your romantic comedy films.

You roll your eyes, admiring how he’s trying to break the tension between the two of you despite his unsolicited sentiments, “I like it when we were on not-speaking terms.” 

Mat mocks you for a while but decides to watch the movie so you let him be and get back to the film, letting a giggle slip every now and then. Something you thought Mat wouldn’t notice.

Watching the remainder of the film went with ease. ‘Course, Mat would steal a few glances here and there (ones he thought had gone unnoticed), but overall the quietude between the two of you was bearable. Almost like it was just two buddies hanging out. 

Although, not long after, your eyes were torn away from the huge flat screen when Mat spoke, “By the way,” he looks at you and calls your attention. 

Puzzled, you watch him take something from his pocket, “Here.” 

Once you see what he has in his hands your heart froze. Mat carefully hands you the cloth with an apologetic smile; his eyes soft with a hint of hope as he watches your reaction. 

“What– How?” you ask in bewilderment, failing to comprehend how he was able to fix the handkerchief. It looked the same as before. All of its details were in place, it was good as new. You were holding Nana’s handkerchief. 

Mathew didn’t bother to dance around and just offered you a quiet chuckle, evidently enjoying the wide smile painted on your lips. “Don’t worry about it. I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.” he apologizes, shielding you from all the strings he had to pull just to get that cloth fixed up.

You hold the smooth and delicate piece in your hands as you look at Mat, letting your feelings get a better hold of you, “Thank you.” you say, unknowingly reaching out, your arms wrapped around his neck as you give him a quick peck on the cheek. 

Mathew’s hand instinctively finds your back to support you, startling himself in the process. Nonetheless, the thought was easily shrugged off by how close your faces were, your smiles fading once you meet each other’s gaze. You feel the same rush you felt the night you and Mat got involved for the first time. Your hand was placed rather endearingly on his cheek, your faces, just like all the other times, unreasonably close to each other. Mat then clears his throat and only looks you in the eye. 

Afraid that the innocent hug would lead to something more, perhaps another mistake to be jotted down on the board, you breathe a laugh and break away, “Uh, thanks again. It really means a lot.” 

Mat must’ve sensed that you were being cautious so he puts his guards up and returns a chuckle, “So… we good?” he asks, reaching out a hand your way. 

Your fingers slide into his, gliding its way perfectly, your hands fitted well with his despite the obvious difference in proportion. His grip tightens in the most comfortable way possible. 

A smile breaks off his lips once he hears you answer, “We’re good.”

“I should probably get some sleep.” Mat tells you the moment you pull your hand away.

“Are you gonna be okay here?” he adds.

You looked at him, not wanting him to be obligated to keep you company, “Oh, yeah. I’m a big girl.” you say, making Mathew grin, shaking his head.

“Alright. I’ll be in my room if you need anything.”

Not picking up on whatever sloppy insinuation Mat has thrown out carelessly into thin air, he hears a simple “Mkay.” 

Thus far, letting him know that his subtle invitation was far from being RSVP’d.

𖥸

“You’ll be in your room?” Mat scoffs, staring at the ceiling while he lays on his bed, “The fuck was that, Mat?” he scolds himself for always coming up with the worst things to say. 

Mathew would be lying if he’d say he hasn’t thought about you (or doing you) for the past week of not being around home. But he definitely wouldn’t deny that the roadie kind of made things easier for him because then he didn’t have to stomach seeing you walk around the flat looking like the hot piece of ass that you were in his eyes. 

Mat knows he needs to pull his shit together. He wasn’t some 13 year-old boy raging with hormones. He needs to control himself around you and he could only do that once he learns how to push this whole thing between the two of you behind him. 

What happened with you and Mathew shouldn’t have happened at all. It was just a moment of weakness, and he hated that he’d let his dick (and apparently, him being one) ruin the relationship he once had with you. 

Before that night, seeing you do yoga and work out on the terrace was just seeing you drenched in sweat, and in your work out clothes looking icky and constipated. Something he’ll later on tease you about and he’ll end up catching the water bottle you throw in his face. But now, after all that fucking, seeing you sweaty and all worked out in the same yoga pants is just like walking into a porn commercial. Like the ones they show before the actual porn. In fact, he doesn’t even have to watch any of it. Tents and Boners were pretty much sponsored by you from then on. It’s sick, and he knows it. 

However, the tension he feels with you is palpable that he’s even certain that you feel it too. But how can he be wrong? He sees how your eyes blink a few times when he’s fresh out the shower, he sees you follow his trance when you thought he wasn’t paying attention, and you never fail to slide him shadowed hints with every touch you “accidentally” pass at him. The kind that’s short enough to remain innocent but not so much as to keep him at bay. Mat hated everything about it. He hated that he wanted you– and he hated that he thinks he might be right about you wanting him too.

All that self-loathing aside, did he regret it? 

That was one of the things he feels bad about. Because as much as he wants to lie and push it aside, he didn’t regret any of it. He didn’t like you that way and just thought about you sexually but he just wishes that you could push past this and just be friends. He was still sexually attracted to you, yes. But he knows he’d eventually get over it and be back on his game. That is if he can ever find someone who’d be as good as how you were the last three times you’ve let him be with you because it would really help him a lot if he could stop picturing your mouth getting stretched by his cock every time he hops into the shower.

Mat was pulled from his thoughts when he heard a knock on his door. The shy banging sound made his heart beat rapidly in an instant, knowing full well that the two of you were alone in the house and that Tito was, in no way, going to be home for another hour or two.

A faint knock follows the first one before he gets to the door. 

“Hi.” you greet him, a moment unfolding like it was déjà-vu.

“Hi.” 

“Did I wake you?” you sheepishly ask, your hands balled into fists before eventually settling down to hug your own build, unsure of where to put your hands exactly.

Mat quickly shakes his head, “No. I couldn’t sleep myself.”

You offer him a smile, acknowledging how he’s been nothing but good to you ever since they got home. Of course you wanted to get your hands on him being that you were completely dry and horny ever since you’ve ignored him completely, but you haven’t gone mad and you weren’t a complete neanderthal. You can keep your hands to yourself and act like a decent human being. 

“I’m sorry for making things weird between us.” you say, your eyes heavy with guilt. “But I’m only apologizing for being so unreasonable for the last couple of weeks.” you reiterated.

To which he only answers with, “You shouldn’t be. You have every right to be unreasonable– and I know that I’ve been a giant prick that day. It’s what I deserve.” he bites his lower lip, scratching his brow as he continues, “That’s why if there’s someone who owes someone an apology, it should be me. What I did was pretty crappy, so… I’m sorry.”

Like all the other times, Mathew towers over you wearing the same confidence he does when you’re around. Your bodies were reasonably apart from each other but close enough to mean something else if someone had walked by. Mathew was still in his room while you were out in the hallway, separated by the thin line made by the door frame. 

You feel Mat’s steady breathing and everything went still. He looks down at you, pretty eyes drowning yours. His messed up bed hair ridiculously makes up for how dressed down he was. No, actually, he looks fine even when he is. And all of that sight instantly makes your throat dry as you feel something curl in your belly, enough to make your hands sweaty as the thought of tasting his lips again cruised your mind entirely.

Mathew was no stranger to the said feeling either. He watched you punish him more at how plump and inviting your lips were. Or how your hand brushed on your clothes as you remain uncomposed under his gaze. 

Mat was becoming accustomed to how the two of you meet. Same time, same place, only this time, a different hallway. He steps further and crosses the line that divides the two of you, making you take a deep breath as his scent floors every nerve in your body. Waking what has been awake ever since that moment you shared back in the living room even more. 

“Yeah, okay.” you gather yourself, “I– I should probably head back.” 

Just by how his shoulders dropped, you knew you had said the wrong thing. And you hated that you did. Mat clears his voice and swallows, breaking off his gaze, “You probably should.” 

“Good night, Mat.” you smile, trying to regain yourself. 

“Good night.” he replies as he watches you turn your back before finally closing the door behind him. 

Frustrated for he was already starting to feel things more than just being “sorry”, Mat leans against the door and runs a hand through his hair. He takes a deep breath and tries to get you out of his head. 

He was about to walk away from the door and sleep off his frustration when he hears your faint footsteps on the other side of the door. He rests his head back on the wooden surface and sighs, “You’re still out there, aren’t you?”

There was a total silence for a moment, devoid of the knowledge of how you had your fist, ready to knock yet again, suspended in mid-air. 

Mathew hears you deny sheepishly, “No.” 

You hear him let out a small laugh, knowing that he was trying to contain himself. 

The door sprung open again, and for a second you thought how what you’re about to walk into will start another mess for you and Mathew. But how could you possibly think about it that way when you have nothing else but this man standing at the other end? 

A friend that took no seconds to waste as he finally lets his thirst and perhaps foolishness, get the better hold of him once he cages your heated face in his hands, crashing into your lips as fast as he’d taken you to his end of that thin gray line that has once irkingly parted him from you. A gray line you’re both willing to cross if that meant sharing another night in between halls and thin walls.

[akaashisupremacy]

Knee Deep in Longing

Summary: Having broken off your engagement for an arranged marriage with Gojo, your relationship is in shreds. As you and Gojo try to pick up the pieces, what does love look like? 

Gojo Satoru  x reader

Multi-fandom Masterlist || HQ Masterlist || Ao3 version

Genre: ANGST, PINING, fluff?? exes to friends to lovers (wc: 1.3k)  

“You don’t want to be seen around me.” you abruptly pull away, visibly hurt, “Look, I know we’re not seeing each other seriously or exclusively, but you don’t have to act like I’m nothing to you.”

After seeing an elder in the jujutsu community in the crowded streets of Tokyo, Gojo Satoru dropped his hand from your waist. He put some distance between your sides while his shoulders tried not to tense.

Being with Gojo is complicated. He’s your ex-fiancee from a marriage arranged by your families. It’s difficult not to resent him after your clan exiled you after you both broke off the arrangement, while Gojo kept his position.

Ten years after all that trouble, you’re both slowly experimenting with romance. Not that it’s going well or anything. It’s a lot of denials, hesitations and resistance to affection.

“It’s not that!” he exclaims defensively.

“So what is it?” your voice rises. Your fists start to clench.

Gojo’s never been good at commitment. He’s handsome and powerful and boy does he know it.

You knew this would happen. If someone you both knew saw the two of you together, Gojo would deny his involvement with you. It’s not a surprise of course, but it still hurts.

He tries to put his arm around you again. You brush him off.

Your temper is extra volatile today.

You’re ready to walk off when he makes a last attempt to explain himself.

“I want to be extremely private about you. No more repeats of our engagement.” he blurts out, “Everybody knew everything about us. They talked when they saw us with anyone outside of each other. They speculated about your dignity when we broke up. They continue to talk about you like an outcast.”

“I felt like I didn’t know you outside of what people thought of you anymore.” he murmurs. “I can't undo my mistakes and I’m trying to keep myself from repeating them. But I’m new to do this and I don’t mean the mistakes I’m making…”

He can see the gears in your mind turning, considering each word that falls from his lips.

“Don’t leave me, please?” he swallows in quiet desperation.

You’re taken aback by his tone. It’s muted, humble and pleading, everything that Gojo is not.

He reaches out both hands to you, with the slightest of tremors.

When you take his hand, he almost sighs loudly in relief.

“I’ll make this up to you. We can make out in the Shibuya crossing—“ he says half seriously.

“It’s ok,” you wave dismissively, “You’re forgiven.”

You squeeze his hand to reassure him. He smiles a bit more.

Exploring your relationship on our own terms outside of your with familial expectations is tough. You both have scars from your past lingering between you. Gojo is right. Mistakes will be made.

You both slow down the pace to enjoy the city, his hand tightly clutches to yours. You stop by Ueno park to view endless paths of cherry blossoms at full bloom. The air is a little crisp yet not too cold for early spring.

Every gust of wind that blows by comes with a gust of cherry blossom petals.

“Our first cherry blossoms,” you murmur.

“I wouldn’t say ‘first’ necessarily,” he chimes in, “We’ve had quite a few strolls under cherry blossom trees when we were younger. Maybe the first without all the resentment.”

He quirks his brow and turns to you.

“What’s that for? I thought you said you’d forgiven me for that?!” you put your hands around your hips. He doesn’t say anything, but he grins widely.

—————————————————————————————

“Do you think dating would be more romantic if we were younger?” you  muse, referring to your earlier outburst, “Dating as adults so boring, it’s a lot of trauma processing and all that jazz.”

After spending the afternoon at the park, Gojo offers to drive you home. The walk along the park was surprisingly romantic and you're still a little high from your time together.

Gojo had his arm around you and you even shared a kiss before the drive back. It fills you with giddiness every time you think back to it.

“No.” he flat out answers.

“Why not?” you turn to him, curious at the swiftness of his reply.

“Because…” he sighs with his eyes trained on the road, “my earlier relationships felt like they were victims of my hormones or circumstances. Like the reason why I was attracted to them was because they were the only people I saw around.”

“I want to see you because I choose to see you…not because there’s no one else.” he adds, “It feels nice to know that you probably have other prospects, but you chose to spend today with me. Just because.”

The hint of vulnerability does not escape you. You uncross your arms.

“All I’m saying is that there’s a loss of innocence and a sense of wonder when we age, y’know?” you shrug, with a small smile.

Gojo finally turns to you.

“Today was kind of dreamy though,” he murmurs, “We’re not 15 anymore, but there’s still a certain magic to life don’t you think?”

You both pause to reflect. The car enters into prime Tokyo traffic, the remnants of your walks now behind you. You glance at the city lights. The day is ending too quickly.

“Now is good,” he adds.

Gojo turns on the music the rest of the drive. You make small talk and flirt here and there. You make a joke, he shoots back, the usual. When you finally reach your apartment, you unbuckle your seatbelt.

“See you around,” you nod.

“I’ll call you.” he replies. You snort. Sure.

“What's with that?!” he exaggerates his aghast expression.

“I will call you.” he insists, “I’ll even call you when I get home.”

You look at him skeptically. Although you and Gojo never formally dated, you knew that he wasn’t great at keeping promises and much less so with calling back.

Today’s adventure was great, but you don’t expect much follow up after that, at least not consistently. He’s more of a sporadic caller if anything.

“Bye,” you sigh, reaching for the door.

He stops you from getting out of the car by grabbing onto your forearm. He leans in for another kiss. This time longer and more passionate than the one you shared. His hands don’t wander, instead he places his hand on yours and interlaces your fingers. His lips are warm and his touch tender.

There was something emotional about his gesture, like a longing that has been shoved aside now fulfilled at last.

When you’re both done, he looks flushed, completely smitten.

“I want you right now.” he whispers in your ear, leaning in again.

Your face momentarily gives away your consideration of his proposition.

You quickly hold up your hand, “Then that should give you more incentive to call.”

You get out of the car hearing his faint snort. He watches you disappear into the darkness.

In less than an hour, your phone rings. You pick it up without looking, unsure whether it was work or Gojo.

“Whats up?” you instinctively answer.

“You told me to call and so I called.” Gojo says.

You stand completely still in your room. He’s silent on the other line, as if waiting for you to pass judgement on him. He actually did it. He actually called you back.

“Are you ok?!” you blurt out, baffled by his follow through.

He lets out a chuckle, “Of course, I’m the best I’ve been in a really long while.”

Gojo listens to your amused reaction. He can see your eyes crinkle and your lips pressed together into a smile--it’s his favorite part about seeing you. Watching you sincerely be happy around was something he thought he would never crave, yet here he was knee deep in longing.

“I’m mostly good,” he thinks to himself, “Just a little too in love with you.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

I wrote this as a follow up for another Gojo x reader fic who used to be engaged. Check out the other parts!

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7 || Part 8

Comment or message to be added to the taglist! Or write down some comments about your feelsssss

Series Taglist: @tokyo-love-hotel @samkysnks @herownescape@cherrianne192 @shamelessdonutsludgebanana@kageyamakock@shirostrbl @luvang3l @cloudsinthecosmos@httpjungoo @saturnki  @itstheee-ha-chan @gucci-froggy @soy1melk @dora-the-grownup @cherryonigiri 

 If you’d like to continue being part of my taglist (JJK or Haikyuu), please let me know! I also write oneshots for both fandoms and soon I’ll be doing BSD too!

[mobiusxyearslater]

Rekindling (A Sonally Story)

A/N: This whole thing takes place about two years before the whole AU/Your Dork starts off for context. ~Mun @t-vict101

On a cool night in New Mobotropolis, Princess Sally Acorn is walking back to her cottage from the Tommy Turtle Memorial Hospital. She witnessed her friend, Bunnie Rabbot give birth to her firstborn daughter Annabelle. The whirlwind excitement and joy practically drained Sally’s energy, it was time for much-needed rest. She quietly walked along the dirt path still thinking about her new niece, how cute she looked, and how happy Bunnie and Antoine looked. That’s the kind of love that could last lifetimes. Sally starts to wonder if she could feel that way someday. Well, she did at one point, the only person she felt happy with was-- 

“Hey there Princess! You’re out late!” Sally heard a voice pipe up.

She looked forward to see the source of the cheery voice, well who else could it be? The one and only hero of Mobius, Sonic the Hedgehog, sat there on her porch giving her a soft wave. Sally stared at him for a few moments unsure of what to do. The last time she saw him he was off fighting Doctor Eggman and saving the world once again. That was almost half a year ago. But that was how Sonic was. There was no tying him down after the job was done which led to their romantic relationship being more on and off if anything. 

The ironic part was that their last break-up wasn’t because Sonic wasn’t around. It was because Sally was too busy juggling her life between her duties on the council and her duties as leader. Sonic did confront her about it which led to a big fight then eventually they agreed to go their separate ways. There was a twinge of guilt in Sally’s heart because of that and seeing Sonic there acting as if nothing happened. All Sally could do is muster up a small chuckle as she looks at the blue blur.

“Well, you know me. I’m always busy with one thing or another.” she joked as she took a seat next to Sonic, who gave her a chuckle. 

“Oh, boy don’t I know it! So what was it this time?” He playfully props his chin in his palm, “Council meetings? Ribbon cutting? Oh! A big speech in front of the entire kingdom?”

Sally gives him a small nudge and shakes her head, “Oh shut up. If you have to know, Bunnie and Antoine just had their baby tonight..”

“What??” Sonic perks up, “Those two have a kid now? Man. I feel like I miss out on a lot.”

Sally chuckles and shakes head, “Well that’s what happens when you’re gone for months on end.”

Sonic chuckles and scratches his head, “Heh. Well, I do come back once in a while though so it’s not all bad.

Sally let out a small chuckle and nod looking out to the moon, “Yeah.. I guess so.”

The two sit in silence just watching the moon. There was a feeling that someone should say something but neither of them did instead soaking in the atmosphere. Somehow, someway, the silence was relaxing for them both. No one brought up the past or having to suffer the awkwardness of reliving the whole thing over again. But there was one burning question that rattled in Sally’s head. Of all places to go in the middle of the night, why hers? Sonic still had his parents, his Uncle Chuck, heck he could just crash at Tails’ place if he really wanted to. 

Sally cleared her throat, making Sonic’s ear twitch. “So, you just randomly decided to pop up here?”

Sonic sweats a bit and gives off a nervous chuckle, “I guess I made it too obvious huh?” He looked at her shrugs, “...I guess I just missed you.”

Sally quirks a brow tilting her head, “Is that right?”

Sonic huffs at her tone and tilts his head, “What’s with that tone? I really did miss you.”

Sally chuckles and pats his head, sighing out tiredly, “And I missed you too.”

Still unable to get a read of what she’s thinking, Sonic wags at her at a finger, “...Why do I feel there’s a huge BUT coming up.”

Sally frowns and sighs out, “But… This feels like a pattern..” 

Sonic gives her a confused look, “What do you mean..?”

Through her tiredness she starts to pet through the blue hedgehog’s quills, “...This. Us. You leave for a long time then come back saying you missed me. Old feelings come up and we try again. Then…”

Sonic watched Sally as her words tiredly trailed and looked down to the ground. He always loved Sally, that fact is the solid truth, but being committed was a whole different ball game. Thinking about her words more, he started to see the pattern too. Sure his feelings were genuine at the moment but he’s always changing his mind about them. He started to think that maybe Sally wanted more than just part of him. Maybe she needed all of him, just like he wanted all of her. Maybe just maybe, him leaving for months after each attack isn’t fair to her at all. 

Sonic huffs out a chuckle and slides his hands behind his head, “...You wanna hear something funny?”

Sally rubs the tired out of her eyes and looks at him, “What’s that..?”

Sonic rubs his nose a bit, “While I was gone I actually dated someone for a small while.”

All Sally could do is huff in response, “So you can here in the middle of the night to tell me about your exes to your ex?”

Sonic nudges her a bit, “Just listen for sec. While I was away, I actually dated Amy for a small bit.”

Sally’s brows perk up hearing the news, “Wow. You actually let up and let her catch you huh?”

Sonic shrugs letting a small chuckle, “I did. I was always running and she was always there. I figured that was something I wanted or something. At least I thought I did.”

His words slowly trailed off as he thought about his time with Amy. The pink hedgehog sure was a spitfire. Wherever Sonic went she gladly went along with him for support. He figured giving her one date wouldn’t hurt. Then it turned into two. Then it turned to something exclusive. Their honeymoon phase was sweet but soon after Amy found herself in a bit of a rut. Hopping from city to city, fighting badniks left and right, she was all in on that no doubt but she wanted something more. At first, she thought Sonic was that solution, but when she had him that feeling never really went away.

Sonic sighs out softly circling his thumb in his palm. “So she dumped me. She said something about traveling around to find her purpose or something.”

Sally stared at the dejected hedgehog and softly petted his head, “You’re number one fan dumped you. That must’ve been a blow to the ol’ ego of yours.”

Sonic stifles a small chuckle letting himself relax under Sally’s touch, “Yeah it was but I get it.  It was fine for a while but I guess somewhere down the line. She realized I couldn’t give HER what SHE needed.” He lets out a sigh and looks up at the sky, “...I am proud of her though. Whatever she decides on doing for herself, she’ll be great at it.”

Sally nods in agreement and lets out a small yawn, “Yeah. She’s too determined to let herself fail at anything that’s for sure. She’ll probably be the best.”

Sonic shakes his head and looks at Sally, “Alright, enough about my dating life. What about you? Anyone in your life?”

Sally huffs out a chuckle and shakes her head, “Not really. There have been dates here and there but my busy schedule made it way too difficult to really settle into anything.” 

Sonic snickers a bit, “Woo boy don’t I know it--” he stops himself when he watches Sally’s face slowly fall into a frown, “Come on Sal. I don’t blame you for your hectic schedule.”

Sally gives him a look and crosses her arms, “Isn’t that the reason you dumped me the last time?” 

And there it was. That sting of awkwardness they worked so hard to avoid has finally come to the forefront. The silence draped over them as they sat there with their thoughts. No one knew what exactly to say at that moment. Sally realized she still had her hand on Sonic’s head and quickly pulled away looking away.

Sonic took a deep breath, “I know I gave you grief about it before. I just thought we could be how we used to be when we were 17.” Sally opened her mouth to say something but Sonic held up his hand. “Which I realized now… It can never be like that. I guess… I was…. I dunno.. Anxious about everything changing. You and Rotor on the council, Bunnie and Ant having a kid, Tails being the next inventor of the century, even Amy…” He takes a deep breath and kicks the dirt a bit, “...Seems like everyone is running this race and I'm dead last.”

Sally hums a bit pondering about his words, “...I guess… You’re feeling everyone is outgrowing you…?”

Sonic’s ear twitches and lets out a small pout leaning his chin in his palm, “....Maybe yeah…”

Sally lets out a small laugh and Sonic gives her a pouty look. She nudges him playfully, “Oh stop. I’m laughing because you’re the hero of Mobius. Everyone loves talking about you and practically wants to BE you.”

Sonic huffs out and crosses his arms, “I KNOW! I know I just… feel like I can do… more… Like I could do more for the world, my family, our friends, even you--” 

Sally’s brows perk up at the last part Sonic started to say but cut himself off. It was kinda strange seeing him so vulnerable. Usually, he had a real cocky attitude with everyone and was the brightest in the room. Honestly, this was a side of him that she tried to bring out a lot of the time but he would always brush it off like it was nothing. He seemed almost embarrassed that he was saying all of this out in the open, especially saying it to her.

She softly puts a hand on his shoulder, “...Hey. It’s normal to feel that way. Almost everyone feels that way sometime or another, right?”

Sonic sighs out and looks at her, “Yeah but it’s ME we’re talking about.”

Sally huffs and stands up, “Yeah and I know you better than you think. You’re a guy who takes action. You’re always putting others first before yourself. You’re a hero that inspires everyone to be the best versions of themselves.” She holds out a hand to him, “...Now are you going to stop moping and do something about it?”

Sonic stares at her hand remembering those were the words he said to her years before. He huffs out a chuckle before grasping onto her hand and standing up, “You got me there. And you’re right, like always.”

Sally chuckles and shakes her head, “Of course I am. I’ve known you way too long to be wrong.” 

Sonic chuckles a bit and watches her make her way up to her front door. He leans on the porch rail and tilts his head, “So I’m guessing I shouldn’t keep you from your beauty sleep any longer huh princess?”

Sally chuckles and shakes her head turning back to him, “Well that all depends if you’re going to keep me up all night.” She opens the door and gestures inside.

Sonic gives off a snarky chuckle as he walks up the steps stopping in front of her, “Oh ho ho! And what exactly do you mean by that princess?”

Sally rolls her eyes and pushes him inside of the cottage, “I mean you’re sleeping on the couch!”

Sonic pouts and leans back in her hands, “Aw but I could really use a nice big warm bed after months without one!”

Sally shakes her head, “You should’ve gone to your parents then.” She lets out a soft chuckle before shutting the door behind her, “You big dork.”

END

[realcube]

ARCADE

summary ★ she needs to get the action figure that's in the claw machine for her sister’s birthday, so saiki does her the favour of using his a telekinesis to win it...along with a few other favours.

trigger warning ★ gambling, god, swearing, fem!reader & reader has a younger sister

construction on the new arcade near pk academy had finally come to an end. the grand opening was today after school so of course, nendou suggested that they attend as a squad. usually, saiki tried to avoid getting roped into outings like this but for a change, he actually agreed without the need for any further prying. that's because the arcade was attached to a small cinema where they'd be premiering the latest action movie — based on the TV show adaptation of the game — 'Olfana's Story X-2'. as it turns out, a few months after saiki gave the game a shot, it became a craze and a massive hit among speed-runners. so from it's new-found popularity, they developed a TV show series which inevitably flopped so now they have created a movie. only the most elite people among the gaming community were allow to see it before the official release date and they all said it was incredible; but there was not a doubt in saiki's mind that they were being paid to sing it's praise. a crappy game turned into a crappy show, now adapted into a movie was sure to be crappy. so you may be wondering why he even wanted to view the movie if he was set on it being awful. Well, there are two simple answers; curiosity and the mystery. since it was so exclusive, he had yet to overhear spoilers through his telekinesis and he now had a germanium ring in his possession so he could watch the movie in peace. also, having played the game but not seen the show, he was curious to see how bad the movie is going to be and perhaps he'd be able to get a good laugh out of it. but he made the mistake of mentioning his plan to see the movie which screened a few hours after the opening of the arcade, as now kuboyasu, nendou and kaidou were all going to see the movie along with him. In theory, it shouldn't be a problem since he'll have his germanium ring on but in practise, the world seems to be against saiki so one of his friends will probably end up stealing his popcorn or chatting throughout the entire movie. he'll just have to wait and see. kaidou and nendou did not even stop to take breaths as they raced on about how excited they were while they were all walking to the arcade. "i'm sure the movie is going to be sick!" kaidou exclaimed, followed by rapid head nods from nendou as he replied, "yup! And i can't wait to see what sort of games they have!" saiki was a bit excited himself but he didn't care to show it like the others did. but when he saw the vaporwave building covered with bright neon lights come into view, his lips curled into a small smile. though it was short-lived as he noticed the massive queue to get in; it appeared as though they weren't the only ones who had the idea to visit the arcade after school as he noticed many familiar faces standing in line, amongst crowds of others. all of their cheery auras dissipated for a few moments until kuboyasu perked up, approaching the doors to the arcade with a smug smirk, cutting in front of everyone in the line and gesturing for the boys to follow him, "don't worry about the queue, guys. follow me." nendou followed without any further questions but saiki and kaidou were a bit apprehensive. all three of them watched as kuboyasu stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the guard by one of the doors, muttering something in the man's ear, causing him to sweatdrop and hesitantly open the door with a shaky smile; allowing all four of them inside. "woah, that was awesome, aren!" kaidou yelled, not only out of awe but so he could be heard over all the cheering, laughing and game noises from inside the arcade. "yeah, that was so cool! but what did you say to that guy? he looked freaked out!" nendou inquired, surprising saiki with his actually intelligent observation. kuboyasu's hand found it's way behind his neck, rubbing it awkwardly as he chuckled, "oh, nothing! it's not important-- hey! how about you guys start playing your games and i'll go get the tickets we reserved, yeah?" "yeah!" kaidou and nendou cheered in unison, high-fiving the purple-haired boy before the all ran off in different directions, leaving saiki standing alone at the entrance. he fidgeted with his germanium ring, contemplating taking it off as he stared at kuboyasu; he really wanted to know what the teen boy could've said that'd incite such fear into a grown man, but he decided against it — merrily making his way towards the claw machines, leaving kuboyasu's secrets alone. ★★★★★★★★★★ "shit." he cursed under his breath as he watched the cyborg cider man plushie that he's been trying to win — for yuuta — for half an hour straight slip out of his grasp once again. 'these things are rigged. and what's the point in having psychic superpowers if i can't use them.' he thought to himself but had to quickly shake off the idea, as there was no way he could risk using his powers in such a crowded place, especially for a plush that wasn't even for himself but rather for an annoying kid. he sighed, slipping another coin into the slot and about to find the right state of mind until he heard a loud "fuck!"  from in front of him. his head jerked up, scanning the area for the source of the noise until his eyes landed on you. the claw machines were lined up, back-to-back, and playing on the machine diagonal from him was a girl with enchanting (e/c) eyes which contrasted greatly with her disheartened expression as she stared at the box. the only emotion she wore was sadness as she stared at the machine, so out of curiosity, saiki slipped off his ring in order to read her thoughts; feeling no guilt in listening to the affairs of a complete stranger. 'c'mon, stupid claw machine, i need this!' your silky yet whiny voice rung through his mind, 'what's she gonna think about me tomorrow when i tell her that i couldn't get her the gift she's wanted? she's gonna hate me- even more than she already does. and now i've spent all my money on this silly game so i can't even try get her a crappy gift with the little money i had. Wow, (y/n), you're the worst big sister in existence.' saiki cocked his head to the side, peering through the glass of the machines to see the contents of the claw machine you were standing in front of and when he saw the limited edition, silver cyborg cider man action figure sitting on a pedestal — almost as if it was taunting the poor girl — he finally connected the dots. your hand dug through your pockets until you found the smooth metal surface of your final coin, 'just once more try. if i win her this action figure, maybe she'll finally respect me as her big sister! and this toy will surely make her more happy than any gift mom could've possibly thought of. i'll make her sixth birthday one to remember!' the dejected look on your face slow lifted into a determined one, but it wasn't very convincing as saiki — and anyone else — could see the worry and shame in your eyes as you dropped your last coin into the slot of the machine, giving you one more chance to redeem yourself and claim the title of 'best big sister in the world'. saiki watched you maneuver the claw of the machine with bated breath, admiring how your pretty nose crinkled and your tongue poked out from the corners of your perfectly glossed lips in concentration — 'ew, stop being a simp, kusuo.' he mentally rebuked himself before engaging with your scene one again. your fist slammed down against the big red button, followed by the claw opening and lowering over the box of the cyborg cider man action figure, slowly closing it's jaws around the box and grasping it perfectly, resulting in a slight gasp to escape your throat as your lips pulled into a grin. the claw kept it's grip in the toy as it lifted up, slowly making it's way over the hole where it would drop the action figure, straight into your possession.  that is, if the grip didn't falter hence allowing the toy to fall down, off it's pedestal and onto the bottom of the compartment to join the rest of the more average action figures. "fuck!" you screamed in an almost identical way to which you did earlier, expect this one held more pain. 'this can't be happening; is this the third year in a row that i'm going to show up to my little sister's birthday party empty-handed?' you thought, your bottom lips quivering so you quickly bit down on it, staring at the damned toy before turning on your heels, shuffling away from the game with your head hung low, the thoughts which cried in your head about how much you budgeted and how hard you worked made saiki's heart sink. 'maybe i could take out a mortga--' your thoughts were abruptly cut off when you heard the noise of something falling behind you. whipping your head around to see what happened, you exhaled a sigh of relief upon seeing nothing out of the ordinary. however, you caught a glimpse of inside the machine which you had been cursing at and realised that the toy wasn't with the packaging peanuts where you left it, as if it magically disappeared in the few seconds you had averted your gaze. creeping up to it, your gaze darted around in search of anyone who might've won it in less than 5 seconds but that was unlikely. now that you were closer, you peered through the glass once more to confirm that the toy was in fact missing and you were right. recalling the noise of falling you heard just before you turned around, you dropped to your knees and lifted the flap to the compartment which held the good that people would win from the machine. you almost screamed with delight and shock when you laid eyes on the limited edition, cyborg cider man action figure that was tucked snugly inside. yanking it out, you pressed it to your chest and the tears you were choking back finally came running down your cheeks, but now they were from joy. "thank you, god." you whispered to yourself, making saiki chuckle from his spot at the claw machine which he hadn't moved from. he wasn't god — nor was he friends with god — but he didn't mind not being able to take the credit for his kind actions of using his psychokinesis to drop the box into the hole for you. honestly, he found that seeing you happy, sitting on the floor with brightest beam gracing your features along with your now cheerful thoughts in his head, was enough of a reward for him anyway. also, he appreciated how you didn't question how the box ended up in the hole and instead you just deemed it a miracle as you were too overjoyed to use logic; that sort of thinking saved saiki a lot of trouble. 'i should probably go home and wrap this.' your internal monologue had now calmed down slightly as you were now able to produce a thought that wasn't just a squeal of delight, 'hm, maybe once i am done i could come back and see the new movie that's premiering-- but i've not got much money left so i guess i shouldn't get ahead of myself.' you hummed, picking up the box along with yourself, dusting yourself off before heading towards the exit. saiki must've been staring for a tad too long though as you caught his gaze while brushing off your clothes. he cringed, instinctively darting his eyes away so you didn't think he was an ogling creep but the fact he appeared defensive probably didn't help. so he fully expected you to frown or cast him a dirty look, judging him for his actions but to his surprise, you simply chuckled. waving at the pink-haired boy before strolling off with the box under your arm. 'he seems cool. where i can get clips like those?' why were you thoughts making him blush like an idiot? time to put the germanium ring back on. ★★★★★★★★★★ as it turns out, nendou is surprisingly good at poker. he figured this out after he stumbled across the casino section of the arcade, and since he looks way older than seventeen, nobody questions it when he took a seat at one of the slot machines, under the impression that it was a fancy, old-timey arcade game. he was then offered a round of poker with some old dude with way too many gold teeth and nendou ended up taking the poor, stubborn guy's entire fortune. god-knows how many games with how-many people later, nendou was sitting on stacks of cash at a round table with a tired dealer, and two grown men — one crying into the shoulder of his arm-candy and the other weeping into the sleeve of his suit — while the three boys who had came to give him his ticket stood by, all wearing matching confused expressions. "uh, nendou." kuboyasu tapped his friend on the shoulder, waving the ticket in front of his face, "the movie is gonna start soon, we should start heading over there right now so we can buy snacks and get good seats." nendou raised an eyebrow, puzzled until he recalled that he was supposed to watch a movie today, "oh, that sounds cool and all but i'm having a lot of fun right here." he smiled, motioning to the large casino area. kuboyasu chuckled awkwardly, backing away from nendou slightly as he turned on his heels, ushering the two other boys away, "alright, well, have fun, nendou! don't stay out too late!" nendou sung an okay in response, sliding a kaidou some cash for the extortionate theatre snacks before he was rushed away by kuboyasu, the purple-haried boy not wanting to spend anymore time in the casino than needed. "if nendou isn't joining us for the movie then we have a spare ticket. here, saiki, you should have it!" "why me?" "uh, because you said you saw reita earlier. so if you see him again maybe you could offer him the spare ticket." 'absolutely not.' was vocalised as "sure." by saiki as he took the ticket from kuboyasu's outstretched hand, fiddling with it before stuffing it into his pocket along with his own ticket. "what i said to nendou was kinda an exaggeration" aren mused, glancing at his watch before looking up at his two pals, "we still have some time left before the movie starts. i'm gonna go handle some business — you two have fun, and try find reita!" kuboyasu said before pivoting on his heels in the direction of the staff only closet. the only thing saiki could think to do during this free-time was escape kaidou's pestering to play dance dance revolution — since saiki didn't want to dance, dance or revolute, he darted outside as soon as kuboyasu left, leaving kaidou alone and confused in the middle of the arcade. 'finally, fresh air.' saiki inhaled, filling his lungs with the cool air rather than the stuffy, arcade oxygen. scanning the surrounding area, his eyes caught a glimpse of a figure standing by the ATM, which he immediately recognised to be that of the girl he had helped earlier. so naturally, he flicked of his ring to figure out the reasoning behind the awkward look on her face. 'do i really want to withdraw money to see some stupid movie? i mean, i could leave that money to accumulate and buy something nicer later.' without thinking, saiki hummed in agreement with your thoughts as he had been in your position many times before. 'but then again, i should treat myself! when was the last time i saw a movie that wasn't pirated? hmm..' your indecisive thoughts matched perfectly with your conflicted expression as you stared through furrowed brows at the screen of the ATM. a soft breeze passed, followed by something light smacking against you face. you winced slightly, your hand snapping your cheek and grabbing at whatever it was; just by the texture, you could tell it was paper. holding it in front of you, upon further inspection you realised that the mysterious sheet that had flew into your possession was in fact a ticket to tonight's showing of 'Olfana's Story X-2'  row G, seat 9. you double, triple checked it out of fear that this may be a cruel prank but no, this was completely real! you cheered, bouncing up and down and away from the ATM since you no longer needed it's services as god had blew the desired item straight into your hands — or your face, rather. either way though, you were over the moon, clutching the ticket to your chest and basking in your second miracle of the day. unbeknownst to you, saiki's smile was almost as wide as your own. you thanked god for your relief and saiki had no problem with that; seeing your little happy dance and squeals with your free ticket was enough for him. but actually, perhaps he might benefit himself after all, since the ticket he had given you previous belonged to nendou. meaning that saiki was seated at row G, seat 10; right beside you. ★★★★★★★★★★ saiki forgot to send a few notes flying your way in the wind, so you walked into the theatre and took your seat, completely snackless since you couldn't afford the exorbitant prices that they sold food for at the cinema. but perhaps that wasn't all bad as it revealed the possibility for saiki to offer you some of his popcorn as a conversation-starter, as he's usually not too good at socialising with new people — forget starting a conversation. however, he didn't need to work up any sort of courage to talk to you as the first thing you did when you plopped down in your seat beside him was turn to him and chirp, "oh, you're the guy i saw at the claw machines earlier! i love your clip thingies." your buoyant-adrenaline allowing your to be more bold than usual. the movie had yet to start, low murmurs of chatter coming from across the theatre as the trailers played in the background, "yes. and thanks." 'good grief, curse myself for not being more talkative. she probably thinks i'm dull now. perhaps i should channel my inner nendou..if i have one.' instead of ending the conversation right there like he assumed you would, you continued talking and saiki was..glad? why did he want to interact with you so much? he spends most of his days trying to avoid interacting with people; why were you any different? "no problem- also, did you get what you were playing for?" you inquired, tapping your lip in genuine curiosity. his ring remained on his finger, despite the fact he wanted to know what you thought about him, he didn't want to invade your privacy any more than he already has. "no. did you?" "yeah, i did, actually!" you chirped, not noticing the smirk creeping onto saiki's lips as you were too engulfed in your memories, "i thought those games were rigged but maybe they're not 'cause i managed to win this super special action figure that my sister has been on the top of my sister's wishlist for like- forever! and her birthday is tomorrow so i'll be a--" you cut yourself off, crinkling your nose in embarrassment, "sorry, i'm over-sharing, aren't i?" your enthusiasm made his heart flutter in a way he wasn't used to, if you didn't know any better, he would have thought he was having a medical emergency. his eyes widened slightly as you halted in your speech, "no, you're fine." he said, the uncharacteristic softness in his voice catching the attention of his two pals sitting on the other side of him. you shook off his comment, "i mean, i'm telling you my life story and i don't even know your name." you said, laughing sheepishly at the reality of the reality of the situation. 

“saiki kusuo.” he blurted out without a second thought.

you blinked a few times, shocked that he’d give his details away so easily as you somewhat expected him to be more of a reserved type of guy but evidently, you were wrong. “uh, i’m (l/n) (y/n).” you choked, biting down on your bottom lip slightly before continuing you story as he seemed to wait expectantly, “as i was saying, today’s just been the best day ever! everything has been going so well, i’m a bit scared as to what is going to happen when it hits midnight.” 

saiki nodded along, popping a piece of popcorn into his mouth before remembering his plan, “oh- would you like some?” he asked, offering you some popcorn from his bucket. unfortunately, the plan was a last-minute thing so he had only bought a small, but he still wasn’t opposed to sharing. 

you shook your head, trying to grin foolishly wide at his kind offer, “no thank you.” 

saiki nodded, about to open his mouth to reply until the blaring music from the beginning of the movie started, putting a swift end to your conversation — despite the fact saiki would much rather talk to you than watch the crappy movie — out of theatre etiquette. 

★★★★★★★★★★

it was worse than you or saiki could’ve ever imagined.

it was painfully trying not to burst out laughing right in middle of it or lean over and giggle in each other’s ear at the silly dialog but out of respect for the other people in the cinema, you both stayed silent and just cast each other occasional knowing glances whenever something cringey happened on screen. 

you both let out audible sighs of relief with the credits began to roll, accompanied by a slow indie song. “that was..something.” you mumbled, grabbing your purse and jumping to your feet, wanting to exit the building as soon as possible and hopefully leave your memories of the movie behind you. 

“definitely.” he snickered, absently flicking the side of his empty popcorn bucket, “i stopped paying attention once i finished my popcorn.” it felt weird to vocalise — or rather, telepathically communicate — the comments he’d usually keep to himself; why did he feel so comfortable speaking to someone he only just met?

he began gathering his things, stuffing all of his rubbish in the bucket so he could dispose of it all at once. his mind was fixated on crappiness of the movie and how a five-year-old could’ve shot a much better film, until you grabbed his attention by calling out his name, followed by a question which made him blood run cold.

“before i go, it gotta ask’ how’d you do it? or more importantly, why’d you do it?”

he blinked several times before putting on his best bewildered expression, with the idea that maybe if he played dumb, he could gaslight you into thinking that it never happened or that he had nothing to do with it. “what?”

“oh, don’t give me that!” you scoffed, narrowing your eyes at the boy, “i’m not stupid. every time something good happened to me, you were nearby. i’ve connected the dots so fess up. why did you do all those nice things for me? was it out of pity or are you that nice to everyone?”

“i’m that nice to everyone.”

“i don’t believe you.” you snapped, fixing your tone when you remembered that even though he was lying to you, he still helped you get the present for you sister and gave you his spare ticket. “i don’t care if you’re not gonna give me a straight answer, but at least let me make it up to you.”

he huffed, an unimpressed look covering his features before you even proposed your idea. there was really nothing he could possibly need from you. what were you going to give him that he wasn’t capable of obtaining on his own? so he frowned, ready to decline your offer. 

“i saw that you bought one of those jelly pots from the snack stand and i actually work at a little café in the town, so i might be able to get you few things for free or discounted?”

“yes.” wait, that wasn’t refusal. 

“great!” you chirped, glad that you wouldn’t have to pry further, “does later this week sounds good? we could meet up here then i can walk you to the café- or i could give you my number and we can arrange a date later?” 

“sure.” saiki said without thinking once again.

but it wasn’t as though he regretted it when you slipped the piece of paper you had scribbled your number onto, into the front pocket of his shirt, tapping it with a smile. “alright! i’ll see you later then- unless you want to walk home with me?” you fidgeted with your fingers slightly, instantly regretting what you just came out with. not because you didn’t want to walk with him, but due to the fact you highly doubted he was going so say accept so you mentally prepared for the impact of his harsh rejection.

“sure.”

★★★★★★★★★★

BONUS 

saiki ended up walking home with some girl he met at the theatre so that left kuboyasu and kaidou to fetch nendou once the film finished. they both searched the casino area for almost half an hour but neither of them had any luck finding nendou. that was, until kuboyasu had to take a step outside to escape the casino as he noticed an old friend of his playing on the slot machines, and he found nendou crouched by the garbage cans, on his phone. 

“nendou! we’ve been looking all over for you- why are you out here by the trash? and what happened to all your money?!”

nendou chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck with his spare hand, “fun story actually. i was doing so well and i was on my way to becoming a millionaire until these schoolgirls came marching in and absolutely slaughtered me! it was so embarrassing and the only way i could escape them was by running away so i hid back here.”

kuboyasu’s aura just screamed ‘disappointed but not surprised’, “so you’re telling me that you lost millions to highschool girls?”

“they might’ve been middle-schoolers, i’m not too sure. i didn’t get a very good look at ‘em but they were all wearing creepy red uniforms.”

all kuboyasu could do was massage his temples to ease his headache at the stupidity of his friends, “so you lost all your money to school girls in creepy red uniforms?” he repeated aloud, just to make sure he was hearing things correctly.

“yes. but not all my money.” he said, pulling out his wallet and grandly opening it to reveal a few notes and a button, “i’ve still got enough to spend on ramen with my bros!”

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

What if Bella had met the Volturi's as a child? What would it change and what ties do you think it would have?

It’d change a fair amount, as in, the entire plot of Twilight would have been derailed. Or, that is, it might change nothing at all.

So, we have three options here. 

Nothing Changes

Bella is an extraordinarily delicious child visiting Italy and the small medieval town of Volterra.

If Bella doesn’t happen to be on the tour, probably whoever’s looking at her sighs, looks longingly at her delicious blood, and then walks away. The Volturi do not lose control in their own city.

Bella goes on her merry way and Twilight presumably happens. Except maybe Bella goes to Alice, “Oh yeah, Volterra, I went there once. Nifty place, nice buildings.” Alice stares.

Bella’s Eaten

Bella’s an extraordinarily delicious child whose mother thinks it’s a great idea to sign them up for the tour of Volterra castle. It’s a very exclusive tour you know! Bella’s eaten almost immediately, she’s probably fought over, Jane gets one limb and Alec gets another.

Years later, Edward arrives in Forks, his personal purgatory where he listens to the banal thoughts of teenagers. Bella Swan does not arrive. Edward continues to be miserable and depressed.

The Cullens have a game of baseball with James, Laurent, and Victoria. Unfortunately, James recognizes Alice, and is intrigued enough to come after her. Unfortunately, Alice is a vampire and not a human with human relatives to hold hostage. The Cullens murder him, Laurent flees to have sex with the sexy Denali ladies, and Victoria swears vengeance upon Jasper.

Unfortunately, her gift tells her that any attempt to murder Jasper will end up with her dead. Jasper doesn’t give her the time needed to plan. He hunts her down and murders her in cold blood.

Carlisle has the world’s worst weekend. 

Edward is still depressed and concludes this is why vampires are abominations without souls. Irina gets to keep her boyfriend, he cheats on the diet and leaves within the year. Irina drowns herself in rebound sex with pretty mortals to try and feel better abou tbeing dumped. It doesn’t work.

Aro Discovers Bella

And this is probably the route you were thinking of.

Perhaps Aro’s taking a midnight stroll with Renata, perhaps he catches Bella on the tour, but somehow he manages to meet her and happens to brush her hand. Suddenly, eating Bella is off the table forever.

Bella’s gift isn’t game changing in the way Alec and Jane’s were, necessarily, but it is something Aro does not want falling into enemy hands and something he may one day need.

He’d probably do something similar to what he intended to do with Alec and Jane. He’d leave her to live her mortal life, keep close tabs on her, and turn her when she’s a young adult (probably around twenty).

Which means Bella returns to America, probably tailed by Demetri, and has no awareness that she is at some poing going to become an immortral blood drinking creature and move to Italy to become a member of an ancient vampire sect.

Bella moves to Forks, she has a run in with Edward Cullen who very nearly eats her, Demetri calls Aro to say “we have a problem”. At first, Aro isn’t too concerned, he’s delighted to hear that Carlisle’s alive and well and my god he has a coven now. Given Edward is Carlisle’s progeny, Aro is probably sure Edward will leave the city completely to avoid temptation and the others will quickly move on.

Edward’s back within the week. He attends school. He sits within a foot of Bella Swan in Biology class.

Demetri at this point probably summons Bella out of school in the middle of Biology with no warning, gets her the hell away from Edward, and has to come up with the world’s most ridiculous lie of why she should never enter within 20 feet of Edward Cullen ever again.

Demetri is a federal agent and Edward is under suspicion of being a sexual predator and serial murderer. Here are all the women who have disappeared in various towns the Cullen family have lived in.

Bella is of course horrified and shocked, but given Edward’s reaction in that first Biology class and his weirdness in the second one... 

Aro calls Carlisle. It’s a very awkward talk. Carlisle apologizes for not writing in forever he got... distracted. Aro says it’s fine, no big, CARLISLE MISSED WATCHING THE MOON LANDING WITH HIM. But regardless, Aro is calling to ask him what the fuck.

Aro tells him about Bella, Carlisle is very uncomfortable with this girl having no choice but to become a vampire and no idea what’s going to happen to her, but there’s no talking Aro out of it. He’s even more uncomfortable that he has been begging Edward to skip town but, for some unknown reason that is perhaps pride, Edward is refusing. 

“All these worlds are yours,” Aro undoubtedly says, “Except Europa, attempt no landing there.”

In other words, hands off Isabella Swan.

Carlisle tells Edward. Edward is appalled and conflicted. At this point, he’s unwillingly fascinated by Bella but has not yet decided he’s in love. He doesn’t quite have her Carlisle persona crafted yet  and so she’s not the saintly figure deserving of worship. Right now she’s just this plain, boring, girl who dared to smell delicious.

So, a part of him thinks it serves her right. Now she will suffer for all eternity as he does. More, he can save face, the monster inside him can go back to sleep for her days are number and he can pretend he’s the wonderful person everyone thinks he is. Everything will remain as exactly as it is. EDWARD IS FINE, THIS IS FINE.

Another part of him panics. First, this girl is condemned to the worst future imaginable. Not only is she becoming a demon, but a blood drinking demon at Blood Drinking Demon HQ. More, if she becomes a vampire, no blood for Edward. And remember, this is a scent he would scour the world for. Edward salivates over the thought of her blood, obsesses over it constantly, and fantasizes over how he will devour her. Suddenly, Edward may not be able to eat her. In canon, the option of eating her is always on the table, and some part of Edward is always thinking about it, always leaving it open. Here, it’s soon to be gone.

Edward probably sneaks into her room at night to watch over her sleep. Telling himself he’s protecting her from meteors but also realizing that he’s there to test his own will power and ponder over the future in which he quietly eats her in the middle of the night. 

Now, this can go two ways

Bella wakes up, and that guy Demetri said is a sexual predator targeting her is IN HER BEDROOM LOOKING SCARY AS FUCK. Bella undoubtedly screams bloody murder and tries to hit Edward with something.

Edward panics at the noise and eats her. Then when Charlie comes running he eats Charlie Swan too. The house is an utter blood bath, Edward stands there in a daze knowing the monster inside him has won. He no longer looks anything like Carlisle Cullen (this is a thing Edward does).

Probably though, Demetri is there. Which means Edward has heard his thoughts from the beginning. While Edward has the overconfidence of Gilderoy Lockhart, and tells Bella things like the laws of physics not applying to his driving or that he could beat Jasper in a fight with both hands tied behind his back, usually when push comes to shove he knows where he stands. (He tries to fight Jane in Volterra, it doesn’t go well, and he acts very meek at being confronted by Jane, Felix, etc. When he fights Victoria, he doesn’t fight at all, but just blathers nonsense and it somehow works out for him.)

So, while Edward will tell Jasper later that he totally could have taken Demetri, he’s not going to try. 

So, instead, Demetri goes, “Hey buddy, looking for a midnight snack?” and Edward shuffles and petulantly asks, “Aren’t you looking for a midnight snack?!” Edward’s here to protect Bella, you see. Demetri just nods, of course, Edward’s here to protect Bella.

They stare at each other.

Neither leaves.

Eventually, Edward slinks away, feeling very disgusted with himself, angry and Demetri, and internally raging that he didn’t get to eat Bella.

Demetri calls Aro and notes that they’ve got to turn the girl. Demetri cannot watch her 24/7 and this boy is 100% going to eat her. Aro hops on a plane in record time, bringing Renata, and makes an awkward visit to both Carlisle and Bella.

Aro tells Bella the truth about Edward which is... a little different but also pretty scary, the truth about what’s going to happen to her and why it’s important, and anything else she wants to know.

I imagine Bella quietly and stoically accepts her fate. 

Edward doesn’t get to eat Bella Swan. He feels very conflicted about it and is filled with self-loathing that he’s conflicted about it. I imagine the Madonna complex he holds for Bella blossoms at this point, and he later comes to Italy with the intent to free her from the Volturi clutches.

This doesn’t work out. 

Knowing Edward, his attempts increase in desperation until, finally, he does something very illegal in an attempt to free her and make up for damning her to this life.

The Volturi are forced to execute Edward.

Carlisle gets yet another awkward, terrible, phone call from Aro.

[tainted-wine]

I hope you don’t mind this being exclusive for the Pro-Heroes!

(NSFW)

Papers? Check. Writing utensils? Check. Lube? Check.

You were primed and ready to begin this cocktastic journey. Completing this project will be a great benefit to Thirstology. You can’t believe that they put their trust in you to collect such valuable information from several willing participants. There’s no way you’re going to let the people at National Thirst Studies down.

With your lower body completely bare, you and your ambitious pussy set out to begin the cockwarming interviews.

Yagi Toshinori/All Might

Pre-Notes: The Symbol of Peace. It’s still surreal to see him in such a fragile state. Strangely enough, I never once asked myself: Does All Might fuck? “Obviously he was too pure for fucking,” is what I would have said before I devoted my life to Thirst Studies. But I have learned over the years that there is no such thing as purity.

------

After he got over the initial shock of you wearing no pants or underwear, you were finally able to begin your study and ask him the main question.

You barely dodged the spray of blood spewing out of his mouth. “Am I into what?” He sputtered.

“Cockwarming, sir. The act of settling a penis in a nice cozy orifice. There’s no movement, only penetration. Surely you already at least knew the definition when you agreed to this?” You offered him a paper towel, which he accepted with a choked “thank you.”

“Midnight told me this would be about intimate relationships,” he anxiously explained while wiping the red off of his lips. “But I wasn’t expecting to hear something that graphic.”

Ah, so he was talked into this. “Well, with your permission, I can give you a personal demonstration.”

His answer was inaudible the first time; you had to ask him to speak up in order to hear his adorably high “yes.” He was a lot shyer than you imagined. Poor guy was shaking like he was on a verge of a heart attack when you took his cock out and boy, did he put the ‘long’ in ‘schlong.’ But your mission wasn’t to admire the dick’s appearance, it was to learn how their owners used them inside a hot snatch. You climbed onto him and lowered yourself and ooooh shit, both of you were moaning as his inches sank into you. You couldn’t take it all, but it was more than enough to get the job done.

“Mmnngh, yes, very long. Pushing almost painfully,” You said through clenched teeth, scribbling in your notepad as you sat semi-comfortably in his lap. “Can you give me your input, Toshinori? How is this feeling for you?”

“Blrraaaffggg.”

“Toshi?”

“…”

He laid limp in the interview chair as crimson liquid continued to flow from his mouth. Well, this is troublesome. You’ll have to wait for him to regain consciousness to hear his feedback.

------

Conclusion: This was his first time experiencing cockwarming. He described it as ‘intense, but not unpleasant’. Unfortunately, whenever I ask for more details, he would get too embarrassed to share anything. Frankly, this isn’t the most fruitful start to my series of interviews, but it was a great privilege to meet the amazing All Might.

Shouta Aizawa/Eraserhead

Pre-Notes: I honestly don’t even know who the hell this is. An underground hero, apparently. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you that he brought a cat with him. I told him that it needs to stay outside during the interview, but the difficult bastard was ready to turn around and leave unless I allowed the furball in. What a hassle. Do I even want to sit on this man?

------

You’re thankful that you did, in fact, sit on this man. His sleek ebony cat was relaxing in your lap while your pink kitty was stuffed with his cock. Despite his indifference to the situation, it was strangely intimate. Taking notes over a cute feline while his length twitched inside you was rather challenging.

“You seem like a rather exhausted fellow. Is it maybe the laid-back nature of the act that you find so alluring?” You asked.

“Mmhmm.” His arms circled around you to stroke his adorable pet.

“Being able to just wind down by giving your hard snake a wet hot crib to rest in?”

“Mmmmm.”

“I would appreciate a more elaborate answer.”

“Mmmmm...”

You shifted just enough to turn your head and see Aizawa’s head lolled back, his breaths getting heavier after each exhale. You can feel him quickly going soft inside you.

Ugh...

------

Conclusion: Given that he fell asleep in the middle of the demonstration, it’s safe to say that he finds the act very relaxing. I can only make guesses because the moment he woke up, he hurried me off his lap, picked up his cat and headed out. I did my best to chase him and ask if I could at least hear his final thoughts, but that bastard leaps on cars and buildings as skillfully as Edgeshot.

Hizashi Yamada/Present Mic

Pre-Notes: I’m not sure what to expect from the Voice Hero. His radio show has hosted some surprisingly insightful interviews. Unlike the last two, he will hopefully have some truly constructive answers to give.

------

“Not gonna lie, I always wanted to try this!”

Both of you were red in the face as you sat on his throbbing cock. Despite the blush and slight shake in his voice, he was as cheerful as ever. “Sometimes I just wonder, it would be pretty cool to just have a hottie warmin’ me up during my show, ya dig? No sex, though. I know I’m not quiet enough to get away with that on the air!” He laughed loudly right into your ear.

Well that kinda hurt, but it’s nice to finally have a fully cooperative interviewee. You were actually able to ask all of your planned questions for once, and Hizashi gave a satisfying answer to each one.

Unfortunately, it just couldn’t go perfectly, and his phone ended up ringing near the end of the interview.

“Hold on, listener. I gotta take this.”

Did he really? You wished he would wait until you were done.

You felt him lean back as you remained on his lap. “Shouta, buddy! What’s goin’ on?”

Shouta? Does he mean...?

“Sorry about that! I’m not home yet, I’m doin’ a...special interview, with a hard-working thirstologist.” You heard the voice on the other end respond, and Hizashi made a noise of confusion. “Eh? What do you mean ‘you too?’”

Oh dear, he does. They actually know each other.

The conversation quickly transformed into an argument, a loud one. The two heroes apparently have some...tension between them.

“Oh, so I throw hints at you for years and you act as innocent as your cats, but you’ll sit down and let a girl hop on your dick during an interview?!”

You had to lift yourself off of his softening member and take shelter from his booming voice. He was tucking himself back into his pants with one hand as he marched out of the room, but his hurt and anger was still loud and clear. “Don’t give me that bull. I bet if I hit you with twenty one questions about cockwarming, you’d just pretend you’re asleep! Oh, you actually did fall asleep? Huh.”

You awkwardly collected your notes as the two gentlemen were seemingly making up.

“Damn right I’ve always felt this way. Oh man, you better get ready tonight because I’ve got over ten years of pent up feelings, and you’re gonna take it all.”

------

Conclusion: It feels good to have a full interview. In summary, Hizashi is intrigued by the combination of closeness and casualness of it all. His interest in cockwarming during his jobs also indicate a possible thrill out of doing it in public. In addition, I’d like to announce with some pride that I may have assisted in taking two friends to the next level of their relationship.

Hawks

Pre-Notes: I’m eager to hear what the handsome winged hero has to say. I wouldn’t mind if we just stare at each other throughout the entire interview. My lust for him is unbearably strong and I’m not sure why. It’s probably just the horny writer’s obvious bias towards this bird. She could use another hobby.

------

Hawks laughed once you gave him the question that officially begins the interview. “Gotta admit, I’ve actually never tried it.”

That’s a surprise that you quickly jot down in your notes. “I see. Is it something you’re interested in trying? I can give you a demonstration right here.”

“Oh? I’d love one.”

You try not to look too excited as you leave your seat and move to undo his pants, but Hawks raises a hand.

“But I want you to do it on your knees.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “My knees? How do I-”

“With your mouth.”

Oh my.

You granted his request and kneeled down to take his half-hard cock into your mouth.

“Ahhh, that’s nice.” He sighed loudly, spreading his legs more as he stared down at you.

You detached your mouth from him to speak. “Can you tell me what it is that you-mmffrrf.”

A hand pushed you back down onto his man meat. “No no no, just...stay right there. I’ll do the talking in a minute.”

You sat there with his cock growing in the heat of your mouth. Hawks’s eyes were closed, a small content smile on his face. Every time you lifted your head just an inch, the hand on your head pressed you back down. Just when this interview was starting to feel more like a hookup, he finally began to talk.

“Oh yeah, I’ve fantasized stuff like this. You got a shitty boss? I do, don’t tell them I said that, though. They’re always finding something to get on my ass about. Working me like a dog everyday, expecting me to pull off these insane missions flawlessly.”

All you could do was look up and listen to his rant. He must have loved the sight of you, going by the strong twitch of his length in your mouth.

“They just keep asking more and more from me. ‘Do this faster next time, Hawks!’ or ‘I know you’ve never done something like this before, but don’t fail us, Hawks!’ Sometimes I just wanna shove something in their mouths...like my dick. Can you relate?”

You shook your head as well as you could in your current position.

He shrugged. “Oh well. As far as I know, I’ll always be the one getting fucked by them. But something like this...” He pat your head. “Ah yeah, it would be so nice to see them like this...”

------

Conclusion: Hawks was sadly short on time and had to leave before I could even get into the questions. Going by the very personal feelings and frustrations he shared, Hawks enjoys the dominance displayed from cockwarming, and prefers it be done orally. I will respect his wishes and not reveal any of the opinions that he shared about the establishment he works for and its executives.

Taishiro Toyomitsu/Fat Gum

Pre-Notes: It’s best that I continue to be honest: I’m anxious. Fat Gum is one of the biggest heroes around, and I just know that there is a deadly pillar of pussy destruction in those pants. I know that I should be more concerned with the questions, but it just won’t leave my mind.

------

“So, what experience do you have with this, Toyomitsu?”

The large man chuckled. He was currently in his skinny form, which you’re pretty thankful for since his fat form would have been beyond awkward to straddle. That would be like trying to hump one of those giant inflatable characters at parades. “A pretty lady I knew was really into it! I tried it for her sake, but I’ll say this with no ego, my sausage ain’t something to be taken lightly! Still, she was determined, and I was really digging just how strong her will was to take me.”

‘She sounds like a very brave soul,‘ you thought as your pen glided across your paper.

“I couldn’t believe it when she managed to get all of me inside. She couldn’t either, because she passed out! At first I just wanted to laugh it off,” he cackled as if to give an example, but his face quickly drooped into a somber expression. “But then I realized she wasn’t breathing...” His eyes shut in pain and sorrow. “And I couldn’t find a pulse...”

You nearly dropped your pen in horror. “My goodness, Toyomitsu. I’m so sor-”

“I’m just messin’ with ya! She’s fine!” His face immediately brightened up again, leaving you shocked and somewhat upset over the scare. “But seriously, if you want a seat on this big boy, I hope you’ve got plenty of lube on hand.”

“Don’t worry, I do. More than enough for the biggest flesh towers.”

But your doubts instantly returned when the bulging monster was freed from his pants. It’s huge. Toshinori may have been long, but this monster was unbelievable in both length and girth.

Your fear must have been evident on your face, because Toyomitsu asked, “You sure you wanna do this? Don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

You whipped out your bottle of lube and drenched your hands. “Thirstology is my passion. My life’s work. I am more than willing to put my life on the line for science.”

The hero raised an eyebrow. “It’s...not that serious, but I really like your guts, missy.” He gave himself a few strokes. “So let me tear them up.”

Even with the coatings of lube inside your pussy and on his massive cock, this was still the most arduous task you have ever performed in your life. You didn’t know it was possible to be stretched this far. The light blonde was mesmerized by your trembles and scrunched expressions and as you tried to take more of him, his mouth slightly open when he noticed the swell in your lower abdomen.

“Oh, that is hot.”

------

Conclusion: I did it. I took the Fat Gun. Fat Gum himself takes a lot of pleasure in watching the strain of someone trying to take him in, and due to his partner often being much smaller than him, the tightness is very pleasurable to him. He was the only interviewee that actually came during the demonstration, so I suppose it’s safe to say that he is the biggest fan of cockwarming out of the five. He was very panicked when he came inside me, but I reassured him that I am on the pill. This is still a hell of a mess to clean up, however.

(I hope the information I have obtained will be useful for the institute. Thank you for giving me this opportunity)

[crowdedimagines]

Meant To Be - Harry Styles

i am a WHORE for singledad!harry 🤩 3k

Just like nearly all of the other boys in the band, Harry fell right in line and became a father shortly after the release of his first album. He couldn’t have been more excited, being a dad has always been something he craved. The only thing he would change would be the fact that he wished it happened out of love, rather than a one night stand with a woman who would give up full custody only eight days after their son was born.

She was young, not ready for motherhood and definitely not ready to deal with being the mother of Harry Styles’ child, and that Harry couldn’t blame her for that. Even though he would never understand how anyone could leave a part of themselves. How someone could give up their own child.

So for a while Harry took a break from the public and raised his son. His fans were understanding of the break, just waiting for the day he would come back to them. He was alone, but never really. He always had the help of Anne and Gemma, not to mention all of the close friends who wanted to steal away little Sawyer who was truly a mini Harry. A mess of loose brown curls that were impossible to tame.

Sawyer was nearly three when Y/n came into their lives. She was soft and warm, and both boys were quick to fall. Anne introduced them, she had come across Y/n at her grocery store.

“Harry, you just have to meet her.” Anne gushed, following Harry around her living room as he picks up toys that had been littered throughout her house.

“Mum, I don’t think I need you setting me up. I’m not looking for anything right now.” Harry tried explaining, he was tired about his mother talking about this woman that she had encountered and befriended.

��You guys are meant to be!”

“Mum-”

“Trust me on this one, when I met her I just had this gut feeling.”

“What d’ya mean?” Harry asks, finally pausing to look at her.

“Like she’s going to be family one day.”

Harry didn’t have time for dating, not while raising his son and still finding time to write music. He would love to share his life with someone other than Sawyer, but he didn’t need it.

He wasn’t surprised even slightly when he came down for breakfast with Sawyer tucked on his hip to find out that Y/n would be joining them for lunch. His mother wouldn’t miss the opportunity of him staying with her. She was taking advantage of Harry making a week-long trip north to visit.

Lunch came fast and Sawyer was just getting up from his nap when Y/n knocked on the door.

“Y/n! C’mon in!” Anne ushered her straight through the front door.

“Your home is lovely.”

Harry heard her voice before he caught a glimpse and it would be a lie to say that his heart didn’t skip a beat when he rounded the corner and saw her for the first time.

She was talking enthusiastically with Anne that had something to do with the paint in the entryway. His mother had mentioned something about her being an interior designer. He didn’t even have to exchange words with the girl to know what his mom was talking about. He had the same feeling that she had, this girl was different.

“Hi!” His typically shy boy says loudly, revealing to both of the women that he was standing there.

Y/n turns to face them, a warm grin already gracing her face.

“And you must be Sawyer.”

Sawyer nods, turning back to his shy roots. He ducks his head back against Harry’s neck to hide away a little.

“Hi, I’m Y/n.” She greets, introducing herself to both of them now.

“It’s lovely to meet you.” Harry smiles.

“Likewise.”

After that they moved onto lunch in Anne’s garden. The conversation was overflowing, Harry had never felt to at ease talking with someone, especially not after having Sawyer.

Anne was all too proud to say ‘I told you so’ to Harry as soon as she shut the door behind Y/n. It was impossible to miss the connection they shared, and if that wasn’t enough she caught them exchanging phone numbers towards the end of their day.

They moved quickly after that, texting, calling, and facetiming as often as they could which lead to dates. Only a month after meeting each other Harry asked her to be his girlfriend. She was happy to say yes, and just thankful to be exclusive with the boy who had taken over her heart and mind the past few weeks.

So for months they dated, things going better than any other relationship they had ever been in. Harry loved her for everything that made her Y/n. For the way she treated Sawyer and respected their relationship.

It was only seven months into their relationship when Harry decided that he was going to  propose, he wanted Y/n to be his wife as soon as possible. He knew after the third date that he wanted to keep her around, but it was a cold day in London when he knew for sure that she would forever be family to himself and Sawyer.

Sawyer was on day two of his cold, he finally had medication but he was still having trouble with his cough and couldn’t always breath. Harry was worried, but he had been through the flu and colds with Sawyer before. Y/n hadn’t and she had been more than attentive at the doctor's office. Harry couldn’t help, but smile over her concern and her many many questions.

She settled once they got home and meds that could help.

“I hate feeling helpless like this.” Y/n mutters as she takes the kettle off so that both her and Harry could have some tea.

“You’re not helpless, love.” Harry reassures, “Kids get sick.”

“I know.” She sighs.

She lets out a yawn as she brings over a mug to Harry at the counter. Harry presses a kiss to her temple as a thank you. They were both tired, checking in on Sawyer last night a little, making sure that he was still breathing. Y/n spent the night, like she always does. Rarely does she leave the Styles home these days.

Y/n whips up some dinner for them, earlier than they would normally, but they all need their sleep. After they’ve all filled their bellies with a sufficient amount of pasta Harry gives Sawyer a bath while Y/n cleans up their dishes.

“Daddy, I want Y/n to pick out my pajamas.”

Harry pauses drying off his son, pleasantly surprised by his request. Sawyer likes Y/n, more than most, but the bond that the father and son had was tough to ever beat. Anything that he could get from his father, that’s the way he wanted it.

“Y/n, you’re being requested.” Harry yells just loud enough for her to hear downstairs.

“What can I do for my boys.” She leans against the doorway to the bathroom, a smile on her face.

Harry gives his boy a nudge to ask her himself.

“Will you pick out my pajamas tonight?”

“I would love to.” Y/n grins, “Lets go little man.”

Harry watches from the floor as they take off together for Sawyer’s room. He listens to them talk softly in the next room for a while before he drains the tub and puts away all of the toys. Once he’s cleaned up a bit he comes in to see Sawyer tucked in his bed, Y/n sitting on the edge. She’s just given him his night medication to help him sleep.

“Goodnight, Soy.” She presses a kiss to his forehead, Sawyer smiling at his nickname.

She gets up from the bed and notices Harry watching them from the doorway. She pats him on the shoulder as she walks out, giving them space to talk a little and say goodnight to each other. By the time Harry comes back to their room Y/n is sitting up against the headboard, rubbing in a lotion over her arms.

“Is he out?” She asks, looking up.

“Yeah, I think that medicine knocked him out. I just hope he can sleep through the night tonight.” Harry sighs, he lets himself fall on the bed. Y/n reaches out a hand to lightly rub his back. They stay like that for a few minutes until Harry gets up to turn off the lights and take off his clothes to sleep. The pair fall asleep almost as soon as their heads hit the pillow.

It’s a few hours later when Harry can hear a soft voice, it’s enough to pull him out of his deep sleep and open his eyes. The door to his bedroom is open and the light is on in the hall.

“Daddy.” Sawyer whispers, grabbing his attention, Harry looks down to see his son standing at the edge of his bed.

“Hey, what’re you doing up?” Harry sits up, wiping at his eyes.

“My throat hurts.” Sawyer barks out a few coughs.

“Alright, let's get you some more medicine.” Harry checks the time to make sure he can give him another dose before grabbing it off of his night stand.

“Can I lay with Y/n?” Sawyer asks after having taken his medicine and drinking some more water. His request shocks Harry, but he couldn’t blame the boy for wanting to crawl right in bed with them while feeling ill.

“She’s asleep right now, could you settle for me?”

Slowly tears start to fill Sawyer’s eyes. Not that he doesn’t have love for his father, but with feeling sick all he wants is to be in her arms. No one could tell you why, but something about being in Y/n’s arms had a powerful calm to them.  

Harry looks over to see his girlfriend sleeping peacefully next to him. Sawyer simply raises his arms to be lifted into the bed which Harry obliges. Sawyer crawls over Harry’s lap and lads on the edge of Y/n’s hair making Harry wince.

“Y/n.” Sawyer whispers loudly.

She stirs and turns over to face them, surprised to be face to face with the little three year old rather than her own boyfriend.

“Hi lovey, how’re you feeling?” She asks, walking up a little more with each second so she can look at the teary eyed boy. He looks exhausted and it breaks Y/n’s heart.

“Hold me?” Sawyer asks simply.

Y/n lifts up the covers and opens her arms for him. She doesn’t even flinch as he openly coughs into her neck where he settles his head. Y/n lays on her back and wraps her arms around the boy, pulling the covers back up over them.

She rubs her hand up and down his small back, finally looking over to see Harry watching them.

“Did you give him some more meds?” Y/n asks softly, Harry nods and settles back in a little. It looks like this is how they’re staying for the night.

Every once in a while Sawyer coughs to break the silence in the room, Y/n never stops slowly rubbing his back. Or pushing the curls off of his forehead to press a soft kiss. She’s kicked off their blanket, growing too hot under all the close contact but never wavering in holding his son. Harry’s heart is nearly bursting at the seams at the sight.

“Marry me.” Harry’s voice a whisper soft enough just for him and Y/n to hear. He had been thinking about it all night, not to mention the weeks or months that he’s known her. Tonight has only confirmed what he already knew. Y/n looks over at him, noticing that he hasn’t changed positions and stays on his side to watch over his two favorite people.

“We don’t even live together.” She laughs, not taking his words for more than anything other than a lack of sleep.

“You take up over half of my closet now, love. You check back in on your apartment once a month practically to restock. Sawyer thinks you live here.” Harry looks down at his boy who he knows for a fact, if tonight has proven anything, it’s that he wants Y/n to be just as much a part of his life as Harry.

“Are you crazy?” Y/n turns to fully look at him now, taking in how serious he is being. It’s only been a few months, he can’t be serious.

“Y/n I could’ve proposed the moment you walked through my mother’s front door. I knew then and she knew before we even met.” Harry reaches out to tuck a strand back off her forehead behind her ear, “Will you marry me?”

“Yes, even once you take it back in the morning once you’re no longer suffering from sleep deprivation.” She teases, still running her hand over Sawyer‘s back.

“Stay right there.” Harry throws off the covers, careful to not wake up Sawyer.

Y/n’s eyes follow him as he walks over to his dresser and digs around in the drawer closest to the bottom. She’s beyond confused until he lets out a soft cheer and comes back to the bed. A small black velvet box in hand.

Now Y/n realizes how very serious he is being. She didn’t think Harry would throw marriage around lightly, but they haven’t been together long. She would be lying if she didn’t say that she pictured the rest of her life with these boys.

A little black box which she’s ninety percent sure doesn’t contain earrings.

“I bought this with my Mum after our third real date. Before I even asked you to be my girl technically, I was afraid to jump the gun. So instead I made an investment, I didn’t know when, but I knew someday you would get this ring. I knew it then as much as I know it now that we are meant to be.”

He pauses to clear his throat, “Y/n let me ask one more time, will you marry me?”

“Yes.” She sighs happily, Harry kneels on the bed, crawling back over to her. She finally pulls her hand away from Sawyer so he could slide the ring on.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” She shifts a little more so her and Sawyer are a little more tucked into Harry’s side. All three of them cuddled up together.

“S’pretty.” She holds out her hand, looking at it shine in the moonlight.

“Picked it just for you.”

Slowly after that they all manage to drift off to sleep once again. Harry couldn’t wipe the grin off his face even if he wanted to. They manage to sleep in until late morning, finally Sawyer ends up stepping on Harry, successfully waking him up.

“I want breakfast.” Sawyer says.

“Alright let's go.” He pulls him off the bed and they make their way down to the kitchen. Harry has managed to make pancakes, eggs, and fresh orange juice by the time Y/n makes it downstairs.

“You want to take this back?” She holds up her hand to show off the large ring that now adorns it.

“Not even slightly, do you?” He looks back to her across the kitchen island.

She shakes her head, a wide smile now gracing her face. She walks over and presses a long kiss against his lips. She had been afraid that it was all a dream. It couldn’t be real that she could be this lucky to be asked into such a blessing of a family.

“Y/n!” Sawyer yells loudly from his chair at the table, “Guess what?”

“What?” She asks back with just as much enthusiasm, breaking away from her little bubble of Harry.

“You have healing hands!” He grins showing off his teeth.

“I do?” She walks over to sit beside him.

“Yeah, I don’t even feel sick anymore! Isn’t that right, Dad?”

“I think it is, buddy.” Harry smiles, bringing over a plate to Y/n.

“Really? And we’re sure that the medicine didn’t have anything to do with it?” She looks around at the boys. Giving Harry a smirk.

“NO!” Sawyer quickly shuts down, “I didn’t feel better until I came to sleep with you guys.”

“Ahh, healing hands it is then.” Y/n presses a kiss to the top of his head as she gets up to trade in her orange juice for some coffee.

Anne and Gemma let themselves in, eager to check in on their favorite grandson/nephew and see how he’s doing.

“Good morning!” All heads snap in the direction to see who’s arrived.

“Grandma!” Sawyer gets off his chair to race over to them, “Auntie Gem!”

“How are you feeling, love?” Anne asks, kneeling down to his height.

“I’m all better!” He cheers, causing everyone to laugh at his enthusiasm.

“You’re all better?” Gemma asks, stealing a hug from the boy.

“Yeah, and guess what! Y/n has healing hands!” He answers before giving anyone the chance to answer, not that ‘healing hands’ would’ve been at the top of the list.

“Does she now?” Anne asks, walking over to the table to join us.

“Yeah, you have to feel them!” Sawyer insists, “She gives the best hugs too.”

“Oi, what about my hugs?” Harry interrupts, grabbing his son to tickle his sides. Laughter filling the entire room.

“I think I need one of those hugs.” Anne laughs.

Y/n happily gets up from her spot to pull Anne in for a hug. She could hug this woman forever, being a second mom to her truly and the sole reason she met the love of her life.

“I think I know what you mean, Sawyer. She’s got some magic in her.”

“Let me see those healing hands.” Gemma teases, coming over.

I roll my eyes before holding out my hands for her. Gemma just as easily becoming a hugely important part of Y/n’s life.

“Holy shit.” She mutters, taking Y/n’s left hand in hers.

“Language, Gemma.” Anne says, reminding her off the impressionable three year old two feet away. “I swear sometimes you forget who you’re with-”

“When did you two get engaged?”

[luminescencefics]

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***

The Backstory

September 2006

In Nora Priestley’s fourteen years of life, she’s never lived this far away from the ocean before. It’s always been just right outside her window, a quick ten-minute trek from Thames Street until she reached the rolling dunes of Rejects Beach. Smelling the salt in her hair and feeling her skin grow sticky from the feeling of the ocean air was practically second-nature to her, but ever since she moved to the middle of nowhere Connecticut for boarding school, she’s never felt more disconnected from normality in her life.

Nora’s never really been a big fan of embracing change. She’d like to blame that on the fact that she’s never really had any monumental shifts to her tectonic plates so far in her short life, and she’s not quite sure if that’s a blessing or a curse.

It’s always been just her and her mom. A dynamic duo. A tag team of epic proportions. 

Growing up in Newport, Rhode Island could be worse, Nora thinks. She was lucky enough to grow up in a small coastal town where everybody accepted her in one way or another. Even though she was much different than the other kids her age, considering she spent most of her time alone while her mother worked, she never felt unhappy. Life was simple. Life was easy.

Nora and her mother, Shannon, lived in a small apartment in a renovated old colonial townhouse at the bottom of Thames Street. It was a third-floor walk-up, and in the heat of the summer when the humidity made the wallpaper begin to curl at the edges of her tiny paisley-coated bedroom, Nora had to sleep with her creaky window open with nothing but a thin sheet to cover her sweat-soaked body, the soft sounds of the rolling waves crashing against the shore lulling her to sleep.

Shannon Priestley was the ultimate leading lady in Nora’s life. She referred to Nora as her perfect mistake, because having a baby the summer she turned eighteen with a boy she thought would be her forever was the very definition of that phrase. But she handled it like she did everything else in her life—with grace and dignity, and nothing but a big gleaming grin on her face that always made Nora and everyone else lucky enough to be around her sunbeam feel that everything would be okay. 

With a one-year-old baby on her hip and a bright and shiny high school diploma under her belt, Shannon found a job listing to be a nanny for the Clemonte’s. Without a second’s deliberation, she packed up her things and moved to the tip of the state to Newport. 

The Clemonte’s were one of the wealthiest families in Newport, hailing from an impressive lineage of old money with an expansive estate of fourteen acres overlooking Ochre Point and the Atlantic Ocean. They were one of those families that named their properties, and when Shannon Priestley first stepped foot inside The Breakers mansion, she knew right then and there that her new bosses had very high expectations for her.

Shannon became the singular nanny to Warren and Jane Clemonte’s baby son, William. He was born three months after Nora, and even though Shannon felt slighted that she had to spend most of her days with another family’s child while her own was being watched by their downstairs neighbor, she promised to split her time evenly. And even though twenty-four hours in a day was never enough for Shannon, she made sure to spend most of it with Nora.

And Nora was always grateful for that. 

The second Nora was old enough to take care of herself, she started going to The Breakers after school so that her mom could walk her home. It was at that very moment when she had her first taste of ostentatious luxury, and from then on it never failed to amaze her. The other half certainly did live differently than Nora and her mother, and stepping foot inside the Clemonte’s mansion made that realization startlingly clear. 

This was when she first met William Clemonte. Nora always knew he existed, considering her mother would sprinkle in small anecdotes about him while doing other mundane tasks. “Willy was very quiet today,” Shannon would tell Nora on their walk home from Ochre Point to Lower Thames. “Mr. and Mrs. Clemonte want Willy to take piano lessons and learn Latin. How on earth is a seven-year-old supposed to handle that?”

To Nora, Willy was somewhat of a fictional character living behind the towering walls of The Breakers. She imagined him being a smaller boy, blonde with blue eyes and wearing some sort of matching ensemble sitting inside the thick walls of his mansion, overlooking the deep cobalt ocean through a grand wall of windows. But when she meets him one afternoon after her first day of second grade, she could not be any more wrong.

Sure, Willy Clemonte was a small boy, but he was by no means shy or scared of her. He took her on a tour through the grand halls of The Breakers, showed her all of the secret passageways built inside the walls from when the mansion was first erected back in the early twentieth century, and shared his brand new toys with her. 

But most importantly, he listened to her. He asked her a million questions about public school, about the world outside of his tall fortress, about the television shows Shannon let Nora watch after dinner, and the different kinds of popular music other kids their age were listening to.

“Wait, so *NSYNC isn’t just Justin Timberlake?” Willy would ask whenever Nora would show him what was inside her portable CD player (which was almost exclusively No Strings Attached until she reached the fourth grade). 

“Oh my god, Willy! *NSYNC is a boyband! Justin is just the best one,” Nora would scold right back, shoving the plastic headphones over his blonde head of hair so that the felt cushions would press against his ear, the vibrating thumps of “Bye Bye Bye” playing through the electronic equipment.

Whenever he would ask her about school, Willy was always shocked to hear how different her experience was from his own. Nora would tell him about the yellow school buses that picked up and dropped off her friends, she would show up to his house afterward wearing jeans and a pink Gap sweatshirt and he was always surprised to learn that kids could wear whatever they wanted during the day, and when she would come over on Fridays and tell him that her mother gave her a dollar for pizza day at lunchtime, Willy wished more and more that he could go to public school with her, too.

While Willy was nothing but sunshine and kindness, Warren Clemonte was the complete opposite. A cold and distant man, stern and grumpy with a perpetual frown on his face, he sent a terrifying chill all the way down to Nora’s bones until they rattled together like a hollow instrument. And one Thursday afternoon when Shannon was busy packing Willy’s bags for the Clemonte’s annual Christmas trip to Aspen, Warren caught his son running around the main hall searching through every nook and cranny for Nora’s impressive hiding spot. It was only once she heard the bellowing yells when she emerged from behind an old armoire in the library, peeking her head around the corner to watch Warren yell at Willy in the echoing hallway.

“What do you think you’re doing, running around when you’ve left your Latin workbook unfinished?” Warren demanded, his low voice bouncing off the thick walls.

“I’m sorry, dad. I was just—”

“—Just what? Playing around and avoiding your responsibilities? How are you supposed to learn anything if you spend all of your time dilly-dallying with that girl, William?”

Willy began to cry then, and before Nora could interfere, her mother was already ten steps ahead of her, entering the main hall and apologizing profusely while her daughter stayed hidden behind the old armoire, watching everything with regretful eyes.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Clemonte. I was just packing for Willy, I didn’t realize he had run off. I’ll make sure it never happens again, sir,” Shannon said, placing a comforting arm around Willy’s shaking shoulders while his father stood barely five feet away, watching his wailing son with lifeless eyes. 

“Please do, Miss Priestley. William does not need any more distractions.” His voice held a clipped finality to it, and when he walked away and Nora appeared from behind the wall to approach Willy who was clutching her mother for dear life, she never understood how his father could just leave his son to fall apart in front of him like that.

That was the last afternoon Nora ever spent at The Breakers. 

Up until four months ago, Nora was almost certain that the entire Clemonte family had forgotten that she existed, and that treacherous afternoon with Willy nearly seven years ago was just a sad memory that could be tarnished for the rest of eternity. But when her mother comes home with a thick black and red folder, the words Townbridge Academy in capital letters splayed against the front page above a golden crest, Nora’s never been more confused in her life.

When she asked her mother what she was doing with a boarding school acceptance letter in her hand that Nora had never heard of before, the answer she received was definitely not what she had expected. Apparently, Mrs. Clemonte found out that Nora was planning on attending the public high school on Broadway Street, and apparently, she believed that she could offer Shannon a lending hand. Nora would like to blame it all on Jane Clemonte’s philanthropic tendencies, but a few phone calls and a faxed copy of Nora’s stellar transcripts later, Nora was appointed a lofty scholarship to attend Townbridge Academy in the fall. 

All things considered, Nora did not want to go. She liked her middle school friends, she liked being her own person, she liked knowing that her mom was only a twenty-minute walk away, and most importantly, she liked not having to be associated with a family like the Clemonte’s. She didn’t want to be seen as a charity case, and accepting the scholarship on Mrs. Clemonte’s behalf to attend a prestigious boarding school like Townbridge Academy was exactly that.

But when her mother sat her down and told her how amazing this opportunity was, and how much Nora could accomplish with a diploma from one of the best schools in the country, Nora couldn’t bring herself to say no. Especially when her mother held her close and whispered in her ear, “God, Nora, you can do all of the things I never could have done,” Nora knew that there was no way she could break her mother’s heart.

Because now, standing in her new dorm room with deep oak walls, a creaky polished hardwood floor, a red ornamental rug that smelled a bit like Warren Clemonte’s cologne, and a small twin bed nestled in the corner underneath a window overlooking the bleak green hills of Connecticut—Nora Priestley wishes she had told her mother no.

Before she can even wallow in her own self-imposed misery, the front door opens revealing an older man carrying a trolley holding a matching six-piece set of luggage. Nora looks down to the singular old leather suitcase she purchased at a surplus store on Spruce Street resting on the floor, comparing it to the monogrammed navy blue set with the gold letters ARW spanning across each piece.

The man begins placing each suitcase onto the floor without uttering a word to a very confused Nora, and suddenly the door opens wider, a pretty girl with strawberry blonde hair floating into the room. She’s wearing a white tennis skirt that rests a few inches above her kneecap, with a powder blue collared shirt cuffed at the wrists. For a brief moment, Nora wonders if her mother purchased the wrong uniform set for her, but when the girl lifts her eyes from her Blackberry and looks over at Nora, she notices a sailor’s crest embroidered on the right side above her chest with more initials, and she begins to breathe a little. 

“Hi! You must be my roommate, I’m Nor—”

“—Where are the rest of your bags?” the girl interrupts, eyeing the old leather suitcase disdainfully. Nora’s fingers immediately fly up to her scalp and begin raking through her blonde hair, a nervous habit she’s tried her hardest to get rid of.

“I have a duffle on the desk chair, too,” Nora explains quietly, removing her hand from her hair so that she can point towards the old wooden desk that holds her mother’s duffle bag.

Nora watches as the girl’s piercing gaze shifts from her two flimsy bags to her outfit. And when Nora watches beady hazel eyes take in her old white tank top, her mom’s grey knit cardigan, thrifted bootcut jeans, and sandals from two summers ago, Nora’s never wanted to disappear more in her life. 

Before she can find the words to speak, Nora hears a shrill “Alyssa!” echo through the hallway, until a matching set of girls wearing nautical-inspired clothing and thick headbands are hugging the strawberry blonde-haired girl who just so obviously judged Nora a few moments ago.

“Who’s this?” one of the girls asks Alyssa, breaking away from their hug and looking over at Nora with interest.

Just as Nora reaches a hand out to introduce herself, Alyssa says, “Doesn’t matter. Let’s go, girls,” and the three girls spin around without even uttering a goodbye. 

Nora watches as they walk down the hallway, giggling the entire way as if they hadn’t singlehandedly just ruined her first official day away from home.

***

October 2006

The first month at boarding school is just a series of Nora playing catch up. While she thought going to public school and hanging out with normal people would be enough to prepare her for high school, three weeks in she’s never felt more lost in her entire life.

She’s one of the only students who doesn’t own a cellphone, she wears second-hand Sperry’s instead of fancy loafers with gold links on the front, her backpack is a maroon Jansport while most students opted for leather messenger bags, and when people ask her how she spent her summer, she’s gotten used to the wide-eyed look they give her when she explains that she scooped ice cream near the beach for tips.

Nora’s not naive. She knows that she’s referred to as The Scholarship Girl behind her back, she knows that Alyssa complains to her elitist friends about how dreadful it is to be forced to room with a girl who wears hand-me-down clothing, and she knows that adjusting to life at Townbridge was going to be the very definition of arduous. 

But she remembers what her mother told her—how Nora’s skin is thicker than she thinks, and no matter how different she is to everybody else, she’s still just as deserving of a top-notch education. 

Even though Nora was at the top of her class for most of her life, she still felt far behind the rest of her classmates at Townbridge. She spends the first few weeks getting very acquainted with the walls of the library, making the nearly twenty-minute trek from her dorm in Emerson Hall to Millikan Library across campus. Classes have only just begun, but Nora can’t afford to fall any more behind than she already has. So instead of making friends and signing up for various clubs and sports teams, Nora’s allowed her backside to practically mold into the stiff wooden chairs inside the empty library.

Nora would have completely forgotten about the First Year Mixer being held that evening if not for Alyssa and her friends getting ready in her dorm room. When she walks in still wearing her uniform well after classes have ended for the day, the three girls look at her as if she were crazy.

“Did you forget about the mixer tonight, Nora?” Grace, one of the twins, asks with a shocked expression decorating her pretty face. All three girls are wearing colorful Lilly Pulitzer dresses, passing along mascara and eyeshadow amongst themselves in preparation for tonight.

“Uh, no I was just—”

“—Making friends with the books again?” Alyssa sneers, earning a giggle from the girls.

Nora chooses not to respond. It’s just easier that way.

Walking over to her wardrobe, Nora sorts through her limited selection of clothing to find something appropriate to wear for tonight. She didn’t even want to be in attendance, but she’s figured that she’s probably spent enough time on her own, and that maybe, in the off chance that Townbridge has some normal students, she can make a friend or two.

The only two dresses she brought with her were a simple long-sleeved cream sweater dress that fell just above her knees, and a thin summer dress her mother bought her two years ago that was tighter and fell around mid-thigh. She goes with the sweater dress, deeming it the best outfit she has to just simply blend in. Once it’s over her head, she reaches for her thigh-high socks and brown boots she got as a graduation gift, slipping them on quickly. October has left a brisk chill in the nighttime air, and considering her jackets consisted of a worn-in winter parka and an oversized flannel she scored at Goodwill, Nora thinks this combination will be more than fine.

She reaches for the comb on her desk and begins to rake it through her knotted hair, smoothing out the kinks and leaving the strands to fall in their messy, wavy natural state. Just as she’s digging through her backpack to try and find her lip balm and mascara, she can’t help but overhear Alyssa gossiping to Grace and Erin loudly from across the room.

“Harry’s plane landed a few hours ago,” Alyssa gushes, plucking the blush from Grace’s hands and beginning to apply it to the apples of her cheeks.

“Oh my God, no way! You must be so excited, Lyss!” Erin squeaks, reaching for the lipgloss that Alyssa just used. Before she can even remove the lid, Alyssa swats at her wrists and tells her to pick another color.

“Have you been texting all summer?” Grace asks from behind the vanity.

Alyssa nods, readjusting her freshly curled hair. “Ever since he left the Hamptons in July, yeah. We’ve been messaging back and forth. He told me he can’t wait to see me tonight.”

“That’s so romantic, Lyss!” Erin says, and Nora tries her hardest not to roll her eyes. “I can’t believe they let him miss the first three weeks of school.”

“He’s Harry Styles, Erin,” Grace chides, turning to face her sister with slanted eyes. “He can do whatever he wants.”

Nora twists the mascara wand back into the tube before backing away from her desk, double-checking her outfit to make sure that it was suitable enough. Just as she gives her hair one last fluff, she hears Alyssa ask, “Are you really not going to do anything with your hair?”

Nora turns towards her with a sheepish look, shrugging her shoulders. “I don’t own any styling tools so…” she lets the words fall from her mouth, watching the three girls in front of her look at her as if she had a second head growing out of her neck.

“You’ve never straightened your hair?! I’m sure Alyssa will let you borrow—”

“—Erin! Enough. Let’s go, we’re going to be late,” Alyssa scolds, ending the conversation abruptly. Before Nora can even shoot a smile in Erin’s direction, the three girls are already out the door, leaving Nora to walk to the Great Hall by herself. 

The problem with spending all of her time walking from her dorm to the lecture halls on East Campus to Millikan Library is that she seemingly forgot where every other building was. Trying to locate the Great Hall in daylight was already difficult for Nora, but now with the sun practically set behind the horizon and her sense of direction completely shit, she starts panicking when she’s walked by the dining hall for the third time.

An upperclassman saves Nora before she can have a full-blown panic attack in the middle of the quad, and with two minutes to spare, Nora finds a row with a few empty seats towards the back of the room. 

Nobody seems to have noticed her, save for the girls in the row in front of her who turn around when Nora’s boots jostle their chairs. She offers them a muffled apology, and just as quickly as they turned around to look at her, they swivel their necks to face the front again.

Nora sighs to herself, before lifting her head to hear the Headmaster begin his speech. After listening to him drawl about the mission statement and his expectations for the first-year students, Nora immediately wishes she never left her dorm room. She can feel her eyes begin to droop, and before her body can slump further down into her chair, the sound of a heavy oak door closing echoes throughout the Great Hall, and Nora feels her body springing upwards.

Headmaster Clayton pauses in his monotonous ramblings, and before the entire collection of students in front of Nora can turn around to see what the interruption was, a long body falls into the chair next to hers, and the Headmaster resumes his speech as if nothing ever happened. 

“Did I miss anything?” an impossibly British voice whispers in Nora’s direction, and she’s a bit surprised by the low timbre of it. She looks over at him and finds herself staring into green pools with a golden shimmer surrounding his irises. Nora’s never been captivated by a boy before—but the one sitting next to her with fluffy chocolate curls falling over his forehead, surrounding his ears, and ending at the nape of his neck might possibly be the first. His hands are shoved inside the pockets of an expensive-looking black trench coat, and his upper body is leaning towards hers as he awaits her response. When Nora notices his pink lips forming into a small smirk, she’s almost positive that she’s been caught staring at this boy for far too long.

“Uh, no. Not really,” she whispers back, scrutinizing the way her voice squeaked at the beginning of her sentence.

His smirk shifts into a full-blown grin, and Nora can feel her cheeks begin to burn. “Hm, sounds like somebody wasn’t paying attention in the first place.”

Before Nora can retort, the boy near her chuckles softly at her nervous expression. “Can’t say I blame you, love. Clayton’s a fucking fossil.”

Nora giggles, causing the girls in front of her to turn around again with a murderous expression on their faces. She stops abruptly, and after they’ve snapped their heads forward for the second time, she looks over to the boy on her left and finds him trying his hardest to stifle another chuckle.

He shifts his body so he’s no longer leaning in Nora’s direction, and she’s a bit saddened by the sudden distance between them both. 

Nora replays the interaction in her inexperienced, fourteen-year-old mind, wondering if the boy near her was just flirting with her. There’s no denying that she thinks he’s cute, considering she finds herself sneaking looks at him every few minutes during the duration of Headmaster Clayton’s speech just to get another glimpse of his soft hair and sunken dimples. And on more than one occasion, he catches her in his periphery, shooting her that charming smirk that never fails to make her cheeks blush. 

The moment Headmaster Clayton wraps up his speech and the rest of the students begin to stand, Nora turns towards the boy and finds that he’s already looking at her. Now that they’ve exited their row, Nora notices how tall he is, taking in his long legs clad in black denim, his even longer torso in a similar black shirt. The all-dark ensemble somehow makes him look older. Makes him look mysterious. Makes him look even more handsome—and suddenly Nora’s grown a bit nervous.

“I’m Nora, by the way,” she says, sticking her hand out for him to shake. He hesitates, looking between her face and her outstretched hand with a smile on his face, finding it incredibly cute that a girl his age would greet him so formally. 

Just before his hand can fall into hers, another hand claps him on the shoulder and he’s forced to look at the intrusion, his own arm falling back to his side. “Harry, my man! How was the flight?”

When Nora looks over his shoulder, she notices two boys greeting him warmly. She hasn’t really met anybody at Townbridge aside from Alyssa, Grace, and Erin, so she’s not surprised when she doesn’t recognize the two other boys infiltrating their small bubble.

But upon further inspection, Nora realizes that she does, in fact, recognize one of them.

Standing directly in her line of vision is none other than Willy Clemonte. Although it’s been seven years since Nora last saw him, there’s no denying that the sandy-haired, blue-eyed teenager in front of her is him. He’s practically almost the same height as his father now, towering over Nora in his khaki pants and a white cable-knit sweater. His hair still tangles in his eyelashes and his cheeks are still dusted with freckles, and Nora’s stunned at the sudden rush of memories that flood her insides.

He seems to have made the same startling realization as Nora did, because his eyes begin to widen almost comically, and a strained expression falls over his features. Before they can give away that they’ve been staring at each other, the boy from before, now known to Nora as Harry, spins around on his heels and gives her a small smile.

“Nora, right?” he asks, and she nods hesitantly. “Where are you from?”

“Uh, Newport,” Nora answers.

“Oh, wicked! So you must know Will, then?” Harry asks, seemingly oblivious to the awkward tension radiating from the two of them. 

Before she can respond, Will clears his throat and takes a step forward. With one last panicked look at Nora, he tells Harry, “Yeah, man. Her mom was one of our maids.”

“Wait, what?” Harry asks, confusion written all over his face. Nora’s surprised that she can hear it over the sound of her breath leaving her lungs from Willy’s comment. Sure, she knew that the last time they saw each other he was crying into her mother’s arms over a remark his father said, and sure, she didn’t expect them to resume their friendship as if nothing had happened.

But to blatantly lie about Nora’s mother, a woman who took care of him for years? Nora never thought that he would grow up to be so cruel. 

To twist the knife lodged into her chest even further, Alyssa and the twins approach the group with annoyed looks, all aimed in Nora’s direction. They seem to have overheard Willy’s previous comment, and before Nora can even defend herself, Alyssa reaches out and wraps her hand around Harry’s forearm as if she were claiming him in front of everybody.

“Yeah, apparently Townbridge is letting just about anybody in this year. Just ignore her, Harry, we all have been,” she says, her tone nothing but dismissive. 

Nora watches as Harry shifts his gaze from Alyssa to her. His green eyes fall down her body, and for the first time, he notices the loose thread at the hemline of her dress from overwear, the tear in her socks behind the knee, her brown boots that lack the distinction of a designer label. With one last look at her, he takes a step back, and Nora knows right then and there that she’s been condemned as an outsider. 

“C’mon Harry, tell us all about the rest of your summer in France! I want to hear all about it,” Alyssa enthuses, and without a second look, the group turns around and leaves Nora staring after them.

No matter how attractive she finds Harry, there’s no denying that his personality is undeniably ugly. And as she watches him wrap an arm around Alyssa’s shoulder, Nora thinks it’s quite fitting that they’ve both found each other.  

***

November 2007

Summer has always been Nora’s favorite season (living permanently near the ocean sort of makes that inevitable), but that summer after her first year, Nora’s never been more excited to be home. She missed her mom, she missed the beach, and she missed her normal friends who didn’t care that she wore sandals that were falling apart and shorts that were fraying at the edges.

When Nora came back from school, she begged her mother not to send her back to Townbridge for her second year. She told her how she couldn’t make friends, how everybody made her feel like a social pariah, and how she was absolutely miserable being so far away from her. 

“Oh, Nora baby,” her mother said, holding her close. “You know exactly who you are. You’re strong, you’re beautiful, you’re intelligent—and you’re so much better than those kids who make you feel like you aren’t.”

“You don’t understand, mom,” Nora said through hiccups, wet tears soaking her cheeks, “They hate me. All of them. They never even gave me a chance.”

“Everybody?” her mother asked. And when Nora just stared at her with her lower lip trembling, Shannon combed her fingers through Nora’s blonde hair comfortingly. “I’m sure there are people at Townbridge who are just like you. I just don’t think you’ve tried to find them yet.”

Even though she didn’t want to admit it, Nora knew that her mother was right. So after another summer filled with scooping ice cream for tips and spending every second of her days off at the beach reading romance novel after romance novel, Nora packed up her things for the second time—this time with another suitcase—and set off for Connecticut with higher hopes for her second year.

Things seemed to be turning around for her when she discovered that her roommate was no longer Alyssa Whalen. Instead, it was a girl named Lydia who lived a few towns over in Madison by the beach, just like Nora. They bonded instantly over their shared love of having sea-knotted hair and the feeling of having sand squished between your toes and letting your fingers wrinkle from wading through the briny water for too long. And when Lydia encourages Nora to sign up for the swim team with her, Nora’s grateful that she’s finally found a friend in this hellhole. 

Her second year is leagues better than her first, considering in the first three months, she barely had to cross paths with Alyssa and Harry. On the rare instances that they do run into each other, they simply ignore the other’s existence, and Nora doesn’t mind it one bit. It’s just easier that way, she supposes.

Halfway through Nora’s swim season, she turns sixteen and discovers that everybody around her is getting their license. Lydia’s parents bought her a used 2005 Honda Civic when she passed her driver’s test, and when she told Nora that she could use it whenever she needed, Nora felt bad lying to her new friend. Because once again she was playing catch up, getting her learner’s permit over the summer when everybody was already scheduling their exam, and with the way things were going, Nora wouldn’t be able to get her license until she was home again for summer break.

She also didn’t want to admit to Lydia that she couldn’t afford a car, and that her mother would never allow Nora to take her 1997 Toyota Corolla to campus. 

After swim practice one November afternoon, Nora leaves the Athletic Center with wet hair to head back to her dorm in Donahue Hall completely across campus. Normally, Nora walks with Lydia, but since it’s Friday and students who live in-state with a license are allowed to leave campus for the weekend, Nora’s forced to make the twenty-minute journey alone. 

With her gym bag slung over her shoulder, Nora begins to walk through the parking lot to head towards the footpath that will bring her through campus. The sky is awfully dark for four in the afternoon, and when she looks up and notices the menacing grey clouds, she kicks herself for not packing her umbrella before she left her room this morning.

Just as she’s almost in the clear, she hears a familiar giggle that makes her skin crawl. Living with Alyssa for one excruciating year has allowed Nora to recognize that sound almost immediately, and sheepishly she tucks her chin deeper into the neckline of her jacket, praying that her face is hidden as she walks past the group. 

When Nora reaches inside her half-zipped gym bag for her water bottle, she swears to herself when the strap detaches from the siding and the nylon bag falls to the cement. Making sure everything is strapped appropriately, she heaves the bag over her shoulder once it’s zipped up. As she swings her elbow to place the bag comfortably around her body, she doesn’t take into account her proximity to a particularly shiny black SUV—and just before she can escape the parking lot undetected, her bag smashes against the hood of the car, causing the headlights to flicker on and off and the alarm to blare piercingly through the space. 

“Hey!” Nora hears from behind her. When she turns she sees Harry jogging towards her, his brown hair dripping from the shower he just took. He’s wearing joggers and a Townbridge Academy Soccer sweatshirt, and when he reaches inside his pocket and reveals a shiny key fob, Nora swears for the second time knowing that the fancy car she just accidentally hit belonged to him.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” His voice is booming through the parking lot and it’s enough to make Nora feel incredibly small. When he finally presses the alarm button on his key and the blaring stops, she can hear his exasperated breaths in its place, and she’s not quite sure what’s worse.

“I didn’t mean to—”

“—I saw the whole thing, Harry!” Alyssa calls over from her spot across the cement, walking towards the pair of them with an accusatory finger extended in Nora’s direction. “She slammed her gym bag against your car.”

“It was an accident!” Nora screeches, feeling her face turning red. “My bag strap fell off and when I went to put it back on my shoulder, I bumped your car. Not, er, intentionally.”

Harry looks between the two girls with an annoyed expression on his face. “Just be more careful, yeah? It’s brand new.”

When Nora looks at the behemoth of a vehicle to her left, observing the shiny black exterior with the words Range Rover written across the front in chrome lettering, she can only imagine the outrageous price tag it has. Which is why she nods, apologizing one last time.

“Won’t happen again.” Nora begins to turn around on her heel, just as the air begins to get cooler and the slightest smell of rain can be detected in the distance.

“You’re walking all the way to Donahue in the rain?” Harry asks suddenly, and Nora begins to wonder how he even knows she lives in that building. She pauses, thinking if he or Alyssa or any one of their stupid friends lives in Donahue, and when she comes up with nothing, she turns around with a confused expression on her face.

“Uh, yeah. I don’t have a car.” Before she can feel the first drop of rain hit her skin, laughter erupts from the small group surrounding Harry and his car. Nora hides her face, wishing the ground would swallow her up. 

With one last gulp, Nora turns around and begins walking towards the footpath, shoving the hood of her flimsy rain jacket over her head. 

“Well, at least your hair is already wet!” Nora hears Alyssa call out from behind her, with more laughter following until Nora’s a safe distance away from where she can no longer be scrutinized by Harry and his rude friends.

As Nora reaches Donahue Hall with her tracksuit bottoms sticking to her legs like a second skin and her jacket completely drenched, all she can think about is how she’d rather walk another ten miles before ever having another conversation with Alyssa Whalen and Harry Styles if her life fucking depended on it.

***

A/N: Here’s chapter two! We’ve finally met Harry and Alyssa (yikes), so feel free to share with me your thoughts and predictions for the next part! High school is a funny time period to write about, and I’m excited to share the next part with you all. Look out for it on Friday, February 19th, which will be the normal update schedule. Until then, stay safe! x

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[americanmoths]

inappropriate funeral questions

prompt: haunt me in the night | tw: discussions of dying, MCD | 1.5k lmao | on ao3

--

“Potter,” Draco says at the reception to Goyle’s funeral. “How is it you look exactly the same as the last time I saw you. That was almost 3 years ago.”

Andromeda Tonks’ funeral. Draco wore a black dress.

“Good skincare.” The same answer he gives Hermione. A joke so he doesn’t have to form an opinion on his complete lack of outward signs of aging over the past 5 years.

Draco steps closer and takes his hand. Studies it. Turns it over in his own hand, gentle, focused. Harry swallows.

“You’re unnaturally warm.” Draco points his wand at Harry. “Avada Kedavra.”

Then, nothing. And then, Draco.

“You came back.”

Harry shrugs. It’s not as though this is the first time.

“This is not the time and place to discuss any of this. How about my place, tonight? I’ll give you my address. Bring wine,” Draco says.

“Are you, err, asking me on a date?”

“No, I’m asking you on a secret rendezvous to discuss the bizarre set of circumstances we’ve both found ourselves in.”

“But there will be wine.”

“Yes, Potter! Because we’re adults. Because despite the fact that I look 19, I’m actually 25 and thus will drink as much wine as I want whether on a date or not!”

“You know you look the same as you did 3 years ago too!” Harry calls after Draco as he walks away.

—

“Do you think I’m a bad son for leaving early?” Draco asks at what would be the reception to Narcissa’s funeral. He had left halfway through the ceremony, apparently to raid the communion wine stash and drink alone in the church basement.

“I think you’re grieving. It’s not as though your mom will know you left.”

“Don’t say that,” Draco says. “Don’t say that. She’s not gone. She’s just … somewhere else.”

“Whatever you say, Draco.”

Draco scowls. “No, not whatever I say. Don’t placate me.”

He aims his wand at Harry. A green flash.

Then, nothing. Then, Draco, looking almost sheepish.

“Sorry, I know you asked me to warn you, but I’m drunk, and it’s my mother’s funeral. I’m allowed to forget things.” Draco sighs. “I like that you come back. That we come back. Because if you can come back, then that means that she can come back, wherever she is. It means the matter preserves itself. It means —”

Harry’s heard what it means several times before. Draco’s fond of this particular speech — it staves off Draco's fear of death, Harry suspects. Harry doesn’t understand most of the points Draco makes, but he listens anyways. Draco’s mind moves faster than his does — than anyone’s does, probably. He’s the one that figured out the Fiendfyre hadn’t died as much as it had escaped. It burns still, inside the two people who spent the longest time zig-zagging through its flames. It preserves the two of them. Prevents them from dying.

Keeps them so warm, he thinks as he runs his fingers up and down Draco’s shoulder. He can feel the fire trapped there, still burning inside lovely, grieving, drunk Draco who sighs again and says, “Sometimes when I look at you, I can’t figure out if what I feel for you is real or if it’s because you represent the possibility of seeing everyone I ever love again.”

“What you … feel for me?”

“Yes. The — you know, pseudoscientific ‘heart-opening’ feeling.”

“Errrrr …”

“Don’t worry about it,” Draco says. “I’ll tell you when I figure it out.”

He sighs with his whole body, his head landing in Harry’s lap. “I think I’d like it if you stroked my hair.”

Harry does. He feels warm. He feels good. He feels as though he’ll wait forever for this dumb-ass intellectual to figure out the pseudoscientific heart-opening feeling is love.

—

“Do you think I look different now that I’m an orphan?” Draco asks after Lucius’ funeral.

“Oh, yes, you look more handsome. All orphans are handsome didn’t you know?” Harry says. “It’s my honor to welcome you to our elite and exclusive club.”

Draco snorts and finishes off a second bottle of wine. “I keep on thinking about all the things he hated about me and how I’ve doubled down on them. Like animals, he hated animals and I have a crup, a dog and a phoenix. And he always told me I overthink things, and now I’m an academic. Kissing boys, also a no, no.”

Harry doesn’t want to think about Draco kissing other boys. Not when he has yet to kiss him.

“Being immortal, that’s a thing I’m sure he wouldn’t approve of,” Harry says.

“Definitely. I’m sure he hates that I outlived him. Well, sort of outlived him,” Draco waves his hand. “I don’t want to think about whatever happens on the other side right now; I’m in too good of a mood. Dancing! He would’ve hated that I dance.”

“I didn’t know you dance.”

“Of course I can dance. Here. Let me show you,” he pulls Harry snug against him, casts a music spell. Harry doesn’t recognize the song, or the dance, but he recognizes the desire in the other boy’s eyes.

“I want to kiss you,” Draco says.

“I know you do,” Harry leans toward Draco, wet heat against wet heat; a fire that burns forever, greeting itself.

Time restarts. When Harry pulls back, Draco’s 29. As old as he’s supposed to be.

—

“Why did you come?” Draco spits at the reception to his ex-lover’s funeral. Tim? Ted? Travis? Harry never learned his name out of spite.

“I wanted to see you.”

“That’s massively inappropriate.”

“I’m supporting a friend. I know how you get at funerals.” Drunk.

“I’m fine. It was cancer; it wasn’t as though it was a surprise. He was in a lot of pain. He wanted to go.” Draco sighs. “We used to argue about that all the time. I was smarter than Toby, but he was much better at arguing, so when we really got going, we could go for days. It’s been so quiet now that he’s — wherever he is. I think I’m scared of being alone. I think I’ve had a little too much wine.”

“You don’t have to be alone, you know. I’m not saying we have to do anything, but you don’t have to be alone.”

“I can’t. Every time I see you, I want to kiss you, but if I kiss you, then it’ll restart our clocks. It’ll kill us, and I’m more scared of dying than I am of being alone.”

“I know you are.”

“How come you’re not?”

“I trust you to do the thinking for the both of us. Sorry, is that unfair? It’s not as though I can keep up with you in the thinking department anyways. I trust you, and you said there’s a flip-side, that we’re proof that there’s a flip-side. Which means all there is is just somewhere else I get to explore with you.”

Draco leans down and kisses his hand. Harry feels the burn pass from Draco to him, feels the fire inside him dim. He gets older by two year, three.

But he feels it more when Draco walks away.

—

“Have you ever seen a phoenix die?” Draco asks at what Harry guesses is supposed to be a funeral for his pet phoenix, Kelvin. He’s sitting in his favorite armchair, dressed in black, still as 29 as when Harry kissed him 29 almost 70 years ago. Kelvin died, please come, that’s all his owl had said.

“No?” Harry says.

“I expected as much. Obviously, die isn’t the right word. Metamorphosis, that’s the word I’ve decided fits best. Because obviously, he’s here still.” Draco indicates the flaming baby bird sitting in a ring of ash on the corner of the armchair. “But his memories were erased, and that’s a kind of death. Kelvin was old for a phoenix — I think he was holding out for me, and he finally realized that I had no intention of going. But it was his time. I watched, out of respect. It was … beautiful. He looked so relieved. As though, finally, he could rest.”

“Errrr you know actually I think maybe I did see that. With Fawkes.”

Draco laughs and runs his hand across his face. “I’m trying to make a segue, you know. To tell you I’m ready. I thought if I was poetic about the whole thing It’d make me less scared, but it didn’t. I’m still scared.”

“I know you are.” Harry says and pulls Draco close to him. Draco rests his head against Harry’s chest. “It’s ok. We’ll be together.”

He slides two fingers under Draco’s chin, angles it up to his face. Waits for Draco to be ready. The longest moment of Harry’s very long life.

Draco looks as though he has something he wants to say, but he never speaks. He leans forward and kisses Harry.

All of the years come at once. 29; 39; 49. His back hurts; his legs ache; he feels comfortable in his body in a way his youth never allowed. 59; 69; 79, on. Two old men, falling into inevitability. Reaching together for what’s next.

There’s Draco, and Draco, and only Draco. And then nothing at all.

[epicfangirl01]

Random HCs of The Bois™️ Finding Out About AFAB!MC's Period

Honestly, I'm only writing this because of Mammon's reaction that popped into my head, and I wanted to see how the others would react. Also, these are on the basis that you and the brother are dating a couple months after your arrival.

TW: 18+ because some of the brothers are needy af

Lucifer

You knock on Lucifer's door shortly after school, feeling anxious. Your period came in the middle of your final class, when you realized you were out of pads and tampons. As you were in the Devildom, there isn't a stock of supplies for your already miserable week. And the only way to go to the human world was through Lucifer or Diavolo. As much as you love the gentle giant, you would rather talk about the situation with your boyfriend.

Lucifer tells you to come in, and the eldest brother's eyes soften as he glances up at you. His gaze doesn't linger, however, turning back to his stack of paperwork.

"Do you miss me already, MC? The academy bells have just finished ringing." You shift nervously, your period making you feel uncomfortable, before speaking up.

"I do, but that's actually not why I'm here... I need to go to the human world to pick some things u-" Lucifer sighs, scratching the paper with his pen.

"Darling, I'm sorry, but I am very busy. Besides, you just got home from school. You can wait to go on a shopping spree with Mammon and Asmodeus." You step closer, frowning, and you try to explain.

"No, Lucifer, that's not-" Lucifer's eyes narrow in irritation, still glancing at his paperwork, but his words become a firm warning.

"MC, you must finish your homework. You can go shopping this weekend." Your lower stomach twists in pain, cramps rapidly increasing, and you snap.

"Lucifer, my vagina is FUCKING BLEEDING, DAMMIT!!! I need to go to the store!" The demon's eyes widen as he drops his pen, and he looks up at you, surprised.

"I'm sorry, what did you just say...?" Frustration overwhelms you, until you catch the confusion and concern in his eyes.

"In all your years of existence, you haven't heard of a period before???" Lucifer doesn't say anything, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"I really am overworking myself, aren't I? I suppose it's been a while since I've been to the surface...." You shake your head, chuckling, and you relax when Lucifer is finally ready to listen. You take a couple minutes to explain what is happening, and what you need to take care of yourself. When you're finished, Lucifer nods, glad that you will be okay.

"I apologize for my behavior. I will be more supportive in the future. Here, have some money for your errands. Will $100 dollars be sufficient?" (Yes, Luci, yes it is.)

Mammon

You sit down on Mammon's leather couch, shifting to a semi-comfortable position, and enjoying a movie night with your lovable boyfriend. Mammon grabs some blankets for you, before plopping onto the couch. He smiles at you, and holds you close, making sure that you are settled. You watch the movie for a while, enjoying the movie, when you catch a mischievous glint in your boyfriend's eyes.

"Mammon, wha-"

He smiles and pulls you into his lap, gently kissing you neck. You sigh a bit, uncomfortable with sitting in general, but loving his kisses and nips. You didn't expect Mammon's hand to cup your crotch, but you especially didn't expect him to scream in your ear.

"WHERE THE FUCK DID IT GO?!?"

The pissed off side of your brain fumes for a moment, until your eyes meet Mammon's. You burst out laughing at the panic on Mammon's face, realizing that he felt your pad. The demon of greed doesn't appreciate your laughing, feeling genuinely worried for his beloved human. When you calm down, you turn back to him.

"Mammon, I'm fine. It's still there. I'm just.... kinda on my period..."

He looks at you like you grew three heads, and it quickly becomes apparent he has no idea what you're talking about. You take a few minutes to explain, and he listens patiently, but he still continues to panic.

"You're saying you can bleed FOR A WEEK and be fine?!? And you constantly have cramps and migraines? And this happens once a month??? Why the hell didn't you say anything? How can I help my human when you don't say you need me?!"

He carefully sets you down, before bolting of of the couch and out the door. You gape at the doorway for a moment, wondering what Mammon is up to. He returns for a moment, his arms holding a pile of pillows, medicine, pajamas, and snacks.

"Does this help? I got the pillows and pjs from your room, medicine from the bathroom, and I kinda took snacks from Beel's stash under his bed.... But it's fine! I made a note that you'll buy more later."

You shake your head, smiling, and you thank him as he walks over to help you. Once Mammon knows you are comfortable, he sits down beside you. You gently kiss Mammon on the lips, before you lay on your side, resting your head on his lap. The demon blushes, and he pulls the blanket over you. His hands gently stroke your hair, and you watch the movie together until you both fall asleep.

Leviathan

The third born invites you into his room for anime night (every night, lol), and you walk into the room with snacks in you arms. Levi welcomes you in as you set the bags onto his coffee table, before grabbing a couple drinks from his mini fridge.

"Good, you're early! The pilot is about to start!"

You chuckle, happy to spend time with him, and you bend down to place everything on the table. As you do so, your shirt lifts just enough to show a small stain on the back of your pants. Levi's eyes accidentally catch sight of it, resulting in a blush.

"Uh, MC? You have a s-stain on your pants..." You turn and look down at your legs, turning to try to find what he's talking about, but you can't see it.

"I can't find it. I'll just wash it off when I get back to my room." The demon tenses and shakes his head, trying to think of the least awkward words to say.

"No, no! I-I mean, you have a blood stain. Y-your period kinda started...."

Your eyes widen at his words, and you look in the reflection of his glass aquarium, cursing at the stain. You hadn't noticed this time, the monthly curse being subtle throughout your busy afternoon. You start to apologize to Levi, when he shakes his head.

"It's not your fault. I-it's fine. I just... I know it might be weird that I know about it. I found out from a high school anime. In the episode, the protagonist goes on their way to school, getting bullied by the leader of the popular girls, and the bully turns away but the protagonist stops her because of a stain, and despite being enemies, the protagonist is kind and knows how she feels, so they take her to the bathroom and helps her clean up... And I- I know it probably sounds weird or creepy for someone to watch anime like that, but I thought it was kind and empowering, an-" You stop Levi mid rant, smiling at his anxiousness, and you give him a small hug.

"Thanks, Levi. I appreciate it. It's part of the unspoken period code, ya know? It can be awkward and embarrassing enough, so even just a discreet heads up can be very helpful. Don't worry about it, okay?"

He nods, glad you understand, and he gently hugs you back.

"O-okay. I'll be back, alright? I remember seeing in the episode that it helps to have a hot shower sometimes to ease the cramps and feel less uncomfortable, and that blankets and pjs can help. I guess if you don't mind a loser like me, you could use any blankets or hoodies I have if it makes you feel better..."

You smile and nod, grateful for the demon of envy. He shyly smiles back, and he spends the rest of the night making sure that you're comfortable during the show.

Satan

The library is quiet and warm as you sit at a table with Satan, working on your assignments. You struggle and struggle through a complex spell for your potions class, irritation and fatigue clouding your brain. You are already sore and pissed off from the beginning of your period, but now stress and anger bubbles beneath the surface.

"MC, you have to say it calml-"

You huff, throwing up your hands, and you scowl at the unaffected spell dummy in front of you.

"I know, Satan! I've been calm for the past half hour, and it's still not right! Can you just actually give me some fucking advice for once so I can get this shit over with?!?"

The middle brother looks at you for a moment, stunned, before chuckling.

"I didn't know you could hold so much anger, MC. I'm almost impressed, although, it is very out of character for you... Are you alright?"

A sigh escapes your lips as you awkwardly cross your arms, looking away. You explain that you are just tired, but Satan can hear the hesitation in your voice. The demon of wrath doesn't speak for a moment, thinking about your recent behavior, and everything snaps into place. Satan has read enough books to last an eternity, including ones about human biology. He knows exactly what is happening, and he generally understands how you are feeling. And through his readings, Satan knows not to ask you directly, should your anger grow.

"Ah, I understand. Well, why didn't you say that you needed a break, kitten? I could have helped you unwind a little."

With that, Satan pulls you away from the table to rest on the couch, grabbing a book from his bag. Once you are both settled, Satan pulls a blanket over you both and opens his book while you rest your head on his lap.

With his human in his arms, Satan calmly reads to you, his voice silky as you eventually drift off to sleep.

Asmodeus

The demon of lust practically barges into your room, Majolish bags in tow as he squeals with excitement.

"MC! Look, Majolish's exclusive swimwear line came out! I found this ADORABLE swimsuit for you to try! It was the last in your size." He pulls out the swimsuit from a bag, showing it to you.

You look up at Asmo, gasping at the swimsuit.

"That looks perfect! Thank you, Asmo. I'll try it on later. I'm not fe-"

Asmo pouts, tossing the swimsuit to you, and reaching for another outfit from his bag.

"Come on!!! I have so much stuff for us to try on! And then we could maybe go to the beach tomor-"

You shake your head, sighing.

"No, Asmo. I'm not up to swimming this week", you lie, shifting in your seat uncomfortably.

Asmo notices, and immediately drops the subject.

"Are you alright, hun? Is it a rough cycle this time?"

Your eyes widen in surprise before you look up at him. His eyes are filled with concern, before you nod.

"Yeah, but it's nothing I haven't dealt with before. I'll be fine. Let's go swimming next week, okay?"

The avatar of lust smiles, before carefully pulling you out of the chair.

"Come on. Let's have a spa day instead. I'll make sure you feel stunning and comfortable."

Beelzebub

You look through the kitchen in your pjs, craving all of your favorite foods, when you hear the door quietly squeak open. Your head turns back, and you see the sheepish gaze of the 6th born.

"Do you need a midnight snack, Beel? I was about to make something myself. I can make some for you."

Beel nods, smiling, before coming into the room.

"I smelled something delicious coming from the kitchen, so I came to check. That's strange, though. You haven't made anything yet?" Beel takes in the large amount of food on the table, much more than you normally eat. Maybe the gluttonous demon was rubbing off on you, he wondered.

You shake your head, just as confused as he is.

"Maybe you were so hungry that you started imagining it. You've done that a few times before."

Beel sniffs the air, before walking up behind you.

"You smell different today... MC, you smell so good..... Can I have a taste?"

You choke on air, trying to understand what he just said.

"Beel! You can't just ask that! That's perverted!" He looks at you with confused, innocent eyes, like a kicked puppy.

"What do you mean? I just wanted to kiss your head. Oh.... You thought I meant or-"

A small screech of panic escapes your lips, and you stop Beel mid-sentence, telling him not to spend too much time with Asmo.

"Right. Sorry, MC... Can I ask a question? Why do you smell different today? You're not as sweet and salty as usual. And you're a lot hungrier today.... Are you okay?"

Realization punches the wind out of you as you understand what Beel has been smelling. He was attracted to your blood, without knowing what it was. An awkward laugh fills the air, and you look away from the red head's gaze.

You spend the next few minutes explaining what was going on, and Beel listens intently as you go on.

"Okay. I'm sorry for being rude... I didn't mean to. To make up for it, I can make you whatever you want. Sit down, and I'll get you some water. You'll lose a lot of hydration for the next few days. Then when food is done, we can go watch Devilish Desserts in my room. Belphie is in the attic tonight."

You smile, pulling Beel into a hug before spending a relaxing evening together.

Belphegor

The sound of your DDD alarm fills the cozy attic, waking you and Belphie up from your after school nap. The youngest brother groans before pulling you closer.

"Did you really have to wake me up? I was having such a nice dream..."

You push yourself off Belphie and the bed, feeling as if you were hit by a truck. Why did you have to feel awful now, when you made plans to see the angels?

Your body aches as you stand, attempting to wake up enough to get ready. Belphie mumbles with irritation, rolling onto his side.

"What's more important tha- Huh? Is that blood?"

Your eyes widen, and you look back to the bed, and your eyes find the red stain on the bedsheets. You look at Belphie in horror, and he sits up, now wide awake.

"MC, are you okay? That's where you were sleeping."

You want to die. You want to shrivel up into a ball and die because how are you going to explain to your boyfriend that it came out of your vagina, and that it's NORMAL?!? Blood coming from anywhere brings some sense of concern anyway, no matter what realm you are from.

"Haha- Yeah, um, about that, I kinda need to tell you something...."

Belphie stays surprisingly alert as you explain, only relaxing when you state that it's normal and frequent.

"Ah. Okay. Tell Simeon to fuck off. You're sick, and you're staying here. Go get a spare hoodie and sweatpants. I'll get you meds, a heating pad, and some spare pillows. Tell the others you're with me tonight."

You smile, glad he understands, and Belphie gets you a couple of things while you get comfortable. When you walk back into the attic, Belphie is fast asleep with his limbs curled around a log of blankets, waiting for you to return.

[littlemisslipbalm]

“I am not going to join your band” Part 3

AKA “I’ll only join your band if you promise not to kick me out if things don’t work out”

Me trying to make this have a happy ending: *jumping through hoops of my own design*

I wrote this ^^ before I wrote part 3 and boy was I right, it was complicated and I hope I did it justice, LMK what y’all think, I love you all asking for part 3 and giving me feedback. All the support means to much

Also peep the gif WITH Mitch I’m crying, they’re both smiling at y/n in the soundboard room

Word Count: 5.0k? | Warnings: angsty ASF, some crying, some yelling, more making out, even some mentions of smut (oh yeah we’re getting there - no actual sex though), swearing

I tried to make it FLUFF but there had to be drama :/ (I don’t like conflict but that’s like lowkey how stories work sadly)

Part 1 | Part 2

-

When Mitch pulled away from the hug, you felt yourself at a crossroads. You knew Mitch was right. While kissing Harry had been nice, you needed to think about why you were doing it and what it would mean for you and Harry.

You knew you were always going to love Mitch and you were working on separating the romantic feelings you had for him and the best friend feelings you had for him. But you weren’t sure if getting involved with Harry would help that process or just confuse it. That’s why you had to talk with Harry about this, where he stood exactly, and there wasn’t time, lunch was over.

Mitch stalked off ahead of you with a final: “Just...be careful.”

Moments after he disappeared through the recording door, Harry walked up behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You were still standing in the middle of the hallway, your brain racing at everything Mitch had said and every moment you had spent with Harry in the past couple of weeks. You hadn’t really thought of Harry as being anything more than a friend. But there you two were, kissing in a storage closet five minutes ago.  

“We need to talk,” you both said simultaneously. But, just as you were about to speak again, a technician rushed up beside you two and started to talk rapidly to Harry, needing assistance on something that sounded important. You raised your brows when he looked at you, his silent question of whether he could leave, “Go, it can wait.”

In that moment, you felt your unimportance in that studio - no Harry or Mitch to turn to.

This had started as a tag along to spend time with your best friend, in hopes to not get left behind, then it had turned to a light torture of watching said best friend falling for a girl who wasn’t yourself, but somewhere amidst all of that was Harry, always giving you a reason to come back. If not for him, you probably would have stopped tagging along after the first day.

He was the one to tell you to come back a second day. He was the one retuning the piano so you had something to do. He was the one liking your tune and turning into a song for his album. He was the one asking you to join the band. But was he the one for you? And if he wasn’t, and you told him that, was that the end of your time at the studio?

God, you just wished you were able to know what he was thinking. What was the reason behind his kiss? Was it something meaningless or meaningful to him. Because you had realized you had wanted to join the band, not for Mitch, not for Harry, but for yourself and you didn’t want whatever had just happened between you and Harry to come between your chance.

You sat in one of the lounge rooms for the rest of the day, you didn’t feel like watching the band record or having Mitch next to you whispering side comments while you sat in boring technical meetings. You wanted to be alone. And alone you were, no one came to look for you until the end of the day. You sat on the floor of the room, legs crossed, your body still, but your mind alive with all of your thoughts.  

At around 8:30, it was Mitch who walked through the door and sighed at the sight of you. You had texted him where you were when he had asked a couple minutes ago. “Ready to go? Sarah’s coming with us, if you don’t mind,” he gruffly said, obviously not past your earlier conversation. It had left a bad taste in your mouth, the whole situation, not being in a comfortable place with your best friend wasn’t ideal.

“I didn’t like how you spoke to me earlier.” you started and then sighed, “And I didn’t like how we left things..” You stayed in your spot, sat in the middle of the room, face turned to stare at Mitch in the doorway.

“I admit, my tone wasn’t my favorite. I was flustered,” Mitch said finally, walking into the room, door swinging shut behind him.

“You could apologize,” you simply stated, not satisfied. You loved Mitch, but you weren’t a push over. “You basically said I was a prostitute, Mitch, with that harem remark.”

“I truly, didn’t mean it like that,” he sighed and ran a hand through his shoulder length hair. He decided to take a seat, mirroring your position. He moved like a cat, long limbs slowly folding in on themselves, making him appear much smaller than he was. “I’m sorry that’s what you thought, it just,” he paused, “was weird seeing you like that. You’re like my little sister -,” he stopped talking at the look on your face.

You blinked and looked away. Do not cry right now, c’mon. You knew that’s how he felt about you, it just always hurt to hear him say it. You brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah, I get it, you’re forgiven, anyway.” You regretted even asking for an apology now.

Mitch wouldn’t let it go, he knew that the two of you had to have this conversation for once, rather than sidestepping it every time.

“I know you’re in love with me, Y/N, and I’m sorry that I don’t feel the same way about you. I know we never talk about it, but we’re both possibly at the beginning of new serious relationships right now and I think we need to talk about this.”

It’s happening. He was right, you never talked about it, and you knew he was right about needing to talk about it, too. He was always the mature one.

“And what if I’m not?” you replied stubbornly, as much as you knew he was right, you couldn’t stop the words from leaving your mouth.

“What?” Mitch was clearly confused.

“What if I’m not on the verge of a new relationship and that kiss was just a one time thing with Harry. Then I’m left here alone and embarrassed while you ride off into the sunset with Sarah and your new life. Have you ever thought about how this all might be affecting me, put my romantic love for you aside, have you ever thought about how leaving your best friend behind might affect her, Mitch! I’ve thought about it and it sucks! It sucks because you’re the only person I’ve got, the only person who’s ever given a damn about me and always been there. Soon you won’t be. My tombstone won’t even read “Happy” just “Uneventful” and “Boring.”

You practically were screaming and you had no idea when all these feelings had bubbled you the surface, but tears were running down your face now. You had never been good with confrontation.  

“And I’ve been working on it.”

Mitch still sat in a stunned silence. Not used to you losing your cool with him.

“I’ve been working on getting over being in love with you, but a lifetime of being in love with you doesn’t just go away, not because you find a girl, not because I kiss a boy, but because I work on separating feelings and ideas in my mind. I had let the line be blurred between best friend and boyfriend, when you weren’t actually my boyfriend.” You paused, “I thought you were my soulmate since I was fourteen and you never even noticed how I looked at you.” You had started fierce, but you ended softly, almost whimpering out the last words.

“I knew,” he sighed, “I knew when you made sure to come to all my shows in high school. You never missed a single one.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me to stop? Why didn’t you set up boundaries?” You pleaded with Mitch, searching for an answer from him to make sense of everything.

“Because I was young and no one had ever done that for me, no one cared about me like you did before and it felt so good to not be ignored or overlooked. To be someone’s whole world, it felt nice.”

“But...look what happened.”

“It got out of hand, but I thought you’d find a guy when you went off to college and forget about loving me like that.”

“But that’s not what happened,” you both sat silent for a few moments, “I can’t lose you, Mitch, and I’m okay just being the best friend.”

“I can’t lose you either, Y/N. I’m so sorry I never addressed it sooner, it wasn’t fair of me to keep you on the line all these years. And I’m not going to leave you behind, I’m sorry if I have been neglecting our friendship with the album and Sarah.”

Mitch reached out and took your hand, rubbing it softly with his thumb. You noticed no butterflies when he did this and you squeezed his hand gently back.

“So, best friend, as much as I would love to ride home with you and your girl, I think there’s someone else I really need to talk to.”

You were always quick to move past fights with Mitch, they were never like this, of course, but you had said your piece and so had Mitch, seeing as he reverted back to his natural silent state. This definitely was a big step in the right direction for you to finally move past your romantic feelings for Mitch. Some closure.

Mitch nodded and you both stood up. “We should hang out soon, just the two of us, do something… friendly,” Mitch said softly. You smiled and nodded.

You knew this had been a wake up call for him, too. You hadn’t really hung out outside of the studio since he’d started seeing Sarah more exclusively, meaning weekly movie nights, ‘what’s in the fridge’ dinner nights, and new music mondays had all fallen by the wayside. You knew that he’d start being there for you more after this whole conversation, because that’s who Mitch was, he listened and he followed through.

You gave him a quick hug, happier with the outcome of this conversation than the last, even if this one had involved you shouting a little bit. Then, you split off from him in search of Harry.

He was in the recording area of the studio, sitting, staring off into space with his guitar resting in his lap.

“Hi,” you said carefully. He twitched his head at the sound and looked over to see you. “Have you been crying?” He asked immediately, standing up and setting the guitar on its stand. He crossed to you, quick to your side.

You shook your head, “No, well yes, but they were angry tears, more than sad.”

“Are you alright?” Harry still was concerned, angry wasn’t much better than sad.

“Just had it out with Mitch, it’s better now.”

“About earlier?” Harry led you to sit on the piano bench with him.

“No, about him, and me, it’s been a long time coming, but we’ve got it all out in the open now. He’s going to try to be a better friend, I think. And I’m going to try to be just his best friend.”

“Yeah?” Harry urged you to say more.

“But it did start about earlier, at least,” you ran a hand through your hair, “about what he had said to me earlier, after he had walked in on us.”

“What had he said?” Harry continued to inquire, trying to understand what he had missed.

“He was warning me not to be with you for the wrong reasons and to be wary of your intentions, I guess. He cares about us both, doesn’t want either of us to get hurt and I think it was also weird for him to see us in such a compromising position.”

“Why do you think he wanted you to be wary of my intentions?” Harry tilted his head, this comment not really making sense to him.

“Well, what are your intentions?” You didn’t want to mention the ‘harem’ comment, you knew Mitch had said it in the heat of the moment and it would only upset Harry.

“I like you, isn’t it obvious?” Harry said staring directly into your eyes.

“Um..” His blunt statement caught you off guard.

Harry ducked his head and puffed a laugh out of his mouth, almost in disbelief, “No, I guess it’s not.”

You sat there, silent, still no idea how to respond. Harry scratched his head and smiled at you, “You’re gorgeous and fantastic at everything you do. You’re witty and kind, fiercely loyal and never fail to bring a smile to my face, even when you’re crying or I’m crying. Why wouldn’t I be attracted to you?”

Still you remained silent. “C’mon, Y/N. Say something, please. I just laid it all out for you.”

You nodded and tried to streamline your thoughts. Today had been a lot, overwhelming to say the least. “I’ve never had someone feel this way about me, it’s a lot to take in. And...I like you too, Harry, but-”

“Don’t say ‘but’” he pleaded.

“But,” you sighed, “I don’t want you to go through the same thing I did, being strung along by someone who can’t give you what you need. I don’t know how to love someone who isn’t Mitch, I want to, I really, really do, but it’s going to take time, and I like you enough to not want to hurt you.”

“Then let me teach you,” Harry said quickly, taking your hands in his, “Let me be the one to teach you to love someone who isn’t Mitch. That someone is me, by the way.”

You laughed at his final remark, still feeling overwhelmed and unsure.

“And I’m okay with going slow,” he shrugged his shoulders, “we don’t even have to label this. But when I’m with you, here, everyday, I feel at home and when you’re gone, I miss you. You’re constantly on my mind and I’m always looking for your approval. What would hurt me the most is if you don’t give us a chance. Give me a chance to prove to you that you can love someone else and they can love you back, properly.”

His eyes were begging you to say ‘yes’. His hands were clasped tightly around yours, tugging you closer to him.

After everything he said, you wanted to say yes. But, you were scared. You were scared because trying something new, taking a step into the unknown, it was scary sometimes.

But then, you thought back to when Harry had sat with you as you cried over Mitch and how he’d helped you through that moment of weakness. How you had known that night that you could trust him to be there for you. With Harry by your side, maybe you wouldn’t have to be so scared of the unknown, because you wouldn’t be alone anymore.

“Only if you promise not to kick me out of the band if things don’t work out.” You smiled at Harry’s slight confusion. Then his confusion turned into a huge grin, almost every one of his teeth on display for you.

“I’m sorry, I can’t promise you that…” he said mischievously, making it your turn for a look of confusion, “But I’ll raise you one. I promise that things will work out and you’ll stay in the band.”

You rescinded a hand from his grasp and swatted his bicep. “Has anyone ever told you, you’re very cheeky?”

“Almost all the time! And look at that, you’re already speakin’ my language,” he smiled sweetly at you and winked.

“Oh, shut up!” You laughed and went to swat him again, but instead he caught your wrist and brought it down to your side.

“Fine,” he said matter of factly and leaned into your lips, kissing you for a second time today.

He was an amazing kisser, better than anyone you’d ever kissed before, at least, which really wasn’t saying a lot, but you could tell he was experienced. You didn’t think you’d ever get over his warmth either. It was all consuming.

This time it was you who’s tongue asked for entrance to the other’s mouth. Harry gladly obliged as he pulled you closer to him on the bench.

You liked how quickly you and Harry could go from a serious topic to having fun, you’d said what needed to be said and now you were enjoying each other.

It was breathless between you and Harry. His hands ghosting over every part of your body and yours glued to his deliciously soft curls. Harry’s lips began to travel away from yours and a whine came from the back of your throat. Harry ‘tsk’ed against your jaw, but continued to leave open mouth kisses down the side of your neck.

“Oh” was all you said as he began to suck persistently at the base of your neck, right on top of your collarbone. It felt nice, really fucking nice and you felt a hand fall down onto the top of your thigh and squeeze it. This shot electricity through your entire body. The jolt didn’t stop Harry from continuing to suck along your neck, you just felt him pause for a moment, a smirk ghosting against your neck, nipping on the spot below his lips.

After what felt like hours, Harry kissed back up to your lips and then pulled away.

You were attempting to catch your breath when you said, “Is that what you call taking it slow?”

“I wasn’t hearing any complaints?” He responded as his smirk responded, shrugging his shoulders once again.

“No, no complaints,” you moved one of your legs so that both were on one side of the piano stool and scooted into Harry’s chest. He wrapped his arms around you as you snuggled your head into his chest. It had been a long day for both of you, as you thought back to lunch with Harry crying in the storage closet. He kissed the top of your hair and rested his chin on top of your head, beginning to stroke your arm lazily with his fingertips.

You sat in silence, breathing in each other’s presence. You also couldn’t believe how nice he smelled, even after a whole day of work. This man was magic, you thought.

Harry began to laugh softly and you shifted your head to look at him. “You know, I was planning on telling you today, before this all happened.” He continued after taking a finger and running it against the slope of your nose and tapping the tip, “It’s why I had been in such a good mood, had finished the lyrics, and was going to play it for you, but then I got all in my head. And then we were in the storage room and you were being so good to me and then we were kissing and then Mitch walked in and then you ran off and-.”

You cut off his ramble, “I think I got the rest, I was there, babe.” Heat quickly ran to your cheeks at your use of a pet name. Harry noticed it too and echoed it, “Babe? You just called me ��babe’?”

“No, definitely not,” you tried unconvincingly.

“Oh, I like that,” he continued to tease you, echoing ‘babe’ once more, your face growing redder every second.

“Wait, you were going to play me what?” You suddenly circled back to the first part of Harry’s little rant. He took his hand away from your arm and used it to brush back a strand of hair that had gotten out of place on your head, “Sweet Creature, I was planning on serenading you and then telling you how I felt.”

“You’re fucking with me, that song isn’t about me,” you scoffed and turned your head away, feeling shy at Harry’s intense stare. He was so passionate and it came through in his big, bright eyes. They could be intimidating at times.

“Honest,” he said, “It was your tune after all, can’t believe you’d think I’d write about someone else with your own music.”

“I don’t know, I thought I was just helping you with a song,” you said sheepishly.

“I was looking at you the first time I said the words ‘sweet creature’” Harry persisted, still in disbelief that you hadn’t caught on to his crush on you until he had spelled it out, but then it dawned on him, you had never had someone pine after you.

In that moment he knew that he wanted to show you all the wonderful things that came with being liked by someone, and being intimate with someone who wanted you back. He didn’t care if you were getting over someone else, because he was going to be there to show you how you deserved to be treated and in turn he knew you’d eventually see him as more than a cute, nice guy friend who knew how to kiss.

You sat there as if you were seeing Harry with new eyes. His expression was earnest and he looked down at you brightly. You bit your lip to slow down the smile about to erupt on your face. You hadn’t felt this excited in a long time.

It felt good to be in a man’s arms who looked at you with such great care, almost as if you were the reason his world turned and he didn’t want that to stop, even if you knew it wasn’t true, his eyes insisted it was. It felt good to be in the embrace of a man who wrote you a song and made you smile and laugh. It felt good to be with a man who took your breath away and also got his taken away from you.

You reached up to Harry’s prominent cheekbone and danced your fingertips along his face. He had grown silent at your touch. Your fingers moved up to smooth one of his large brows and stopped at his brow bone. Harry closed his eyes when you touched his brow bone, your touch so close to his eyes. You rested there for a moment and then moved back down his face, traveling over his slightly gaunt cheeks again.

His eyes fluttered open and the sounds of your breathing filled the air, his soft panting slightly louder than your controlled quiet breaths. It seemed your soft caress was having an effect on him.

Harry loved intimate touch. It was taking all of his self-control to keep from nuzzling into your delicate hand on his face, wanting you to explore without his interference.

You continued to slide your hand down his face, over some light scruff, to the curve of his cupid’s bow. Harry parted his lips at this touch, unable to keep his lungs from hitching. You bit your lip again, noting your effect on him. You traced your thumb around the outline of Harry’s mouth, from his cupid’s bow, to one side, and then onto his plush lower lip.

You kept your thumb there, but pulled down slightly, Harry’s mouth opening further. He restrained the whimper in the back of his throat. You weren’t trying to get any reaction out of him, you were simply using your hands to look at his face, tracing him into your sensory memory.

When you pushed your thumb back up, putting his lip back into place, you felt his tongue peak out and touch you. You looked into his green eyes and he only looked back at you. You were in control. You pushed your thumb a millimeter further and Harry took it softly into his mouth, his tongue touching it sweetly and then he closed his mouth, creating a kiss on your thumb. You then removed your thumb from against his puckered lips and placed your exploring hand onto his thigh, giving you leverage to put yourself at eye level with Harry.

“You are so beautiful,” you said slowly, breathing out a breath you didn’t think you had been holding. His face lit up at your remark and he leaned forward to give you one more sweet kiss, “And so are you. Let’s get you home.”

-

The next few weeks felt like a whirlwind. You were constantly doing something. When you weren’t busy working on the album at the studio, Harry was sneaking you off to secluded places in the building to pepper you with kisses or whispering sweet nothings in your ear in between takes. He drove you home every night, walking you to your door and kissing you hard before you went inside, sometimes he’d come in with you and stay the night, cuddling and falling asleep in each other’s arms. Harry also took you out when he could, showing you little holes in the wall you’d never heard of and surprising you with presents that you always told him were too nice. Everything was coming so natural between you two and Harry treated you so well, it made being with him extremely fun and easy.

Mitch and you were doing best friend things again, too, movie nights and music recommendations, calling each other about random shit you’d seen on the news and couldn’t believe. You weren’t pining after him anymore. You loved him still, but you now knew what reciprocated romantic feelings looked like with Harry and you didn’t need or want that from Mitch anymore. Mitch had talked to Harry after you had explained what happened that night and he had given the big brother spiel to Harry, but was convinced when he heard the way Harry talked about you. He hadn’t realized how Harry had felt before then either. Harry joked that the two of you clearly had never seen a romcom before, because you were both “thick” when it came to flirting.

Today was no different from the rest, Harry had his arm slung around your shoulder as you were pressed into his side on the soundboard room’s couch, your arm reaching up to play with his fingertips. His mouth was against your ear, whispering, almost inaudibly, about how good you looked today and how he wanted to kiss you so badly and you were giggling at his borderline dirty words.

Nobody took any real notice, especially because this had been happening for weeks now. Whenever Mitch saw you two like this, he smiled with closed lips, but he seemed genuinely happy. He was happy that everything was working out in the best way possible.

Lunchtime was always fun because now it was time for you and Harry to sneak off to the first place you had kissed. Except it wasn’t so sneaky, literally everyone knew where you were going and what you were going to do. The minute you were inside the room, Harry would press you against the door, slamming it shut. His lips were on yours in an instant.

Today, he grabbed behind your knee and hiked it up around his hips, pressing himself closer to you. You both groaned at the way your bodies fit together. “Mmph, Fuck, Babe,” Harry groaned before moving to kiss your neck. You only whined in response, fisting a part of his shirt in one hand and some strands of his hair in the other.

You had worn a tank top today, so Harry was able to kiss all across your collarbone, he pulled down one side of the tank and your bra strap, exposing more naked skin. “Can you feel what you do to me?” Harry asks, lips ghosting over your skin, hands gripping your hips closer to his body. You can feel him pressing into you beneath his trousers.

“Can I?” you ask, he pulls away from his work on your neck and looks into your eyes. “Y/N, you don’t have to…” his tone quickly softened. The two of you had only done heavy makeout sessions and some topless groping, but nothing below the belt, yet. “But, I want to take care of you,” you stated simply, meeting his gaze with lust blown out eyes.

He sighed, “Oh, darling.” He reached up to brush your hair into place, it was always getting so messy when you made out.

“My body wants nothing more than for you to take care of me, but one, if you blow me right now, I don’t know how I will get through the rest of the day without loving up on you every second,” you laughed at his words and rolled your eyes.

“And two, when it’s our first time, I want it to be our first time doing everything together, don’t want me to get a head start.”

You wanted to be serious about him being so sweet about your first time together, but you couldn’t ignore the sexual pun he’d just made. You burst out into unrestrained laughter and Harry looked at you, concerned. His eyebrows were knit together as he watched you laughing your head off.

“What?”

“Oh my god, Harry, did you hear yourself?”

“Thought I was being sweet,” he puffed indignantly.

“Head,” you said in between laughs, “Start.”

It clicked in his mind and he rolled his eyes at your immaturity. “You catch that, it’s not even funny, but you don’t catch my flirting for weeks...makes you wonder...” he trails off.

“You’re so mean to me! Guess you don’t want anymore kisses,” you stick your tongue out at him and he smiles.

The more time you spent together, the more your silly side kept coming out with him. Harry loved it, he loved that you could be intellectual and passionate, but also pick out some unintentional innuendo pun at the end of his heartfelt sentiment about your sex life together.

You readjusted yourselves to leave and as you exited Harry said, “What am I going to do with you?”

You held one of his hands and twirled in the hallway, smiling back at him as he walked behind you. You were like a dream, his dream. He hadn’t realized how much he’d needed someone until you’d come into his life, being there for him, being the lovely person he’d come to know. You were wonderful and you were his. And he, in turn, was yours.

-

Hope you enjoyed part 3!

@imagine-that-1975

[thekookprincess]

Strawberries and apples

JJ Maybank x kook! reader

Summary: The newest Kook Princess always smells like strawberries and apples and Outer Bank’s very own troublemaker can’t help but wonder if she also tastes like that.

Warnings: swearing i think? some angst but mostly fluff

Notes: hi! this is my first time writing here (please be nice!) and english is not my first language so sorry if there are any mistakes! this  maybe a little cliche, also, no gold hunting! au ‘cause they deserve to be normal teenagers. hope you guys like it!! 

(not my gif)

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If anyone were to tell the so-called Pogues that they would have a kook in their group at the start of the summer, the four of them would laugh and say that it was impossible, but two weeks in, the universe proved them wrong when no other than Sarah Cameron and their beloved leader John B started dating, making Sarah an “honorary pogue” as she liked to call herself once she was welcomed into the group.

At first, it wasn’t easy, Kiara and Sarah weren’t exactly best friends but after some little scheming from the boys they made up and everything seemed perfect, that is, until Sarah was dethroned from her “Kook Princess” title, apparently, hanging out with the Pogues made her a traitor and the kooks didn’t waste any second finding a replacement. Y/N L/N, Sarah’s best friend, accepted the title with a satisfied smile, after all, if the Cameron girl was going to ditch her for her new friends, becoming the new kook princess was the perfect payback.

Y/N wasn’t one to jugde, she even spent almost a year trying to make Kie and Sarah to make up, though that didn’t work out too well, the point is, once she found out about her best friend and the pogue leader she was nothing but supportive, only to have her little nice gesture smacking her in the face when Sarah started being “too busy” to hang out with her.

“I’m sorry, Y/N/N, is just that...I don’t think they’re ready to have another kook around” Sarah’s words replayed in her mind as she was “officially” presented as the new princess in an exclusive kook party; the ex-princess wasn’t invited and as Y/N danced with some stuck-up kooks she couldn’t help but think “another kook? that’s what she thinks I am?” and driven by the need to prove she was not just another annoying rich girl, she dissapeared from the party.

That’s how she found herself in front of John B’s house, her flower crown almost falling off her head and the sundress she was wearing covered in dirt from the roads she fell onto while running there; her once white shoes were now almost grey and her knees had little cuts covered in blood but she didn’t care, of course, she didn’t think she would find the whole gang sitting in the front porch.

Sarah was the first to break up the perplexed silence her friends had fallen onto, standing up from her seat next to her boyfriend and approaching the girl with worry “Oh my god, Y/N/N, what happened? are you okay?” the princess just nodded, her e/c eyes scanning the faces of the other four teens who were staring at her in silence. Kiara stood up and approached the girls with caution, they all knew who she was and what the flower crown in her head represented, so she still had some doubts about the seemingly innocent girl, but she noticed the cuts on her legs and her face softened, leading her to where she sat before her appearence.

Y/N remained silent as the brunette girl entered the house claiming she had to clean the wounds before they got inffected, Sarah, however, didn’t stop asking questions with evident worry in her face and voice. She looked at the girl she somehow still considered her best friend and just asked “Do you really think I’m just another kook?” her voice was barely avobe a whisper and she hated how soft and hurt it sounded, the silence didn’t help, as the blonde just looked at her two friends and her boyfriend with a confused expression that they mirrored; when she finally decided to speak Kie had already retourned and was starting to clean her cuts “What? What do you mean, I-I don’t understand” Y/N sighed, of course she doesn’t even remember, she thought “You said they weren’t ready for another kook...is that all I am?” she pointed at the pogues, who watched the conversation like it was a tennis match, with their heads moving to look a the two girls, even Kiara stopped playing doctor to look at them.

“I didn’t...I didn’t mean it like that, Y/N, and that was almost two weeks ago” the Cameron girl looked somewhat embarrased “Yes, it was two weeks ago since you stopped texting me and hanging out with me ‘cause, apparently, hanging around kooks isn’t so funny anymore” anger was evident in her voice and for the first time since she got there, John B speaked up “Whoah, okay, I’m sure she didn’t mean that, L/N, let’s not jump to conclusions” the kook rolled her eyes at the boy’s protective words “I didn’t ask you, John B, but since you seem so eager to respond, tell me, what did she mean, then?” after that, hell broke loose, Sarah claimed she was overreacting, obviously backed up by her boyfriend and when the kook princess said she didn’t know she needed a guard dog, the blond boy she recognized as JJ Maybank jumped into the discussion as well, defending his best friend; the other boy, Pope, she rememberd him from the countless times he delivered groceries at her house, and Kiara tried to stop the fight, they seemed to be the only ones with a brain, she noted.

“You know what, I get it, you were tired of playing the good girl in Figure Eight and figured I would be just a reminder of the life you hate so much” she was almost crying and she felt Kiara taking her hand when she finished cleaning the cuts, giving her a squeeze in hopes to calm her down; she muttered a weak “thank you” to the girl and looked at Sarah again “No! It’s not that! I’m sorry, okay? I was worried that I would lose you, that you wouldn’t like them, that they wouldn’t like you...I didn’t want to lose my best friend, but I guess I was stupid and I already have”

Y/N’s features softened and her angered voice dissapeared, her usual sweet tone reappearing “You could never lose me, S” a smile broke the guilty look in the blonde’s face and she wrapped her in a hug, whispering “I’m sorry” a dozen times “It’s fine, just don’t do it again” they both smiled and the pogues relaxed, offering the kook girl to stay with them for the rest of the day.

That was how the newest Kook Princess ended up being a “traitor” just like the one before her. It was almost a month after that day and the Pogues plus the two kook traitors, Y/N thought that sounded way cooler than “honorary pogues”, were sitting and chatting at John B’s front porch; Sarah and John B were cuddled up in a chair way too small for the both of them while they listened to Kiara rant about some envirommental issue, Pope was sitting beside her, watching her with a small smile and JJ was currently defending his right to use the hammock, but Y/N wasn’t having it.

“Come on, J! Just move a little! We can both fit in there!” Sarah glanced at her best friend, who stood in front of a grinning JJ, she had her arms crossed and the most adorable pout in her face, the blonde shaked her head smiling knowingly and focused on Kie’s rant again.

“No we can’t, sugar” sugar, he had been calling her that since she joined the group, saying it was because she smelled like strawberries and apples and that it was “too sugary”, that was also the argument he always used to not share the hammock with her “you know I can’t stand your sugary scent, Y/N/N, I’m sorry but we can’t share the spot” he smirked, thinking the girl would roll her eyes and take her usual spot next to the cuddling couple like she always did, but this time the L/N girl had another plan in mind.

Without a warning, she pushed JJ’s feet, that were dangling in the air as he sat  in the hammock facing her, making him lay in his back, and she quickly climbed in the hammock, laying next to him and giggling like a little girl once she saw the look of pure shock in the boy’s face. “Great” the boy groaned and faced the opposite side, trying to hide the blush that threatened to reveal the real reason why he didn’t want to be close to the kook.

Since the girl joined the group and he discovered her signature scent, he became intoxicated by it, so much that it often clouded his mind when she would talk to him, the smell of strawberries always hit him first, followed by the sweetest apples he’s ever smelt; he often surprised himself thinking if the lipgloss she always seemed to wear tasted the same as her sugar coated scent, if she tasted like that.

He tried to push thoughts aside as he dared to look over at her, she was still giggling, and every time she moved the wind carried the intoxicating smell over to him, making him close his eyes and suppresing a groan, with his eyes still closed, he heard the giggles beside him ceasing and then he sensed the girl moving again “Are you okay?” her voice seemed too close and it was a sweet whisper that warned him, don’t open your eyes, but he was never the one to listen, even to himself, so he opened his eyes, and he immediatelly regreted it.

Her face was just centimetres apart from his, some strands of her hair tickling his cheeks, her e/c eyes stared back at him as she repeated the question, his gaze instantly fixating in her lips, the movement they created when she talked, how the lipgloss she was wearing made them seem shiny and how bad he wanted to figure out how they tasted, before he knew it, he was breathing heavily, his baby blue eyes turning dark.

Y/N felt her cheeks heat up once she realized the change in his demeanor, his eyes were still focused in her lips, his own slightly parted. His breath was hitting her due to the close proximity and if one of them moved a little closer, their lips would be touching.

“I’m fine” he swallowed “it’s your stupid smell again, I can’t stop thinking about-” he cut himself before finishing the sentence, eyes still dark and now wide as he stared in her eyes, that didn’t help, her eyes were shining with curiosity and they looked absolutely breathtaking up close. “About what?” her voice was soft, sweet and velvetly and he finally thought, fuck it, “about whether you taste as good and sweet as you smell” she let out a small surprised noise and as he looked away from her, he noted she was almost on top of him, arms in his chest, he placed his own tentatively in her waist and looked at her again, searching in her eyes something that told him to stop, but she just smiled and shifted even closer, lips brushing his as she spoke “Well, then you should figure it out, don’t you think?” he breathed a strangled “yeah” and closed the small gap between them.

He was finally kissing the newest Kook Princess, and, as he did, he smiled when he indeed tasted her sugary scent in her lips. He was right, she did taste like strawberries and apples.

[lahyene]

A Hollywood Love Story.

Pairing: young!chris evans x reader

Summary: Making it in Hollywood is hard, and when you run into the up and coming Chris Evans at a party, you can’t help but be a little intrigued by the frat boy vibes he practically emanates. You never knew you’d actually fall in love with him while both of you climb the ladder to the top.

Themes: romance, fluff, alcohol, smoking

Word count: 2208

You’re sitting on the kitchen counter, your crop top barely covering your breasts and your shorts practically the size of underwear. As a girl must dress if she’s trying to make it big in Hollywood, being nothing but an Instagram model. Cigarette in your mouth, you take a drag and let the smoke blow out rather close to the face of the man who’s desperately trying to chat you up right now, but you couldn’t care less as your eyes wander the scene of this house party. You’re here to network, to find connections. If you can’t make this work, you’re going to have to move back home and that’s the last thing you want after being exposed to so much freedom.

You saw him the second you walked into this party. He hasn’t quite made it big yet, but he’s probably the most famous one here. Chris Evans. He’s appeared in a few movies, nothing blockbuster, though he’s very well known for his incredibly handsome features and well defined body. You’re sure the two of you have more in common than one would think, being seen more so for your appearance than your personality or talent. People assume you to be trashy and shallow, but they don’t realize that in this world, you have to come off that way in the beginning. No one’s going to wait around to get to know you or the level of depth you have. It’s all about your looks until you finally make it.

When you last saw him, he was on the couch with a girl on either side of him, taking turns making out with each. You’ve heard he’s quite the party boy, dabbling in drugs and alcohol, and practically drowning in female companionship. You thought he was dating Jessica Biel, but seeing his tongue shoved down this blonde’s throat as his hand snakes up the thigh of the brunette, you figure they’re not as committed or exclusive as they let on.

Quite honestly, you’re not interested in him in terms of networking. He isn’t going to do you any favors, he’s probably in a phase where he needs to look out for himself before anyone else. And you completely understand. It’s what Hollywood does to you-- makes you selfish, desperate, twisted. You know there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, but damn, is it a long tunnel.

You’ve barely even realized the male in front of you is still talking. You’re about to shut him down when you see Chris enter the kitchen, without his little playthings, surprisingly enough. The two of you make eye contact. You don’t even have to try; you can already tell he’s intrigued. You aren’t sure whether that’s flattering or concerning. He seems like he’d be intrigued by a hobo, as long as said hobo were to have a vagina. He walks over to you with a gait of confidence, corner of his lips already tugging upwards. He steps in right next to the man, his presence shutting him up.

“Hey there. Haven’t seen you around here before. What’s your name, beautiful?”

You take another drag as you listen to him, your expression barely changing. This time, you turn your head to blow the smoke out before looking to him again. “Y/N.” You tap the cigarette in the ashtray next to you, arching an eyebrow. “And you’re Chris, if I’m not mistaken? It’s nice to meet you.”

“So you already know who I am.” He states, and you’re almost amused by that arrogant twinkle in his eyes. “It’s very nice to meet you too, Y/N.” The male standing next to him finally speaks up in annoyance, “Excuse me, I was in the middle of a conversation with-”

“It’s not a conversation if only one person is talking.” You cut him off, disposing of the cigarette entirely before handing him your empty cup. “Make yourself useful and toss this out for me, would you?” He scoffs incredulously but takes it, grumbling as he walks away. Chris looks at you with a grin, clucking his tongue. “Damn, baby girl. Ice cold. Not that I can blame you, you looked bored as fuck sitting over here.”

“Were you watching me?” you ask innocently, your voice silky as you gaze up at him. His eyes are gorgeous, you have to give him that. His whole face is, really. As much as you’d love to say that he’s overrated, you can’t. He’s handsome, and he knows it. “A little bit, yeah.” He admits shamelessly, glancing back to the spot where he was sitting on the couch, the area slightly visible from where you are in the kitchen. “Those little kittens over there are great and all, but… I dunno. Something about you is more appealing.” He looks back at you and smirks, continuing, “Probably the fact that everything about your beauty is natural.”

He’s right, but you imagine he probably says this to even the most Botox-ed of Hollywood women.

“Thank you.” You practically purr nonetheless with a small smirk. “Wanna step outside with me for a bit? It’s getting kind of hot in here.”

“Sure. Let me grab us a drink too. What do you want?”

“A beer’s fine, thanks.”

His eyes practically light up, his smirk growing wider. “Oh, yeah? Damn, I’ve never met a girl at one of these parties that drinks beer. Always complaining about how it’s going to make them fat or whatever.”

You shrugged nonchalantly as you slid down from the counter, tapping your lightly toned stomach. “Fast metabolism, I guess. Those fruity cocktails and shit have way too much sugar, I’d probably get less sick if I just drank rubbing alcohol. Beer’s good.”

He laughs and you can tell he’s already impressed. You feel strangely good about this. “Alright, sweetheart. I’ll meet you out on the deck.”

____________________

It’s a whirlwind of a romance.

You never thought this would happen to you. You constantly hear about celebrities getting together after knowing each other for ten seconds, getting married after dating for eleven. You’d scoff at the thought. That’s infatuation, not love.

Now as you’re holding Chris’ hand as he uses his other one to shield you from the lights of the paparazzi cameras flashing in your face, you wonder how the hell you got here. Going on dates every week, spending the night at whomever’s place is closest- you’ve even Facetimed his parents a few times, for God’s sake, and you’ve only been dating for three months.

You haven’t told him you love him yet, nor has he told you. You’re not ready for that. He’s clearly still dripping in the residue from his playboy days, and you’ve simply always had a difficult time with… well, emotions.

It’s the main cause behind any arguments you two have. While he still has a very frat boy-esque mentality, he’s also very sensitive to feelings. He’s a romantic at heart; he’s like an open book, and he surprisingly has no problem being vulnerable. You, on the other hand, keep everything bottled up. It’s what you’re used to.

Still, you make it work. You’ve never been in a relationship that feels so serious. Even the arguments only furthermore make it seem real, like you've been dating for years rather than a few months.

The two of you finally approach the gate of the apartment complex, entering as you let out a little breath upon being free from the paparazzi’s clutches. “I don’t know how you deal with this everyday.” You shake your head, barely laughing. “It’s exhausting.” He chuckles and guides you inside, raising a brow. “Well, baby doll, it’s going to be your life pretty soon now that you’ve found yourself an agent- you know that, right?”

You can’t hold back your smile, even though you’ve been strictly telling yourself not to keep your hopes up. “I don’t have one yet, it’s just a meeting. I can’t get too excited!” He scoffs and suddenly grabs your waist, playfully tackling you down onto the couch as you squeal. “Well, I’m going to be excited for you then. C’mon baby, look at you. You’re fucking gorgeous, and you’ve been gaining more and more followers by the second. And the agency reached out to you first to set up a meeting, you didn’t even have to send your headshots in. You know how good of a sign that is?” He playfully starts tickling your sides and you practically shriek in laughter, squirming through your giggles. “Chris!!”

He finally stops and you exhale, breathless but smiling as you reach up and hold his face lightly. “You really think I’ll make it big one day? That I’ll eventually be walking that runway during Paris Fashion Week?”

“Hell yeah I do, cupcake.” He murmurs, leaning down to peck your lips, “And I’m going to be sitting front row at every single fucking show.” You smile, briefly shutting your eyes before opening them again as you trail your fingertips along the stubble of his jawline. “Oh, yeah? What if you forget all about me because you’ll be a big Hollywood star by then? What if you show up front row, sitting next to your girlfriend Megan Fox?” He blinks and laughs deeply, moving his mouth down to kiss at your neck. “Mm… I’d be watching you walk that runway and dump her right then and there to beg for you back, that’s what.” You hum softly in delight as he nibbles on your sensitive skin, his husky voice continuing, “But you know that’s not going to happen, right baby? I can’t imagine doing this whole Hollywood thing without you by my side. You support me so much, and I want to do the same for you. I just… have a really good feeling about this relationship.”

You lightly move his head to look up into his eyes, reading his expression. He looks nothing but genuine.

“Me too.” You whisper, caressing his cheek lightly with your thumb. “I think we’re both gonna make it big one day. And we’ll be doing it together.”

____________________  

“He was my first.” You laugh softly as you wipe at your eyes, looking up towards the ceiling of the lavish five star hotel room as if that will stop the tears from returning. “I was only eighteen when we met. Still new to LA, only had a few thousand followers on Instagram. God, why am I crying right now?”

Your friend Taylor hands you a tissue, shaking her head. “It’s okay to cry sometimes, you know. It’s good to have feelings.”

You scoff through the tears, taking the tissue and wiping at your wet eyes. “I just can’t believe everything we’ve gone through. Me becoming an international model, him becoming Captain freakin’ America, adopting a dog together, traveling the world together for his press conferences and my photoshoots, meeting each other’s families…” You sniff, finally letting a tear actually slide down your cheek. “Do you remember when I had to get an appendectomy? And I was so fucking freaked out about the surgery, I had never had one before- but he was there with me the entire time I was recovering. He even told the director of Gifted that he needed a few days off.”

“Yes, Y/N, we remember.” Jasmine sighs, handing you a glass of wine. “Drink up girly, you clearly need it tonight.” Candice raises an eyebrow, questioning, “Hasn’t she drank enough? I think that’s why the crying is happening…”

“And we even talked about having kids together. We just knew we’d make it, you know? That our relationship would last forever. It wasn’t delusional, we knew it.” You sniff, taking the wine nonetheless as you take a sip. “Oh my God, remember when I had that pregnancy scare? And it looked like I’d be having a baby, and I was so nervous to tell him, but when I did he was so fucking ecstatic. Guys, he was so happy. Literally jumping for joy. He told me he wanted nothing more than to have a baby with me, even though we hadn’t planned for one that early.”

“Well, thank God you weren’t actually pregnant,” Meng pipes up, a glass of wine in one hand as she goes to open your closet door with the other. “Because then shopping for this would have been a lot more difficult with a baby bump.” She pulls out the wedding dress, playfully moving it from side to side in front of her body. All the girls immediately laugh, cheering as they raise their glasses. “Hell, yeah! Our girl’s getting married to the love of her life tomorrow!”

You giggle through your tears. Your happy tears, to be exact.

“C’mon, Y/N, stop crying already!” Elsa laughs, shaking your shoulders lightly. “You’re acting like Chris dumped you!” You laugh too, wiping at your eyes. “I can’t help but be a little emotional, okay? God, this is his fault. I never used to be such a crybaby until I met him.” You lift up your glass for another toast as you smile widely. “To the best damn bridesmaids in the world. Thank you for dealing with my sensitive ass during this whole marriage process.”

“Anything for you, soon-to-be Mrs. Evans!”