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ramblinganthropologist · 2 months ago

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Fictober 24 31

Summary: Ray's a great actress, but she's struggling with a scene in the drama she's in. So, who better to help her run lines than her best pal Kyouko? Actually... she might be the best and worst person for the job, all things considered. Keep your head, KK, or else you might do something stupid.

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RJ to KK: I’ll be there in five minutes.

RJ to KK: Thanks again for helping me run lines!

Kyouko smiled at her phone screen as she read over the messages. It was just two simple lines, but even reading them made her insides flutter. She knew she was being completely ridiculous, and logic would win over eventually… but she was free to fly off into the distance for a brief moment.

It was a crisp fall Saturday in late October, just before Halloween. She was waiting inside Sew Lolita, straightening displays of frilly dresses and making sure the accessories were nicely displayed. It was second nature to her – she moved as if on instinct, tidying and adjusting things as she went.

Perhaps it was natural – she had been around the shop her entire life. One day, it might even be hers if her parents decided to let her take the brand over.

“You seem happy, Kyou-chan. What’s got you in such a good mood?”

Her grandma’s voice called from the counter, bringing her back to reality. She shook her head, coming back down to earth and adjusted her glasses in response. At least her cheeks didn’t turn pink, but they definitely felt a little warm.

“Oh, uh, nothing, grandma. I’m just waiting for Ray to show up.”

Granny smiled at her, eyes sparkling. “Oh, is that all? Are you two just going to hang out today?”

Kyouko felt her face burn for sure that time as she glanced away. “No, uh, she needs help running lines for something she’s in. Not sure why, she’s usually got a handle on the acting thing.”

Having a handle on things was putting it mildly – Ray was a phenomenal actor. Somehow, the grumpy looking punk idol was able to morph into the characters she portrayed with seemingly effortless ease. Truly, she had a talent for the role and no doubt a sparkling future if she decided to stick with it.

In a weird way, it was comforting. Even if she did have talent, she still had to work on things to be at her best.

“Maybe it was something she couldn’t prepare on her own.” The entry bell rang, cutting off the conversation. “Ah, Ray-chan. Nice to see you. How’s the weather out there today? Does it look like I need to sweep the storefront?”

Ray’s heavy boots hit the wooden floor hard as she entered the shop, and the sound made Kyouko’s heart race. “Hi, Granny Momo. It’s pretty nice out there, though it’s a bit windy. If you want, I can sweep for you when we finish up.”

That made her grandmother chuckle softly. “Thank you, but I can still handle a broom just fine. You just focus on running lines with Kyou-chan. I’ll come up with snacks later to see how you two are doing.”

Then she was heading outside, broom in hand. When the door closed again, Kyouko blinked back to reality. Ray was standing at the counter, backpack slung over one shoulder. Just seeing her there made her heart skip a beat, but she did her best to reign it in.

After all, she was supposed to be helping.

“Thanks again for helping me, KK. This scene is driving me nuts, and Aya couldn’t really help me get it right last night.”

Kyouko nodded as they headed up the stairs that led to her family’s home above the shop. Today, it was empty due to the fact her parents were away on business. So it was just her and her friend as she unlocked the door to let them in.

She had tried not to think about it, but it hit her like a ton of bricks as they entered her room and shut the door behind them. There were no adults in the house, and her grandmother was busy with sweeping. It was just the two of them, completely alone, with no one to keep an eye on them.

Not… that they were going to do anything untoward. After all, they were just… friends. Just friends, nothing more. Nothing more…

“Oh, uh, not a problem. I’m happy to help.” She settled down on the cushion in front of her low table and watched as Ray landed hard on the floor across from her. “So, you didn’t say what kind of scene you were struggling with. What are we working on today?”

The other idol didn’t answer at first because she was busy digging into her backpack. Her eyebrows knit in concentration, and for a brief moment anxiety flashed through her green eyes. It was a look Kyouko had learned to read well – the meaning was like a flashing neon sign in the middle of the night.

“Did you forget the script?”

Ray shook her head as she kept digging. “No, I know I packed it. My bag is just a mess from school. I’d dump it out, but it’s not like I’m in my room right now. Just give me a second, I’ll find it.”

Kyouko shook her head, chuckling slightly. “Didn’t you say you were going to try and keep your work bag and school bag separate this year?”

Her friend had been insistent about that – she had promised she would be better about it after summer break was over. Apparently, that hadn’t lasted very long. Though her will was great in most things, Ray couldn’t keep organized to save her life. It was one part ADHD, one part her natural propensity for chaos.

In a strange way, it was kind of charming.

“I may have to put that off until next term.” Ray chuckled sheepishly, reaching back to rub the back of her neck. That little chuckle made her stomach bubble – it was hard to keep herself from smiling. “But I know I got it! I remember packing it before I left the house…”

A few more seconds of digging continued, and briefly Kyouko had to wonder if she might have really forgotten it after all. However, her fears were put to rest as the idol triumphantly pulled a thick book of paper from the depths of her bag.

Apparently, she had packed it after all.

“Ha, I knew I brought it!” She grinned broadly, eyes glittering. “I tried to get a second copy so we could each have one to read off of, but I wasn’t able to do it in time. Is it ok if we read off the same copy?”

Reading off the same copy? Kyouko’s heart skipped a beat as she glanced over at her friend. If they needed to do that, she couldn’t sit on the other side of the table. The thought of moving so close made sweat trickle down the back of her neck, though she did her best to keep it off her face.

She could do this… it was to help out her friend.

“Sure, that shouldn’t be a problem.” She settled in next to Ray, adjusting her glasses as she glanced down at the cover of the script. That close, she could smell the idol’s shampoo. Much to her surprise, it wasn’t a sharp or masculine scent – instead, she was pretty sure she smelled rather… flowery. It was light and sweet, and definitely not something she would’ve expected. Yet the more she smelled it, the more it was completely right for her.

Weird how the heart worked sometimes.

Still, her face heated up as she flipped open the script to the portion Ray had marked for them to work on. It was for a scene in the drama she was costarring in with another idol, currently being touted online as the slow burn of the year for the development between the two leads. She was playing a shy artist who harbored feelings for her energetic classmate, and the scene they were working on…

Her heart skipped a beat as she read over the script.

“Wait, they’re doing a confession scene this week?”

Ray nodded in response. “Yeah, it’s time to crank the slow burn up a few notches. It’s just going to be my part, though. Maika’s response is gonna come in the next episode.”

Kyouko could only imagine how that was going to drive the internet absolutely insane. However, just as insane was how fast her heart was going as she read over the lines Ray was supposed to say. Apparently, the shy art student finally decided to spit out how she felt to her love interest. It was the culmination of episodes of character development, all hinging on that moment.

“No wonder you’re struggling with it.”

That made her friend sigh and nod. “Yeah, I just can’t get it right. Every time I try it feels so… bleh. I really want to nail this, you know? Feels like I owe it to the fans to get it right. Plus, I really want to be true to Yuki and get her feelings across like she would do if she was actually real.”

Then she sighed. “Problem is, I have no idea how she’s feeling. So I’ve been watching a lot of dramas and reading books but it’s just not landing right. I figure if I run lines with someone else, we can figure something out.”

She made it sound like they were working on a school project they would have to present to the class – if they put their heads together, they could get a passing grade and avoid summer classes. It was charming in a weird way, and she would’ve chuckled if it wasn’t so bizarre.

Leave it to Ray to contextualize things like that.

“Well, how about you show me what you’re working on so far, and then I’ll see what you can do.” Kyouko leaned in to read. Thanks to that, she drew closer to Ray, brushing against her shoulder. She felt her face heat up but shook her head instead. “Alright, are you ready?”

Ray nodded, so she picked a line to start on. “Hey, Yu! I got your message, what’s up? Did you want to go over the guidelines for the next assignment?”

It was weird – the other character was much more energetic than she was, so the casual dialogue felt odd on her lips. Still, she stuck the landing as best as she could in order to give her friend the best launchpad she could.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as Ray shifted position. She seemed to fall into herself, nearly shrinking in the process. Then she bit her lip, glancing away. Unlike Kyouko, she wasn’t reading the script – this part she had memorized.

“Na-chan… I… yes. I wanted to talk to you about something. Thank you for coming.”

Kyouko scanned the lines before she spoke. “What’s up, Yu? You’re looking awfully nervous. Are you worried about the assignment or something? I don’t get why, acrylics are your favorite!”

She could practically picture the scene in her head – a high school art classroom after classes had let out for the day, the late day sun streaming through the window and highlighting the canvases of art club members. It was empty, save for just the two characters.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t being honest when I asked you to come here.” Ray’s voice grew soft as she hesitated. “Na-chan… I can’t think straight around you anymore. Every time I get close, my heart start to pound.”

Her hand went to the front of her t-shirt, and she gripped the faded black cloth tightly. “It’s scaring me, Na-chan. I can’t sleep… all I can think about is you anymore.”

It was hard to hear the idol’s words her heart was pounding so hard, but Kyouko managed a shaky nod as she read the next line. “What do you mean, Yuki?”

Then her mouth went dry as Ray turned to face her, eyes burning. Her mind went blank as she waited for the next line, hanging on it and hoping it would never come at the same time. Every second was an agony that felt like a lifetime.

“Natsuki… it’s you. It’s always been you.” Ray shut her eyes tightly. “I… I think I love you, Natsuki!”

And then she sighed, slamming her forehead on the table and breaking the illusion altogether. “Fuck, that was so lame!”

Kyouko practically hopped out of her skin as she came crashing down to earth. It was a miracle that sweat wasn’t dripping down her brow in that moment given how hot she felt. Luckily, it was cool in the room, but there was little chance to hide her pink cheeks.

She needed to get her head in the game… it was just acting. It wasn’t like Ray was actually confessing to her.

That was only emphasized as Ray let out a groan from her spot on the table. “Every time I run that line, it just feels so dumb.”

One green eye met her as she turned over. “I don’t get how Yuki feels in this scene at all. I mean, I understand that she really likes Natsuki and wants to tell her how she feels, but I just can’t get in her head like I can with all the other scenes.”

“It sounded good to me, though. Maybe it’s ok if you can’t feel it for yourself as long as you play it like you just did. People say you have good chemistry with Sato-san…”

Even as she said it, Kyouko knew it wasn’t going to work. Ray was going to drive herself insane trying to get it right. The best thing she could do was help her nail down what she was trying to get out.

It might kill her, but what were friends for?

“I don’t get the whole chemistry thing either. We’re just acting.” Ray sighed again, sitting up and rubbing her sore forehead. “I don’t know… have you ever had a crush on someone and wanted to confess to them, KK?”

She was so sincere about the question that Kyouko would’ve laughed if it hadn’t felt so ridiculous. Truly, the gods were enjoying her suffering in that moment – they probably had snacks and were watching with bated breath. Had she done something terrible in a previous life to deserve this? That was the only way she could’ve explained it.

This was where having a pointless crush on her good friend hurt the most. It was one of the many moments that laid bare her feelings were one sided and rather pointless. After all, Ray didn’t even consider that it could be true.

They were just friends to her.

So it was hard to keep a smile on her face as she nodded. “Yeah, actually, I did.”

That made the idol straighten up. “Really? How’d it work out? Did you confess to them?”

All she could do was shake her head and fight to keep the smile straining on her face. “There was nothing to work out because I didn’t tell them about it. It was clear they didn’t share my feelings, and I didn’t want to make things awkward between us.”

She didn’t have that many friends… it would hurt too much to lose one of her best ones by acting on her feelings.

“Man, that sucks. I’m sorry to hear that, KK.” Ray sighed. “But, like, what does that feel like? Yuki makes it sound like it hurts or something.”

Hurt was putting it mildly – it felt like her heart was getting torn apart whenever she thought about losing Ray to a failed confession. As much as it hurt to hide her feelings, it was a pain she was used to by then. And in the end, maybe it was better to go with the devil she knew instead of the one she couldn’t even dream about.

Yet… her heart still ached as she looked over at her friend.

“It does hurt… and maybe it’s a hurt that Yuki can’t stand. She’s probably scared, but I bet she’s even more afraid of letting Natsuki go without saying anything.”

It was weird how a fictional character was far stronger than she was, even though they were in the same position. In that moment, she envied words on a page played by one of her best friends. There had to be some grand irony there – the gods had put her in that position to watch her suffer.

“Well, can I see you do the confession scene?” Ray nudged the script over to her. “Maybe if I see you do it, I can get a sense of how to play it.”

Kyouko felt a pain in her heart as she accepted the script. Running away sounded like a great idea then. The problem was that if she took off, Ray would chase her. Then there would be awkward questions she didn’t want to answer, and then it would just make things worse.

The only way around it was through it.

So she nodded and adjusted her glasses. “Alright. I’ll give it a shot. I’m going to start from here.”

Then she cleared her throat to dislodge the lump.

I’m sorry, I wasn’t being honest when I asked you to come here. Na-chan… I can’t think straight around you anymore. Every time I get close, my heart start to pound.”

Just like her heart was pounding now. She could feel it struggling against her ribs, only held there by her skin and clothes. It was ringing in her ears, bust she could still hear her words as clearly as a bell.

“It’s scaring me, Na-chan. I can’t sleep… all I can think about is you anymore.”

The sleepless nights were the worst. How many nights had she rolled around in her bed, seeking rest but only finding racing thoughts instead? Even worse were the dreams she had about the other girl… but she loved and hated them at the same time. It was even worth it when she went to class tired in the morning, with nothing to show for it but deep circles and a yawn.

“What do you mean, Yuki?”

“Natsuki… it’s you. It’s always been you.” Kyouko’s mind went blank as she stared over at her friend, still staring down at the script. Her mouth kept moving as her heart pounded in her ears, as if she was acting on instinct. “I… I think I love you, Ray.”

And then her body breeched the gap without her wanting it to do so. She was suddenly way too close to the idol, but all she could focus on was her face – her dark skin and bright eyes, the scar that stretched across her face, and her lips. They were so close… and getting closer. A few more centimeters, and they’d be close enough to touch.

What would her lips feel like?

“W-whoa, wait, time!”

Ray jumped back, eyes wide. “KK, what the hell are you doing? There’s no kiss scene in this episode!”

Kyouko’s mind raced as she crashed back down to reality. Her face burned red hot as she played her words over. Right then, she wanted to crawl into a hole and die – or maybe just disappear off the face of the earth altogether.

How the hell was she going to get out of this one?

Lucky for her, the door swung open. Granny was on the other side, holding a tray of snacks and wearing a smile. That smile fell, however, as she surveyed the scene in front of her. Kyouko had no idea what she was seeing in that moment – probably utter chaos.

“Is everything alright, girls?”

Ray nodded shakily as she got up to accept the snacks. “Yeah, we just got a little too into the scene is all… thanks, granny Momo.”

“You’re welcome, dear. I’ll let you get back to it.”

And then she was gone, leaving them behind as she closed the door and cut off Kyouko’s escape. Now she was once again alone in the room with Ray, with nothing to show for it but a plate of snacks and the worst mistake of her life.

She had really stepped in it this time.

For a few moments, they ate in silence. Or rather, Ray ate. Her stomach was churning like a storm-tossed sea, and even the thought of food made her want to throw up. Instead, she clutched at a cup of tea like it was her lifeline, praying she could somehow erase the last handful of minutes from existence.

Had she really just tried to kiss her?

“So uh… I guess you were just reading ahead or something. No doubt that’s probably going to happen in the next episode, I doubt they’d let the fans get their hopes up.”

Ray’s tone was light. Kyouko dared to glance over. Much to her horror, the idol wasn’t looking at her. She couldn’t meet her eye and was instead staring at the cup of tea in her hands. For someone so big, she looked small.

It was an out, though.

“I guess I was reading into it too much. My apologies.” She sipped at her tea, feeling it slosh around in her stomach. “Are you… if they go that way, is that going to bother you?”

She got a shoulder shrug in response. “Not like I’ve ever kissed somebody before. Would that count as my first kiss, or would it be a work thing instead? I like my costar and all, but like… not like that, you know?”

Yeah, she knew. Kyouko could only keep drinking her tea in order to keep her tongue in line. A thousand thoughts were running through her mind in that moment, all of them screaming to get out first. But none of them could – she fought them off into the silence.

Ray suddenly stood, grabbing for her backpack. “Thanks for the help, KK. I think I know what I’m working with now. I’ll, uh, I’ll text you when I get home.”

Then she was gone without another word. Kyouko didn’t get up to see her to the door – instead, she listened as the girl’s footsteps thundered down the stairs and headed out the door. Briefly, she saw her riding down the street on her bike, but then she vanished from view as she turned the corner.

As soon as she was out of sight, her head hit the table.

“Why did I do that?!”

She groaned, shutting her eyes tightly. There was no forgetting how Ray had looked in the moment, or how close they had been to… she couldn’t even put words to it. Worst of all, she had said the words she had been trying to hide for years.

In the worst way, she had ruined everything. And now she had gone and made things awkward. Who knew if they would ever be able to speak to each other again without that hanging over their heads?

So much for helping… Kyouko was sure now she had just made everything worse.

#Ray Jones Sunburst Idol Unit #Sunburst Idol Unit #Kyouko Sunburst Idol Unit #ramblinganthropologist's writing #fictober 2024

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phantomdialogue · 3 months ago

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˗ˏˋ. ݁₊ ✶ ˖ 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝟏𝟑 𝐛𝐲 𝐜𝐡𝐥𝐨𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐡 - 𝟓/𝟓 ☆ . ݁ ˖ˎˊ˗

boys of tommen book two

premise: shannon lynch has never felt as loved as she does with johnny kavanagh. he says that he wants her "for keeps" but everything seems to be going too well for that to be a reality. she knows that the other shoe will drop eventually, and while johnny recovers from his poor choices with his health, she just keeps waiting.

couple: johnny kavanagh and shannon lynch

tropes: sports romance, high school age romance, friends to lovers, found family, slow burn, grumpy/sunshine ish

CHECK TRIGGER WARNINGS BEFORE READING!! - includes themes such as physical and verbal abuse (familial and not), bullying, sexual harassment, and more.

available on kindle unlimited

review below!

review:

i cried profusely through the last 5-10 chapters. i am so unbelievably attached to these characters and i could read about 500 books of them and never have it get old. i loved this book. this was better than book one to me in a few ways but i think most of all, it was the fact that we were already settled into the "world" and knew the people involved. the boys of tommen series involves a lot of characters that i think the reason i gave binding 13 4.5 stars instead of 5 was because there was a lot of the introductions that took a bit (even if i didn't fully mind it). this book, we are able to just jump right in and go back to these characters that we already know and love and that felt so good as a reader to do.

johnny's journey through this book made me so happy. i was nervous for what his choice would be at the end of the book but i think that chloe walsh does a great job of making sure that his thought process feels natural for a teenage boy in his shoes. he's not an adult thinking through all the things thrown at him and i feel like we got to see him be comfortable enough tapping into that still younger boy part of himself in this book which i adore.

oh, shannon. i wanted to give shannon the biggest hug through pretty much the whole book. she really deserves the world and when we got to see her start to come out of her shell towards the end and find her footing amongst her friends and her life, i was weeping because i just felt so proud of her (in the way you can be proud of a fictional character i guess haha). i feel like in the first book, we got to see what her weaknesses were, and in this book, we got to see her discover her strengths, and that made me so unbelievably happy.

this book has my heart. this series already has my heart. i need a little fluffy breather book before i keep going because i know joey's books, which are next, are going to hurt way more and i'm so excited. johnny kavanagh is one of the best book boyfriends of all time and i understand the hype now 100%.

q & a:

are they endgame? - yes. i don't know how to explain it but i just know that they are still together in the present day while they are nearly 40 years old and they have cute kids and the sweetest family with everyone involved as aunts and uncles. it's just something i know for a fact and i think if you read the books, you'll understand. they are just such a strong couple that grows so much individually as well as together that i have total faith they'd make it work long term.

did i cringe? - as i said for binding 13, the irish slang and teenage antics is an adjustment... HOWEVER i can't tell if i just have adjusted to it after the first book but i feel like this book has a lot less of the "cringey" aspects that i mentioned from binding 13. it has become far more natural in this book even more so than the first one and so it just is something that i don't really pay any attention to. like it's important to understand that, yes, these are teenagers. they will do and say stupid teenage things but i think you get used to it and it's not as standout in this book.

favorite part? - the found family. hands down. 100%. getting to read how everyone came together for shannon at the beginning and end of the book really just hit me so hard and the end with them all supporting johnny as well. i just really really adore this found family and the love they all have for each other while still having their flaws. they don't all get along 24/7. they fight and they mess up and they come back to together and i think that's part of what makes it so heartwarming. it's that idea of almost unconditional support, if not love. they are there for each other even when someone is upset with another. i can't wait to keep reading the series and get to see more of it because it truly just makes me so happy to read.

least favorite part? - this is another one where i'm not sure if i have an answer again just like the last book because i think that everything in here served its purpose. if i ignore what i know about the upcoming books, i'd say that i wish we had more of what was going on with gibsie+claire and joey+aoife. but i know that we get to go back to it in the next books and read it from their perspectives so it doesn't really bother me and just makes me more interested/excited in reading more.

favorite quotes (some spoilers here, of course, but minimal):

Promises made, promises broken—the Lynch family motto.

“Wrong school,” I offered with a half-hearted shrug. “Wrong life,” he whispered.

“I need you to take the lead here, Shannon,” he whispered. “You need to tell me what you want from me.” I could feel his heart hammering hard in his chest. The rhythm seemed to match mine. “Because I’m not making any mistakes with you.”

“Better. Alive. Free. Safe. Important. I feel like I can breathe for the first time in days, and that’s only because you’re here—because I’m with you.”

It was different because it mattered—because we mattered to each other.

“Thank you,” I whispered, pulling back to look at him. Johnny frowned in confusion. “For what?” “Asking the right questions.”

It’s like you see me—and I see you. Christ, I think you saw through me that very first day on the pitch at school, because I sure as hell haven’t been the same since, Shannon.

“My life is complicated.” “I want your complications.”

“That from the very first day you walked into my life, you changed me. That very first time I saw you? You sparked to life something inside of me.”

I wanted the world to stop and let us both off because this, right here, was where I wanted to be—where I wanted to stay.

“I’m not in your corner, Shannon,” Johnny replied in a gruff tone. “I’m standing right beside you.”

“You woke me up, Shan. Made me see things differently. Gave me a life outside of rugby. Something to look forward to.”

“You smell like home.” Shivering, I curled my body around hers and pressed a kiss to the curve of her jaw. “You are home.”

“You’re my little darling,” he slurred. “My whole heart’s inside of ya.”

When we’re apart like this, I feel unsteady, like I’m balancing a weight on my shoulders and my reward for not dropping it is seeing your face again.

I belonged with this boy and he belonged with me.

#⊹₊ ⋆ᯓ★ book review #bookblr #book review #review #keeping 13 #chloe walsh #boys of tommen #keeping 13 chloe walsh

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theangiediary · 2 years ago

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@stanfordsweater WW ask

Tumblr ate the original message, so reconstructing here.

happy wincest wednesday angie 🥳 what do you think is sam's favourite funky little costume that dean's ever worn, and vice versa?

Can I be contrary and say.. Sam doesn’t actually like seeing Dean in costume. At most, he’s neutral/occasionally spares a laugh to tease Dean, but it’s not really something he thinks about. Because really Sam delights knowing Dean and seeing other sides of him. Not a character. He’s so used to the mask Dean puts on everyday being the brave hero, brotherfather, etc, that there’s not much appeal to a fake character.

I’m thinking of several scenes:

the (deleted, and then added in later seasons) scene where Sam says he doesn’t like Halloween for general “not a costume” fan

Fresh Blood where he tells Dean to stop acting like he’s not afraid of his upcoming deal because Sam can tell

Faith when he got to hen Dean for a change and took... a bit of an excessive amount of delight in that, imo*

soulless Sam’s reaction to Dean handling Bobby John (new paternal side)

in the renfest battle, Sam enjoyed Dean’s joy, not the costume itself (although it looked damn good).

*IF I was going to go into what headcanon personally delights me.... it’s not really a costume, but I would say Sam would get an uncomfortable boner seeing Dean in a hospital gown. Like, after knowing that Dean’ll be fine, visiting his hospital room and hnnng. It shouldn’t be hot! Sam knows that! But he’s laying there all vulnerable and grumpy and his dick’s this close to being exposed to everyone.....

Dean would notice. It’d take him a second to work out what was happening (he overestimates Sam’s emotional reactions so he’d first think his brother was just especially upset about the injury), but once he figures it out Dean would nick a couple from the room before checkout and instigate the roleplay with him. Something dumb like send him out for dinner, and then soak in ice water for a bit, make himself almost sick before slipping into the gown and waiting for Sam in their shared bed.

Because Dean however, does like seeing Sam in costume. He’s a simple guy- hot person + slutty outfit = yes. Also, opposite to Sam, Dean likes escaping in movies where good wins, evil loses, and so I think he likes playing pretend more overall.

angel/demon sex dream

comments about Jason Voorhees

cowboy fetish

renfest delight

thinking Sam was cute in Our Town

Dean Smith’s everything

So any of them that Sam looked good in, Dean is down. Doesn’t matter if Dean gets to dress up as well, or if Sam performs for him. Full gimp stuff probably not, and lawyer/cop might make him. I don’t know, sad? Reminder of Stanford; too close to what Sam almost is (when separated from Dean). Professor!Sam maybe, especially during the later seasons. They are both kinda booksluts. Naughty student roleplay definitely. He is. So weird. About high school😬. Ooh, spanking, anyone?

The yogi look was hot, but idk maybe Sam needs to respect the character he’s dressed as to buy into it a little bit? Cowboys he’d put up with for Dean’s sake and yeah they’re rough and masculine, but for all his Organic Farmers Market arc of late seasons, he’d eyeroll “weed jesus” men hard.

Hmm, that might be my fun, totally unsupported scenario for Dean actually. First time he got his dick sucked by a dude was in highschool, high as fuck in the back of his friend’s van, Dark Side playing. Dean recreates this memory with Sam, who goes absolutely wild with possession, gonna drive any thoughts of Kyle or anyone else out of Dean's pretty little head. Funny version: Sam gets hit way harder by the weed (low tolerance) and thinks he’s championing this shit, but in reality his timing’s off, no suction, etc, while Dean’s fondly looking down at him in his lap and petting his hair. Uh. The costume part is tie dye t-shirts, a headband for Sammy, and hemp bracelets for Dean.

#happy wincest wednesday #and thank you ava!!! I hope this was ava that sent it 😭

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dememetor · 3 years ago

Note

HEY HEY HEY

I love your writing, can I please get jealous hcs for anyone? Please include suna thi he's my latest brainrot hAHA

hi, thanks for the request! and suna brainrot?? bitch me too the fuck. anyways, hope you enjoy~

(also sorry this is kinda late, i've rewritten iwaizumi and bokuto ones a million times)

Haikyuu boys when they're jealous

characters suna rintarou, kuroo tetsurou, iwaizumi hajime, bokuto koutarou, kenma kozume

warnings none but i'm probably gonna say fuck at some point

Suna Rintarou

he tries to be chill about it, he does

it hurts his ego to be this clingy but god

he can't help but to feel that sour sting of jealousy when he sees another guy approaching you

at first will only take a quick glance from afar, just to check if the guy is bothering you, and then promises himself to stay out of your business

well he doesn't

once he decides the guy has lost talking-to-y/n-alone privilege, he will nonchalantly make his way towards you, one hand in his pocket, other sneaking its way to your shoulder, resting his elbow and giving the poor boy a menacing look

he can be pretty intimidating too with that eyeliner and all

(but that look only works on people that don't know him well, he tried it on atsumu once and the latter just laughed in his face)

not the type to be openly jealous but when he sees someone blatantly flirting with you he will start to give you the Glance

blinks slowly (you know, like that one blonde haired guy gif) and looks at you through raised eyebrows as if to say hey babe, i love you and i trust you. what the fuck tho

and when the guy starts being borderline creepy he'll appear between you - and i mean literally will inject himself between you two and strike a conversation with you as if nothing weird happened

they usually get the hint, but this one guy tried to go around him, still rambling about whatever and suna literally turned on his heel and said "come again?" with such unrivaled coldness, his eyes exuding just sheer fucking spite

but like i said, unless the other guy is asking for it, he's not the type to start a direct confrontation

will take you by the hand and leave without much thought because he simply doesn't have the time for that shit

he might seem grumpy afterwards but a couple of soft kisses usually do the trick

soft kisses which are followed by a breathless make out session with you on his kitchen counter because he still wants you to know you're only his

Kuroo Tetsurou

this little bitch

never gets jealous

and i mean never

once pretended he was jealous just to make you feel better (??? his logic? unparalleled) but once you found out you beat his ass

loves it when you get jealous though (he thinks it's cute)

sometimes he does get insecure, but he shows it in an unusual way

like if you've been talking to someone, smiling at your phone for a while he'll just get up and randomly do a couple puhs-ups, start flexing his muscles and shit

all while you're looking at him like,,

"babe, what are you doing"

"oh i didn't think you'd notice me there. since you're on your damn phone all day"

"...are you my mom?"

nah he'll be fine (will steal your phone though)

also it's the funniest thing when he sees someone trying to flirt with you

he will literally walk over there, introduce himself (not mentioning he's your boyfriend) and act really interested in the conversation

he plays this game where he tries to see how long will it take the guy to realise you two are together (longest time: 24 minutes, record holder: yahaba shigeru)

whenever the guy asks you something he will interrupt you and answer for himself as if the guy were flirting with him

"so, like what do you do in your free time?"

"not mu-"

"oh i love taking long walks on the beach, especially during sunsets. i really think it is healthy for the mind and the soul, not to mention quite romantic too. don't you too love sunsets, kevin?"

at one point kevin will have had enough of it

"i was talking to y/n alone here"

"aw don't worry, you're not bothering me"

he is such a pain in the ass

why can't he just be normal

Iwaizumi Hajime

rational, mature, i love him

seriously, he is the bestest boy and he will treat you so well because he trusts you and respects your friendship with other guys as well

but on those rare occasions when he does get jealous,, oh boy

first of all, the PDA skyrockets, he has to have his arm around you at all times - around your shoulder? on your waist? in your backpocket? his hand's been there done that

not in any way possesive but will be really annoying unless you give him your full undivided attention that day

he lets himself be selfish a bit, after all he is your boyfriend he can have you all to himself for a day, right?

jealous sex with him? better prepare a wheelchair cause you want be able to walk straight tomorrow

sees a boy trying to flirt with you? tries not to make a scene but absolutely will throw the first punch if he needs to

one day he was having a particularly rough time at practice and all he wanted to do was lose himself in your arms and fall asleep to the feeling your fingertips tangled in his hair

and then he saw this?? guy? (the audacity!) laughing with you after telling some dumb joke and let me tell you - iwaizumi wasn't having any of it

he came up to you from behind, wrapped his arms around your waist and planted a small kiss on the crook of your neck

"when are we going home, love?"

and he gives him the calmest yet most fear inducing stare from behind you

and suddenly the pattern on poor boy's pants starts to look awful lot like piss stain

it is actually kinda hot how one single look from him can cause such a reaction

"he was just asking about english homework babe"

"yeah that's what they all say"

Bokuto Koutarou

gets jealous so so easily

it is actually fascinating

will get mad at otome games

"what does jumin han have that i don't???"

god forbid you pay attention to your pet more than him (btw you have a golden retriever and his name is bean)

you're sitting on the couch cuddling with your dog, scratching his ears, ruffling his fur and all that, and there he is, your clingy boyfriend, snuggling right next to you, demanding you play with his hair too

so dramatic

"you smiled at him... the way you used to smile at me..."

"bokuto, he's a dog"

the only guy he trusts 100% to be around you is akaashi, even kuroo is on thin ice

but him and akaashi are something else, one time you three had a sleepover and you felt like you were the third wheel

will act like a tough serious boyfriend in front of others, especially your other guy friends but in reality will look for affection immediately after

oh while we're at it - jealous bokuto kisses? are the best kisses

will also force you to wear one of his shirts for the rest of the day

my poor man is so touch starved so when he feels insecure or jealous he will look for comfort in things like holding your hand, nuzzling your neck or giving forehead kisses

but later that day, when you two are sitting on the couch cuddling he will quietly ask you something along the lines of "you still think i'm pretty, right?"

you can feel him all over you - his hands are creeping down your waist, he's pulling you in, deepening the kiss until all you can see, think and feel is him

he wants to show you exactly how much he wants you and what you were missing out on while you weren't paying attention to him

and it shocks you for a moment because you didn't realise just how much that one short moment of jealousy actually stayed with him

you have to reassure him he's the most beautiful boy you have ever met, and not only that, but also the funniest and the most caring person as well, and that you would never leave his side no matter what happened

and as much as he loves getting praised he always gets embarrassed, so he just smiles in return, but he is also happy to know you're there for him and you don't think he is too much

Kenma Kozume

it depends on his mood honestly

sometimes he doesn't mind it even if the other guy is flirting with you and sometimes will get pissy if you smile at the cashier

but when this boy gets really jealous oh my GOD

he is just like bokuto if not worse; he just hides it so well

one time you went grocery shopping with him and spent the entire time texting your friend who had just told you she was visiting your city

and he got so offended

you didn't even notice it until later that day when you came home and he suddenly refused to cuddle with you

silent treatment

lifts his nose and ignores you, only giving you dirty side glances from under the eye

such a massive sense of pride in those 170 cm even oikawa would be impressed

in my country there's a saying "it's in the smallest bottle that the poison lies" and honestly? yeah

at some point you realise why he's acting like that and you start teasing him

"i am not jealous i am just mildly irritated" is the only thing he deems necessary to say before going back to being unnecessarily pissed

he reminds you of an angry cat

it's kind of amusing seeing him like this but you were also getting real tired of his shit

don't even try bribing him (you tried buying him over with a ps5 but he just looked at you unimpressed, disgusted that you think so low of him)

the only thing he will accept is a sincere apology

if it's sincere or not is up to him to decide, obviously

which can lead to quite some bickering

will try to get you to beg but please have dignity, if you do it once he will make you do it every time

yeah generally a lttle shit but his kisses after making up are just as eager as yours so

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moonctzeny · 3 years ago

Text

The Lovers

pairing: art student!taeyong x fem!reader

genre: smut, angst

word count: 6k

other members as background characters: mainly johnny, doyoung

warnings: unprotected sex, abuse of alcohol, smoking, reader has an abusive ex, public fingering, mentions of high school bullying

summary: “Taeyong isn't a fan of surrealism. When he decided to enroll into art school he did it for his love of Renaissance, Baroque, the obvious and undeniable beauty of Rococo. He liked the simple things and led a simple life, until he met you; the obvious beauty of a classmate you were that would make him feel more things than what he thought was humanely possible. When you're grouped together in a project dedicated to the works of René Magritte, Taeyong will come to the realization that life immitates art, and life is anything but the preconditioned perceptions of reality he's used to.”

a/n: this is my entry for Gallery Taeyong collab! Happy belated birthday bubu �� This fic was inspired by the works of surrealist painter René Magritte and specifically The Lovers II. I’ve loved his works for a long time so this was very creatively pleasant for me!

tagging: @alreadyblondenow , @sirrenjun , @markresonates

——————————————————

PART I - THE FALSE MIRROR

He wouldn’t be so grumpy if he had to take the class for any other art movement.

Taeyong could get lost for days in a mural of the Renaissance, calculating all the different ways the painter managed to achieve total geometric symmetry. He would look at every individual figure, study their body language, their unique expression; discover all the little ways they contributed to the larger masterpiece. It comforted him when he found himself lost amongst the big crowds of students at the art school he attended. Even if he wasn’t the most interesting or gifted one, even in the total black look he sported with only his customized vans giving away his major, maybe he also contributed in his own way to the mural called life.

And sure, he knew why he had to take that class. As frustrating as it is to him, Surrealism is a huge movement that impacted generations of artists, and not learning about it as a painting major would sound criminal to most. He could maybe put up with the mandatory assignment if he had to analyze Dali’s work. Taeyong could at least recognize the talent needed to make those microscopic paintings that were interesting enough to look at. He even got one of those melting clocks as a ‘house (dorm) warming’ gift from his best friend, Doyoung, hanging strangely between the cracks of one of his walls.

Taeyong loved art because it overrated people. Through the strokes of an artist’s brush, he could discover layers of the human psyche; layers that he just couldn’t see in real life. If anything, Taeyong thought he could read people at first sight pretty well. The girl who sometimes talked to him in sculpture class, with the pink hair and baby bangs, has daddy issues. The tall lanky dude that winks at him at the cafeteria, covered in rings and chains and fancy piercings, probably cries himself to sleep. Taeyong, who was bullied again and again throughout his high school years for being different, fades in the background of someone else’s story, making sure that all the shades of black he’s wearing match each other.

The constant rating and assessment of other people exhausted him, but he just couldn’t help it. In the sacredness of his dorm, with no faces to shield away from in fear of getting judged, he could finally be himself.

Unwinding after a long and uneventful day, Taeyong enjoys the smoke that makes his mind a little too foggy to think anymore. The smell sticks on his clothes, the leaves of his indoor plants, it fits itself between those wall cracks. He almost dozes off in the tranquility, sprawled out on his messy sheets, when his phone’s buzz jolts him awake.

Unknown number

hey, we got partnered up together for surrealism class, your friend Ten gave me your number

the professor assigned us Rene Magritte

want to meet up so we can start with the assignment?

Taeyong might have skipped the first class of Surrealism 101. Blame it on being a good friend, or his inability to handle alcohol, let alone whiskey. Being a Philosophy major wasn’t easy for one’s sanity, and Doyoung went on a serious existential crisis last night. Not to mention, the nonsensical nature of Surrealism sure doesn’t go well with a bad hangover. Damn Plato.

uhh yeah sorry for being mia yesterday

you can come over to my dorm this evening if you want

Unknown number

give me your location, I’ll be there at 8

I’m y/n btw

The knock on his door came twenty minutes past eight. Taeyong quickly puts out the cigarette that was busying his lips, already missing the bitter taste of smoke when he gets to the door.

“You must be Taeyong. I’m y/n.”

Beautiful. That is the first word that pops into his head when he lays his eyes on you.

Taeyong had never seen someone that quite looks like you. From your eyes, to your lips, to the proportions of your body. You were wearing a simple summer dress, one that was maybe too light for the chilly autumn weather but pretty nonetheless. It seemed like angels had descended from heaven, leading you into his arms with their serene singing; he could hear it clearly in his head.

He lets you in his dorm politely, catching a whiff of your cologne that has him hooked already. His fingers are itching to grab a medium, any medium- charcoal, watercolor, oil paints and immortalize you, in fear that you might vanish suddenly, slip from his line of sight.

He still hasn’t muttered a single word, he realizes when he sees the indexes of the melting clock moving steadily, reminding him that time still does go by. The small couch that he barely managed to fit in the entrance area of his dorm struggles to fit you both, the proximity making him dizzy. You’d be the one to break the silence.

“So, do you like Surrealism?”

“Not really”

Taken aback by his statement, you turn your body sideways to face him, at least as much as the limited space allows you to. You could start off with something lighter, like “I like your place” or “How did you meet Ten?”, yet you hated small talk.

“How come?”

“It’s just… a mess. It makes no sense. Most of the art isn’t even nice to look at. You have to search and search for some kind of meaning, only to be left even more confused.”

“Don’t you think that looking for meaning in a surrealistic painting negates the whole point of the movement itself?”

“But there must be a meaning. Even if the artists are painting from their subconscious, they are pulling something out of the deepest recesses of their minds. Surely it means something.”

“Sometimes it does, sometimes it doesn’t. Do you like making sense out of people, Taeyong?”

“People are pretty similar. They act in certain behavioral patterns. They reflect whatever it is they are feeling inside on the surface.”

“And what sense do you make of me?”

Taeyong gets startled by the question. Surely he has an answer, calculating people was sort of like his hobby, yet he doesn’t know how candid he can be with someone he just met. He takes the matted-down cigarette he put out earlier and places it between his lips, lighting it again.

“You dress neatly. You’re pretty, and not afraid to show it. If I can read through that nice manicure correctly, I’d say you grew up with French and piano tutoring. You’re close with your mom and want to be like her. A good girl.”

Your sardonic smile is visible even through the thick smoke. You seem to mutter something that Taeyong’s ears can’t quite catch, before taking out a piece of paper with a painting printed on it.

“The False Mirror, 1928. It’s the first piece we have to analyze.”

Taeyong takes the print from your hands carefully, squinting his eyes as they scan through its entirety. It’s an eye, not very realistically depicted, with a circular sky placed inside the otherwise ordinary oculus.

“An eye”, he states matter-of-factly, and you scoot right next to him on the couch.

“Yes, without the face. Out of its usual context.”

“So you’re saying that the artist purposefully makes a bizarre combination to stimulate the viewer?”

“Not just to stimulate, but to force them to raise a question.”

“The eyes are the mirror to the soul?”

“A parody of that, yes. Magritte said that the function of painting is to make poetry visible, after all.”

Taeyong stares at the piece some more as he finishes his cigarette, and it makes him feel more uneasy with every second that passes by. Is the sky a reflection of what the eye is seeing? The lack of detail in the artistry makes it hard to tell.

“It almost seems like it’s an opening to a new reality.”

“It’s an invitation to see the world differently. Not everything is as it seems.”

The last comment feels like a jab at your conversation earlier, and it makes Taeyong leave the painting on the table finally. It all seems ugly and weird and the piece is making him upset by forcing him to look past the obvious that he loves so much.

“You seem really good at this”, he says and lets some of the ashes smoke out the white, fluffy clouds, “I’m not worried about the assignment at all. I can send you a small analysis tomorrow and we can combine it with yours-”

“Is this your way of nicely kicking me out of your dorm?”, you joke and Taeyong panics, moving his hands frantically over his face. Your presence was more than welcome, even if you did make him a little nervous. He wasn’t used to such beauty being so close to him, alive, breathing. As he sees you smile back at him brightly, he thinks that life truly imitates art.

“No, not at all! You can stay as long as you want! I can order pizza and you can tell me more about yourself.”

“Hmmm. I have a better idea.”

Taeyong doesn’t know how he ended up with you at a stranger’s house party, nor exactly how you convinced him to tag along. He follows you inside the stuffy apartment, the led lights and loud music already giving him a headache. The sweat of the people dancing is dripping from the ceiling, making him even more claustrophobic, clinging onto you.

You pour him a drink and Taeyong reluctantly accepts it, well aware of how strong it is for him. He takes a small sip while you down your whole glass in one shot, making his eyes bulge out of his head in shock. He tries to make small talk, ask you about the party thrower and advise you to slow down, yet your attention is fixated on a group of loud men.

“Be right back”, you tell him as you excuse yourself, and he watches as you tackle the tallest of them all in a big hug.

You scream his name and look up at him dearly, and Taeyong can already tell that you and ‘Johnny’ are more than just friends. He notices how you try to make yourself bigger in front of him, how nervous you seem as you initiate conversation. He can also notice how much more interested you seem in him than he does in you.

Taeyong feels as if he’s probing at something he shouldn’t, so he turns around and gulps the rest of his drink with difficulty. Defeated and with a hint of sadness coating your eyes you return to the kitchen and pour yourself another drink, stronger this time.

He asks you questions about your interests to distract you, maybe even calm you down. While the alcohol confuses you both and the loud music muffles a lot of the words together, Taeyong manages to learn a lot about you. You started painting as a means of escape, surrealism and gore being your favorite. Carbonated drinks give you the hiccups and you unironically like the most pretentious of indie bands. You have a tattoo of your first pet on your left buttcheek that you will never let your parents know about. Your smile has the ability to raise his heart rate in a split second.

Taeyong stays silent as you empty the glass once more, but he has to interrupt when you try to drink straight from the bottle. You hop on the counter so that he’s sat between your thighs, whining as he takes it out of your hands. The extra sips you stole made you just as tipsy as him and you ground yourself with the feeling of his palms on your thighs.

“You shouldn’t drink so much”, he slurs and squeezes the muscles a little, the fabric of your dress, making his fingers run effortlessly over them. You love the attention.

Your own fingers weave through his locks, tugging them a little so that you pump out even more attention from him. He looks so pretty looking up at you like that, blown-out pupils taking everything in and waiting for your next move.

“Let’s do something else then.”

You seal the proposal with a kiss, tasting the alcohol on Taeyong’s soft lips. He kisses you back feverishly after he’s over the initial shock, his brain unable to realize if this moment he shares with the pretty girl that visited his dorm earlier this evening is real or not. Soon his tongue disappears inside your mouth, running over your teeth and playing with you further.

You guide his hands under your skirt as he breaks the skin of your neck with his teeth, and a single finger over your panties makes a shiver go down your spine. He toys with the hem some more, slowly feeling the fabric dampen but never taking it further.

“I want your fingers inside me”, you plead in his ears, your voice airy and breaking with desperation.

“There are people around”

“No one gives a fuck. I need you.”

Taeyong hisses in an inner battle with his self-control, yet your glossy doe eyes take the win. He pushes your panties to the side carefully, moving even closer between your legs to hide the sinful act as much as he can. His body feels hot against you and when he dips his middle finger inside you have to grip onto his shoulders so that you don’t dissolve in the feeling.

“Faster”, you beg and he inserts his index as well, painting a pearly purple love bite over your collarbones. With every drag of his fingertips against your walls, he drags a moan out of your lips as well, the pretty sound getting buried in the deep bass of the loud music.

Just as he feels you falling over the edge, searching your face for the lewd expressions of orgasmic pleasure, he realizes that your eyes are glued provocatively onto another man.

PART II - EMPIRE OF LIGHT

It’d been exactly 33 hours since the last time he saw you. You were both stumbling outside of the house party, drunk and disoriented and with the taste of your orgasm still on your tongues, yet Taeyong somehow managed to call you a cab. He remembers being pissed off and confused over your behavior, refusing your advances and your proposal to follow you home.

You texted him later that next day, thanking him for taking care of you and asking him to meet up for your project. You didn’t mention your moment of intimacy, nor Johnny, neither did you apologize for that night. Taeyong agreed and offered his place once again for your rendezvous. The indexes of the melting clock taunt his anxiety as he waits for you to arrive.

The knock on his door came 20 minutes late again, and Taeyong writes it down as another one of your habits. Your eyes look tired and your skin looks dull, yet you’re still styled in a neat and pretty outfit. It was weird seeing you in the light of day, without being surrounded by the darkness that fits you so well. All the flaws that Taeyong could see in you in the morning were humanizing while simultaneously showing him just how different you are compared to him.

You walk in confidently, almost as if you own the place, and throw your body onto his couch. Taeyong chuckles incredulously, joining you after he lights a new cigarette. You take out another print from your bag and he hears the faint clanging of glass bottles as you do.

The painting looks a little more artistically pleasing this time, yet there’s something that still gives off an unsettling feeling. After his eyes get used to the high contrasts, he notices that the nocturnal street scene is set against a light-drenched morning sky. One of the most fundamental premises of life is being messed with, and light, while usually something that’s a source of clarity, causes him confusion and uneasiness.

“Empire of Light, 1950”, you start explaining, fanning out the smoke with your hands when it reaches you, “Magritte painted this scene numerous times. It’s a paradoxical combination of day and night. The conception of a picture, that is, the idea, is not visible in the picture: an idea cannot be seen with the eyes. What is represented in a picture is what is visible to the eyes, it is the thing or things that must have been ideated. The landscape evokes night and the sky evokes day. He called this power: poetry.”

Taeyong blows his smoke on the house depicted, as if the landlady would open one of the small windows and tell him off, providing another small light source in the painting.

“A paradox”, he repeats, toying the sour word with his tongue and mixing it with the bitterness of the tobacco, “Like the paradox of a girl with pretty dresses that’s addicted to alcohol.”

You realize he’s talking about you yet you decide to play dumb, hiding in the silence of the room. And Taeyong lets you hide but only for a few seconds, before he grabs the alcohol bottles from your bag and places them over the painting. One of them, a digestif, gets stuck on the paper, adding a caramel-colored ring over the light-blue sky.

“I like to drink. So what?”

“You have a problem. Who the fuck carries three half-empty bottles of booze in their school bag?”

“You don’t know when I drunk them”

“You reek of liquor”

His stare is unnerving, shoving you into an imaginary corner and casting an interrogation beacon on you. With trembling hands and heated cheeks, you grab a pack of gums from the jean jacket you brought along and start to chew aggressively. There’s a caretaker value in him that makes your stomach warm and your head foggy at the same time.

“Says the guy with the lung cancer between his lips. Since you like playing therapist so much then you’d know that we all have our coping mechanisms. We all have that something or someone to use that makes us feel better.”

Something in Taeyong shifts after what you said, evident in the way his jaw tightens.

“Is it because of this Johnny guy? You can tell me you know, I’m no therapist but I’m your friend.”

You scoff, giving him a once over. “A friend? Is that what you call everyone you finger fuck in a room full of people?”

You try your hardest to hold back your laughter at Taeyong’s reddening cheeks as he notices the healing hickeys he’s left on you. His intentions are clear and they seem as pure as they can be, so you pace around the room a little to organize your thoughts.

“It’s not because of Johnny. It’s because of my ex. He was the type of guy that can take you to heaven and then drag you to hell in the same breath. When someone you love tells you daily just how worthless you are the insult ends up staying inside your skull for longer than bearable.”

You get dizzy from the circles you paced so you sit down on his desk chair this time. The rolling motion comforts you a little so you find the courage to spill more of your heart out.

“The booze makes the voice shut up. Sex helps too. Johnny is just a fuck buddy of mine. He has his eyes.”

Taeyong gulps dryly at your confessions but listens carefully nonetheless. There is a weight in his chest and an itch over the fingers that he used that night.

“So I was a distraction too?”

“I’m sorry if you feel used, but aren’t all hookups a distraction if you think about it? Besides, it was good. The finger fucking, I mean. I don’t regret it.”

Taeyong weighed all the possible responses to your compliment, but he soon concluded that avoiding them all would be best.

“I’m sorry this happened to you, no one deserves this. But this coping mechanism is going to ruin you.”

“I know. And I know that you deserve better than whatever mess I am. Sorry for dragging you into this.”

“You didn’t force me into anything, don’t worry. I am a little guilty of indulging as well.”

You take a minute to take him all in, and you almost lose him in his all-black attire. Some of his works that you hadn’t noticed last time are hanging from the walls. It’s mostly beautiful women, surrounded by lines and shapes in bright colors. The intensity and liveliness of the paintings surprise you, so very different than the man who’s sitting in front of you.

“Enough about me. What is it with you? Besides our friend Ten, you seem to be like a ghost to everyone else.”

“I like blending in, sticking out is uncomfortable.”

“Is that why you dress like a watered-down Hot Topic employee?”

“Being invisible isn’t such a bad thing.”

“Yeah. Maybe I should try that. You know, sometimes, I like to hang around the train station for hours. I daydream of packing my necessities and leaving this place forever. Start a new life with a new name, a new life that is not as cursed as this one is. I don’t even know what’s stopping me from leaving everything I am behind.”

You watch curiously as Taeyong gets up from the couch and walks slowly up to you. You think he’ll probably ask you to leave, or tell you to at least get up from his comfortable chair you’re occupying, yet you still in shock when he wraps his arms around you. He smells nice, very sweet, and homey, just like his embrace. It’s been years since the last time you felt so light.

“No. You’re meant to be here.”, he murmurs through your hair, “You’re meant to be seen. You’re full of color.”

“Like the women in your paintings?”

Taeyong hums affirmatively, the vibration relaxing you even more. “You’re the type of person artists make whole oeuvres about.”

You continue working on the project pleasantly, and your little team is starting to gel. You guide Taeyong with your valuable knowledge on surrealism, and in return he lets you play your pretentious indie bands as background noise. You love how kind and understanding he is, and you admire his effortless leadership skills. He’s been glued next to your leg the entire time, looking up at you from his seat on the floor. And when he rests his head on your thigh and you pet his hair until he purrs, you both telepathically agree not to comment on it.

It’s getting late and Taeyong’s walking you out of his dorm, his jacket hanging from your shoulders since the sun is down by now. You can feel the anxiety oozing from his body.

“So, ummm. I was wondering if you’d ummm, like to go out somewhere tomorrow.”

“Lee Taeyong, are you asking me out on a date?”

“No no! I mean, I just want to hang out with you. Unless you want it to be a date. Then I’m completely fine with that.”

You giggle at his rambling, high on the warmth of his clothes that remind you of his embrace earlier.

“There’s an art exhibition downtown. We can go check it out if you want.”

“I’d love that.”

You peck his cheek sweetly before leaving, and the contact of your lips against his skin will burn him for the rest of the night. You don’t even notice that you forgot the bottles of alcohol at his apartment.

PART III - THE LOVERS

For your gallery date, you were early for the first time. Drenched in a healthy glow, with crystal eyes and the brightest smile. How could anyone expect Taeyong to pay attention to the art pieces when you were standing right next to him? The whole time you were silently appreciating the artwork, he had his own studying to do as well. His talent in reading people would find a creative purpose for the first time as he thought of what earthy tones and stroke techniques would best depict you on paper. You always seemed too much for him to paint, too complex and deep and beautiful for his level of artistry.

If you noticed his staring, you didn’t say a thing, but when he decided to intertwine his fingers with yours, your palm sweated a little. He thought your hand was made for his, with how perfectly it fit inside it, and Taeyong wished he could cling onto the feeling forever. He walked you home like the gentleman he is, but not before he treated you with your favorite ice cream as you talked about art for hours. He didn’t make a move to kiss you, nor did you suggest to lead him inside your place and then inside you.

When you asked him how come he hadn’t lit a cigarette the entire night, he simply told you he quit. Tobacco tastes so bland compared to the smell of your perfume without the hints of alcohol.

And that’s how the rest of the week flew by, meeting every day and spending most of their duration together. You’d study for your project, or watch movies, or cuddle in between those two. An undisclosed desire was dripping from your lips, yet what you have is too delicate to be recklessly disrupted, so you toy between the lines of platonic love. A hug that lingers for too long, a growing hard-on hiding under thick jeans, curious fingers that dance too close to the top of your thighs.

Tonight, Taeyong is waiting for your study date at his dorm, as always. He still hasn’t realized how late it’s gotten, lost between the painting materials that are scattered across the floor. Prussian blues, bright reds, and cad yellows. He jumps when he hears you knocking, startled by the sudden noise and his own excitement.

You appear in another one of your dresses, a red one this time, topped with his jacket that’s now a wardrobe staple for you. Taeyong thinks you look pretty as ever because tonight, you look his.

Peeking over his shoulder, you notice his half-finished work, and you’re immediately enamored with the plethora of colors that seem to reel you in. In the middle of the canvas, you see a woman that resembles you in the most flattering way possible. She’s you but more interesting, more caring, brighter, kinder. It’s an image of you, an impression of you. It’s how Taeyong chooses to see you.

You don’t even tell him hi as you walk through his doorstep, the electric look you share already saying it all. He leans over his door to lock it, just a deep breath away for your chests to meet, and the moment he’s turned the key for the last loop you’re pressed up against it. You know you’re too close when you can tell he smells like those cinnamon gums you love so much, so you decide to have a taste.

Your teeth clash as your lips crash against his, and the hunger that you feel for him overwhelms you. The night you shared at that party couldn’t even compare to the way he kisses you now, so full of purpose that he almost scares you. He leads you blindly over the small couch, grunting as he falls on top of you, and you continue to nibble his pretty lips over and over again.

Time freezes when you’re one like that, lightheaded and moving your tongues to taste each other. Taeyong grinds against your clothes, making your abdomen feel like it’s on fire, and your mouth waters at the conceivable length. He pulls away for just a moment, raw in his messy hair and puffy lips. The hem of your dress curls into his fists, and you’re shocked at how it doesn’t rip from the force.

He does the same for your underwear, impatiently taking it off of you until you’re bear and wet underneath him. He pushes you higher up the cushions, throwing your legs over his shoulders when he’s fit himself semi-comfortably. The shaky breaths he leaves against your lower lips make your whole body tingle, and when he first licks your clit you swear you’re seeing stars. His tongue gets covered in your sweet taste, tirelessly sucking and kissing that one spot that makes your voice sing for him louder. You’re just so beautiful when you finally come against his mouth, covering his chin in your juices and shaking in pleasure.

As he waits for your body to cool off, spreading loving kisses around your navel, Taeyong notices the fingerprints of paint that he has left on your inner thighs. The mere sight of you marked by a color he made on his own fires up the embers in him again, and you urge him to take his clothes off in agreement.

The first thing you notice is the delicate tattoos that subtly decorate his body. They’re small but meaningful, just like himself, and the thought of kissing every single one of them turns into a challenge. The next thing that demands your attention is his angry member that is staring right back at you, a pretty pink in color and thick enough to make you scream.

You bring him closer by the back of his thighs, pulling him in until you’re level-headed with his hipbones. Your tongue teases his tip until the whole thing bounces against it uncontrollably, so you take him all in, in hopes of calming him down. He’s hard already, so hard in fact that you’re scared he’s going to come in a few minutes if you keep at it. You bob your head enthusiastically either way, locking your eyes with his seductively and moaning around his throbbing cock. The salty excitement tingles your taste buds and he pulls you away with a sob and a tug on your hair, his face all fucked out and sexy.

“I want to fuck you first.”

The dirtiness that contrasts him excites you, so you put on your most innocent expression as you open up your hole with your index and middle finger.

“Dive in”

And that’s exactly what Taeyong does, bottoming out inside your tight wetness that feels as heavenly as he’d ever dream of. His hands roam all over your body as he snaps his hips against you, feeling up the softness of your breasts and pressing down your carotid until you mewl for him. It drives him insane just how submissive you look for him so he picks up the pace, fucking into you so fiercely that you slip from the small furniture and pile up on top of him on the floor.

You both laugh blithely at the accident and continue making out on his rug, your bodies warmed up and ready to continue. You roll your way to the middle of the living room, where Taeyong was painting earlier, and he sits you up on all fours for him. Your hands get dirty with the acrylics but it doesn’t really matter when he starts fucking you again, successfully reaching the deepest spots of you. It gets too much as you’re sucking him in, and you reach for the canvas itself for some sort of stability. As your dirty palms drag down on the freshly dried-up painting, you realize that you and Taeyong are now part of the artwork. And he surely adds the finishing touch just seconds later when he pulls out of you, painting ropes of white over your back.

This is usually the point when you have to take your walk of shame, so staying in his arms to cuddle after he cleans you up is a pleasant first for you. He helps you up your wobbly legs and leads you to his more comfortable bed, where he offers you a glass of water and plants a kiss over the carpet burns. It doesn’t take long for him to fall asleep soundly next to you, leaving you in awe of his sleeping beauty.

Somewhere close to the entrance, the print of The Lovers that you were supposed to analyze still lays untouched. Two figures with their faces covered by a white, deathlike cloth that keeps them forever apart, unable to truly communicate or touch. A frustrated desire is depicted. To some, the inability to fully unveil the true nature of even our most intimate companions.

Your phone that is thrown lazily on top of Taeyong’s bedside table flashes in bright blue light.

Johnny

I miss you, wanna come over? I have whiskey.

PART V - TIME TRANSFIXED

The sweet memories of last night flood Taeyong’s mind before he even opens up his eyes. He smiles at the morning light that bounces off his skin, stretching his arms to pull you in his embrace, yet he’s met with the flat mattress instead. He looks for you in the room that seems too empty all of a sudden, when he hears the wrenching sound of someone getting sick in the bathroom.

You crawl out of it a minute later, disheveled and wearing a t-shirt that Taeyong doesn’t recognize as his own. You were in the middle of collecting your things from his apartment when he clears his throat loudly to catch your attention.

“Did you leave last night?”

He’s met with silence. Cold, guilty silence.

“Did you drink again?”

The birds that chirp outside in cruel contradiction seem to mock him, so he moves quickly to his closet, turning a pile of clothes upside down. He finally finds an old pack of Parliaments and he lights one up, waiting for any sort of honesty from you. Your eyes stay glued to the floor, the pounding headache not making anything easier for you.

“You went to Johnny’s didn’t you.”

“Why are you asking me questions you already know the answers to?”

It’s so hard to excuse you this time. So hard to see the bigger picture. Taeyong implodes within himself like a dying star, and the tears start streaming down his pretty face. The big emotions combined with the smoke make a sob get caught in his throat, his hands pulling on the strands of hair that were previously flattened from sleep.

“Why? I thought you decided to quit. I thought we both made progress. I thought-”

“Well, you thought wrong Taeyong! People aren’t straight, symmetric lines and pretty shapes that you can place wherever you want on your canvas. They’re ugly, like cracking, bleeding paint, and I will never be the masterpiece you so badly want me to be.”

You grab your last belongings from his couch and charge towards the door, ignoring his calls of your name. The next Magritte painting Taeyong would have to see on his own.

He’s been staring at the print for about an hour now. You hadn’t contacted him for a day, and he was too proud to text you first. Your presence has become a routine, and for a moment he thinks that if he looks to his right you’d be right there, sprawled on the small couch.

The painting confuses him, as always, and with the loss of your guide he feels helpless against it. He waits for the clock on the top of the fireplace to come alive, and that is when Taeyong realizes that he’s stuck in a loop. In a life that he doesn’t have any reign over, in fear that its largeness will devour him whole.

He grabs his things like a maniac, leaves his place and gets on the first cab he sees. He screams at the driver to get to the train station quickly, a speeding ticket be damned. Strangers take weird looks at him as he hurries past them, most of them thinking that he’s late for a departure.

“Ladies and gentlemen. The train to ___ will depart in exactly one minute.”

You’re wearing the same dress you did when he saw you for the first time, entering the wagon with an overfilled suitcase. Taeyong shouts your name as if you’re the only person there because to him, you truly are. He doesn’t know when he started crying again, but the smile on your face when you see him makes his world colorful again.

You’re stepping out. There’s still hope.

#gallery taeyong collab #neosmutcollective #neowritingsnet #taeyong smut #taeyong angst #taeyong x reader #taeyong scenarios #taeyong fanfic #nct smut #nct angst #nct fanfic #nct scenarios #lee taeyong #superm smut #superm angst

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benjaminthewolf · 3 years ago

Text

Comfort Food (OC Vore Story)

Well, ok, one of them isn't technechally an OC so much as a fanchild character (who's grown up now dw) created by someone else who I now have custody over.

The other one though, they're all mine. (They use he/they pronouns btw. It switches between paragraph clusters.)

****

Maxus was in a pretty grumpy mood. Well, okay, Maxus was in a much more grumpy mood than normal. Not only had he stubbed his toe on his bedroom desk this morning, spilled his coffee all over the kitchen floor in a rush to get out the door, (just barely missing the living room carpet mind you), got stuck in a traffic jam and somehow narrowly avoided being late to work; but then at said work, he had gotten into such a ginormous argument in the boardroom, that he was rather precariously teetering on the edge of being just one slight annoyance away from yeeting something across the room with all his might by the end of it all. And to top all of that off, in a near-split second decision during his commute back home, he had rather abruptly swerved to the right and back to the middle of the road in order to evade the terrifying near-reality of running right into a drain gutter while in his positively fuming state, which, would not only have rendered his car completely and utterly stuck, but it would also force him to shill out a good amount of money for repairs. That, and…well, remember what I said about him being one small annoyance away from yeeting something with all his might?

As such, you could practically see the cartoon smoke lines rising up and out of his being as he, quite bruyantly and aggressively, (obviously), stormed his way through the front door of the house, created a deafening slam behind him as he shut and locked it, and semi-begrudgingly trotted up to the stairs in a continual fuming fit, until he finally made it up to his room, which, when one stopped to think about it, all beared an odd resemblance, an almost terrifying resemblance, actually, to how a rebellious, pouty toddler would act after being told to go to their room. All this to say that in doing so, he had completely and utterly ignored the considerably worried words, and just overall sympathetic demeanor of his temporary roommate Cami as he did so. (Cami owns the house, Maxus is just staying with him for a while.)

Ruthlessly slamming the door shut behind him before locking it, Cami wasn’t even given a chance to speak to Maxus before the brimmingly enraged man began breathing rather heavily as he stood in the middle of his room, mindlessly pacing back and forth, locked up tight in his own headspace as he continuously went in circles around the carpeted floor, before he at last, after about half a second of what could barely even be called “consideration”, almost instinctively launched a close-fisted assault on his bed pillow, letting out a noise that could only be described as a half-whimper half-suppressed-scream in the process.

Cami, who was now leaning up against the dark brown wooden door to Maxus’ room in an attempt to figure out what was going on inside, was a catboy with dark blue ears, eyes, and a tail. He also possessed a rather large pair of dark blue feathery wings. He had skin the color white, and jet black hair. He wore a yellow sweater with a light blue paw print on it, as well as a collar with a tag labeled “C”, dark blue cat paw gloves, and pants, and black shoes.

Maxus, who was still considerably preoccupied on ferociously and flagrantly violating every single square inch of fabric on this pillow until the damm stuffing began to squeeze out, was of the same species as Cami, minus the catboy aspects. He wore a yellow sweater with a purple “A” symbol on it, a blue mask that was currently hiding his gritting, clenched teeth behind its silky cloth veil, light blue pants, and black shoes. His left eye was blue, and his right one was yellow, but both of them were currently fixated with a bloodshot, savage glare on the floor right beside the bed, his own large, dark blue wings slowly rising and falling along with his diaphragm as he continued his furious, labored breathing while allowing his arms to do what little they could to support his form by leaning in forwards onto the bed mattress.

Cami, once he had deduced that the worst of Maxus’ outburst was over, hesitantly opened his mouth before his voice box tensed up in reconsideration of whether it actually wanted to do this or not. With his lip quivering slightly as he contemplated, it ultimately would not matter whether or not Cami spoke up, as in the end, Maxus would do so for him.

“Cami, I know you’re there. Go away.”

Cami was almost instantly struck with an abrupt loss for words for a few seconds before he finally managed to snap himself out of his hesitation and speak up at last.

“M-Maxus-”

“I don’t want you coming in here to try and cheer me up! Just leave me alone!”

“But-”

“I SAID LEAVE!”

As they were but immediately verbally shut up and mentally shut down by Maxus’ sudden show of aggression towards them, the poor, anxious catboy was ultimately left with no choice but to do as they were told . Slowly taking a few steps away from the door, Cami’s ears instantly pricked up and tilted themselves back toward its frame as Maxus gave an elongated sigh, and…well Cami couldn’t exactly visually verify it, but he was pretty sure he had just collapsed onto his bed.

Instead of going into his own room or heading down to the first floor, Cami merely took a few cautious paces forwards in the hall, doing their very best not to step onto any of the squeaky floorboards that resided as structure under the carpets as he did, (The house was a bit on the older side after all), and merley sat down at the far end of the hall’s length, right at the top of the stairs. Cami had no idea how long it was going to be until Maxus granted them entry, but they did know one thing at the very least, and that one thing was that Maxus needed help, and they were determined to do whatever they possibly could in that regard to fulfill that need.

****

Cami swiftly checked the clock that was mounted on the wall right in front of the end of the stairs and gave a nod. Thirty minutes had passed. Maybe Maxus would be more open to talking now. Cami shrugged their shoulders. Only one way to find out.

Being just as careful as they were previously to not accidentally activate any of those darned squeaky floorboards, Cami was soon right back at that same position of simply standing and staring at the great dark brown mass of wood that was Maxus’ bedroom door, continuously going over each and every single one of the pros and cons that would result from each and every single possible decision they could make here. Once again, however, it ultimately would not matter what Cami would choose, as Maxus from inside the room gave an audible sigh of slight annoyance over toned with begrudging acceptance, before following it up with words.

“I can see your shadow on the floor, Cami. I know you’re standing there.”

To this, Cami could only respond with an accepting sigh of his own.

“Well…um…I suppose you do then.”

Maxus couldn’t help but shake his head. “Cami, look. I know what you’re going to ask, so before we end up-”

“Yes! Yes! I know Maxus, I know you don’t want me in there, but I just… I just really want you to understand that I am here for you whenever you need me, okay?”

Maxus tilted his head in slight confusion. “Cami, I was going to say yes.”

“Wah-huh?”

Maxus rolled his eyes and let out a slightly disappointed groan. “I’m ready to talk now, Cami. I just needed to let my emotions out first. Here, I’ll come over and-”

“Uh, no no no no no, that’s fine! You don’t need to get up! I can just..umm…just…one sec.”

Cami started abruptly rambling as he began to swiftly activate his size-shifter magic in order to shrink himself in size just enough to squeeze under the small crack in the door. It took a considerable effort and he had to make sure he hadn’t gotten any splinters or wood chips in his wings afterwards, but once he was sure he was chip-free, he swiftly flew over to Maxus on the bed and landed beside his hand, placing his comparatively tiny one upon Maxus’ giant one.

“Using that magic Zelda gave you, huh?”

“Hey, it's not my fault she didn’t know casting that shifter spell on you would affect me as well. Might as well make some use out of it.”

“Yeah, you have a point.”

Cami proceeded to fold up their hands as they lay cross legged upon the fresh white sheets of Maxus’ bed, staring intently up at the pained, mumbling giant as if expecting him to say or do something, the nature of which Maxus just could not figure out how to decipher.

“I’m sorry, what do you want me to do now?” he eventually ended up asking.

“...start telling me what happened, Maxus.” Cami slowly replied in a considerably awkward tone.

Maxus felt but a little bit embarrassed for that one, as in retrospect, that probably should’ve been quite obvious to him from the start. Regardless, after just simply shaking said feeling off a few seconds later, Maxus brought his hands up to his face, allowing them to trace their way down said area for a while, until they naturally ended up collapsing to his sides in a rather limp fashion. Letting out a *pffft* noise, Maxus began to do everything he possibly could in what few seconds he had to mentally prepare himself for what he was about to say.

“I really just do not understand Zelda sometimes. It's just..just because you can’t die in Fandom City, that doesn’t mean it's worthless to regulate criminals going in and out!”

Cami was slightly taken aback at what Maxus had just said. “Wait, did she like, actually say that, or-”

“No. That’s just how it translated back to me.”

Cami let out a humongous sigh of relief before continuing. “Ah. I see. Well…what did she actually say?”

“Well most of that stuff is classified, but the gist of what I can tell you is that she believes it to be impractical. Fandom City is huge, and, because it doesn’t have any official tax to speak of, the…well, I would say government, but it's really just Zelda in practicality, doesn’t always have the resources to do what would be best. In this case, it would be way too much money for such relatively miniscule effects to try to regulate who enters and exits Fandom City, because of the minimal effect it would actually have on what goes on in it. At least, that’s what she thinks anyway.”

“Wait a second, that stuff’s not classified? How in the hell is that stuff not classified?”

“Go to an online forum sometime, Cami. They discuss those kinds of ideas all the time in there. I know that, and she knows that. No reason for us to classify it when it's pretty much already public knowledge.”

“Well…more like public speculation really.”

“Let them speculate all they want. They don’t have any real power over what goes on around here. Only people like me and her do.” Maxus followed up that last sentence with a rather weary groan. “I just wish that sometimes our views weren’t so polar opposite! Like, despite its expense, lack of proper regulation is legitimately Fandom City’s largest problem right now, so it would only make sense to dump the majority of its allocated resources to fix it!” Maxus began to rant with a considerable air of genuineness in each and every single one of the words he was saying, as he turned away from Cami for a second, crossed his arms, and gave a slight pouting noise. “Not like my opinion even matters anyway. Zelda’s the queen, so she calls the shots. That’s just how it works here.” He grudgingly murmured out before his face almost instantly morphed into a look that expressed nothing but pure, undistilled exhaustion as he swiftly put a hand to his forehead. “God…”

Cami cocked his head to the side as he began thinking about what to do now. “Wow. Seems like being the I.A.C.I.’s Secretary Of State is taking a big toll on you.”

Maxus’ head drooped down but slightly. “Technically speaking, Cami, it isn’t required at all by my position that I do this. I’m only supposed to discuss Fandom City as it relates to the I.A.C.I. with Zelda, as I am the I.A.C.I.’s secretary of state. Anything else we talk about together is just extra. So, no, the job itself isn’t the problem here, it's just that…” Maxus began to tear up slightly as his words trailed off. He proceeded to forcefully ball up a fist. Quite forcefully, in fact. As if he were, for whatever possible reason, trying desperately to squeeze out all the blood from every single one of his fingers using nothing but each other. “I just hate it when I’m forced to stand by and watch people suffer, okay? It's happened before, you know that, and I promised myself that I would do everything in my power to ensure it never happened again! That’s…part of the reason I got involved with the government in the first place. And then here I go, off doing that exact thing, and what do I get from it? Condemnation from Zelda, that’s what. It's just…”

For all his knowledge and experience on public speaking, Secretary Of State Maxus Juno Echo found but this one sentence, this one, singular sentence in this one particular situation, quite frankly, impossible to finish.

Cami was only able to do so much to ease Maxus’ tears, not because of their current size, but just simply because the bureaucratic realm was completely and utterly foreign to them. Thus, the somewhat befuzzled catboy began thinking. They rhythmically tapped a finger upon their chin as they made a few barely audible “hmmm” noises. And that’s when it hit them. Maybe they couldn’t exactly say anything, that much was true, but what they could do, was do something. And what that something was, exactly, Cami already knew, if only by heart.

Cami, fully understanding that Maxus would never be able to refuse such an offer as this, confidently spread his wings and flew up to the somber, bedraggled man’s shoulder, landing softly upon his sweater. With absolutely zero hesitation in his being this time ‘round, Cami calmly spoke.

“So, um, Maxus, I think I know something that might help you to calm down.”

Maxus, who was, admittedly, quite desperate to find some way, any way, to cope with his current emotions, swiftly replied in an almost pleading manner with: “Please. Even if it's just a thought, it's literally a million times better than nothing.”

Cami, nodding in warm empathy, casually hopped off Maxus’ shoulder and flew up to his mouth, gently placing a paw upon his lips.

“Comfort food.”

Maxus did not even need to respond with words at this point. In that second, the single, split second after Cami had spoken those words… in that one miniscule, minute fragment of a second… all that was needed, the one thing that had to happen for mutual confirmation of consent for the actions both parties were about to take, was for Maxus to pull down his mask, and open up his maw just wide enough for Cami to be able to slip inside.

Nodding once before instantly diving into the warm, wet chamber in front of him, Cami could feel Maxus’ lips slowly closing in around his shoes as his wings flapped but the single time they needed to for all of the miniaturized catboy’s body to enter inside.

Slowly fluttering down to land upon the damp, squishy, dark blue tongue below him, Cami gracefully touched down on the great muscle’s middle, dispersing the rest of their body equally around the maw’s confines as such. Having a little extra room to stretch, Cami gently began to extend their four limbs and two wings for that exact purpose, releasing a bit of the tension formerly bound up in them with a yawn. They accidentally struck the back of a tooth with a shoe, but apologized immediately after, leaving Maxus with no reason to open his mouth and say anything about it. He only needed to nod instead.

With Cami so snugly balanced inside, Maxus slowly lowered down the roof of his maw, allowing his jaw muscles to release some of their own tension as he let in and out a deep breath through his nose, before all of a sudden, in a flash of the moment realization, he jolted forwards, though not enough to alert Cami, as the feathers upon the comfortable Catboy’s back began to stroke across the roof’s ridges just from the nature of the two being so close, causing the former to unleash a surprise tickling sensation upon the latter. As soon as Maxus realized this, he rose up the roof just slightly before softly shaking his head.

Cami began to give Maxus’ tongue a few gentle pats as the smooth, stretchy muscles of the cheek pouches began to brush up against his sides, which, when combined with the natural warmth in the maw, almost made him feel like he was lying in a giant, squishy sleeping bag. Maxus gently raised up the patted muscle as a result, causing Cami to slowly and carefully slide down the slick surface like a water slide until he was at last at the far back, mere centimeters away from the gullet. Maxus proceeded to fold over his tongue, bringing the upper half towards Cami, as the cozy catboy carefully stretched out his arms in order to receive its giant, dark blue form in a great, big hug. The tongue slowly and carefully winded around and stroked against Cami’s upper half as the now purring catboy kept a firm, light grasp on the middle section of the soft muscle.

Eventually though, Cami had to let go, as the lower half of the tongue, which they were still sitting upon, began to rise in order to help deliver Cami to the throat and continue on with the process for the both of them. With a quick nod and one final pat for the road, Cami turned around in the maw, dipped downwards slightly, and gently lodged themself within Maxus’ gullet, squirming around but slightly in order to make the position just a bit more comfortable.

Though Maxus on the outside knew Cami was meaning well, he was doing his very best not to instinctively cough them up due to the ever-ticklish nature of the feathers, most of which were stroking his upper esophageal sphincter, though a few of them at the back of the long, blue wings were brushing against his uvula as well. Deciding he should probably swallow sooner, rather than later, so that his body could at last get used to the sensation as Cami traveled down his throat, Maxus, fighting back a bit of natural hesitation, swallowed hard, causing the epiglottis to cover up his windpipe as Cami was squeezed into his throat, where the muscles could now begin to work automatically.

Letting out a gigantic deep breath before semi-aggressively flopping down onto the bed in an effort to relieve just a bit more of his stress, Maxus gently placed a few of his fingers upon the slight bulge that Cami was making in his throat as he went down, which was actually going considerably better than he thought it would. Apparently his body had already gotten over the tickling. Or maybe his gullet was just a lot more tickle-sensitive than the rest of his esophagus. Either way, now that he was relieved of that worry, there wasn’t really much else Maxus could do other than sit back, relax, and let his body handle the rest as the bulge at last disappeared behind his collarbone.

Cami on the inside, though there wasn’t that much room inside the tight yet stretchy area of the throat, began to slowly bring their arms up from their sides in order to eventually place them in front of them in a criss-crossed position, so that they may carefully lay their chin upon the resulting structure as they continued the journey on down.

Focusing in on the rhythmic squelching of the throat muscles upon their tiny body as they proceeded on with their job, Cami couldn’t help but let out a pleased “Mmmmm…” sound as a smile began to naturally form upon their face.

Eventually, the booming echo of Maxus’ heartbeat at last became audible, causing Cami’s ears to instinctively perk up. He knew this meant he was almost at his destination, and gave a slight nod of acknowledgement as such as he continued to ride along the dark blue vertically sloping tube that was Maxus’ esophagus.

Eventually, said ears proceeded to rotate forwards in order to hone in on the now-discernable gurgles and grumbles of the chamber below, before he was forced to return his arms back to their original positions at the sides, in order to make it easier for the lower esophageal sphincter to squeeze him on through. It took a while, and Cami was a bit worried for a split-second that he wouldn’t be able to shift them back before he reached the natural valve, but luckily, he managed, and Cami began to enter into Maxus’ stomach chamber nice and smoothly with no complications as such.

Plunging deep down into the harmless liquids below, Cami swiftly picked himself up out of the shallow pool and almost immediately began to force back the sudden rising urge to playfully shake himself dry, (even though that habit belongs more so to canines than felines.), if only to lightheartedly tease Maxus a little. But Cami knew that getting Maxus annoyed was the exact opposite of his goal here, and as such, he was forced to merely shelve the idea for later.

Wading around a bit in the almost water-like solution, Cami let out a contented sigh before leaning forward slightly and simply allowing the force of gravity to make them collapse face-first onto the soft, pillowy walls of Maxus’ stomach, purring softly as they rubbed their cheek upon the goopy, somewhat sticky substance lining the walls. Their hands joined in quite soon after that, sensually rubbing in circles upon the dark blue, churning walls.

Maxus could not help but feel just a little flustered once he was able to figure out what Cami was doing. Semi-awkwardly placing a hand behind his head as Cami kept going, Maxus eventually responded by giving the tiny catboy some external pats in return.

Once their arms were starting to get sore, and Cami reluctantly stopped rubbing, and the now rather contented catboy gleefully squished their head deeper into the smooth flexible walls as they began to simply sit back and take it all in. Casually allowing the walls to gently churn, and shift their position around slightly as such, Cami lay silently within the peaceful, soothing chamber, allowing their body to soak up all the natural warmth as the harmless pool below gently lapsed at their being. The semi-consistent ambiance of the organ’s many pitches and tones of rumbles and groans, against the great pounding of the baseline heartbeat, all worked together to make Cami’s purring grow louder as their body began to positively overflow with tranquility.

Though Maxus on the outside was still working through his emotions, Cami’s mere presence in his being, he had to admit, was perhaps the single best method of coping that he had at this time, and he honestly had zero clue what he would’ve done next if his furry little friend hadn’t stepped in to help him after his prior outburst.

As such, as he ever so cautiously shifted around in bed so that he could pull the blankets over him without disturbing Cami, Maxus eventually managed to get himself into a comfortable enough position where he could at least attempt to let his brain handle the events of the day through perhaps the safest medium it had: dreaming.

Tugging at the blankets slightly so that they weren’t dangling so far over the side of the bed, Maxus reached under the blanket with one hand in order to place it over his guts. Cami on the inside could feel the light wave of force riding its way through the bodily layers as his much larger friend patted upon the outside of the organ one last time.

Maxus at this point didn’t know at all how long he was going to be able to sleep for, but what he did know was that it was going to be, at the very, very least, something. And as he had previously stated, something, anything, was a million times better than nothing.

Giving a slight sigh of equal parts exhaustion, disheartenment, and comfort, Maxus could only manage to mumble out a barely audible. “Thank you, Cami.” before closing his eyes as his attempt to catch at least a few hours of good sleep began at last.

Cami on the inside, though Maxus obviously couldn’t see it, began to positively beam with “Oh, you’re welcome! It's no problem! I’m just glad I could help!” energy as he let out a couple soft chuckles. Giving one final pat from the inside to let Maxus know he heard him, both comforter and comforted at last began to close their eyes, both with the same intention of rest. One drifted off with nothing but an odd sense of tainted memories combing with a slight resurgence of hope in order to viciously collide together within his being, while the other, of course, the one who mentioned the idea in the first place, began lightly dozing with both the same sense of hope his giant friend on the outside was wrangling with, but also, uniquely to him, a sense of contentment, for he knew what he needed to do, and nothing made him more giddily gleeful as the moments when what he knew turned into what he did.

As such, the two people lying silently within that room, though they knew there was still a long way ahead, could sleep peacefully for the moment knowing that this time, the battle was theirs.

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createandconstruct · 3 years ago

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can i ask about amarant coral? the monk in red himself~

Can you ask about Amarant Coral? *cracks fingers* Oh I insist that you do. Welcome to my Amarant Appreciation Post:

favorite thing about them: First off best thing about Amarant? His theme. The percussion and the guitar. It’s great and it captures him so well. People out here like “take Amarant out of the game he adds nothing.” EXCUSE ME? You remove the Amarant you remove the Amarant Theme my friend and that is something I do NOT vibe with.

least favorite thing about them: I wanna know more about him. Now Amarant doesn’t need a backstory or history in the game. In a sense, he already has one that connects him to Zidane and explains his motives and actions and eventual arc. But my issue is, Square never gave him anything else. If you look at Ultimania there’s additional lore about other characters, like Steiner for instance. You learn Steiner was a war orphan who was saved by the Pluto Knights - explaining his devotion to them. Amarant though? Square was like “uh... yeah he was born....? And then he uh got famous...? Idk then he met Zidane. You figure it out.” Square. I hate you. 18 years from his birth until he became “well known”. WHAT WAS HE DOING. WHY’D HE BECOME A SECURITY GUARD. WHAT WAS ON HIS RESUME. TELL MEEEE. Like, okay, what the actual in-game canon gives us on Amarant is sort of enough. He’s a purposely written mysterious “cool-guy” character so we’re given scraps to make him unknown but come on. In the published after-game canon, like Ultimania, we could have been given a bit more. He says he doesn’t remember anything about his origins or parents, but why. Was he another victim of Gaia’s wars? Probably. Was he born on a battlefield? Fighting for his life, living without comrades, taking scraps whenever he could? Was he betrayed when he was young? Is he a supposed to be a version of Zidane had he not been adopted into Tantalus by Baku??? These are questions I deserve answers to, Square.

favorite line: “’I can't just walk away. It goes against my nature...’ You're a real simpleton. Forget it, guys. There's no stopping this fool." I love this. Amarant figures Zidane out pretty quickly after Ipsen’s Castle. Zidane is hardheaded and also an actor. He acts cool and pretends his reasons for doing things are loose but when he’s decided something it’s always for a reason. You don’t need a reason to help people, but Zidane has his reasons for helping Kuja and while Amarant doesn’t give two shits what they are he knows Zidane won’t be stopped because, despite everything, Zidane saved a loser like him. Also this line “Tell me! Why didn't you kill me!?" Because I quote it all the time and it makes myself laugh. Amarant is such a drama queen and Zidane knows it. Zidane’s like “dude... what is your damage, it’s 5 pm on Tuesday in Madain Sari. I ain’t getting blood on my gloves cause you’re having a temper tantrum.” And then Amarant runs away to have an existential crisis. He’s 26 but compared to Zidane, he’s the real teenager with angst.

brOTP: I could talk about Zidane or Freya with Amarant but instead I’m gonna say the underrated dynamic of Amarant and Eiko (and also Vivi). Amarant with the kids is truly the greatest gift given by his presence in the game. Amarant has never known true suffering until he became a designated legal guardian of a group of minors. It also kills me how he’s the one to volunteer to carry Eiko and Vivi up the Iifa tree. He looks at Zidane and is like “you have seriously been the ‘adult’ of this group???”

OTP: Gotta say the Freya and Amarant dynamic. I really enjoyed their unlikely friendship in the game but then the content. The fan content. The Freya x Amarant fans out there, you win. Ya got me. You captured me and I am now imprisoned by their banter and begruntled allies to lovers story. Even if they’re not romantic I love them together and really wish the game gave us more of them. But even Lani and Amarant together are valid, though I prefer them as butting head bros. Not much content for my girl Lani out there either, she deserves more.

nOTP: Nothing I can think of. I tend to like platonic pairings for Amarant. The dude needs friends because he can barely define the word friendship.

random headcanon: Before Zidane returns at the end of the game Amarant wanders around a bit, unsure of what to do. He doesn’t feel any place with the others in Alexandria, Burmecia, or Lindblum. I imagine he goes off on his own for a bit like before but this time he’s not after Zidane or a fight. Instead he’s got no particular destination. Yet he somehow always finds himself running into people just like him - or the old him - friendless lonely people who are looking for a fight. He doesn’t go out his way to find these folks he simply runs into them and decides he might as well knock some sense into them. He does however make it his business to go after any murmur of people hatching any ideas of going after the far off little village on the Lost Continent. The home of the genomes and black mages. They were so helpless, so weak that anyone who’d want to mess with them is pathetic in Amarant’s book. Until Zidane returns, no one has the chance to even look at the Black Mage Village the wrong way because in the shadows Amarant lurks, making damn well sure of that.

unpopular opinion: I kinda love that he’s just there for most of the game? While I agree he gets the short end of the stick in the same way as Freya, not receiving additional individual character spotlight (which could have very well been supplied through discoverable lore in the world/npcs or through sidequests) I never considered his “standing off to the side” as a detriment to his character.

Many would probably agree that Amarant always felt like a bit of a parody of the loner character, or at least the stereotype of the loner character. Amarant is so easily paralleled with Squall and Cloud’s surface-level attitudes because his dialogue always felt like something to poke fun at. As the player we’re supposed to align with Zidane’s way of thinking and how he views Amarant. When Amarant loses to Zidane and pretty much grits his teeth and goes “KILL ME,” along with Zidane we’re supposed to kinda raise our brow at him and go “...really, dude?”

Amarant’s a character introduced as an antagonist who has more in common with the power hungry villains of the game. Like many of the characters in FFIX, Amarant is in search of purpose in life, which he has never found, because he was always looking in the wrong places - in places of violence and power. Very toxic-masculinity of him. Amarant is “cool” on an aesthetic level but in reality he’s the polar opposite of cool in terms of what FFIX states about the need for others to be intertwined in your experiences so that you can live a full life.

I sort of love that he’s like a grumpy pitball following a 16 year old and his friends around. Then he sits in the corner when they all meet up and discuss current events acting like he doesn’t care (not to mention he casually walks as everyone is running as fast as they can to escape Terra - made me laugh cry on my first playthrough) He is “just there” but that’s because he has no where else to be, no where else to go, he’s a man without a home. And until Zidane offers his hand, at the point where Amarant is most willing to take it at Ipsen’s Castle, he’s not truly a party member. He IS an outsider for almost the entire game but at Ipsen Castle he joins the party, becomes a comrade, and decides he’ll allow himself to change paths and start a life where he has friends and lives, as well as fights for them. Which is why after that moment, Amarant finally has a victory pose.

song i associate with them: I was scratching my head for so long trying to think of a song or track that had Amarant vibes until it hit me. Outskirt Stand by Tsukasa Tawada (from Pokemon Colosseum). Amarant is so chill, he’s not a bombastic guy, so he needs a theme that drops me in the rocky open desert of the Lost Continent like I’m just lumbering around looking for a monkey-tailed menace. Some other Amarant tunes: Pyrite Town, The Under, Snagem Hideout tracks from Pokemon Colosseum. This post is just an elaborate call to action for everyone to listen to the Pokemon Colosseum soundtrack. Tsukasa Tawada is so great and he has a YouTube. Check him out.

favorite picture of them:

Yoshitaka Amano’s Salamander Coral. I love him. He had too much power.

Also everything drawn by @crispy-ghee. Everything. I will think of this Comic forever until I die. Tattoo it on my flesh. The banter, the dynamics, the post-game content, the Zidane prince-consort outfit, the new Amarant outfit, the stuck-in-the-same-place relationship him and Freya have. Perfect. Go read it and consume Crisipy’s stuff. And also check them and their current art out, they just consistently get better and better. Here’s a first panel preview of my fav comic. Read it.

@hannahlady‘s Amarant art and their Freya/Amarant art is just ugh. *Chef’s Kiss* Here is another preview because you should go look at it.

Here’s a piece that deserves so much more love by @snackage. I LOVE how they drew Amarant. Here’s a little preview. It’s SO GOOD

Anyway TL;DR: Amarant is love and life and you’ll have to pull him from my little gremlin hands.

#asks #scriberat #amarant coral #ffix #final fantasy ix #amarant #final fantasy 9 #freya #amarant x freya #lani #zidane tribal #eiko carol

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outofsstyles · 5 years ago

Text

WILDEST DREAMS

a/n: soo I’ve been working on this for a little while now and I’m very excited to share it with you al!! This piece is inspired by Taylor Swift’s music video for her song Wildest Dreams. If you’ve never seen the video, or don’t remember it really well, I recommend you watch it *after* reading the story so you don’t get it spoiled! If you’re interested then you can watch it by clicking *right here!!*

Word count: 17.2k Rated: M, mature

You agree to help your friend on her film project and Harry is playing your love interest.

“You’ve been frowning a lot and haven’t said a single word in the past five minutes, what’s wrong?” You looked up to your quiet roommate sitting opposite to where you stood near the kitchen counter.

A playlist you both had made months ago, meant only for cooking days, as Nia had instructed, played faintly in the background. You hummed along to the melody of a song you didn’t really know the name of, but had listened to it enough to mumble the lyrics, as you focused on cutting banana slices.

Nia was the one who brought up trying out a new fruit smoothie recipe she had found while scrolling around on Pinterest. She was pretty excited after coming home with the groceries, ready to start the process. Which is why seeing her sitting quietly as she glared at her phone was a big sign that something was wrong.

“I think Jordan is about to pull out on us,” she groaned loudly, locking her phone and throwing it on the counter, running her hands on her face, “I can’t believe this is happening a week before filming starts.”

“Oh, that’s not good news” you said, looking back at your friend’s defeated state in front of you as you threw the banana slices into the blender. “What happened?”

“He said he decided to go with his cousin to Ibiza.” Her arms muffled her voice as she lied on top of them, sighing once again, “this is the third one that leaves, I might as well just cancel the entire thing and fail this class.”

You rolled your eyes lightly at her, shaking your head as you listened to her dramatic reactions. Being her friend for as long as you have, you knew how stressed Nia got with a project, specially something she was passionate about. She was always too hard on herself, trying to push everything to be as perfect as possible, which is a good thing when you focused on the ultimate results. But she often tended to over-stress herself, and that’s what makes you worry.

With this one in particular, you could tell how excited she was from the day her teacher assigned it. She came back home and rambled for hours on end about making her first film. Which is why when she begged you to be part of it, and you couldn’t find it in your heart to say no.

It was a small production after all, it just being Nia and her partner Evan, whom you have known had gotten close to her in the past months. She assured it would a rather simple concept, with only two characters. The trickiest part being the fact that they would film it out of town, in a camp house that belonged to Nia’s aunt. You had agreed to it to make her happy, and with her promise of buying you chocolate muffins. Most uni students, however, didn’t seem as keen to sacrifice a week of their spring break as you were.

“You’re being dramatic Nia,” you reassured, turning on the blender and cringing at the loud noise that took over the place. “Maybe they just read on the script that they would have to kiss me a couple of times and got too nervous about it,” you tried to humor, raising your voice a bit before turning the processor off. Nia looked back at you with a serious expression, making you scoff, “calm down, grumpy pants, I’m sure Evan knows someone who can do the role, stop worrying.”

“All I do is worry, you know that,” she sighed, standing up to walk towards the cabinets behind you. She selected two matching cups that she had gotten for your birthday, one had Elsa printed on it, and the other Anna. You smiled as she placed them on the counter, knowing you always thought matching friendship objects were silly, but Nia loved it, so you loved it too. She looked vaguely at the blender, letting her shoulder weight down. “At least we have a banana smoothie.”

“And something else!” You said, jumping on your feet to get to the fridge and retrieved a tupperware. You held it in her direction and smiled, “leftover spaghetti from Joe’s!” you exclaimed, attempting to brighten her mood. She looked back at you, grabbing the container from your hands, as she tried to fight back a smile.

“Yes, how could I forget the leftover spaghetti?”

As the days passed by, the both of you had gotten more stressed out. Nia was still worried about everything related to her film project. With the days passing by and no one to fill the other role on the script, she found herself on a daily cycle of stress breakdowns.

Just two days after your former cast partner dropped out on the project to spend his week on the busy beaches of Ibiza, she had bought three different boxes of hair dyes. And as you helped her turn her hair into a light shade of pink, she cried about how everything seemed to go wrong in her life.

Meanwhile, you had been struggling to fight your procrastination tendencies and try to finish as much work as possible before spring break. A task that was showing itself to be extremely difficult, considering your mind seemed more focused on binge watching true crime shows on YouTube.

The blank document stared back at you from your computer screen, as you wished that if you looked at it for long enough, the essay would somehow write itself. Writing a couple of words but soon deleting them and going back to an empty page, you signed. Why was it so difficult to introduce a topic? You took a sip of the hot drink on the sparkly Cinderella mug you had chosen for the day, another one of Nia’s Disney-related possessions.

You frowned at the blank document, your failure to write a single paragraph still open in front of you. You heard a light knock on your bedroom door, but before you could even say anything, you spotted the already fading pink hair coming into the room.

Nia walked in jumping excitedly, saying your name in little squeals and almost tripping down as she made her way to sit on your bed in front of you. Breathing out, she looked at you with a big smile and messy hair before blurting out.

“We’ve got you a husband!” you stared back at her, arching your eyebrows. You knew she was referring to the role on the film, but you still laughed off at her choice of phrasing. “Evan got someone, it’s like his old friend or something, said he trusts him not to drop out.”

“Well, fourth time’s a charm, I guess?” you smiled at her.

“We’re planning a pizza night this Friday, so we can, you know, set the details and all that.” She properly lied down next to you, playing with the strings on the hem of your pajama shorts. “Also so you two can meet each other, of course, you’re going to be married for a week after all.”

“The way you say it seems like we’re actually doing it,” You laughed, finally closing your computer, and moving down to face her. “We’re just playing characters, Nia.”

“I know, I know… You’re really no fun, aren’t you?” She moved her arm up to support her head and poked you with her free hand as you rolled your eyes at her. “Also, he seems pretty cute, Evan showed me his picture, maybe you two can hit off.”

“I’m sure he is,” you tried not to fall for her attempt on teasing you over someone you don’t even know. Sure, you’ll be playing love interests, but you’ve done this plenty of times before, back on your theatre days. Kissing someone on stage doesn’t mean you have feelings for them in real life, and you knew that pretty well. You sighed, looking down at her, not wanting to engage into this kind of topic.

“Anyway, should we celebrate your new cast member and my inability to write a single sentence about art history?” you changed the subject, trying to distract yourself from your own thoughts. “We could watch Devil Wears Prada and make caramel popcorn.”

Nia gasped dramatically, “these are the most beautiful words I’ve ever heard coming from those pretty lips of yours,” jumping to her feet as she pulled you to stand with her. She then ran out of the room, screaming back, “I’ll get the blankets and you start with the popcorn!”

It’s been years since you’ve known Nia, but yet the dynamic between the two of you has never really changed. You’ve always considered yourself very lucky for having a friend like her in your life. From the day you met her in your English class, it was like seeing someone you had already known your entire life; it was always that easy to be with her.

You two became inseparable from day one.

Looking back, it’s crazy for you to realize how well your high school plans with each other had turned out. Most people you know had those friends in school they only really talked to because they saw them five times a week. But as soon as graduation came by they parted their ways and became only good nostalgic memories for one another. With the two of you, everything just worked out.

You both got into the university you wanted, ready to get matching art degrees. On your second year of college, you moved in together. And halfway through the course, Nia just dropped out to enroll on an eighteen months film school. And that’s when she met Nate.

You always knew she was destined to be that kind of person who just has one great love in her life. Which was funny considering that anyone who spent over five minutes with her and Nate in the same room could swear they would never work together. They just were those kinds of couples who are the polar opposite of each other.

Nia was a little social butterfly, who could start a conversation with anyone about anything. She could talk for hours with the old ladies at the grocery store about how the new brands of beans are just not as good as the ones not as well known. Or chat with the yoga moms about a new reality show that had premiered on Netflix. She loved experimenting on new things, trying out new recipes or mix distinct colors together on her clothes.

Nate, on the other hand, just wasn’t much of a talker at all. Since the start of their relationship, he often stops by at your apartment -wearing a different shade of grey every time - but it would be a lot to say that you two have had a conversation for longer than five minutes. He just mostly kept it to himself.

They balanced each other, which is why they worked so well.

It would be a lie for you to say you didn’t think about having something like that for you. You thought maybe you just weren’t the kind of person to have one meaningful relationship in your life. And that was okay. You’d like to think you’re better off on your own, anyway. But now and then you wondered how it would be to fall asleep in someone’s arms every day.

But you tried your best to keep those thoughts locked away in the back of your head. You knew that for the most part love is not really meant to last, Nia was just part of the lucky few.

The atmosphere in your shared apartment was cozy, as you waited for Evan and his friend to arrive before you started the pizza hangout, as Nia called it.

You both had spent the day tidying up the place, trying to decorate it a bit with some fairy lights and nice pillows you found in your room. It had been a long time since you had done any kind of social gathering in your home, and Nia wanted everything to be perfect. She even insisted on making the pizzas herself, which took most part of the afternoon, and a lot of bossing around on her part.

By the time the food was in the oven and the only thing left to do was wait, her boyfriend joined the two of you.

She was very talkative and bubbly, as she usually is, getting the wine bottles she selected for the evening and placing them on the counter as she chatted with him. It was nice seeing her back do being her usual self after such a stressful week.

You got the right amount of glasses, placing them next to the bottles, as you hummed along to the Declan Mckenna’s voice playing in the background. You weren’t really paying attention to Nia’s babbles, catching a word or two as she rambled about some dolphin documentary she had to watch for one of her classes. Pouring out a glass for yourself, you looked over to Nate who had a puzzled look on his face, as he tried to make sense of whatever rant his girlfriend had going on. You took a sip of your wine, and laughed lightly at yourself at the contrast between the two of them, something you had always found very amusing to observe. But before you could go further into your thoughts, the sound of the buzzer took over the small apartment.

“They’re here!” Nia gushed, as she quickly made her way out of the kitchen to get the front door, yelling back at you to get the pizzas out of the oven.

“Yes, ma’am,” you teased after she left, earning a light chuckle from Nate.

Making your way around the kitchen, you took out kitchen gloves that had figures of little chicks printed on them, giving one last check inside the oven to make sure everything was ready, before opening it and taking out the food. You could hear Nia greeting Evan excitedly in the background, as she rushed him and his friend to come inside. As their voices got closer, you turned your back to the entrance, concentrating on not burning yourself while you placed both pizzas on top of the counter.

“There’s our star!” You heard Evan’s loud voice taking over the kitchen space, making you look over your shoulder and laugh at him.

You turned around while taking off the gloves, as he pulled you into a tight hug, the strong scent of his cologne invading your nostrils. He wasn’t much taller than you, making him being considered short for a man. But his presence in a room was always so loud and bright that he seem much bigger than he actually is. You pulled back and looked at him, suddenly feeling underdressed in your own home. His entire outfit was bright red, being consisted of a jean jacket and silk pants, his eyes matching with vibrant eyeshadow taking over his whole eyelids.

“It’s very nice to see you again Evan,” you smiled at him, his hands still holding onto your shoulders as he looked warmly at you. “It’s been too long! You look fabulous!”

“Oh honey, you flatter me too much! It’s why I love coming here,” he scoffed playfully, coming to your side and wrapping one arm over your shoulder as he guided you. “But tonight is not about me, unfortunately. It’s about the two of you.”

As you finally moved your attention to the kitchen entrance, you realized another presence standing there. A man, who you assumed was Evan’s friend, already smirking down at you as both of you approached him.

You suddenly felt nervous under his stare while you could hear Evan commenting on something you didn’t really pay attention to. You had been taken completely by surprise by the man standing in front of you. Sure, Nia had mentioned to you once or twice that he was good looking, but you were not expecting this.

It was a weird feeling, being this affected by someone you had just met, but you would have to be blind not to notice. His face was beautiful, a sharp jawline contrasting his soft skin, his fingers poked at his bottom lip as he smirked, you could notice the hint of a dimple forming on his cheek. His hair was short, but still long enough to see the shape of slight curls forming in it, some locks falling charmingly against his forehead. But what hit you the most were his eyes, thanks to the dim lighting you couldn’t really tell if they were a shade of forest green or more of a hazel tone, but you could feel your cheeks warming up from the way he watched you as you got closer.

His shoulders were broad, as he was leaning against the entrance, the hand that wasn’t poking at his lip resting inside the pocket of his brown pair of trousers. He wore a blank white shirt, partly tucked in, underneath a beige cardigan. The sleeves had been rolled up to his elbows, making you notice the tattoos hugging the skin of his arms. You felt a curious wish to know how many more you could find under all the layers of clothing..

As you and Evan got closer, he moved from his leaning position to stand tall in front of you. The smile never leaving his lips, and his eyes still watching you closely.

“So, darling, meet Harry,” Evan spoke up, gesturing you towards his friend. “He’s a pest, but I’m sure you’ll get along just fine”

“Way to give a first impression, E,” Harry rolled his eyes at his friend’s teasing, before turning his attention back to you. He moved closer, embracing you into a side hug “S lovely to meet you-”

You quickly cleared your throat, afraid that your voice would give you away, before saying your name. The attempt didn’t really seem to work, as your words came out higher than you had intended. You could feel Nia’s gaze turning to you on the corner of your eye, but tried your best to ignore it. He repeated it, before shooting a smile in your direction, the sound of his deep voice and the way his lips circled around the words making the hairs behind your neck rise.

“Okay! So how about we move this party to the living room?” Nia’s voice broke into the atmosphere. “Everyone can get their wine glasses and make themselves comfortable while y/n and I finish arranging the pizzas.”

She shot you a knowing look, before moving to get the wine bottles and handing them to Nate. Everyone shifted to get their glasses and settle in the other room, leaving you and Nia alone.

You moved to get the knives and looked at the pizzas standing on the counter in front of you, calculating how you could cut out even slices on each. You could see your friend from the corner of your eye leaning on the counter staring directly at you.

“You know you can’t fool me even for a second, miss,” she teased, you could hear the smirk on her voice.

“I’m not doing anything,” you murmured, still not looking in her direction. She scoffed, elbowing you lightly as she mimicked you, saying your name in a high-pitched voice. You shot her a dirty look before shushing her, afraid the guest in the other room could hear her teasing. “I didn’t sound like that!”

“Oh please! You should have seen how you looked at him!” She rolled her eyes at you, “thought you were gonna drop down on your knees right then and there!”

“Nia!” you screamed in a whisper, your cheeks warming up at her words as you pinched her, making her squeal. You quickly shot a look at the entrance to see if anyone might’ve heard her, but they seemed to be enrolled in their own conversation. “Let’s just get this done quickly before they suspect we’re in here for too long.”

“Okay, cheeky girl,” she bit her lip and moved to get a knife to cut one pizza, but still eyeing you with a slight smile, leaning in one last time, “but I told you he was cute.”

Eventually, the two of you finished sorting out the pizza slices and joined everyone in the living room. Nia then rushed to join her boyfriend on the loveseat, leaving the only spot available for you being between Harry and Evan on the couch. She shot you a teasing smile, but you tried your best to ignore it and focus on finishing the wine glass you had poured for yourself earlier.

“Okay, so I’m going to need everyone to eat the food and tell me how good it is,” Nia pointed out to the center table where the pieces of pizza laid upon, “I’ve spent the entire afternoon on these babies, so eat up!”

“You know that I’ve helped you with them, right?” you added, squinting your eyes at her, “some credit wouldn’t hurt.”

“You only laid the toppings on the dough so they would look even,” she snapped back pointing a finger at you, “I did all the hard work, so shush it.”

But before anyone could move to get a slice, Evan was already stretching out his arms to stop you from moving. “Wait a second,” he spoke, “I feel like I’ve watched enough seasons of MasterChef to be the first one to judge.”

“I mean, you are the best critic I know,” Nia pointed, leaning in to get a slice and offering to Evan, “but again, I don’t really know any other critics.” She humored as he took the food, making a show of analyzing it.

Everyone waited expectantly as Evan bit into the pizza slice, keeping a straight face that didn’t reveal much of his opinions. Nia leaned in his direction, nervously biting her bottom lip as she waited for his final verdict.

“You have to be honest,” she warned, observing him, “but know that I can get my feelings hurt pretty easily.”

“I don’t mind that,” Evan finally said, straightening his posture as he looked back to Nia’s waiting eyes, “I’ll say that it’s not the best pizza I’ve ever had,” he announced, “but it works.”

“You know what, I take it,” everyone laughed lightly as Nia visibly released a breath she had been holding in, “It’s not a bad review for a first time.”

The hours went by quickly as you eased into a conversation with everyone. It was nights like this you missed the most when the stress of all the accumulative work weighted on your shoulders. Having a more of a cool night to hangout with a few friends, drinking some wine and chatting about whatever topic came to mind.

As time passed, you could tell Nia and Evan got more agitated, probably due to the amount of wine they had consumed without even realizing. They chatted excitingly about Midsommar, their voices raising a bit too loud. But every time you tried to shush them, jokingly reminding of the neighbors next door, they would soon forget about it again. You watched them babble, giggling when they would get excited on a certain topic and start to trip over a few words.

You also felt lighter because of the alcohol, not as much as them, but still enough so you could feel your chest warmer and your mind a bit dizzy. You still felt an annoying tingle at the pit of your stomach when you felt Harry’s eyes fixating on you when you spoke, or when your hands brushed as you reached for the bottle at the center table. It was silly, and it made you feel like a teenager being in the presence of an attractive boy for the first time.

When it all quiet down eventually, Nia had dragged Evan to her room so he could give an insight on how she could decorate it. It was something she would do now and then, give her room a big renovation so the change in the space could make her more motivated, or something like that. Sometimes, if she felt inspired enough, she would change around the living area or even your own room - when you allowed her, of course.

Nate was still sitting on the loveseat looking like he was about to fall asleep at any moment as he scrolled through his phone. He hadn’t spoken a lot during the night, which wasn’t unusual for him, but he still managed to chat for a bit.

That left you and Harry alone sitting on the main couch, with one person less it left you enough space to cross your legs, making yourself more comfortable. He was sitting on his side, his back resting on the big pillows by the arm of the couch, his chest turned towards you.

You reached for the wine bottle at the center table, realizing there was just a bit left, enough for a last glass for the two of you. “Wanna help me finish it?” You turned to him with the bottle in your hand. He had a smile resting on his lips, as he raised his glass toward you so you could pour the liquid into it. You could tell his eyes were a bit cloudy, but you knew none of you had had enough to be drunk.

“Thank you, love,” he said, the raspiness on his voice as he spoke the pet name making the hairs in the back of your neck rise. You poured yourself the rest of the wine left, emptying the bottle as you settled it back where you got it. “Should we make a toast?”

“Sure,” you replied easily, smiling at him, “what should we toast for?”

He looked away, puckering his lips slightly as he made a puzzled expression, a hand scratching at his chin as if in deep thought. You giggled at his dramatics before he pointed his finger up, his face turning into a big smile. He raised his glass in your direction, as you did the same. “A toast for being husband and wife?”

You chuckled, clinking your glasses together, “that’s fair,” you said, “ ‘s why we’re here after all, isn’t it?” you joked, taking a sip of your drink before settling it down on your lap.

“Sure is,” he mimicked, rising his glass to his lips, a smirk still adorning them as he managed to not break eye contact. He took a small sip before settling his glass back on the table. He scratched the tip of his nose slightly with the side of his finger, before he relaxed back on the couch. “So” he spoke up, bringing your attention to him, “E told me you’re an actual actress,” he raised his eyebrows at you, “made me a bit nervous, love.”

“That right there is a lie,” you chuckled, biting your lip and shaking your head. “I used to do theatre back in the day, haven’t done any acting for years though.”

“A theatre kid, huh?” He laughed as you rolled your eyes jokingly.

“I’m aware we have a poor reputation, yes,” you said, “I reckon we deserve it, but we weren’t that bad, I promise.”

He giggled, making your heart skip a beat at the sound. His smile was something you could easily get used to, the way it formed crinkles in his eyes and the dimples deep on his cheeks. You had to stop yourself for staring too much, moving your gaze to the glass on your lap.

“People are too harsh on theatre kids,” he reassured, “I think it seems pretty fun — only time I did it was when I played Elvis when I was about five, I think.” He added, resting his arm against the couch, his hand just a few inches away from your shoulders. “Had the time o’my life though.”

“You got main character though, that’s impressive,” you expressed, raising a hand to poke at his side playfully. “Have you done anything since your big debut as the king?”

“Can’t say I have, no,” he chuckled, “guess this is my big comeback, maybe I’ll get a call from broadway soon.”

“I’m sure you will!” You giggled, taking another sip from the glass in your hand.

You found it easy to dive into a conversation with him. You were both giggly from the wine, but it still seemed like you could stay like this for hours on end, just talking to each other.

He told you he wasn’t planning on doing the film, considering he never really thought about acting. But when Evan asked him if he could be part of it, he saw how desperate he was to fill the role, so he agreed. It warmed your heart to hear how fondly he spoke about his friend, telling you how willing he was to help, even if it involved doing something out of his comfort zone.

You two bounded over your mutual wish to become teachers. You found out he was studying Literature, a choice that for him as an easy one, considering throughout his life he had always been an avid reader. He said no matter how harsh thing got, he always found an escape between books, you could tell how passionate he was about it as he spoke about his favorite reads.

Eventually, you could hear voices coming closer from Nia’s room, as they seemed to be gushing about the filming that was starting soon.

As Evan came into the room, he made his way to the couch, placing his hand on Harry’s shoulders. “Honey, as much as I wish we could stay here ‘til dawn, I’m afraid we must get going.”

With his declaration, everyone moved around to gather the dishes splattered across the center table to put it all at the kitchen counter. After some insisting -mostly on Harry’s part- on helping with cleaning, you convinced them you two could handle the task just fine. And they were the guests, after all.

Finally, you said your goodbyes, pulling Evan on a small hug, assuring him you’d do your best to do his script justice.

And as you came to face Harry, he leaned into a hug, giving you a last kiss on the cheek, before telling you how lovely it had been to meet you.

You had woken up with your door opening abruptly, making you jump a bit from the sudden change in the peaceful atmosphere from your deep slumber. Before you could process the situation in hand, Nia was already pulling out the covers and spitting out words at a faster pace than you could comprehend in your mind state.

“Get up already! We are very late,” She urged as you lazily scratched at your eyes before sitting up to look at her. “Evan is going to kill us!” She cried out.

Your head pounded slightly, making you search for your water bottle previously prompted by yourself the night before, knowing you would need it in the morning. You reached for it in your nightstand, taking big gulps as you watched amusingly Nia run around your room picking random clothes and throwing it in a duffel bag you had just noticed.

Resting the bottle down on your lap, you yawned lightly, still in the process of waking up. “Calm down Ni,” you mumbled, “We still have time, we’re only leaving at like, two.”

She looked back at you as if you had just slapped her across the face, your shirt falling partly from her hand. “It’s already one,” she informed, making your eyes bulge as you reached to check on your phone, confirming as it read 1:16pm. “We don’t even have our bags packed AND we got a sink full of dishes to wash.”

The minutes after that were rushed, as you two did your best to get ready as fast as possible. Mentally slapping yourself for leaving everything for the last minute, but still managing to pack your bag in record speed.

But as time passed and the list of things to do was still far from over, Nia phoned Evan and let him know you would need a few more hours to be ready to leave. To say he wasn’t the happiest about the news was an understanding, but there wasn’t much he could do about it.

A couple hours later you were finally packed, and after a quick stop to shop for road trip snacks you were off on the road.

You left much later than planned, and even if it wasn’t that much of a long drive, it was still 3 hours until you got there. The ride itself was mostly quiet, except from Lorde’s Melodrama playing softly in the background. You hummed along to the words, but apart from that there wasn’t a lot of talking between the two of you, all due to the limited amount of sleep you got from the previous night.

As you got closer, the scenery of open grass camps and blooming flowers at the peak of spring was a peaceful change of scene from the busy city streets you were used to. And when you finally got to the house, the sun was almost setting on the horizon. The sky being a satisfying mixture of blue and orange. There was a car already parked in, and as you got closer, you could see two figures sitting on the front stairs.

Getting out of the car, you quickly made your way to where they stood. “Have you been waiting long?” Nia asked as you got closer to them.

“Longer than I was planning to, I’ll say that,” Evan replied, taking off his sunglasses to greet you.

Harry came up from behind him, looking incredibly cozy wearing a knitted cream sweater. It took everything in you not to nuzzle on him as he met you with a quick embrace. You had to focus on keeping your breathing steady as you looked up at him when you parted. The sun coming from behind you doing wonders as it hit his face perfectly. His eyes were the prettiest shade of green as he smiled down at you before moving to greet Nia.

“We’ve been here fo’ ten minutes, don’t listen to him,” he assured with a small laugh.

The house itself was much bigger than you expected, it wasn’t huge, by any means, but you had pictured a small cottage with barely any space for the four of you. The place, however, was big enough for you to have your privacy but still small enough to feel cozy and welcoming.

You quickly found there were three rooms, and despite you arguing you didn’t mind sharing one with Nia, considering you two lived together, she still insisted that you and Harry had your own bedrooms. It was her way of thanking you for agreeing to help them.

After you got established in your respective room, you met everyone down at the kitchen. The place was loud with chatter as they played around while making dinner. Nia seemed to boss the boys around to cut the vegetables properly, as she concentrated on figuring out how to work the old stove. They laughed lightly as she cussed under her breath in frustration after another failed attempt. You watched quietly for a moment, before joining in to help her.

You finally turned the stove on with the help of a few matches you found laying on the counter, being able to cook with no more trouble. It was already getting late when you finished eating and gathered the dishes to lay them on the sink. Still, Nia insisted on watching one of the movies she had carefully selected on her extended collections of DvDs to bring with her.

You decided to make yourself some tea while the rest of them moved around to arrange themselves for the movie night. After offering if anyone else wanted a cup as well, you were met with Harry’s warm smile as he accepted shyly.

Soon enough everyone settled down on the big couch to watch the movie. Evan took his place on one of the armchairs, while Harry opted to sit by the end of the couch, setting his legs on the footrest in front of him. As you walked in with your mugs, he gazed up at you, shooting a soft smile and muttering a quick ‘thank you’ as you handed him his drink.

He patted the spot next to him, indicating for you to sit, to which you happily obliged.

“Wanna share?” he asked, holding up a blanket that lied at the arm of the couch. “There’s jus’ three of ‘em.”

“Sure,” you replied, moving to pull the blanket, so it was covering the two of you. You knew very well you could always get an extra one from one of the bedrooms, but you would never bring yourself to suggest it.

Finally, Nia entered the room with a small pack of m&m’s on one of her hands and the DvD case for ‘Love Actually’ on the other. She was quick to insert it on the player before settling down next to you. Pulling out the leftover blanket for herself, she lied down to rest her head comfortably on top of your legs.

It didn’t take long until she fell in deep slumber, cuddling up on your lap as soft snores left her lips. You pouted slightly down at her. The poor thing was exhausted from driving all the way, and the bad night of sleep the day before.

As the movie progressed, you could feel your eyelids getting heavier as well, the words coming from Keira Knightley’s mouth becoming more of a background noise as you fought to keep yourself awake. But before you could doze off, you felt Harry shifting slightly next to you. Suddenly feeling his arm hugging your shoulders, as he gently pulled you closer.

You moved your head to look at him but before you could say anything he shushed you softly and pulled you back in. “ ‘S fine, love,” he whispered, “can see that you’re tired.”

And with a half-woken mind and heavy eyelids you laid back on his shoulder and allowed yourself to snooze.

You woke up with him shifting again from under you, opening your eyes slowly to find the end credits rolling up the screen in front of you. You yawned lightly before sitting up, being careful not to wake a still-very-much-asleep Nia on your lap.

“Sorry,” you heard Harry say as you scratched at your eyes, “didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s fine,” you assured, your voice a bit raspy from your nap, “would have to happen, eventually.” You looked down at the unconscious girl lying on you, knowing you had to get her to bed so she could sleep properly. “We should wake her.”

“Want me to carry her to her room?” he asked.

“I think she’ll be okay,” you replied, gently calling her name so she could slowly wake up.

Surely, it didn’t take a lot of coaxing to get her eyelid to flutter open, as she lazily rose from her sleep.

You helped her to her room, afraid she’d trip down the stair in her hazy state of mind, still half asleep as she dragged her feet across the floor.

As soon as she laid down in her bed, you made your way back to the kitchen to fix yourself a glass of water so you could go to sleep.

It surprised you to find Harry still awake as you entered the space; he looked up at you from his position leaning on the counter with his phone in his hand. Quickly placing it in his back pocket as he saw you coming in, giving you a slight smile. “Thought you’d gone to bed.”

You reached for the cabinet Nia had pointed you to earlier where the cups were placed, picking one with little thought and closing it. “Just came here for a glass of water,” you spoke, moving the cup under the tap, “always have one next to my bed, y’know, in case I get thirsty and stuff.” You shook your head slightly, not wanting to ramble about the benefits of staying hydrated during the night just to make a conversation.

“Smart girl,” he joked, causing you to chuckle as you felt blush creeping out on your cheeks. You could see him coming closer to stand next to you from the corner of your eye, which didn’t help the tingly feeling forming at the pit of your stomach. “Excited fo’ tomorrow?” he asked, crossing his arms on top of the counter as he leaned next to you.

“Guess I am,” you answered, looking up at him and finding he was closer than you had realized. You smiled nervously as you met his eyes gazing down at you, before clearing your throat lightly. “What about you?”

“To be honest ‘m a bit nervous, love,” he confessed.

“Why’s that?”

“I mean,” he started, his eyes still fixed on you, “ ‘s not every day I get to pretend ‘m married to a pretty girl like you.”

You could feel your heart skip a beat as he reached one of his hands to move a strand of your hair behind your ear. He kept his hand on your cheek just as his eyes seemed to gaze down at your lips, so subtly that it felt like you might’ve imagined it.

The silence in the room was loud as you could almost hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears, as he leaned down just barely, getting closer to you. He looked down one more time at your lips, this time making sure you realized the unspoken question behind that action. You suddenly felt water pouring through your fingers, as the forgotten cup in your hand overflowed. This caused you to jump back a bit, quickly turning the tap off and resting the glass on the counter.

“Oh my god,” you squeak, reaching out for a towel right next to the sink to dry your hand. “I’m sorry, that was-” you chuckled, glancing at Harry who seemed to watch you with an amused expression. “That was awkward, sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” He assured, picking the full glass and moving it in the counter so it was out of your reach. “ ‘t was actually quite cute,” he moved closer to you again, reaching his hand to hold at your jawline.

You held back your breath as you felt his own hitting the top of your upper lip, your noses brushing slightly.

“Been wanting to do this fo’ a bit now, love,” he spoke a bit above a whisper, his deep voice sending chills down your spine and making you grab at his sweater, ”would you let me?” his thumb caressed your cheek lovingly, “would you let me kiss you?”

You could feel your heart beating strongly against your rib cages, swallowing hard as you looked up at him. He was watching you closely, his dark emerald irises gazing down at you as your lips barely brushed. You nodded at him, trying to pull him closer.

“Use your words, darling,” he insisted, not budging from his position. “Wanna hear you say it.”

“Please, Harry I-” you moved your hand to grasp on his waist, “just —kiss me.”

Giving a satisfied hum, he finally leaned down, closing the space between the two of you. His hand remained stroking your cheek softly, as the other sneaked under your neck.

He moved his lips ever so slightly, his cupid bow founding its way above your inner lip, sucking on it gently. The kiss was teasingly slow, making you hyper aware of all of your senses. Your hands feeling the soft fabric of his sweater, grabbing at it as if asking for more.

He moved the hand on your neck, pulling gently at your hair, making you angle your head up a bit. As his tongue poked to lick at your bottom lip, you opened your mouth, deepening the kiss.

You stayed like this for a while, pressed against the kitchen wall as you enjoyed the taste of each other.

When you pulled back, he splattered a few kisses along your cheek, giving one last peck on your mouth before pulling back.

“As much as I don’t want to end this now,” he muttered, moving his hand, so they were both holding your cheeks, “We should get some sleep fo’ tomorrow.”

“We should,” you agreed.

“We’ll get the chance to do this again,” he said, making you bite down a smile at the innuendo behind his words.

He gave you one last kiss before pulling away completely, reaching for the glass of water you had already forgotten about on the counter and handing it to you.

You walked back to your rooms without saying a word, but still sharing glances and smiles along the way. And as you got to your respective rooms, you whispered quiet good nights before parting ways and closing the door behind you.

The days that followed were rushed, considering the filming had officially started. You two barely had the chance to be alone again, which was disappointing. But still you couldn’t find yourself time to miss the feel of having his soft lips against yours, considering the scenes you had with each other. What you did miss was being able to kiss him without it being written in a piece of paper, or having someone from outside tell you to. You missed the intimacy of feeling his tongue meet your own and having his hands pulling you close as you both craved for more. You missed the shared secret between just the two of you, that was knowing how it felt to have him all to yourself.

It was discomforting, earning for someone you barely even know. Jumping into a feeling you know there’s no way can end well. You both were playing characters. Lovers, yes, but it was all pretend. It didn’t help that he was so good at it. In front of the cameras he would be so loving that you often wondered how much of it was just part of the act.

It was subtle things that made you think of it, like a glance across the room between takes. Him leaning close to you every time they called you to watch back something you had just recorded. Or when he sucked in your lip during a scene, so softly you could barely notice but still made your heart skip a beat.

But as much as it was nice to pretend that you two had some shared secret, you knew that the most likely scenario was that he was just doing his work and being friendly. So you tried your best to convince yourself that all of it was just your mind playing tricks, this way you could prevent yourself from inevitably getting hurt. That encounter in the kitchen was most likely his way of making things less awkward to when you inevitably would have to do it in front of a camera. That was it, nothing more.

It seemed to have worked pretty well, you two had the chemistry Evan hoped for when he wrote his script. Nia kept teasing you with every given opportunity. You didn’t tell her about the late night kitchen situation, but you knew she could sense the ‘chemistry’ was not simply because you two were just that good at acting. No one was complaining though, considering everything was going so smoothly they suspected it could be wrapped up even earlier than expected.

Every time they would mention the possibility, you found yourself wishing deep down something would set you back on the schedule. You felt bad for it, and you never voice your inner thoughts, but you knew wrapping up early meant going home early, and you were getting a bit too comfortable getting to act all loved up on camera.

As if some kind of outer force had listened to your wishes, just as you were halfway throughout the week, mother nature seemed to be your biggest ally.

You had just woken up with the annoying tune of your alarm clock, one you had chosen for finding it soothing at first. But you soon found that those sounds are not meant to feel soothing at all, as it woke you from your deep slumber. You were quick to turn it off before rubbing your eyes softly and enjoying the warmth of your bed for a few more minutes. You could hear the gentle sounds of raindrops hitting your window, but barely paid any attention to it as you rose lazily, stretching your arms above your head.

Making your way down the stairs you first noticed Evan standing by the big window in the living room, looking out with a hand resting on his hip and the other one holding a mug. Behind him, in one of the armchairs, sat Harry, also drinking out of a mug as he read a book quietly. But as if he felt your presence as you got to the bottom of the staircase, he looked up, smiling at you as you made your way into the room.

“G’morning,” he spoke, alerting the man by the window of your presence as he turned around to look at you.

“Good morning,” you said back, before realizing the worried expression on Evan’s face, “is everything okay?”

“A disaster just happened, honey, look out the windows!” he snapped, gesturing behind him where you could see the rain hitting the glass. The sky was dark with clouds, suggesting it was just the beginning of the storm that was to come. You looked back with a puzzled expression, knowing the weather was not the best, but as far as you remembered you had already shot all the scenes you needed outside. Evan rolled his eyes, “our natural light is gone, honey, it’s too dark to shoot!” he barked.

“Hey, no need to yell at her like tha’,” Harry looked back at his friend, attempting to calm him down, “ ‘s fine, we were early on schedule anyway, one day is not gonna delay it.”

He shot a look at Harry, his hand finding its way back on his waist as he let out a deep breath. “I’m sorry, this is just incredibly frustrating.”

You smiled at him to assure it was fine, knowing how much stress he was putting on because of this project. “Doesn’t Nia have one of those light things you were using the other day to make the scene brighter?” You suggested.

Evan sighed, “that’s a reflector, it just— well, reflects the light, we would need the sun for it to work, and seems like she’s not showing her face anytime soon,” he weightened his shoulders down, clearly feeling defeated. “I guess today is our off day — we should use it to pray for sunlight tomorrow, otherwise I’m pulling my hair off.”

When Nia woke up, you could tell she was not happy at all with the news that filming had to be cancelled for the time being. She spent the whole breakfast whining and crying about the poor weather. You tried your best to console her, but knowing your friend you knew her dramatics showed off when she worried about something. She tended to overthink every scenario that could go wrong, which did nothing to help the pressure she put on herself.

The day went on as eventless as it possibly could, the rain outside just seeming to get angrier as time passed by. You did your best to distract Nia from her own head, asking her about the recent documentaries she had watched, knowing she could go on tangents for hours. You talked about crime shows you have started before filming and shared different theories you had on them. You even listened to her deep analysis of trashy reality shows she loved to watch and always tried to drag you to get into it.

You talked and talked with no end, considering there wasn’t much else to do. Nia’s aunt hated computers and refused to install any kind of wifi, leaving you with a shitty connection that barely loaded a five-minute video.

As the evening came by, and the raindrops still hit angrily at the windows, you decided to watch another movie — this time it was Evan’s choice of Freaky Friday.

You volunteered to grab the blankets from the cabinets on the second floor, while Nia excitedly announced she would make popcorn for everyone.

Quickly moving along the hallway, you made your way in front of the doors and opened them. You could hear footsteps coming up the stairs as you tiptoed to reach the top shelf where the soft blanket you had used the first night lied on top of.

“Need help?” You heard a voice approach, looking over your shoulder to find Harry walking towards you with an amused expression on his face. You nodded, chuckling as you quickly stepped out of the way to allow him to take your place. He reached up, easily retrieving the blanket and giving it to you.

“Thank you,” you muttered, looking up at him for a moment.

“No problem, darlin’,” he said, fetching two other blankets before closing one door with a swing of his hip. You closed the other one with a small giggle. You started to quietly move along towards the staircase when he cleared his throat, causing you to look up at him. He kept his gaze down before speaking softly, “After the movie, think I’ll go back to my room a bit early,” he looked at you for a moment, “ ‘f you want to join me.”

You stopped walking to look at him arching your eyebrows surprised, not expecting this kind of proposal at this moment. He stopped a step ahead of you, staring back with nervous eyes and shooting you a shy smile. “I’m not saying we have to do anything, I just-” he spluttered, “just wanted to be with you, without the camera and stuff.”

You smiled at him, “of course,” you voiced, “sounds nice.”

Shortly, you found yourself in the same position as the first day. Sharing a blanket with Harry, but this time Nia was wide awake next to you with a bucket of popcorn plopped on her lap. Some people would consider her to be the worst kind of person to watch movies with, considering she would always get too excited and comment on every scene she could. You had gotten so used to it with time, that it felt weird watching a movie without her voice interrupting a scene every five minutes.

It got hard to concentrate on this one in particular, and not because of Nia’s speaking over the lines, but the sudden feeling of Harry’s hand resting on your knee halfway through it. Your legs were crossed on top of the couch, making part of it rest slightly on top of his as he eased his thumb over your skin.

As time passed, he moved his hand up a bit, finding its final place on your inner thigh, causing goosebumps to arise on the back of your neck as he caressed it softly. You caught yourself holding your breath multiple times, something he was also probably aware of, considering the position of his arm on the side of your chest.

The tension between you two was almost palpable as the end credits rolled up. At that point you had prompted yourself to lean your head on his shoulders. He grasped your skin slightly before removing his hand and motioning his position to get up, making you pull back from him.

“‘m going back to my room now,” he announced as he got up, shooting you a knowing look, “g’night.”

You stayed back for a few minutes so as not to look too suspicious, folding up the blanket you had used and scrolling through your phone for a bit. Not long after you excused yourself, climbing the stairs two steps at a time.

You found him in the hallway, leaning in on the wall right next to his door as he looked down on his phone. As he felt your presence he gazed up, grinning softly before bringing his finger above his lips as to warn you to stay quiet.

The two rushed inside his room, trying to be as quiet as possible, considering your friends downstairs could come up at any second. He closed the door behind him, looking right at you as he leaned back. His room was similar to yours, the difference being a few more clothes lying on top of the small couch standing at the corner. The curtains hanging on the big windows were pushed open, allowing the moonlight from the now-clear sky to illuminate the place.

Your breath got caught in your throat as you stared back at him, meeting his dark irises. He started stepping closer to you until he could lean his forehead against yours. His hands found their way caressing your jawline, one of them going as far as to pulling lightly on the hair above your neck. You held your breath, gazing up at him as you waited for his next move.

He smiled lazily, brushing his nose against your softly before placing a peck to the corner of your lips. He was teasing you, his hand leaving your hair to find its way down your body, paying special attention to the side of your breast before placing itself holding your waist.

You swallowed dryly, feeling your heart speed up as you pulled him closer, wanting desperately to close the space between the two of you. Too scared that your voice would give out your desperation, you moved one of your hands to the back of his neck and pulled him in. He didn’t think twice before finally closing the space and allowing you to feel his lips against yours.

The kiss started slow, both of you still trying to figure it out how it was to taste each other like this. His lips were soft, moving teasingly as he sucked on your bottom lip. Your hand pulled his hair gently, causing him to whine into mouth, licking at your tongue as he deepened the kiss. The hand on your waist moved up, caressing the side of your breast softly as he tried to pull you in as close as possible.

He started easing you backwards, considering neither of you were willing to break the kiss to watch where you were going. You felt the mattress of his bed hitting the back of your knees. You allowed him to lay you into the bed, parting for a moment so you could move upwards, laying your head on the pillows. Shortly enough he joined you, placing his elbows on both sides of your head, not wasting any time before closing the space between your mouths again.

The two of you stayed like this for a while. Slowly kissing each other, as your arm found its way back behind his neck and one of his hand caressed your cheek. You could get used to this, with him being the only thing you could sense. His taste. His touch. His scent.

He was all you could think about.

When you finally pulled back, you could see his red, puffy lips even with the limited amount of lighting going into the room.

He looked into your eyes for a moment, “you look so pretty like this, darling,” he murmured, his voice just above a whisper, sending chills down your spine. “Could eat you up.”

A small whimper left your mouth, as he dove back in to spread kissed along your cheek and down your throat. You bit hard into your lip and swallowed back a moan as he sucked in a spot right below your jawline. You could feel him grinding his hips down on your tights, making you aware of the growing bulge inside his sweats.

You placed your hand on his shoulders, pushing him gently and disconnecting him from your neck. He pulled back, looking back at you with a puzzled look. You kept pushing him until his shoulders hit the mattress, reverting the previous position you both were in, as you stranded his waist.

Looking down at him, you wanted so badly to discover his body, to make him feel good. So you took the same position he had on you. Placing your lips against his neck and running your tongue against it, sucking in his skin. You kept doing it as your hand smoothed down his body, finding the hem of his shirt and lifting it enough so you could scratch at his love handles. He gave you a small moan, a sound so delicious to hear you that made you want to swallow him whole.

Both his hands found their place on your waist, pressing you down so you could feel his need between your tights. You quickly pulled your head from his neck, giving him a soft peck on the lips.

“Please, love, just-” he grunted, looking up at you with pleading eyes. “Just do something, please, I-“

His hands gripped tightly on your waist as you rolled your hips against him. Neither of you could contain your moans as you repeated the movement, even fully clothed his bulge rubbed deliciously against the place you needed it the most.

You leaned down again, this time pushing his shirt up as you made your way down his body, splattering open-mouthed kisses along his warm chest. You paid a special mind to the tattoos you met along the way, sucking spots over the wings of a butterfly inked on his stomach. As you licked along the leaves of the ferns that adorned his love handles, you felt one of his hands tangling in your hair, his hips rising slightly as he whimpered.

“A bit impatient, you are,” you spoke, feeling his belly tighten as you placed a playful bite under his belly button, causing another moan to leave his lips.

“Darlin’, please,” he whined, “Just- fuck, just need you right now.”

You decided not to tease him for too long, considering you needed it just as much as he did. Finally, you moved down once more to place a kiss above the hard on over his pants. He lifted his head, watching your every move as his hand that was placed on your hair pushed some strands away from your forehead. You wrapped your hand around the hem of his sweats, rising your eyebrows at him as you felt he wasn’t wearing any underpants. The thought of having such easy access to him making you press your thighs together, feeling your wetness already damping your underwear

Slowly, you bit your bottom lip, keeping your gaze focused on him as you moved his sweats down, he raised his hips as to help you out. Once his cock was fully out, you stared back down at it lying proudly against his stomach. You ran your fingers gently along his length, causing him to hold his breath, his abdomen tightening once more. He was definitely bigger than anyone you had ever been with, causing your mouth to water a bit and your thighs to press together once again at the thought of fully having him.

You could feel him peering down at you as you wrapped your hands around the base and applied the smallest amount of pressure. The precum was already escaping from the tip and sliding down the tiniest bit.

Moving your head forward you looked back at his waiting eyes, spitting on top of the head as you moved your hand up caressing it. This time he gave you an actual moan, throwing his head back at the pillows behind him.

Looking down at him, you didn’t know where to place your lips first, wanting to bite and lick every part of his body. Finally deciding on sucking a spot on his thigh, right next to where rested an ink of a tiger head.

You kept the movement of your hand, twisting it and applying more pressure eventually as you watched him shift around under you. He raised his hips slightly as he pleaded under his breath for more, his hand firmly on top of your head as the other was thrown above his own.

You moved your thumb to run across his slit, caressing the head with a flick of your wrist as you moved your mouth to place kisses at the base. At this point he became a moaning mess, throwing his arm over his mouth as to muffle the sounds while you licked up his shaft.

“God- fuck- such a good girl,” he moaned on his arm, moving it out of the way so he could look down at you. “Doing so good, you feel so good- shit.”

Smiling at him, you jerked him off a couple of times before resting your hand at the base so you could replace it with your mouth.

You licked around his head, giving it a small kiss before you moved down as far as you could go. He cried out, tightening his grip on your hair and moving his hips up to meet your movements as you sucked on him.

He was desperate to reach his climax, and you were desperate to see him cum undone under your touch. So you started speeding up, your mouth licking at his veins, your hand helping you as you moved it along his dick. He was cursing and moaning over you, pleading for you not to stop. You kept moving your hand as you licked at his head once more before detaching so you could look up at him with pleading eyes.

“Almost there?” you asked, having him nod frantically at you, “will you let me have a taste?”

That seemed to do it for him, as he pushed your head back down, making you attach your lips to his head as you felt him shoot his load inside your mouth. You milked him as he came down from his high, feeling his softness on your lips as you swallowed down.

You sat up and looked down at his hazy eyes while he calmed down with heavy breaths. He adjusted his sweats quickly before moving himself up to pull you in for a frantic kiss. “God, darling, you’re a dream,” he spoke between kisses, his hands gripping at your waist as he positioned you to lie on top of him, moving one of them under your shirt, pulling it up slowly.

You quickly placed your hand on top of his stopping him from going further as you detached from him. He furrowed his brows at you. “I should go back to my room,” you said, “got an early day tomorrow.”

He gave you a puzzled look, “but you still haven’t- “

“it’s okay,” you interrupted, moving to get up from his bed, suddenly feeling nervous under his gaze, “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Good night!”

You left his room before he could protest, wanting to slap yourself from running away like this.

The next morning was thankfully much brighter than the one before, with sunlight shining through the windows at the earliest hours. You didn’t get a lot of sleep, tossing and turning around, replaying the previous night in your head. The thought of what could’ve happened if you had stayed imprinted itself in your mind. You started to overthink it. What did he even think of you? After running away like that?

Your thoughts consumed you as you sat in of the stools in the kitchen by yourself, for the first time being the first to be awake. Your coffee running cold by the minute, as you frowned to yourself, taking a sip every so often.

It didn’t take long until you didn’t find yourself alone anymore, having Evan join you as he happily cheered about the nice weather. You nodded along to him, not really in the mood for talking as you anxiously poked at your nails.

It was when you walked towards the sink to wash your used mug that you saw Harry walking into the kitchen. His hair messy and his eyes sleepy, making you annoyed at how charming he managed to look even after just getting out of bed.

He greeted you with a raspiness to his voice, his eyes lingering on you a moment too long as he smirked before moving to the cabinets. He stood next to you while you washed the dishes, grabbing himself a bowl while he worked on his breakfast.

Yours arms would brush every so often as you moved while doing your tasks, making you gaze at him. He kept a grin sitting on his face as he casually made a conversation with Evan, his dimple poking out the smallest bit, but still not looking back at you.

As soon as you were finished you left for your bedroom so you could get ready for the day, but not before sparing one last glance at Harry. This time his eyes were already trained on you as he chewed slowly his fruit salad. You felt your cheeks getting a bit warm from the eye contact, making you look down and leave the room with a speeding heart.

The work started early, as you ran around to keep up with the schedule after losing one day of productivity.

Harry seemed to be in it for teasing you. His touches lingered longer than needed. His kisses were harsher, the need behind them being almost palpable. His gaze on you told you something you couldn’t really tell exactly what it was. Lust? Desire? You weren’t entirely sure, but every time you caught him watching you felt a warmth take over your face.

In one occasion, between takes, as Nia and Evan discussed the best position for the camera considering her broken tripod. You stood awkwardly waiting for their instructions as you played with the hem of your dress. You could feel him staring closely, looking up to find him with the same smirk he gave you in the morning. He looked quickly over your friends who were still trying to figure out the problem before leaning up close to you “Still haven’t let me have a taste, love,” he said quiet enough to that just you could hear, the words sending a chill down your spine and making your core twitch as you glanced back at him.

That same night, after you announced you’d tuck yourself in, just as you changed into your pajama shorts, you heard a soft knock on your door. You opened up to see his darkened irises staring back at you as he quietly let himself in. And within a few minutes he found his place between your legs, your hand gripping tightly at his curls as you moaned into your pillow.

The following day wasn’t much different, starting with a tight filming schedule that was coming to a close end. An exchanging of glances across the room and yearning touches with underlying motives behind them. Ending with you lurking into his room at the dark hours of the night, craving-filled touched and muffled moans.

The wrap up of the film was welcomed with a bittersweet feeling settling itself in the pit of your stomach. Knowing as much as you were glad everything had gone as smoothly as possible during this week, it was time to leave it all behind.

You were nervous about how it would be with Harry after you got home. Was this the start of something that could potentially become a warm and beautiful feeling? Or was it just a lust-filled affair that would end as quickly as it had started? It made you anxious to think about it, not wanting to let go of it just yet.

Nia walked into the living room with two champagne bottles that had been brought up for this exact moment. The atmosphere was filled with chatter as everyone celebrated the end of the hard work.

You were dressed in the fanciest clothes you had brought on your rushed-packed bag, which consisted itself in a black blouse and a loose pair of pants you stole from Nia’s wardrobe a couple weeks prior. But you once again could not compete with Evan’s sense of style, as he seemed right out of a cover with a hot pink turtleneck under a sparkly black dress that hung all the way to his feet.

But you still couldn’t keep your eyes off of him.

You watched as he laughed along at something that had been said, his eyes meeting yours for a moment before fixing on Nia as she offered to serve him the champagne she had just opened.

He looked so good.

Like you, he didn’t opt for a very glam look, wearing a simple graphic white tee with a rainbow printed on it, and a simple pair of checked trousers. But as plain as someone could argue it was, he still managed to look incredibly inviting, which made it harder for you not to latch yourself onto him.

You were coming into your sixth or seventh glass when it all died down. Your head was fuzzy, and you felt giggly as you cheered along with everyone about the successful week you had. Nia had already gone back to her room. She didn’t drink as much considering she would have to drive early in the morning, wanting to leave most of the celebration for the premiere day.

The glances stolen between you and Harry were getting more frequent, the longing in each other's eyes visible with the effect of the alcohol.

He had you pressed up against your bedroom door as he sucked in your bottom lip harshly. His hands gripped at your waist tightly, putting his weight against you.

You wrapped your hand around his neck as the other pulled at his shirt desperately with the need of having him close. You felt overwhelmed by him in the nicest way. Having his hips pressing against your own, making you open your tights slightly as you felt his arousal straining on his trousers.

You whimpered into his mouth at the feeling, suddenly needing him as close as possible. You could tell his desperation matched your own by the way his hand pressed on the side of your body and his mouth moved against you. His groans getting lost in your throat every time you tangled your fingers on his roots, pulling at it.

“You’re gonna kill me like this, baby,” he breathed out, his lips moving against your wanting ones, “so fuckin’beautiful.”

You tried to keep your shaky hands steady as they travelled down his chest, scratching as his tummy lightly under his shirt before you began pulling it up. He detached from you to quickly reach over his shoulders and pull it off completely. He didn’t waste any time bringing his hand to unbutton your blouse, peppering kisses along your lips as he moved it down your shoulders, only to be met with your bare breasts underneath.

“Fuck me,” he groaned staring down at you, attaching your lips once again as he pulled you from the door as he fiddled with the zipper of your pants. You stumbled on each other's arms across the floor until you were met with the plush feeling of the bedcovers on the back of your thighs.

You stepped out of your pants as they got loose around your waist and fell damply to the floor, allowing Harry to push you gently into the mattress. He quickly got rid of his own trousers, wasting no time before towering above you, connecting your mouths once again.

It was like no matter how close you were, it still wasn’t good enough to satisfy the craving you had. You still wanted more. Needed more.

He was fully licking into you, his hands gripping your tights as he rolled his hips to meet yours. You moaned in unison at the feeling of your arousals meeting deliciously as he repeated the movement once more before parting your mouths so he could spread kisses along your neck.

“Harry,” you breathed out his name, dragging your nails along his back as you moved your hips up eagerly.

He moved his head from your neck o hover above yours, licking his lips teasingly as he looked down at you with dark eyes. He moved one of his hands to caress your cheek lovingly, as the other found your breast, his thumb grazing over your nipple. “Can I have a taste, baby?” he leaned his forehead against your, not breaking eye contact, “just a fo’a bit, then you can have me.”

You nodded frantically, brushing your nose against his. He gave you one last peck on the lips before moving down again to lick down at your skin. He pressed open-mouthed kisses at your chest, sucking harshly between your breasts. His tongue moved along your belly, craving his finger into it playfully like you had done to him, making you squeal above him.

He finally settled down between your thighs, his hand gripping at them to keep it apart before moving teasingly slow to the hem of your underwear. Your breath got caught in your throat as you moved up to lean on your elbows, gazing at him, hyper-aware of his every move.

He looked up, grinning like a devil, before moving his face down to nose gently at your mound. Pulling away, he pressed his hands on your sides, sliding your underwear off your legs as you helped him, raising your hips slightly.

You whimpered as you felt him kiss along your inner thigh, meeting your middle as licked you once. Your hips raised impatiently, making him smirk at you again before completely diving in.

You got lost in the pleasure as he licked his tongue into you, letting yourself fall back in the cushions behind your head. Your hand moved to grip at his hair tightly as he sucked in your clit, making you yelp and call out his name. His mouth was warm as his saliva mixed with your own wetness every time he licked into you.

Feeling your arousal pooling on your folds, you desperately needed to feel him as close as possible. Wanting every inch of him against you.

You pushed him from you, grabbing at his shoulder so he could move up to face you again. He didn’t protest, spattering quick kisses along the way before pressing his mouth against yours. The taste of champagne still lingering on your tongue mixed with your own taste on his as he licked into your mouth.

“y’taste so good, baby,” he groaned, parting from you as he moved to remove his briefs. The limited amount of light illuminated his face beautifully, making you able to notice the glistening of your juices down his chin. You felt your core twitch at the scene above you, desperate to have him fill you up.

“Please,” you urged him, grabbing at his hips to pull him down.

“Can I have you, darlin’?” His voice was raspy, as he looks down at you with hooded eyes, “‘d you let me?”

Your arousal blurred your mind, your grip on his waist tightened as you raised your hips impatiently, nodding along to his question.

“Have to hear you say it, love,” he spoke, leaning down to place kisses along your neck, “just say it, and you’ll have me.”

“You can have me, please, I-” you moaned desperately, babbling words without thinking, “I need you, please.”

He raised his head from your shoulders, giving you a quick peck before reaching down to guide his length between your folds. Your belly tensed as he rubbed his head against your clit, holding back your breath as he finally slid in you.

“Fuck, you’re wet,” he choked, pushing his hips all the way, allowing you to feel every inch of him fill you up. You breathed out a moan, reaching your hand on his back. “‘s this all fo’ me?”

You whined out a ‘yes’, rolling your hips as a way of urging him to move.

His movements began slow, his cock rubbing heavenly against your walls, making you clench around him. You both moaned and whimpered as your lips brushed.

“Can feel me deep?” He asked, resting his forehead against yours as he pushed his dick all the way in. You nodded, yearning for him to start moving again. “Can feel me in y’belly?”

“H, please,” you begged, gripping your nails on his shoulder blades.”Want you.”

“y’have me,” he kissed you hard before moving again, rolling his hips as he picked up the pace.

The air around you was hot as you threw your head back with the delicious feeling of him hitting the spot inside of you. He was addicting. The salty taste of his skin. The touch of his hands gripping on your sides. The smell of his cologne faintly mixed with sweat. The sound of his skin meeting yours. It made you earn for him in every possible way.

You felt your wetness dripping out of you as he pulled your leg up to your chest, allowing him to effectively hit deeper spots. The new position made a cramp start to creep up on your thight, but you ignored it to focus on the way his hips met yours.

Time seemed to pass like a blur as you pleasured each other, but soon enough you felt your orgasm building up. His thrusts became more frequent and smooth as he felt you clench more around him.

“that’s it, baby - fuck,” he grunted, moving his hand down to flicker your clit, causing to arch your back, moaning loudly. “Wanna feel you come for me.”

His cross necklace dangled over you as he watched you closely. You kept your gaze locked on his as you felt the feeling deep in your tummy take over your entire body. A moan got stuck in your throat as you opened your mouth to an ‘O’ shape, digging your nails further on his shoulders as you reached your high.

Getting home, you soon realized that throughout the week you had been so lost in your feelings with Harry that you didn’t even think of asking him for his phone number.

The month that followed passed by surprisingly quickly. During the first week you were swiftly thrown back again into your old reality of course essays and textbooks. You hadn’t heard a word from Harry, and the most frustrating part is that he seemed to have settled his place inside your thoughts. You tried asking about him to Nia once or twice again, but every time she seemed to come up with vague answers and change the subject, so you figured she had other things to worry about.

It was a disappointing end, to say the least. Even knowing from the start that being let down was the most possible outcome, it didn’t hurt any less. You often wondered if it had been something you’d done that made him pull away, or if he just wasn’t in it from the start.

By the second week you had gotten a job at a tiny local cafe you used to go after class to study and eat cinnamon rolls. That’s when time starting to rush by, as you found yourself busy through most of your day. Nia was working more than you’ve ever seen her. You two barely talked as she spent most of her time with Evan or inside her room editing. And as the week at the camp house got further away, it started to almost seem like you had imagined all of it.

Having a lot of distractions helped, but you never seemed to push the thought of a certain curly-haired boy completely away. Sometimes during a tedious lesson you would daydream about the feeling of his lips against yours. Or right before you fell asleep you would think about the taste of his skin, how strong his hand were gripping on your thighs. Maybe even at work. When there wasn’t a lot of movement, you could almost hear the sound of his voice.

It was aggravating, the effect he left on you. It got to a point where you got angry; sometimes at him but sometimes at yourself. He was the one who had gone after you, and yet he was the one who disappeared. But again, he didn’t really owe you anything, and that’s what’s frustrating. You were the one who allowed him; you knew from the start that you would get hurt but you still went for it, anyway.

As you got closer to the premiere night that was planned, you started to get anxious. You would catch yourself daydreaming more often, not being as focused as you were. You even started picking your nails again, which is a habit you thought you’d kick it a long time ago. But truth to be told, you were nervous.

The thought about seeing him again made your heart race. You wished that you could somehow find a way not to go. Maybe ask Nia if the two of you could have a private viewing. You had even thought about bribing her with making your mom’s brownie recipe. But you already knew the answer before you even suggested it. This was an important night for her, and you would be there to support it.

You were overthinking this. Was it going to be awkward when you met him? How would you even greet him? Would he kiss you? Would he ignore you? Should you ignore him? All the scenarios in your head made you want to throw up and run away.

When the two of you finally arrived, you were greeted by a cheerful Evan, who jokingly teased you for being late. As you got into his house, you found a bigger group than you expected. It seemed like you and Nia were the last ones to arrive, as there was around ten other people in there. Some of them you recognized from being Nia’s friends, others you had never seen, but none was the one you earned to see the most.

Evan guided you across the living room area, “I’ll show you the kitchen so you two can get some drinks,” He held up his glass as he spoke. Gesturing to the entrance of the room, “We’ll start everything in around ten minutes, so get ready.”

As you entered the kitchen behind Nia, you could feel her stiffen her posture a bit, before looking back at you. You frowned lightly at her, confused by her behaviour, gazing inside the room and finding immediately a pair of green eyes already watching you. It made you think back to the first time you were in this exact position, except in your own kitchen. This time, however, he was the one to approach you.

He looked really good, which did nothing to help the butterflies flying relentlessly in your stomach. He was in all black, a buttoned up shirt with a few buttons open, exposing a bit of the skin on his chest where a silver necklace laid upon. You swallowed dryly at the sight of his hand running swiftly through his hair, with a ring hugging each one of his fingers.

As he got close, he greeted Nia first, giving her a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek, before turning his attention back to you. He shot you a shy smile, before embracing you into a hug. You didn’t really know if it was your mind playing tricks but you felt him a bit hesitant as he greeted you and placed a kiss on your cheek. Pulling away, he cleared his throat, running his hand again through his hair, he almost seemed… nervous?

“‘S nice seeing you again,” he mumbled, “this uhm… ‘s my girlfriend, Jess.”

You could felt your heart drop with his words as you finally noticed a smiley girl coming to his side.

She wasn’t much taller than you, her red hair pulled back in a perfect ponytail. She matched him with a small black dress that annoyingly hugged her body in all the right ways. You could barely register her greeting you, as you tried your best to keep a straight face to hide the shock that took over your body. You felt a heaviness at the pit of your stomach, a feeling so distressful that made you want to scream as an attempt to make it go away.

You didn’t pay a lot of attention as Nia made a conversation with the girl, knowing that’s what she did best. You kept your gaze directed to Harry, your eyes asking a million questions - you didn’t even think you wanted to know the answers to. But he kept his eyes locked on the floor, eventually looking up at the girl in his arms as she seemed to mention him. But never meeting your own. Her hand was caressing his chest lovingly while his found their way on her waist, keeping her close.

“I think I’ll get something to drink,” you announced, realizing you might’ve interrupted the conversation as they stopped talking. You turned to Nia, “do you want something?”

She looked back at you with sorry eyes, “I should go with you,” she quickly turned back to the girl, “It was lovely meeting you, Jess.”

“Oh! Sure,” she smiled brightly at you two, her hand moving to rest on Harry’s chest, “we should go get our seats as well, right, babe?”

You left the scene as quickly as you could, not wanting to hear any more of it. Looking at all the drink options on top of the counter, you tried to think which one could get you drunk enough to stop feeling hurt over someone you spent just a week with, but still sober enough so that you could pretend everything was fine. Before you realized, Nia was standing next to you, getting two plastic pink cups before she stared at you with guilty-filled eyes.

“I should’ve just told you about it,” she sighed, “I didn’t want to make you sad, but looking back it was probably best if you already knew.”

You turned your head to look at her, “so you knew it all along?” You swallowed the lump in your throat as you felt it close once again.

“Evan told me like a few days after we got back!” She rushed, “I don’t know if they were together while we were filming.”

You took a deep breath, knowing Nia was probably blaming herself for putting you into this situation. But you knew it wasn’t her fault, she would never purposely put you in this position if she knew about it before.

“You know what, it’s fine,” you tried your best to cover up the hurt and gave her a weak smile, “it’s not your fault Ni. It’s okay. I’m fine.”

She pulled you into a tight hug, “I’m sorry, bubba,” she said, “let’s get you something to drink so you can enjoy this party like the star you are!”

The two of you decided on the vodka mixed with watermelon juice, something you had never even thought of trying before but seemed to be ideal to handle the situation you found yourself in. You walked back to the living area, where people were already beginning to settle on the chairs.

Following Nia, you prompted yourself on a seat at the edge closest to the door, opposite to where Harry sat with the girl. His girl. You thought bitterly, taking a big sip from your cup and cringing at the strong taste.

There was a speech you didn’t pay much attention to before they started the film, only giving a slight smile when you realized the mention of your name.

Before you knew it, the lights were out and your face took over the screen.

It was harder than you thought it would be. Looking up at the scenes you had with Harry, knowing everything that happened behind the cameras. Knowing every touch and every kiss felt more than just playing a character. You knew the actual feeling of having him to yourself. But now staring at it right in front of you, it just left a sour taste in your mouth.

You finished your drink barely ten minutes into the film, the feeling of your chest aching starting to become overwhelming as you watched your shared kiss on the big screen. You could feel your throat close once more, your eyes watering a bit.

“I’m gonna get some air,” you whispered to Nia sitting next to you, who gave you a sympathetic smile as you got up. You glimpsed quickly to Harry who had his eyes trained on you, the girl next to him leaning to whisper something in his ear.

You could feel the tears falling down stubbornly as you left the room. Standing in the hallway, you made the decision to turn to the front door instead of the back, not wanting to face anyone with reddish eyes.

You left the house, picking your phone with shaky hands as you managed to call a ride home, sighing in relief as your screen told you it was just about three minutes away.

You heard the door open behind you as stood on the sidewalk hugging yourself to get some warmth on the chilly night. You tried your best to swallow back your tears as you turned around, expecting to find Nia looking at you with pitiful eyes.

To your surprise, the person standing there was Harry, looking like a deer caught in the headlights as he took in your tearful eyes. He spoke your name in a soft voice, causing you to look away.

“Don’t-” you interrupted, raising your hand at him, “I don’t wanna hear it.”

He frowned at you, not wanting to upset you more. “I’m sorry,” he hesitated, taking a step forward.

Your phone buzzed in your hand, as you watched your ride pulling in front of you. You looked back at him, “I’m sorry too,” you said before moving to enter the car.

You spared him one last glance through the window as the driver pulled away.

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