#and so much of it is just. staring. at the page.

[little-jana]

“Perfectly Thought Out”

Pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none

Words: 1.15k

Summary: Finding the perfect gift for Spencer was not easy, but you did it.

It had taken you weeks to figure out the perfect gift for Spencer Reid. Weeks of mental back and forth, second-guessing, and doubt. Because really, what do you give someone like Spencer? A man with an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and an endless well of knowledge? Someone who could rattle off obscure facts about obscure things before you’d even finished your coffee?

You’d been desperate to give him something thoughtful, something that wouldn’t just end up collecting dust on a shelf in his apartment. And you think you’d finally nailed it. Or at least, you hoped you had.

Now, standing in the BAU’s break room with a carefully wrapped box tucked under your arm, you felt your nerves kick in. This was the first chance you’d gotten to give him his present, and the anticipation was eating you alive.

“Hey,” his voice broke through your thoughts, soft but warm.

You turned to see him standing in the doorway, a slight smile tugging at his lips. His messenger bag was slung over one shoulder, and his scarf hung loosely around his neck, a hint of the autumn chill still clinging to him from outside.

“Hey,” you said, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze. “I, uh, have something for you.”

“For me?” His eyebrows lifted in surprise, his curiosity immediately piqued.

You nodded, holding out the box with both hands. “It’s… kind of a late birthday gift. I thought you might like it.”

Spencer set his bag down on the counter and took the box from you with the kind of care you’d use to handle something fragile. His long fingers brushed against yours briefly, and you tried not to think too much about the way it made your heart flutter.

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” he said softly, his gaze flickering up to meet yours.

“I wanted to,” you replied, your voice quieter than you intended. “Just… open it.”

He hesitated for a moment, then carefully peeled back the wrapping paper, his movements methodical and deliberate. When he lifted the lid of the box, his breath hitched.

Inside was a leather-bound journal, hand-stitched and worn just enough to give it character. But it wasn’t just the journal itself that made it special. On the first page, you’d written a small note explaining that you’d already filled some of the pages with questions and prompts—things you thought he’d enjoy pondering or writing about. Things that would challenge him or make him smile.

And tucked into the back pocket of the journal was a collection of vintage fountain pens you’d spent weeks hunting down online, knowing how much he loved handwriting notes and letters.

He stared at the journal in stunned silence, his fingers gently tracing the cover. When he finally looked up at you, his eyes were wide and glistening.

“This is…” he trailed off, clearly struggling to find the words. “This is incredible.”

“Do you like it?” you asked nervously, biting your bottom lip.

“Like it?” he repeated, his voice filled with disbelief. “I love it. This is… I don’t even know what to say.”

You laughed softly, relief flooding through you. “You don’t have to say anything. I just… I wanted you to have something that felt like you. Something thoughtful.”

He opened the journal to the first page, his eyes scanning over the note you’d written. You watched as a small, almost shy smile spread across his face, and your chest tightened at how beautiful he looked in that moment.

“This is one of the most thoughtful gifts anyone has ever given me,” he said, his voice quiet but full of emotion.

You felt your cheeks flush under his gaze. “I just wanted you to know how much I appreciate you. You’re always so thoughtful with everyone else, Spencer. I figured it was time someone returned the favor.”

He set the journal down on the counter and stepped closer to you, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your breath catch.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Really. This means so much to me.”

“You’re welcome,” you replied, your voice just as soft.

For a moment, neither of you moved. The air between you felt charged, heavy with something unspoken. And then, just when you thought you might drown in the tension, he reached out and pulled you into a hug.

It wasn’t just any hug, though. It was the kind of hug that made you feel safe, like you were exactly where you were supposed to be. His arms wrapped around you tightly, and you could feel the steady beat of his heart against your chest.

“Thank you,” he murmured again, his voice muffled against your hair.

You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to savor the moment. “You’re welcome, Spencer.”

When he finally pulled back, there was a softness in his expression that you’d never seen before. It made your heart ache in the best way.

“Would you…” he hesitated, looking almost nervous. “Would you want to come over tonight? I’d love to show you how I use the journal. Maybe we could talk about some of the prompts together.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the invitation. But the hopeful look in his eyes made it impossible to say no.

“I’d like that,” you said, smiling softly.

The grin that spread across his face was worth every second of doubt you’d had while planning his gift. And as you left the break room, your heart felt a little lighter, knowing that you’d made Spencer Reid feel as special as he deserved to feel.

[ikeuki]

four-letter word / 니키

( pairing ) nishimura riki x fem!reader ✶ highschool au, one-sided enemies to ??? ; fluff/crack, cursing — ( wordcount ) ?

ᯓ★ ikueki’s note. based off of tom’s monologue in ‘500 days of summer’ when talking about “hating” summer! this fic is from my old stranger things acc: @scwheeler (IT IS MY OLD ACC / MY WRITING) it was for mike wheeler originally…!

synopsis. riki can’t figure out his feelings towards you; he thinks he hates you but is it really hatred if he can’t get you out of his mind?

nishimura riki hates you.

he stared from across the classroom, watching you with crossed legs and back straight. you tapped your number two pencil on the wooden desk repeatedly, making a quiet yet annoying sound. it bothered him so much, only adding to the mental list of things he hated about you.

rather than staring now he was glaring. but he sat behind you and a couple rows over which meant you didn’t even notice. continuing to annoy him without a single thought.

he pressed down his pencil into his notebook until the lead snapped, making him also snap out of this trance. he looked down at his empty paper with a dark lead circle in the middle. he ripped out the sheet and crumpled it up, debating whether to throw it at your head or into the trash can.

he probably had a better chance shooting it at your head than landing it in the trash can according to his sports record but he refrained because your hair looked nice neat.

riki wasn’t suddenly choosing to be sympathetic or anything but he wasn’t a complete asshole.

or he thought of himself not to be. it must’ve taken you all morning for those bouncy curls and he knows how mad his sisters get when riki occupies the bathroom for more than thirty minutes before school. so he kept the crumpled paper and shoved it in his backpack, agreeing he’d either throw it to your head another day or throwing it away at the end of class.

“mr. nishimura—! i asked you a question, what is the answer to the question on the board?” the teacher asked in a stern tone, hands on his hips and trying to get riki’s unbothered attention.

riki quickly looked away from you, hoping you didn’t see him staring straight at the back of your head. you turned around from your seat to look at him as did the rest of the class.

he was out of it—a little preoccupied with thinking about something else, more of someone else.

his paper was blank. other than the crumpled up one he just shoved in his backpack. did he have notes on that page?before he could mutter an excuse or guess and pray to the gods he was right, a hand rose up in front of him.

it was yours…?

your arm popped up and attracted the teachers attention. “yes, ms. y/l/n?” he asked, now trailing his burning eyes away from riki and softening them towards you. unbelievable.

“if riki can’t answer it, i’d gladly do it myself,” you replied softly.

you didn’t speak in a sarcastic or rude manner. riki almost wished you did so then he would have a reason to hate you. but your tone was sincere like you wanted to help him.

“sure that would be great, go ahead,” the teacher proceeded and let you come up to the board. you took your notebook with you, it was covered in bright stickers and shiny gems matching your appearance.

riki watched as you sat up from your desk, the school uniform clinging to your body to fit your slight curves. he could’ve sworn the uniform’s skirt was shorter than you had on.

wait what—! why was he looking at your body or your uniform, nevertheless your existence…!

you picked up the small white chalk and wrote down your answer, copying your equation from your notebook. the class watched but riki observed. he thought about how you saved his ass from getting yelled at the teacher. why? after finishing the equation, you went to return to your seat. but before sitting down, your eyes met riki’s, flashing a quick smile.

in the brief moment, riki looked at you stunned. you didn’t wait for his reaction though and turned back to the teacher’s lecture. he shook his head, whatever. he hated you.

——

i hate her crooked teeth.

——

if he hates you so much, why was he up at three in the morning still thinking about your stupid smile. your pearly white teeth almost blinding him in the middle of math class.

his eyebrows knitted together and his eyes pierced through the ceiling of his bedroom. what was your problem? you didn’t do this to any other person in the school? you left everyone else alone—his classmates, his friends, his enemies—so why did you chose him? was this a punishment?

riki groaned and flipped to his side to face his bedside table, looking at the alarm clock reading 4:27 now. he spent almost four hours just thinking about you and it infuriated him. he liked girls before, girls in his class, girls on the tv, girls in his favorite movies. but he never stayed up thinking about him until this late hour.

also, he liked those girls! they were pretty and hot! he didn’t find you attractive or anything, so what made you so different?

was it your smile? it wasn’t even that nice! he’s seen better smiles in the newspaper and he could say his mom has a better one. yet you were the only thing on his mind and riki couldn’t stand the feeling.

he turned left and right, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep but it was no help. by the time, his eyelids were finally about to shut, they were disturbed by the bright light of the sun coming up. he hated you so much.

——

i hate her 1960’s haircut.

——

the next day at school, riki slung his backpack over his shoulder and waited at his friend’s locker. he agreed to meet heeseung before soccer practice afterschool and it wasn’t the first time the older boy was running late. riki didn’t mind all that much. if anything it meant an excuse to be late for practice, especially since heeseung was the coach’s nephew.

the only unfortunate thing about going to his locker was that yours was right next to it.

he managed to avoid bumping into you almost everyday. weirdly enough he tracked down your exact schedule with classes, meet up with friends, and when you needed your mid day snacks to get through the day.

heeseung commented on it one time, saying his uncalled “hatred” for you seemed more and more like a crush instead. riki almost blow a fuse right then and there in the middle of the soccer field. heeseung hasn’t mentioned it ever since.

unlucky for riki, you were quite an unpredictable person. most of the time you were walking with your usual friends, stopping by your locker to get your bio and calc textbooks. but on the rare occasions you were alone, you spent the entire passing period leaning against the metal wall texting away on your little phone.

this forced riki to hide behind the corner, peering over from time to time like a creep to wait for you to leave. he was even late once or twice just going to his locker at you finally left when the bell rang.

when his teacher asked why his eyes slowly trailed to you, who stared back at him innocently. unknown that you were the reason why he was late and got detention, for the fourth time now.

he could only shut up and take the yellow slip from his teacher. sliding into his desk in the back and staring out into the window in annoyance. why did he need to avoid you?

today was worse. worse than riki could ever imagine. he headed for his locker after fifth period and watched as you walked down the hall to your cheer practice as you always did afterschool. again, a little weird how much riki knew about you. anyways. he hurried to his locker and put in the code, opening it quickly. he grabbed a couple of his textbooks needed for homework and his soccer bag.

as soon as he closed the locker door, he almost had a heart attack. you were standing right there with you back facing him looking into a small magnetic mirror attached to the door of your locker.

you were applying another layer of strawberry chapstick, the one you carried everywhere and put on during first period, third period, and right after lunch by your locker.

so he was definitely surprised to see you standing right in front of him, puckering your lips and looking into the mirror. completely oblivious of riki standing behind you with a shocked expression saying ‘what the fuck!’ you didn’t even notice him staring at you for a full on five minutes.

riki would never admit it but you weren’t such an eye sore as he tried to convince himself all last night.

you were actually nice to look at. well-rounded and cute features that complimented your face. your hair was right in front of his face, the fruity fresh scents of strawberry and peach shampoo filling up his senses. without him even knowing, riki’s frown turned into a small smile.

your perfectly formed curls with a white headband, all sitting nicely on your shoulders made you look like a character from a 60’s cartoon. they moved side to side as you checked yourself out in the mirror, putting riki into a trance. but he snapped out of it as you put the cap back on of your chapstick, signaling him to return to his main goal: get to practice on-time.

he kept his eyes forward and tried to play it cool. walking down the hall, he just prayed you didn’t catch him ogling you for the past ten minutes.

unfortunately, by the time he got to the field, the coach had already started warm-ups and without the excuse of heeseung’s presence, riki only earned the team four extra laps to run. which no one was happy to do. god—how much he hated you right now.

——

i hate her knobby knees.

——

heeseung informed riki that the whole soccer team was required to attend the school’s pep rally as a part of the athletics committee. wanting to spend his friday night off doing better things (aka playing video games in heeseung’s basement until four a.m.), he continuously urged his friend to sneak out.

“what if we just slip out during the principal’s speech?” riki suggested to an unamused heeseung who already accepted his fate.

“if we get caught—our asses are DONE FOR. my uncle’s gonna kill us and definitely tell my mom.” heeseung seemed dead serious about refusing riki’s request, leaving the younger boy to only sit on the bleachers and wait for the soccer team to be announced.

after what felt like hours of speeches and addresses by the principal, teachers, and staff, a bunch of school-color, short uniforms filled the gym. it was the school’s cheerleaders, girls and boys all wearing color coordinated uniforms with scarily happy smiles plastered on their faces.

a single face stood out to riki. one that’s been distracting him in class, keeping him up at night, and keeping him in the hallways. his eyes immediately fell upon you, disregarding the other twenty girls and guys wearing the same outfit. you were the only one that caught his eye and he couldn’t tell why. was it cause of the locker interaction earlier today?

you were skipping in with a cute grin on your face, those stupid pearly whites blinding riki once again. you had pom pom in your hands, waving your arms in the air and saying hi to the crowd.

you didn’t spare riki a glance even once, unintentionally of course—how could you see him in a sea of hundreds of students! but he didn’t mind. at least it meant he could stare at you the entire time the cheerleaders introduction was happening.

what surprised riki was that you walked to the center as everyone got into formation. you were center stage. your smile was warm and lit up an entire room, the entire crowd beginning to feed into every word you said. when you said “go—!” they said “—team!”

then music suddenly started to play and the cheerleaders started a routine. one that you guys probably practiced a million times before. riki could see the nervousness in your face, hiding behind that smile you held so proudly.

he noticed your knees, you had skin tone band-aids all over them. underneath were obviously bruises, cuts, maybe even scars. people might’ve thought they were ugly but riki couldn’t help looking at them.

not like he was a sadist or anything but the bruises made you look more real. like you weren’t just another carbon copy of these cheerleaders who had perfect lives and appearances like the girls surrounding you.

you were different. something about you gave riki a hint that there was more to you than being a shallow popular girl.

you wouldn’t make fun of the so-called losers with the jocks behind the science building during lunch, their cheerleadering girlfriends joining in just because they can. or disregard the entire meaning of attending school to just dance in a tight outfit and fluffy pom poms in front of the entire school.

no, you were nowhere near those areas during lunch, riki saw you spending the time in the classroom, taking a nap to catch some extra z’s before the last two classes of the day or listening to music and researching choreography for the cheerleaders. in class, you always participated. you paid attention and studied, even helping the other struggling students in your free time.

maybe it was the way you helped him yesterday morning, answering his question and cutting off the teacher’s potential wrath. or you simply smiling at him the moment after.

either way, he found himself clapping for you after you finished your dance, enjoying your performance and rather disappointed to find it so short. heeseung was confused, wasn’t riki just giving suggestions on how to sneak out of here five minutes ago? now he was smiling and clapping like his own girlfriend was out there dancing in front of the crowd?

why did you make riki feel this weird? this good feeling he had whenever he saw you? he had to force himself to hate you to avoid his true feelings from spilling out.

and then, riki realized what the indescribable feeling—that takes over him as a whole every moment he lays his eyes on you—really was. he didn’t hate you.

he hated how you made him feel.

[pixiexdusts-world]

Blushing confessions

Hwang Jun-ho x shy!reader

Hwang Jun-ho stood in the aisle of the bookstore, arms crossed as he watched her from a few feet away. She was lost in her own world, flipping through the pages of a novel with a soft smile on her face.

She hadn’t noticed him yet—something he found both adorable and amusing. She’d dragged him here, insisting it would “just be a quick stop,” but thirty minutes later, here they were, with her completely absorbed and him thoroughly entertained.

Quietly, he walked up behind her and leaned down slightly. “Find something good?”

She jumped a little, spinning around to face him with wide eyes. “Jun-ho! You scared me!”

He chuckled, hands slipping into his jacket pockets. “Didn’t mean to. You just looked so focused, I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Her cheeks flushed a pretty pink, and she looked down at the book in her hands. “I, um, think I might get this one.”

“Only one?” he teased, glancing at the small pile of books she’d already picked out.

“I don’t want to carry too many,” she mumbled, still avoiding his gaze.

He smirked, reaching out to take the books from her. “I’ll carry them. Problem solved.”

Her eyes widened. “No, no! It’s okay! I can—”

“I insist,” he interrupted, already cradling the stack in one arm. “Besides, this way you can grab more if you want.”

She stared at him for a moment, her expression caught between gratitude and embarrassment. “You’re too nice to me,” she said softly.

He leaned in just enough to catch her eyes. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

She laughed quietly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s not. I just… I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you.”

Jun-ho tilted his head, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “If carrying a few books for you is all it takes to make you happy, then I think I’m getting off easy.”

Her blush deepened, and she looked down at her feet. “You’re too sweet.”

He reached out, gently tipping her chin up with his finger so she had to meet his gaze. “And you’re too shy for your own good,” he said, his voice soft. “You know I don’t mind, right? I like doing things for you.”

For a moment, she just stared at him, her lips parting slightly as if she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. Finally, she nodded, a small but genuine smile breaking through her shyness. “Thank you, Jun-ho.”

He grinned, stepping back and gesturing toward the shelves. “Now go pick out a couple more books before I change my mind.”

Her laughter was soft but bright, and she quickly turned back to the shelves, a new spark of confidence in her step. As he watched her, Jun-ho couldn’t help but think how much he loved these little moments with her—moments that were quiet, simple, and impossibly sweet.

[narrycherries]

ivy: and now I’m covered in you..

she can’t seem to keep herself out of trouble and it irritates him more than it should

(part 4)

masterlist / ivy series

word count: 14.3k

warnings/tags: harry x fem oc, alcohol use, angst, enemies to lovers

The small weekend getaway came quicker than Ivy anticipated it would. She had three weeks to mentally prepare for literally anything that was possible. Would she have a perfect weekend with no rude comments or harsh death glares, or would she feel the wrath of someone in particular’s attitude? She wasn’t sure, but she hoped she would be able to enjoy her time away. For the rather short car ride, she made sure to pack her current diary so she could jot down her thoughts if things become too chaotic in her mind.

Ivy mumbled a quiet ‘thank you’ to Niall as he grabbed her bag from her and tossed it in the trunk of his car.

“Got everything?” Emma asked just as Ivy grabbed the car door to get in.

“Yeah, I triple checked.”

Unfortunately for her, all the preparation she did to ensure herself that she’d be able to handle any situation that occured within the group was pretty much wasted. Emma told her that Niall insisted they carpool, and that they ride with him. That part wasn’t the issue, of course, it was the fact that someone else would be joining them. When Ivy opened the back door and quietly got in the car, she felt a pair of cold eyes looking her way.

Harry offered up the front seat to Emma, which led him to the back with her. He wasn’t necessarily thrilled with the arrangement either, but he could easily get over it, unlike Ivy. She was already feeling the nervousness building in her gut, threatening to spill out of her mouth and empty her stomach contents. No amount of preparation could have prepared her for this. She hadn’t been this close to him before, the table at the restaurant was much wider than the space between them in the car. Thankfully, Niall placed Emma’s rolled up throw blanket in the middle, securing the separation between them.

“Alright. Let’s hit the road.” Niall said with a sigh as he shut his door and quickly adjusted his rear view mirror.

Ivy had her small tote bag resting on her lap, it was filled with a few essential things along with some random things to keep her occupied in the car and during downtime at the hotel. She wanted to grab her diary already, they hadn’t even left the neighbor yet, and spill her guts out onto the pages. The radio was quietly buzzing in the car as Niall and Emma chatted amongst themselves about the directions. She was glad it wasn’t completely silent, and she was even more appreciative of the fact nobody was trying to make conversation with her.

She opted to let her eyes stare mindlessly out of the window as Niall navigated through the city. So far, she was content with his driving and she wasn’t feeling any sort of motion sickness from riding. Maybe this would be better than she first thought. As long as she was able to stay calm and focused on everything but the person next to her, then she’d be perfectly fine.

Thirty minutes into the drive, Ivy decided that she needed to busy herself with a task before she got the chance to get lost in her thoughts. She reached into her bag and pulled out the small book she had been using as a diary the past few weeks. She wrote an awful lot, so she filled books quickly. Her newest choice was a travel sized spiral bound notebook with a thick front cover decorated with a few random stickers she had. She clicked the pen, flipping to the page where she left off last. She wasn’t concerned with writing neatly, so she just held it in her opposite hand as she started to write.

Words were coming naturally to her, her thoughts filling the page so easily. This book just so happened to be slap full of inserts that pertained to Harry. They weren’t her thoughts of infatuation and obsession, but instead it was the worry and anxious ideas that lined the pages. After a few lines, she paused on the writing and decided to doodle a small flower in the lower corner of the page.

“Harry?” Niall said loud enough to catch Ivy’s attention.

She lifted her head and saw that Niall was looking in the mirror at him, but he was obviously not successful in getting him to answer. She looked over and saw that he had his arms over his chest, earbuds in his ears, and his eyes were staring out of the window. His music was loud enough for her to tell that he had it on, but she couldn’t make out anything specific.

“He’s listening to music.” She said after Niall called his name again.

He huffed. “Can you hit him? I need him to text Zayn.”

Ivy felt her throat start to swell. She had been so relaxed and calm during the drive, but it was all circling down the drain now. Niall had asked her a simple question, wanted her to do a small favor - she couldn’t act like he said something insane. She swallowed gently and pulled all of her courage together. Her heart stammered over a beat, missing it entirely, as she reached over to him. Ivy tapped her fingertip against his arm, just above his elbow. He didn’t jump or flinch, he simply turned his head to look at her. His brows were lowered, a bit of confusion on his expression. She expected him to react differently, assumed he would scream at her or ask her why she thought she could touch him.

When she pointed towards Niall, Harry dropped his eyes to his phone and picked it up from his leg, pausing his music and looking at Niall’s reflection in the mirror.

“What?” He mumbled out, not entirely pleased with being disturbed but it wasn’t that big of a deal.

“Can you text Zayn and ask them how far out they are? Cory’s driving them.”

Harry nodded, unlocking his phone so he could type. “Yeah.”

Ivy had already turned her attention back to her diary, but she was still working on the small bouquet of flowers she was drawing in the corner. It was definitely nothing artistic or perfect, just a little doodle to fill the space. She was aware of Harry’s presence again, and she didn’t want him to see her writing. After a couple of silent moments, she flipped the book shut and laid her hand over it, her curious eyes moving to the window.

“He said they’ve got like half an hour.” Harry said, his deep voice rattling through the car and cutting straight through the wall Ivy built up to avoid him.

She shifted her head enough so that she could look at him from the corner of her eye. An obvious stare would be entirely too awkward while in the car, so she stuck to her sneaky glances.

After assuming Niall didn’t want to say anything else to him, Harry turned his music back on and reverted to his previous position. Ivy found it intriguing how he was slowly moving his fingers that were tucked beneath his arm. The simple gesture was making her bite the inside of her cheek. He wasn’t even aware of it himself, yet she was focused on it like it was the most spectacular thing.

She couldn’t resist looking at the tattoos she could see living on his skin. The dark ink settled in his flesh was eye catching, she wondered if he had more she couldn’t see. While observing him from this point of view, she noticed a piercing hole in his lobe. She made a mental note to try to catch a glimpse of his other one to see if there’s a matching hole. She hadn’t noticed any earrings before, so maybe he didn’t wear them often. Her tongue poked out to coat her lips as she looked at his long eyelashes, they were resting gently on his cheek. Was he asleep? No, she didn’t think so. He just was relaxing and closing his eyes for a while. Her question was answered within a second as his eyes slowly peeled open, his gaze fixed on the window.

She moved her eyes down his frame. He was wearing a faded t-shirt with a design on the front that his arms hid from her view. He ditched his dark jeans for sweatpants, she supposed to be more comfortable during the drive. She was surprised he could appear so relaxed and normal, instead of uptight and cocky.

Ivy finally picked her eyes back up, choosing to stare at his face for a bit longer. Her eyes widened and flames burst on her cheeks as she met his eyes. She stayed like that, just staring at him, for a long moment. She wondered what he was thinking. Surely something along the lines of ‘this girl is crazy’. She felt the eruption of butterflies in her stomach, causing her to rip her gaze from his. She opted to stare at the back of the seat in front of her, embarrassed to have been caught by him. It wasn’t the first time she had been caught staring at him, and she feared it wouldn’t be the last.

He didn’t say anything to her, though. He wasn’t annoyed or irritated, he only looked her way because her stare was so intense. He could feel it on him, burning holes through him. Maybe she was just looking around the car while thinking about something and her eyes just so happened to land on him, or maybe it was purposeful - he wasn’t certain. He didn’t look away from her just yet. It was so easy to tell she was nervous. Was it because he caught her or was it because they were so close? It was most likely both. Harry ran his eyes over her, taking in her appearance and body language. She was like a statue, not daring to move one little bit. He just knew that if she looked back his way and saw he was still eyeing her down, she’d combust.

For the remainder of the drive, Ivy kept her eyes down on her notebook and Harry fixated his on the back of his eyelids. She was grateful that he had fallen asleep and couldn’t give her glances that took her breath away and made her heart race. The ride itself was calming, though. Niall and Emma didn’t talk much, just listened to the radio. Once they got to the hotel, Ivy sent Michelle a text to let her know they were there. They would be sharing a room for the weekend. The others arrived way before them and already had their room keys.

Niall popped the trunk and gestured for everyone to take their bags. Ivy reached in for hers, tugging it out of the pile and shoving the strap on her shoulder. She stepped back and accidentally brushed her bag against Harry. She didn’t notice, but he did. A light sigh came from his lips as she walked off to the door. Emma was following close behind her.

“We all should be on the same floor.” Emma said as they entered the lobby.

Ivy glanced over her shoulder. “I think so. Michelle said ours is on three.”

“Ugh. I have to wait for Niall to check in.” She groaned as Ivy headed to the elevator.

She stopped and decided to wait with Emma instead, just so she wouldn’t be by herself. Niall and Harry strolled through the door together, talking about something neither of the girls could hear. Niall went to the counter, leaving Harry to head to the elevator.

“Guess I’ll go over there.” Emma mumbled, grabbing her bag from the floor, then started the short trip to Niall.

Ivy took a deep breath as she prepared herself for what was about to come. She beat Harry to the elevator, but when she pushed the button it decided to be extremely slow. Cory was his roommate for the weekend, and he was waiting upstairs like everyone else. Harry came up behind her, his eyes fixed on the elevator door as he waited. Ivy wanted to throw up right there, just wanted to lose her mind and all control of her body. She didn’t want to be alone with him.

When the door opened, someone stepped out and gave them both a polite smile. Ivy returned it, she was sure Harry didn’t. She chose the spot closest to the control panel, hoping that Harry would wait for the next one. He didn’t do that, of course, he got on with her. He stood in the back corner, the furthest he could get from her in the small space. She pressed in the three button and glanced back at Harry, but when he didn’t say anything about a different floor, she turned her eyes back to the display of buttons.

The elevator was moving at snail speed. It felt like absolute torture. He was right behind her and there was nothing she could do to change it right now. She had to deal with it, and to be frank, she was failing at doing so. Her stomach was flipping and twisting inside of her body, her heart racing and skipping beats like she was falling from an airplane. Her feet felt like they weighed a ton as she stood still, not wanting to move any closer to him by accident.

Finally, after what felt like a torturous eternity, the elevator stopped and the door opened. Harry let her walk out first, and she did her best to get a good distance ahead of him. She didn’t know where his room was, and she didn’t necessarily care, she just had to find hers first. His strides were much longer than hers, and he was practically walking beside her down the hall. He kept space between them. It was obvious to him that she didn’t feel comfortable being so close to him, so he tried to keep the distance.

Her eyes hastily scanned over the room numbers, wishing that hers would magically appear. It seemed as though she was walking down an endless hall. Her worrying had taken over her body. In reality, her room was just a short walk from the elevator. She stopped as she found the room number, a sigh of relief escaping past her lips. She knocked on the door and waited patiently for Michelle to open it. Curiously, she turned her head to see where Harry ended up, and to her dismay.. his room just happened to be right next to hers.

A cool whiff of air made her skin crawl as Michelle opened the door, a smile on her face as she greeted Ivy with a quick hug. She grabbed her hand and pulled her inside the room.

“I haven’t picked a bed yet. I didn’t know your preference.. whether you wanted by the window or what.” Michelle said with a laugh as Ivy dropped her bag in front of the empty dresser.

“It doesn’t matter to me. I’ll take this one, I guess.” She gestured to the one closest to the window.

“Perfect!” Michelle picked her own bag off the floor and tossed it on the bed that was now hers for the weekend. “How was the drive?”

Ivy copied her, moving her bag onto the bed so she could unpack a few essential things. “It was nice. It was quiet and peaceful.”

Michelle scoffed. “Peaceful? With Niall and Harry?”

Ivy shrugged lightly as she crossed her legs on the bed. “We didn’t really.. talk or anything. I think everyone was tired.”

When she looked towards Michelle, she didn’t expect to be met with a narrow gaze and pursed lips. She didn’t look like she believed what had been said to her. Ivy tried to ignore it, maybe she was just in shock that Niall’s energetic demeanor wasn’t present during the drive.

“So.. nothing else happened with Harry?” Michelle asked curiously as she took out the ensemble she would be wearing later.

“No.. He didn’t say anything to me. It was very calm.”

“Well that’s good. Maybe he’s warming up to you.”

Michelle’s words were comical. If anything, they were more cold to each other than when they first met. Ivy didn’t want to be in the same room with him, and he didn’t seem to give a damn about her existence. She decided to let it go and not focus on the worrying thoughts right now.

“How was the drive for you?” Ivy asked, wanting to change the topic away from herself.

Michelle shook her head. “It was interesting. Cory and Zayn had some weird conversations.”

“I can only imagine. I’ve only heard a few of their stories.. but I already know they’re crazy together.”

As Michelle got up to grab one of the hotel hangers, she continued talking. “Yeah, they’re a good time, though. Hey, you missed our last show. Are you gonna come to the next one?”

Ivy swallowed as she contemplated what to say back. She purposely chose to skip the show two weeks ago. Emma begged her for days to change her mind, but she ultimately decided it would be better if she didn’t. She didn’t want to be around Harry at the time. The dinner situation had soured her feelings again, made her very confused with herself. Niall wasn’t offended by her decision, though, he assured her they would have another show soon that she could attend. She used the excuse of being overworked and wanting to relax, and it worked for the most part.

“Um, probably. I told Emma I would.” She said almost hesitantly. She didn’t want to promise something then change her mind and break it. “When is it?”

“Three weeks.” Michelle said as she fixed her outfit on the hanger and put it in the small closet. She didn’t want it to have wrinkles once it was time to get dressed.

“I’ll try to. I won’t make any other plans or anything.”

“Good! We can have a redo. Hopefully everything will go perfectly.”

Ivy let out an unamused laugh. “Yeah.. hopefully.”

“Zayn and Alyssa are across the hall, by the way. And Cory and Harry are next to us.” Michelle said as she glanced down at her phone, a text coming through. “And looks like Niall and Emma are a few rooms down.”

Ivy didn’t say, just gave her a nod when Michelle looked over at her. She felt a sting in her stomach as she realized Harry was on the other side of the wall she was staring at. What was he doing in there? Was he catching up with Cory, was he unpacking his clothes, was he laying down to finish the nap he took in the car? She found herself really lost in wondering what he could be up to. If she knew anything for sure, it was that this was going to be a long weekend.

—•—

Michelle was humming quietly to herself as she stared at her reflection in the mirror hanging on the wall, checking to see if her makeup looked good. Ivy looked at her from the bathroom doorway, she had just finished applying her makeup and putting her jewelry on.

“You look great.”

Michelle smiled and turned to face her. “Thanks. So do you, hot stuff!” She waved her hand in front of her face, pretending to faint.

Ivy rolled her eyes and walked out of the bathroom, a shy smile on her lips as she grabbed the small purse she brought along to carry. It was on a gold colored chain that she could put over her body, keeping the bag close to her. She caught a glimpse of her reflection and decided to admire it for a moment. Michelle watched with a proud grin as Ivy rotated in the mirror, looking at her self in great detail. She had to make sure everything was perfect.

“This dress doesn’t make my stomach poke out too much, does it?” She asked as she started to chew on her cheek.

Michelle moved to be next to her, her eyes landing on their reflections. “You look great.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I don’t think it draws attention to your stomach at all. It’s not too tight, not too loose. It’s very flattering on you.” Michelle explained further, hoping she would help the anxiety disappear.

“And the color? Dark green isn’t.. ugly on me, is it?”

Michelle examined the dark green fabric of the dress, noting how nice it looked against her skin and with her hair. “It’s hot. Makes your eyes pop. You look good.”

Ivy took a deep breath and very slowly pushed it out. “Thanks.”

“You worry too much.” Michelle playfully pinched her elbow. “You’re gorgeous.”

“I.. I don’t know about that.” Ivy mumbled back as she gently pushed her hair over her shoulder, exposing the thick strap of her dress. She thought the dress was nice, so hearing that Michelle believed the same was reassuring. “I just get.. nervous.”

“No need to be nervous, trust me. You’re glowing, darling.” Michelle gave her a laugh and a quick hug, wanting her to feel better about her appearance.

Michelle left her side to put her shoes on, leaving Ivy to stare at herself alone. She felt her throat go dry as she twisted her body from side to side, kicking her leg out gently and posing for herself. She wasn’t as confident as she wanted to be right now. Michelle eyed her the whole time, and it was obvious that Ivy wasn’t pleased.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Michelle said as she stayed perched on the foot of the hotel bed.

“Yeah.”

“Why do you think you’re not hot? Like.. I can tell you want to love the way you look right now.. but something’s stopping you.”

Although Emma was a very close friend, she had never asked anything like that before. Emma was always so supportive and did her best to hype Ivy up. Michelle seemed more interested in solving the problem. Ivy let out a quiet laugh and turned away from the mirror, opting to stare at her own feet instead.

“Well.. there’s gotta be something wrong with me.” She shrugged, a nonchalant expression taking over her face.

Michelle frowned and stood up, immediately going to grab her elbows to get her attention. When Ivy lifted her head up to look at her, she could tell something was wrong. It went farther than the fit of a dress. There wasn’t much Ivy could do to escape this, so she just stayed silent and waited for Michelle to say something.

“What do you mean?”

Ivy licked her lips, her eyes trailing off to stare at the wall behind Michelle. “I don’t know.. I must be.. not attractive.”

“Why are you saying that? Has someone told you that before?” Michelle was quick with her responses, not wanting to give the impression that she didn’t care to listen.

“No, but.. do you see a man here?” Ivy looked around, lifting her brows as the weighted thoughts began to come out of her mouth. “I’m obviously not.. attractive enough to be someone’s girlfriend.”

Michelle felt her own heart sink at the words that left her mouth. “Ivy, don’t say that. You’re literally so beautiful. Any decent guy would see that. You’re a prize. You’re sweet and funny and kind.. on top of being gorgeous.”

She shook her head and tried her best to compose herself, she didn’t want to cry and ruin her makeup. She spent too long getting ready to have it all smudged. Michelle released her arms, but didn’t move back. Ivy wondered why it was so important to Michelle, why did she care so much?

“I don’t really want to talk about it anymore.” She mumbled under her breath, turning away from Michelle entirely. She was aware of the time and knew they had to meet the others in the lobby soon. “We should go.”

Michelle wanted to keep the conversation going, but she didn’t want to cross any lines or press any wrong buttons. Ivy clearly didn’t want to discuss any more, so she was going to respect that. She thought maybe she could carry it on when they got back, or even tomorrow while they were alone in the room. Right now wasn’t the time.

When they got to the lobby, almost everyone was waiting in a small huddle. Zayn and Alyssa were the only ones not downstairs. As soon as Emma laid her eyes on Ivy, she squealed and ran over to her, excitedly hugging her like they’d been apart for months. She complimented her outfit and raved about how perfect she looked, which warranted a shy shake of the head from Ivy. Michelle added a few comments to further empower her, making sure to give her a bright smile. She was grateful for the kind words and she hoped they would remain in her head for the rest of the night. She wasn’t going out to purposely hunt for a man, she just wanted to have fun with everyone.

Once Zayn and Alyssa finally joined them, they headed out of the door. The place they were going was just a few short blocks away, and everyone agreed on walking there. Taking a cab back to the hotel later that night would most likely be everyone’s decision, but for now they were fine with walking together. Niall made a comment about Emma and Ivy wearing heels, but they both assured him they were perfectly fine. Other than that, everyone either kept to themselves or made small talk as they walked down sidewalks and crossed roads, zigzagging through the area.

Ivy was well aware that she was walking in front of Harry, and that nobody was walking behind him. Their group had to form a line when they got to the busier sections of the area, not wanting to be in anyone’s way as they passed through. She wasn’t sure how she ended up behind Michelle, but she was somewhat glad that she wasn’t at the very end. Although she was comfortable and confident in her heels, they did make her walk just a tad bit slower than normal. Just as they were about to reach a corner where they needed to turn, her phone buzzed in her small purse. She furrowed her brows and pulled it out, unsure of who was texting her. It was a message from her dad asking if she was still planning on going to see him next weekend. She was typing up a reply, a smile on her face as she stared at the screen. She hadn’t seen her dad in a few weeks, he had been so busy with work, so she was excited for the plans they had made. The moment she pressed the send button, she felt her weight shift and a shriek flew from her mouth.

Before she could fall and hurt her ankle or scrape up her exposed skin, something grabbed onto her and tugged her the opposite way, steadily her body on the sidewalk. She looked down and saw the curb, she was extremely close to stepping off it and falling into the road. When she turned her head to look next to her, her heart started to pump faster than it ever had before.

Ivy was met with a stern glare from a set of familiar green eyes. He had his lips in a straight line, his brows tight on his forehead. She quickly licked her lips and tried to speak, but he interrupted her before she could even take a breath.

“Watch where you’re walking.” Harry said through a huff as he finally released the pressure his hand created on her arm.

She swallowed the lump that was trying to stop up her throat. “Sorry, thanks.”

He gave her a weird look. “Why are you apologizing? Just pay attention.”

Ivy couldn’t verbally respond, something inside of her was preventing that from happening. She could only nod and give him a soft smile, which he didn’t return in any way. He gestured for her to start walking again to catch up with the others, they had already turned the corner. She got the gist and began walking again, this time with her phone tucked away in her purse and her eyes fixed on what was ahead of her. Harry’s presence stayed behind her, close enough for her to sense him, but far enough to keep a distance. He didn’t want to run into her if she decided to distract herself again.

—•—

Ivy was slightly overwhelmed by the thick crowd of people they ended up being stuck in the middle of. She made sure to stay close to everyone else to prevent getting lost or swept away by a sea of people. The event space was much larger than the bar they had her in weeks ago, but that definitely didn’t mean there was any free standing room anywhere. She felt a little bit of suffocation, but she hoped the drink in her hand would ease her nerves.

Niall was yelling over the music at Michelle and Alyssa, trying to explain something to them but Ivy really couldn’t hear him. She kept her eyes to herself, not wanting to accidentally find herself staring at anyone. Emma was already swaying her hips side to side to the music, bumping into Ivy every now and then. She wanted to get comfortable and enjoy the music, too, but she was still too nervous. So, she just sipped her drink and waited patiently for it to kick in.

The band wasn’t supposed to come for another fifteen minutes, they had been there for half an hour already. Niall’s hand was clutching a beer, Cory and Zayn started off with two shots each. Ivy noticed while they were at the bar earlier that Alyssa didn’t get anything. Maybe she wasn’t big on drinking. The rest of them got something to start the night with.

“I love this song!” Emma yelled happily, grabbing Ivy’s hand as she jumped up and down. She just laughed and gave her a nod, not as enthused by the music as Emma was. “Dance with me!”

“Maybe later!” She yelled back, lifting her drink to indicate she’d need another, or possibly three before she could let loose.

Emma groaned, but decided to not let it drag her mood down. She turned to Niall, pulling him from his conversation and forcing him to somewhat dance with her. He was mostly just nodding his head and grinning at her. Michelle was starting to vibe with the music, facing towards Alyssa in an attempt to get her to join. She soon did, leaving Zayn to talk with Cory and Harry.

Harry.. Of course she hadn’t forgotten about him. She made a few quick glances at him since they arrived, but she tried her best to mind her business. She was afraid something would be said, that same old feeling she gets when she’s around him. It was almost too natural of a feeling. But she couldn’t really resist the temptation, especially since he was so close to her. He was leaning in to Cory and Zayn when he spoke so they could hear him over the loud music. He put a smirk on his lips and laughed a few times, making Ivy’s heart skip a beat.

She thought he looked rather well put together tonight. His hair was a bit messy from the gentle breeze during the walk over, but it still looked so perfect. He was wearing his usual dark jeans, paired with a pair of black boots with a short heel, and a blue shirt. The sleeves were purposely rolled and pushed up to his elbows, his tattoos on display for anyone’s lingering eyes. She even caught a whiff of his cologne while they were walking, when he caught her, and she thought it was nice. Her teeth bit down on her cheek as she looked at his chest, some of his skin exposed from the undone buttons. She thought it was an interesting look, but it fit his style well. He was as eye catching as ever.

It was so easy for her to get lost in him. She tore her eyes away, looking towards Emma but she was fully caught up with Niall and not worried about anything else. That feeling of being the odd one out was building in her gut. Everyone was accompanied by someone except her.

Ivy’s attention fell to her drink. She shook the cup, watching the ice swirl in the liquid. She should’ve gotten something stronger. She huffed to herself before taking a drink. Maybe if she drank it faster it would work better. The thought of Harry had quickly faded from her mind, the new worry of being alone was taking over entirely. It was hard to not feel like she didn’t belong. Even though this isn’t the first time she’s been around everyone, she still didn’t know them as well as they knew each other. Sure, she could spark up a conversation would Zayn if she wanted to, but what if he was responding just to be polite? The idea of them pretending to like her was difficult to ignore. She didn’t want to be so anxious about it and let those crazy thoughts run wild, but it was almost impossible to stop it once it begins.

Time slipped by while Ivy stayed to herself. There was an announcement that the band was about to come on the stage on the other side of the room. It was much larger than the theater-turned-club stage she watched them perform on. This was definitely a much bigger venue with a more serious act taking stage. Niall yelled something about trying to get closer, which prompted Emma to take Ivy’s hand. As a group, they navigated through the crowd. Not everyone was turned towards the band, so it was easier to slide through.

They didn’t get right up on the stage, but they weren’t far. Emma let go of her hand once they were settled in a space. She was excited about the show and hoped that it would make her forget all the things filling her head. Before long, the band filed onto the stage and started their set. Emma made sure to stay next to her, which she appreciated immensely. She was sort of worried about being knocked over or pulled from the group by people shoving their way through. Nobody seemed to be pushing around just yet, though.

For the most part, the experience was very fun and positive for Ivy. The worry she had suffered through was far gone now. She was enjoying the music and knew most of the songs they were doing. She danced and cheered through their original songs, as well, not carrying that she hadn’t heard them before. It was exhilarating to just jump around and throw her hands up in the air. She had successfully pushed down all those anxious thoughts and emotions that were bothering her. She felt happy and free, like nothing could stop this high.

Niall and Cory offered to make a run to the bar for everyone, so she gladly threw in her drink order. She was definitely feeling the buzz of the alcohol creeping through her veins, and she was craving more of it. As soon as they returned, she started drinking from the new plastic cup. Her hips never stopped moving to the music, Emma grabbing her every now and then to dance together.

Everything was going well, it almost seemed too good to be true. Ivy kept her focus on the band, not caring what was going on around her aside from Emma. Niall had her attention now though, so Ivy was dancing along to the music on her own. She was so into the moment that she didn’t realize she was moving around so much, until she backed into something that stopped her.

She turned slightly to apologize to the random person she hit, but she audibly gasped and her eyes went wide. Harry was standing there, a gentle lift of his brow served as his response.

“Sorry!” She yelled over the music, her stomach dropping as she realized he had been behind her while she was dancing.

He rolled his eyes and gave her a nod, instantly shifting his stare back to the stage. She was unsure of how long he had been behind her, the last time she checked he was over by Zayn and Alyssa, the complete opposite side of the space their lot was taking up. There was no need to worry over it, she shook it from her mind and continued where she left off.

Emma squealed and immediately dropped Niall’s hands to turn to Ivy. The band was doing another cover, and this time it was one of their favorite songs to karaoke together. Ivy let out a laugh as Emma grabbed onto her waist and pulled her close. Niall shook his head and just chuckled at them, letting them have their moment together.

The girls were extremely expressive as the Joan Jett song blasted through the room. They were both impressed by the band’s performance of the song, and they showed their support by singing and dancing along. With every whip of Ivy’s head from side to side, her hair swung in the air. Emma was practically screaming the lyrics out, feeling like she was on another planet. If they did anything right together, it was have the time of their lives.

Once the song ended, Ivy had to catch her breath. She shook her head when Emma tried to make her keep on, the next song was just as good. She couldn’t handle it right now, she was out of breath and her throat hurt from all the screaming. Emma chose to focus on Niall again, forcing him to dance now, leaving her to collect herself.

Even though she craved water, she didn’t dismiss the drink in her hand. Somehow, most of the liquid managed to stay in the cup. She took a big guzzle, aiming to coat her mouth with the cold feeling to soothe it. The effects of the alcohol were the least of her worries. As much as she loved to dance and sing with Emma, she was worn out already. A good ten or so minutes of staying idle would do her some good.

A grunt pushed past her lips as she felt her stomach twirl around. Maybe she shouldn’t be jumping around so much while there’s alcohol roaming in her body. She pressed her hand to her stomach, taking a few slow breaths to try and calm herself. The last thing she wanted to do was throw up. Thankfully, after a few more minutes of staying still and focusing on settling herself down, her stomach stopped aching and she felt much better.

The feeling didn’t stick around very long, though. She was nodding her head to the music, enjoying the current song the band was playing, when someone started pushing their way through the crowd. Ivy’s eyes were locked on the band as she peeked between all the heads in front of her to get a good look at them. She didn’t notice that someone was trying to get by.

She jumped the second she felt a hand on her waist. Her body was pushed to the side, the person trying to get by then easily walked past her. Her instincts kicked in and she realized someone was actually touching her. She grabbed the wrist of the hand and pushed it down, her nails scratching into skin. When she turned to scream at the stranger she assumed she’d see, her mouth went dry and her lips fell part, no words coming out. Harry gave her an irritated look, glancing down at his now scratched hand.

“You were in the way.” He told her loudly, forcing his voice over the music.

She swallowed gently. “I.. I didn’t know.”

Harry gave her a sarcastic gasp. “Obviously.”

Ivy wanted to be more confident in herself than she had managed to be all day, so she quickly gave it back to him. “You’re so rude.”

“Says the one who was in the damn way.” He lifted the corner of his mouth, amused by her comeback.

She rolled her eyes at him and turned back around, hoping to forget that he was there. There was an angry feeling sparking up in her gut. How could someone show such arrogance over a simple situation? She could have thanked him for moving her aside so she wouldn’t get shoved, but she figured he didn’t care about her gratitude. And more than that, he didn’t deserve it.

After another hour, the band had finished their set and everyone agreed that they’d stay a bit longer and enjoy the night. Some of the crowd had disappeared, leaving the place easier to navigate through, but it was still a good number of people around. Ivy went with Emma and Michelle to the bathroom, separating themselves from the others. They joined the short line that was waiting inside. Ivy let a deep breath push through her nose as her body leaned against the wall. She didn’t care about the sanitary conditions of the bathroom, she had other things on her mind.

Michelle took notice and gently nudged her. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head and licked her lips quickly. “Nothing.. just got a little sick to my stomach earlier.”

“Do you feel sick?” Emma frowned back.

Ivy shrugged, even though she knew the feeling was more because of anxiety than sickness, she didn’t want to tell them what had happened. She was sure nobody noticed, they were all so distracted by everything going on around them. The less she talked about Harry, the easier it was to imagine it was all fake. She didn’t want him to be there, she didn’t want him to exist in her life, she didn’t want to keep those small moments alive in her mind. Why did he have to be walking behind her on the sidewalk, why was he so close to her while the band was playing, why did he care if someone pushed her over or not? Why was he so worried about her, and why did she let it bother her so much?

“No, I think I was just doing too much earlier.. with the dancing. I’m okay now.” She assured them with a quick smile.

“Okay, if you say so.” Emma didn’t seem to believe it, but she wasn’t going to stress her out by prying. “If you feel like you wanna leave.. let me know and we can head back.”

“Yeah, I’ll go with you, too, if you want.” Michelle reached up and casually pushed Ivy’s hair over her shoulder. “Especially if you feel sick.”

“Thanks.. but I’m pretty sure I’m okay right now.”

They didn’t have to wait very long to get into a stall. Once they were all done, they left the bathroom together. Ivy thought about stopping by the bar for some water, but she didn’t want to cause an inconvenience. Maybe one of the guys would offer to go to the bar for everyone and she could take advantage of that.

The girls made their way back to where they left Niall and Cory. Zayn and Alyssa had gone off to be on their own and Harry was nowhere around. Emma kept an eye on Ivy to make sure she wasn’t getting sick. She made sure to tell Niall that they might possibly have to leave earlier than planned if something happened. Ivy overheard them talking and she assured Niall she was fine.

It didn’t take long for Emma and Michelle to start moving to the music again. Emma grabbed Ivy’s hand and playfully shook her arm around, trying to get her to participate. She gave them a laugh and joined them, but she kept her feet grounded. The jumping was too intense earlier, she needed to stay more relaxed. The music playing through the speakers was good, they all seemed to enjoy it.

The chaotic scene of the club was enough to keep her mind off of things for a while. She swayed side to side to the music, occasionally grabbing onto Emma to belt out lyrics with her. After a while, the need for something to drink was weighing on her, making her throat dry and her head start to spin. Ivy tapped Emma’s shoulder to get her attention, she was talking to Niall about something as a slower song was playing.

“I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going? Are you feeling bad?” Emma’s brows dropped and she frowned, instantly worried for her friend.

Ivy smiled and shook her head. “No, just thirsty.”

“Oh.. okay!”

Niall leaned closer so he could talk over all the noise. “Be careful.”

“I will. I’ll be right back!”

With a sigh, she walked off from them, heading towards the bar. As she made her way there, she let herself reflect on the night’s events. All the dancing and singing was so joyful and exciting, she was grateful for the fun experience. Everyone was getting along, nothing too crazy had occurred. Sure, she had a few incidents with Harry, but nobody else was a witness to them that she was aware of. Knowing that made it sort of easier to deal with. She didn’t have to worry about whether or not they would get irritated with her, too. She was glad the moments she had to share with him weren’t full of hateful comments or rude looks like the previous ones had been. He wasn’t necessarily the sweetest person tonight, but at least he was better than normal.

For once in her life, she actually felt like she belonged within a group. Those unsure worries about whether they liked her or not had faded. Most of them had proved they did enjoy her company, and she definitely enjoyed theirs. The dynamics of the group were so different, everyone had their own personality and somehow they all merged together well. Harry was sort of an outlier, but only when it came to Ivy. He was perfectly fine with everyone else.

When she finally got to the bar, she let out a sigh of relief. There was an open stool at the end and she gladly took it. The bartender noticed her and gave her a lift of his finger, indicating he’d be over to her in a minute. She just smiled back and waited patiently. She folded her hands on the bar, looking down at her painted nails. The red polish shifted colors beneath the colored lights.

Ivy covered her mouth as she yawned, a tired feeling creeping into her body. She knew she didn’t want to be the one to make everyone go back to the hotel early, so she’d just have to push through it and wake herself up. The bartender came over to her, smiling as he asked how he could help her. She asked for a cup of ice, an awkward confession of how she wasn’t feeling the best followed her request. He gave her a laugh and said he understood the feeling.

“It’s on me! Take care of yourself.” He said as he passed her the plastic cup full of ice cubes.

“Oh, thank you!”

Ivy twisted the stool around so that she could prop her elbow on the bar and look out at the dancing crowd. Some people were just standing around talking or laughing, but most of them were doing some form of dancing. She tipped the cup back, a piece of ice falling into her mouth. She let it sit on her tongue for a few moments, slowly melting as the warmth of her mouth engulfed it. The feeling was calming, she felt like she was recovering already. The plan was to sit for a few minutes and eat a couple pieces of ice, then she’d go back to where she left from.

When she finished her second piece, she reached into her purse to grab her lip gloss. She could feel the dryness of her lips and had to take care of that. Her phone acted as a mirror while she applied the gloss over her lips, fully coating each of them. She rubbed them together, then smiled at herself to make sure nothing spread past the line of her lips.

“You didn’t miss a spot.”

Ivy quickly pulled her phone down and turned her head, her eyes meeting those of a stranger. It was a man with dark hair, he was tall with broad shoulders. A smile shaped his mouth, a set of shiny white teeth popping out behind his lips.

She gulped gently and let out a slightly nervous laugh. “Yeah, I guess not.”

He let his eyes quickly roam over her body. She kept her stare on his face, watching every move he made closely. That anxious feeling she fought off so often was returning, but even she knew that it was for a real reason this time.

“Are you not drinking tonight?” He asked, nodding his head to the cup of ice. The question was posed in a way that made it seem like he knew her so well.. like he was surprised she wasn’t drinking.

She went along with it, just to prevent anything drastic from happening. “Um, taking a break for right now.”

“If you want to end that break, I could get a drink.” The cocky smirk he put on for her was not pleasing to her eyes.

Ivy sucked on the inside of her cheek for a moment as she glanced at her ice cubes. “I think my break will last the rest of the night.”

He gave her a very slow nod, his eyes moving away from her for the first time since he approached. He shifted his weight, looking past her at the person next to her on the stool. Maybe he thought she didn’t know that person, since it didn’t seem like she was making a point to give them any attention. A thousand thoughts started to fill her mind as she started to consider all the different ways this could play out. She took a mental note of what he was wearing, just in case. It was a burgundy collared shirt with a pair of dark wash, loose fitting jeans. He dressed like any other guy, which made him blend in too easily.

“So, are you here with someone?” He finally asked, lifting his brows as he moved his eyes back to her face.

She was quick to contemplate lying or not. If she said she was here with a man, and this person had been watching her, then he’d know that wasn’t true. If he just saw her at the bar and not any other time tonight, then maybe she could get away with it. The thing was, she didn’t know what he knew about her. She was nervous that he had been watching her and was waiting for an opportunity.

Ivy pushed down the lump in her throat and remained confident, not wanting him to see that she was becoming afraid. “With a group of friends, yeah.”

“Oh, friends?” He said, looking around at the people who clearly didn’t know her. Nobody had interacted with her since she got to the bar, aside from him.

“Yeah.” She kept her reply short and simple, hoping he’d get the point.

Unfortunately, that didn’t seem to be the case. He leaned closer to her, his hand reaching out to touch her waist. She stiffened on the stool, her back straight as she tried to keep her distance. His hand wasn’t gripping her tight, but it was definitely pressed against her.

“Let me get you a drink.” He said with a chuckle, trying to play like he was flirting but she knew it was something more dangerous.

She gently shook her head and lifted her hand between them. “No, thanks. I’m not.. drinking anymore.”

He gave her a look that made her skin crawl. “Don’t want to have some fun with me?”

“Um, I should.. get back to my friends.” She said with a fake smile, pushing against his chest to move him.

At first he didn’t budge, but after a moment he leaned back, his hand falling from her side. “C’mon, don’t be so uptight. Let me show you a good time.”

The very second he took a step back, she saw the opportunity to escape. Ivy slid off the stool, abandoning her cup of ice on the bar, and started hastily walking away. When she looked over her shoulder, she saw that he pushed himself off the bar and started walking in the same direction. Her stomach dropped as she quickly came to terms with what was happening. There was nothing she could do other than run through this crowd and make it to Emma.

Ivy darted her eyes around, trying to find familiar things she made sure to take notice of when she walked off. She had to find her way back somehow, but it seemed her tricks weren’t working. The anxiety flooding through her body was shielding her memory - she couldn’t think of anything else. Her lungs felt heavy as she pushed through the crowd, trying her best to find Emma or Niall or somebody she knew. Maybe she’d run across Zayn, she hadn’t seen him in a while. She was getting sick to her stomach, its contents threatening to come up.

She took another look behind her, and even through the people she moved past, she saw him. His eyes were scanning around, searching for her as she weaved through the dancing bodies.

The mix of colorful lights flashing all around the space was making it difficult for her to make out anything. She thought she was losing her mind, she couldn’t focus on anything. Strangers’ faces littered the room, she couldn’t find anyone she recognized. How long could she out run him? How big was this building? Would she be able to seek refuge in the women’s restroom or would he disregard any barriers and search for her there? Could she make it back to the front where the security guard was? Her feet were starting to feel weak as the worry spiraled in her mind. She was going to get hurt, she just knew it. The night had been going so well, something just had to ruin it like always.

Ivy suddenly broke through the edge of the crowd, making her stumble over her own feet. Her body shook with each desperate pant, her lungs trying so hard to stay strong. She twisted her head around, trying to find something to shelter herself. She saw no kind of doors to slip into, the restrooms were on the opposite side as was the entrance. She didn’t even know where she was.

Tears swelled in her eyes as she decided to keep walking, trying to throw him off her tracks. Maybe if she cut back into the crowd and went a different direction, she could lose him entirely. She nervously walked on the edge of the crowd, mumbling quiet excuse me’s that nobody heard. She kept her eyes on alert, trying to find one of the people she knew. It was like everyone had disappeared.

Ivy let out a delicate whimper as she felt tears slide down her cheeks. She was terrified to stop walking, to turn around. She feared he would be there to grab her again, and this time he’d force his way to what he wanted. She reached into her purse, digging out her phone to try and make a call to someone. She had one bar of service, and she wasn’t sure if the others had any at all. She tried to call Emma, but it went to voicemail as if her phone was dead. Her hand was shaking so hard she almost dropped her phone. She was so afraid that she completely thought over the idea of calling Niall. The phone ended up back in her purse, and her eyes moved over her shoulder.

Her stomach churned as she saw him further back. He had lost sight of her for a minute, and it caused their distance to grow. He was determined to find her, and she was absolutely horrified. She had never been in a situation like this. She almost always stayed with Emma when they went out. She never strayed away like that, especially in a place she’d never been to before.

Just as she was about to slip back into the sea of people, she spotted someone she recognized. Of course, it wasn’t the best option out of everyone she knew, but it was better than nothing. She quickened her pace and aimed straight for him. It was Harry, pulled away from the crowd with his hand on a woman’s hip. He was clearly occupied and enjoying the company he had. Ivy wasn’t necessarily focusing on what he was doing, but she saw how a smirk was stuck to his lips as he listened to whatever the woman was saying to him.

Ivy practically threw herself on him, her hands grabbing onto his arm instantly. The woman he was holding smacked her lips and said something to him, but Ivy didn’t care to listen. Harry tried to shake her off, and after a few seconds she let him go, but she didn't move away.

“Ha-Harry.” She choked on his name, quickly shooting her eyes over her shoulder to see if he was near.

“Go away.” Harry grunted, giving her an annoyed expression. He was still holding onto the woman, so he guided her a few feet away, trying to get away from Ivy.

“Harry.” She said his name again, this time louder.

The woman didn’t appear to like that he was attracting attention that wasn’t from her. She told him to forget it and rolled her eyes as she turned away from him.

“What the fuck do you want?” He threw his hands in the air as he moved to face Ivy, who he was very irritated by.

“Please just act like you know me for five minutes!” She whined out, her eyes pleading with him.

That’s when he noticed she was crying, but he was confused. “Huh?”

“Please!” She yelled back, her hand reaching up to grab onto his shirt. She didn’t even realize she was doing it.

Harry just stared at her a moment, then looked down to where she was fisting his shirt. “What’s wrong with you?”

“There’s.. there’s a guy following me and.. I’m scared.” She looked past her shoulder again, then quickly back to him. “Harry, please.”

He moved his eyes behind her, trying to see if he could figure out what she was looking at. “Following you? What happened?”

For the first time since they’ve met, she could tell he was sincere with his concern. He leaned his head down so he could hear her over the music. Her wet eyes looked over his features as she tried to gather her thoughts. Everything was happening so fast. His green eyes were softened as he fixed them on her, and his brows were furrowed as he waited for an answer. This is when she realized she was clutching his shirt. She nervously looked down at her hand, then released her grip on him. He didn’t say anything about it, just watched her closely.

“I.. I was at the bar.. by myself.. and this guy kept bothering me.” She explained in a broken voice, her eyes searching his face for something she wasn't even sure of. She was just trying to distract herself from what was going on. “I.. I walked off and he started following me.”

“Why the fuck were you by yourself?”

She huffed. “I don’t know! I.. I couldn’t find Emma or Niall or anyone.. I-I just saw you.”

Harry let out a sigh and let his eyes linger behind her again. “What’s he wearing?”

“He’s behind me, I know he is. I saw him.”

He glanced at her, wishing she would just tell him but he understood she was afraid. “Show me.”

Ivy nodded slowly and turned her head back, once again searching for his presence behind her. And immediately she saw him, he was looking around, walking slower with his hands stuck in his pockets. He had a snarl on his face, like he was pissed off that he lost sight of her again. When she returned her eyes to Harry, he furrowed his brows tighter. It was so easy to see how terrified the girl was. As much as he acted like he usually didn’t care about anything at all, he was taking this very seriously.

“Who is it?”

“The guy right there.. by the girl with the blue dress on.”

Harry easily saw who she was referring to. He had never been in the situation where he had to do this for one of his friends, but he was smart enough to figure out the obvious solution.

“Stay close to me, alright?” The way his hand curved to fit against her waist felt more natural than it was supposed to.

She kept her eyes on his chest, staring at the cross dangling from his neck. She wanted to melt into a puddle or shoot up through the ceiling, she wanted to disappear from this place. Not only was she terrified, but she was embarrassed by the way she reacted when she found Harry. She had interrupted whatever he was up to and fell against him like he was supposed to be a hero. Of course, that was now taking over her mind and the whole bar situation was gone from her focus. Harry easily took center stage in her mind..

He kept his eyes locked on the guy, he had gotten closer already. The natural instinct to protect was present, which led to his hand sliding to the small of her back as the guy locked eyes with him. He recognized the girl he had been chasing, he was familiar with her backside. Harry didn’t dare blink as the guy stared him down.

“Is.. is he.. gone?” Ivy’s head fell back to look at Harry. She was unaware of just how close they were. Their bodies were touching, her hands were lifted between them and gently brushing his abdomen as she waited for him to answer her. “Harry..”

The quiet chirp of his name made him dart his eyes down for just a second. She had stopped crying, but her eyes were puffy and her makeup was smudged on her skin. He felt bad for the girl, she hadn’t asked for any of this to happen. She was sure he hated her guts and didn’t want to be around her, but she was grateful he was keeping her close right now. Maybe he was good at pretending to care.

“Just be quiet right now.”

His choice of words wasn’t what she wanted to hear, but she didn’t have a choice. She let her eyes fall back to his chest, maybe she could distract herself with the ink that was peeking out from beneath his shirt. She wondered what else his body hid. Was he covered from shoulders to thighs, was his back inked, what about his legs?

Ivy let out a shriek all of a sudden. “Ow!”

Harry groaned as he realized his fingers were tangled in her hair. The rings stuck on his fingers were catching pieces of her hair. He pulled his hand back, taking a few pieces with him. She felt each strand that was being plucked from her scalp.

“Why the fuck is your hair so long?” He was frustrated now.

“Ow! Stop, that hurts!” She scooped her hair over her shoulder, trying to get it away from his fingers.

“Not my fault.” He huffed out, shaking his head in disbelief at their situation.

She went quiet again, not even moving as he returned his hand to her back. He was gentle with his touches, not wanting to scare her or make her uncomfortable especially since she’s been harassed already tonight. The guy had moved to the wall, his arms crossed as he pretended to not notice her. He gave them a glance every couple of seconds, trying to catch Harry off guard but it wouldn’t work. He wasn’t going to let Ivy slip away and get harmed, no matter how much he wanted her to leave him alone.

“He’s still staring at you.” Harry felt a sting in his chest as the guy licked his lips, his eyes attached to her body. “Did you say you were here alone?”

She hesitated at first to answer. “No.. I said I was with friends.”

“Did he touch you?” Harry asked the question the very moment she pushed her curled hands into his body, she was leaning against him.

For some reason, he was feeling extremely conflicted by all of this. Was he reacting so intensely because he knew the girl? If it were a stranger, would he be this focused on handling the issue and solving her problems, soothing her worries? He didn’t know how to feel about it, all he knew was that he was pissed off someone thought they could get away with this. He didn’t have much time to ponder it, the anticipation of her answer was driving him crazy. If she said yes, he feared he would have to slam the guy’s head into the wall.

“Like.. did he grope me?” Her voice finally broke out.

Harry licked his lips and carefully nudged her chin with the side of his index finger, pushing her head back so he could see her. “Did he touch you in any way, Ivy?”

He didn’t care if he just shook her hand, if her answer was yes he was going to lose his composure. Ivy couldn’t talk back, her heart was too busy pounding in her chest. Her eyes widened as she stared at him, the sound of her name being spoken in his voice was foreign to her. She was absolutely sure that he had never said her name before, never mumbled it or even said it in front of her to someone else. Harry softened his hard stare and withdrew his touch from her chin.

“Answer me, please.” He gave her a stern lift of his brows, silently instructing that she do what he said.

She quickly nodded. “Yes.. he touched my waist.”

Harry clenched his jaw and shot his gaze to the guy who was in the same spot, as if he was waiting for her to be set free so he could take her for himself. He moved his hand to her waist and slightly squeezed her, and of course she noticed it. Her stomach filled with butterflies as he leaned even closer down to her level, even her heels didn’t make her tall enough for him.

“Stay right here. Do not move, do you understand me?” He spoke calmly, hoping that she would just listen to him.

“Yes.. I understand.” Ivy’s voice was as light as a feather.

He wasn’t too surprised that her bright, outgoing personality had fallen to such a fragile demeanor. He witnessed it at the restaurant when she grew so shy in front of him, how hesitant and timid she could get..

“Don’t move.” He repeated.

Harry dropped his arm from her body and took a step forward, but she quickly grabbed his wrist and jumped in front of him. He looked down at her with knitted brows.

“Wait! What if.. someone else..” Her voice trailed off as the endless possibilities began to fill her mind.

Harry didn’t let her stop him, though. He shewed her hand back and gave her some reassurance. “Nobody will touch you. Stay right here.”

Ivy rotated just so she could keep her eyes on Harry. The last thing she wanted was to get separated again. She bit down on her cheek as she watched Harry walk up to the guy. She saw his mouth moving, but had no clue what he was saying. Nobody cared to look at them, everyone was just dancing and minding their own business. Harry took a step closer, his height was even to the man who had chased her through the crowd.

She felt her hands shaking by her sides as Harry obviously became heated. He was yelling now, pointing his finger at the man like he was scolding a child. Ivy was curious to know what he was saying. Was he throwing threats out and telling him how shitty it was to be that way towards someone? Was he telling him he’d beat the hell out of him if he looked her way again? A thousand thoughts flew to her mind, but none were strong enough to distract her from Harry. She gasped, throwing her hand over her chest as she watched Harry shove the guy into the wall, but he withdrew hands clearly not wanting to fight.

What she didn’t know was that Harry was telling him that if he saw him look her way one more time, he’d beat the absolute hell out of him. He made sure to mention specific ways he could bury his fist into the guy’s body and face, how he could break his nose or knock a few teeth out. His ultimate goal was to terrify the guy just as much as Ivy was. Harry gave him one last push into the wall before walking away.

Her pulse increased rapidly as he quickly rejoined her, his hand reaching for her waist as a way to guide her. His skin was flushed from the yelling, his body tense and his chest tight. He was angry, more angry than Ivy had ever seen him. The look on his face beat out any irritated expression or rude glance he’d ever given her.

“C’mon.” He grumbled out, reaching down to grab her hand.

The butterflies in her stomach grew to the size of dragons as she felt his warm skin against hers. Now wasn’t the time to swoon over him, though. This was a more serious situation that she had a dire need to escape from. Harry didn’t give her any other choice, he started walking and yanked her behind him.

They navigated their way to the entrance, Harry leading her like a lost puppy through the crowd. He wasn’t being polite in any way, of course. He was ramming his shoulder into people as he walked past them and pushing past stubborn ones who wouldn’t move at all. Ivy stayed close behind him, her hand clutching his for dear life. He didn’t return her strong grip, he just allowed her to hold on to him so she wouldn’t get lost again. He had never had anyone hold his hand as tight as this girl was. It sort of amazed him, her strength was probably from the fear, but it impressed him. He’d never tell her that.

When they finally reached the entrance and made it outside, Ivy felt a weight lift off her shoulders. The breeze began to blow her hair around, the cool wind covered her skin in bumps. She felt like she had freedom for the first time. There were no more crowds, no suffocating people with sweaty skin and loud screams. There was no intense shaking of the ceiling and floor from the loud music, no more chaos..

Harry walked her away from the entrance. When he stopped and turned to face her, he felt an odd feeling in his chest. She still had a pout on her thick lips, tear stained cheeks, and wide eyes. He exhaled, licking over his lips as he stared at her for a moment longer. Finally, he released her hand and pulled his phone from his pocket.

Ivy felt a wave of nausea. It was more intense than what she experienced earlier in the night. Now that she was out in the open, able to fully comprehend everything that happened, she was feeling her body’s reaction to the anxiety. She pressed her hand over her stomach, groaning as she felt something come up her throat.

She turned away from Harry, not wanting him to witness her empty her stomach. It was coming, she could literally feel it.

“Hey, look we have a problem.” She heard his voice as he spoke to Niall on the phone, but this time it wasn’t enough to distract her..

Ivy swatted her hair over her shoulder just in time. She leaned over and started throwing up. She didn’t have time to be embarrassed. It came quickly, everything she had consumed throughout the day was out of her system. She let out a quiet grunt and wiped her hand over her mouth. The only good thing was that now she felt much better.

Harry had told Niall a brief summary of what happened, and said that it would be best if someone takes her back to the hotel. Niall said he would round everyone up and they would all leave. Ivy didn’t care what was being said on the phone, she was just staring off at nothing. Her stomach was starting to relax now, recovering from what it just went through.

“Are you alright?” Harry came up behind her, but he didn’t reach for her like he had easily done earlier. He didn’t want to overstep any boundaries she had.

“Yeah.” She mumbled while twisting around to face him. “I think so.”

“First you almost break your ankle.. then you try to get drugged at the bar. How do you make it on your own?” He questioned, unable to believe that she was capable of surviving.

“I’m sorry.” She uttered out, her voice as soft as a feather. She nervously folded her arms on her chest and looked down at her feet. She felt ashamed.

“Stop apologizing.”

Ivy furrowed her brows, but kept her eyes locked on the ground. “What do you want me to say then?”

“I don’t know.”

For a second, she was just going to ignore him and go mute until Emma made it to her, but something changed. She felt that usual sense of confidence and sass enter her body. The memory of what happened at the bar that night replayed in her mind. She defended herself, but soon after the worrying began. Ivy didn’t want to worry about him anymore. He had this power over her she wanted to destroy.

“Almost tripping is one thing, but I didn’t ask to get harassed.” Her voice was at a normal level now, her tone mimicking the rude one he usually gave her. “Don’t you dare say it’s my fault.”

Harry huffed. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Sounded like it.”

He pushed his hand through his hair, tugging back the long locks. “I didn’t say it was your fucking fault.”

“That’s your favorite word, isn’t it? Fuck this, fuck that, fuck everything!” She yelled back, her hands balled into fists by her side now.

He scoffed at her. “Are you trying to offend me? I couldn’t care less.”

“I’m trying to treat you like you treat me!”

“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Ivy could explode from the anger she was feeling. “You’re a terrible person!”

Harry let out an unamused laugh and threw his arms up. He walked off, shaking his head in disbelief, but he didn’t go far. He turned to face her again, a dumbfounded look on his face.

“If it weren’t for me, you’d be drugged in the back of someone’s fucking car right now. I think that’s me treating you fucking nicely.”

She could hardly believe she was actually arguing with him and holding her own. He used to be so intimidating and unapproachable, but not anymore. There was no more shyness or fear filling her veins. She was angry and she wanted to get it all out.

“Don’t act like you’re an angel. You treat me like you hate me! You don’t even know me.” She fired back, steam rolling out of her ears.

Harry looked towards the front entrance in time to see Niall and the others walking out, their eyes searching for them. He wanted to say more to her, but he didn’t have the time. He didn’t want anyone to overhear this conversation.

“If I hated you, I would’ve let you get hurt tonight.”

Ivy parted her lips to speak, but Emma’s voice calling out her name stopped her. Harry backed up when everyone came running up to her. He didn’t want to overplay his part. It was all quickly pushed aside.

“Ivy! Oh my god, are you okay?” Emma embraced her in a tight hug, squeezing her tight.

“I’m okay, yeah.” She breathed out, squeezing her eyes shut.

“I shouldn’t have let you go alone, I’m so sorry.”

“Emma, no.” Ivy pulled back and took hold of both of her hands. “Don’t say that.”

It was obvious that Emma wanted to cry, but she was trying to hold back the tears. The second Niall told her what happened, she felt her heart shatter. Something happening to her friend was never a good thing to think about.

Niall reached over and touched her elbow. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.. I.. threw up over there, but I’m okay.”

Emma moved to let Michelle hug her, and she quickly walked to where Harry stood. He gave her a smile when she thanked him for being there for Ivy. He didn’t say much back, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. He felt as though he didn’t do that much, really. He was just in the right place at the right time. He got her away from the guy before anything could happen. As much as he tried to convince himself it wasn’t a big deal, he was glad he was there when she needed it most.

—•—

During the night, Ivy experienced a few unsettling dreams that woke her up from her sleep. One of them was so intense that she had to get up and stand by the air conditioner, cooling her flushed face and trying to relax her body. She slept horribly. She would bet she didn’t even get three full hours. Despite it being a bad night, she didn’t wake up Michelle or call Emma to bother her. She thought about it, but she had already done so much that she believed put a damper in the trip, she didn’t want to ruin anything else.

The morning in the hotel was a lot better. She felt less stressed once she was able to get some socialization. Emma and Alyssa had came into the room to have some girl time before they all had to get ready. They didn’t have any big plans for Saturday, but there were some things everyone wanted to do. Zayn, Alyssa, and Michelle decided to go on a historic tour of a house they all found interesting while the others chose to stroll through the downtown area. Ivy had mentioned something about an art gallery she found while searching up things to do in the area. Emma was intrigued with it, so she forced Niall to go along with her. Cory and Harry tagged along, too.

As they walked down the sidewalk, Ivy let her eyes wonder in the shop windows. There was an antique store that she found interesting, perhaps she’d suggest they swing by it before they leave the area. There was a small cafe that pumped the smell of fresh baked sweets out onto the street. It was a quaint area, she found it very lovely.

When they got to the gallery, they sort of went their separate ways. Niall and Emma walked hand in hand as they observed the displayed work. Ivy decided to walk on her own. There were a variety of artists who were being showcased at the gallery. The information pamphlet they were each given when they first came in listed details about the artists. Ivy read over the paragraphs of each artist. She was very much in her element while being here. This was one of her favorite things to do. She turned the corner into the next room and quietly swallowed as she saw that Harry was the only one occupying the room.

She tried to keep her footsteps light so she wouldn’t be a disturbance. He appeared to be very focused by the painting he was standing in front of. His arms were behind his back, his hand holding onto his other wrist. He leaned forward to get a better look at the piece, but he maintained a respectful distance.

As she got closer, she could hear him mumbling to himself. She tried to ignore it as she looked at the adjacent wall’s pieces. The artist displayed in this room was more of a contemporary abstract artist. This wasn’t necessarily her favorite category of art, but she was appreciative of the person’s creativity and craft. She strolled by the collection, admiring the striking colors and shapes, but not focusing as much on a singular piece as someone was.

She hadn’t realized how close she was to Harry until she heard him more clearly. A smile toyed on her lips at his comment.

“That’s an interesting color choice. I wouldn’t do that.”

Ivy didn’t want to scare him, though she was sure he knew someone was in here even if he didn’t know it was specifically her. She took a breath and decided to be polite to him, instead of doing everything in her power to ignore his existence.

“Do you critique often?”

Harry turned his head towards her, not realizing she was speaking to him at first. He didn’t respond, just gave her a momentary stare. There was a desire inside of him that craved to burst out - he wanted to talk to her. It was difficult because he knew she didn’t like being around him. Their first impressions of each other didn’t go well, and nothing since seemed to work out either. So, he shifted his stare back to the painting.

Ivy wasn’t surprised at all by him, yet she didn’t want to give in to his game. Based on how intensely focused he was, she believed he wouldn’t behave in an aggressive way in the gallery. Now if they were elsewhere, he might would tell her to fuck off, that’s his favorite word after all..

“What’s the interesting choice you don’t like?” Her voice distributed the silence again, making him set his jaw. He wanted to be alone.

Harry studied the side of her face as intensely as he did the painting. He wondered what was on her mind. The blue of her eyes sparkled under the bright lights above them. Her lips were set in a very subtle smile as she read over the paragraph about the artist. He shifted his eyes back to the piece.

“The bright orange. It wouldn’t have been my pick.” He finally stated.

“Do you paint?”

Her quick reply made him softly sigh. He didn’t really want to conversate with her, but he purposely chose no other option.

“No, not at all. Just an observer.”

Ivy nodded slowly, opting to not say anything. She admired the painting for a few minutes, curious to know what his thoughts were. How did he interpret the piece? There were no purposeful shapes or patterns, it was completely random and abstract. Did he find anxiety in that like she did, or was he the kind of person who could understand and feel abstractness? She assumed he would walk away if she asked anything like that, so she didn’t. Instead, she reverted to the thought she’s had all day. As much as she wanted to forget last night, it was impossible.

“Thanks for last night.” She spoke a bit louder this time.

Harry smirked to himself, she didn’t catch it. “Did we do something I don’t remember?”

His cocky attitude was nothing new, and she just rolled her eyes at him. Maybe that was his way of being friendly, by sort of being a jackass with his comments. She didn’t know him well enough to decide if that was true. She was leaning more towards ‘he’s just a dick’.

“I’m serious, Harry. Thanks for helping me.” She said through a deep breath, her eyes falling from the painting. “I really appreciate it.”

He shrugged lightly. “Don’t mention it.”

“And I’m sorry for being mean to you about it. I was just overwhelmed.”

She didn’t expect him to turn towards her. She copied his movements, not sure what was next. Was he going to be nice to her for once? It was more likely that he’d snap at her. Her heart started to beat faster than normal.

“I don’t want to talk about it. It’s over now. Don’t thank me and don’t apologize. You like apologizing when you don’t need to.”

Although his words were harsh, she was sort of grateful that his tone was normal. He spoke to her like he knew she was human. All she gave him in return was an understanding nod. When he rotated himself to face the painting again, she made the decision to leave him alone. She left the room and moved onto the next one. It was obvious he didn’t want to talk to her about anything, so there was no need to keep trying.

[a/n: I have been waiting forever to post this part of the series. Things are moving along now, we’re building that drama and suspense (I hope). thanks for being patient with the slow burn, it’ll be worth it I promise! More to come soon! part 5 will be like 3 where it’s necessary for the plot line. 6 and on will be juicy!! Reblog, like, tell me how you feel in the comments! <3]

taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @victoriasigaard @ariiscringe @harlowsgirl @lomllover @haniaaa04 4 @sideboobrry11 @tenaciousperfectionunknown n @fangirl509east @fruity-harry @sassamanda77 7 @lizsogolden @prettygurl-2009 @sincerely-yours-marsbar r @boopookie @mypolicemanharryyy @angelbunny222 @mads3502 @harrysredroom @inlikea-coolway @matildasatellite @imaginexxharry

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Unexpected Calling – Part 2

Part 1 | Part 3 | Masterlist

Fandom: Marvel

Prompt: A world class contract killer finds an envelope at his dead drop. Inside are $23.42 in short change and a letter handwritten by a 9-year old girl.

Type: Series

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader's daughter (platonic obviously), Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Genre: fluff, action, slight angst, might get smutty but idk yet

Warnings: None for this chapter, it's really all fluff. Maybe a slight disclaimer about a lil kid interacting with a total stranger and some mom panic, but nothing bad happens!

Word count: 2.4k

Send me an ask to let me know if you wanna be added to/removed from the taglist!!

A/N: Trying to let myself just enjoy wirting and not overthink it all too much, so I hope you enjoy this chapter. It's a little bit of filler but I thought it was cute and it was fun to write. And yes, I know, it took forever to get posted. I had a lot going on, and I still may not be posting super frequently but to those of you who love this series so far, rest assured: I will still post, even if it's slow.

Any and all mistakes are my own as this chapter is unbeta'd, I did all my own editing/proofreading for this.

Text dividers made by @firefly-graphics <3

Transportation had really come a long way from what he'd been so used to when he was younger. There were planes that's the air of the skies with their quiet rumblings, helicopters that you could hear coming long before they appeared, and cars. Cars were so different these days, he'd gotten used to them but it just wasn't the same. Some part of him still couldn't wrap his mind around the concept of phones being able to connect to the car. And that was just one of many new upgrades.

But Bucky didn't take his trip by air, customs were a bitch to get through on a normal day let alone when he needed to bring weapons with him. He didn't take a train either, because–well. He'd had an uneasy feeling with them ever since 1944 when he fell down the mountainside. So, instead he went by cross-country bus, and kept to himself in his seat once he got on and found one near the back where it was mostly empty. Being perfectly on time, if not a little early, there were a fewhandfuls people that he watched enter in the time that he waited for the bus to start moving. His watchful eye kept them in sight here and there but for the most part, he simply pulled his dark red baseball cap down a little lower and looked out the window to help hide his face. He could only hope that when one passenger entered with not one, not two; but three small children, that they wouldn't be very loud.

Oh how very wrong he had been. Not even 20 minutes into the trip and two of the rugrats were already whining and fighting with each other. Bucky could only stare at them in distaste as he blinked at the sight, wondering how in the world such tiny things could make so much noise. Granted, he'd never really had to deal with children, not like this anyway. And they couldn't have been any older than 3 or 5, each of them. The oldest of the three seemed to be perfectly fine and well-occupied, thank heavens but that didn't make it any more desirable

Sucking a deep breath in, Bucky suppressed the urge to ask the clearly struggling mother to turn off the screeching, and pulled out a book from his day-pack, beginning to flip through it to find his spot. Maybe if he just pretended they weren't there, they would disappear from his mind.

Not likely, but the effort was still made as he focused on the pages of the small paperback copy of The Hobbit he'd brought with him. Glancing up when it once again wasn't working well, he was caught by surprise when suddenly the older child was standing right there by his seat row, and admittedly he tensed in reaction as a sort of mini-flinch. She hadn't said a word, he hadn't even heard her walking over. But there she was, standing with her stuffed bunny in her arms, simply staring at him while he did the same. Both were quiet for a long moment before Bucky glanced up the way towards where her mother sat with her brothers, clearing his throat. "Can I…help you?" He asked a bit awkwardly as he brought his furrowed-brow gaze back to the little girl. Once more, she didn't really say anything, instead just looking him over quietly. Then, she climbed herself up into the seat next to his since it was open, and Bucky was starting to wish he'd put one of his bags there. "Hey, look, kid- your mom- ….what are you doing?"

She shrugged as he stumbled his words out, and glanced down at her bunny fiddling with it a little as she got settled in the seat. "Too loud." Her answer came simply, and while it didn't answer his question completely, he definitely understood the feeling.

Sighing slightly, he glanced towards her troubled mother once more, and then back to bunny-girl. "...Alright, what's your name kid?"

"Mandy." She replied quietly, glancing up at him a moment later with big green eyes. "What's yours mister?"

"Bucky. My name's Bucky." The man paused for a moment then, almost as if debating whether he should send her back to her family yet or not, but she was calm and quiet, and wasn't harming anything. And it wasn't like he was going to let anything happen to a little kid, so he dismissed the idea for now and instead went back to his book.

It was a minute or so later that he felt the little girl–Mandy, he reminded himself silently–leaning over the arm rest between them slightly to see what he was reading. Brows knitting once again, Bucky glanced from the pages to the young girl, whose curly pigtails somewhat bounced in the way of his view of the words. His mouth parted a fraction, ready to let something slip off his tongue to tell her to sit back and let him read. But nothing came. He didn't know how to tell the girl to get out of his space without, well… being a dick. This was a *child* it would have been different had it been an adult. So instead he simply blinked at her in silence as he debated how to handle it.

Mandy seemed to sense he was looking at her though, because then she met his gaze and inched back into place in her seat, curling around her stuffed, yellow bunny, the apology clear in her demeanor. "I just wanted to see your story." She muttered out, albeit the words likely came out a tad muffled because her bunny's head was pressed against her mouth slightly.

Kids. There was something about them that just- got to him. Admittedly, maybe some part of him had a soft spot. One that he'd probably always had, an instinct he'd never been able to shake. And maybe there was something about that moment that reminded him of the slightly younger girl that he'd been on his way to help, that made him realize he was already traveling across the states to investigate the disappearance of some kid's mother. A small gesture really couldn't hurt him. He may not have said anything, but he did nod, and as he brought his crisp blue hues back to the book in his hands, he started reading the words out to her, quietly but still loud enough to be heard against her brothers' tantrums.

Whatever she'd been expecting, Mandy seemed delightfully surprised when he began reading to her, and her eyes lit up as she looked from him to the book, leaning over once again but this time while staying back more in her seat meaning her head rested against his arm lightly, so that he could still see but she couldn't help wanting to peek. There was something about how trusting she was, about how trusting kids often seemed to be, that just genuinely baffled him. Maybe it was because he'd been so jaded for so long that it was just a mind boggling concept to see such innocence. Or maybe it simply was a brilliant anomaly that children lacked the cynicism of their parents and the adults around them, that they saw things grown-ups didn't and thought of things that were unique to them.

Bucky didn't know when the crying and whining had stopped, but eventually the sun went down around them and it was dark in the bus, nothing but the glow-in-the-dark caution stickers and the light of the full moon to let him read the words on the pages. And just as he'd glanced over towards the little girl next to him, seeing that she was well on her way to passing out completely, he heard her mother patter over looking both exhausted and annoyed. "Mandy- for God's sake, you cannot-" only then did the woman seem to register that her daughter was half asleep, not really hearing her mother much and so all that Mandy gave in response was a tired hum as she nuzzled against Bucky's arm a little more.

Well, shit. He may not be experienced with children but he knew enough to know that if he moved she might wake up. And frankly he didn't even know if she'd let him move. Glancing up towards the mother, he offered an apologetic smile. "Didn't mean to scare you…she just kind of walked on over and climbed up. Seemed like you had your hands full so I hope it's okay I kept her busy for you?" He whispered to her, stopping her before she could rage at him–if that was what she'd been about to do, that is. She looked tired, and scared, understandably so. And most of all she looked ashamed that she hadn't even noticed her daughter leave.

"O-oh…thank you, I- I mean, I'm sorry if she caused you any trouble, I just- yeah…those boys…sorry they were so loud, they're in that phase…" she apologized sheepishly in hushed tones of her own, rubbing her palms against the fronts of her jeans as her gaze flicked between her daughter and the quiet stranger of a man. "I passed out and then I…I woke up and she was gone, I'm so sorry sir."

"Not a problem, honestly. She's pretty decent company, let me read in peace with her." Reading that nervousness on the woman’s features, he paused for a moment before shrugging his free shoulder up. "Don't sweat it, I shoulda sent her back…I was going to, believe me but uh. Well, at least now you get a break, right?" He tried to ease her nerves, but then glanced down towards Mandy. "I can carry her back to your seat if you'd like."

He was just so damned kind, she thought. A complete stranger and yet her daughter was clearly safe and well, asleep even and yes, now everything was quiet and she had some time to relax. It didn't stop her mom-dar from going off, but at the very least she'd be a fool to not appreciate his kindness. "No, no it's… it's okay, I don't want to wake her, she's a bit of a light sleeper…just uh, if she wakes up let me know. I'm Erin, by the way…in case that helps." This time it was her turn to offer a kind smile.

"Bucky. Nice to meet you…I'll keep it in mind, hopefully she lets you have a break though." He chuffed an amused breath out his nose.

Doing the same, she shook her head. "Yeah, if only. Thanks, again…I'll let you uh. Read in peace." She teased lightly, taking a hand back through her hair as she went back to her seat before the driver could reprimand her for standing up so long.

Smiling in amusement at that, he watched Erin go back to her sons, and in turn went back to his book after a moment. It was the small things, that made life easier. The small things were what really made things worth it. Sure, saving the world and saving people was big, and it was good. And it was worth it. But sometimes it was moments where he managed to do something more mundane, and helped someone else, that made all the other shit worth it. Because it meant he was still capable of being human.

———

By the time the sun was back up, Bucky rose with it, his eyes slowly opening to the light streaming through the window and he groaned quietly at the crick in his neck from how he'd slept. Running his flesh hand over his face groggily, as he glanced around he noticed that the warmth that had been leaned up against his arm the night day before was no longer there. He would have been concerned, thinking he'd now somehow lost some stranger's child, but he saw the pigtail-bearing girl peeking up over her seat at him a moment later, watching her smile appear once more as she gave him a little wave. Crisis averted. Not like there was anywhere she could really go on a bus, but still.

Despite still being a bit plagued by morning sleepiness, he smiled back and gave the girl a small wave of his own before watching her sink back into her seat properly. Probably at the urging of her mother. His sleepiness didn't last long, though, because soon those boys were back to making noise, but at least it wasn't as much of a headache as yesterday because it was merely them playing and babbling about random things. That was tolerable. And so he relaxed a bit more, rolling out his neck some before he picked up his book again and went on reading.

Somewhere along the way, the lone mother with her trio of children had reached their stop and were gathering their things to leave. It was Mandy who escaped her mother's sight once again to go see the kind man at the back of the bus who had read to her, bunny still in her arms but this time with a warm smile in place. "Hi Mr. Bucky! Mommy said I shouldn't bother you again… but I just wanted to say I liked your story and you're very nice." She didn't give him time to process all of that before she climbed up in the same seat as before, and kissed his cheek for a moment before hearing her mother call her name.

"You're welcome, Mandy. I think your mom needs you though, better get going." He encouraged even as he seemed surprised by her display of affectionate gratitude. The little girl wiggled back down from the seat then, but not without turning to wave at him, walking backwards to do so. "Bye Mr. Bucky!" She rushed the words out before running along to catch up to her mother. Watching her run along, he smiled at her little goodbye, and waved back at her as she went on her way. He wished that woman luck with her undoubtedly trouble-filled journey, honestly. Because he had his own coming up and somehow he felt like she was going to have it harder.

The rest of his ride went on rather uneventful, and when he arrived at his stop it was almost nighttime. But he was all the more closer to getting this job done, so saddling himself up with all his bags, he made his way into town and started heading for the address he'd gotten on the envelope.

Tags: @baw1066 @fluffydanger @vicmc624 @sjsmith56 @capswife @dispatchvampire @sofi1sstuff @sarbear94 @impeterporker @hhiggs @safiraish @kayden666 @saltedcoffeescotch @mcubuckyandsteve @thebuckybarnesvault @himikotoga

[slaytheday12]

Walker and you taking a photo together at a meet and greet but he can’t stop staring at you so when you post it everyone is like hes in love with you

Eyes on You

Being a Percy Jackson fan was practically your personality. You’d read the books so many times the covers were worn and the pages torn. So when the show’s cast was announced and Walker Scobell was revealed as Percy, you were a bit cautious. Then the trailer dropped, and your caution turned into a outright obsession. He was Percy Jackson, there was no doubt about it.

When Walker announced a meet-and-greet in your city, your friends practically shoved you into the ticket line. They knew how much the series meant to you, and they weren’t about to let you miss out on meeting Percy himself.

You spent the next few days obsessing over what to wear, what to say, and how to keep yourself from completely embarrassing yourself. Finally, the day arrived. The event was packed with fans of all ages, all buzzing with excitement. You waited in line, trying to calm your nerves as you moved closer to where Walker was sitting, signing posters and chatting with fans.

When it was your turn, you stepped up, clutching your phone tightly. Walker looked up from the poster he was signing, and for a moment, his expression shifted. His easy smile softened, and there was a spark of something you couldn’t quite place in his eyes.

“Hi!” you said, trying not to sound too starstruck.

“Hey!” Walker replied, his grin widening. “What’s your name?”

You told him, and he repeated it like he was testing how it felt on his tongue. “That’s a really nice name,” he said, his voice warm.

You managed to stammer out a thank-you and added, “I’ve been a fan of Percy Jackson since I was a kid. You’ve done such an amazing job bringing him to life.”

“Wow, thank you,” he said, looking genuinely touched. “That means a lot.”

After chatting for a bit, mostly you trying to keep your cool while he was effortlessly charming, it was time for the photo. You stood beside him, and he placed an arm around your shoulder. As the camera clicked, you noticed something unusual: Walker wasn’t looking at the camera.

He was looking at you.

When the photo was done, you thanked him again and walked away, your heart racing. You didn’t notice the way his gaze lingered as you left.

Later that night, you posted the photo on Instagram with a caption about how surreal it was to meet him. Within minutes, your notifications were blowing up. At first, you thought it was just your friends commenting. But then you started seeing things like:

“Um, why is he staring at you like that???” “HE’S IN LOVE WITH YOU OMG.” “Walker Scobell, blink twice if you’re okay.” “He’s not even subtle about it.”

Curious, you went back to the photo. Sure enough, Walker’s eyes weren’t on the camera. They were locked on you, his expression soft and almost... adoring.

You didn’t know what to think. It was just a moment, right? A nice interaction with an actor who probably wouldn’t remember you by tomorrow. But as the comments piled up, you couldn’t help but wonder: Could there be more to it?

And somewhere, across town, Walker Scobell was scrolling through Instagram, staring at the same photo with a sheepish grin.

A/N: pt2 maybe and fuck u ali

Tags: @izzystylinson, @sophand4n4, @kaiwrites092

[sammyluvr]

✶ no one else here — sam winchester

cw : gn!reader, sort of dreamy!reader, fluff, sam calls reader pretty, unedited, 908 words. requested ! for my 900 followers event [ closed ] .

prompt : in the patch of sunlight cast through a window + “it is pretty. i think you’re very pretty, too.”

one might say that you’re easily enchanted. you beeline to the corner of the library with tall, southern facing windows that let the early afternoon sunlight stream over the study tables and sprawling shelves that practically overflowed with books. this small town’s library is an absolute gem. it’s clearly a historic town, full of victorian era and gothic revival architecture among more common styles. the library’s pinnacles and pointed windows make it clearly gothic revival, which is a complete aesthetic treat. most public libraries that you and sam visit for researching purposes tend to be visually unimpressive, but this is a gem. 

it feels like it could be a movie set, and the sharp shadows in the shape of stretched, intricate window panes have you enraptured as you sit across from sam. you’re now bathed in sunlight, and sam thinks you’re the prettiest thing in this library, especially as you smile and stretch your hand out in the bright patch of light. it’s not a warm day, but the sun through the window is strong and warms you where it beams down onto your left side.

when you grab a book from sam’s tall stack, you realize he’s looking at you with a small smile on his pretty, frustratingly kissable lips. you smile back because you’re in a helplessly good mood thanks to all the sunlight and windows and dreamy architecture. you open the book and look down quick enough that you miss his blush.

a thin line of defined shadow stretches across the book's slightly yellowed pages as you skim the table of contents, looking for anything that might be of use to you. content, you read for a long while, sharing tidbits of information with sam and discovering that you can’t stop smiling at him. he’s just so very easy to smile at, with that gorgeous face of his, boyish dimples, and impossibly mesmerizing eyes. 

the fact that he doesn’t do much reading, and instead spends most of his time staring at you somehow flies right over your head. simple delight and a sense of ease is your best look, and it sends his sensibility spilling away from him.

“anything else?” you murmur, looking up at him from your current book, which has yielded nothing new thus far. the light has shifted and the shadows have begun to soften. you’re now illuminated by the sunlight coming through a different window than when you first arrived, after being swathed in gentle shadow for a while as the sun moved through the sky.

“nothing else,” he replies, sighing softly, but not feeling tired at all.

you close your book and stretch your arms up above your head with a reactionary yawn. then you lean forward, prop your elbow up on the table, and rest your chin on the palm of your hand. your eyes flick up to his face after scanning the upside down title of a book near his elbow.

“i wish all the libraries we visited looked like this,” you say, voice a bit wistful, “it’s so pretty here. i had no idea there were places like this in such small towns.” sam wants to tell you all about it. bits of history about small towns in the new england states and what he read on the plaque by the front door. he’s sure you’d love to hear it, but it all slips from his mind as he looks at you.

“it is pretty,” he agrees, “i think you’re very pretty, too.” and he says that with such sincerity that it can’t have been an accident. he must really mean it, and he must have the intention for you to know it. you look at him almost blankly. he’s complimented you before, but never with such spontaneity or intensity. sam thinks you’re pretty, in the way that he’s attracted to you. he’s just confessed to being attracted to you, and you have no idea how to react. all you know is that you’re far more delighted than you have been all day.

it takes you so long to respond that he begins to worry. then, softly tumbling out of your lips and accompanied by a pleased smile, comes the echo of his own words, “really? i think you’re very pretty, too.”

it’s his turn to feel shy. sam feels like he’s constantly blushing when he’s around you. frankly, he is. he nods lightly to your ‘really?’ because he wants you to know how much he means it. then, he wants to repeat that question to be sure that you mean it, but that would make this conversation sound a bit like an echo chamber, so he puts his hand over yours and grins because he can’t help it.

“do you think there’s anyone else in this library?” he asks as a murmur, his voice a bit sly and playful.

you grin back. “you mean besides the funny old lady at the front desk who told us that the corner with the windows is the most private place in here? and that she can’t hear patrons that far back, so she’s trusting us not to cause any trouble?” he lets out a soft laugh and blushes all over again the way he had when she told them that. he’s pretty sure you missed the wink she threw at him, too. you give a little shake of your head. “no. no i don’t think there’s anyone else here.”

[novascharms]

teach please me — tutor!reader x soccer player!rafe

reader's life is meticulously planned, from high school to becoming president of the country—she knows exactly where she's headed and every step to get there. but her airtight plan hits a snag when the principal ropes her into tutoring rafe cameron, the school’s star soccer player, who’s failing algebra and at risk of being benched next season. the team needs him on the field, and reader needs the principal’s glowing recommendation to secure her spot at her dream school. balancing her ambitious goals with rafe’s chaotic charm might just throw her perfectly crafted plan off track.

word count — 2.3 chapter index — prev. chap. — next chap. masterlist

eight

sunday, february 2nd

you've gotten the question 'how do you do it?' a couple of times in your life. you've always been the kind to never stop running, never stop moving, never stop working, just never stop. never even take a break, really. any 'free' time was an opportunity to do something useful or productive.

you're pretty sure you never really 'cracked the code'. the code was kind of built inside of you, weirdly embedded in your brain. you've always been disciplined, you've always known that small, deliberate actions over time were the only way to stay consistent. it does help that you've always had this purpose or reason to do it.

you knew what you wanted, who you wanted to be.

you knew that commiting, sticking to the plan was the only way to get there.

in order to stick to a plan, there had to be a plan.

it makes sense that you wrote out an entire two page document, detailed and in depth with graphs, sources and pictures explaining your complete approach to getting over rafe and putting some much needed space between you two.

you're picking your nails, a habit you'd abandoned years ago after a rather brutal pull that ended with you in tears while your dad disinfected your bleeding thumb.

now here you were again, staring at the dining room table you'd temporarily transformed into a desk for rafe's tutoring session. step one of your plan was distance, of course. you had to block him away emotionally and him wandering around in your room, letting his smell linger, leaving his clothes or his stuff sitting there for days, lying in your bed. it was too close. too personal.

your room was a sanctuary, it was essentially your place of work and your home all at the same time. it had to feel serene and cleansed from distractions like feelings for boys.

the table was set up the same way your desk was: his notebook, pencil and calculator neatly placed on the table. you even placed a bottle of water right there so he didn't need to go wandering into your kitchen for anything. there was no need for him to walk around your house.

you would sit diagonal to him, working on the valentine's day cards which you were super behind on because you spent multiple days being too upset to even look at a heart-shaped-anything.

your dad was also sitting in the living room working on his laptop which somehow made it feel even more impersonal. it was perfect.

the doorbell rang and you froze for a moment. "are you gonna open that..or should i?" your dad called from the living room and you jumped into action. "uh! no, it's rafe. i'm going, sorry." you're rushing to the door and take a deep breath. "just be casual, be normal." you whisper to yourself before opening the door.

don't even think about how good he looks or smells or just how good it feels to even be in his viscinity. don't. don't. don't. shut up. don't.

"hey." he says as you move to the side to let him in. "hi. was the..drive good? any traffic?" what kind of a stupid question was that? this town had less than 50 000 people. there was never that much traffic.

he seems to be confused by the question as well, "no, no..traffic. it's sunday.."

"that is.. good. really good." you stand there with your hands behind your back as he takes his shoes off and when he walks over to you, in front of the stairs, he gives you a look and raises his brows. "are we gonna go up?" he slowly asks and you press your lips together and shake your head. "so, actually. i had this really fun idea that we could just..stay down here." you gesture to the dining room down the hall.

he looks at where you're gesturing before he looks at you again. "you want to stay down here?" he questioned, eyes boring into yours. "mm, i would like to stay down here..it's..i—it doesn't really matter where we sit, right?"

he blinks at you, lips parted. "right," he says softly and you nod and repeat after him before turning and heading into the dining room. he followed and his eyes immediately went to the table set up before glancing at your dad. "hey, y/d/n." he says and your dad greets him back, this big smile on his face that kind of makes you want to shove him. this boy broke his little girl's heart and he was just smiling at him? okay, sure, he doesn't know that it even happened but he should just sense those things. is that too much to ask?

you don't waste any time. the minute rafe sits down, you're getting into the lesson. "alright, last lesson we covered how to solve systems of equations by graphing, substitution and elimination. do you feel like there's one or multiple methods that you struggled with the most when you were doing the exercises?"

he looks at you, seemingly lost for a moment. "before we start, can we just—"

you tense. "maybe during the break. so, any issues?" it seems like he sees the momentary panic in your face because his eyes soften before he nods and exhales, "i..i guess with the graphing, i struggled with the overlapping lines and the parallel ones and for substitution, isolating variables and variables in general is still a shaky one."

you nod and stand right next to him, reading his notes carefully. "you're not gonna sit?" he looks at you. you don't look at him. "i'm okay, so, for the overlapping lines and parallel, what you need to remember is overlapping lines represent infinitely many solutions and parallel lines is the concept of no solution or an inconsistent system. it's kind of confusing but once you can set those apart and remember what they mean, it gets easier." you flip his page then, "and for the variables, i can see that you forgot to solve for the second variable a couple of times. remember that after finding one variable, you have to plug it back in to find the other."

"wait, but i thought when i did this, i was solving for the second variable…?" rafe points at his page, eyebrows furrowed as his pencil drags under a line of equations. "because i brought this one over."

you lean closer, bending over his notebook to see what he’s pointing at. "no," you say, tilting your head toward him. "i explained this last time, but you were too busy trying to braid my hair instead of listening, remember?"

he cracks a lopsided smile, the kind that always threatens to make your knees weak. "just trying to grow my skillset," he murmurs, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

you roll your eyes but can’t help the smirk tugging at your lips. "anyway," you say, nudging his pencil aside gently, "what you’re actually doing here is moving the term over to isolate one variable first. see? once that’s done, then you substitute it into the second equation to find the other variable."

you wait for his usual reaction, the quiet "ohhh" that always follows whenever he finally pieces something together. but the silence stretches, and when nothing comes, you turn to him. "you get… it?" the words falter on your lips as your gaze meets his, and the rest of the room seems to fall away.

he’s already staring at you, his eyes steady and unrelenting. they’re warm, piercing, and hold a depth you can’t even begin to describe. you don’t even have time to process how close you are, how his breath brushes faintly against your cheek, or how the faint furrow of his brow softens as he takes you in.

you feel caught, anchored by something invisible yet impossibly strong. your heart hammers so loud in your chest you’re sure he can hear it. the air around you thickens, heavy with unspoken words and unacknowledged tension. it’s as if the world has narrowed to just the two of you, and nothing could pull you out of this moment.

remember the plan. remember the plan. you try to tell yourself but then his eyes flicker down for the briefest second, not enough to seem deliberate, but enough to send your pulse skyrocketing. when they meet yours again, it feels like he’s trying to tell you something without saying a word. it’s overwhelming, consuming, and utterly impossible to look away.

your breath catches, the intensity growing unbearable. you’re drowning in the weight of it—this connection, this magnetism that shouldn’t feel as monumental as it does. and just when you think you might give in, might let yourself fall into whatever this moment is, you tear yourself away.

your eyes drop to the notebook in front of you, your hands fumbling to straighten the page unnecessarily. "so, um… yeah, just try the new exercises i made and i'm here if you need help," you say, your voice a pitch higher than usual, and you can feel your face burning. you bee-line for the kitchen before you actually make the situation worse.

you paced in the kitchen for a couple of minutes before casually walking back into the dining room. you slid into your seat and could feel rafe's eyes on you but you refused to look up. you willed yourself to focus on the notes and hundreds of pink and red enveloppes in front of you.

the entire session went the same way. you worked on your envelopes, and rafe worked on his exercises. you answered his questions when needed, but you never moved from your spot.

near the end of the lesson, your dad's voice carried from the doorway, casual and warm. "rafe, are you eating dinner with us?" it had become a bit of a routine—your sessions almost always wrapped up around dinner time. but tonight, you’d planned for this.

"no, not today," you answered for him.

your dad hesitated, clearly surprised to hear your voice instead of rafe's. his confusion deepened when he glanced at you, taking in your stern expression. after a moment, he nodded sharply, muttering, "got it," before disappearing down the hall toward the kitchen.

"what was that?"

"what was what?"

rafe stood, pushing his chair back with a scrape. for a moment, you thought he might just leave, but instead, he stopped at the doorway, turning back to you. his eyes pinned you in place. "come here," he said firmly, his voice low but unyielding.

you blinked at the demand, your body rooted to the spot. "what—"

his jaw tightened. without repeating himself, he walked straight to you, his movements deliberate, his frustration radiating off him like heat. you thought he’d just grab your wrist and tug you to your feet, but instead, he did something much more dramatic.

"rafe, what are you—"

before you could finish, he bent down, his arms looping around your waist as he hauled you over his shoulder with ease.

"rafe!" you yelped, your voice higher than you’d like as you squirmed against him. "what the hell are you doing?"

he didn’t answer. didn’t even flinch. he just turned and started walking, his steps firm and purposeful as he carried you up the stairs like you weighed nothing. you slapped his back and demanded to be put down, but it was like talking to a brick wall.

he set you down, right on the edge of your bed. you jumped to your feet immediately, but he was already there, standing in front of you, so close you could feel his breath. the proximity was overwhelming, so you sat back down again, instinctively creating space.

"rafe—"

"no. i’ll do the talking now." his tone left no room for argument. he pulled your chair from your desk, dragging it a little too roughly across the floor before sitting down, facing you. you felt the weight of his gaze, the intensity of his stare, and for a split second, you felt small—like a kid about to get scolded by the principal.

"i don’t know what happened last week. i don’t know why you won’t talk to me. i can’t help but assume that you either aren’t ready to talk or just don’t want to talk to me, but i can figure out that i’ve done something to upset you. i can’t force you to open up, but if you don’t… i won’t know what the hell i’m doing. i’ll apologize, because, honestly, i just want this," he waved a hand toward you, your whole being, "to stop."

he leaned forward, his voice steady, firm. "you’re ignoring me at school, you barely answer my texts, and we won’t even talk about how you yelled at me on wednesday because clearly, you don’t want to talk about that either. i’ll never bring any of it up again, if that’s what you need from me. but now? you’re shutting me out completely. we can’t even sit in your room? i can’t stay for dinner, you won’t sit next to me—what the hell is this all supposed to mean?"

his gaze was unwavering. "i want to fix it. i want to make things right. but if you won’t let me, if you refuse to even try, you can’t act like i’m the enemy. you can’t be pissed at me, not tell me why, and then shut me out and act like i'm somehow misunderstanding the situation. that’s not how this works."

his voice was tight, but there was no shouting. just a clear, deliberate force.

"okay." you nod after a moment. "okay?" he repeats and you nod after him. "you're right. i'm not being fair, it's just..i d-don't really—i w-want to—"

he stops you the moment you start to struggle, "don't. don't force yourself to tell me anything if you don't want to. i just don't want to lose this. " he says and your mind immediately flashes to him with adriana before you can even delusionalise yourself into thinking he meant that in a romantic way.

"i know..and our friendship is important to me too. i just.." you start slowly and he's looking at you with these, big, kind, hopeful eyes. "i am a very type-a person—"

"you don't say."

you glare at him, "—and i work well with planning, order, organization. i don't like mess. i don't like things that don't go my way. now, please, do not take this the bad way because i promise, i don't want you gone, you aren't a burden," you beg quietly and he nods reluctantly, "but..this..situation we've found ourselves in has significantly.." you pause and search for the right word, "upset my balance and i think that the bonfire was a bit much. that is all. i j-just..got my period that day and i've been doing all this stuff that i usually don't do like not following my schedule by the letter so i needed to let it all sink in a bit and i process things in a very specific way which makes me lose sight of other people's feelings sometimes but i'll try to stop. i promise." you say and rafe raises his brows, "yeah?" he asks and you nod, faint smile on your lips when he grins because it's impossible to not smile with a grin as contagious as his.

safe to say you didn't stick to the plan.

chapter index — prev. chap. — next chap.  taglist — @rafeysworldim19 @my-name-is-baby @pogueprincesa  let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist & interact with post to remain tagged <3

[a-romantics-guide-to-life]

ᯓ ᯓ kryptonite kisses ᯓ ᯓ ⋆˙ ✮

clark can't seem to take his lips off of yours for even one second aka your lips are kryptonite, weakening him (but if that what it takes for you to keep you close to him, cest la vie)

tags: fluffyyyy, kisses, you work together, established relationship

FIRST CLARK FICLET!! def not the last bc i am so weak for this man already but i hope you enjoy!

You rub your forehead, the words on the page in your hands blurring together. How is it possible for one writer to make so many mistakes? The red pen tucked on your ear was running on its last legs of ink. You were convinced that the person who wrote this sham of an article deserved to be sent back to the kindergarten. And they also definitely needed glasses because who in their right mind would ever write a sentence as atrocious as “Superman’s strengths lied in his sooper abilities of strong because his face was a zero out of ten.”

“When I catch the person who wrote this, they’ll never ever write again. I won’t let them.” You mutter, taking your red pen and scribbling furiously, nearly ripping the paper out of anger.

A resounding laugh echoed in your office all of a sudden, you looked up to meet the familiar voice's face. Beautiful blue eyes stared back at you, glasses framing his strong nose and handsome face. You smile, setting your pen down as the man walks to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“What are you whispering furiously?” He smirked.

“Only this stupid article titled ‘Superman, only is he really that super?’” You sigh, lifting the paper for the tall man behind you. He lets out another chuckle, taking the papers as he starts to read the obscene article.

His deep voice starts to read the words under his breath, a few amused snorts escaping his thinned lips.

“Go back to elementary school? Such kind words darling.”

You laugh standing up and taking the papers from his hands, throwing them back to your desk. You walk up to him, your chest meeting his as you look up to gaze at the tall man.

“What would you have me say Clark? ‘You can’t write for shit, who spells super as sooper’?” He laughs, hands coming up to your arms, rubbing up and down. Your shoulders loosen under his powerful touch. 

“That’s certainly one way to communicate how whoever wrote that needs an immediate ride to the hospital because I think that they may have a severe concussion,” he hums, “Do ya think they’ll let me fly them to the hospital?”

You laugh, resting your head in the space between his shoulder and neck. You wrap your arms around his broad chest, “I don’t think that’s the best idea, Superman.” You whisper the last part.

Clark looks down at you, smiling at the very ‘secretive’ smile you give him. You made him feel as if he was the only one in the world, the way your bright eyes lit up every time you smiled. On a planet of 7 billion and a universe with who knows how many more species and people, you were the only one to make his chest swell with giddiness and elation.

He presses a kiss to your forehead, moving away from you so he could help you pack your things. You smile as you begin to plan your night in your head. Superhero movies, beer for Clark while you sipped on a nice red Clark bought you, and of course tipsy kisses which would probably lead to much more.

You mindlessly organize the articles you needed to edit on your desk, taking home a few that you could finish later. You smile, thankful it’s time to go home and spend the rest of your night with Clark.

“What are you smiling about over there? Surely the first page of the article I wrote about Superman isn’t that interesting.”

Your eyes snap to the page underneath your fingertips only to see a photo of the Man of Steel with the words “by Clark Kent” underneath the photo. 

You laugh, “sorry Clark, just excited to spend some time with you is all.” You smile, quickly packing up the rest of your things, your heels clacking on the tile floors of your office to catch up with your boyfriend. 

He smiles, taking your briefcase, which Clark noted was worn out and much cuter than the one he used, from your hands. He moves everything he’s holding to his left hand, cradling your hand in his. You smile, holding your coat in your other arm as you two walk to the elevator.

You press the button, letting your hand fall from Clark’s. He immediately pouts, much like a puppy or even Krypto, his shoulders sagging. You laugh at his antics, leaning to kiss him on the cheek. 

Clark’s heart immediately stop, the world seemingly halting as he looks at you, a gentle smile on your lips. He tilts his head to you, pressing his lips to meet yours in a soothing kiss. 

You lean in, your nose catching on his glasses. Your lips danced together, your hand going up to cradle his cheek. Your hand rubbed against his strong jaw as his lips continued to ravage yours. 

He released your lips for a second, his hand shooting up to throw his glasses into his pocket. He throws your bags and his own coat to the ground to wrap his strong arms around your waist, hoisting you up against him. Your hands immediately shoot up to his face, bringing him closer to you. 

Your breaths between kisses grew heavier and heavier, your lips tingling with passion and need as you greedily took Clark’s lips. His hands started to roam across the small of your back, your waist, your ass. His lips greedily latch onto yours, stealing ever sigh and groan escaping your messy pink lips. 

Suddenly the elevator dinged, your head shooting to the open metal door, praying that no one was inside. 

Clark laughs, noting your fear. He sets you down, kissing your nose and cheek before swiftly putting his glasses back on, patting his coat to rid it of any dirt, and grabbing your bags from the floor. You shyly do the same to your own coat, slipping your arms through the velvety sleeves as you walk to the elevator. 

You and Clark both reach to press the garage button at the same time. Your eyes lock on to each other, goofy smiles and chuckles drowning out the music playing of the crackly speakers. 

“Let me take you out on a date darling.” Clark takes your hand, kissing the ring you wore on your middle finger. 

You nod, your hand shaking away from his own. You cradle his face as the elevator continues it’s descent into the abyss of the lower floors.

You lean in once more, kissing his lips. You quickly move away from him though as the elevator doors open once more, sprinting away to your car before Clark could trap your lips once again in heaven. 

As you move hastily to your car, you hear Clark mumble “damn you and your kryptonite kisses.”

You laugh, opening the doors for Clark as he scrambled to get you inside presumably to catch your lips once again in a kiss.

[ragingbookdragon]

Note To Self, Can't Make Somebody Be Made For You

Tyler Owens x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 1.6K Warnings: Angst

Author's Note: A teeny tiny filler for the series! Read the previous part here!

**********************************************************************

She sat in the back of her father’s workshop, attention focused on the piece of wood she was whittling away at. Her gaze barely lifted as her father walked in and set his cup of coffee on the workshop table, pulling up another chair beside her as he sat down and began reading the morning paper. The morning sun cast rays through the glass panes along the wooden floor, dust shimmering in the warm air, and she sat in a comfortable silence with the man, listening to the sound of pages flicking.

“That supposed to be a duck?” he asked, eyes not moving from the paper he read, and she huffed through her nose.

“Well, I was going for a pigeon,” she answered humoredly, and he smiled, sipping his coffee; she looked at him. “Mom send you out here?”

His nose scrunched. “You’re in my workshop. What if I came out here to do work things?” She simply looked at him with an arched brow and he huffed. “Your mom’s worried, sweetheart. You’ve been awfully…quiet since you came back from Oklahoma.”

“I’m fine,” she said. “I’m just dealing with things.”

He looked at her. “Talk to me, pumpkin. What’s going on?” his hand found hers and he brushed his thumb over the back of hers. “You don’t leave during storm seasons unless something is really wrong.”

She looked away, gently pulling her hand back to continue whittling; she stayed silent for a moment, then murmured, “You remember Tyler?”

“Hillbilly from Arkansas you never shut up about?” he smiled when she glared at him. “Yes, I remember Tyler. He only comes to the house for every other summer.”

“I’m in love with him.” when he didn’t say anything, she glanced at him, seeing him staring back expectingly. “What?”

“I asked what’s wrong, not what’s obvious.”

“That’s what’s wrong!” she griped. “I’m in love with him and he’s in love with another woman.” She shoved his side. “You’re a man. Tell me why he didn’t notice sooner.”

“You really don’t want me to, pumpkin.”

“Hit me.”

“Men are idiots,” he deadpanned, and she made a noise in agreement; he took another sip of his coffee. “So, you left because he didn’t love you back.”

“No,” she growled. “I left because I couldn’t stand watching him fall in love with her.”

“Who’s her?”

“Kate,” she snapped. “All perfect and pretty and…and…” she deflated. “And smart, and funny, and kind…and all the things Tyler likes.”

“But not you,” he murmured, and she lowered her head.

“Dad, he called me and told me he missed me making his coffee.”

“Did he say it exactly like that?”

“What?”

“I mean did he literally say, ‘hey I missed how you made my coffee since I left’?”

She frowned. “I mean…not exactly. I…didn’t exactly give him a chance to explain how he felt.”

“Because you were mad?”

She looked down. “Hurt.” She sighed. “Dad, I did so much for Tyler and the group. I called and made motel reservations, I called weather agencies ahead of time. I made sure everyone had food and drinks, and gear ready, and so much more. And I did it all for him and he never noticed a single time that I did it because I loved him.”

He watched her for a moment before he murmured, “I loved a woman before I met your mother.” Her gaze lifted, but he looked far away. “Her name was Rosita. And…she was my everything. I loved that woman more than life itself.” He stared into his coffee cup. “And I did everything for her. Everything I could to make her feel loved, and happy, and comfortable.”

“But it wasn’t enough?” she asked softly.

He smiled sadly. “She never knew I loved her,” he said, and her eyes widened.

“You never…?”

“She was married to my best friend,” he answered. “And I had to watch as the woman I would’ve given everything for just a moment of her time, fall in love with the man I was supposed to support through anything.” He looked at her, and firmly, but lovingly said, “Pumpkin, you can’t make somebody be made for you. And you can’t make Tyler’s heart be yours just because you did everything for him.”

Tears swam in her vision, and she felt her chest tighten. “I just…I just wanted it to be him.”

“I know, pumpkin,” he murmured, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “But Tyler’s his own man just as you’re your own woman. And your hearts are your own to give to whoever you choose, not to who you’re indebted to. If Tyler loves another woman, you should be happy that he found someone he loves and who loves him too.” He looked her in her eyes. “Your other half is out there, even if it isn’t him, and you need to let him know that. It’s not his fault that he doesn’t feel the same. Just like it wasn’t Rosita’s fault she didn’t feel the same for me.”

She bit her lip to keep it from wobbling. “I don’t know if I can, dad,” she whispered.

“Why not, pumpkin?” he asked softly.

“I told him I didn’t want him to call or text me…or talk to me…”

He sighed wistfully. “Women, their emotions, and their broken hearts.” He laughed when she swatted at him. “Give him a call, pumpkin. He’ll answer.”

“What if he doesn’t?” she asked, and he shrugged.

“Men are idiots, I don’t know, send that pigeon-duck you’ve got there,” he said, nodding to the carving in her hand.

“If I send it, I’m throwing it at him.”

“Good deal, give him a real headache to deal with other than you. Now, get out of my workshop. I’ve got work to do,” he ushered her from the chair and up towards the door.

“What work?” she shot back. “You sit in here and do nothing the entire day.”

“Out,” he swatted with the newspaper, and she paused as she stopped by the door.

“Thanks, dad,” she said, and he smiled.

“Anytime, pumpkin.”

***

She kept thumping at the steering wheel of her truck, fingers twitching to call, but the worry in her chest kept her from it.

What if he didn’t answer?

What if he did and he was angry?

What if he did answer and he told her that he loved her?

She groaned and grabbed her phone, flicking through her contacts until she found his; with a sharp breath, she pressed “Call” and waited.

It rang.

And rang.

And rang, until,

Hey, you’ve reached Tyler Owens. I’m busy at the moment but if you leave me your name and number, I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks!

She felt her heart tighten, but then it beeped, and she exhaled.

“Hey…Tyler, it’s me. I know…I know I said I didn’t want you to call or text, and, well, I’m calling. I…look, I owe you…an apology.” She let out a breath as she saw the light turn green. “It wasn’t fair of me to put my feelings on you. And I’m sorry. My feelings are mine to deal with and I shouldn’t have left you and the team high and dry.” She stepped on the gas and began turning. “Look, I know you asked if we could still be friends…and I’d like that. I’d like to keep being friends. If you could give me a call when you get this message…I’d like to talk again.” She pulled out into the center of the intersection. “You mean a lot to me, Tyler. You…your friendship means a lot to me. And again, I just wanted to say—”

Metal tore against metal as 40 tons of steel t-boned the side of her Dodge, slamming her against the driver’s side door as the truck lurched and rolled across the asphalt, glass and shards of semi and truck scattered across the road. Her phone lay in the back seat somewhere, still recording as countless other drivers got out of their cars and began running over.

***

Tyler watched as Kate smiled at the cashier as she ordered, a warmth in his chest at the sight of her. They’d certainly grown closer since going into the storm chasing business together. Two meteorologists sticking their heads together worked better than one. He felt his phone vibrating in his pocket, and he pulled it out, a frown crossing his lips as he saw her name flashing across the screen. He hesitated, thumb hovering over the answer button, but something stopped him, and he waited, watching as it rang and went to voicemail. It went on for what seemed like forever until his screen went black and then he tapped it, looking down at the notification of her voicemail.

Something twisted uncomfortably in his gut as he unlocked his phone and went to his voice messages. His thumb hovered over the message, but he struggled with what he wanted to do. She wanted to be left alone. She didn't want him to call or text her, and here she was, calling and leaving him a message. Tyler stared at her name, feeling a mix of emotions, and he slid his thumb over it until the red bar covered it, and it disappeared.

"Tyler?" Kate called softly, holding the to-go boxes of their food. "You, okay?"

He looked up at her, feeling a calm settle over his chest and he nodded. "Yeah, I'm good. Here, lemme get that for you. Ladies shouldn't carry heavy things." He took the bags from her and looped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close as he led her back to his truck. “Now, you have got to tell me more stories about you as a kid, ‘cause the ones your mom told back in Oklahoma were hilarious.”

Kate huffed. “I am not telling you anymore stories from my childhood.”

“Why not?” he teased. “Afraid I’ll laugh.”

She smiled. “No…”

“Yes…” he smiled back at her. “Tell me, I wanna hear them.”

Kate sighed. “Oh fine…but only because you sound so sincere.”

[heartepub]

genre/tags. yearning mingyu, vague whisper of the heart au (one day i will write seiji!mingyu in full…ONE DAY)

The air-conditioner is at full blast. Around him, the students are clad in their jackets, poring over readings and homework. Mingyu sits somewhere in between the middle and the back, holding a book in his hands—it's been on that page since fifteen minutes ago. The wooden chair is a little too far from the table, but he's too scared to edge it forward and disturb the quiet. Besides, the book is only a prop, the location merely a vantage point.

If Mingyu pulls his chair back, there's a chance you would look this way, and that'll be the end of it. He'd been on the receiving end of it once, after dance practice: the sun was edging below the horizon, and he, curious, glanced at the person Seungkwan had greeted so joyfully. Eyes flicked to him, then Wonwoo. the gaze was only mildly curious, but Mingyu found himself staring for much longer. There was a patch of soft light, sunset orange, on your cream sweater. Mingyu watched you converse with Seungkwan, looking like the calm to the other's storm—and Mingyu caught a gentle smile curling your lips upward. All sunset and bright, bright eyes.

Dude, Wonwoo had said, nudging his arm, stop staring before they notice.

The tips of his ears burned. Mingyu tempered it with a shrug and a jab to his side. I just haven't seen them before, that's all.

except it's snowballed into…this.

You have a stack of books beside you, gaze alternating between the book in one hand and the notes you’re taking with your right. Mingyu sits, ignoring the teasing voice in his head jeering stop pretending to check books out and admit you’re checking out your crush—and watches you until the time before practice is too little to ignore. 

It's horrendous crush-behavior, the kind he'd tease Wonwoo for whenever he'd peak at his unrequited pining stage over the unfortunate soul he had his eyes on. The jabs came to bite him in the ass, or more accurately, in his messy scribbling of Kim Mingyu on a fourth of all the library cards here. Upon finding out your genre preferences, he also proceeded to scribble in his name on half of those.

You’re only a few tables away; the length between the sunset and a sweater. Mingyu wonders what it would feel like if it were his heart, paper-thin under your fingers. Wonders if you would handle it with the same tenderness you turn each page.

He wipes his sweaty palms on his pants. Twenty minutes now.

Mingyu stands—no creaking chair sounds, he thanks his luck—and slips his hand into his pocket, feeling the plastic of his black pen, the only thing he brought with him after leaving his bag at the entrance. He walks toward the shelves.

There are more books to scrawl his name into before leaving.

[writeriguess]

Starlit Promises // Sylus x fem!reader

author's note: this was just something my sister and I wrote while playing lnds together.

The low hum of the ship’s engine was the only sound in the dimly lit common room as Sylus stormed in, his crimson eyes blazing. His silver hair caught the faint glow of the overhead lights, messy from the way he’d been raking his fingers through it in frustration. The usual cool, detached aura he exuded was gone, replaced by an edge of agitation that had every crewmate present sitting up and paying attention.

He threw himself onto the nearest chair, sprawling out in his typical, effortlessly confident way, but the way he clenched his jaw betrayed him. Sylus wasn’t a man who let his emotions show—except now, they poured out of him in the form of a sharp, humorless laugh.

“She ran,” he said, his deep voice low and rough, like he was forcing the words out. “She just… ran.”

Rafayel, leaning lazily against the counter, arched a brow. “Ran? From you? That doesn’t sound right.”

Sylus shot him a look, his crimson eyes flashing with irritation. “Oh, it’s right. I got down on one knee like a damn fool, poured my heart out to her, and she bolted. Not a word. Not a glance back. Nothing.” He gestured vaguely with his hand, his usual composure cracking under the weight of his frustration.

Zayne smirked, perched on the armrest of a nearby chair. “Damn, Sylus. I didn’t think anyone could say no to you.”

“Neither did I,” Sylus muttered, leaning forward and bracing his elbows on his knees. He stared at the floor, his silver hair falling into his eyes as he added bitterly, “Guess I was wrong.”

“Maybe she didn’t say no,” Xavier suggested, his tone measured.

Sylus scoffed, leaning back in his chair and slinging one arm over the backrest. “What else could it mean? You don’t run away from someone you want to marry. She didn’t even let me finish.”

“She’s never been good at dealing with big emotions,” Caleb said quietly, his voice calm as always.

Sylus’s eyes narrowed. “So what are you saying? That I overwhelmed her? Scared her off?” He stood abruptly, his presence as commanding as ever despite the turmoil roiling inside him. “I thought I was giving her what she wanted. She’s the one who talked about building a future, about finding something real in this mess of a galaxy.” His voice dropped, quieter now. “I thought we were on the same page.”

“You don’t know what she’s feeling right now,” Rafayel said evenly. “Maybe she’s sorting through it. You’ve got to give her the chance to explain.”

Sylus shook his head, frustration etched into every line of his face. “Explain what? That I’m an idiot for thinking I could be enough for her? That she deserves someone better?”

“No,” Zayne cut in, his smirk softening into something almost reassuring. “That she loves you so much it scared the hell out of her. Running doesn’t mean she doesn’t care, Sylus. It might mean the opposite.”

For a moment, Sylus didn’t reply. He turned toward the window, his broad shoulders tense as he stared out into the black expanse of space. The faint starlight highlighted the sharp lines of his face, making him look every bit the rogue captain he was—strong, untouchable, and utterly alone.

“She wouldn’t just run like that,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. But the doubt lingered, hanging heavy in the air.

Meanwhile, you were holed up in your quarters, pacing back and forth like a caged animal. Your chest was tight, your mind a chaotic mess as you replayed the moment over and over in your head.

Sylus, on one knee. The stars framing him like some kind of dream. His crimson eyes, usually sharp and full of confidence, softening in a way you’d never seen before. And then… the words.

“Marry me.”

It had been too much. Too overwhelming. You hadn’t even realized your feet were moving until you were halfway down the corridor, your heart pounding so loudly you couldn’t hear anything else.

Now, the weight of your reaction sat heavy in your chest. You hadn’t meant to run. You hadn’t even thought. The truth was, you were so overwhelmed with happiness that it felt like your mind short-circuited. And instead of staying, instead of giving him the answer that had been burning on your lips, you panicked.

You stopped pacing, your hands clutching the edge of the desk as you stared down at the communicator lying there. The thought of facing him after what you’d done made your stomach twist, but you couldn’t let this misunderstanding fester. He needed to know the truth.

With trembling hands, you picked up the communicator and sent a single message: Meet me on the observation deck.

Sylus was still standing by the window when his communicator buzzed. He glanced at it, and the moment he saw your name, his heart lurched.

“What’s it say?” Zayne asked, leaning forward with interest.

Sylus ignored him, his jaw tightening as he read the message. Without a word, he turned on his heel and strode out of the room, leaving his crewmates exchanging knowing glances.

The observation deck was quiet, the stars beyond the glass casting the space in a pale, ethereal glow. You stood near the window, your hands fidgeting nervously as you waited for him.

When the door slid open, your breath hitched. Sylus stepped in, his presence commanding as always, but there was a guarded look in his crimson eyes, a tension in his usually fluid movements. He stopped a few steps away from you, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You wanted to talk?” he asked, his voice cool, though there was a flicker of vulnerability beneath it.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “I owe you an apology.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t say anything, waiting for you to continue.

“I didn’t run because I didn’t want to marry you,” you said, your voice shaking slightly. “I ran because I was overwhelmed. I wasn’t expecting it, and when you said those words, I felt so… so happy, I didn’t know what to do. My brain just… shut down.”

Sylus blinked, his guarded expression faltering. “Happy?”

“Yes,” you said, stepping closer to him. “Sylus, I love you. And I want to marry you. I’ve never wanted anything more in my life.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, his crimson eyes searching yours as if trying to determine whether or not to believe you. Then, his lips curved into a slow, almost cocky smirk.

“You’ve got a hell of a way of showing it,” he said, his voice low and teasing, though there was an unmistakable warmth in his tone now.

You let out a soft laugh, relief flooding through you. “I know. I’m sorry. I panicked.”

Sylus stepped closer, his hand reaching out to tilt your chin up so you were looking directly into his eyes. “Next time, don’t run. I’m not exactly the kind of guy who handles being left hanging well.”

You nodded, your heart pounding as his thumb brushed lightly against your jaw. “There won’t be a next time. I promise.”

“Good,” he murmured, leaning down until his forehead was resting against yours. His crimson eyes softened, and the smirk faded into something more genuine. “Because I wasn’t kidding when I said I want forever with you.”

“Forever,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion.

And when he kissed you, it felt like the stars themselves were aligning just for the two of you.

[natbeee]

Small info page about my Homicipher oc, Mr. Bachelor

I’ve headcanoned that Mr. Bachelor and the Bride were a newly married couple that fell into the other world bc the atoms aligned (I dunno). After getting killed not long after they arrived, probably Mr. Machete chopping their heads off ngl, they turned into residents bc of the otherworldly powers that be.

Due to the influence of the other world, they slowly forgot each other to the point they forgot why they were always together and parted ways only rarely seeing each other in passing. Hence why Mr. Bachelor is called a bachelor and not The Groom. He doesn’t remember being married or the love of his (previous) life so bachelor he is. Ik bachelor means a guy who as never been married but idk I thought it was cool lol

I wanted Mr. Bachelor to embody tragic love, a story that could’ve been happy had fate not doomed him to wandering dark and rancid halls.

Meeting him in the story would probably happen after getting separated from Mr. Crawling at some point. If you explain to him you are trying to get somewhere or find someone, he will accompany you if you allow. He would help you over gaps in the floor or down stairs, holding doors open for you and the like as it is just in his simplified ghost nature to be polite and kind.

If you take a break somewhere, he has the habit of fishing a box out of his pocket, opening it, and staring at the shiny ring nestled inside. He doesn’t take it out of the box but just seemingly stares at it, like he’s trying to remember why he has it. He knows it’s important and he can never loose it, but cant remember why. It eats at him to no end. If you ask about it, he will answer truthfully that he doesn’t know why he has it. Just that it’s something from long ago and he keeps it as if to try and claim a piece of his old self.

If you stick around him long enough and show him your loyalty to him, like general kindness and care, he will “propose” to you. He doesn’t really understand or remember proposing as a concept but he knows giving you the ring symbolizes that he will trust and care for you for as long as you will have him. He doubles his efforts to protect you, going so far as to sacrifice himself in case the danger is too much. He can regenerate pretty fast and after he does will go find you immediately.

General information about him

He’s 7’10, a bit shorter than the other guys but that’s still almost 8 feel like what

He’s skin is warmer than you would expect but still off putting

His clothes can get dirty but they seem to clean themselves when you’re not looking

His coat can change length from waist length down to his shins, making a great blanket

He can pull flowers out of nowhere though they are always the same type and they feel as though they are on the cusp of wilting but still retaining their color

He will use any object nearby to protect you, whether that is your crowbar, a road sign, or a chair. If nothing is nearby he will use his body as a shield

He is a pretty good fighter considering, but he is weaker than many of the other residents and will resort to de-escalating and running first then fighting last

He understands human emotions and body language much easier, though can still get confused if you don’t speak ghost language to him

Deep down he knows the ring and flowers he has are not for you but has given up trying to remember who they were for

And that’s all I can think of for now. If you have questions feel free to ask. My next post will probably be his interactions with the other ghosts, with or without mc there ((:

[merbear25]

Since u didn’t include Love and Mashiro in the last Vizards post came we get how they would react to a fem s/o wearing a really short skirt?

NSFW pls my vizard thirst is too real

I decided to add Shinji and Rose to this because I had ideas for them 💀 Hope you like it! 💜💜

You knew exactly what you were doing when you bought it. A skirt that was a glorified set of underwear was bound to turn their heads. When you were alluring all on your own, how could it not? You were just wrapping their favorite treat in a tempting package.

CW: NSFW, MDNI, fem!reader, established relationship, perversion, groping, cumshot, teasing, oral sex (female receiving), vaginal fingering, vaginal penetration, creampie

Wearing a revealing skirt around them (Love, Mashiro, Shinji, Rose)

Love: Re reading the manga he borrowed from Lisa, he kept a certain page open for a little too long. He stared at the panty shot drawn on the pages. The outfit the girl was wearing was something no typical business woman would be caught dead in, but the fantasy of seeing a stern, seemingly cold-hearted woman get flustered and blush a deep red was more appealing than it ought to have been. 

The more he studied this woman’s curves, the more he saw a resemblance between her figure and yours. That outfit would look better on you was a thought on rerun up until you came up to him. He glanced up at you for a moment before going back to his manga. Only a second had passed before his head snapped back up. There you were in all of your beauty wearing an outfit very similar to what he was just fantasizing you in.

He choked a little on his words, so you helped him out. “I saw you were spending a lot of time staring at that drawing, so I went out and bought something similar.” You perked up and showed it off for him. “What do you think? Do you like it?”

The eager nod and soft “yeah” made you giggle. He was so cute when he got flustered, and your playfulness was only making it more difficult for him.

“Why don’t you take a break from looking at that drawing.” You carefully took the manga from him and put it on the side of the couch. You motioned to sit on his lap, but he stopped you.

“Wait, I just want to touch you right now.” His hands found their way to your waist first, wanting to be spoiled with the choice of wandering up to your chest or your hips. He kneaded at the softest parts of your body, adoring the way you felt and needing to make you feel like the most desired woman on the planet.

When he pulled you closer, he kissed your chest and gripped your ass with an increasing lust. Running his fingers under your panty line, he wasted no time in feeling everything you were keeping hidden. With his fingers sinking into your wettening cunt, you moaned sweetly. Gripping his shoulders, you panted softly as he pumped them into you.

Suddenly, he pulled away. Sitting further back on the couch, he angled his head on top of the headrest. Gently ushering you over, you couldn’t stop the thrill budding inside you.

“Sit on my face.” His breathless request wasn’t something you were going to deny him of.

You rested one of your knees next to his head and eased yourself down. As he breathed in the scent of your arousal, he groaned as his tongue tasted it through the fabric. His hands kept caressing your hips, wandering to your thighs and chest but finding their way back to your backside without fail. 

He tugged at your cotton thong to wedge the soaked cloth between your now swollen pussy lips. Lathering your needy center with his hot tongue and tugging on the strained fabric was leaving you a whimpering mess. The combined friction of the thong and his nose were leaving you restless. Feeling you squirming on his face was becoming too much to bear, but he was desperate to drink up every last drop of bliss you were giving him.

As you rocked back and forth in search of release, he freed himself from his jeans. His moans vibrated against your sensitive skin, while he began fulfilling his own sexual needs. The fast motions of him stroking himself were making the bit of fat on your hips shake slightly. Your silent plea for him to make you cum gave him every reason to give you everything he had. 

Hearing you cry out for him sent him tumbling over the edge after you, leaving hot streams of cum all over himself. His muffled gasps and moans of ecstasy made you rut more roughly against his face to chase the high. 

Easing yourself off of him, the state of both of you sparked even more outfits inspired by his manga.

Mashiro: You waltzed past her without so much as a second thought regarding your attire, so you caught her attention effortlessly. You didn’t need to look back to know she was leaning over to get a better view.

The sway of your hips was done intentionally in hopes of drawing out more of a reaction. However, her eyes were too fixated on your scantily covered bottom to give you what you were specifically after.

“That’s a nice skirt!” Her voice was chipper as usual. “Is it new?” 

You nodded and showed it off a little more for her, doing a seductive twirl that made the fabric fly up even more. The sight of your lacy panties made her lean over so far that she nearly fell out of her chair.

Looking at you all wide-eyed with intense interest to explore, the desire stirring within her came out in an otherwise curious way. Lifting your skirt, she gave herself permission to satisfy her urges. “These are very pretty too.” She hummed as her fingers trailed up and down the wet patch forming between your thighs. “Hmmm…”

“What’s the matter?” The question shook with your uneven breaths.

“They’re in the way though…” Her statement trailed off as she took the liberty of sliding them down your hips. Tossing them to the side, she tugged you gently forward so that you were positioned right above her.

Her tongue darted out against your clit, sending a wave of euphoria over you. The slender fingers you so often imagined in place of your own on lonely nights slid up your hips and squeezed firmly. They held you in place, while the lapping of her tongue left your legs weak. Soft cheerful hums of satisfaction and blissful enjoyment vibrated gently against your sensitive skin. Every moan passing those soft lips of yours were eagerly pushed further, when her tongue trailed along the other, more delicate, pair.

The trembling and panting you were so eagerly giving her had her smiling throughout your orgasm. Her big brown eyes batted up at you with an unmatched adoration. After letting you ride her face through your climax, she gently sucked at your overstimulated clit before pulling away. A thin string of your arousal tethered you to her before she wiped it off with her finger and ran her tongue over it.

“You should wear skirts like this more often.” Her tone was far too pure given what she’d just been doing.

You nodded before dropping to your knees. Your tongues tangled, allowing you to taste your tangy sweet cum still glistening on her pretty face. Her hands clung and clawed at your hips as yours kneaded her chest. Plucking her nipples got her moaning softly against your lips. The heat on your cheeks matched the one between your legs, begging you to go further. 

Listening to your body's desperate pleas for satisfaction, you slipped your hand under her pants to find her own arousal pooling in them. You couldn’t break the lip lock even if you wanted to; each moan and praise she gave you was swallowed greedily as you plunged your fingers into her needy cunt. 

Her trembling hand found its way back between your thighs, feverishly playing with your clit again to lure out more of your sweet sobs. Your shared pants and moans of passion were reaching a fever pitch. As you rutted against each other’s hands, neither one of you stopped until the other was left completely and utterly satisfied.

“L-like I said,” she gasped. “You should wear this more often.” 

You chuckled before planting another more tender kiss on her reddened mouth.

Shinji: A long work day had yet to end, keeping the both of you separated for longer than he would’ve liked. Rubbing his eyes from exhaustion, the familiar sound of your footsteps traveled up the corridor. Cocking an eyebrow at the sight of you, a huff of amusement and a sly smite quickly followed suit. 

What a little tease you were flaunting your body right in front of him, while he was trying to be a diligent and honest captain. 

“Couldn't keep yer’self away I see.” The wink that chased after you could be felt even with your back turned.

“I thought I'd be able to work better with company is all.”

A chuckle came from him. “‘nd what kind a work were ya planning to do wearing somethin’ like that?” He flicked his pen at your attire.

You shrugged, playing coy. “What? This is new and I felt like wearing it.”

He knew you'd never cross his path in something that suggestive without some ulterior motive, but he'd let you have your little moment. He'd be having you begging for him no matter who started this game.

A sigh of relief escaped him as he leaned back in his chair. “That's good to hear. I'm up to my ears in paperwork.”

You could beat him at his own game. Of course, you could! However, as time seemed to drag on that itch you needed to be scratched was getting more unbearable. Lightly biting on the end of your pen wasn’t getting his attention, not even when swirling your tongue around it earned you glance.

“Shinji!” You groaned. “You aren’t even the slightest bit interested?” 

Smiling to himself, he threw you a bone. “Oh, ‘re ya caving already?”

You sat up straight, your flustered expression not even attempting to hide. “I-I’m not caving! I just… I just—” You slumped over the desk in a huff, feeling so sexually frustrated.

He leaned forward with immense self-satisfaction at how easily you got wound up for him. “Ya know all ya have to do is ask.” When you looked at him, that cocky smile you both loathed and adored was beaming back at you.

Grumbling quietly, you swallowed your pride. “Please, captain…” Your eyes hung low from feigned embarrassment, playing the role he wanted you to so damn well. “It’s been too long.” You gripped your already skimpy skirt to flash the wet spot pooling in your panties.

It had been a while since you two were able to be intimate the way you craved, making his usual control slip through his fingers that much faster. When he leaned back in his chair, you took that as an invitation. Sitting in front of him on the desk, you spread your legs at his nod to proceed. The sigh of his own pent-up lust left him without any control of his own.

Seeing you spread for him in that sad excuse for a skirt and your wet patch spreading more over your pussy lips were wearing him down. He nearly allowed himself to give in right there and then, but the look on your face was too darling not to indulge himself.

His fingers caressed you through the soaked cloth, earning himself those heavenly moans he missed so much. You clawed at the desk as his fingertips swirled around that sensitive bundle of nerves. Holding back your moans was in vain because of how much you needed this, needed him. The faint sound of wet fabric squelching was too good for him not to react to. His moans were soft and urged him to find friction for his own release.

Pushing the fabric to the side, he pumped his slender fingers in as he nipped at your inner thigh. The whimpers and begs coming out of you were just what he needed. Planting his face where you needed him most, his tongue worked to make up for lost time together. His other hand gripped his cock and stroked it in rhythm with your hip movements. He moaned into you as you searched for more of him, his hips acting on their own as he craved that sweet release he’d been deprived of.

His tongue piercing hit your clit at the peak of euphoria, causing you to throw yourself back on the wooden desk. He dragged his tongue over you, savoring the lingering jolts of pleasure shaking your body.

“Hope ya don’t think I’m done.” You were already splayed out so perfectly for him, he couldn’t resist taking you like that. He pushed into you without so much as a warning, causing you to yelp. His soft hushes soothed you as his pace started out slow and steady.

It’d been so long since he had you like this, you’d gotten so tight he didn’t know how much longer he could last. Those darling sounds coming from you and the way you looked under him weren’t helping either. He tightly gripped your waist as he pounded into you erratically, his breaths coming out in short gasps.

“Fuck!’ He grunted loudly, while he filled your sweet center to the brim with white hot cream. Coming down from your shared high, he lazily played with your skirt. “Yer gonna have to wear this more often, ya know that right?”

Rose: Fine tuning your favorite instrument with him in the room shouldn’t have been that much of a distraction, but when your soft thighs were on show, there was no hope focusing on anything other than you.

He absentmindedly strummed his guitar, letting the melody climb into a romantic ballad the longer he gazed upon you. Your delicate fingers paying extra care to your second voice with each tuning had him wondering if you knew how beautiful you truly were.

“That’s a lovely song. What inspired it?” Your voice complimented the key perfectly.

“Who else other than my other half?” His eyes fluttered to your concentrated expression. The flattered smile peeking through was all the incentive he needed to continue. “And what was the vision behind your little outfit today?”

“Who other than you?” You smirked at him, crossing your legs so the skirt rode up further. The seam of maroon silk peeked out from underneath. He couldn’t help but feel like a starving man with a piece of the most mouth-watering meat dangling in front of him, just out of reach.

Placing his guitar down, he went over to you. “I think you’ve tuned it enough for today.” Before you could protest against him taking your instrument away, he planted a firm kiss with enough fervor to take your breath away.

His hands slid under your skirt and roughly grabbed your ass. As your lip lock deepened, his fingers played at the sides of those devilishly tempting panties. Gripping them tightly, the force squeezed against your already slick lips. The soft whimper coming from you as a result was like music to his ears, a song that he yearned to further orchestrate.

Slowly, he shimmied them off of you, savoring the way they hugged against your curves. You looked heavenly like this: hot and bothered, ready for him to make you sing your siren’s song. Clenching your lingerie in his fist, he spread your thighs so that the short fabric of your skirt barely covered your soft skin. Your ass hanging out, your pussy dripping with need, your pants growing desperate: a delectable sight that he felt lucky to bear witness to.

Dipping into you, he hung onto each gasp and moan you were willing to give him. Your walls clenched around him from the blissful sensations coursing through your molten core. A shaky, satisfied smile peered down at you, while you gave him a taste of the symphony he’d been thinking about all morning. As he began thrusting, your moans grew louder and needier, fueling his darkening lust for you.

Your damp panties were being squeezed between his hand and the back of your thigh. The sweetened musk mixing with the slight sweat building between you two was clouding his thoughts even more with you and you alone. You were an image worthy of the status of goddess, meant to be worshiped like the gift you were and he was going to do just that.

His movements pushed deeper but kept a steady pace to hit that sweet spot just right. The way you practically sang for him had his head spinning. As your body trembled in signal of your approaching climax, he acted on impulse—bringing your panties to his face to fully engulf himself in every part of you. The lewd sight of him huffing your dirty underwear helped push you over that sought after edge. The sheer intensity of your body cumming along with your sweet scent flooding his senses lured out his own release. 

Such depravity that wasn’t above either of your standards, the mingling scent of sex made you want to pick up more skirts in this one’s likeness.

[lilahardell]

FIRST LOVE ISN'T ALWAYS THE BEST LOVE

Hyunjin x reader

Part-4 Project and Teasing

Next day

Y/n is sitting in class waiting for yeji,as she's doodling on her copy. She hasn't really made other friends except talking to yeonjun at home and yeji in school. That is without counting the banters

with Hyunjin.Someone comes through the door as she looks up, expecting Tess,a new friend she made in this class since yeji doesn't have this subject anyways,but hyunjin steps in.He comes and sits beside her giving a small eye roll and and "hi".Y/n is pretty surprised saying"morning,how come you're not sitting miles away from me?" Hyunjin rolls his eyes "don't think too much about it, it's better to see the board from here" Y/n looks at him with a teasing smile "sure".

The teacher steps in class,writing on the board.The class is calm as the teacher turns around "So everyone, you will be doing a project with your seat partner and It is on (********blah blah topic). You have 1 week,make sure to finish it. It is worth half your exam grade" she says,as everyone in the class groans in annoyance. Y/n looks at hyunjin "what are we gonna do now?,there's no way I'm doing this with you" Hyunjin replies "look there's not like we have options,let's just do the project. Meet up at the library ok? Y/n sighs nodding"fine"..

TIME SKIP

The library was quieter than usual, the muted sound of pages turning and pens scratching filling the air. Y/n glanced at the empty seat across from her, tapping her pencil against her notebook. She couldn’t believe her luck—or lack thereof. Out of all the people to pair up with for the group project, she had ended up with him.

Hyunjin strolled in, as if he had all the time in the world. His bag hung lazily off one shoulder, and his hair fell perfectly into place despite his casual stride. He spotted her and smirked.

“You’re early,” he remarked, dropping into the chair across from her.

“And you’re late,” she replied flatly, not even looking up from her notes.

Hyunjin chuckled, setting his notebook down. “Relax. We’ve got plenty of time to work on this.”

“Not if you keep slacking off,” Y/n muttered under her breath.

He leaned forward, his smirk growing. “Did you just call me a slacker?”

“If the shoe fits,” she said, finally meeting his gaze.

For a moment, there was silence. Then, to her surprise, Hyunjin laughed—a genuine, soft laugh that momentarily disarmed her.

“Fine,” he said, leaning back. “Let’s get to work, Miss Perfect.”

Despite her initial irritation, Y/n found herself settling into a rhythm with him. Hyunjin, as much as she hated to admit it, was actually focused when he wanted to be. They spent the next hour going over ideas, sketching diagrams, and debating the best approach for their project.

“See? I’m not a slacker,” Hyunjin said smugly as he finished typing up a section of their work.

“You’re still rude,” Y/n replied, though her tone lacked the bite it usually had.

“Rude?” Hyunjin leaned on the table, feigning shock. “You’re the one who insulted me first.”

“Because you deserved it,” Y/n shot back, unable to suppress a small smile.

From a few tables away, Yeji watched the exchange with a knowing grin. She had noticed the way her brother had been looking at Y/n lately—the subtle glances, the slight softening in his expression when she was around. When Hyunjin caught her staring, she smirked and gave him a playful eyebrow raise,as Tess calls her and she goes away but still looks at hyunjin giving a teasing smile

Hyunjin rolled his eyes and turned back to Y/n, trying to ignore his sister’s silent teasing.

As the session went on, Y/n found herself reluctantly acknowledging that Hyunjin wasn’t as terrible as she’d thought. He had moments of genuine thoughtfulness, like when he adjusted his tone while explaining something she didn’t understand. Still, she couldn’t help the pang in her chest every time her mind wandered to someone else—someone she missed deeply.

After they wrapped up the project for the day, Y/n excused herself and headed outside. She found a quiet bench in the courtyard and pulled out her phone. Her fingers hovered over Felix’s contact before she pressed the call button.

“Y/n!” Felix’s cheerful voice came through the speaker, instantly lifting her spirits.

“Felix,” she breathed, her voice softer now. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” he said, his voice warm and comforting. “How’s everything going over there?”

“It’s... okay,” Y/n replied, glancing up at the sky. “I’ve made some friends. Yeji’s great. My roommate Yeonjun is like a brother to me. But…” She trailed off, her voice catching slightly.

“But what?” Felix asked gently.

She smiled faintly, though he couldn’t see it. “It’s not the same without you. I miss our late-night talks, your laugh... everything.”

Felix was quiet for a moment before he said, “I miss you too, Y/n. But you’re doing amazing, I can tell. And hey, you’re making the most of this new experience, right?”

“Trying to,” she admitted. “It’s just... hard sometimes.”

They talked for a while longer, and when she hung up, her heart felt both lighter and heavier. She loved Felix, and the distance between them was a constant ache.

Back at the apartment, Yeonjun was sprawled on the couch, a bowl of popcorn balanced precariously on his chest.

“You’re back,” he said, sitting up when he saw her. “How was the project?”

“Surprisingly productive,” Y/n replied, kicking off her shoes.

Yeonjun raised an eyebrow. “You’re working with Hyunjin, right? Isn’t he the guy you can’t stand?'"

“He’s... complicated,” Y/n said, sitting down beside him. “But I guess he’s not completely unbearable.”

Yeonjun grinned. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said about him.”

“Don’t get used to it,” she said with a laugh, grabbing a handful of popcorn.

---

The next day, Y/n found herself spending more time with Hyunjin and Yeji. The three of them ended up hanging out after school, grabbing drinks at a nearby café.

“Don’t let Hyunjin fool you,” Yeji said, stirring her iced latte. “He acts all tough, but he’s actually a softie.”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes. “Don’t listen to her. She’s just trying to ruin my reputation.”

Y/n smirked, sipping her drink. “I don’t think you need any help with that.”

“You’re impossible,” Hyunjin muttered, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice.

Despite their bickering, Y/n couldn’t deny that Hyunjin was starting to feel... different. He was still infuriating, but there were moments when he let his guard down—when he smiled or laughed, and she caught a glimpse of the person underneath the bravado.

Still, every time her thoughts strayed too far, she reminded herself of Felix. No matter how much she warmed up to Hyunjin, her heart still belonged to someone else.

Later that evening, as she sat in the apartment with Yeonjun, she couldn’t help but reflect on how her life was changing. She had friends who felt like family, a growing connection with someone unexpected, and a love that spanned miles.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was hers.

So since I felt bad about the last chapter, I made sure this one is longer and I worked hard y'all😭 wtf why does it take so longgg.Wtvv thankyou so much for readinggg, Specially to my Tumblr readers. Y'all been so helpful🩷🩷.I will keep posting regularly,thanks for reading I love youu. Mwahhh🤍

[athenagc94]

Dear Daddy Long Legs

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

A concept I've been toying with. Will probably post the complete fic to AO3 once I've got a few more chapters written, but though I would share some of the chapters here first to garner interest. This fic is inspired by the (musical mostly, but also novel) of Daddy Long Legs.

Warnings: Some angst and self-reflection, nothing too heavy yet.

Prologue

Taking the subway had to be the most mundane thing a person could do, and after the night he just had, Jason needed mundane.

He traded his uniform and helmet for a well-worn hoodie and a Wonder Woman cap that hid the streak in his hair. He sat with his shoulders hunched to make himself smaller, less imposing, but no amount of hunching could hide the broad planes of his chest. The stench of blood and gunpowder clung to him despite ringing off before he left the Outlaw safehouse.

It would have been wiser to stay behind and regroup. Everything that could go wrong with their assignment did, but he didn’t want to sit and stew in all the ways they failed—in all the ways he failed. Bizzaro let him without much fuss. Artemis had more to say.

“You can’t run from your failures like a coward.”

Leave it to her to keep him humble.

Their latest job took them halfway across the globe, and after facing metahumans, myths come to life, and sorcerers, Jason missed the psychopaths of home. This wasn’t the first time he’d been away. A month was nothing compared to five years, but he yearned for the familiarity of Gotham.

Nostalgia was a bitch.

Being back brought a well of complicated emotions with it. Anger, regret, but there was something else, something that tightened his chest and left his stomach soupy. He tried to ignore it, knowing he wouldn’t like what he found if he sat with it too long.

So, subway.

Mundane.

Human—he just wanted to feel human.

His knee bounced as lights rushed past, casting harsh shadows across the rubber floor. It was quiet, save for the slow grind of steel on steel as the car raced down its track. It was empty save for him.

Well, him and you.

He might have missed you entirely if not for the bright yellow jacket thrown over your button up and slacks. Unless your name was Robin or Signal, yellow was a bold choice for Gotham—especially this late at night. You chewed on the plastic end of the drawstring as you pored over the book in your lap.

Jason, despite every instinct telling him not to, craned his neck to identify the book. It might have been an effective strategy if you weren’t halfway across the car and facing him. You seemed to sense the weight of his stare and looked up. The string fell from your mouth as it tightened with the guarded look in your eyes.

An embarrassed flush burned his ears as he looked away. It was easier to pretend he knew how to socialize when compared to people like Bizarro and Artemis, who were far from the paragons of conservation. Charm was learned, and his was a little rusty.

But now that he had your attention, he might as well ask. “What’re you reading?”

Your eyes narrowed a fraction as you gave him a once over. When you found whatever, you were trying to ascertain, you lifted the book to show him the cover. The edges were frayed and discolored; its spine well-worn, but the words ‘Wuthering Heights’ popped against the taupe cloth.

Jason sat a little straighter. “First time reading it?”

You rubbed the page between your thumb and forefinger as a thoughtful deliberation creasing your brow. “Second time. I read it in high school, but I didn’t fully appreciate it. Now that I’ve dipped my toes into a few more classics, I thought it was worth revisiting.”

“And what’s the verdict?”

You were two-thirds finished, which was more than enough time to form an opinion. Jason had thoughts, but he wanted to hear from you first.

You considered him again, almost conflicted. “I appreciate it more than I did back then. I understand why people consider it a cult classic. It’s complex, and I like complex. Heathcliff is deeply flawed, Catherine too, but that’s what makes them compelling characters.”

He smiled. “I’ve never read a more complex, mutually destructive love story like Wuthering Heights in years. I mean, like, full-body chills every time I read it. There’s something thrilling about it.”

“Right,” you exclaimed, a passion igniting in your eyes.

“Now, Darcy, that’s a real paragon of romance.”

The car slowed, coming to a stop at an empty platform. The doors opened with a soft hiss as the automated voice announced the stop. Your gaze flicked to the door, then back to him. He half-expected you to make a run for it, but you stayed planted in your seat. He blinked.

Or maybe you expected him to leave instead?

He settled back in his chair to make himself comfortable. The doors closed once more, and the subway continued down its track.

You relaxed a little. “Well, Mr. Darcy, if you know so much about the classics, what do you recommend I read next?”

He choked on his laugh.

Jason was no leading man despite how often he dreamed of being transported into a regency-era romance novel. Throw him in a silk waist coat with a messily knotted cravat and call him a rake because he’d make the fictional women swoon.

Reality, however, was much darker and hung over his head like a thick smog that threatened to suffocate him. He didn’t exist on this earth to sweep ladies off their feet or duel for their honor. That, and he wasn’t nearly as suave in action as he pretended to be.

“And for the record, I’ve already read Pride and Prejudice.”

He rubbed his hands together. “Oh, boy. How long do you have?”

A small smile curved your lips. “I'm not going anywhere.”

Discussing books came easily to him—probably because he had a lot of opinions and not a lot of people to share them with. Artemis didn't read, Bizarro preferred movies, and Roy—well, Jason was still reeling about their last book-related discussion where Roy tried to convince him that movie was always better than the book. For both their sakes, Jason made a conscious choice to not discuss books with him after that.

You listened as he rambled, going off about his favorite authors Austen and Dumas. He should have been embarrassed by how much he was talking, but the quiet intensity in your gaze spurred him to keep going.

His chest tightened with every stop, believing the next would be the point where you two parted ways for good. From the way your gaze kept darting to the door at each stop, he had an inkling that the feeling was mutual. He decided not to ask, lest it break whatever spell had fallen between you two.

All good things must come to an end. When the door slid open on the Park Row exit, Jason stood, albeit reluctantly. You did the same, slinging a plain canvas bag over your shoulder.

He curbed his surprise. “Park Row, eh?”

“The lifeblood of Gotham,” you said humorlessly.

Jason laughed. You did not. It died on a grunt as he tried to appear more sympathetic.

You exited the car with him, zipping the front of your hoodie as the unseasonably cool air pebbled his skin. He stuffed his hands in his jogger pockets and followed you up the stairs that led out onto the street. It was dark, darker than usual given the city had yet to replace the shattered streetlamp on the corner. It might have been his doing, errant bullets were a hazard of the job, but he was mildly irritated to find it was still broken.

Calm washed over him as he breathed. It was good to be home, even with all the complicated emotions that came with that sentiment.

“You live nearby?”

Your dubious look made him cringe. That sounded creepy coming from him, a random guy you barely knew. Sometimes it was difficult to separate Jason from Red Hood, not that he believed for a second that it would change your reaction. If you lived here, which he assumed you did because no Gothamite in their right mind would willingly follow him onto the street lovingly dubbed Crime Alley, the name Red Hood held weight. For all the good he did for the citizens, there was plenty of bad stack against him. He didn’t expect you to trust him with or without the helmet.

“Forget I asked,” he said.

You stared at him a second longer before walking away. “Stay safe, Mr. Darcy.”

Your tone carried an edge of finality, like you never expected to see him again. Despite the disappointment purling in his chest, he agreed that was probably for the best. A brief conversation with you was a warmer welcome than he anticipated, but he wasn’t about to push his luck by asking for more.

He lifted his hand to wave, though you had already disappeared around the corner. “You too.”