#certainly not that they’d be stupid enough to go there and get it

[yourqueenb]

They are so… dumb ?????

[jarofstyles]

Appetency

Okay so we've got a bit of a long one. Kinda enemies to lovers if you blink, fuckboyrry turned softrry, dedication galore, hesitant Y/N and confident H, you're gonna love it. This is the first half- the other half is already up on Patreon and will be here later on 💕

Check out our Patreon for early access to the second half and 200+ exclusive writings

Warnings- slight angst, mentions of anxiety, alcohol, cocky h turned into a loverboy... nothing too crazy in this part.

WC- 8.5k

“Why are you every-fucking-where.” Y/N stopped short, glaring at the man across from her. The entire party, she had been trying to avoid him- but he wasn’t letting that be at all possible.

Harry grinned widely at that, the most obnoxious and infuriatingly pretty smile with those stupid dimples. Leaning against the wall as he studied her for a good moment, there was no hiding the not so casual enjoyment he got out of flustering her. 

Finally, he broke the silence, standing up from his casually cool stance on the wall. She knew he was going to say something that annoyed her and it was proven as he opened his mouth. "C’mon, don’t be like that. Perhaps you just can't keep me off your mind, baby girl. Can’t stop thinking about me, seeing me everywhere…"

“Ew. Do not call me that.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust for the nickname, walking past him. He followed, of course, because he always did. “Just because we have a few similar friends doesn’t mean you need to be at every social event. I’d love a break from your smug face.”

"You can't possibly be getting tired of this handsome face already…" He protested as he followed behind, his words purposely trying to rile her up. Getting a rise out of her seemed to make his whole day, and usually she would laugh it off but this time… things were different. Finding a spot in the kitchen, he watched as she puttered around trying not to look at him. 

His eyes danced with amusement as he added in some more. "Or are you just mad that I always seem to steal the show, love? Not my fault that I'm effortlessly charming and captivating, darling."

“Humble, too.” She snorted, grabbing a drink from the cooler. Buzzballs were not the thing she’d want to choose when she was thinking about the next morning, but they were exactly what she needed when it came to trying to mentally escape right now. “You’re insufferable. Really.” His eyes were on her as she used her nail to pop open the cap. 

“So are you going to leave me alone, or follow me around all night?”

Harry chuckled in amusement at her sarcasm, enjoying the way she rolled your eyes at him. "Leave you alone when you look this lovely? Not a chance in hell, darling." He hummed, tapping his own bottle against the counter. He paid no mind to the new people who entered the space, eyes glued on the girl he was talking to. "But as much as I'd love to keep annoying you, I have a much better way we could spend time. Don't you remember, love?" He purred. “I certainly do. It’s hard to forget the way it feels when you moan-” The interruption was instant, her hand gripping onto him. 

“Harry…” she hissed, tugging his arm further down the dark hallway and into a bedroom. Who’s? She didn’t know. All she knew was that she had seen where this was going, and she didn’t want him to say it too loudly. Everyone was so god damn nosy and respectfully, she didn’t want to deal with any of that. Not after all she had said.

“Listen.” Putting her hands on her hips, she tilted her head up at him as he stood a little too close. “We hooked up, it was a mistake. You know it.” Though it didn’t seem like he thought so considering how he trailed her ever since. “We… we were a little drunk and I was lonely and you were there.” 

Y/N knew she was slightly lying, but she was trying to fool herself. If she said it enough times, maybe she’d believe it. They’d always had chemistry. It was intensity that burned between them, her disdain and his addiction to getting a rise out of her. It was only a matter of time that they’d give into some sort of blow out- but she hadn’t expected it to be as good as it was. It couldn’t happen again. 

Harry had that knowing smirk on his face as she tried to deny it all, knowing exactly where this was headed. The thrill of chasing her, of getting under her skin was intoxicating, addicting. He loved making her growl and huff and glare at him, because it meant getting her undivided attention.

"Was it really a mistake?" He asked as he leaned against the door, finally giving her some breathing room.  "Or have you just been avoiding me because you couldn't stop thinking about it?"

The truth was that he had been thinking about that night ever since. Multiple times. Before he went to sleep, when he was in the shower.. It was hard not to. 

Her jaw clenched, placing her bottle down and crossing her arms. “Look. You’re hot, Harry. You don’t need me to tell you that. You’ve got plenty big of an ego. But I’ve been avoiding you because it can not happen again.” 

Y/N knew that Nina was into Harry and she really didn’t want to start any drama. Not that he even seemed remotely into her, but because she acted like he was someone she had dibs on. As gross as it was, she tended to start shit with anyone Harry pursued and she just wasn’t in the season for drama. There were other things to worry about other than start a feud over a man. 

He had known about Nina's crush on him, but he didn't care about her. He never had, and he never would. As fucked up as it was, what they had, in his mind, was just a harmless flirtation, nothing more. Y/N knew that, but Nina didn’t. He couldn't have been more clear he had no interest in her, but some people took delusion to heart. 

It didn’t matter how good Harry gave it to her last time, how hard her legs shook, how sore she was in the best way. Didn’t matter if his tongue was hot and through and how he’d cleaned her up with it. It couldn’t be repeated.

Harry's smirk only widened as she openly admitted he was attractive, his ego inflating even more. But when she mentioned avoiding him, his smile faltered slightly.

"Why can't it happen again?" He asked, moving closer to her, his eyes darkened. Too close, making her take a deep breath. If there was one thing he would give him, his presence was commanding. Felt. Her body was very familiar with his now, wanting to lean into him, but she fought it.

“Because.” She sighed tiredly. “I really can’t deal with any drama. I’m exhausted, and the last thing I need is that she-devil going after me because she thinks I’m ‘stealing her man.’ “

The man let out a laugh, amused by the comment. Yeah, he knew exactly who she was referring to and found it funny. He knew she could be a drama queen, and he definitely didn't care for her possessive tendencies, but he had told her that they had nothing going on between them and never would.

He stepped closer to her, his greedy hands reaching out to touch her hips, his touch firm. "You're not stealing me, love. She never had me, and she's delusional if she thinks she does." His eyes gleamed with desire as he looked at her, his touch becoming a bit more possessive in his own way. "And I want you, not her."

“Harry, you don’t actually want me.” She groaned in frustration, trying to ignore how her tummy dropped as he pulled her into him, his other hand curling around her jaw. Stupid body, stupid hormones, stupid muscle memory.  “You think you do because you like a chase. You don’t actually like me or anything, you like how I fuck.” She said bluntly, glancing up at him.

Harry's smug expression faltered as she protested. He could feel the annoyance, but he also noticed the way her body responded to his touch. There was no denying that. "Is that what you really think?" He asked, his grip on her jaw tightening slightly as he looked down at her. "That I'm just chasing you only for the thrill of the chase, for the sex?"

His eyes darkened, his other hand moving lower on her hip, pulling her flush against him. He could feel her body against his, the softness, the warmth, and he wanted it all back. There had been no way she could tell him that she hadn’t enjoyed it, considering he’d made her cum 3 times, made her gush all over his cock. She’d clung to him, held onto him, whimpered his name. But he’d taken care of her, he had gotten her some pomegranate juice and a snack, helped her tie her hair up, driven her home. When the contact had been nonexistent, he was hoping she was just making him work for it- but that wasn’t all this was to him.

“Yeah.” She furrowed her brows. “Is it not?” Harry wasn’t the relationship type, not usually. Everyone knew that. Y/N had constantly reminded herself that when they’d first met and she had a bit of a crush on him, only to see that he liked to fuck em’ and leave ‘em. It lost the appeal and she had resented him a bit for it. 

Was it fair? No. She knew that. But their dynamic had been built on that resentment. 

Harry's jaw clenched at her response, frustration and something else flickering in his face. He loosened his grip on her slightly, his gaze searching her eyes, trying to convey something she obviously wasn’t picking up on.

"And what if I told you that you were wrong?" He asked, his voice low. "What if I told you that there's more to me than just chase and sex?" He tilted his face closer to hers, his hand on her hip keeping her snug. He hadn't realized it himself just how touch deprived for her he actually was. Did she really think it was all just… a game? Had he not proven himself to her that night? Granted, he had maybe fucked up in how he communicated after but… the ball had been put in her court. 

He could tell that she was skeptical, but he was determined to make her believe him.

"I want you." He said firmly, his hand on her jaw moving to wrap around the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair. "I want everything. Your body, your mind, your heart." His hand on her hip moved lower, his touch a little needy. "And the fact that I can't have you is driving me insane. Want you to believe me."

“But why?” She sputtered. “All we do is argue. All I do is blow you off and all you do is follow me around to piss me off.” 

She had no idea he had his own fascination with her. How he’d silently watched her, observed, saw how she was with other people and wanted that chance to feel that. To have one of those smiles for himself.

Harry shook his head with a light laugh, his grip on her flexing slightly as he stared down at the girl he had been playing cat and mouse with. "Because I'll take the arguing, the blowoffs, all of it, just to be near you. I don't know when it truly started, but you've gotten under my skin, love." He pushed her back against the door, his body pressed against hers, trapping the girl. Looking down at her, his eyes were dark with desire, with honesty. It was a little unsettling.

“Harry.” She swallowed, eyes fluttering as his fingers stroked over her jaw and down over her throat, tenderness tinging the touches. “It’s not funny if this is a joke. It’s not.”

Harry's let out a tired breath, his touch gentle as he stroked her delicate skin, taking advantage of every touch. He could see that vulnerability in her eyes, and it only made him more determined to prove himself. "M’not joking. " He said firmly. "This is serious, I want you, and m’not giving up until I have you."

“Then you’re gonna have to work for it.” She exhaled sharply, pushing out of his hold and escaping back towards the party.

Y/N was almost fooled into giving in again- but she could give in without a real, true idea of what he was dedicated to. Maybe it was cruel of her to try and write him off as a bit of a slut trying his luck, but she’d never been awarded the chance to get to know him outside of their usual dynamic. 

That was why, the next day, seeing him on her front porch had her gasping in surprise. “Shit!” She yelped, keys falling to the wood below her. 

He looked good. The night of sleep seemed to refresh him, he’d showered, and he was bright eyed this morning. Determined. Why? She didn’t know. But this was not at all what she had expected when opening her front door. “ You scared the fuck out of me. What are you doing here?”

"Good morning, love." He greeted her. “Nice to see you this mornin’. You look gorgeous.” That cheeky fucking grin, as usual, tilted on his mouth. 

She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow in question. "You didn't answer my question. What are you doing here?"

Harry flashed her a grin, completely unfazed by her skepticism.  "I'm here to see you, of course." He said, as if it was obvious. “Silly thing.”

“Why?” She didn’t want to get too huffy with him but he was nearly speaking in riddles and she didn’t have the patience for that. “Are you alright?”

Of course he was amused at how frustrated she looked, finding her impatience obviously endearing. Maybe it was just her, though. Y/N was a bit of a weakness of his, he found. Pushing himself up the final step, he grabbed her keys and handed them back to her, making no effort to pull his hands away from her own. 

"I'm fine, love." He hummed casually. "I just wanted to see you." Holding her hands in his, his thumbs rubbing soft circles on the skin. Casual intimacy that slightly caught her off guard.

The girl merely looked at him in confusion.  The plan for today had been to go to the grocery shop and do stuff around the house, not entertain the man who had admitted to wanting her last night- but she knew if he was here, it meant he was determined to get his way.

Aka, spending time with her. 

“Okay.. So now you saw me.” She said lowly. “Do you want to go home now?”

The sight of her looking so flustered and on edge fueling his determination, he shook his head.  "Not yet." He said, his voice low and firm. "M’not leaving until I get some of your time."

Y/N closed her eyes, taking a deep inhale through her nose and exhaling through her mouth. Meditative breathing did wonders, it seemed. Usually. She knew Harry well enough to know that he wasn’t going to let this go. He was going to keep prodding until he understood that he probably had no actual intention of being around her long term. He was looking at her with metaphorical sex goggles on. Yeah, she was good in bed, but that was only a tiny portion of her. 

He’d learn eventually.

“Well, I have to go to the store. So…”

Harry watched you closely as she opened her eyes from the attempting to calm herself. It was a little unnerving to know she needed to calm down from such a simple interaction but then again, he had been coming on a little strong. It was his nature, but he tried to relax his stance a bit. No way was he going to let an opportunity to spend time with her be wasted. He was dedicated now, wanting to win her over.  "You're going to the store?" He leaned in closer. “Looks like I'll just have to come with you, then."

Y/N sputtered as he took her handbag and totes from her, tucking them under his arm as the other held her hand. 

“C’mon.” He said smugly, pulling her towards his car. She followed, confused at how he had just agreed to go grocery shopping with her. Willingly. It wasn’t something he liked doing and she knew that- she somehow had found out one night that he had his delivered- but he seemed eager to do this with her. 

The last thing she expected was for him to open the passenger door and help her inside, but he did. Like it was second nature, opening it up and taking her hand to aid her into sitting sound, placing her bags on her lap.

Harry's smirk widened as he scooped up her handbag and totes, his grip on your hand firm as he guided her towards his car. He snickered under her breath at her sputtered protest, enjoying her disbelief that he was actually willing to go grocery shopping with her. Like it was some sort of hardship.

Once he had settled her in, he leaned in closer, the smell of cinnamon gum filling her senses. Keeping his stance, his eyes locked on her, his gaze intense. He could see the confusion in her eyes, and it only fueled his determination to make it second nature to her, to expect this sort of thing from him. . 

"You look cute this morning." He said, his voice low and smooth. "Did you get much sleep last night?" He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch gentle.

Her cheeks felt hot as he tenderly touched her, the softness of it all surprising her. “Um… I did.” The compliment had flustered her too. It wasn’t something she was used to from him. Their usual dynamic was tense on her end and being a pain in the ass with a stupid smirk on his. This sort of treatment was new to her. 

“Thanks. You look….” It felt unnatural to compliment him, but she meant it. Strangely enough. All of this was so new to her.  “Nice.”

Harry chuckled at the slight hesitation in her words, enjoying the way she was thrown off by his tenderness. One day she was going to accept it.  He smiled at her attempt at a compliment, narrowing his gaze at her. "Just nice?" He teased, raising an eyebrow.  He placed a light hand on her knee, his thumb stroking her skin in small circles, his touch gentle and comforting.

“Well, handsome? I dunno.” She grumbled. “Just so you know, you’re carrying all the grocery bags. If you insist on coming along you need to be useful.”

"Oh, I can be very useful, love. You jus’ need to find out what else I can off s’all." He said, his hand continuing its caressing on her knee, his touch sending a little jolt through her body "And don’t worry, I’ll carry all the bags. You just worry about picking out what you need."

Harry could see the doubt in her eyes as he reassured her about carrying the bags, and he knew he had to prove it. Not just that, but the whole thing. He hadn’t won her over quite yet, but he would. 

Removing his hand from her knee, he ignored how much he missed the touch and stood up straight, standing tall and strong next to the car. 

"You don’t believe me?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "Just watch, sweetheart. Gonna shock the shit out of you."

——-

Y/N was suspicious. 

Harry was… behaving. More than, actually. He was being sweet and polite, borderline charming. Standing beside her as she pushed the cart, grabbing the items at the top shelves, not rushing her at all. He was flirty, sure, but nothing insane that truly made her roll her eyes at him. His voice was soft spoken and held only a tiny bit of the arrogance it usually did… and she liked it.

Who the fuck was this? And what had they done with the normal Harry? 

“You’re freaking me out a little.” She mumbled, checking off another thing on her list. “Like, you’re being pleasant. That’s not normal for you.”

"What, I can't be pleasant sometimes?" He teased, giving her a look. 

He couldn't help but grin as he watched her check off another item on the grocery list, his eyes roaming freely over her focused expression. He was enjoying this, he realized, enjoying the chance to be close to her more than he would have ever expected. "Maybe I’m just in a good mood today." He said, leaning against the cart.

“It’s just suspicious.” She glanced at him from the side of her eye. “You’re always following me around and trying to get me to snap at you. So excuse me for being a little confused when you’re acting so normal and nice.”

Harry liked working her up and getting reactions out of her, but he liked her. Y/N gave him the tummy butterflies, the excitement, the hot cheeks, all of it. She just didn’t know that- or was heavily in denial. It was his fault, he knew, from never expressing how serious the desires were and expecting her to read between the lines. But fuck, could she blame him? Y/N was a spitfire.

“Can you- fuck.” She groaned. “This can not get any worse.” 

Across the aisle, she saw her. Nina. Glaring at the scene of Harry standing a little too close to Y/N, doing a domestic activity like shopping together… It looked like they were way more than friends. This wasn’t something he liked doing and of course, the other girl would know that… So the situation didn’t look too good.

Harry could feel the shift in her mood as she spotted Nina across the aisle, and he tensed up slightly, ready for the inevitable confrontation.  Fuck, and they’d been doing so good. Of course, someone had to throw him a curveball. 

Good thing he was willing to work for this. 

"Relax." He said quietly, his hand squeezing her shoulder reassuringly, thumbing over the fabric. "I'll handle it."

Harry could feel the tension in her body as he held onto her, knowing that she was on edge. He knew Nina could be a handful, and he didn't want her to add to the stress of the situation. Especially after Y/N was seemingly warming up to him.

He took a deep breath and turned to her, his expression neutral but firm. 

"Nina." He said, his voice calm and steady- almost bored. "Why are you glaring at us like that?”

Nina’s eyes flicked between the pair, her expression hardening as she spoke. “What are you two doing?” She asked, her voice dripping with disdain. 

Harry kept his expression neutral, his hand on Y/N unmoving as he spoke to her. “We’re shopping. Is that a crime?” He replied, his tone cool.

Nina’s lip curled up in a sneer, her eyes narrowing. "Shopping? Is that all?" She asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Awfully domestic, isn’t it?”

Harry chuckled, unruffled by her attitude. "Yes, Nina. We’re just picking up some groceries. Is that so hard to believe?" he challenged, letting her try and intimidate him. It wasn’t going to work. 

The girl’s jaw clenched as Harry responded to her, clearly annoyed at the lack of reaction she was getting from him. 

She took a step closer, sizing Y/N up with an unpleasant expression. She really needed to not make that face- it was unflattering.  “Is this a date or something?” She snapped, her eyes flickering over to Harry.

Harry chuckled at Nina’s question, finding her assumption humorous. 

He looked over at the girl he wished would say yes, his eyes filled with amusement. "What do you think, love?” He taunted.  Maybe it wasn’t the nicest thing to do, but he didn’t particularly care. 

Y/N rolled her eyes. This wasn’t what she wanted out of this interaction. Hell- she never wanted his interaction at all. “We’re shopping.” She said lowly. “And we have to go.”

Nina pursed her lips as her response, clearly unsatisfied with the answer she was given. She never could leave well enough alone. Harry could see her gearing up for another snarky comment, so he quickly interjected. 

"She’s right." He said, his tone firm. “We do have to go. Bye."  There was no hint of remorse on his face as he motioned for her to get out of the way. 

With that, he guided Y/N forward, steering both her and the cart towards the checkout area.

“Christ.” Y/N rubbed her temples. “She’s gonna try and burn my house down. I know it.” She sulked.

Harry chuckled at the outburst. He continued steering the cart towards the checkout area as she went back over the list, a small smile on his lips. 

"Don't be so overdramatic." He teased. "She's not gonna burn down your house. She's just jealous."

“Harry, she’s scared like, 4 women away from hanging out anywhere near you completely.” Y/N sighed. “I know you don’t see it as much, but she’s tenacious. I don’t know what’s going to get her to stop, but you need to actually have a conversation with her to tell her you’re not interested. Or whoever ends up being your girlfriend is going to have to deal with her crawling around.”

Harry’s smile faded slightly as she mentioned Nina’s past behavior. He knew she could be intense and possessive, but he didn’t realize the extent of her actions. Considering he hadn’t even slept with her, it seemed like a massive overreaction. Of course there had been natural curiosity over some of the women in their friend circle had gone, but now that question had been answered. 

He bit his lip, mulling over the words as he helped her load the groceries onto the checkout belt. "You’re right." He said finally, his voice serious as it broke up the beeping of the items being scanned. "I guess I didn’t realize it was that serious. M’sorry. I don't particularly want to have that conversation, but it needs to be had. I’ll talk to her."

Harry continued helping you with the groceries, lost in thought for a moment before speaking again. "I’ll talk to her soon, make sure she knows for sure me and her are never going to be a thing and if she wants to try and scare off anyone I talk to, she won’t be invited to anything else." He said firmly, his eyes serious. 

"But first," he added, breaking the tense air as his tone turned playful again, "We have to get these groceries home. I’m starving."

—

It was safe to say that she was even more confused than she had started off being. 

Harry helped her bring the groceries into her place. He helped her unpack. He even fed her cat while she washed the fruit so she could put it away. Helping himself to her house like he had a right to be there, a comfortability that had her a little spooked. 

It was hard to accept the thought of Harry actually liking her. First, she hadn’t ever seen him with a serious girlfriend. All she had been exposed to was seeing him fucking around with different people. Secondly, he was always so playful and unserious that internally, the most insecure part of her felt like maybe it was a trick, and it made her more apprehensive of him. 

It wasn’t fair of her to be so judgmental when she was not a virgin mary herself; she knew that she wasn’t giving him a proper shot, but it was scary. He was scary, in a way.  Maybe it was the idea of how far feelings could go if she gave in, but it felt hard to stop those original emotions she had towards him from coming back. 

“Thank you.” She said awkwardly as Harry sat at her breakfast bar. “Um, for helping put away the stuff and bringing it inside. That was really nice of you.”

Harry, who was lounging in a chair at the breakfast bar, chuckled at the awkward gratitude.  "S’no big deal." He said, his tone casual. "I’m happy to help." 

He leaned back in the chair, his eyes roaming over her face, his favorite thing to do. Watching her was the best part of being around her.  He could see the tension in her shoulders and the uncertainty in her expression, and it made him wonder what was going on in that head of hers. Why she was so apprehensive. Yeah, he knew he had a weird dynamic with her before, but no one thought of him as a bad guy.

The longer he looked, the longer Harry could tell that there was something bothering her, and he wanted to find out what. Call it morbid curiosity, but it was needed. He leaned forward a bit, his eyes locked on her pretty face.

"You seem a little tense." He said, his voice soft. "Is everything okay? You've been quiet since we got back."

She hadn’t expected him to call her out on it, but she should have. Harry was as blunt as they came, and she could have laughed at it if she didn’t feel a little anxious. 

“I’m okay.” She wrapped her arms around herself, looking at her feet for a moment the soft green ladybug socks he had given her a laugh over. “I’m a little anxious, I guess. This new dynamic kind of… put me off kilter.” The confession hung in the air before she continued.  “I’m used to you being annoying and… I dunno. It’s unfair of me, but I keep getting nervous that this is some joke to you and you’re gonna go back to being obnoxious once I let my guard down.” She winced. “And I’m sorry. That isn’t fair to you when I know I haven’t been the nicest to you either. But I guess you intimidate me a little.”

Harry listened intently as she spoke, his expression softening as she revealed the source of the troubled look on her face. He knew that he had been a bit of an arse in the past too, and he could understand why his sudden change in behavior had thrown her off. 

He leaned forward on his hands, his gaze still fixed on the girl’s tense stance, lips rolled into her mouth. "I get it." He said quietly. "And I’m sorry if I intimidated you or made you uncomfortable. That’s the last thing I wanted to do."  He ran a hand through his hair, sighing softly. "And as for this being a joke... it’s not. Not in the slightest. Trust me."

“I guess I’m a little confused too.” She admitted. “Where all of this is coming from. I know we hooked up a few weeks ago, but you didn’t call me or anything after. I wasn’t expecting you to, don’t get me wrong, but then I felt awkward seeing you at all the events and stuff and you were acting normal. I never let you get alone with me on purpose because I didn’t want to hear you tease me for giving into you.”

Harry’s expression soured a bit as she brought up the hook-up. He knew he hadn’t done anything to dispel her doubts about his intentions, and he felt a pang of regret.  He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. How could he explain it without sounding as stupid as he felt? “I know I didn’t call you after, and I should have. I was an idiot… I just… I thought maybe you wanted me to chase a bit, that the ball had been left in your court after I dropped you off at home and… and I didn’t think, honestly.”  He ran a hand through his hair, a frustrated sigh escaping his lips. 

“You have to understand why I’m a little uneasy.” With arms wrapped around herself, she let herself look back up at him. There was no trace of joking on his features and it did make her feel a tad bit better.  “It’s not that I didn’t like… what we did.” It was the best she’d ever had. “But I think I’m not cut out for just hooking up. I don’t regret it, even if I acted like I did.” She decided to give him a tiny bit of her vulnerability to see what he did with it. “I just know that hooking up, for me, never ends well. And I don’t know you really well, Harry.” She fiddled with the hem of her shirt, nerves shot. The last thing she wanted to do was seem desperate about locking him down or something, but she couldn’t lie to him or herself.

“I’m not trying to make you feel any sort of pressure to want to date me or anything. I’m just trying to lay down a boundary that for me, I think I’m one of those people that really needs an intimate connection and trust with someone. For some reason I trusted you that night, and I know you wouldn’t harm me in that way, but sobered up and standing in front of you, I feel a little apprehensive. Like, I don’t want you to feel any sort of pressure from me, but in order to have me in the way you said you want… it has to have some level of commitment is basically what I’m trying to say.”

Harry listened intently as she laid down the boundaries, his expression thoughtful. He could see the vulnerability in her eyes and in the way she fidgeted with her shirt, and it tugged at his heart in a way he hasn't felt before.  The last thing he wanted was for her to feel any sort of regret and he was glad she hadn’t so far, but he had to appreciate her laying out the law here. It gave him direction on where to go. When she finished speaking, he took a moment to process the words before responding. He can feel the seriousness of the conversation, and it's clear that she wasn’t making demands lightly.

He took a deep breath, his own vulnerability on display in his honest gaze. It was imperative to him that she understood how much he got it. How dedicated he would be to it if given the chance. "I understand." He said quietly, licking over his bottom lip. "I understand that you need a committed relationship, darling. I also understand that you need trust and intimacy in order to get there." he added, his voice soft. 

He took a moment to organize his thoughts, then continued speaking. It should be laid out in front of her. “You know, I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately… about us, I mean.”

“What do you mean?” She asked quietly, taking the moment to look him in the eye. It was the most serious she had ever seen him. Usually he had that smirk on his face, so smug or teasing, he’d be poking and prodding at her to get a reaction- but nothing about this interaction was insincere. It was almost off putting to see him this way.

Harry's gaze met hers, his eyes intense. "I mean that I've been thinking about us in a more serious way." he admitted.  He took a deep breath, his expression tentative. "I know I've been kind of hot and cold with you… and I know that I've played games in the past. But after we hooked up… I really couldn’t stop thinking about you. How different we were like that… How good it felt. So I want you to know that... I don’t want to play games with you. I want t’be serious about this."

Y/N hadn’t expected that answer. In all honesty she thought he’d reject her, say he wasn’t into it and keep it moving. That was what she was prepared for- not this. That sort of confession had her realizing that maybe she really didn’t know him at all. She knew some parts, sure, but seeing him like this was brand new. This man in front of her was a familiar stranger, at least this new side.

“I’d have to get to know you better.” She brushed her hair behind her ear, giving him a tentative look. “And it would be a little slow. I think I could give you a chance, though. I’ve been unfair to you, I think. I feel like we… kind of got off on the wrong foot.”

Harry lets out a small sigh of relief, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “I’m okay with slow.” he says, his voice sincere. “I’m willing to work for it.”

He leaned back a bit, giving her a little more space as a hint of his usual playfulness returned to his features.. “And I think you’re right… we got off on the wrong foot. But I’m glad we’re taking the time to get to know each other now.”

——-

—— 

Harry was coming over again. 

It was strange. Since they’d agreed to explore something romantic, seriously, he had changed. Not completely, not to the point where she wondered who he was before, but enough to make her soften up. Hints of him being a pain in the ass we’re still there. But he was… sweet. Genuine. A little silly in a cute way that she hadn’t allowed herself to enjoy before. 

One of the biggest shocks of all, was the fact that he was so gentle with her. He handled her with care, even if he was a little overly touchy. She was getting used to it because she found herself liking it, but he was the first guy to really be a bit of a clinger. 

That was the last thing she had ever expected from him.

His touches were soft and sweet and he looked at her with this little twinkle in his eye that she knew he couldn’t genuinely fake it. He liked her- liked her , liked her. 

She was still a bit shy with him, but it was slowly melting away each time they saw each other. Now the nerves were barely there, being overtaken by anticipation and excitement. It wasn’t something she’d ever thought would happen- being excited and antsy to see Harry, wanting him back in her house. 

He was coming over tonight and she had been prepping for a bit, primping and priming herself even though she wanted to look casual. There was never once so far that he hadn’t told her she looked gorgeous, and it had started becoming part of her daily routine. She wanted to impress him, make him say it again and mean it.

Her tummy twisted as she heard his car door slam shut, smiling to herself as she adjusted her cropped top and went towards the door. 

He was beautiful. Really, gorgeous as she opened the door to reveal him in the early evening light. He looked a little tired from work,slight bags under his eyes, but his smile melted her a little as he walked right into the house, dropping his bag in the foyer with little care for its well-being and picked her up in a big hug. Her feet dangled as she squealed, strong arms wrapped around her waist as he lifted her effortlessly. 

“Hi.” She beamed shyly, feeling him set her down on the floor.

Harry couldn’t help but grin as he placed her down, his strong arms wrapping around her waist lazily.. He loved how delicate she felt in his arms, and he loved the way she squealed with surprise as he lifted her up a bit. Really, he loved most things that had to do with her. Taking a moment to admire her cozy appearance, his gaze lingered on her cropped top. “Hi.” He replied, his voice soft and warm. “You look beautiful.”

Like clockwork.

Before she could respond, Harry was pulling her back into a hug, burying his face in her shoulder as he held her, rocking slightly. A prime example of how touchy he was, unable to stop himself. He nuzzled her neck, letting his cool nose brush against the hot skin. “I missed you.” he mumbled, his voice muffled against her, leaving a little shiver in it’s wake..

When he said things like that it made her want to giggle madly, but also melt into a puddle. He truly meant it, was the thing, and she had a hard time understanding how this had happened. How he had gone from her little enemy to the person she looked toward to seeing the most. 

“I missed you too.” She admitted, fingers tracing down his back. It was an attempt to get more open about her feelings. Harry was being candid about his own, so she felt like she could extend him the same grace. Even if it was slightly terrifying, she had no reason to hold back anymore.

Harry pulled back slightly to look at her, a soft smile on his lips at her shy admission. "I like it when you say that." he teased, his voice low.  He brought his hands up to rest on her hips, his thumbs tracing small circles on the bare skin. He loved the way the cropped top revealed just enough to make him want more, and he found himself struggling to focus on anything but the feel of her body under his hands.

Harry wanted her, and there was obvious desire for her there. In all honesty, there was a lot of desire for her in general that he had done his best to keep under wraps  He’d been so good, trying so hard to prove himself- but that didn’t mean he was a saint. He was beyond attracted to her in every sense of the word, and it was hard to ignore that..

“Excuse me.” She let her smile grow, her tone playful. “My eyes are up here.” 

Y/N knew Harry wanted her in all of the ways, and he’d been exceedingly patient. He knew she was trying to build their connection before getting intimate with him again, and she appreciated it- but that didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy knowing he desired her. 

Or that she didn’t have those same urges.

Harry's gaze flicked back up to meet hers, a cheeky grin on his face. "I know where your eyes are. I look at them plenty, do I not?" He replied smoothly, his hands still resting on her waist, giving a gentle squeeze.  He couldn't help but let out a small laugh as she shot him a look, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "But you can't expect me to ignore the rest of you when you're wearing something as distracting as that." Testing the waters, he was seeing how far his flirtation could go.

“It’s loungewear, you freak.” She scoffed, a hint of a smile turning up her lips. Leggings and a cropped top were a bit of a reward for him, though. She figured if he had been so patient with her then he could at least get to look at her. “But I’m glad you like it.” 

Taking his hand in her smaller one, she led him towards the kitchen to show him the pizza boxes and salad she had made to pair with it, feeling weirdly shy about it. That was the theme of today, considering she had come to a conclusion in her head- but he didn’t need to know about it quite yet. “I knew you’d be hungry when you got off work, so I ordered ahead.”

Harry's eyes lit up as he saw the food, warmth spreading through him. No one had been thoughtful like that to him before, but of course she would be. This sort of thing was why he had liked her. He’d seen it time and time again with their other friends and secretly wished for some of it for himself, that sort of care… and now that he got it, he felt that yearning for her get a little bit stronger. He let out a low whistle. "You knew exactly what I needed." he murmured, a grateful smile on his lips. 

Pulling her into him, his arms wrapping around her waist from behind. He nuzzled her neck again, his breath warm on her skin. "You're too good to me." he murmured, his voice showing just how grateful he was.

Y/N shivered slightly as he spoke against her skin, large arms wrapping around her and making her feel that same brand of delicacy that only Harry had been able to accomplish. His arms were just… beautiful. Built and muscular, covered in those tattoos, she loved every single thing about them. Looking at them, feeling them, how he used them… she couldn’t admit it out loud yet, but being in his arms was one of her new favorite places. 

“You texted and said you didn’t sleep well and you had a rougher day at work and… I dunno. I thought maybe you’d like something ready when you came over. I would have cooked myself but I had a workshop.” She rambled on a little bit, feeling the need to overexplain herself.

Harry squeezed her tighter, his chin resting on her shoulder. He inhaled her scent, his nose buried in hair as she spoke. 

"Mmm. " He hummed, his voice low and gravelly. He ran his nose over her throat, lips brushing against the sensitive skin. "You didn't have to do all this, you know." He moved his hands down over her hips, his thumbs tracing soft circles on the exposed skin there. "But I'm really grateful you did." He was quiet for a moment before speaking again, his grip on her tightening slightly. "Can I ask you somethin’?"

“Hm?” She replied. It was hard to focus. Sure, it would be awkward if anyone else say them just standing in her kitchen with the large man wrapped around her body, but no one else was there to judge her for indulging both herself and him in this sort of cuddle. 

Harry's body was pressed against her, a small smile on his lips. He really did enjoy this moment of quiet intimacy just as much as he enjoyed the more energetic moments where they’d go out or he’d help her take care of her garden.

"Can I stay over tonight?"

It should have been a scarier question to her, all things considered, but the answer came out of her mouth naturally. 

“Sure.” She nodded. There was no second guessing it either. “Is that what that bag was?” She realized he had brought in a bigger duffle than his usual work one, but she had thought it was maybe just to change from his work clothes.

Harry's smile grew as she agreed so easily. "Mhmm." he hummed, his voice low. His hands moved up her sides, tracing the curve of her waist. "I wanted to be prepared just in case you said yes." Presumptuous? He’d prefer the terms hopeful, even confident. They’d been doing so well, he had to at least ask.

He pulled back slightly, looking down at her with a hint of a smirk on his face. "So... where can I sleep?"

He turned her in his grip, letting her look up at his face now with narrowed eyes. Her heartbeat quickened though she tried to calm it down. He was teasing her a little bit, but he did genuinely want to know. 

“If you promise no extreme funny business… you can sleep in my bed.” She placed her hand on his bicep, squeezing a little. It was her own reward. “But remember, Harry. No sex. Okay?” Gliding her other hand up to cuff over the back of his neck, she decided it was finally time to tease him back a bit. “However… If you’re really, really nice to me… I may let you kiss me again.”

Harry's smile widened, his eyes sparkling with a hint of challenge. He leaned down, bringing his face closer to the girl’s.  "You're being bold, darling." he teased, his voice low and playful. "Are you trying to tempt me?"

“A little.” She hummed. “I like when you’re sweet to me. So if you keep it up, I’ll let you kiss me as long as you’d like tonight. I know I’ve been holding all of that intimacy hostage…” 

It had been driving him wild. Near kisses and her letting him brush his hand over the curve of her ass a few times before putting them back up to her hips, he’d tested the waters but got rejected. Now, she was loosening up a bit. 

“So.” She blinked up at him. “Are you gonna be nice to me tonight so you can kiss me?”

Harry's eyes glinted with a mixture of desire and playful mischief. He loved it when she teased him just as much as he loved it when she got all shy and flustered. Which one he likes more, he couldn’t tell. "Oh, I'll be so nice to you tonight you won't be able to stand it." he purred, his voice low and husky. 

He wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her closer until their bodies were flush against each other. "But I have one condition, little miss."

“What is that?” She questioned, unsure what it could be. With him, it could be anything.

"You have to promise me that if I'm being too... forward, you'll tell me to back off. I don't want to overstep. Even though I want to kiss you until you can't think straight. So promise me you'll speak up if I get too much." 

Her smile widened, nodding in agreement. He’d just earned himself quite a few points. Never had she expected him to be as respectful as he was, but she utterly adored it.  “I will. I promise, I’ll tell you.” She agreed, leaning up to kiss the curve of his jaw. “But it’s time for you to eat. I can feel your tummy grumbling.”

Harry let out a low chuckle, his eyes flickering over her pretty face. He loved the way her smile widened, and the feeling of her plump lips against his jaw send a shiver down his spine. More. He wanted more, and more, until their mouths were tingling and numb. Until she looked drunk on the kisses, clinging to him like he could only hope.

"Mmm. Okay, fine." he grumbled. "I'll eat. But only if you feed me, since you were so kind as to order ahead for me." He gave her a puppy-dog look, his lower lip jutted out in a mock-pout. It was good, she’s give him that- but not good enough.

“Absolutely not.” She snorted. “Nice try.”

[obsessedwithceleste]

Til It’s Gone

Theodore Nott x reader

Based on this cute lil request 🤗

Summary: It seemed like they’d always been there. An ever-growing thorn in Theodore’s side. He really didn’t realize what he’d had until it was gone. (Happy ending I swear)

word count: 3.2k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

Theo let out a heavy sigh as he slumped into his seat, ignoring the cheery smile on your face as you turned to face him.

“Hi Theodore!” You chirped brightly, gaze landing on the tall brunette boy coming to sit next to you.

Salazar, here we go, Theo thought bitterly.

“Theo.”

“Right. Theo. How was your day?” You continued on, seemingly oblivious to his indifference as you scribbled mindlessly on your parchment.

Theodore wasn’t stupid. Quite the opposite in fact. He knew you liked him. That much you’d made rather obvious. Especially as of late. If saving him a seat everyday in this miserable class didn’t make it clear to everyone that you had a certain affection for the boy, then the notes dropped in his bag, or kisses blown from across the Great Hall certainly did.

The only reason Theo even accepted sitting next to you was because the seat was positioned perfectly to be just outside of Professor Binns’ field of vision, saving him the work of pretending to care about whatever topic the professor was rattling on about.

“I don’t see why you even put up with it all,” Mattheo often said. “Just reject them and move on with it.”

“Or at least stop sitting with them. You’re only encouraging them,” Enzo would add.

Yet, here he was, still sat lazily in the seat next to you. Theo didn’t particularly care that you fancied him to be quite honest. He’d gotten used to the same pattern of stoically ignoring your chatter, copying your carefully organized notes, and leaving. So long as you weren’t too annoying, he didn’t see the harm in sticking around. Besides it’s not like you weren’t easy on the eyes. And he supposed there was something to be said about the confidence with which you acted that set you apart from the general hoard of girls harboring similar feelings.

“Theo?”

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts as he glances at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Fine.” He replied tersely before turning once more to stare blankly ahead.

He’d changed his mind. Absolutely not. This was horrible. At this point, Theo wasn’t even sure if you actually liked him, or were only claiming you did as an excuse to see how much you could embarrass him.

“Mate, this is getting to be Weaselette levels of weird,” Draco said as their group stared in horror at the third year who had approached them warily in the halls with a poem to read aloud in hand.

Theo visibly shuddered, remembering the awful valentine the youngest Weasley had sent Saint Potter a few years prior.

“Save everyone the embarrassment and walk away now, kid,” Draco told the boy. “Go on. Scram.”

The third year didn’t need to be told twice and quickly darted off, away from the group of Slytherin boys.

“It isn’t even 8am mate. Where does that girl get the time to do all this?” Enzo grumbles as they made their way into the Great Hall for breakfast.

Theo simply ignores his friend’s comments, something he was getting used to doing, as they all sat down at their usual table.

They’d all seemed to have an opinion on you as soon as it became apparent that you had developed a crush on him, and Theo had just about had enough of his friend’s seemingly endless comments regarding his not so secret admirer.

The familiar small parcel tied neatly with a white ribbon that sat waiting for Theodore in his usual spot didn’t go unnoticed, starting the whole thing up again.

“For Salazar’s sake Theo, do you not find it creepy?” Draco asks, eyeing the package.

Theo rolled his eyes at his dramatic friend.

“I don’t care. You all seem to be more interested in y/n’s little stunts than I am, and I’m the one they’re intended for. They’re harmless. Just leave it and they’ll probably get bored eventually.”

“Yeah, or they’ll just keep it up thinking you’re playing all hard to get or what not,” Mattheo snorts.

Theo just glares at his friend, stabbing a sausage with his fork. Just behind Matt’s head, seated at a table with your own friends, Theo sees you blow a kiss his way, winking cheekily.

“Aw, they growing on you? Who would’ve thought dark and broody would be into golden girl herself,” Mattheo teases, earning him a sharp kick from under the table.

“Morning Theodore,” you greet, as the brooding boy once again took his seat beside you, this time in potions.

“It’s Theo.”

“That’s what I said.”

You hear the boy let out a small snort and you smile to yourself. That was one of the biggest reactions you’d been able to get out of the boy.

Your friends often wondered why you so insistently pursued the grumpy Slytherin boy, despite his general apathy towards you, and honestly, it was as simple as the fact that you enjoyed the challenge.

It was like your own little game of cat and mouse. Constantly finding little ways to make the boy smile, even if he didn’t realize it was you. And the rush of excitement you got anytime you were able to elicit any sort of reaction from the boy was like a drug that kept you coming back for more.

You’d found that the best way to elicit such reactions was by staging little acts of public affection whether it be a kiss sent his way or an origami note perched on his desk. Each time, you could see the heat rise softly in the boy’s cheeks as he tried desperately to keep it at bay, sometimes even fighting back a small smile.

Today you had come to class a bit early in order to set up both you and Theo’s potion stations before the brown haired Slytherin arrived, taking extra care to gather enough ingredients for each of your potions. You weren’t even sure he realized that you were doing all this for him, but watching his satisfied smile as he brewed away made it worth it.

That was another thing you had grown to appreciate about the boy. While his friends were all rather light-minded and rowdy, his wit and level-headedness balanced out the group. Theo was smart, and didn't feel the need to make a point about it, flying under the radar of many of your classmates when it came to who had the best marks. Sure it was fun to tease the boy, but you also had a certain admiration for him that went deeper then the nonserious way you often conducted yourself around him.

The rest of the class passed in a sort of agreed upon silence as you worked on your potions. Of course you’d like to talk to Theo a bit, but you’d found he’d preferred the silence, usually not uttering more than a few words to you per class. It was something you could work on eventually you supposed.

“See you later Theodore,” you said brightly once you had finished gathering up your things. Joining your group of friends, you toss one last wave over your shoulder at the boy, smiling to yourself. He hadn’t bothered to correct you for once.

The last thing Theo expected while roaming the dusty shelves of the library was to hear his own name being whispered from deeper within the maze of books he was searching through. The library was where he went to escape his friend’s incessant gossip about the rest of the school’s population, yet he was interested in what was being said about him. He didn’t often venture outside his usual group of Slytherins, so he didn’t know exactly what he expected to hear.

Following the loud whispers, Theo stopped, looming in the shadows once he was able to make out the dark figures of students huddled in one of the many rows of books.

“Sure Theo might be one of the most attractive boys in our year, but his head is so far up his own arse, it’s a wonder he can see straight.” A voice practically snarled as its owner leaned lazily against one of the shelves.

Theo felt himself immediately tense. Is that what they thought now? His fists clenched as he refrained from crashing through the shelves to give these snots a piece of his mind.

“Honestly, being an arrogant prick isn’t something to be proud of. He’s just like every other Slytherin who makes being a pure blood their only personality trait.” Another voice adds.

“Oh fuck off you two.”

Theo’s ears perk up, surprised to hear your voice join the chatter.

“Please, like you’re one to talk y/n. You’re practically blinded by desperation. Theo Nott is an utter prat and he treats you like shit. Have some bloody self respect.”

“I’m not desperate, you git. And Theodore isn’t an arrogant prick. There’s nothing wrong with having a little bit of pride. It’s not like you see him going around bragging about how amazing he is. If you’re going to talk about arrogant pricks, talk about Cormac. Or Draco even.”

“Whatever. That still doesn’t excuse his behavior towards you. I don’t understand why you insist on embarrassing yourself when he clearly has no interest in you. But he’s too much of a coward to say anything.”

“Oh for the love of- Theodore doesn’t owe anyone anything. Me included. I do the things I do because I can and I want to, and quite frankly it isn’t anyone else’s business but my own. So why don’t you two get your heads out of your own arses and stop worrying about me, and stop worrying about Theodore.”

With that, Theo listened as your footsteps slowly got quieter as you stomped away, your words ringing in his head.

Theo had never been in love before. But in that moment, he was beginning to see the appeal. Fuck that was hot as hell.

For Theo, it all spiraled down from there as he finally began to see you. Really see you. And not just as some girl who had a silly crush on him.

It started with the notes. He hadn’t noticed before, but it wasn’t just him that you’d slip a note to in the hallway. After one particularly difficult transfiguration exam, Theo watched as you dropped a note with a chocolate candy attached into the bags of your friends.

Another day, he arrived to potions early to find you carefully setting up his station as he hovered in the doorway. After class, he didn’t rush out like he normally would and instead watched as you quietly slipped an extra copy of your notes to a student he knew struggled with the class.

And while you weren’t exactly blowing kisses to all of your friends across the Great Hall, Theo began to notice the way you didn’t hesitate to throw your arms around your friends, hugging them tightly when you got excited. Or grasping onto a hand as you wandered through Hogsmeade, arms swinging in carefree bliss.

It was about a month after Theo had begun his silent observations that he began to feel it. The slow pull away as your presence began to fade from his life. He almost didn’t notice at first. It had been about a week since he’d last found a note in his bag, or parcel waiting for him on his seat. You still smiled brightly at him if your eyes met from across the Great Hall, but now that he thought about it, Theo couldn’t remember the last time you’d blown a kiss his way.

It all came to a head the day Theo walked into History of Magic to see one of your friends sitting next to you in his usual seat, chattering away.

“Nice mate, they finally get the message?” Mattheo asks with a grin, elbowing him in the ribs.

Theo remained silent as he followed his friend to a seat in the back, eyes not leaving the spot where he should be sitting.

It continued on like this for what Theo thought was eternity. Salazar he missed you. Weeks passed filled with sleepless nights where he would stare at the ceiling contemplating where he had gone wrong. At the very beginning really, he thought dryly, remembering his initial feelings of agitation and annoyance. He wished he could go back and give himself a good smack upside the head.

The day Theo passed you in the hall and you didn’t even spare him a passing glance was the day Theo finally broke.

“Lorenzo.” He said, slamming the door of their dormitory open, startling his roommate.

“Theodore?”

Theo glares at the use of the name.

“You’re the romantic type. How do I do it?” Theo asked as he stomped his way over to his bed.

With a bemused look, Enzo swings around to look at his roommate, wondering if one of the ghosts had somehow possessed him.

“You want to know. How to do romance?” Enzo asks slowly, not fully believing he’d heard his friend correctly. Theo was probably one of the most emotionally detached people he’d ever met.

“Yes. Y/n. I want to make it up to her.”

"I thought we didn't like her?" Enzo said, growing more concerned for his friend's mental state by the minute.

"We didn't. But now we do, and I want to make things right."

Enzo blinked. Oh this was not going to be easy.

As you sat in the court yard with a group of your friends, textbooks in hand as you attempted to study for the charms test the next day, your eyes flickered momentarily as a sea of green wandered by. Quickly you look away before your eyes could meet Theo’s and you try to turn your attention back to your friend’s idle chatter.

It had been what? A month since you’d stopped actively seeking out the boy’s attention. Maybe more. And you missed him. His sarcastic smiles and pretty eyes that seemed to be fixed in a permanent glare.

But you were also tired. Mostly tired of the snarky comments. “Have some self respect.” “So desperate.” The voices of your classmates echoed in your head, and eventually you began to draw back. You knew he’d noticed. You’d seen his eyebrows furrow in confusion that day you’d let your friend sit beside you in class. A pang of guilt washing over you. But it’s not like he showed any signs of wanting things to go back to the way they were. So you simply stayed away. Maybe that’s what he’d wanted all along.

Your thoughts followed you as you eventually made your way back to your dormitory, wanting nothing more than to wrap yourself up in a warm blanket and disappear. As you approach your bed however, you make out something that definitely wasn’t there when you’d left that morning. A gorgeous bouquet of little white flowers wrapped in thick brown paper, tied off with a silky emerald green ribbon. Stamped on the corner of one of the brown folds, the letters TN shown at you in gold curls.

“Oh those are beautiful!” Your roommate gasps when she sees the flowers. “Lily of the valley! Those can symbolize renewal ya know. Usually they’re given as like, an apology of sorts, or if someone wants to start over.” She tells you. Ever the herbology buff. “Who are they from?”

A smile grows on your lips as her words sink in and you press the flowers close to your chest.

“Just a special friend,” you reply.

After all the months of Theo's coldness towards you, you'd never quite allowed yourself to truly believe the boy would ever return your affection, but maybe things were beginning to look up.

Over the course of the next several days, you begin to notice little things that had Theodore’s name written all over them.

After the charms exam the following day, you find a note of encouragement written in Theo’s familiar scrawl dropped in your bag along with a bag of your favorite toffees. How he’d managed to get it there without you noticing was beyond you.

There were little things too. Your stations in herbology and astronomy were always set up and waiting for you when you walked into class. The book on ancient runes that you’d been searching for showed up on your bedside table. (You weren’t sure how he was doing that either, but you weren’t about to question it.) And there always seemed to be a comfortable smirk on Theodore’s face whenever your eyes wandered over to where he sat with his friends, eyes seemingly boring into you.

Now, you sat quietly in your own little nook of the library, quill in hand as you scribbled away at your ancient runes essay, the book Theo left you being quite helpful.

You were happy he'd found his way back into your life, happier still that he was actually making a point to be included in your life.

“You don’t mind do you?” A voice asks, startling you and causing ink to splatter against the parchment.

With shocked eyes, you look up to see Theodore standing next your table as if your thoughts had summoned him there. He sets his books down, frowning at your now ruined paper.

With a flick of his wand, the mess is gone.

“Sorry bout that,” he mutters, sitting down across from you.

You blink, not entirely convinced you’re not hallucinating.

“You know, I remember you being much more talkative,” he says, a sly smirk reaching across his face as you realize you’ve yet to say anything to the boy.

“I remember you being significantly less talkative,” you blurt out before quickly covering your mouth with your hand in horror.

To your relief, the boy in front of you lets out a low laugh.

"Fair enough. See you've been liking the book," he says, gesturing towards the open text.

"Oh yeah, I've been meaning to say something, thank you."

"Don't worry bout it. I never said thank you for all the things you did. Probably should've." He replies, looking down as he pulls out his own quill and parchment. "I am sorry by the way."

"For?" You ask, head tilting to the side in curiosity.

"Everything. Or for doing nothing is probably more accurate," he says, flipping open his text book.

You can tell that he's nervous as he fidgets with the corners of the book's pages, and you desperately want to ease the tension between the two of you.

A moment of silence passes between the two of you as you debate whether or not to say anything more, or go back to your essay. Finally, you look up at the boy that you had been chasing after for all these months, and remind yourself that he had actually been the one to go through all the trouble of seeking you out tonight.

Gathering your courage, you open your mouth to speak. "Theodore?"

"Yes, Bella?" he replies, eyes carefully following the lines of next.

"Would you like to join me in Hogsmeade this weekend?"

His eyes snap up at this, and you see the familiar hint of red make it's way into his cheeks once more.

"Only if I can have my seat back in History of Magic." The boy replies.

"I think I can have that arranged."

Hi hi hi! I hope this lives up to all of your hopes and dreams, anon 🫶🏽

[tinietaehyun]

Whims of the Wicked

[Cheshirecat!Taehyun x Lost!Reader] [Wondrous Tales] [One-shot] [Series]

Pairing: Cheshirecat!Taehyun x Lost!Reader

Genre(s): Fantasy, dark fantasy, supernatural, dark romance, action, thriller, Alice in Wonderland inspired.

Contains: Profanity, mention of hallucination, spores, delusions, existential dread, asphyxiation, gaslighting, manipulation, obsessive behaviour.

Links: Wondrous Tales Masterlist || Masterlist

Note: Thank you all so much for the wonderful support on this one-shot series, I’m so glad you enjoyed them all! I hope you enjoy the last instalment of these one-shots!

Summary: You break the loop and take the Hatter off guard by your boldness, managing to somehow bypass his riddles and games. With all your remaining strength, you run deliriously, where? You don’t know.

All you know is the thousands of signs reading and pointing to an “exit” were taunting you. You couldn’t believe them. Not anymore, you couldn’t believe anyone, or anything in this world. You were not stupid enough to follow those damn signs and so, you go the opposite path. Into the Dark Woods.

Finding yourself even more lost and the last of your sanity crumbling away, the pollen in the air making you feel hazy, you’re startled to hear a voice, “Well, well, well, what a pretty thing has stepped into my woods today. Has no one told you I don’t like trespassers, hm?” Your eyes snap up to a man lounging in the branches above with a wide grin, “Don’t look so scared, I don’t bite too hard.”

Arrows. Lots of them. Bewildered, you continue walking seeing the hundreds of decaying wooden sign posts with crooked arrows pointing down a path. Exit signs supposedly.

However, after your delightful time in Wonderland so far, you knew those arrows were far from the exit, and far from pleasant. In fact they’d probably lead you even deeper into this hellhole and make you lose your sanity entirely. You certainly were on the precipice of losing it for sure.

Thus, you find your feet sharply walking in the opposite path. The path twisting and winding toward the Dark Woods, the home of the infamous Cheshire Cat. Well, infamous to everyone here, not you, you didn’t know him at all. Though, through your time here, you’d heard more about the Red King of Hearts more than him.

Perhaps that wasn’t exactly a good thing. It makes you anxious in fact, knowing so little. The Hatter and the King, you were anticipating but this…whoever this was, you had absolutely no idea. Your eyes drift to the murky, misty and dark woods up ahead. Living in a place, so dark, decrepit…such a stark contrast to the vibrant and colourful landscape of Wonderland - it makes you think, truly what would this individual be capable of?

Could you make it past him too, in a twist of fate, like you did the Hatter? You don’t know. Just something deep inside your gut, instinct, you could call it, made you feel borderline nauseous. What monster lurked in those woods. The crooked and jagged silhouette of the trees was already enough to spook you.

The path gradually grows crunchier, less neatly trimmed and pretty morphing into dark dirt, with decaying leaves and dark green and black foliage. Oh…how pleasant indeed. It almost looked like the real world (whether that was a good thing or not, was debatable!)

The trees seem to loom over you as you approach closer and chill runs up your spine making your hairs stand on end. The energy here was ominous, making you alert, even the slightest crunch in your footsteps seem to startle you. Every noise, every breath of yours seemed to be just a little louder than normal.

No birds chirping, no scurrying squirrels, not a single glimpse of a deer or even the buzz of a bee. Nothing. Just the trees and decaying leaf litter below your feet which seemed to sound like you were stepping on bones rather than just leaves, but you didn’t want to think too much into it. How on earth did that one escapee get here and make it out?

This place…it was just so different. So isolated, so secluded away from everything, almost like its own pocket dimension or liminal space unaffected by the insanity inducing tendrils of Wonderland. In fact…as odd as it was, whilst yes, you were shaking in your boots, so to speak, you were also relatively…calm.

Almost as if your fractured psyche was not so fractured, or well almost on a time-out of sorts. Your sanity was almost…suspended. An eerie anxiety inducing calmness within you - the calm before the storm perhaps?

You hated this feeling but simultaneously it was a welcome reprieve from your brain getting turned to utter mush and your perception of- well, everything becoming distorted.

You peer up at the sky, that sunset now moving far too fast for your liking (maybe the sun being stuck in one place was more beneficial for you than you had initially anticipated); the thought of being stuck wandering in here at night, not good. Not good at all. It was already dim, murky and misty enough.

Well fuck. You made it this far, that was certainly something right? Your heart pounds against your chest and shaky breaths leave your quivering lips. Was it just you or did it get rather cold?

No, no it wasn’t, you could see your breaths smoke and swirl in the air as you released them. Okay, good to know you weren’t quite insane just yet. It actually had gotten colder.

You find yourself walking a little faster. You yelp feeling a cold caress on the back of your neck. Was that merely the breeze? Oh fuck. You snap your head to the left - you heard a rustle there. To the right - a snap of a twig. With ragged breaths, you speed up your pace.

‘Run, run, run, pretty thing.’ A whisper crawls up your ear canal and you scream.

The world around you morphs and the trees seem to wane and grow, the spiky, crooked arms seeming to reach out towards you. Were those eyes or just the swirl of the bark? Is that a mouth or just a hole in the tree? Why did the ground feel so unstable?

With closer inspection, why did this air seem to have minuscule specs of white pollen suspended in the air. Had you been breathing all this in? Why wasn’t it there before? Your head pounds in disorientation. Every direction, every tree looked the same.

You grimace, clutching your head and crouching attempting to pitifully ground yourself, “Ah…shit, my head…” Scratch everything you had said before. This place was not relaxing by any means! You couldn’t even think straight anymore.

‘Confused?’ A whisper to your left taunts. ‘Dizzy?’ Another whisper behind you sneers. You frantically peer around only to see nothing. Your heart erratically palpitates in your ribcage, your mind attempts to make sense of the situation.

Taunting whispers, snickers, the rustle of bushes and phantom footsteps. You were going insane! You let out a yell of frustration, piercing through the forest.

A tsking mock resounds behind you making you spin around. You probably looked quite like a lunatic flailing around so pathetically. ‘Tsk, tsk, I didn’t think our newest guest was such a scaredy cat.’

You shakily yell, “Where are you? W-Who are you?” You knew who it was but had to confirm it. It had to be the Cheshire Cat! You hadn’t even seen him yet and here he was toying with you as if you were ball of yarn akin to a cat’s paws!

A malevolent giggle resounds out making a shiver travel down your spine. ‘Mm-mm, now that’s more like it! What a lovely little voice you have…’

A cold breeze brushes against your cheek and neck making you shiver. ‘So pretty too, what a shame; the others didn’t even bother to tell me there was a new guest? Then again, most never make it this far. So…that must make you even more special, hm?’

You snap, your senses becoming more and more delirious, “Show yourself!” A low chuckle reverberates as the mysterious voice muses, ‘Are you sure you want that? Don’t you think it’s safer for you if I remain hidden? But oh well, since you insist. Who am I to deny such a pretty thing, their wish?’ Oh hell no! You should’ve kept your mouth shut!

You begin sprinting, weaving your way through the brambles and foliage, feeling the branches tug at your clothes, scrape against your skin. You had to get out of here, escape these taunting voices, icy touches.

Everything seems to converge, everything looked the same, waning shadows, smiling trees, the darkening sky. It felt as though you were spiralling into an abyss of confusion and deliriousness.

Finding yourself even more lost and the last of your sanity crumbling away, the pollen in the air making you feel hazy, you’re startled to hear the voice again, “Well, well, well, what a pretty thing has stepped into my woods today. Has no one told you I don’t like trespassers, hm?” Your eyes snap up to a man lounging in the branches above with a wide grin, “Don’t look so scared, I don’t bite too hard.”

The air escapes your lungs for a moment as you process the sight. His ebony locks fall haphazardly across his forehead, a few strands over his eyes. Those eyes. Eyes which held forbidden knowledge, secrets, desires, twisted dreams and thoughts. Murky orbs which seem to glimmer with a twinge of curiosity, malice and desire? His gaze pierces into you from his position up in the tree, lounging with his limbs weightless as though he were a big cat. A pointed nose and lush rosy lips, stretched out into a wide smile, a little too wide.

Breathless, you utter shakily, stepping back, “The…Cheshire Cat…” His eyes glimmer and brows furrow as he tilts his head ever so slowly, as though observing every little movement of yours with precision, like a feline zoned in on its pitiful prey.

He laughs sitting up, “Oh…have the others told you about me? I’m flattered, usually they ignore my existence altogether.” Well, he wasn’t exactly wrong, none of the others had mentioned him, well outrightly you suppose, or at all. Only the Blue Caterpillar had.

Your heart races, adrenaline pumping through your vessels. Was he the cause of the voices…he had to be! Your gaze flits up again and you almost jump seeing him staring at you with such intensity. You notice his sharp black nails digging into the bark of the tree.

His grin widens impossibly so; you shake your head. Was your vision going bad? Were you hallucinating- you swore you just saw rows of teeth, his lips stretched impossibly wide. How horrifying. You peer at him again to see his resting smile again, accompanied with a mischievous gaze.

“Oh? Sweet thing, you look terrified. See something you didn’t like?” He coos swinging his legs off the branch. Your heart leaps to your throat, he was going to jump down.

Instinctively, you take a step back and another. However, as fate would have it, your foot catches on a tree root and you topple backwards with a shriek. You swear that root wasn’t there earlier!

The Cheshire Cat lets out a breathy laugh before leaping down with the utmost grace, knees bearing the brunt of the force of the jump down. His hands on the dark leaf litter brace the impact, not a single sound. As quiet as a cat… he tilts his head with a menacing smile, not showing quite so many teeth this time.

He was simultaneously alluring yet terrifying creating a whirlwind of conflict within your body. You could tell. He was different. Much different. Another entity entirely from the others here. There was a whole other aura surrounding him, making you feel nauseous but you also didn’t want to leave. Wait- why didn’t you want to leave?

The Cheshire Cat murmurs, one hand moving in front of the other as he almost crawls, no-stalks towards you, “So much fear, yet so little noise. Usually, my trespassers make so much noise from their screaming; it really does hurt my sensitive ears. I hear everything, you know. For example…”

In a flash of a second, you let out a shrill yelp as he’s suddenly in front of you crouching over your outstretched legs, placing a hand over his heart with a dark gaze, “…your heart. Pretty thing, it’s beating so fast. Are you scared of me?”

Close up, he’s even more infuriatingly mesmerising, a constant smirk on his lips, eyes that held depths that you couldn’t comprehend. His skin almost glistens alluringly under the dimming sky.

He shifts closer; your eyes widening and breath hitching as he outstretches his hand cupping your jaw, not too tightly but firm enough, and pushes upward closing your lips. You have to refrain from disintegrating on the spot- how embarrassing! Your mouth was hanging open!

With a sly grin, he leans down not letting go, “Having those pretty lips parted in shock, have we? Am I that terrifying to look at or…can you not get enough of me? Which one is it?” Even his tone of voice was enough to bewitch any man or woman. Slightly elongated words, a coy edge to his voice, complete with a touch of condescending and seductive tones.

You feel his nail press into the skin of your cheek and he groans, “Oh, you’re so soft. If I press just a little harder…” you whimper as he does so, “I’d have you painted in streams of red.” A delighted laugh escapes his lips making you shudder. “…Yes, yes, oh you’d look so pretty in red.” The Cheshire Cat gazes down at your fearful eyes and muses with an almost patronising coo, “Oh don’t worry sweet thing, I’m not that cruel. I don’t get visitors often, if at all, and well, you’re a sight for sore eyes, so I won’t rip you to shreds and leave you hanging on a branch to rot.”

You grimace visibly at such a revolting thought. He releases his grip and seems to rake his gaze over you with a widening grin, “I’m the Cheshire Cat indeed, but you, you sweet thing, can call me just, Taehyun. Got that?” You say nothing, still reeling in from everything.

His expression falls off his face and he snaps darkly, “I said. Got that?” You stammer, “Y-Yes-“ “Yes, what?” He purrs. You shakily reply, “Uhm…yes, Taehyun?”

An amused laugh almost mocking escapes Taehyun’s lips, “Oh, you humans are always so easy to control. A little fear… a little raising my voice and it gets you to do whatever I ask. How endearing…”

Taehyun reaches out, taking a strand of your hair, wrapping it around his index finger in a nonchalant manner as you’re sat bruised and scraped up, frozen in fear. “You’re rather delicate aren’t you? How did a thing like you make it out this far? Yeonjun would have eaten someone like you right up. Even so, you made it past him. Impressive. Even more so, is fleeing the Hatter. Oh poor Beomgyu. I’m sure you know his pitiful plight? Oh yes, you even managed to get the White Rabbit’s head chopped didn’t you? Oh dear…quite the mess, hm?”

Your eyes widen, he knew everyone. Knew all their mannerisms, situations. He sighs observing the soft strands around his finger, “The sky’s actually darkening. Perhaps I’ll see night for the first time in a long, long time. That’s because you broke the loop right? Quite the feat.” His gaze snaps back up to yours startling you, “Aren’t you just something, oh so, special?”

You murmur tentatively as he lets go of the strand, “How- how did you-“ Taehyun cuts you off with manic glee in his eyes, “How did I know all that?” You nod slowly, shaky breaths leaving you.

“Oh sweet thing…” he leans in incredibly close, breath fanning your face, his murky irises entrancing yours as he slyly grins, “I know everything that I need to know. Even about you..”

You? About you? What? You flinch back, “About m-me? What…that’s impossible- I’m not from here.”He lets out a chuckle, “You’re not. You’re from the other world. The real world, as you call it, no? The boring monotony of humanity lies out there.”

Taehyun’s hand tilts your chin up, his lips inches from yours as he whispers tauntingly. The same as the voices from before. “…that boring old job you have. Typing away. So much dismal paperwork. The same boring routine. Coming home and lounging around, turning that white cat lamp on. Aren’t you glad you set foot here? So much more fun.”

You shake your head frantically, “No, no- absolutely not! This was the worst experience of my life,” your voice cracks, “I feel-I feel like I’m slowly going insane! I can’t stay here any longer otherwise-“ you pause. Wait. White cat lamp? How the fuck did he know that?

You stammer delirious, “How did you-?” Taehyun grins, finishing off for you, “Know that?” Your blood runs cold. He coos, “As I said before, I know, everything. The moment you set foot into this place, you let me into your mind. Let me into your fragile little psyche.” Mockingly, his taps his index against your forehead.

“This little place here, who knows? How do you know if any of this is real? What if it’s just a lucid dream, a fever dream? Oh, did you take any drugs before this?” You shake your head, eyes glazing over as a disgusting sensation of existential dread fills you. “What if you’re just hallucinating? Seeing me?”

All of a sudden he disappears. You peer around in panic. You snarl teary-eyed, “Hey! Hey Taehyun! Get back here! You can’t just-“ He left. An eerie silence permeates the air and you tremble. No. No it couldn’t be. He was just toying with you. Right?

‘Am I?’ His voice rings in your mind. You shriek, “What the fuck?” Did you hear him behind you?

‘Look to the left of you, pretty thing.’

You slowly crane your head to your left and see him standing there with a twisted smile. He blows into your ear, and you grimace scooting back, “Don’t do that!” You splutter out.

Taehyun muses, “Oh? Did you miss me too much in the seconds I was gone?” You snap, “No! I didn’t mean-“ He murmurs, “Well, lucky for you I don’t care what you meant.”

What a piece of-

All of a sudden his index finger presses against your lips and a sly grin appears on his face, “Now, now, let’s not insult me. I don’t like being insulted, Y/n.” Fuck. Even knew your name!

The Cheshire Cat could read your mind. He really did mean that he knew everything. Taehyun really did mean that you let him into your mind!

A breathy laugh escapes his lips, “My, my, having a mental crisis?” He leans down with a dark gaze, “Don’t worry, I won’t pry into your filthiest crevices full of your precious secrets,” he pouts, “I’m not that cruel, you see. Everyone’s entitled to privacy of course, well, that and I’m not feeling that curious. Yet.”

Taehyun sits back leaning back onto his palms with a coy smile, “Ah, I’m beginning to get rather bored now. Should we play a game?” You shake your head frantically with your hands clasped together. “No, no, please. No more games…I can’t handle anymore. I beg.” You couldn’t take it.

Taehyun pouts with a condescending tone, “Aw, is Wonderland’s newest guest tired of playing already? The others must have done quite the number on you then, if you’re so reluctant. But that’s not fair on me, is it? You’ve played with them. Why not me?”

Because you knew this time, you wouldn’t be able to win. This entire place. He could manipulate it with ease, no matter where you ran, his voice would taunt you, distract you, make you spiral into madness.

A devious laugh emits from him, “Mm…quite the pessimist aren’t you, thinking like that. Not even going to try? I was thinking, Hide and Seek. Maybe Tag?” You shake your head, with trembling hands, “I don’t have the physical or mental strength right now for anything, please.”

Taehyun muses running a hand through his raven locks, “You sound so pretty when you beg and plead. Almost enough to make me consider your wishes.” Almost?

The tall man stands stretching his arms with a yawn. He towers over you with a menacing smile, “Yes almost. I like you.”

You peer up at him blankly startled by the random set of words. He resumes, “I like you a lot. So here’s what we’re going to do. As punishment, for trespassing in my woods, you’re going to play one round of tag with me. Think you can manage that?”

Pathetically, you splutter, “That’s not fair! You have so much advantage in this place- I’ll lose!” He lets out a giggle, “Ah, ah, ah, I never said if you lost that it’d be a bad thing. I just want to play. See you in action, after all, you slipped past the others.”

So…just for fun? For his sick amusement?

Taehyun leans down grinning, “Yes. Precisely, sweet thing. For my sick amusement. I want to see your pretty face scrunched up in fear, your delicate limbs deliciously tremble from the very thought of me hunting you down. And after I find you…” a malicious little laugh resounds from his mouth, “Well, anything really. Maybe I’ll comfort you. Maybe I’ll tie you up with some vines, leave you hanging upside down for a while. Perhaps…I can even offer you something that we’d both like,” a seductive twinkle appears in his eyes.

He had just said if you lost it wouldn’t be a bad thing! So what on earth were these options?

“Not a bad thing for me, sweet thing. A bad thing for you, perhaps. Don’t worry, I’ll try not to…maim you in the process. Let me apologise in advance,” he glances down at his nails, sharp enough to pierce skin, “My… nails can be a little…sharp, let’s say. But don’t worry, dying isn’t an option for you. Although, maybe you’ll wish to die, most people do, anyway.”

Your eyes widen mortified as his jaw moves with a sickening crack, rows of teeth appearing as his lips widen horrifyingly. His voice rasps out, “I’ll be a gentleman and allow you a ten second head start. Ten, nine…”

With that, you stand and bolt off in whatever direction. It was pointless, he’d win, you both knew that. It was just a sadistic game to him. However, instinct cried out to you to keep running. After all, you were the prey and he was the hunter.

‘…Three, two, one, here I come…’ his voice taunts you.

Panting, you run as fast as you can, weaving through the trees, jumping over the roots, ducking under branches. The waning shadows and crooked branches seem like they’re reaching out for you, looming ominously watching your every move. It was useless to run, he’d catch you. So why were you doing it? Indulging him? Because you were scared.

Perhaps you could prolong your inevitable fate just that little bit longer. You hiss in pain as a branch tears into your arm as you sprint past. This damn forest!

The caterpillar had said that the way out was here, Taehyun had to know the way out. There was clearly nothing he didn’t know. Would you be doomed to be his toy for his sadistic whims forever?

A menacing chuckle emits from your left side and then your right. ‘I can see you…don’t you look adorable running?’

You attempt to drone out his voice. Run. Just keep running. You couldn’t make it too easy for him after all. The forest seems to spin deliriously around you, your sense of direction lost to the wind.

Your lungs burn, muscles twitching and aching immensely as your stamina depletes rapidly. You weren’t exactly the most fit person- but having it bite you back now, was just dreadful. Maybe you should have paid a little more attention in Physical Education.

‘Slowing down? Don’t tell me you can’t run anymore.’ Taehyun snickers in your head.

You released ragged breaths leaning back against a tree. If you ran anymore, you were sure you would pass out. Tears brim in your eyes and your limbs tingle with pain at the sheer exertion. You close your eyes leaning your head back, lips parted for breath.

What a useless chase…worthless. For a moment, all is silent. You know he’s probably right behind you, prowling around somewhere. Oh well… some twisted part of you thinks, perhaps if you played along, he’d get bored and put you out of your misery.

What the hell? What were you thinking? Had you given up hope so quickly? Your heartbeat eases with your breathing. How has Taehyun not found you yet? Was he just waiting for you to open your eyes?

All of a sudden you hear a breathless laugh. He was here. Your body stiffens and you keep your eyes clamped shut. His voice purrs out, “Found you.”

Yeah, yeah. Of course, how surprising.

Another laugh emits from him, “Don’t think that way. It was rather fun, no? I made it easy for you; didn’t even manipulate the environment. You should be on your knees, thanking me, that I don’t have you hanging by your ankle right now.”

A scoff escapes your lips, “Seriously?” You slowly pry your eyelids open only to see nothing. You peer around the tree—both sides. Nothing at all?

What? Where was Taehyun?

“Tch, tch, tch,” Taehyun clicks his tongue, “Oh you guests always seem to forget to look up.” Your head instantaneously snaps up and you see him lounging in the tree that you were just leaning against. Holy shit! How long was he there for!?

“Since you decided to quit running, sweet thing,” he grins. His hand trails down the bark, nails digging into it, as he gives you a seductive smile, “I really, really like you, you know. You aren’t like the others. Most would have used this chance to try and pitifully escape or run back out of the woods back into Wonderland. But you…”

Taehyun slowly cranes his head, his smile widening into his terrifying grin and wide eyes, “…you didn’t run away, attempt to find your way out. You actually indulged me. You stayed put.” You remain silent.

It didn’t even register in your mind that you could run out of the woods, even if you couldn’t escape Wonderland, you could at least escape the woods and his grasp. So why…?

A giggle escapes his lips, “Perhaps I underestimated you. Maybe you’ve already lost your mind. Mm…or maybe you’re a little twisted, nothing wrong with that,” he begins clambering down, “Nothing wrong with enjoying a little pain, a little hunt—enjoying your sanity shattering.”

Within milliseconds, Taehyun stands right in front of you making you shriek as he grabs you by the throat, twisting you around and slamming you against the bark of the tree, knocking the breath out of your lungs.

A chuckle—half malice, half amusement emits from his lips as he peers down at you. Your lips part, eyes widening egregiously, his fingers squeezing a little tighter around your neck. Stammering, you say, “I-I-I don’t get it- what- why-“

“Because it’s fun,” he muses nonchalantly. “Have I mentioned how lovely your neck feels in my hand?”This sadistic piece of shit! He squeezes harder with a darker gaze, “Ah, ah, such a crude insult, insulting me like that, pretty thing? What have I said?”

Your gaze meets his, his face inches from yours. Your heart palpitates recklessly; shaky and strained breaths leave your lips. Such a piercing gaze, almost as if he were searching through your very soul. Your eyes flit over his face in partial wonder, how could someone so pretty be so deranged?

“It is quite the conundrum, hm?” Damn him and his unlimited access to your psyche!

A mocking hum leaves him as he tilts his head closer, “So you think I’m pretty, hm? My, you have quite the twisted taste. Most are terrified. Is it my smile?” His grip loosens on your neck momentarily allowing your shoulders to slouch in relief.

“Your smile…uh- I don’t think-“ you carefully structure your next words, “…it’s uhm, unique. Special.” He snickers, “Is it now? How cute. Nice white lie.” Taehyun seems to smile down at you, not a terrifying one, but ordinary. A smile carrying amusement, a touch of condescension.

Taehyun leans in even closer, “Mm…I’ve caught you. What should I do with you?”

Briefly, your eyes flit to his rosy lush lips as he speaks the words coyly. Focus. What was wrong with you?

“It’s okay,” he breathes out. “It's not like I haven't had fun with my guests before. In fact, looking at you…” his eyes take in your face and move downward, “I’d say it’d be an excellent use of time, driving you insane with my caress, having you see stars, spasm and come undone with my mouth and touch.” Would you like that? After all…you rather suck at tag. Maybe you’ll be better at this.”

You were sure if it weren’t for this abhorrent place, he’d make a great siren with how seductive he could get. Your knees feel weak and you close your eyes. No…no, he was stopping you from your one and only goal.

The Cheshire Cat was the only being in Wonderland who had such knowledge. Knowledge of the outside world. He had to know the exit. How to leave. Focus Y/n!

Taehyun’s low voice purrs out, “The exit…huh?” A smile coveting pleasure and secrets plasters on his lips. You whisper, quivering from his proximity, “Yes,” you inhale, “…the exit. I want to return to the real world,” your voice cracks, “Please.”

Taehyun’s hand grips your jaw as he coos, shaking your head slightly, “Aw, how adorable. Asking so nicely.” It takes all your strength not to lose your patience at his taunting and condescension. “Mm, so that’s why you’ve chosen to come to my woods and didn’t follow the hundreds of conveniently placed exit arrows and decided to risk everything by trespassing here, hm?” He muses.

“Why? Don’t believe those arrows?” Taehyun grins. You scoff softly, “As if it would be that easy.” He hums, “Mm, sometimes it really is you know. This place is just unpredictable. But in this case, you were right, those arrows lead to a lovely little hole, just waiting for an unsuspecting guest to waltz in and fall to their eternal descent.” Your heart drops, surely not? He was joking right?

‘Oh I’m not, sweet thing, believe me, it’s quite the place. Consider it the junk yard of Wonderland.’ His voice rings out in your mind.

Confusion batters your mind. You came into these woods only to get even more lost. Now that you were in his grasp, was it even possible to leave these woods and flee?

Taehyun’s grin widens, “I wondered when you’d realize that the exit isn’t so easy to find. You’re lost, aren’t you? So lost that you don’t even know which way to go anymore,” a malicious laugh escapes him.

You cry out fisting the fabric of his shirt in desperation, your mind couldn’t take this any further, “Please, Taehyun, please. I’ve had enough, you’re the only one in this place who knows the exit, knows of the real world. Surely you’ll indulge me? You’ve already let one person out of here right?”

He purrs, “Well, yes Alice was rather special, just like you actually. That’s why I adore you so much- just as witty, just as smart, if not more so, and very pretty,” he sighs frowning, “Oh, but she is now very old, quite elderly, truly a sad fact about the real world. You truly wish to return to the land of feeble mortality?”

You nod fervently, pleading, “Yes, yes I do! Just please show me how to leave!” Taehyun cocks his head, seeming to almost consider the request. A dramatic sigh leaves his lips, “Oh, how you guests are always the same, not even one person wishes to stay here.”

Goodness, who would? You just needed to leave no matter what, return to your meager and peaceful life!

Taehyun steps back but remains in front of you, ensuring you won’t just slip by. He says, “Oh, but that’s the problem, isn’t it? You’re too eager to leave.” You stiffen, brows furrowing befuddled.

He resumes with a huff, “You’re so focused on escaping that you’ve stopped seeing what’s right in front of you. The exit isn’t some place that you can just walk into,” he spreads his arms wide as if to emphasise his point.

The fuck? You feel as though your head is going to implode. You didn’t need more riddles or philosophy! Impatiently, you snap, “I don’t care about your riddles! I just need to get out.”

He flicks his hand dismissively; his lips twitching to form another grin, “Oh, but you see, you’ve already found the way out. By engaging with me.” What? What on earth was he spouting?

Blinking, you go to speak but he cuts you off before you can even begin. “The exit is closer than you think. All you have to do is step through,” he gestures to the left of him with a sweep of his arm.

Your eyes widen in shock. Through the mist and amongst the dark trees just up ahead, you see a white glowing doorway bathed in a soft, inviting light. Exhaustion seems to weigh heavy on your limbs and you stare at it in sheer disbelief.

It seems so simple. Too simple.

You snap your head back to him and deadpan, “That’s it? So…that’s the exit?” Your tone is filled with uncertainty but you were genuinely drawn toward the door.

The Cheshire Cat answers, “Yes.” His voice drips with mischief, “It’s right there. All you have to do is go through. No more games. No more riddles. It’s your choice. The door is waiting.”

Your desire to leave Wonderland is overwhelming despite the odd tension in the air. You find your feet seemingly twist and begin stepping slowly toward the door, each step heavier than the next. You are entranced by the ethereal light it emits.

As you reach the threshold of the door, you outstretch your arm, and it seems to faze through the blank space, the space is comforting, like a hug, a warm blanket even. Your fingers wriggle on the other side, a soft breeze brushes past your fingers tempting you further. This…was your escape. Right? Why were you so inexplicably drawn to this door?

You move even closer, the light illuminating your features. Interrupting your moment of tranquility and bliss, Taehyun calls out, “Wait... don’t you want to know what’s on the other side?”

Immediately, you stop in your tracks turning back to him. Wait- what the fuck has gotten into you? Were you just about to carelessly walk into that doorway? Believing the Cheshire Cat of all people?

You stammer, shaking your head to clear your head, “What do you mean? Isn’t the exit the real world? Isn’t that where I’ll be free?” A shudder runs through you as you see Taehyun’s eyes flash with something darker now.

“You think the real world is your escape, do you? Ah, how naive. You see, the problem is that you don’t know what’s real anymore. What if this doorway is just another illusion? A trick, just like everything else in Wonderland?” He utters, voice devoid of any humour or mischief.

His words hang dangerously in the air and you feel your eyes water, you were so desperate. “But I’m so close. I need to leave,” you beg brokenly.

Taehyun raises his hand, with a flick of his wrist, the world around you warps and bends. The trees twist and wane unnaturally, the dark colours begin bleeding together and the mist thickens.

“And yet, here we are, standing at the threshold of the unknown. Tell me, pretty thing—how do you know that’s the right door? How do you know the world you’re so desperate to return to is any better than this one?”

You recoil at his words, any semblance of confidence, or resolute goal you had was in tatters. The forest around you seems to shimmer and shift - the world itself seeming unstable. Was it the world, or was it you? You couldn’t tell anymore.

As you stand frozen, drowning in your whirling doubts, you see Taehyun’s serious expression morph into a wide and sly grin. With a snap of his fingers, another doorway appears beside the first.

However, this one it’s darker, more ominous— glowing with an eerie, crimson light.

“Here’s another exit,” Taehyun gestures to it, “This one leads to another reality. Perhaps the world you’re so desperate to escape isn’t the ‘real’ one after all. What if there’s another reality waiting for you? One where you can have everything you desire. This one is a much safer choice, isn’t it?”

You peer back and forth between the two doors. Overwhelmed, you ask, “But which one is the real exit?”

“How do you know?” He questions, voice barely above a whisper as grins wider. “How do you know what’s real? Every path, every exit in Wonderland feels real. The problem isn’t about choosing. The problem is that you can never be sure. You think you can escape, but you can’t even trust the world around you.”

You clutch your head, shutting your eyes. Your mind is frazzled, your heartbeat seems louder. You were definitely going insane or had you died and ended up in some sickening version of hell? You simultaneously felt like you wanted to scream and weep. Why was everything so difficult? Why didn’t you know what to do anymore?

You stand almost paralyzed by the fear of making the wrong choice, the wrong decision. You were torn between the two doors. The longer you seem to regard the two doors, the more they seem to shift and blur, as if neither one is truly stable.

The leaf and twigs crunch and snap under Taehyun’s feet as he walks towards you, “You cannot trust me, you cannot trust anything in this place. But you can trust yourself. Can’t you?” His voice is mocking, twisted but serious.

“The only thing that is real is you and your choice to move. Because, in the end, the only thing that makes a door an exit is your decision to walk through it,” he finishes off coming to stand beside you.

For a long moment, you both stand in silence. Taehyun stares at you, his sharp eyes fixed on you, glimmering with intrigue, a sadistic delight, curiosity even. You continue to gaze at the two doors, processing his words as they ring out over and over again.

The unmelted remainder of your brain chugs and whirrs pathetically as you once again go over his words. There had to be something, anything to bypass this endless torture of uncertainty. That’s when your brain clicks.

Your eyes widen; a shaky breath resounds from you, these two doors were a trap. These shifting illusions were never meant to guide you out of here. These were here to make a point.

The point being, is choosing to embrace the unknown. Not needing to know the answers. The answer was what was holding you back, keeping you trained to this exact spot in hopeless despair. You had to choose.

The Cheshire Cat chuckles, “My, my sweet thing, you look like a mighty epiphany has been had.” Indeed you did! Taking a deep breath, uncertainty swirls around you but you suddenly feel something shift in the air. You meet his gaze, something had shifted within him too. The way he’s looking at you almost…proudly.

Without a single word, you step toward the door that calls to you the most, that you resonate with. Not because you felt comfortable, no—you had no fucking clue what was on the other side of either door. But you were just going for it. Standing here in insanity inducing contemplation wasn’t worth it.

In other words: fuck it.

As you take the first step toward the door, the world around you begins to unravel. You peer over your shoulder as you hear loud laughter echo. There he was, laughing, throwing his head back, grin as wide as ever. Taehyun runs a hand through his black locks with a twistedly exhilarated expression.

Both of you lock eyes as he steps forward, taking your hands with a manic gaze and wide beaming grin, he brings them up to his lips, a kiss on the back of both hands— enough to make your heart flutter impossibly so.

“Ah, finally. You’ve learned the delightful truth, sweet thing. There is no certainty, no guarantee. There’s only choice, and the courage to take the first step,” he coos, thumb running over the back of your hand, “I have decided to consider your plea, your freedom. You’ve thoroughly impressed me.”

Taehyun leans down, “You’ve certainly entertained me, another person who I’ll never, ever forget.” His hand cups your cheek, before his thumb trails down to tug at your lower lip making your breath hitch.

“Oh how special you are…” he breathes. You look up at him in realisation. As insane, as sadistic and twisted as he was, he truly was the wisest in Wonderland. A being who surpassed comprehension, someone- or something, that no one in their right mind could ever figure out.

All you had to do was last his game- a game in which the very fabric of your mind and psyche would be stretched to their limits. Then, and only then when the Cheshire Cat was thoroughly pleased, would he grant your wish. Guide you to the exit you so desperately seek.

His lips are inches from your, tension between you taut, imposing, some filthy, dark twisted part of you wanted to tiptoe up and press your lips to his. Why? You don’t really know why.

An alluring smile appears on his visage, temptingly leaning down just a little further, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. His other hand grasps yours, intertwining your fingers with his as he squeezes.

Taehyun whispers, “Sweet thing, how you tempt me so, I almost want to snatch you up and keep you here forever,” you stiffen and he muses, “But…that would not be fair, I am not so cruel to keep you here after making you lose your mind.” His gaze flits down to your lips, “Mm, but perhaps you could soothe my aching heart…with a goodbye kiss?”

This truly did feel like a goodbye. Throwing any decorum, any ounce of sanity or dignity out the window, you tiptoe up pressing your lips to his. He tilts his head, lips parting welcoming yours with a pleasant hum. Oh how good it felt, you hated yet loved it. It made you feel sinful but how you so craved it, something about him just made you want to…give yourself entirely.

His lips move against yours deliciously, enticingly before parting with a satisfied smirk and he whispers alluringly, breath hitting your face, “Sweet thing, do you promise to never forget me?”

Forget him? God, he’d be the last person you’d forget. You’d be surprised if you didn’t see him in your dreams (or nightmares), after all this.

Taehyun tilts your head up slightly, “Hm?” You shake your head with a breathless laugh, as you step back prying his hands off you, “I promise I won’t. Definitely not for a while anyway.”

“Not for a while, huh? Oh, I think it’ll be a lot longer,” he muses, raising his hand into a wave. “Now get going, weren’t you so pitifully desperate to get back to that awfully boring place you call home?”

You hear a click of a door opening and you gasp seeing the door you chose open up. The familiar trees of the park, the skyline of buildings, the sky. Home! You step forward, stepping into the threshold and feel the Dark Woods fade behind them. The weight of doubt and indecision lift from your shoulders.

It was about deciding to move—trusting yourself enough to take a step without knowing for sure what lies ahead. The real world isn’t perfect either, and it may not be as certain or clear-cut as you once believed, but you’re free because you are no longer waiting for the ‘right’ door to appear.

With that, your vision becomes pure and vivid white, blinding you with its brightness as you feel almost weightless. Finally, your consciousness fails you as you seem to let your body fall into nothingness.

Soon, a gentle breeze brushes across your cheeks and hair. You feel something soft, something crunching under your head. The scent of grass, a touch of street food, (perhaps a hot dog, or was it pizza?), dust and traffic and vehicle horns resound out as your consciousness slowly comes back.

A buzzing and murmuring infiltrates your ears. It felt as though…there was someone talking. No- a lot of people actually. The murmur of a crowd. All around you.

With a final push, you pry your eyelids open and sit up with a large gasp. A few yelps and a cacophony of muttering, whispering and gasp resound from around you. You squint as the daylight burns your eyes and you raise your hand to block out the ray of sun.

‘What happened to them?’ ‘Is she okay?’ ‘Why were they just passed out on the grass like that?’ All questions that seem to hover around you adding to your confusion and disoriented state. It had seemed in this world only a matter of a few minutes had passed.

You just looked like you had fainted, passed out even. A twinge of embarrassment fills you for a moment. Then you peer down seeing the horrendous black and red envelope that you seemed to be clutching tightly with trembling hands.

With a piercing scream, you toss the envelope away startling the small crowd that’s seemed to form around you. The invite daintily flaps and dances around against the ground being strung by the strings of the wind. God forbid, you ever accidentally enter such a world again.

Never were you picking up random shit on the road after this.

The people around you whisper and murmur whilst you groan clutching your head. Oh you must look crazy right now…

Seems about right, no one has the damn courtesy to help you up! Your body feels heavy, exhausted and fatigued with limbs shaking.

With a painful grunt, you bring yourself to your knees and place your hands onto the floor to steady yourself before you get up. The last thing you wanted was to stand up only for your legs to give out on you.

As you go to stand, you spot a pair of sneakers walking toward you, and you crane your head up to see who is walking towards you. Huh? Purple laces?

You stiffen seeing the person’s hand outstretched. You feel the entire world shift on its axis as any remaining breath promptly leaves your body at the abysmal sight.

“Grab my hand, I’ll help you up. These inconsiderate losers can’t be bothered to help you up? Can they?” His voice muses quietly as he doesn’t wait for you to take his hand, in fact, he wraps his hand around yours and tugs you up. You stumble into him wide eyed and speechless.

The crowd begins to disperse rapidly as you’re standing up and you have to make sure you are still in the real world as you frantically look around.

How the fuck? Since when was this possible?

“Since now,” he finishes off for you clutching both your hands. You tilt your head up to meet his dark gaze, “After all, you promised you wouldn’t forget me, didn’t you?”

Fuck.

“I-I- how- but that doesn't explain- how are you here in the real world?” You splutter and stammer.

You feel a tap on your shoulder seeing an elderly woman, “Dear, are you okay? Seems like you must have taken quite the fall, and understandably so, you must be rather disoriented but,” the woman uncomfortably peers in front of you, “But… are you in the habit of talking to yourself, or is it just rambling?”

What? Yourself? But- you gaze back over seeing Taehyun gazing at the woman who just spoke to you. He grins widely, clutching your hands tighter. “Go on, don’t keep the nice lady waiting.”

Your blood runs icily cold. No way.

“So, I’m sorry to ask, I’m just so confused at the moment, did I get up myself?” You question timidly. The lady seems to fidget awkwardly, “Uhm, yes? Yes dear, you did. Quite surprising, you got up so smoothly, after such an event. Do you need any medical treatment? I know a clinic nearby-“

No you didn’t. Taehyun helped you up. You spin back around with a scream as you fist his shirt, “You followed me out here? She can’t see you? She can’t see you? Only I can? How the fuck is that possible?”

The woman seems frightened by your outburst and steps back, “Uhm- alright dear, I- I best be going, just rest for a bit-“ she seems to back away, rushing off.

A cackle escapes Taehyun’s lips as he covers his hands over yours, grin frighteningly wide as he towers over you, “How? How, you ask?” One hand raises and his index finger trails up the bridge of your nose and rests right in the middle of your forehead.

With a delightedly mischievous chuckle, he whispers, “Because of this,” his finger presses into your forehead. “This wonderful mind of yours. Now, you’ll always have someone to talk to, isn’t that lovely? You should be honoured, Alice has got the same present. Not to worry, I can be in two places at once, three, four. Everywhere. All at once.”

Taehyun cups your cheek once more with a twisted adoration, “So don’t worry, you won’t have to keep those wondrous memories of yours, just that, memories. We can keep them alive, even in this world. Isn’t that nice? Your life won’t be so boring anymore.”

As the words hang in the air, you fall to your knees and let the most soul shattering scream you’ve ever released in your existence.

Oh, did you really think you escaped? Did you really think that pesky little invite would be harmless?

No, no, that invite was the gateway to madness. There was no way you’d come out of that world with any sanity left intact.

After all, that would be preposterous wouldn’t it?

Taglist: [CLOSED]

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[clementine-thedestroyer]

Thinking about smokejumpers or hotshots!141 x forest ranger or otherwise forest service employed reader…

(Hotshots, if you don’t know are the special firefighters that go in to do the really dangerous parts of wildfire fighting, and smoke jumpers are firefighters that parachute into remote areas.)

But, anyways- thinking about reader who’s either working for the national parks or forest service and somehow, ended up on the wrong end of a wild fire. Didn’t get the notice to evacuate in time, couldn’t- whatever the reason is. They’re stuck in the danger zone and convinced they’re going to die, curled up in the corner of whatever remote ranger station they’d been stationed at with soaked towels stuffed under the gaps between the door and frame and the air outside too hot and smokey for them to try and leave the house. They’re curled up in the corner fucking sobbing because they’re going to die there, they’re going to die, they’re going to die- until their door is busted down with an axe and a giant figure clad in fire gear shoves his way inside.

At first, they’re freaking out- they’re not thinking straight. The door being knocked down brings a rush of hot air and smoke billowing into the cabin that makes their eyes water and their lungs burn.

They try to fight the figure briefly, terrified and in a haze of fear and adrenaline as the person throws them over their shoulder like a sack of potatoes and books it the fuck out of there.

But from Price’s perspective (because yes, it’s Price) he and his team were working on the edge of the danger zone- trying their best to keep the fire from spreading further until he hears that there’s someone farther in- a forest ranger or something who didn’t get the evacuation order in time, who’s ranger station was never even expected to be in the path of the fire until the winds changed and left everyone, including them, scrambling to contain the fire.

He hears about it, and he doesn’t hesitate, yelling to Simon to work on arranging an evacuation for them all, because the fire’s growing and moving faster than expected and they need to get out of there.

So he absolutely books it the half or quarter mile to the little ranger station no more than thirty minutes from being engulfed by the fire and forces entry, finding you curled up in the corner struggling to breath through the smoke and sobbing.

He throws you over his shoulder without a second thought. There’s no time for him to explain himself or comfort you, he’s just running as fast as he can because he knows that while he may be able to survive closer to the fire’s edge with his suit and respirator, you certainly can’t.

When he gets back to his team, he can hear the helicopter. Gaz and Soap are screaming at him, telling him he’s out of his mind- that he had no idea that you were even still there or alive, that he could’ve gotten both of you killed, that what he did was stupid and reckless- while Simon is barley holding the situation together between the other two freaking out and his own worry for his captain.

The evacuation was a mess- between the already hazardous conditions and the addition of someone without any protective gear- but they make it out

Afterwards, you’re rushed to the hospital for smoke inhalation. You’re undeniably hurt, but you’re alive.

When you’re well enough to leave the hospital, you track down the fire crew that saved you, wanting to thank them. You show up at their door with a tray of fresh baked goods, shifting shyly on your feet as you present the tray of sweets to the tall, burly man you’re told was the one who carried you to safety.

You introduce yourself, stuttering out your words as you thank him and give him the treats you’d baked.

Behind the man, there’s two nosey men (and one less blatantly nosey man watching from the kitchen, though you don’t see him) sticking their heads out from behind him to get a look at the pretty girl their captain had pulled out of the fire.

They invite you in, ignoring your protests and worries about intruding and insisting you stay for dinner.

Price introduces you to his crew, taking the time to explain what they do, why he went back towards the fire to get you, how he’d know you were there, ect.

In a way, it helps you heal from the trauma of the whole ordeal some.

They ask about your injuries, how you’re doing- and slowly, the conversation turns more casual, with Soap cracking jokes and Gaz chatting you up about your degree and job with the forest service.

Safe to say, you spend a lot of time at the station from then on.

[sitepathos]

Since reader has been living in goodsprings for four years now, has the mold started setting up new system roots in goodsprings? Can it use reader to spread its spores? Also how did the batfamily not notice a kid for four YEARS???? IM smacking them except alfred

For the first part of your question: the mold has only set up a sort of sub-colony around your house. As stated in Chapter 6, the Megamycete wanted to set up roots around your house to defend it. Should a thief be stupid enough to try to break in your house, he’ll find his leg tangled by a black moldy root that seems determined to snap it off. You can also use your quorum sensing to see through the roots and keep an eye on things while you’re away.

The roots also keep your lawn looking great, saving you from mowing the grass or weeding.

As for the second part, you’d be surprised. For this series, there’s three reasons why they forgot about you so easily. One: you joined at the worst time possible. Jason had died not too long ago, Bruce was so wracked with grief that he threw himself into his work as Batman, and Tim’s parents died, causing him to be adopted by Bruce. With all that going on, you kinda got put on the back burner.

Two: all of them are so busy with their night lives that it bleeds into their daytime lives. They’re too chickenshit to deal with their trauma in healthy ways, so they take the coward’s way out and throw themselves into fighting crime. They get so busy that they forget to take care of themselves and if Alfred wasn’t around, they’d probably waste away.

And three, the one that hurts the most: you’re ordinary. You’re not a genius, you’re physical prowess is average at best, you don’t turn heads when you enter a room, and you don’t have any skills that stand out in a family like the Waynes. And you were raised by your Momma and had a normal, healthy life.

And when you lost her, you grieved like any other six-year-old would and eventually learned to carry on without her (although it wasn’t easy since you didn’t have the emotional support of your family). You certainly didn’t put on some stupid costume and start fist fighting clowns (come on, that’s stupid).

As much as they’d hate to admit it (especially Dick), you didn’t have anything that made them give you a passing glance; you weren’t interesting. They all come from colorful backgrounds have have skills and personalities that make people pay attention to them while you blended into the crowd.

And in a family as prestigious as the Waynes, that’s an unforgivable sin. And you were punished by being turned into the black sheep, forgotten and neglected for years.

You don’t care, your life stopped revolving around them years ago. You have the Megamycete and your dream’s come true. You’re living your best life right now and they can’t hurt you now.

But little do you know there’s a storming brewing and Gotham and it’s heading straight for you. Now that they know the error of their ways, they intend to bring you back to the fold and show you off to the world as the most important part of their family.

However, they’ll soon discover that you’re no longer that Average Joe you once were. Maybe when they see what you’ve become, they’ll finally find you “interesting.”

[fruitcoops]

Clean Slate

Ah, the passage of time. If anyone has been here since the first phone call, you may be entitled to financial compensation (or an AARP membership). Character credit goes to @lumosinlove <3

“Reg?”

On the first ring, as always. “Hey.”

“…hi?”

“I was thinking about going back to Gryff for Christmas.”

“Oh.” Surprise, but pleasant surprise. Regulus shook his pan of sausage. “Yeah, sounds good. You always have a room here. Or were you staying with the cubs?”

“With you.” He stretched his neck from side-to-side. Tension bled out of his forehead and shoulders at the familiar roll of French on his tongue. “If that’s okay.”

“Always,” Sirius answered immediately, almost hasty. Regulus wasn’t sure they’d ever get past that. Ah, well. The damage was done.

The line remained quiet for a moment. Sausage sizzled, and he turned to the pile of green beans on the cutting board. Leo had taught him how to snap the ends off with his fingernails, and though he was better now about not chewing them to the quick, he still didn’t like the feeling of stuff stuck beneath them. Regulus had really only called to clarify plans.

“How—how are your friends?”

“Good.” Sirius liked to talk, even if he wasn’t very good at it. “Jax and Kris set up the living room last night.”

“Do they still have that stupid poster?”

Regulus snorted under his breath and carefully sliced the tip off another bean. “They tried to hang it in the window.”

Sirius groaned.

Regulus grinned. He supposed he could have a little mercy. “Don’t worry, it’s under my bed.”

“Somehow, that’s worse.”

“I can’t get rid of it. It’s their favorite possession. They have a thing for your long hair and the murder face. Jax is still waiting for the day you spontaneously get divorced and need a hot young college student to rebound.”

He wasn’t sure whether the gagging sound Sirius made was real or exaggerated. As long as he was in mild torment, Regulus was happy. A simple, ever-amusing perk of long-distance communication.

“I hope your classmates are less in tune with pop culture.”

“Hockey, yes. Pop culture, no.” Regulus eyed the pan, then added another knob of butter to be safe. There was nothing worse than a burnt vegetable. “And my classes are going well, thank you for asking.”

“You’re welcome.”

He rolled his eyes. It didn’t matter that Sirius couldn’t see it; the message would certainly get through.

“Don’t make that face at me.”

“I’m not making a face.”

“You always make faces.”

Regulus stuck his tongue out at the microwave above the stove.

“I can feel you doing it again.”

“That was a different one. I’m taking physics 3 this year and it’s making me want to eat a doorknob already.”

“You’re anemic enough that it would probably help.”

“I take my supplements!” Regulus argued, shaking his pan. “Not my fault we were force-fed protein in fucking sun-less Canada.”

“We had sun, you just never went outside,” Sirius countered, like it was some sort of argument. “I don’t have to take supplements.”

“Well, you’re perfect and bulletproof, as everyone knows.”

“Exactly.”

Regulus angled his face at the dark phone screen when he pulled a face this time. It was a good one. Pity that Sirius couldn’t see it. He should’ve gone for FaceTime.

“Are you starting a fire?”

“I’m making dinner.”

“So…yes?”

“Not all of us have a home cook.”

“I can cook now.”

“Oh, you’ve been housebroken.” Regulus blew out a mouthful of steam as he tested a piece of sausage. “How thrilling for Lupin.”

“You’re such an asshole.”

“Takes one to know one. I learned that last week.”

He could feel Sirius shaking his head. “Knutty is formally banned from teaching you new slang.”

“You’ve never said ‘no’ to him in his entire career.” Regulus let the line hang silent for another half-minute as he turned the burner off and began scraping his dinner into a bowl. It still bore a faint orange tinge from last year’s finals-week spaghetti run. He fished a piece of pasta out of the water and popped it in his mouth, grimacing at the heat on his tongue. It was cooked well enough—at least, he was hungry enough to forgive a more al dente texture.

“By the way,” he started, as if his stomach wasn’t stuttering. “I think I’ll be back in time for family skate.”

The shuffling sounds on Sirius’ end came to an abrupt halt. “That’s nice,” came the faux-casual answer.

Anxiety made a valiant effort to claw up and silence his tongue. “I was thinking about going.”

“Well,” Sirius began, then paused. Regulus swallowed a few times to clear the block in his throat while Sirius pondered. “I—yeah, sounds good.”

“I want to.”

“Good.” Sirius’ relief was audible. “Okay, good. You can change your mind.”

“Don’t be weird about it,” Regulus ordered as he toed his slippers on and made his way to the apartment’s tiny coffee table. They’d get chairs at some point, but for now three pillows sat on the floor beside it.

“I’m never weird.”

“Boo, liar.”

“Freak.”

“I’m telling Lupin.”

“Do it. He likes me better. I can cook.”

“I’m—” Regulus caught himself at the last second and felt Sirius’ breath hitch on the other end of the line in anticipation. “—not joking, I actually want to go and play stupid ice fetch with your irritating friends, and nobody is making me feel pressured.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t sound so…” He wrinkled his nose and stuffed a mouthful of pasta into his mouth. “Smiley.”

“It’ll be good to have you home.”

“If you’re weird, I’m staying with Leo,” Regulus threatened. “For real, this time.”

“Right, because you love being around people who are engaged and anywhere near a holiday, or mistletoe, or the magic of Christmas—”

His loud groan silenced Sirius’ words, but not his laughter. “Get your laughs in now, before I whoop your ass on the ice.”

“Would love to see you try.”

“Don’t sound so thrilled.”

“Everyone else is going to underestimate you. I won’t be nice like that.”

“You’re never nice,” Regulus lied.

Sirius let him eat in peace until he was scraping the last bits of cheese from the bottom of the bowl. He heard the faint beeping of the dishwasher buttons in the background and glanced at his own sink, nearly overflowing with haphazard dishes from the first chaotic weeks of their senior year. The apartment was a pleasant change from living on campus, such as it was. Jax and Kris had offered to pay rent—tried to strongarm him, really—but a few withering looks had finally made them relent. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it was his. Theirs.

The string lights lining the ceiling weren’t strictly allowed, but Regulus liked their gentle blue cast. The blanket Remus and Sirius had sent as a housewarming gift sat cozily on the back of their couch. Curtains from Jax’s mother let in just the right amount of light in the mornings.

“Call me if you need anything, okay?”

The sound of Sirius’ voice in his earbuds startled him. “Yeah,” Regulus said. “Yeah, sure.”

“Even for laundry.” Sirius tried for wry, and it made Regulus crack a small smile, but it was gentler than either of them intended. “Don’t shrink your clothes. Check the tags.”

Always do, he thought, but kept it down. “Good advice. No centipedes here, yet.”

Sirius’ laugh was a little weak. “You’re just not looking hard enough.”

“Eugh, don’t say that.” Regulus blinked fast, tipping his head toward the ceiling. “Hey, this washer even has a ‘normal’ setting, if you can believe it.”

“Oh, wow. Lucky you.”

Picking up the phone on the first ring, always. For four years straight. “I’ll see you at Christmas.”

“We can come up in October, if you want.”

Of course Sirius had the academic calendar on-hand. “I’ll be gone that weekend with the guys. We didn’t want to be around all the new parents. They’re very damp.”

“And you melt when water touches you, of course.”

“Of course.”

Sirius let out a quiet breath. “See you at Christmas, Reg. Call me when you have flights.”

“Mhm.”

“Stay safe.”

“Always do.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I do here,” he corrected.

“Fine.”

“Miss you.” The streetlights down the road were just starting to come on. “Say hi to Lupin for me.”

“He’s in the other room,” Sirius offered. “You can say it yourself.”

“I’ll talk to you both enough at Christmas.”

“Call any time. And let us know when you hear back about graduation tickets.”

What a terrifying thought to leave for the end of the call. “I’ll forward it to you.”

“I’ll keep an eye out.”

“Okay. Bye.” And before he could second-guess himself—“I’ll be home soon.”

“Don’t talk to strangers,” Sirius answered. Regulus heard the truth under it. “And do your laundry.”

[captain039]

Wolf and bear

Halsin x shapeshifter!reader

Warnings: sexual, adult content, eventual smut, light swearing, mentions of dog fighting, first times.

Again! I don’t know Halsins character very well, nor have a played the game still lmao (3rd of the 9th ) well 5th cause that’s when I get paid lol.

Angry little wolf with her future bear husband lol

Kinda questionable xD

I cannot find Halsin smut and I need it

Also need Astarion smut

Challenging a bear probably wasn’t the smartest idea you had, but he was too close to your home. He smelt different though, not like normal wild bears that sometimes roam through. There was a scar down his eyes and his one of his lip. He was bigger than a normal bear also, then again you were a bigger than a normal wolf. Was he a shifter? He didn’t seem fazed by your warning growls and snaps, if a bear could looked amused he looked it. You huffed through your teeth and hoped he’d disappear. You headed back to your cottage, shifting back into your human form with a pained groan.

“Why’re you in pain?” you screamed at the deep voice behind you, body instantly going back into a wolf form due to reflexes. You smacked the ground with a groan before shifting back. Your body extra aching now, of course it bloody hurt your body literally changed into an animal! stupid idiot. You grabbed your robe quickly and covered yourself, you turned seeing an overly naked large man.

“Gods!” you covered your eyes praying he’d just leave.

“Do you have clothes?!” You yelled.

“I rather enjoy changing without them on, more comfortable” he said and you couldn’t argue with logic, but still. Sure if you were skilled enough in magic you’d keep your clothes on and not ruin them, every time you changed though they’d be torn and ruined.

“Why’re you here?” You asked keeping your hand over your eyes.

“It’s been a long time since I met another shifter, I was curious I suppose” he said and you sighed.

“Well I shift, the end, please leave” you probably sounded like a bitch, but you hadn’t had anyone here in years, people weren’t to found on a wolf in their villages, and life with other shifters was weird, constant need to bond with nature and a lot of nudity.

“Why have you not joined others?” He asked and you sighed.

“Because they are too much for me I like my quietness!” You pressed hoping he’d get the hint.

“You are against bonding with nature and being yourself?” He added and you groaned.

“Listen man, I don’t want your company or questions please leave!” You finally moved your hand to look at him, geez he was big. Big broad shoulders and wide torso, strong legs- oh gods. You flushed and looked back to his eyes seeing a small smirk. He had the same three scars over his eyes and the one on his lip, tribal markings down the right side of his face. Pointed ears and long brown hair half tied back.

“You didn’t answer my question” he stated and your mouth hung open slightly, did he not get a word you just said.

“I’m Halsin” he said.

“I don’t care!” You groaned getting up and going inside, slamming the door behind you.

You awoke the next morning ignoring the scenes

of last night, hopefully he’s gone back to his little nature loving pack. You went outside to tend to your garden only to freeze when you sensed someone to your left. You stared at the large man sitting by your table chewing on what looked like dried fruit. Is he serious? You walked back inside surely this was a dream, or an illusion.

“I’m real” he called and you walked back outside.

“What in the hell are you doing here?!” You snapped and he just smiled. He was clothed thankfully as he stood, woah he was much bigger than you.

“You intrigue me” he said.

“I don’t care, get off my property or-“ you stuttered what could you really do to a giant bear man? He smirked head tilted he knew you couldn’t do anything.

You ignored him as you went about your gardening. He didn’t say anything which annoyed you more, what did he want somewhere to hibernate?! Certainly wasn’t going to be in your comfortable bed.

“Excuse us” you frowned at the approaching men. The bear man stood on edge a frown on his face. You walked to them and wiped your hands.

“What is it?” You asked seeing a note in their hands.

“Have you seen or heard any bears around?” He asked and you froze.

“One with a scar on his face!” The man behind him piped up.

“No?” You said questioning.

“We believe it’s a demon” he said and you raised a slight eyebrow.

“Bear shifter” he added, so this man was a shifter hater.

“He caused a rampage in a dog fight arena” your stomach churned at the words, people still did that? Horrible beings.

“Was anyone hurt?” You asked trying to not sound suspicious.

“Just the owners, not dead, but all the dogs were let free” he answered and you felt relief flood you.

“This your husband?” He nodded to the bear man behind you.

“Uh-“ you faltered as he stood and came over with a smile.

“I am” he said and you froze as a hand went around your waist. You wanted to punch that smile off his face.

“Ah, have you heard or seen anything?” The man asked and your supposed husband shook his head.

“Can’t say I have” he said.

“Kinda got scars like you” the one behind said studying.

“Oh these I was attacked by a bear actually, got its head in our living room” he chuckled, but you felt how rigid his body went.

“Awesome!” The man behind said and you sighed.

“Well if you see or hear anything let us know, oh and if you see a dog or dogs let us know, we’re at the village council” the man said and left. The bear man growled and you tensed feeling the anger rolling off him. You rested a hand on his chest feeling his urge to murder those men.

“Killing them won’t solve anything” you said hushed and he stared down at you with big eyes. Now that he was close, you could feel his warmth, feel the muscles beneath your hand, smell his scent.

You closed your eyes for a moment taking him in before you realised what you were doing and stormed away embarrassed.

“What about those dogs?” You asked.

“They’re with good people now, away from that horrible place” he growled the last part and you couldn’t ignore the shivers and unwanted arousal it gave you.

“Good” you whispered as you went back to gardening.

Apparently this was his daily ritual, to greet you in the morning, ask some questions and just be around you. You really couldn’t deny how comforting it was to have his presence, but you also couldn’t ignore how weird it was. After a few days of not shifting your body began to ache, you hated it, hated having to change and run in the forest despite the freedom it gave you. You waited till night, waited till Halsin was gone. You went outside in a robe, shrugged it off and shifted. You took a moment to gather yourself before you took off into the woods. You rested by a lake and looked at the moon reflection rippling in the water. You heard heavy steps and stood, hackles up before you recognised the scent and scar on the big bear. You sat back down listening to him saunter over and sit by you. You enjoyed the cool breeze and took in a breath to smell the forest around you. Halsin bumped you suddenly and you looked to him seeing the bear smile. You huffed at him and looked away feeling him doing it again. You gave him a narrowed look feeling his playfulness. You pushed him back with your body watching him stumble. He roared playfully and you stood up tail wagging slightly. You bowed down slightly in a playful dog stance as he roared softly and began play fighting with you. If someone was to walk by the would be weirded out, but for some reason this felt natural. If you could laugh you would, it just came out a strange grunts and growls as you nipped playfully at Halsins paws. He was stronger though and knocked you into the water. You froze standing up quickly and shivering. You growled charging at him and trying tackle him into the water only to fail. You were pinned under him, paws in the air and you gave a huff. He shifted above you and you tilted your head.

“Shift” he said smiling and you did expecting pain. You frowned though as he waved his hand, yellow light coming from his hand.

“Was that better?” He asked softly and you nodded surprised.

“I’m a Druid” he said.

“Oh” you said glancing at your nakedness and his. You covered your breasts and looked away with cheeks flushed.

“Why do you hide?” He asked and you glanced to him, biting the inside of your cheek.

“This is- intimate” you muttered.

“I’ve never been intimate, nor has anyone seen me like this” you added embarrassed, you glanced to his face seeing his eyes darken slightly but remaining soft.

“May I kiss you?” He asked softly and you froze, but felt yourself nod. He smiled as he leant down, you closed your eyes as you felt him press his lips to yours. You made an embarrassing noise, but he just deepened the kiss. Your arms left covering your breasts and you gripped his forearms instead as he began to kiss down your jaw and to your neck. You felt him press his lower half to you, hips meeting yours, you gasped hand slapping over your mouth. You heard him chuckle lightly, his breath tickling your neck.

“I want to worship you” he said softly and heat ran straight through your body.

“I want to taste you” he pressed a kiss to a sensitive spot on your neck that made you squirm.

“Feel you” he muttered and you sealed your eyes close. You felt his hand rest on your ribs before sliding up your side and over your hip, before gripping your thigh. He gripped the flesh pulling it gently so your knee bent. He stopped kissing your neck and chuckled again as you opened your eyes and flushed, you moved your hand and he kissed you again.

“You’re not so feisty when you’re flustered” he grinned and you glared.

“I was wrong” he chuckled and you hated how you loved the sound. Hated how you loved the feeling of him against you. You were battling with yourself, you didn’t even realise he had slid down your body till lips pressed against your inner thigh. Your eyes went down to his, he smirked pushing your legs further apart before you felt his breath against your folds. Your breath hitched when a tongue darted out and ran through them, a groan leaving his lips as he began to lick. Your body squirmed and you closed your eyes leaning your head back fully. You had one hand on your stomach in a fist, the other at your side, he was skilful, gods you felt like you were in heaven, or hell. You felt his hand snake up your stomach and you opened your hand to hold it, which he gladly accepted. You moaned as he began to suck and prod his tongue against your entrance. You gripped his hand harshly but he didn’t seem to care, too busy working you up with his tongue. You felt fingers though, joining his tongue and sliding in heat. You moaned back arching as he began to slowly thrust his finger in and out. His fingers were much bigger than yours and much more delightful, you kept clenching his hand as you felt your stomach tighten with need and release. You moaned brokenly when he added a second finger, working you open for what was hopefully to come. His mouth paid extra attention to your clit while his fingers scissored and beckoned. You whined lowly muttering a please that you barely managed to get out. You felt him grin and wanted to slap the cockiness off his face, but was too caught in the pressure building. You felt the knot in your stomach come undone as you came with a moan. Your legs shuddered and you panted loudly as he continued riding out your high slowly. He sat back up, and crawled up your body again smiling down at you.

“Beautiful” he whispered and you flushed looking away. You waited for him to move, but he didn’t and you looked back ready to huff at him. He had a playful look and you groaned quietly with a huff, why was he teasing?

“Why’re you teasing?” You asked.

“Because it gets you worked up” he smirked and you glared with a huff, you crossed your arms over your chest too, looking away till he kissed down your neck and you felt his hips shift. You tensed a bit as you felt the tip of his cock resting by your entrance. He grabbed one of your hands and pressed it above your head, clenching it before he thrusted in. You moaned while he groaned in your ear, you held your breath before panting. You clenched his hand, gods you felt full. He let you adjust before slowly skipping out and back in, your eyes slipped shut as you felt the sting.

“Gods” you muttered.

“I’ve got you” he whispered giving your hand a gentle squeeze. You whined in response as he set a slow pace, the sting slowly fading. His hand left yours as he rested on it instead and you wrapped your arms around him. His pace quickened slowly and you were struggling to keep in your moans.

“Only I can hear you” he whispered lifting his head which made you open your eyes. He kissed you gently and you moaned into his mouth as he began to quicken again. He was getting close, his pants became uneven and his hips were moving more desperately. You closed your eyes tightly again, back arching as he sped up to chase his release. You gripped his arms in your hands as his hips stuttered and he came with a groan. His head was in your neck panting harshly as you lifted your hands to run them up and down his back.

“I’m sorry” he suddenly said and you frowned.

“Why?” You asked as he lifted his head.

“I didn’t bring you to your release again” he said looking guilty and you smiled shaking your head pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Another time” you whispered and his eyes widened slightly but smiled as he kissed you once more.

[xo-valxntine]

The Proposition (S. Gojo)

pairing: gojo x stripper!femreader

synopsis: you’re a stripper and satoru gojo has taken a liking to you. whenever he comes to see you, he always gets a private dance but tonight he has something else in mind

tws: 18+ mdni!!!!, smut w/ plot!, cheating (gojo is married), somewhat established relationship (gojo comes to see you quite frequently), pet names (baby, princess, good girl), nippleplay, oral (f + m receiving), fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex, semi public sex (private room at a strip club), mentions of alcohol wc: ~4,600

a/n: i haven’t written smut in so long so pls bare with me. i had a black woman in mind when i wore this but descriptions are ethnicity neutral :) i’m thinking abt maybe making this into a mini series? anyway, i hope you enjoy

It was a typical Tuesday night at the strip club, slow with a few men coming in here and there. Mondays and Tuesdays were typically slow, considering the weekend had come and gone. You had already done a few dances, but since it was slow you had only garnered about $100. It was so little, even for a Tuesday night. The night before you were able to gain just under $300. If this was a sign as to how the week was going, you were certainly screwed. You had bills coming up and you weren’t sure how you were going to pay them. You let out a sigh and push your thoughts away. You had to focus on making the most you could, so you went to freshen yourself up before your next stage set. You’re fixing your makeup when your friend enters the room unexpectidly.

“That guy with the sunglasses is looking for you.” She says approaching the mirror.

You scoff in reply. Satoru Gojo. One of richest men, if not the richest man, in the city had become one of your semi-regulars. He’d come in about once a week to see you and he was always wearing those stupid sunglasses in the club.

“He can wait.” You say as you continue to touch up your makeup in the mirror.

“You really don’t care, do you?” Your friend laughs.

You shrug. Gojo always tipped you better than any customer that came in, but it was never enough to make you fall to your knees. You weren’t one to complain, though. Money was money and you definitely needed it.

“Not in the least bit.” You say moving on from your makeup and fixing your hair.

“The richest man in the city is obsessed with you and you don’t care?”

“I’d hardly say he’s obsessed with me.” You reply. Your friend kisses her teeth.

“I’d beg to differ. The only reason he comes in is to see you.” She says. “He’s obsessed. I bet you could easily be with the richest woman in the city.”

You laugh at her.

“Be serious.” You say doing your last touchups. “Isn’t he married anyway?”

Your question didn’t really mean much, though. Married men came in all the time, it was nothing strange to you. Your friend shrugs.

“I think he’d leave her for you.” She says with a smile. You laugh and turn towards her.

“How do I look?”

“Sexy. I can see why he’s obsessed with you.” She says, after giving you the once over.

“He’s not obsessed with me.” You reply easily. “Okay. Back out I go.”

You make your way to exit the dressing room and your friend calls after you.

“If you don’t want him, I’ll take him!”

You simply shake your head and exit the room.

As you walk out to the floor, the music is loud, the lights dim, and there are a couple of men scattered across the club. Honestly, you had grown used to club life and there were aspects of it that you actually enjoyed. You loved dancing and loved the persona you created when you were performing. Sure it was exhausting, but you got a thrilling rush of adrenaline when you danced. You liked how the men’s eyes swept over your body, wanting something they’d never be able to have. All of them were fawning over the false fantasy you sold.

You approach the stage and swap places with one of the other girls, ready to start your set. The dj announces your stage name and you plaster your face with the most angelic smile. You start your set by walking around the pole a few times and your attention is captured by bright white hair. Gojo’s smiling and despite the sunglasses covering his eyes, you know he’s staring directly at you. You do your best not to roll your eyes and begin dancing.

Suddenly, the music takes over you and the way you dance and swirl around the pole is effortless. You can hear the men watching you get excited as you swing yourself around on the pole and do a few tricks.

A few men hand you bills while you’re dancing, but most of them just watch. There were two types of men that watched, those that watched because they had no money to give and then there were those that watched and tipped you afterwards. You always found the former annoying. You couldn’t stand the ones that only paid the entry fee and then didn’t have anything else to give. Why were they here if they didn’t have money? Satoru, however, was the latter. He watched you and then would book a private dance with you. He did this every time he came to the club, without fail.

You continue dancing, stripping off your lingerie in the process. You found your way to the floor and roll your body sensually, watching the men as their eyes rake over your body. You smirk at them and proceed through your floor routine. You click your heels together, gaining more of their attention. You fan your legs open, putting your pussy on display, before closing your legs and moving to your knees. In that moment, your eyes find Gojo, and you swear you saw him bite his lip for a split second.

As you finish your set, a few more men hand you more bills and you thank them before exiting the stage. When you return to the dressing room you immediately gulp down water. You did your best not to show it when you were performing, but dancing took a toll on your body. As much as you loved it, it was exhausting. Honestly, you were tired and ready to go home. So, you stuff your money into your bag and pull out a change of clothes. You’re pulling your shirt over your head when you’re suddenly interrupted.

“Y/N, that guy wants to see you.” the house mom says coming in. You let out a huff.

“Well, tell him I said fuck off. I’m not in the mood to see him tonight.” You reply. It was a slow night and you were ready to leave. You just wanted to pour yourself a glass of wine and relax for the rest of the night.

“He says he’ll give you double what he gave you last time if you come see him.”

Double?

You consider it for a moment. You had been complaining all night about how it had been slow and now here was an opportunity for you to make up for it. The last time he was here, Gojo had paid for his dance and tipped you $500. If you saw him tonight then he would pay you a grand. You did really need the money. You let out a sigh.

“Tell him, I’ll be there in 5.”

After freshening up and pulling on a new lingerie set, you make your way to the private room Satoru always booked. You shove open the door and find Satoru sitting on the sofa with his legs spead wide open, facing the small stage. You make your way over to Satoru and sit on the stage across from him.

“What do you want Gojo? I’m not really in the mood.“ You say annoyed.

When Gojo booked a private dance with you the first time you kept the angelic persona he originally saw on stage, but that soon faded when Gojo started booking more private dances with you. He kept riling you up and one day you finally snapped at him. You were taken aback at the fact that you had lost your calm and you were sure Gojo wasn’t going to book with you anymore, but in that moment he only chuckled and told you “I like this you better.”. After that, you didn’t use your false persona around him.

“Now, that’s no way you should speak to your best customer.” Gojo replies with a smirk on his face. You roll your eyes.

“Tell me what you want, Gojo.”

Gojo motions for you to come closer to him and you eye him for a moment. You really weren’t in the mood for this, but the thought of money flashes across your mind and you make your way over to him. You stand between Gojo’s legs and his fingers trace lingerie on your body. Customers weren’t allowed to touch dancers, even during a private dance, but on account of Gojo tipping you so much, you allowed him to sneak in a few touches here and there. Though, he had only grown bolder the more he saw you.

“I like this set on you.” He whispers quietly, still tracing the lingerie. Behind his sunglasses, you’re sure his eyes are dragging against your body.

“You’re really starting to piss me off, Gojo.”

Gojo lets his hands fall down to his sides and he smirks at you.

“Dance for me, baby.” He says in a sultry tone.

You oblige, but only because he was paying you double your usual. You begin swirling your hips around and dancing for him. You grind gently into Gojo and throw your head back against his shoulder as you roll your body. This position leaves your neck exposed and you feel Gojo’s lips gently brush against your neck and then your ear. This, however, doesn’t faze you. Gojo always got too close to you.

“I have a proposition for you.” He whispers against your ear.

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

You’d become used to the games that Gojo played with you. He’d liked playing games with you and saying outlandish things to see your reaction.

“You sure you want to hear it?” He says brushing your thighs gently.

“Just spit it out, Gojo.” You say as you continue to swirl your hips around him. His breath tickles your neck and even though, Gojo said outlandish things all the time, you’re surprised at what comes out his mouth.

“Let me fuck you.”

You freeze your movements. Gojo had always made suggestive comments to you all the time, but he’d never actually said he wanted to fuck you.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Come on, princess. Let me show you a good time.” Gojo says, slowly drawing a line from your knee to your hip.

“I’m not going to let you fuck me, Gojo.” You say and continue with your dance. This had to be another one of his games.

“Why not? I promise, I’ll take good care of you.” Gojo says, resting his hands on your hips.

“You’re not fucking me, Gojo.” You say, swaying your hips side to side. “Definitely not for free, anyway.”

“Oh?” Your statement had piqued Gojo’s interest. “So how much would it take? A grand? Maybe five?”

You scoff.

“Aren’t you married?” You ask and Gojo laughs humorlessly.

“You think I’d be here with you if I cared about her?”

“Stop toying with me.”

“Oh baby, I can do a lot better than this.”

Your dance has led you back to being face to face with him. Gojo was wearing a boyish smirk. He licks his lips before speaking again.

“So tell me, how much would it take to feel your pretty pussy squeezing my cock?” Gojo asks, tapping his finger against your abdomen.

You consider it for a moment. Five grand was a lot of money and you really did need the money. And it’s not like Gojo was some sleaze, propositioning you. He was actually attractive from what you could tell, would it really be that bad to let him? It would only be one time, right? And it wasn’t like you were the one that suggested it…

“Five grand. In cash.” You say, eyeing him carefully. You still weren’t entirely sure if he was messing with you or not.

“Done.” Gojo replies a little too quickly. You tilt your head to the side.

“Stop playing games with me, Gojo.” You say.

Gojo reaches up to his face and pulls off his sunglasses. Your eyes widen at the sight of his cerulean blue eyes, staring directly into yours. Gojo came in to see you quite frequently, but you’d never seen his eyes. He was always wearing those stupid sunglasses. Now you understood why. You hated to admit it, but his eyes were gorgeous.

“I’m serious.” He says, not looking away from you. You decide to look away instead.

“Five grand.” You say, still not looking at him. “With the double you promised earlier.”

Gojo laughs quietly, but through the corner of your eye, you can see him nod.

“Anything you want princess.”

You return your gaze to him and Satoru is looking at you with desire in his eyes.

“Okay.” You say, agreeing to his proposition.

Gojo’s mouth was on yours in an instant. His lips are soft against yours and you can taste a trace of gin on his tongue. He kisses you with ferocity and it’s almost as if he’s trying to swallow you whole. Gojo pulls away from your lips and kisses your jaw gently, before making his way to your neck. His hands trail down your body while he nips at your neck. The feeling of his hands on you is exhilarating and you let out a soft moan when his lips find your sweet spot. He carefully slips his hand behind your back and unclasps your bra. Gojo cups your newly freed breasts and kneads at them. You can’t control the moan that slips out as he gently circles your nipples with his thumbs.

“Fuck, I’ve been waiting to do this for so long.” Gojo whispers, brushing his lips across your jaw.

He continues to toy with your nipples, pinching and pulling at them lightly and then running his thumbs over to soothe the sensation. He trails his lips down your neck and collarbones before peppering kisses along your breast and slipping your nipple into his mouth. Gojo pinches and twists one nipple while swirling his tongue around and sucking the other. You can’t stop the lewd noises from coming out your mouth. The way his tongue flicked against your nipple was sending you into a daze. Gojo lets your nipple fall out of his mouth with a pop before pinching and gently tugging at it.

“You’re making such pretty noises for me, baby.”

You want to say something smart back, but you’re unable to as Gojo picks you up and places you on the stage. Gojo traces a teasing finger around each of your breasts, down your stomach, and drags it agonizingly slow up and down your thighs. You involuntarily shudder at his touch. You rub your thighs together hoping for some sort of relief.

“Gojo if you’re going to do something, do it already.” You say, not appreciating the way he was teasing you.

“It’s Satoru.” He says, giving your nipple a rough pinch. You whine in response. “And for five grand, I think I’ll take my time with you.”

His hands trail lazily down your body once more before pulling your panties off and shoving your legs open roughly. Satoru positions himself between your legs and uses his thumbs to gently spread your lips a part.

“So pretty.” He says before using one of his thumbs to gently massage your clit. You can’t help the whimper that slips out of your mouth.

“You like that, princess?” Satoru asks, looking at you with a smirk. He continued teasing your clit and you didn’t want to admit it, but Satoru’s touch was intoxicating. You wanted more.

“Satoru, please.” You whine.

That awakes something in Satoru and he quickly attaches his mouth to you, causing you to arch your back. Satoru uses an arm to pin you down under him and teasingly swipes his tongue up your folds. You let out a sigh at the feeling of his tongue on you. Satoru swirls his tongue around your clit, licks up your folds, and then dives his tongue into your hole. You whine at the feeling of his tongue lolling against you.

“F-fuck Satoru. D-don’t s-stop.”

Satoru takes this as an invitation to replace his tongue with his finger and moves his tongue to your aching clit. Satoru teases his finger out of your dripping hole and then adds a second. He pumps his fingers in and out of you and sucks gently on your clit.

“Feels so good.” You manage to slur our through your whines.

Satoru begins pumping his fingers in and out of you at a faster pace, and makes a come hither motion with his fingers. You’re a mewling mess under him and you can feel your high approaching.

“���m g-gonna cum.” You manage to strangle out, completely focused on the pleasure Satoru is giving you.

Not long after you’re tumbling over the edge, spewing profanities. If it wasn’t for the loud music in the club, everyone would’ve heard you. Satoru continues to suck gently on your clit even after your high. You’re still sensitive, but that didn’t stop him from lapping up the mess you had made.

Satoru finally comes up and smiles at you. His smile stirs something deep in your core.

“Such a good girl for me.” He whispers before enveloping you in a kiss.

His tongue dances with yours, making sure you can taste every drop of yourself.

Satoru pulls away from your lips and gently strokes your cheek and then carefully traces your lips with his fingers. He pulls your bottom lip down with his middle finger and then slides his middle finger and ring finger into your mouth with ease.

“Suck.”

You’re taken by surprise at first, but then start sucking gently on his fingers. You swirl your tongue around his fingers and continue sucking. Satoru lets out a groan when you suck a little too roughly.

“Fuck, I wanna feel that pretty mouth wrapped around me.” Satoru says, pulling his fingers from your mouth. When he does a string of saliva follows and falls down your chin.

You watch as Satoru quickly frees himself and your eyes widen. You didn’t want to admit it but his cock was gorgeous. Satoru notices you staring and chuckles.

“Think you can take all of me?” Satoru asks cockily, tilting his head to the side. You quickly regain your composure and roll your eyes at him.

“Easily.” You reply. Satoru let’s out a chuckle and looks down at you.

“That mouth of yours is really going to get you into trouble, you know.” Satoru says as he strokes himself gently. You watch as his hand travels up and down his length. You swallow deeply and thoughts of him in your mouth quickly flood your mind. You lick your lips at the thought of him throatfucking you.

“Get on your knees for me.” Satoru commands and you oblige immediately.

Satoru positions himself in front of you and taps the head of his cock on your lips. You wrap your lips around him and run your tongue along the underside of his cock. Satoru lets out a quiet moan and you feel your core heat at the sound. You lower your head as far as it’ll go and take what you can’t fit in your mouth in your hand. You glance up to Satoru and your eyes meet his as you force your head down his cock. Satoru’s eyes are suddenly clouded with lust and all of a sudden his hands are on your head, shoving your mouth further down on his length. He throws his head back and lets out the most attractive moan you’ve ever heard. Something about seeing him that way only made you want to pleasure him more. Satoru continued to guide your head and thrusted in and out of your mouth. Your mouth was slick with saliva and you could feel drool running down your chin. You were completely focused on the feeling of him in your mouth and the lewd noises coming from his. You hollow your cheeks and Satoru let’s out a deep groan.

“F-fuck, princess.” Satoru says, thrusting into your mouth roughly. You gag as he slightly hits the back of your throat. Satoru continues his assault on your throat for a moment, then pulls out with a hiss.

“As much as I’d like to fill that mouth of yours, I need to feel your pretty pussy wrapped around me.” Satoru says. “Lie on your back for me.”

You do as he instructs and watch as Satoru yanks his shirt off and throws it somewhere in the room. Your eyes immediately rake over his toned body. You hated admitting it but, fuck, he was attractive. You’re taking in every inch of his body and Satoru notices you staring.

“Not having second thoughts are you, princess?”

You shake your head.

“Good.”

Satoru runs his tip against your entrance teasingly, before gently pushing in the head. You gasp at the contact and Satoru let’s out a groan. You can feel your walls clench around his length as he slowly sinks inside of you.

“Fuck, you’re even better than I imagined.” Satoru hisses through clenched teeth.

Satoru pulls back, leaving just the tip in, before pushing back inside you. He continues thrusting in and out of you gently. With each thrust your walls squeeze him, not wanting him to pull out.

You couldn’t control the whimpers coming out of you. Satoru felt so good inside of you. Your thoughts were completely focused on his cock dragging against your walls. He was filling you up just the way you needed. Satoru thrusts into you roughly and leans over you so that your body is flush with his. He continues fucking you as he peppers kisses along your neck and up to your ear.

“I’m going to fuck you, until all you can say is my name.”

Your insides twitch at his words and Satoru quickly picks up his pace, thrusting into you more fervently. The room fills with the sound of skin slapping and the slick sound of his cock diving in and out of your wet cunt. Thank heavens for the loud music at the club, or everyone would’ve heard the way Satoru was fucking you into oblivion.

Your eyes are rolled into the back of your head and Satoru’s loving every second of it. He lifts your leg to angle deeper inside you and slows his pace, fucking your deeper.

“F-fuck baby. You’re squeezing me so good.” Satoru groans.

He continues his agonizingly slow thrusts and takes note of the way you’re whining under him.

“Who’s making you feel this good?” Satoru asks, smirking down at you.

Your hands run against the stage trying to find something to grip onto, but your efforts are fruitless. Satoru continues his slow thrusts and it’s hard for you to focus on forming words with the way Satoru’s fucking you. Suddenly, Satoru pulls back, leaving just the tip of his cock inside you and you whine at the loss of him filling you up. You roll your hips in an effort to get him to fill you once more, but it’s hopeless. Satoru just smiles at your cock drunk state.

“Answer me and I’ll keep fucking you.”

Your cunt throbs at the idea of him fucking you more.

“Y-you are s-Satoru.” You stutter out, wanting to feel his cock inside of you again.

“There’s my good girl.”

And with that Satoru thrusts into you once more and somehow, you feel more full than you did before. He pumps in and out of you with perfect rhythm and with each thrust you feel your high building and building.

“G-gonna cum. F-fuck, ‘toru don’t stop.” You slur out.

Satoru can tell you’re close by the way your walls are tightening around his cock. His fingers quickly find your clit, making figure eights in order to guide you over the edge. The way his cock is slamming in and out of you and the feeling of his fingers on you sensitive spot is dizzying. It’s no wonder you’re a moaning mess when the pleasure comes crashing down on you.

“That’s a good girl.” Satoru praises you.

He curses at the way your walls are clenching around him. He watches as you roll your hips against him, riding out your high. You’re moaning his name and it’s sending him into a frenzy. His thrusts become sloppy and a moment later, he quickly pulls out of you, stroking his cock. Satoru pumps his cock a few times before cursing and shooting his load onto your stomach.

You watch as Satoru breathes heavily, lets out a huff and collapses on the stage next to you. He traces your collarbone with his finger and then strokes your cheek gently. You turn your head to face him and are met with those mesmerizing blue eyes. His white hair falls carefully over his features and you take that moment to admire him. Your eyes run over his features taking every detail of him, appreciating how beautiful he is, but the appreciation completely dies when he opens his mouth.

“Want to go for round two?” Satoru asks, with the same boyish grin he had earlier. You scoff and slap his chest playfully.

“Absolutely not.”

“What? Are you going to pretend that you weren’t moaning my name as I fucked that pretty pussy of yours?” Satoru asks, tracing teasing circles on your hip. You swat his hand away.

“I was totally faking it.” You reply, jokingly.

“Liar.” Satoru fires back, lips still tugged up in a smirk.

It falls quiet for a moment before Satoru speaks again.

“Is there anything around you can use to clean up?” Satoru asks, referring to the mess he made on your stomach.

“Pretty sure, there’s some paper towels in that closet over there.” You say, pointing to the door in the back of the room.

Satoru quickly moves from his place next to you and over to the closet. He rummages around before pulling out a roll of paper towels and making his way back to you. When Satoru passes you the roll you thank him and begin cleaning up his mess on your stomach. As you’re wiping away the mess, you watch as Satoru pulls on his clothes and replaces his sunglasses.

“We should do this again, sometime.” Satoru says, smirking. You can tell his eyes have a playful glint even though his sunglasses cover them. You scoff and roll your eyes.

“This was definitely a one time thing.” You say and move to put your lingerie back on. “I only did it because you were paying me.”

“Doesn’t mean you didn’t enjoy it.” Satoru says, watching as you pull your panties and bra back on.

“Where’s my money, Gojo?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest. Satoru frowns at you.

“I told you to call me Satoru.” He says.

“Fine. Where’s my money, Satoru?” You correct yourself. Satoru motions for you to come closer to him and you do.

“I really do like this color on you.” Satoru says, playing with the band of your panties.

“Satoru.” You say firmly.

“It’ll be waiting for you on your car when you leave.” He says, still playing with your panties. His thumb traces circles on your hip.

“How do you know what car I drive? And what if someone takes it off my car before I get to it?”

“No one’ll take it.” Satoru reassures you. He rests his hands on your hips.

“Okay, and how do you know what kind of car I drive?” You ask again. Satoru shrugs.

“I’ve seen you leave the club a few times.” Satoru admits. You eye him carefully.

“Don’t tell me I just fucked my stalker.”

Satoru laughs and shakes his head.

“Not stalking, promise. I’ve thought about stopping by more often, but you were always leaving when I got here.” Satoru explains.

“Yeah, I totally believe that.” You say, moving away from Satoru and making your way towards the door.

“We should do this again.” Satoru calls after you once more. You roll your eyes and turn back around to see him smirking.

“In your dreams Satoru.”

“Most definitely princess.”

[wangxianficrecs]

patching the road with vague intentions

patching the road with vague intentions

by loosingletters (@loosingmoreletters)

T, WIP, 39k, Wangxian

Summary: “What have you done!?” thundered a voice Wei Wuxian had, frankly speaking, never wanted to hear again. “Old man Lan?” Wei Wuxian blurted out, staring at the aged face of his former teacher. At the back of his mind, Wei Wuxian remembered the cut of his robes, that he wasn’t dressed like a widow at all, but like a Lan. Lan Qiren looked around, his gaze stuck somewhere above Wei Wuxian’s head, most likely the half-ruined summoning array behind him – fucking stupid, Wei Wuxian should’ve gotten rid of it immediately. Just why did it have to be a Lan summoning him, why Lan Qiren his visitor at the door? Wasn’t death enough punishment? “Wei Wuxian?” Lan Qiren asked wearily. Or, Wei Wuxian is summoned back to life in the Cloud Recesses. Unfortunately, the person to find him is Lan Qiren, forcing the unlikely duo to work together to keep the circumstances Wei Wuxian's return undiscovered. Kay's comments: Wei Wuxian and Lan Qiren go on a friendship-roadtrip - the story. I must admit that I'm always a bit hesitant when it comes to good uncle Lan Qiren stories, but so far, this one doesn't disappoint! It's not being too easy on him and it'll certainly take a lot of work (and a very long roadtrip) for him and Wei Wuxian to become friends, but it feels natural in this story. Here, Wei Wuxian gets summoned back earlier and in the body of Lan Wangji's wife. So far, there haven't been any gender-feelings on Wei Wuxian's front apart from him thinking how nice it would be to have a family with Lan Wangji hehe. Excerpt: But the letter was just that, a letter and nothing else. Wei Wuxian was stunned from the first line on. This had to be a joke, right? Wei Wuxian remembered Lan Zhan and Lan Qiren’s handwriting, and it certainly wasn’t theirs, but he doubted any Lan would dare indulge in such a horrible lying scheme. “You’re joking, aren’t you?” Wei Wuxian asked regardless and to his immense horror, Lan Qiren’s expression only tightened and not in the oh-no-I’ve-been-caught way, but the how-dare-you-suggest-this way. “Wang Chunhua is Lan Zhan’s wife?” Wei Wuxian stared down at his hands before catching sight of the bronze mirror again. This was the woman Lan Zhan had married? Wei Wuxian supposed she was pretty enough, with her round face and big eyes. Had the old fuddy-duddy fallen in love after all? Wei Wuxian had assumed Lan Zhan would end up unmarried for his whole life, admired but eternally unattainable. Her personality and skill must be outstanding if they’d married. “Read,” Lan Qiren ordered and for once, Wei Wuxian was inclined to obey.

pov lan qiren, pov wei wuxian, canon divergence, post-first siege of the burial mounds, resurrected wei wuxian, trans wei wuxian, developing friendship, good uncle lan qiren, hurt/comfort, golden core reveal, slow burn, mo xuanyu lives, a-qing lives, case fic, mystery

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

[gardenschedule]

Paul wrangling John

Brian Epstein made the Beatles PR conscious: he would say, ‘Don’t smoke on stage’ and things like that. I was very pleased that they stopped smoking on stage as I didn’t like it myself. He had no difficulty persuading Paul as he knew instinctively how a band should behave on stage, but John was a rebel and George could be difficult.

Bob Wooler, c/o Spencer Leigh, The Best of Fellas: The Story of Bob Wooler. (2002)

JOHN: The truth about the separation was she kicked me out . . . so I (laughter) was adrift at sea . . . and there was nobody to protect me from myself which is fine. I should be able to look after myself but I never had, and there was Epstein or Paul to cover up for me. I’m not putting Paul down and I’m not putting Brian down. They’d done a good job in containing my personality from not causing too much trouble.

Barbara Graustark, “The Real John Lennon.” Newsweek (September 1980)

JOHN (with mock horror): My “lost weekend”? It lasted for eighteen months. I was like an elephant in zoo, aware that it’s trapped but not able to get out. It’s an extension of the craziness that I’d been doing with the Beatles in Hamburg in Liverpool, but it had been covered up by the people surrounding us. So when I freaked out, there would be Paul or Epstein to say “What he really means is he’s just a normal boy from a normal family who likes to shear sheep.” And the machinery around us would take care of the business. By the time we got to America, we were old hands at it. But if you look back at the Beatles’ first national press coverage, it was because I sent a guy to the hospital for calling me a fag, saying I slept with Brian Epstein.

Barbara Graustark, “The Real John Lennon.” Newsweek (September 1980)

“But all the time Paul, and Brian Epstein we’re always trying to kill me from saying anything. But because I was in so much pain, I’d always get drunk or drugged, and I’d always say something that didn’t suit them. And so always, I would leave a piece of shit amongst the Beatles image. But all the time they tried to kill me and kill me and bring me down to be a Beatle, to be a nice boy, be a Beatle. But if you look from the career of the Beatles, the first national news the Beatles ever got in the English newspapers was when I nearly killed somebody at Paul’s party. So all the famous news the Beatles ever got besides being Go–angels, was when I did something terrible through being in so much pain. So they could never keep me down.”

Oct 1971 - John and Yoko interviewed during John’s 31st birthday celebration by reporter Takahiro Imura

"I constantly saw Lennon and McCartney together because Paul came along to see that I wasn't rude to John - who I can't say I got on with. Paul didn't want me to upset John."

Sir Joseph Lockwood - Northern Songs: The True Story of the Beatles Song Publishing Empire, Brian Southall, 2008

Sometimes, though, I certainly thought John was being a complete idiot. Even though I was younger, I would try to explain to him why he was being stupid and why something he’d done was so unlike him. I remember him saying things to me like, ‘You know, Paul, I worry about how people are gonna remember me when I die.’ Thoughts like that shocked me, and I’d reply, ‘Hold on; just hold it right there. People are going to think you were great, and you’ve already done enough work to demonstrate that.’ I often felt like I was his priest and would have to say, ‘My son, you’re great. Just don’t worry about that.’

Paul McCartney, in The Lyrics (2021).

It came as a welcome relief that John and Paul, along with Neil Aspinall, planned a quick trip to New York on May 11, where several press events had been scheduled to announce Apple Records in the States. Friends agreed that getting John away might do him a world of good; being alone, with just Paul to steady him, might have a calming influence. Paul was grappling with his own set of anxieties. “We wanted a grand launch,” Paul said, “but I had a strange feeling and was very nervous.” Drugs, he later admitted, may have been at the root of his problem

Bob Spitz, The Beatles: The Biography, 2005

“The setting is the Blue Angel and Paul McCartney is upstairs talking to some press people, while in the basement is John Lennon shooting his mouth off, well away with the drink or whatever. He said, “Hitler should have finished the job”, meaning that the gas ovens should have been more active than they were. His manager was Jewish and I prevailed upon him to be quiet because the press were upstairs, but he didn’t take any notice of me. I told Paul that John was shooting his mouth off and that the press must not get wind of it. ”

Bob Wooler, c/o Spencer Leigh, Best of the Beatles: The Sacking of Pete Best. (2015)

“The party was at Auntie Gin’s house in Huyton. By now, Paul could afford a marquee in the garden.This is inside the house, where my comedy group, Scaffold, are performing for the guests. John Gorman and Roger McGough are onstage, and I’m photographing reactions to the act. The jokes are going well with Paul, his girlfriend Jane Asher, and an old school chum, Ivan Vaughn, but John Lennon was so pissed he kept shouting, ‘That’s not funny’ (until Paul told him to ‘Shhh!,’ which he did)…” -

Mike McCartney

[After John pours a beer on Chris Montez' head and starts a brawl] Everyone settled down in their seats. Paul McCartney tried to make peace with Chris. Chris said, “Paul sat by me and said, ‘Come on, Chris, let’s be friends….’ “I said, ‘Paul, just get away from me, I don’t want nothing to do with you guys. You know, you pissed me off!” As for Lennon, Chris recalled, “John? I guess he was a wise guy. But I got the sense that, I shouldn’t say this, that he was jealous of who I was or what I did. I don’t know what his problem was, but I didn’t like it too much.”

THE TRUTH BEHIND THE BRAWL BETWEEN JOHN LENNON AND CHRIS MONTEZ IN 1963! EXCLUSIVE!

JOHN: I used to try to get George to rebel with me. I’d say to him, “Look, we don’t need these fuckin’ suits. Let’s chuck them out of the window.” My little rebellion was to have my tie loose with the top button of my shirt undone. Paul’d always come up to me and put it straight.

John

PAUL: There’s a story that I used to straighten John’s tie before we went on stage. That seems to have become a symbol of what my attitude was supposed to have been. I’ve never straightened anyone’s tie in my life, except perhaps affectionately.

The Times Profile of Paul McCartney – 1982

I spoke to Paul about this night many years later, and he confirmed that he and George had been shaken rigid when they found out we were up on the roof. They knew John was having a what you might call a bad trip. John didn’t go back to Weybridge that night; Paul took him home to his place, in nearby Cavendish Road. They were intensely close, remember, and Paul would do almost anything for John. So, once they were safe inside, Paul took a tablet of LSD for the first time, 'So I could get with John’ as he put it- be with him in his misery and fear.

George Martin, With a Little Help from My Friends: The Making of Sgt. Pepper

AW: Isn’t he? Well, you know, of all the people, he comes through a lot of stick. Or a lot of people think he comes through a lot of stick in my book. But that’s the way John behaved. He behaved really outrageously. And Paul used to pour the oil on the troubled waters, as it were. But of all the people, only John, out of all the Beatles, have said that my book is the only book that gives a true insight to what it was to be an early Beatle. I admire him for that.

All You Need Is Love – Peter Brown & Steven Gaines

“We were in a daydream till he came along. We had no idea what we were doing. Seeing our marching orders on paper made it all official. Brian was trying to clean our image up, but, at the same time, he didn’t want us suddenly looking square. He would tell us jeans were not particularly smart and could we possibly manage to wear proper trousers. He literally fuckin’ cleaned us up! There were great fights between him and me, over me not wanting to dress up, and he and Paul wanting me to dress up. In fact, he and Paul had some kind of collusion to keep me straight.

The Beatles Off the Record (Keith Badman)

[nichuuu]

Dried Things & Humanity

말린 것들과 인류

Word count: 13k+ SMUTLESS FIC

"The world, after all, was still a place of bottomless horror. It was by no means a place of childlike simplicity where everything could be settled by a simple then-and-there decision" ~Osamu Dazai

Dried flowers. 

They sat by your bedside, a constant reminder of how far you would go for love—A love that would never be anything more than a short-lived euphoria. They’d died some time ago, wilting rather quickly under a lack of care, but you kept them. The text that came when spring first rolled around saying hey let’s break up was not expected, neither was the part where she blocked you, nor was the part where you almost jumped off a bridge. Yet it all happened, a confusing, muddled, mish mash of events that went down over the span of a week. If it weren’t for your friends, you would be at the bottom of the river by now, joining your grandfather and maybe your family dog up in the clouds, or wherever it was that spirits wandered to. At the moment, getting out of this life didn’t seem like too bad of an idea.

You stupid child! Your mother had chided when she found out about what you almost did. What do you think you would’ve achieved with that? What good will it do? 

Then she hugged you, held you tight and sobbed as she thanked god for letting you live another day. Frankly, you didn’t know what was the appropriate response for your mother. You opted to hug her back, tearfully whispering your endless apologies to her. Even though you promised to never make another attempt on your life, the fear of losing her only boy still lingered in your mother’s mind. Your mother and father were always in the office. So, in fear that living alone would drive you to the worst possible option, she sent you to live with your uncle who ran a secondhand bookshop in a small town not too far from the city. She filled him in with what happened and pleaded for him to help you “recover”.

“Don’t worry little sis,” he assured your mother. He threw an arm around you, “I’ll take care of him like he’s my own son. We’ll get along, won’t we?”

Park Sang-hoon—the people living in the area called him “the librarian”—was your mother’s older brother. You hadn’t seen him since you graduated from middle school, and he’d certainly aged from the last time you saw him. The hair that was once jet black and slicked back was turning white and receding. The same friendly complexion remained however, the amiable smile that you remembered greeting you when he opened the door to his house. It was a stone's throw away from the bookstore.

The house and the business had been imparted upon him by your grandparents. It was relatively small, but there was enough room for the two of you to live with your own privacy (though that didn't really matter since he’d just come barging into the room you stayed in anyway.)

The door to your room flung open. “Hey kid! Rise and shine!”

You grumbled something incoherent and pulled the blanket over your head. 

“Up! Up! It’s time to get up!” your uncle bellowed in a sing-song tone, “there are so many things to see and do! Get up you lazy child!”

Your blanket was yanked off your entire body.

“Is this really necessary?” you snapped. Your uncle grinned.

“No. But it’s fun,” he beamed. You rolled your eyes and rolled onto your left side, you back facing him, 

“Leave me alone…” you muttered, “let me sleep…”

“I’ve been letting you do that for the past week,” your uncle huffed, “now your mother is calling me, demanding to know if you’d even emerged from this room. She said some mean things to me, you know?”

You sighed and turned onto your back. “I’ll go out tomorrow…”

Your uncle sighed. “Let me tell you something…”

Let me tell you something was the signal for you to tune out. “Let me tell you something”, “Let me tell you this”—your uncle always said these before he launched into a long rambling story that really added no value to what he was trying to say. It was either that or he’d leave you with a cryptic message to decipher yourself. You never understood why he did that, it was probably just an old people thing.

By the time he was done with his little storytime, you were still in bed. With another heavy sigh, your uncle said, “fine… If you’re not gonna go anywhere today, at least come and help me with the store.”

Your mind told you to stay in bed, but your body told you that you needed to get outside. You decided to listen to the latter party for once. 

The bookshop was old, one of those shophouses down a stretch of road that townsfolk usually walked past on the daily. Needless to say, the store wasn’t the most appealing from the outside. The inside however—That was something else.

You remembered visiting the bookstore with your mother once or twice. A stack of books nearly fell on you that time, and your uncle was berated rather viciously. He’d definitely made some improvements in the time you were away. The store was warm, cosy and relatively organised. The shelves were evidently a little worn from the years, but they still looked and felt sturdy to the touch.  It was a welcoming environment, the interior bearing a striking resemblance to a bookstore of the early 90s.

“I’ve kept up with the times!” your uncle boasted proudly, “nowadays everyone and their mothers are all into this retro aesthetic, so I made sure to keep as much of the hip and cool retro feel.”

Your uncle definitely did his research. You couldn’t help but look upon the shelves filled with books with awe. “This is…”

“Pretty lit, am I right?” your uncle grinned. You cringed.

Your uncle frowned. “What? Did I not use the phrase correctly?”

“N-No it’s just… Ah whatever,” you muttered.

“Damn… I swear I had the meaning for that one down,” your uncle muttered, “the slang of the youth… Such an odd thing.”

After giving you a little more time to admire the place, your uncle tossed you an apron and instructed you to put it on. 

“I’m alright with letting you stay with me for free,” your uncle told you as he helped you tie the strings of the apron behind your back, “but I won’t let you wallow in this post-breakup sadness all day.”

He spun you around, his hands gripping your shoulders tightly. “You just graduated from highschool, no?”

You nodded. 

“Perfect, you’ll need some job experience then,” he grinned, “from now on. You’ll work for me till your stay here is over!”

And so it began. From that day onwards, you started filling shelves, dusting books, pasting on price tags and flipping through pages of books that had been sold to the store to assess the state of the book. It was far from enjoyable in the beginning. It felt akin to the life of Andy Dufrane in Shawshank redemption, the same old routine repeated day after day in what felt like an endless cycle. You were up early in the morning to open the shop with your uncle, the brown apron on your person by 7am in the morning and the door to the shop open by 9am after you were with the opening up preparations. You had to flip the plastic sign hanging on the door from “open” to “closed” every morning, and from “open” back to “closed” in the late evenings. Lunch was usually around 12pm, where your uncle would go out to one of the nearby restaurants to get lunch for the two of you. You’d sit opposite each other in the small break room that sat behind the counter, munching on whatever he bought. 

Handling customers was also another gruelling task. You admittedly didn’t have a voracious appetite for books, many authors sounding foreign to you. A good majority of the books that the store had on hand were classics from esteemed authors, varying in language, length and appeal. When customers asked you what you’d recommend, you could only shrug, earning yourself a nasty gare before they walked off. When they asked about the disparity between the prices of the same book, you could only stare blankly before calling to your uncle.The store had duplicates of some books, the only thing separating the copies being the cover art or the type of book cover. 

“Let me tell you something,” your uncle had told you one fine day, “hardcover books are much more valuable than the usual soft cover books. You want to know why?”

That last part wasn’t a question, rather more of a filler. Apparently, a hardcover was typically more durable, allowing it to better protect the pages within. This meant that the book would stay in better condition for longer. Ultimately, the process and materials needed for hardcover book printing were more expensive, hence this cost is passed on to readers. 

“Capitalism,” you muttered, placing the hardcover version of Greek Lessons by Han Kang on the shelf. 

As for the cover art—Some covers were objectively more appealing than the other, making the book more valuable. This was the case for Osamu Dazai’s No Longer Human. The two covers looked about the same to you. 

 On some days, you wondered how such an old secondhand bookstore could’ve lasted for so long. There were days where you only sold two books for little Won each, and those were typically on weekdays where some of the townsfolk—usually on the more elderly side—would come through the doors and browse through the books. But on the weekends, you were reminded just how hectic this place could get. The youth from the city loved to flood the shop over the weekends, making the commute from the heart of the country to this small shop in a small town to browse through the seemingly endless selection of books.The line to the counter often snaked out the door and onto the street on those days, and your fingers would be aching by the end of the day—A byproduct of gripping those handles of those paper bags while struggling to get them open.

After a week or two, you got used to the whole routine. It didn’t help to remove the monotony of your tasks however, and you often found yourself wondering how your uncle could run this place on his own for so long. With the memories of your ex still tormenting your mind, you found it hard to focus on your tasks at times. Sometimes, you just didn’t want to get up in the mornings. The dried flowers by your bedside were a constant reminder of the pain. You’d bought them for her on the day that text came, now you couldn’t let go of them.

One evening, your uncle decided to close up the shop a little earlier. It’d been a slow Wednesday, so there was no harm in resting up a little earlier than usual. 

“Come with me,” he told you after he’d locked the shutter in place, “I want to take you somewhere.”

You walked up the stretch with him, walking past the rows of shophouses that lined the street. You saw bookstores that looked similar to your uncle’s a couple of times, prompting you to wonder just how many people sold secondhand books on this stretch. 

He took you to a small bridge at the end of the road. It was one of those old, traditional Korean bridges with the stone tiling that arched over the water. He took you up to its apex and made you look out into the water. 

“What do you see?” he asked you.

“Is this one of those stupid lectures again?” you muttered.

“Just answer me.”

You sighed. “I see the water and some trees.”

“Good. What else?” he urged. 

“There’s nothing else,” you told him.

“Wrong. Look again.”

You rolled your eyes and set your sights a little further. “I see Cogongrass.”

“What else?”

You were certain that this was one of his stupid little talks again. “Just tell me what you want to say, uncle!”

“Always so impatient…” he chuckled.

Gently, he grabbed your chin and tipped it up. With his other hand, he pointed out into the distance—Past the trees, water, the cogon grass and the roofs of the shophouses. There, you saw the mountains and the roads that stretched for kilometres, the faint shape of those big blue signs that pointed you in the directions to different places.

“You limit yourself to what you see in this area,” he explained, “but you fail to see past this river and this small town.”

He turned you back to face him. You were a little taller than him, so he had to look up at you. He placed both his hands on your shoulders, holding them firmly. 

“You must learn to set your sights further, dear nephew,” he told you, “learn to see past the trees and the water in your mind. Then and only then, will you be able to live once more.” 

The cryptic message left you admittedly puzzled on the way home. It took you some thinking to read between the lines and understand what your uncle had told you—You had to look past the memories of your ex in order to move on with your life. 

“Excellent,” your uncle had praised when you knocked on his door to ask if your interpretation of his message was correct, “I hope that you can remember this. I hate to see you moping around my store. It scares my customers away too!”

Your first step in looking past the memories was to toss out the dried flowers from your bedside. Even though it was painful, you did it. You knew you needed to.

In its place by your bedside, you bought an alarm clock—one of those old ones that still used the hammers to knock the two small bells—And a framed photograph of the town. You bought both of them from one of the nice old ladies who ran a souvenir shop just down the road. 

It was the start of a new beginning. It felt like you were human once more.

***

Dried Persimmon.

That was what you were munching on when you were handed your first paycheck from your uncle.

“W-Why are you paying me?” you stammered, “I-I thought this was just something to occupy my time!”

“I may be cheap, but I won’t exploit my own nephew!” your uncle laughed, “now quit sneaking snacks on your shift and get back to work!” 

You knew that your uncle was generous, but you never expected him to be this generous. With a smile, you wiped the bits of the dried fruit from the corners of your lips before pocketing the envelope. 

“Thanks,” you beamed. You raised the small jar of dried persimmons and asked, “want one?”

“Tsk. I’m a professional, I don’t eat on my shift,” he sneered. 

“You sure?” you confirmed, “this is a fresh batch from Miss Cho’s…”

“From Miss Cho’s?” he gasped, “gimme some of that!”

You had become well acquainted with the townsfolk, especially with the ones that ran the stores on the same stretch as the bookstore. Sometimes, the sweet old ladies from down the road would come in to deliver some gifts to you and your uncle. Everyone seemed to be friends in this town. Miss Cho was one of the many townsfolk that specialised in dried goods. A sweet lady really, a little older than your mother but not as old as your uncle. Persimmons were seasonal fruits, so they were naturally high in demand in late spring. 

You let your uncle take one piece of the dried fruit before closing the lid and setting it atop the table in the break room. Your uncle stepped aside to let you exit, and you went to continue your shift. 

Surprisingly, it didn’t take too long to move on from your ex. Yes, you did share some fond memories with her, but you found these “core memories” made with her easy to forget. She no longer appeared in your dreams, neither did you think about her when you were going about your tasks. She’d become a distant pain, a pain that you never intend to revisit. 

Once, she did happen to come by the bookstore on a weekend. She walked into the crowded store, hand in hand with a brand new boyfriend while you were calculating somebody’s purchase. You caught yourself staring at her as she browsed through the books, her boyfriend lingering close by as he read over her shoulder. It was then that your uncle firmly grabbed you by the shoulder. He’d seen pictures of her. He could recognise her on sight

“Look past the trees and the water,” he reminded you, before going back to checking out books. You tore away your gaze from them and continued with your work.

When she came out to the counter to pay, the look of shock on her face almost made you want to double over in laughter. Swiftly and wordlessly, you took her books and packaged them neatly in a bag. 

“That will be forty-thousand Won ma’am,” you had smiled respectfully. She was still staring at you, her mouth open in the shape of an “o”.  Her boyfriend had to pay and take the goods from you before directing her out of the store. 

When they left, your uncle gave you a gentle pat on your hand. Well done was what he was trying to say. 

True to your uncle’s lesson, once you had gotten over her, you felt like you were alive. You found that you quickly took a liking to this new lifestyle, immersing yourself in the wide array of books that were at your disposal and even taking home a few to read. It felt like a fresh new chapter had begun in your life, and you were more than ready to welcome its start. The monotony was now welcomed in this slower-paced segment of your life.

“By the way,” your uncle called to you as you set down a box of books. He’d just bought them off a guy moving overseas. “I have a feeling that business will start to pick up soon!’

“Why’s that?” you asked.

“You’ll see…” he smiled. He popped another dried persimmon into his mouth. “Damn! This batch is bussin!”

You cringed. You could get used to life in this small town, but you knew that you’d never get used to your uncle throwing out the slang of your generation. You wondered if he had Tik Tok on his phone or if he’d seen one too many Instagram reels.

With your box cutter, you cut open the tape that sealed the cardboard box, the one that housed the goods. You opened the box. 

“The hell…” you muttered as you stared at the books within, “who did you get these off?”

“Some preschool principal. What’s up?” your uncle asked. 

You produced one of the many alarmingly thin books from the box. “Hate to break it to you but… These are all children’s books.”

Your uncle was never one to swear, but he made a rare exception for that moment. 

“Fuck!” he cussed rather loudly, “I should’ve asked what the contents were!”

You chuckled and placed the book back into the cardboard box. “Don’t worry uncle, we can always sell these to the daycare, can’t we?”

“Bourgeoisie scumbag! I paid a lot for that!” your uncle continued to ramble. You decided that it would be best to silently push the box into the storeroom while he let his frustrations out.

***

Dried leaves. 

That's what you were sweeping when a black van rolled into the stretch of street. The front doors opened and a man and a woman stepped out. It was early autumn. The leaves of those trees that grew next to the bookstore—Once beautiful and elegant in nature—became pesky as their leaves had begun to wither and fall. Your uncle saw the mess outside the store and immediately got you to start sweeping it up. He couldn’t stand the sight of it.

You halted your broom as the man and woman approached you. 

“Hello,” the woman greeted you, “is this Park’s second hand books?” 

You nodded and pointed at the sign above you. The woman grinned. She turned and told the man to get the gear out. 

You recognised the city accent in their voices. 

The man wrapped around the vehicle and opened the trunk. You tried to look into the van but found that the tinted windows didn’t let you see anything. The man came back around, a heavy video camera—those ones they used to film movies—on his shoulder. The woman approached the door of the van and pulled it open. 

Five girls got out of the van, selfie sticks with Gopros attached to the end in their hands as they filed out of the vehicle one by one. It took a moment for you to recognize the five of them, and another moment to realise that there were global superstars standing right before you. 

In a wordless panic, you dropped the broom and bolted into the store. Your uncle was behind the counter, counting the bills in the cash register when you called him.

“ITZY is in front of the store!” you exclaimed. Your uncle cocked his head.

“ITZY?” he inquired, “is that a new slang or something?”

“N-No! T-Their idols, uncle! There are idols outside the door!” 

It took a moment for your uncle to process what you’d said. Then, he simply smiled. 

“Right… I forgot to tell you about that,” he said. He placed the bills he had been counting back into the register and walked out from behind the counter. 

“Oooh… These girls are much prettier in person,” your uncle mused as he walked by. He opened the door to the store and stepped outside. You could hear his booming voice through the open door. “HELLO! WELCOME! WELCOME!” 

You could hear them exchanging greetings outside the store. Hurriedly, you scanned around the store, looking for any signs of mess. There were thankfully none.

“Come in! It’s rather cold out,” your uncle said, “it’s much warmer in here!”

You quickly stood up straighter, your hands by your sides as the five ITZY girls walked through the door of the store. 

“Welcome to the store!” your uncle grinned, “that over there is my nephew, he runs the place with me for now.”

The girls turned. The feeling of five pairs of eyes on you was nerve-wracking, and the two cameras that started to flank you on either side weren’t helping to ease your nerves. Where did the second camera come from? You couldn’t help but wonder.

You gulped, a tug of war between waving and bowing to the girls ensuing in your head as you stared blankly. 

“He’s uh… A little shy,” your uncle chuckled. Then he gave you a look, one that said hurry up and say hello you dense child.

There was no victor in the mental tug of war. In the end, you resorted to an awkward half wave, half bow. The girls sniggered at your greeting.

Then and there, you wanted to shrink down and hide in the shelf behind you. 

The woman from earlier started speaking to the girls. “This is the final place. Now, we will draw lots to see who goes where!”

She produced a handful of popsicle sticks. The girls started talking about how nervous they were, giggling amongst themselves as they started to draw the sticks one by one. Your uncle stood by the woman, a small smile on his face as he patiently awaited the result.

“Oh. Looks like I’ll be working here!” Shin Yuna smiled as she looked at her stick. You weren’t sure if it was excitement or disappointment that you heard in her voice. 

“Excellent!” your uncle beamed. “How old are you?”

“Nineteen going twenty, sir!” Yuna answered bubbly. 

“Ah! Looks like my nephew will have a friend of his age then!” your uncle laughed. 

“E-Eh?” you blurted, “w-what’s happening?”

Your uncle walked up next to you. He put an arm around your shoulder.

“I’ll explain later,” he whispered.

Yuna giggled and cleared the hair from her face. You made eye contact with her. 

She grinned. 

You felt a burning sensation on your face. 

***

Dried Pollack soup.

That was what you ate with your uncle as people came in to set up cameras around the store. Every corner, every angle, every millimetre was covered by at least one Gopro.

“They said in the email that it was for their Youtube,” your uncle told you, “they're gonna live in this town for a bit, work at some of the stores… Taking a break from their idol activities apparently.”

“B-But why the bookstore?” you inquired. Your uncle shrugged.

“I don’t know. They sent me a 30 page proposal that I didn’t bother to read. I figured that having idols in our store would help boost our business. Get people from other parts to come here—You know what I’m saying?” 

You did not know what he was saying. The whole situation was so overwhelming. An idol working at the bookstore? For how long? What did you need to do?

A knock came on the break room door. You turned and saw a man standing there, Gopro in hand.

“Sorry to disturb you, but can I put a camera in here?” he asked politely. 

Your uncle gave him a look and asked, “is that completely necessary?”

“I-I mean… If you guys are okay with it,” you replied. Your uncle sighed.

“Take the soup out,” he instructed you, “give them space to set up…”

***

A very, very dry mouth. 

That's what you had when Yuna walked into the store for her first day of work. 

She was tailed by one cameraman and another woman, both of them wearing the same shirt that read “JYP CREW”. You could feel the cold sweat on your palms as you handed her the apron that already had her name tag on it. With a rather apparent stutter, you welcomed her to her new job. She smiled, that radiant smile that you’d only seen on your phone screen now right before you. It sent a warm fuzz down your spine. 

Your uncle showed her around, breaking down the various jobs to her as you opened up a box of books—they weren’t children’s books this time—and got to filling the shelves. You could hear every word that came out from your uncle's mouth as you explained the tasks that the idol was to undertake, as well as the opening and closing timings of the store. He finished his run down just as you finished placing the last book from the box on the shelf.

“What should I do now?” you heard her ask. 

“Go help my nephew. I think he could use a hand,” your uncle replied.

“Right! On it!” came her bubbly reply. 

You could feel your heart beating faster as you felt her get closer and closer. 

A tap on your shoulder.

“Hello!’ she greeted you, “let’s work well together!”

You managed to sputter out something. She asked for instructions on what she should do. You blanked out for a second. Then tremulously, you reached into your apron and pulled out the second box cutter. 

“U-Um,” you began. “T-There’s a box of… B-Books in the store… Just… Just uh…”

Her gaze felt piercing even though it was gentle. It’d been awhile since you’d stood before a girl this gorgeous. Your nineteen-year-old hormones were getting to you, sweat beading your forehead as you struggled to give the idol instructions. 

Then suddenly, you ran away. You didn’t know why you ran, but you just ran out of the store and down the street. Getting away from the store was your main task, and you ran quite a good distance in the chilly autumn air before you finally ran out of breath. Clammy, tense and exhausted, you rested outside one of the shophouses along the stretch. 

“Fuck… What’s wrong with me?” you questioned yourself. It was like you’d never talked to a girl in your life. 

It only took a second or two for the adrenaline to fade. In its place came embarrassment as you buried your face in your hands. What are you doing you stupid idiot! Why did you run? You chided yourself, beating your cheek with your own palm. 

You heard someone call your name. You raised your head.

“Why are you slapping yourself in front of my store?” Miss Cho inquired. She was pushing a cart full of pears. They were probably freshly harvested. 

“Oh… Hey Miss Cho,” you greeted her, “I was just… I-I don’t know…”

You ended up pushing Miss Cho’s cart back up the street. 

“She’s a what now?” Miss Cho pressed.

“An idol Miss Cho,” you explained. You eventually got around to telling her the reason as to why you were beating yourself in front of her shop. The concept of someone singing and dancing for a living sounded completely foreign to Miss Cho—Someone who spent most of her life drying fruits and making snacks—So you had to explain it to her. 

“Ah… I remember my daughter saying something about it,” Miss Cho mused, “so… Why did you run away from her?”

“I… Don’t know,” you told her truthfully, “I guess I just freaked out.”

“Because she’s famous?” she pressed. You thought about it for a moment, then you nodded.

Miss Cho stopped addressing you for a moment to greet Mrs Han, the lady that ran one of the restaurants on the stretch with her husband. Miss Cho gave the restaurant owner a whole carton worth of pears, telling Mrs Han to make something tasty out of them before the two of you continued moving along.

“Why are you scared of an Idol?” she continued to question.

“I-I don’t know… I-I guess it’s because she’s popular and all, so I’m scared that I’ll make a fool of myself in front of her,” you reasoned. 

Miss Cho hummed and nodded. “I see…” 

She stopped once more, this time in front of the sweets store. You helped her pull out a crate of apples from the bottom of the stacks of pears and handed it to the store owner. Miss Cho requested for a batch of the sweets when they were ready before the two of you got to moving again. 

“So… Why does this girl being this idol make her any less normal than you?” she asked. 

“P-Pardon?” you stuttered, “I-I never… I never said that…”

Miss Cho chuckled, one of those nice Ahjumma laughs that could warm one’s heart. “You did not, but the way you spoke of her implied it.”

You let that sink in for a moment. Now that you thought of it, you’d made Yuna sound like some high and mighty god that could smite you with a snap of her fingers.

“Just because someone has millions of fans doesn't mean that they’re any less of a human than you and I,” Miss Cho told you, “just because someone is adored doesn't make them more superior. If that was the case, I’d be a warlord by now!”

The dried fruits specialist cackled at her own joke. She always had a tendency to do that.

“You see… The problem with fame is that everyone places you on a pedestal,” she continued, “a mistake could cost your whole reputation. A good choice could gain you more popularity. It’s a never ending game, dehumanising in the sense that these famous people can’t afford to live normal lives. Why? Because they’re not considered normal! That’s not right if you ask me…”

You were wondering where this knowledge was coming from. You made it a mental note to talk to Miss Cho a little more. Was it normal for all the old people in this town to be so wise?

The two of you finally stopped in front of the bookshop. Miss Cho instructed you to take in a crate of pears, assuring you that she could make the rest of the journey down the street herself. You waved goodbye to her and prepared to enter once more.

“Remember,” she called to you. You were just about to open the door. “That girl is human. Treat her the way you’d treat any other human.”

She left you with that nugget of wisdom before she bade you farewell and continued with her journey up the street. You sat on her words for a moment before you entered the bookstore once more. 

Yuna’s head snapped towards the door when she heard the chime of the door. You made eye contact with her. 

Human. 

With a smile, you carried the crate into the store and asked, “pears anyone?”

***

A dry wipe. 

That’s what you gave Yuna to clean the dust off the shelves. Two weeks had elapsed since she’d started working with you and your uncle. You never got used to the fact that there were always cameras around you, nor did you ever get used to the fact that the woman and the cameraman would pull you aside and ask for your opinions on Yuna as an employee every now and then. You would always try to be as honest as possible, excluding any embarrassing slip ups she made in an effort to not badmouth the girl.

Within her first week here, she’d already clocked in late once. She apologised furiously that day, working twice as hard to compensate for her mistake. Standing tall, she could reach for the things that customers couldn’t, making her a great help to the regulars. She learnt quickly, finding the most optimal way to replenish the shelves by her fourth day and figured out the best way to assess the state of the book on her fifth.

Weekends had become more packed because of her, the word that Shin Yuna from ITZY was working at the store getting out rather quickly within the first Saturday she worked here. The next day, you had a flock of Midzy’s in front of the store 3 hours before opening. You had to guide Yuna in through the back entrance to prevent her from being swarmed. While Yuna greeted her fans that came to see her in the store with a big smile, you couldn’t help but notice the hint of tiredness behind her eyes. It was like she didn’t really want to be there, but she had no other choice

Now, she was doing an excellent job getting the dust off the top shelves. 

“I think that’s good enough Yuna,” you told her. She turned to look at you.

“You sure? I think it still needs one more round,” she told you.

“I’ll take your word for it,” you told her, handing her another sheet of dry wipes while you took the blackened one from her hands.

“This is great,” she told you, beginning her final round of cleaning, “it makes me feel like I’m at home again. I feel like I’m a kid.”

Here’s the thing about Yuna—Her joy was contagious. When you saw that smile on her face, you couldn’t help but smile along with her. The silliest things could make her grin, and you’d end up grinning with her even though you didn’t find it amusing. You were convinced that it was a special skill of the sort. 

Yuna wiped up whatever dust she could find, leaving no stone unturned as she completed her task. It was almost closing time, a relatively slow day for the bookstore as usual. Yuna had been completing her shifts diligently, only ever disappearing for lunch and toilet breaks. 

Hell… If she wasn’t some bigshot idol, I’d have her employed full-time in a heartbeat! your uncle had told you over lunch one day. You couldn’t help but agree with him. 

“There! All clean!” Yuna exclaimed. 

“Could you show us the cloth, Yuna?” the lady producer asked her. 

For a moment, you saw a hint of annoyance behind her eyes. Then the usual, childlike wonder took its place and Yuna presented the cloth to the camera.

“Ta-da! All clean!” she beamed proudly. You politely clapped your hands in the background. The female producer gave Yuna a thumbs up before tapping the cameraman’s shoulder. “I think we can wrap up for the day.”

The two turned and walked out of the store. Yuna waited till both of them had exited before letting out a deep sigh. 

“Break from idol activities? Yea right…” she muttered, stepping off the step ladder. You stretched out your hand to take the dry wipe from Yuna. She suddenly seemed to remember that you were there, and that bright smile returned to her face. She handed you the dry wipe, all bubbly and smiley.

“I’m going to wash my hands in the bathroom, boss!” she told you. You nodded and let her go. She skipped off towards the back entrance. Your uncle walked out of the storeroom. He was drenched in sweat, his green shirt turning dark under the moisture.

“Hand me a towel would you?” he requested. You quickly walked behind the counter and tossed him his slightly moist towel. He caught it, smiled, then wiped his sweaty face.

“Who knew organising could take so much out of me?” he chuckled. He looked around. “Where’s Yuna?”

“Bathroom,” you explained. Your uncle gave you his Ah I see expression. Then he took a look at his watch. “Let’s get ready to close up shop.”

You nodded and walked over to the door. As you were about to flip the sign from “open” to “closed”, you saw Yuna walking back towards the shop. You raised an eyebrow.

Coming in from the back would’ve been much quicker…

As she got closer, you could make out the tired look on her face. Then you realised that the cameraman and the female producer were following her once more. So much for wrapping up you thought to yourself as you pushed the door open.

“Yuna!” you called to her, “come in! We’re gonna start closing up!”

The weary look disappeared in a flash. Yuna smiled from ear to ear and began jogging towards the store. You found that the cameraman and producer were far from wrapping up, following the idol back into the bookshop like chicks tailing their mother. 

“H-Hey um… Didn’t you guys say you were wrapping up?” you asked the producer. She turned and looked at you.

“We need as much content as we can get. Gotta keep going,” she told you. Then she left to catch up with the camera man. You were suddenly ill at ease. 

They continued to follow Yuna as she assisted you and your uncle in closing up the shop. They were like shadows, tailing the idol with every move she made. There was an unmistakable look of irritance on Yuna's face, but she only let it out when her back was turned to the camera. At the end of it all, the female producer made the idol shoot a thumbs up to the camera and exclaim, “Another job well done today!”. Only when they had gotten a perfect take of that did they truly cut the camera and start packing up for the day. 

“Try to be a little more energetic tomorrow,” the producer told Yuna. You were all outside the store by then. The shutter was closed and locked. The final piece of equipment had been loaded into their van.

“Got it!” Yuna beamed. The producer nodded and wordlessly got into the van with the camera man. The van pulled away, leaving the three of you to breathe in its exhaust as it became smaller and smaller.

“This street was never built for cars…” your uncle grumbled. Then he turned to Yuna and told her, “good job today. We’ll see you tomorrow!”

Yuna smiled—this time a little less bright and more weary—and bowed. “Thank you for today! I’ll see you tomorrow!”

The idol turned on her heel and walked off towards the small house that she and her members stayed in for the time being. You couldn’t help but notice the way her shoulders seemed to slump. 

“Are we overworking her?” your uncle asked. He must’ve noticed too.

“I’m not sure,” you answered, “I feel like it’s not the work…”

Your uncle raised an eyebrow. “What else could wear her out today? She’s been cleaning and stacking all day!”

You pursed your lips. Then, you turned to your uncle and said, “go home without me. I need to do something.”

You set off after the idol. She hadn’t walked too far over the course of your conversation with your uncle. You caught up to her in a matter of seconds.

“Yuna!” you called her. She turned.

“Hm?” she hummed. 

You stopped before her. “Could I… Take you somewhere?”

You only realised how weird that sounded after the last syllable left your mouth. Inwardly, you cringed and hoped to god that she didn’t find that creepy. Thankfully, she gave you a smile and said, “sure!”

You took her to the bridge where your uncle had imparted his wisdom upon you. The walk there was filled with awkward silence, only broken erratically by your comments on the different shops. In the chilly Autumn air, you walked side by side with Yuna till you reached your destination.

“Wow…” Yuna muttered as you stopped at the apex of the bridge, “this is…”

“It’s prettier in Spring,” you told her.

“I can imagine that,” she whispered. 

She placed her hands on the railings and leaned her body weight against it. You silently stood next to her, letting her take in the breathtaking scenery without disturbance. You had a hunch—The fact that cameras were always on her had been taking a toll on the idol. You figured she needed some time away from the cameras, a moment where she didn’t have to live with the fact that she was perpetually in the frame of a lens that was recording her every move. 

You didn’t know what to do when the first teardrop came rolling down her face. When her body started to shake, you started to panic internally. That wasn’t part of the agenda. You awkwardly fumbled around, patting your pockets to see if you had any tissue to give her. By the time you had pulled out the small tissue packet from your pocket, the girl was already seated on the bridge, knees tucked in and arms locked around her legs as she bawled and bawled. Awkwardly, you sat down next to her. You maintained a distance from Yuna and silently slid your tissue over to her. The last thing you wanted to do was make her feel uncomfortable in her moment of vulnerability. 

You gave her time. Breakdowns like hers would never be finished in a matter of minutes, you knew from experience. The sheer internal bedlam a human could experience under certain circumstances was no joke.

It took some time, but her shoulders eventually stopped heaving so violently, her breaths becoming more uniformed in nature. 

“I-I’m sorry… I-I just…” she started to apologise. 

“It’s… It’s alright,” you assured her, “it… It must be tough for you.”

You gestured to the packet of tissue next to her. She gratefully accepted it, pulling out a couple of pieces to dry her eyes. There were no more words spoken between the two of you, only an odd, comfortably awkward silence in the air as you both sat with your backs to the railing. Yuna sniffled intermittently, and you could hear her drawing tissues to blow her nose. 

You didn’t say anything to comfort her. But that day, you unwittingly made her start trusting you.

***

Dried apple slices. 

That’s what Yuna had bought to share with you. She’d gotten them from Miss Cho’s, and had asked to eat them with you on the bridge after your shifts had ended.

“These are so good!” she exclaimed.

“Miss Cho’s family spent lifetimes perfecting their formula. It’s gotta be good,” you told her.

Yuna squealed happily as she dug her hand into the container and pulled out yet another slice. You could pinpoint the exact moment where the flavour of Miss Cho’s apple slices burst forth in her mouth. Her wide-eyed silent glee was your indication. On the railing of the bridge you sat, side by side with the idol. There was an unexplained affinity between you two since that day she cried next to you. Your interactions in the bookstore had increased, becoming friendlier in nature. It was like something suddenly clicked between the two of you.

“Man… These things make me want to live here forever!” Yuna laughed, kicking her legs like a child as she dug her hand into the container for yet another slice. You smiled as you watched her. She seemed more carefree that day.

“You’re from the city, right?” she asked you, popping another slice into her mouth.

“Yep… I’m just staying here for a while,” you explained to her. 

“Don’t you have to search for a university?” 

You kicked your legs and sighed. “I do… But that can always wait.”

Your truth—You didn’t want to leave this town. Life was much simpler, slower. You’d originally come here to recover, hatred and bitterness brimming in your heart. Now that it had been purged from your being, you found a connection with this humble, small town. You knew that you’d eventually have to leave, go back into the hustle and bustle of the city when you got back to your life as a city boy. You dreaded the arrival of that day. 

You told this to her. A look of understanding crossed her face.

“How long have you been here?” she asked. 

“Since early Spring so… About a month now?” you replied. 

“Ah… And what’s this bitterness that you had?” she pressed. 

You took a dried apple slice and popped it into your mouth. You munched on it a little before replying, “I had to recover from a breakup.”

Yuna chuckled. “Ah… I suppose this place seems like a nice town to get back on your feet.”

You were glad she understood you. 

“You know… This spot is really something,” she told you, “it’s so beautiful and calming… I really gotta thank you for showing it to me.”

You waved it off. “No problem.”

Yuna folded one leg up. “I came here with the girls once after that evening. It was a good break.”

She sighed heavily. You wiped your hand on your jeans.

“It must be tiring,” you said.

“Hm?”

She turned to look at you intently. You stared at your sneakers. The once snow white shoes had been dirtied by gravel and all sorts of elements, but you didn’t really mind. 

“It must be tough living with no breaks… I imagine it can get pretty overwhelming,” you told her. Yuna stared off into the distance for a moment.

“When they told us that we would be coming here to take a break from our idol activities, I thought that we’d actually be able to rest…” she muttered, “then we saw the cameras and got handed those damn selfie sticks… That’s when I knew that we were just making more content while we’re supposedly ‘resting’.”

You could hear the spite in her voice. Your heart went out to her. 

“I hate this,” she continued, “I just want to have a moment where I’m not dancing, where I’m not singing, where I’m not being recorded by some stupid fucking camera while I keep some pretty smile on my face.”

Her truth—There were times where she wondered whether the idol life was meant for her. While they existed, she couldn’t recall the last moment where she was just Shin Yuna, a regular nineteen year old girl finding her way in life. She liked the bookstore, it made her feel human. While she was going about her tasks, the sheer monotony of it all brought some semblance of regularity into her life. For a rare moment, she wasn’t just some money making machine for a company, she was just a regular human, like you. It gave her an unexplainable joy, a joy that was quickly stripped away when she turned and saw a camera being pointed right at her.

She told you this in hew own words. You bit your bottom lip.

“But of course, I can’t let that show, can I?” she laughed bitterly, “gotta be pretty preppy princess Yuna. Can’t be angry, can’t be annoyed, allowed to cry only in concerts or in interviews… Fuck all this idol shit.”

Her life didn’t sound as great as you’d imagined. You admittedly thought that many idols lived in luxury, showered with love and attention from fans worldwide while earning big bucks doing what they always aspired to. In reality, their lives were the most cruel and unforgiving, an endless cycle of practice, classes and content. They were always being watched and monitored. They maintained a happy, cheerful image for their fans, but deep down they just want to take a break for some time before coming back to this life of theirs. It sucked. It sucked big time, but they all lived with it.

The harm that humans could bring upon each other was frightening, yet the world was as such. 

“I think you’re incredibly strong Yuna,” you voiced your sincere thoughts, “it takes a lot to be you. I don’t think many people can confidently look me in the eye and tell me that they’re fine with being watched twenty-four-seven, let alone pretend like everything is great with their life when it really isn’t.”

There was a moment of silence. 

“Thank you,” she whispered, “I… I think I really needed to hear that. You summed it up really well.”

She shot you a sincere smile. You chuckled softly and scratched the nape of your neck. There was a warm sensation on your face. 

“You’re… Welcome I guess?” you told her. She laughed at that.

“You’re funny,” she remarked, “I like your company.”

The warmth on your face was now more of a burning sensation. You looked down at your sneakers, feeling a grin plastered on your lips. Her smile was as contagious as her joy. 

“How… How long are you guys gonna be here for?” you asked her.

“I forgot... I only know that we’ll go back for Chuseok, then come back here for a few more weeks. We’ll be out of here by the middle of November if I recall correctly, then back to comeback preparation in early Winter,” she replied.

Time was a funny thing. It could go by so fast when you wanted it to be slow, but it could also drag on like a snail when you wanted it to be a rabbit. Time was a wave, almost cruel in its relentlessness.

In your heart, you prayed that Yuna’s time in this town wouldn’t be fleeting. In your heart, you prayed that time could show mercy on this girl.

***

Dried anchovies. 

That’s what your uncle needed from Miss Lee, the general store owner, to cook the stew for that night's dinner.  You shrugged on your jacket that evening and headed down to go buy what was needed. Mrs Lee greeted you with the usual warm smile, though you could tell that the Gopro on the counter was making her ill at ease. 

The ITZY girls were there, talking amongst themselves as a camera man and a different lady producer stood behind them. You did your best to slip by undetected, snagging the bag of dried anchovies and a bottle of water without being spotted. You didn’t know that they’d follow them till this late. 

You paid for the good and exited quietly. On the way back, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You spun around to come face to face with Yuna. 

“Hey,” she beamed. She must’ve seen you. How did she get out?

“Oh. Hey,” you smiled back. 

“Can we meet at the bridge later? I’d like to get some fresh air after my dinner,” she requested.

You smiled and agreed. You set a time, then split off in your own separate ways to go about your evenings. You couldn’t really focus on your uncle’s rambling that night, you mind drifting to Yuna’s smile while your uncle said something about the stock market. 

9pm. That was the time you’d arranged to see her. On the pretext of taking a walk, you slipped out of your uncle's house and journeyed down the street towards the bridge. She was there by the time you’d gotten there, a bright smile that could light up the darkness gracing her features when she caught sight of you. She let you walk over to her before handing you something. It felt like a stick.

“What are these?” you asked. 

“Lanterns,” she answered, turning hers on, “Chuseok is coming up. The Chinese like to carry lanterns and take walks on that day. I thought we should do something while I’m still in this town, make some memories, you know?”

The lanterns she had purchased were from Mrs Lee’s general store. Mrs Lee had always been obsessed with Chinese culture, particularly in terms of decorations and practices. She sold those lanterns all year round, even though no one really bothered to buy them.

You and Yuna walked around the town with your lanterns, talking and laughing, laughing and talking… It was a night to be alive. It was nice to see Yuna in this light. You’d grown out of your 2 dimensional perception of her, discovering the multitudes she possessed. On the surface, she was simply Shin Yuna, ITZY’s maknae and visual. Beneath that, there was Shin Yuna, the nineteen year old girl who could easily make someone smile and blush. Then beneath that was Shin Yuna, a nineteen year old girl who craved regularity, a nineteen year old girl who wanted to be momentarily freed from the glitz and glam. You were happy that she trusted you enough to be comfortable around you, and you were more than happy to have that gut feeling that she was truly being herself with you. 

“This town is amazing…” she remarked as you found yourselves before the bridge once more. You’d walked a full round around the town by then, lost in conversation as you took turns down the roads on a whim. 

“Maybe you should just move here,” you joked. 

“Oh how I wish I could!” she sighed, “everything’s so nice here… I wish I could just stay here forever…”

I wish I could stay here forever. She always had a tendency to say that. While working in the bookstore, she’d let it slip. When you were talking with her on the bridge, she’d say it at least once. She struck you as someone who was vocal with their opinions, someone who would freely speak her mind if she could. You enjoyed listening to her long, rambling talks about her various life stories. Though you could never bear to listen to such rants from your uncle, you found hers enjoyable to listen to. There was a certain way she drew you in with her voice, your attention becoming captive to her tone and intonation while she went on and on… 

When you parted ways with her that night, you found that you wanted her to stay and talk with you a little longer. Of course, you never vocalised this desire. She’d already broken rules to come out and see you that night, the last thing you wanted was to get her in trouble. 

As you walked home with your lantern that night, you wondered what it would be like to date a girl like Yuna.

***

Drier air.

That’s what you felt had changed that late October morning when you stepped out of your uncle’s house. 

“Aish… Winter is coming already,” your uncle grumbled, “time passes so fast these days… I ought to keep a better track of it.”

It was Yuna’s final weekend in the town. She was due to leave by Tuesday next week. As expected, Midzys showed up in front of the door, prompting your uncle and you to wrap around to the back entrance, where Yuna was waiting. The female producer and the cameraman were right there with her, asking the idol some questions in front of the backdoor as you and your uncle approached. Her eyes seemed to light up upon the sight of you, the smile on her face growing wider as she waved to you. 

“Yuna, focus on the interview,” the producer reminded her sternly. She quickly set her gaze back on the camera. Your uncle waited patiently for them to wrap up with their questions before opening the backdoor to the bookshop. As you walked in, Yuna walked up to your right and whispered right into your ear.  “10pm. Bridge. Don’t be late.”

You’d never wanted a shift to end so badly.

That night, you met her at your usual haunt. Her smile—Usually brimming with joy—was noticeably sadder, dimmer under the moon’s beam. It felt hard to accept that her time in this town was running thin. You wished that there was a way to extend your fleeting time with this woman, find a way to make some more memories with her. Alas, time could only move forward at a rate unknown to you. Autumn was slowly becoming Winter, and Yuna would soon be gone from this town. Every moment was now more precious than ever.

The truth you kept to yourself—Though your heart fluttered around her, you knew that you and her could only remain in this stage of friendship. Progressing forward to a new stage of a relationship would be hard. You could only hold on to her as a friend, hoping that she wouldn’t forget you when she returned back to the big city. 

The two of you stayed out late that night, eating dried fruits from Miss Cho’s and drinking some Makgeolli that Yuna had bought and snuck out. 

“My last day as a human,” she told you that night while cracking open the bottle, “then it’s back to being a doll…”

Human… Why could she never seem to prove to everyone else that she was human as well? The fame, the shining lights, the pedestal that she’d been placed on… They all created a false image for her. It brought forth a notion—She was privileged, someone who could receive the attention of fans and brands alike. There was no room for blemishes, her body “perfect” and her personality flawless. She had to accept all that, live with it without a fuss or hassle. 

When she rambled about this, tears flowed freely from her eyes—Years of pent up anger, sentiments of unfairness and many other emotions coming forth in moonlit steaks that ran down her face. You poured her another glass of Makgeolli. She tossed it back to soothe the pain.

“You know… I always feel so comfortable with you,” she whispered, “it’s like I’m talking to an old friend… Someone who actually understands me.”

Under the stars that night, the two of you admittedly got a little tipsy on the bridge. Under the stars that night, Yuna had let slip her true feelings towards you. Under the stars that night, you two shared a kiss, one that would change the complexity of your relationship, spurred by the raw emotions of the night that had manifested through the catalyst that was alcohol. 

As your fingers ran through her hair and her hands held on to your waist, she leaned on your shoulder and whispered some words into your ear. They weren’t words that you wanted to hear, but you knew that you’d just have to accept them.

It pained the both of you to know that you could never truly love each other the way you wanted to. The expectations of her company and of society set a boundary, one that kept you two so far yet so close. While you saw her as a regular human, she still had to abide by the rules and regulations of the company that controlled her. Those rules defined her, the regulations moulding her into something no longer human. It made her life strict and unforgiving. 

She was like an unwilling puppet, trying in vain to resist the commands of those who had power over her. A sisyphean task it proved to be. 

To them, she was an idol. And according to them—Idols and humans were not to love each other.

***

Dried flowers

That was what you held behind your back that morning where you saw the ITZY girls off. You and your uncle waited outside the house they stayed in, dried flowers tucked away behind you. Then they came out. The five of them, rolling out their luggages, dressed warmly to combat the rapidly dropping temperature. She caught sight of you. A sad, warm, gentle smile crossed her face. The bosses of the shops that the girls had worked for respectively had all come to bid farewell to them, giving you some time to talk to her one last time. The goodbyes were tearful, full of hugs and “I’ll miss you”s. Yuna gave your uncle a hug, then she turned to you. Surprisingly, neither of you shed a tear as you stared at each other. 

You produced the dried flowers that you’d gotten from the florist and presented them to her. 

“They’re beautiful,” she whispered as she accepted them. 

“Glad you like them,” you replied, “try and keep them alive okay?”

She stared up at you for a moment. 

When the first teardrop rolled down her face, you didn’t hesitate to pull her into a hug. She cried into your chest, a million and one apologies bursting forth as she held you tight. It was as if it was her fault that the two of you could not start a proper relationship. It was as if you’d disappear if she didn’t hold you as tight as she could. 

When it was time to go, you dried her eyes to the best of your ability. She gripped the dried flowers tight, a grim look on her face as she said, “I’ll take some time to think about us… When we meet again, I’ll tell you what you mean to me. We can go off from there.”

You smiled. “Alright then, I’ll wait.”

She fiddled with the wrapping of the dried flowers.

“Till then,” Yuna requested, “could I be selfish and ask you to hold on to these feelings?”

You smiled and assured her that you’d try to. When we meet again, I’ll let you decide if we should kiss or not, she told you. 

In the cold morning air, you made a then-and-there decision to share one last kiss with her, not caring about the fact that staff and her other members were present at the scene. As the van took her away from the town, your uncle placed a firm hand on your shoulder.

“Are you going to be okay?” he asked you. 

You wiped a tear from your eye and whispered, “I hope those dried flowers won’t die as quickly as they did last time.”

***

The cold snap hit when you came back to the town. A fresh, fluffy and thick sheet of snow covered the streets. Your boots made a satisfying crunch with each step you took, the frigid winter air biting your face as you hurried towards the bookstore. All around you, people walked up and down the street. City people—you recognised their accents. 

You found it hard to adjust back to life in the city. The roar of the traffic was jarring, making you yearn for the quiet of the town streets. The pavements were jam packed with people, making you long to return to the empty streets of your uncle's humble town. The subway was packed like sardines, making you think about the times where you could get to wherever you wanted on foot. It was safe to say that you had some forms of withdrawal symptoms, but you eventually got over it. Then university came. The workload was immense, the readings mountainous. It took you some time to figure out a way to efficiently cover all the content you needed to, but you eventually found your footing. You were in your last year now. Time was truly so fleeting, a wave, almost cruel in its relentlessness.

Now that you were back in this familiar place, a sense of comfort filled your being. Not much had changed over the course of your four year absence. Aside from the fresh coats of paint and increase in tourists, everything was just as they were when you left. 

The bookshop was teeming with life when you entered. You were pleasantly surprised. You remembered your uncle telling you about how good the winter crowds were, but you ever imagined it to be this good. You hurriedly removed your scarf and coat before approaching the counter. There, your uncle was busy packing book after book into paper bags. You hung your coat on the coat rack and grabbed an apron. 

“I’m back,” you said, taking your place next to your relative. Your uncle cast a glance towards you. 

“I’ll greet you later. Busy now,” he mumbled. You chuckled and tied the strings of your apron behind your back. 

It didn’t take long before you settled back into that old rhythm—Open, pack, take the bills. Open, pack, take the bills. It brought an odd sense of joy into your heart. You’d missed the monotony of this life. 

The bookstore closed a little later that day. You waited till the last customer had slipped out into the cold evening air to flip the sign from “open” to “closed”. Then you shut the door behind you.

“I should really employ a part timer,” your uncle mused. He beat his lower back with a clenched fist. “The crowds are only growing these days… I’ll need some help.”

Then he waddled over you. With a warm smile, your uncle pulled you into a warm embrace. 

“Welcome back, nephew. It’s good to see you again.”

You hugged him back. The usual old people's statements ensued—How have you been? You’ve grown taller! Jeez… You’ve gotten a little more plump! Have you been eating well? The same old questions were hurled at you. You were happy to answer them all. 

You helped your uncle close up shop for the day. To celebrate your return, he took you down to Mrs Han’s to have a barbeque. The restaurant owner greeted you with her wrinkly, warm smile and welcomed you back to town. The meat was fresh, well marbled and tender. Freshly imported Mrs Han had told you, they just came in today! You came back at the right time!

It was safe to say that your belly was filled that night. Mrs Han had kindly put the cost of the meal on the house, and your uncle hurried you out of the restaurant when you insisted on paying. 

“It’s rare for her to be this generous. Accept it while you can,” he told you. You rolled your eyes. He was as thrifty as always. 

Your uncle took you to the bridge that night. Proper lighting had been installed on it, small yet powerful lamps illuminating the path as you and your uncle stood side by side on the apex of the bridge. The river was frozen over, the trees around it bald and bare. 

“You should’ve came back in the spring,” he remarked, “there were more flowers this time. It was beautiful.”

“I can imagine that,” you replied. 

Your uncle sighed heavily, a sizable cloud forming before his face. “You know… She came back this spring.”

“Is that so?” you replied alarmingly calmly. Your voice betrayed your emotions. It felt like a small ball was caught in your throat. “How is she?”

“She seems alright, definitely grew a few centimetres,” he told you. 

“Is she healthy?” you pressed. 

“She definitely looked a little more plump in the face. She’s seemed a lot stronger,” your uncle replied.

Silence hung between the two of you. Then your uncle inquired, “You never managed to see her in the city, did you?”

You lowered your gaze to the frozen water. 

“No…” you grimaced, “I… I could never find a way to see her.”

The truth—It felt like fate was against you. You could never secure a ticket to any of her performances, nor could you ever get into any of her fanmeets—Online and physical. You never expected that you’d face such difficulty in trying to see Yuna, but you persevered nonetheless. When the university workload came in however, you found your free time had been stripped from you, tossed out to the wind as assignment after assignment plagued your days. Yuna couldn’t be your top priority no matter how much you wanted her to be. You didn’t know why the idea of getting her phone number never crossed your mind while she was with you. Then again, exchanging phone numbers could have landed her in trouble…

You told this to your uncle. He nodded silently.

“I guess we were never meant to be a thing,” you whispered dejectedly, “I was a fool to hold on to those memories”

Your uncle sighed and patted your shoulder. “Some memories never heal. Rather than fading with the passage of time, those memories become the only things that are left behind when all else is abraded…”

“Han Kang,” you muttered. It was one of the quotes from her book Human Acts. You had a paper on that book coming next term. Your time at the bookstore made you discover your love for books, hence you pursued a degree in Literature in university. 

“You remember,” your uncle chuckled. It was one of the first books that he’d made you read. “Your memory serves you well, nephew.”

The quote he’d recited could be interpreted in many ways. In the context of the book, the protagonist spoke of their memories in the bloody Gwangju massacre in 1981. The sights, sounds and horrors left them scarred for life, so scarred that they’d take them to the grave—hence the usage of heal in memories never heal. Healing meant forgetting.

For you, healing meant forgetting too. The only difference—You didn’t want to heal. You wanted to keep those memories carved into your brain, make them a permanent part of your being. You wanted to ingrain that smile in your vision, keep that voice playing on loop in your ears. You were more than willing to take those memories to your grave. 

“First a breakup, now this,” you muttered, “am I not built for love, uncle?”

“Everyone is built for love,” came his instant reply, “it’s just a matter of finding the right person to receive love from.”

The right person… 

Your parents were meant to follow you on this visit back to the town, but last minute work held them up in the city. They’d found an Airbnb house in the town for the three of you, but now you had it to yourself. As you laid down on the bed, you found that the silence was deafening.

Silently, you wondered what’d be like to date a girl like Yuna. She felt like the right person.

Maybe all of those emotions were just teen hormones. Maybe the feelings were just bright out in the heat of the moment. Maybe you didn’t actually love her, maybe it was more of an infatuation. It all sounded logical and reasonable to you. 

Yet when you saw her again, all of that no longer seemed to make sense. 

There she stood in the cold winter morning, scarf around her neck and a pair of earmuffs atop her head. In her gloved hands, a bright pink tote bag, a bouquet of flowers sticking out from the opening. She stood before the store, staring at the closed shutter, mouth parted ever so slightly. Her hair—Red when you first saw her—Had been returned to its natural colour. She was as beautiful as the day you said goodbye to her. 

You swore that your eyes were deceiving you. When she turned her head, you were convinced that her jaw dropped open as wide as yours when the two of you locked eyes.

Then in the next moment, she was in your arms. She had her ear pressed to the left side of your chest, as if she needed to hear your heartbeat to verify that you were truly there.

“Hey,” was all you could manage.

“Hi,” she whispered back, “it’s been awhile.”

Her eyes gleamed with the same childlike wonder. Her smile was as genuine as you’d remembered. You wanted to kiss her to see if her lips would feel the same, but…

When we meet again, I’ll tell you what you mean to me. We can go off from there…

She did give you the freedom of choice to kiss her when you reunited, but you decided against it.

Catchup was done in the warm respite of the bookstore. With aprons adorning your bodies, you filled each other in on what you’d missed in each other's lives. This was all done to the backdrop of filling in shelves and rearranging stacks of books. Lunch came and your uncle left the two of you on your own. You got some tteokbokki with her from Mrs Han’s—to go of course—and hit your old spot. 

“Even without the leaves, this place is still so stunning,” she mused, staring out at the frozen water.

“I still prefer it in Spring,” you told her, “I like it better when the trees are less… Bald.”

She laughed at that. 

When the sun started to set on the small town, your uncle made the executive decision to close up early. The sun may be gone, but the night is young he told you with a wink. You gave him a grateful smile and took off your apron. He let the two of you go off early that day.

Dinner that night was once again at Mrs Han’s, and she wasn’t so generous that night.  A walk around town was what she asked for afterwards, both of your footsteps seemingly synchronised to produce rhythmic crunches in the snow. At one point, she’d stopped walking to gather up a handful of snow, forming a hefty snowball to chuck at you. You didn’t hesitate to fight back. 

“University sounds tough,” she mused, munching on some grapes from Miss Cho’s.

“I think it’s just my course,” you remarked, “the rest of my batchmates seem to be having a relatively good time.”

“Literature is demanding,” she agreed, “but what do you wanna do with it in the future?”

You sighed and shoved your hands into the pockets of your jacket, “I’m still figuring that out…”

“Maybe you can become a writer,” she suggested, “write some screenplay… Make it different from the usual stuff.”

“I’d probably need to save up some money before I do that,” you chuckled, “I have a degree that guarantees a higher chance of living on the streets than living on someone’s couch.”

She laughed at that too. Then she said, “hey, maybe you should come work for my company when you’re done with university. That way, we can see each other more often too.”

You chuckled. “That’s a possibility… I’ll try and keep that in mind.”

“I’ll make sure to vouch for you,” she declared, “the big boss likes me enough to listen to me…”

You laughed and nodded. Silence hung between you two. 

Then it was time for the hard question. 

“So are you seeing anyone?” you asked her. Yuna licked a grape seed off her lips before answering.

“I’d like to think so…”

Your heart sank, but you still cocked your head in feigned curiosity, “oh? What do you mean?”

Yuna bit down on her lip. “I mean… I like him, but I’m not sure if he still likes me.”

“Ah,” you mused.

“Yea…” Yuna sighed. She looked up at you and asked, “what about you?”

You took a moment to formulate an answer. “I think… I’m just waiting for love as of now.”

“Ah,” Yuna parroted, “well… I wish you the best in that then.”

There was a sudden tension in the air. It was like your respective cryptic messages had conjured a rubber band of the mind, pulling it out to its maximum length as you continued your silent journey down the street.  Perhaps your hopes were set a little too high—You’d expected her to remember the love that existed four years ago, run back into your open arms so that you could shower her with kisses. But you’d forgotten—No… Chose to forget what she’d told you on the bridge that night. 

I love you. I know that it’s too late for this, but I love you. I’m sorry we can’t love in the same way others do, but do know that deep down, I wish to love you in the same manner that you love me. It’s confusing, I know… But my life doesn’t allow us to share the life we want to. I’m sorry.

It was a painful thing to hear, but you still kissed her right afterwards, and you still kissed her the morning after. You now realised that perchance, you’d gambled a little too much, gone all in with the chips of your heart only to lose. You didn’t understand why she couldn’t date freely, be with someone that truly made her happy. She was a human, a human deserved to give love and be loved.

She got a call a few minutes later. It’s my manager. I gotta go now. 

She gave you a small wave, handed you the last few grapes from the container. Then, with a it was nice seeing you again, Yuna turned on her heel and walked off. The grapes felt oddly heavy in your hands. Again, she was to disappear from your life. Like grains of stars in an infinitely expanding galaxy, she spilled through the gaps between your fingers once more. This felt like a scenario you’d read in books a thousand times over, and frankly, it sucked.

But happiness is being able to hope, however faintly, for happiness. So, at least, we must believe if we are to live in the world of today. 

Osamu Dazai had said that. You weren’t sure why you thought of it as you watched her back get smaller and smaller by the second. 

Hoping faintly for happiness? Is that what I’m meant to do? You asked yourself. She was getting further by the second. Hoping faintly for a chance that she’d turn back, you stood there. She never did.

Hoping faintly…

No. You wouldn’t settle for that. 

The grapes fell from your hands as you ran towards the girl that you’d so hoped to see again. Four long years you’d tried and failed. Now, with the opportunity right in your grasp, you were certain that you had to make something out of it. 

In three more bounds, you were right behind her. Yuna you called, grabbing her by the shoulder. You didn’t give her time to say anything before you turned her around and planted your lips on hers. She yelped, her body tensing as you held her cheeks in the cradle of your palms. 

A quiet smack resonated when your lips parted. Yuna trembled in your grasp, teary eyes gazing into yours. 

“I’ve been waiting for your love Yuna,” you admitted to her, “for four years, I tried to see you again but I just never could. We said that we wanted to sort out what we meant to each other when we met again, but we failed to do that today. Tell me Yuna—What am I to you?”

She let out a shuddery breath, the smell of grapes saturating the air. 

“I-I have to go,” she muttered.

You were tired of waiting.

“Yuna please,” you begged.

She looked away, as if contemplating if she should give you her answer.

“You… You are who I want to love,” she whispered, “I-I thought that… Maybe I was too selfish to ask you to keep loving me for all these years. I-I guess I didn’t expect this selfishness to be rewarded.”

“It isn’t selfish,” you corrected her, “it’s… It’s human Yuna. The desire to want someone to keep loving you, that’s human.”

Her lower lip trembled ever so slightly. “Right… I can only feel like a human when I’m with you.”

Suddenly, nothing else in the world seemed to matter. You pulled her in once more, holding her as tight as she did on the day she left your life. You kissed her, tender and passionate as she gripped the fabric of your jacket. Her perfume was sickly sweet, intoxicating and lulling you deeper into her body as she reciprocated the kiss. Her hair, cold and slightly damp from the snowball you threw at her, was silky, smooth to run your fingers through. The repeated dying of it had definitely affected its quality, but only in the slightest.

Her voice was strained when your lips parted, but you could clearly make out what she’d said. 

I don’t want to go back tonight. I want to be here with you. 

When the first teardrop rolled down her cheek, you didn’t hesitate to wipe it away. 

“You’d be breaking some rules won’t you?” you questioned.

“I’ve broken them before. I can always break them again,” she replied, “humans were made to break some rules after all…”

With a smile, you let your hand slip into hers. It was warm, just like any other human. In her eyes, there was a gleam that every other human could possess. In her smile, there was a sincerity and joy that any other human could show. Sure, the Dispatch article that posted the photo of you kissing Yuna did call it the unexpected relationship between a top idol and a civilian. 

But in your eyes, Yuna was as human as anyone could ever be.

Dried things and humanity—An unlikely combination for a love story, but it was certainly fit to start the first chapter of your story with Yuna.

_______________________

Hello! A rare, smutless Yuna fic has mad its way onto my blog. I know it'll disappoint a lot of you guys, but this is what I wanted to write, so here we are. Hope you guys enjoy this one. Take a break from the horny and have some simple love <;3.

~Lots of love, Nichuuu

[ctimenefic]

Became obsessed by the idea of Alex getting his grubby mitts on George's nudes, had a breakdown, bon appetit.

positive negatives Rated Explicit Fandom F1 RPF Pairing Alexander Albon/George Russell 4,963 words

Summary: George doesn’t regret that shoot, exactly.

He had for a long time. After the first high of seeing the rushes wore off; after overhearing a murmured warning in general casting, days too late; after he woke up at three am to reread the release he’d blithely signed without thinking, and spent the next four hours staring at the ceiling hoping to wake up. He’d regretted it then.

For years after, the memory of it could hit like an ice cube sliding down his spine. Always, of course, at the most inconvenient moments. When he was working, or networking, when he needed his wits about him, couldn’t afford to stutter over his words. They’d put him in white silk, or offer him wine, or he’d walk into a room with slow, warm jazz playing, and the whole excruciating mess of it all would come back. He’d learnt how to smile through it, then how not to blink at all. (rest of the first chunk below the cut)

And when the pictures had finally leaked – first onto some old-school subscription gay porn site, then everywhere else a day later – he’d put his lessons to work. Keep smiling. Don’t blink.

It had been a surprise to look back, a month later, when the worst was over and his clients and his billboards and his agent were all still there, with an extra 400,000 followers on Instagram to boot, and think Was that it? 

When he looks at the photographs now, it’s like that first time again, young and bloody-minded and startled to see he had a flesh-and-bone body under all those choking layers of denial. He looks good. He looks good at looking good, at ease with himself in a way that George-at-twenty-five knows he took years to relearn. And maybe the desire of the camera reads as lecherous now he can see the places where his youth shaved the fat from his hips, but George still remembers being that boy. He deserved, he thinks, to be wanted. 

Still, he doesn’t mean to tell Alex about them. Alex doesn’t really get modelling, or the difference between George’s shoot for Calvin Klein, plastered up and down the Tube, and the accidental softcore porn he shot at 19. It’s been a long time since their karting days, and George’s career has taken quite a while to bring him back into the orbit of rich men driving even more expensive cars for a living.

Also Alex is his boss, technically. Or his client. Alex is going to put him in some very stupid clothes with far too many pandas and cats and horses on them, and George is going to sell the fuck out of them. (It won’t be a set to add to his portfolio, but it’s the least he can do for an old friend whose smile is just as bright and broad as it was ten years ago.) George doesn’t have a normal job, but he knows it’s probably a tad unprofessional to bring up why “...gay” “...2018 shoot” and “...dick” never leave the top ten Google autocompletes for his name. 

But then he gets to the private members’ club in London where Alex is going to show him the final designs (and George is going to nod and smile like he’s never worn Versace) and Alex, already there waiting for him, looks tired. Worse than that – haggard.

“We can’t all be fucking supermodels, Georgie,” Alex retorts. It’s mild enough that George files away deliberately mixing up super-licence points and the other, better kind for a different, pettier occasion. Still, he slides his (prescriptionless, fashionable) glasses down his nose for a brief disappointed look. 

George still follows F1 – he has the app, keeps Alex in his fantasy team but puts the double boost on Verstappen every race with just a twinge of guilt – so he knows the run to summer break hasn’t been kind. No position higher than 15th. No points. 

He’s not seen Alex actually down about it before. He’s certainly never heard Alex talk about Red Bull, and the fiasco that happened there long before George met Lewis Hamilton at LFW and found himself waltzing back into a racing paddock. It presses at something tender in the depths of him, behind layers of poise and millimetre-perfect physical control. 

The iPad propped against the bar has gone dark, fashion long forgotten. George would sit through a hundred abominable fish-print shirts if Alex would laugh again. 

“Sometimes I feel like I fucked it right at the start, you know, and I’ll never get past it,” Alex tells his pint glass. He’d told George he was only allowed one, then looked pissed off and affectionate when George had held him to it. Like George didn’t understand a strict diet. “Do you ever- Nah. Course not.” 

He can’t stand that, the way Alex’s eyes glide up and down him, a smooth surface. And that tender part wants to crack him open from the inside, press itself against Alex’s bruised under-eyes. 

So George tells him about the shoot. The stifling heat of the studio. How the sheets had stiff spots that snagged against the hairs on his arms, and he hadn’t realised until later how they’d got that way. He’d been so thirsty, and so trusting that the water was shut off. The wine had been cheap and nasty and he’d not had the experience to know the difference.  

He hadn’t known he’d made a mistake until the photographer had messaged days later, said he wanted a follow up of George freshly fucked out and offered to do the honours. 

He tells it like it’s funny. It helps, he’s found, if he can make the jokes first. Alex laughs in the right places but nervously, like he’s not sure it’s allowed. 

“-So, yeah, I understand, a bit. In the end it’s probably got me more jobs than it’s lost me, but if you want a bright side, no one’s put your Red Bull season on a porn site. Well, none of the mainstream ones at least.”

“I try not to think about what the admins won’t tell me,” Alex responds darkly, but his eyes cut back to George’s face with a hint of guilt behind them. “Jesus, Georgie. I didn’t know it was like that.” He hesitates. “Should I stop making the jokes about your shirts falling off?”

George laughs properly at that, loud enough people at the nearby tables turn their heads. He feels their glances lingering. It’s a sixth sense by now. “Nah, it’s become a crucial part of the brand. But show me the horse one again?” 

This time, Alex smiles as he explains exactly why the ‘Horsey’ line is actually covered in cats. 

The collection is fundamentally ugly. There’s no getting round that. But at the shoot itself, the snapper Alex has hired, a teasing chap with an accent that meanders between Dundee and Penzance, doesn’t mind when George pulls faces at each change. The clothes feel good at least – well-constructed, made by a women’s collective in Thailand that George’s agent had checked aligned with his ethics clause. 

Alex isn’t there, off at a training camp. It doesn’t affect how George does his job – he’s a consummate professional – but, well. He’d been prepared to show off a little. He could’ve got away with fewer crunches that morning. 

Still, he persuades the photographer to take at least one shot for each shirt with a very technical definition of ‘wearing.’ Inside joke, he promises. 

It’s about a week later when he gets the email from Alex. Subject line: AA23 Pet Collection Edit. No body text. Attachment: GR_Photos.zip.

When he opens it up, he doesn’t blink. Just smiles. 

Read the rest on AO3 or, like, bully me to post it here.

[schemmentis]

Somethin' Stupid - Pt. 3

Part 1 / Part 2

Summary: The end of senior year, graduation, and the beginning of your last summer before college.

WC: 3.9k

Italian-American Translations: Basta - Enough, Madonn' - My god, boombotz - idiots

“I think I’m gonna break up with Joey.” You look up from your notebook where you’ve been writing your valedictorian speech. Melissa had been right; you’d secured that spot in your class. You take a moment to gaze at your best friend sitting across from you at your kitchen table. 

It’s a Friday evening, with only a week of your senior year left. Graduation less than two weeks away. You stare at Melissa, trying to figure out where this is coming from. She hasn’t looked you in the eye since you’ve looked up. She’s biting her lower lip and looking for all the world like she’s looking at one of the last pieces of homework you’ll have to do. At least for high school.

You think maybe it’s nerves. Mel certainly looks nervous. Maybe with college coming up she isn’t sure she and Joey will make it through the life changes of it. Except you know how she feels about Joey. She gets annoyed with him and loves to act like an over exasperated partner that’s been married to him for years. You know she almost never is though, not really. When she is, she tells you. This is the first time she’s mentioned anything about breaking up with him.

“Why?” You finally ask, keeping your eyes on your redhead as she finally meets your eye.

She shrugs, leaning against the table. “He’s still hanging out with Mikey and everything… I don’t think it’s right.”

You sigh, setting down your pen. “Mel,” You start as you reach across the table to grip her hands. “Do you love Joey?”

“Yeah but if he’s going to keep hangin’ out with that asshole—”

You squeeze her hands to get her to stop. “Look at me.” You say softly as she had looked away as she started on the tangent you interrupted. You wait until her green eyes are looking at you once more. “Forget all the shit with Mikey.” You say. “I’m not askin’ about that. I’m askin’ how you feel about Joey. You love him, right?”

“Right.” Melissa answers after a moment keeping herself from going on the tangent again at your request. You know she does. You’ve seen it go from her crush on him early junior year to actual affection once they started dating. To now, it's obvious to anyone with eyes around them how much Mel loves him. She’s sarcastic and pretends to be annoyed but she can’t hide the way she looks at him or doesn’t hesitate to do anything he needs. 

“And you wanna be with him? Probably marry him, whenever he gets the nerve to propose, right?” You ask, despite a small ache in your ribs. You blame it on leaning over the table and the wood pressing into them. It isn’t a secret. It hasn’t been since Melissa and Joey’s relationship got serious after they’d been together a year. You imagine it won’t be right away that Joey will propose. Maybe a couple years into college but you know it’s coming. Just like you know Mel’s answer. 

Another long drawn out moment before Mel is nodding across from you. “Yeah. I do.”

“Then you don’t wanna break up with him and you’re just gonna make yourself miserable.” You say, squeezing her hands one more time before you draw them away with a shrug. “The Mikey stuff?” You sigh as you reclaim your pen. “It sucks, yeah. But whatever. Joey was never really my friend, y’know? We got to know each other because you spend time with both of us. It’s not worth breaking up with Joey over the fact that he still wants to hang out with Mikey.”

You both have plans for the next few years. You’ve talked about them plenty in the build up to this year, senior year, and over the course of it. You know Mel is going to go into education, being a teacher is what she’s wanted to do since eighth grade. It hasn’t changed since. She’s planning on her own house in Philly as soon as she can. She’s told you about the little garden she can’t wait to have out back. Fresh produce grown right in her backyard. She’s planning on marrying Joey. She hasn’t said anything about kids but that wouldn’t surprise you. Her family is traditionally big and you know as much as Mel complains about them; they’re the most important to her.

That’s Melissa’s five year plan. College to get her teaching degree, teacher’s assistant until she can get her own position. Save for the house and the garden. Marry Joey. Start their life together, whatever it looks like. You know she doesn’t really care if Joey wants kids or doesn’t. What’s important to her is life with Joey. 

Your five year plan? You don’t have one past your career in social work. That much of a plan has always been more than enough for you. College for your bachelor’s. Start working at the entry level for experience while you go for your master’s. You still haven’t decided if afterwards you’ll go for your doctorate or a phd since they do have different applications for them and the jobs available. You figure though that part of it can wait until you get there. 

The relationship part of it? Well, you’ve just never worried about it too much. You always figured it would find you when it was meant to. If it was meant to. And if it didn’t? Well, you kind of figured you’d be alright either way.

“Maybe you’re right.” Melissa says with a huff across from you. The usual sound that accompanies her admitting she isn’t right. “Maybe I don’t wanna break up with Joey but I’m pissed he’s still hanging around with Mikey after what happened.”

You shrug, glancing back up to her. “Like I said, Mel, it’s okay. Joey and I weren’t really friends anyhow.”

“Maybe not but you’re my best friend and his best friend hurt you. If he cares so much about me shouldn’t that extend to you? Hell, even forget all that, it's just basic human decency!”

“Don’t get me wrong, I agree. You know I do, Mel. But…it doesn’t change how you feel about him and you can’t make Joey do somethin’ he doesn’t wanna do. It isn’t…it’s not worth ending everything with him over when you still care about him so much. It ain’t worth making yourself miserable over.”

Suddenly Melissa is out of her chair and rounding the table. Before you can even ask she’s throwing herself into your space with enough force it jostles you as her arms wrap around you tightly. “Just know that nobody messes with my girl and gets away with it. Nobody. I won’t let nobody get away with hurtin’ ya, not while I’m breathin’, kid.”

You blink the tears away from your eyes that are welling. You and Melissa haven’t really talked about what happened since prom. You don’t really want to. It happened and you want to move on from it. With her arms gripping you tightly and her words though, you can’t help the swelling of emotions for your best friend. You shift to wrap your arms around her to match her embrace. “Thank you,” is all you can manage to breathe out.

Melissa doesn’t drop her grip around you for a long, drawn out moment. Her arms squeeze around you to reaffirm her presence. It’s only when she hears the front door open and Kristen Marie’s loud entrance that she slowly pulls away. She kisses the top of your head, a hand squeezing your shoulder before she retreats to the other side of the table.

“‘Sup losers.” Kristen Marie says as she strides into the kitchen just as Melissa sits back down. “Mel, where’s Ma?”

“Do I look like I know?” Melissa says, shooting a glare to her sister. 

“Geez, I was just askin’.” Kristen Marie mutters. She glances at you, smiling. “Hey, Y/N, congrats on being valedictorian.”

Melissa’s glare at her sister only hardens at her brightening once she notices you. This is how it’s played out with the Schemmenti sisters since second grade. They gripe at each other and annoy each other. Kristen Marie purposefully cheery at you whenever she sees you strictly because it gets her sister to glare at her like she currently is.

“Thanks.” You answer with a small shake of your head at the Schemmenti Staredown happening across from you. 

“Okay,” Melissa says a little loudly. “You can go now, Kristen Marie.”

“Hello? I’m having a conversation with Y/N, not you, Melissa Ann. Please have some manners. Ma taught us better, you know.” 

“Oh my god,” Melissa grumbles, getting up again to start shoving her sister out of the kitchen. “Go away, we’re busy. No time for conversations with little sisters, get out.”

In the usual perfect timing of any Schemmenti, their mother arrives just then. Stepping through the side door of the house into the kitchen. She raises an eyebrow, seeing her two daughters that are now in the doorway between kitchen and living room. By now, they’ve slipped into their usual insult trading tirade. It’s rapid fire and littered with Italian you only know from practically living in this house as your second home.

“Hey! Basta, you two!” Somehow, Mrs. Schemmenti manages to be louder than her two daughters. As soon as her voice is filling the kitchen, the two sisters freeze entirely. "Madonn’ you’d think I was raising boombotz ‘round here.”

You amusedly watch the two sisters pull away from each other. Each murmuring something along the lines of ‘sorry, Ma.’ Melissa drops back into her seat across from you as Kristen Marie makes for the stairs to retreat to her room. When she looks at you, she frowns. She glances to ensure her mother won’t see before flipping you off in return for you clearly being amused at her getting in trouble. It only makes you laugh, and for as much as Melissa tries to hold her glare at you; she starts smiling.

The next time you see Melissa is at school, with Joey. They have their arms linked as they pass you at your locker between periods. She yanks on his arm to get him to stop so you can talk about the new underclassmen gossip she’s heard. She makes you promise to sit with them at lunch. You do. Joey doesn’t seem uncomfortable but he does seem…awkward. You pay him little mind, focused instead on enjoying a meal with your best friend between classes. Before Joey leaves for his next period Melissa grasps his wrist, firmly reminding him that it’ll be three of you ditching your last day next week and for your senior week trip after graduation. 

“You don’t need to do that.” You say once you look away from the back of Joey’s football jersey as he leaves the cafeteria.

“Yes, I do.”

You sigh. At least Melissa isn’t playing the game of pretending not to know what you’re talking about. “I told you, it’s okay if you just wanna go with Joey for ditch day and senior week. It’s practically spring break with way more freedom; it’s fine, Mel.”

“I don’t want to go just me and Joey for senior week.” She says with a glare. Her tone has you sitting up a bit more, blinking at the redhead sitting across the table from you.

“He wants it to be just the two of us.” Melissa continues after a moment, her fingers picking at what’s left of her sandwich. Unusual enough that she wouldn’t finish lunch it’s more unusual for her to be nervously picking at the remnants. After a moment her green eyes glance back up at you. Melissa clears her throat, shifting in her seat. “He wants to have our first time at the hotel in Myrtle Beach.”

You blink again, doing your best to fight the rising heat you feel in your cheeks. You can’t tell if it’s embarrassment at the topic or the awkwardness. Or the way Melissa’s clear feeling of discomfort reminds you of Mikey and prom. “You don’t want to.” You practically whisper. It isn’t a question. You can tell.

Melissa nods. “I mean, eventually, of course I do. I just…” She sighs, suddenly seeming frustrated with herself as she brushes her hair away from her face. “I just don’t think I’m ready for that yet.” She finally admits quietly, looking back down at the food she’s picking at. “I mean, imagine if my Ma found out I slept with Joey outta wedlock? She’d have a heart-attack and then if I got pregnant… I love him, Y/N, I do, and I want to be with him like that I just…it doesn’t feel right.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t feel comfortable with, Mel. That you don’t feel right with.”

“If you don’t come with us to South Carolina, I will.” She answers.

You bristle. You reach across the table and grip Melissa’s hands firmly between your own. You meet her gaze with your own readily when she looks back up. “If Joey ever, ever, puts his hands on you when you tell him you don’t want him to; you call me.” You say with every ounce of sincerity.

Melissa blinks at you, her eyes wide in surprise that you would imply defending her. Despite her doing exactly the same with Mikey at prom. “He wouldn’t.” She finally manages to say.

You agree, but you also see the tinge of fear in your best friend's expression. She trusts Joey, but there’s always that little bit of doubt. You both trusted Mikey too. Maybe not as much as Joey but still. You had. Yet he took advantage anyway. “If he ever does, Melissa. You call me.” You repeat as you squeeze her hands lightly.

She nods. “You know you’d be the first one to know.” She finally agrees.

“I’ll come with you on the trip if you would really feel more comfortable.” You say as you finally release her hands.

“You will? Even if Joey will be a little snot about it?”

You scoff. “I can handle Joey being an asshole.” You assure swiftly. “If you want me there, I’m there. Joey will deal with it.”

Melissa smiles, launching into filling you in on all the itinerary she’s been planning out for the trip. By the time you’re both leaving the cafeteria you’re reluctantly agreeing to her plans to take surfing lessons that Joey had vetoed before. 

Before Myrtle Beach and the senior week trip; you have to get through graduation. Which for the most part is easy. The last week of school doesn’t present anything really challenging wise from your classes. Your teachers know there’s little point in testing or quizzing your senior class by now. Though some do still attempt to get you to learn at least slightly in your last week. Others are perfectly content to wheel the television cart into the classroom and put a VHS on for your class to talk over. 

When the actual ceremony comes; you’re more nervous. You have both your mother and Melissa check your stole over your graduation gown as well as the fit of your cap multiple times. As if it wasn’t a process to ensure the correct sizes weeks ago anyhow. Still, you’ll be standing in front of your whole school for your valedictorian speech. Popularity and looks may not have been something you were ever particularly concerned with through the last four years but you’d like to avoid looking like an idiot on that scale still.

When it comes time for your speech; you feel the nerves fall away and settle into your ability to focus on what you feel is important to say. You’d worked hard on your speech; your last farewell to both your school and classmates. It also serves to say the same on behalf of your graduating class. You wanted it to resonate. Falling comfortably into the words you’d written; you aren’t certain if it does or not. You feel like you blink and you’re at the end of the speech.

Once you finish, Melissa is the only one of your graduating class that doesn’t toss her cap in the air. She’s too busy cupping her hands around her mouth and shouting her support for you. She’s still wearing the cap a few minutes later when she all but barrels into you to hug you tight. You return her grip, your smile hurting your face when she tells you how wonderful you’d done up there.

Instead of staying out like plenty of your other new graduate friends do; you go out to dinner with Melissa, both your families, and Joey, too. You stay the night at Melissa’s like a thousand other nights before, your packed suitcase repacked by the redhead who had said no to about half of what you packed. You at least convinced her to leave the sunscreen in your suitcase before the two of you went to bed.

The next morning, you’re throwing both yours and Melissa’s bags in the back of Joey’s truck where his own are already at. You hug Melissa’s mom, telling her to pass half of it along to your own and remind her you’re only gone for a week. She hugs you back just as tightly and whispers a thank you for taking care of Mel. You don’t answer the sentiment other than a small nod. A silent ‘of course, why wouldn’t I?’

You’re hardly surprised halfway through the near nine hour drive that Mel is asleep, leaning against you from her spot in the middle of the cab of the truck. You’d told her it would happen when she was nudging you awake in the middle of the night because she was too excited about getting to the beach and having a week of no responsibilities with the newfound, if temporary, freedom of graduation.

What you’re slightly surprised by is Joey, suddenly piping up from his spot in the driver’s seat. He had been content to worry about driving while you and Melissa controlled the radio, singing along a bit obnoxiously to the songs you really liked and talking over the ones that weren’t favorites. Now that Melissa is asleep, his voice fills the cab. Not loud, or trying to wake up his girlfriend but loud enough to get your attention.

“You didn’t have nothin’ better to do for senior week?”

Joey doesn’t ask it meanly, or snidely. He sounds as casual as if he was asking if you heard what the weather will be in Myrtle Beach while you’re there. Except you know his meaning. You know it’s his way of saying you should have stayed home, or that he would have preferred you had.

“Mel practically insisted I come.” You answer in a matching tone. You don’t say it any differently than if you were saying it was supposed to be sunny nearly every day you were there, and not too hot. You hope he catches the meaning you hide beneath the casual tone. 

“She can handle being said no to, y’know.” Joey answers.

“Can you?” You throw out, looking over a head of red hair to glare at Joey.

He glances away from the highway to look at you for a brief moment before he turns back to watching where he’s driving. “I’m not an asshole.” He finally answers.

You don’t answer, though you drop your glare from the side of his head. Focusing instead on the view from your passenger window.

“I love her, Y/N.” Joey says after a long bout of silence filling the truck cab.

You bite your tongue, sensing he has more he feels he needs to say.

“I know I ain’t as smart as you.” Joey continues after a moment, as you thought he might. “I didn’t get straight A’s, hell, I graduated by the skin of my teeth and we both know I cheated on a test or midterm or finals more than once.” He admits.

“What’s your point, Joey?” You sigh, looking back to him.

“I see how you look at her, y’know?”

Your brow furrows. You had thought he was trying to plead his case about not taking advantage of Melissa. “What are you talkin’ about?”

“I ain’t a genius, but I ain’t stupid, Y/N.” He answers, glancing back to you for a few seconds again. “I wouldn’t do anythin’ Mel didn’t wanna do. Even if I’m…ready for more in our relationship. I love her. I don’t wanna mess nothin’ up.”

“Okay…?” You drag out, more confused the more Joey talks.

He meets your eyes briefly before he looks back to the road again. “I won’t give you a chance.” He finally says. Not in a mean way but just…factual. “I won’t mess up what me and Mel got. Even if it ain’t like what you have with her. It’s good, really good, and I love her.”

You sober, the furrow of your brow eases as you lean back in your seat. You suddenly understand. Joey knows what you realized at prom. Maybe he knew it before you realized it yourself. Your love for Melissa is more than friends, and maybe has always been. You sigh.

“Joey.” You start. “I’m not your competition.” You shrug. “I’m not sabotaging your relationship with Mel by being here. I’ve never tried to, and I won’t now. As long as you keep her happy, and take care of her? I’m not your competition. All I want is for Melissa to be happy and treated right. And she is. You think I don’t get my ear talked off about you all the time?”

Joey laughs. “You think she don’t do the same to me ‘bout you? Christ, I think I knew your valedictorian speech myself before you even gave it.”

In spite of yourself, you smile. Sure, there’s the smallest of stabs in your heart if you think about it for too long. What you feel and what it means. What you really want, what you’re missing out on. Except, the larger part of you feels warm. Warm with Melissa leaning against your shoulder sleeping soundly. Warm with the knowledge that even if it isn’t in the same way she does care about you deeply. Warm with the knowledge that you and Joey are just two people that love the same person. How upset can you really be when he wants exactly what you want for Melissa? Whatever she wants and needs to be happy. You can’t blame Joey for being protective of his relationship with her. You would be too if you were him. You are in your way about your friendship with her.

“You should talk to her about it yourself,” You say after a moment, “but she told me she isn’t ready for what you were wanting this trip to be.”

Joey is quiet for a long time before he nods. “Yeah. I kinda figured that one out.” He shrugs. “Just wish she woulda said that. ‘Stead of beating around the bush about it all, y’know?”

“Like I said…you should talk to Mel about it yourself. I’ll get lost on the beach for a while if you need me to.” You offer.

Joey grins and shakes his head. “Nah. Let’s just have a good week, huh? When we get back we’re gonna have to worry about being adults and all that other shit.”

“One last stupid teenage hurrah, huh?”

“Damn right.”

[nkirukaj]

The Radio Demon & the Billboard Doe

Hey y'all! I love writing fics and I love making OCs! So, please enjoy this Hazbin Hotel fanfiction as well!

Pairing: Alastor x Fem! OC

Warnings: Swearing and depictions of violence?

Genre: Angst?

Word Count: 2.1K

1. Welcome to Hell

She had never fallen for anything as hard as she fell into Hell. Free falling however many feet only to face plant into a concrete barren street is not how she imagined her day starting. Was this the start of her day? What had she been doing before this? Certainly not jumping off a building or out of a plane. She stood slowly, many loud sounds abound while she reached for her now shattered glasses, before realizing that without them, her vision was perfect. 

“What the fuck?” She blinked once, then twice, then 15 more times before she concluded that her vision was finally 20/20. Clear enough to see the crimson sky above her, all the buildings around the same shade of red. Some roads cracked and broken even more than a neglected Brooklyn neighborhood. Suddenly, the sound of an approaching car broke her out of her trance, and she jumped out of the way, barely avoiding getting hit. 

“Get the fuck outta the road ya stupid bitch!!”

Instantly her middle finger was up and she was shouting right back “Fuck you, ya decrepit piece of shit! I do what I fucking want!!!” Well, she didn’t want to be standing here in the middle of an unfamiliar street, but nobody told her what to do. She could’ve left her frames in the middle of the street where they’d landed, but without thinking she placed them in her pocket. She wasn’t going to get any answers just standing in this one spot, so she started walking. The red in the air had to be due to terrible air quality, but she could breathe just fine. 

It was a very strange adjustment, being able to see clearly without her glasses, she kept reaching to push them up on her nose, only to realize every time that they weren’t there. She didn’t know how long she’d been walking, but the sounds of a city were growing louder as she kept on in this direction. City sounds she knew well from living in the Big Apple. 

There were many others scattered around, none of them looking quite human. Some had human-looking bodies with inhuman additives and some were just straight-up nonhuman, be they animals or monsters for lack of a better term. The buildings were bright and the people were loud, adding to the TVs in windows and the cars, trucks, and buses all running concurrently. Denizens fighting and screaming, tearing up roads and buildings as she walked aimlessly in the same direction. The building lights grew brighter as the noise levels built up. Everything was so much louder than usual, she had become accustomed to complex noise, but these made their way through her ears, down her spine, and into her stomach. She didn’t have her headphones, she’d left them at home. 

She bent over and closed her eyes, trying to steady herself enough to keep walking, at least enough to get away from this noise, but she was caught in the middle of it. The last building she saw was a large tower with glass windows all around it, and the tall letters “vVv” plastered on it for all to see, before she crouched down, feeling physically sick from the commotion. 

That is until she felt arms dragging her up. Her eyes shot open, to see some beings that looked a lot like sentient hyenas dragging her away from the busy streets. Their touch was wildly uncomfortable, not only because they were strangers, but because their appendages were digging into her skin quite painfully. She tried to stand and hold her weight, but the way she was building held did not allow it. She began squirming to get loose, the restriction of her body movement and the vast amount of sound combined to make a very unpleasant experience in her body. 

“Stop squirming, you’re making this harder than it needs to be.”

She started kicking and squirming even harder, as though she was trying to escape her own body. 

“Hey! Stop moving!” Yelled another directly into her ear “Grab her legs” he spoke to another. When they went to grab her, she let out an inhuman screech, startling her would-be attackers into letting her arms go. When they attempt to recapture her, she lets out all the pressure built up in her chest, screaming at the top of her lungs. Out of her mouth came blazing flames hitting the faces of her would-be captors, screaming until she couldn’t scream anymore.

When she finally opened her eyes, the entire area was now engulfed in flames. It didn’t seem too out of place with the rest of the streets. The charred corpses of the hyenas were all around her on the ground, still flaming. She stood there and caught her breath. Once she was able to breathe steadily, she finally looked up at the sky. Standing in full sight of anyone who happened to look up, was a casino-like sign, reading “Welcome to Hell”.

______________________________________________________________

Hell? Like the place, Christians are always screaming about? This is what they were all afraid of? It looked like an ungoverned city. Broken windows, trash on fire, broken-up roads, dead bodies strewn all over the place. Falling lampposts, guts all about the streets. People killing each other all over, while she just walked right on by. There were many large buildings like skyscrapers clearly in view as if the wealthy were flaunting over the regulars. The majority of the light in the city came from these towers and buildings. Their area was cleaner and sleeker, more modern.  The class distinction was obvious. Like it wanted to be near them, but not part of them.

So if she was in Hell, were these demons? Was she a demon? Why was she in Hell? She couldn’t think of anything she had done in life that would get her sent down here. Was this even real? She knew when she was dreaming, and this felt like real life. She was still a bit in shock about the fire that came out of her mouth, but at this point, she was running on adrenaline, her legs carrying her somewhere, anywhere that wasn’t here. She starts playing with her fingers and staring at all the lights. The brightest lights surrounded a large billboard reading, “You Are Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel” with directions listed at the bottom. The words were next to a picture of what she guessed was a demon girl, with a white face, red circles on her cheek, and a long ponytail that went down her back. She cocked her head at the sight, the demoness’s face was quite striking and burned itself into her memory. 

The building was in the middle of nowhere. She had to take about 10 breaks just to get there. In front of the building was a large pentagram and the hotel itself was propped up on a hill. After 4 more breaks just to climb the hill, she reached the door. She wondered why the hotel had a marquee. She knocked once quietly, then thought for a moment and knocked again, louder. The demoness that was on the billboard was the one that opened the door.

“Awww you are so cute.” The blonde demon cooed over her appearance 

“I know right?” She brightened up at the compliment

“Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!”

“And who are you?”

“I’m Charlie! And this is my girlfriend Vaggie!” She gestures to another woman who walks up to the door with grayish-purple skin, long hair, a bow, a large spear, and an eyepatch over her left eye. 

“Okay, so I have a question,”

“Yes?” Charlie bats her large eyes

“This is Hell? Like, I am in Hell? Like the place Bible thumpers are always telling everyone else that they’re going? Like, fire and brimstone, eternal punishment for sinners? That Hell?”

“Yes.” Charlie’s smile doesn’t falter, she looks quite pleased 

“And I am here because…?”

“Well…chances are that you’re here because you’re a sinner. Meaning you did something wrong in your life. Unless you’re a fallen angel, but I think you would know if you were.”

“Is it possible that there was some sort of mistake? Because I was awesome.” 

Charlie and Vaggie look at each other, unsure of how to answer the question. “Um I don’t think there’s ever been a mistake,” Charlie responds, unsure. She looks off to think about it.

“First things first,” Vaggie spoke sternly “Our mission is very important to us, so do you plan on staying here or not? If you are, that means that you are agreeing to do your best to be redeemed. Which includes daily lesson plans, trust exercises, interacting with other guests and staff as well as doing your part around here. Do you accept?”

She squints in confusion “Why is all that necessary?”

“Because!” Charlie piped up, back from her existential thoughts “We believe that it’s easier to make strides towards redemption when you feel like part of a community! Usually, we suggest that each new guest finds another guest that they’re similar to. Although that may be difficult for you.” She strokes her chin “I don’t think we have any other guests that are deer.”

“Wait what?” She breaks up Charlie’s thoughts “What do you mean?”

“Well, when building a community, it’s easier to start small-“

“No! I mean like…other deer? What do you mean by other deer? Who’s a deer?”

Charlie glances at her girlfriend to make sure she’s seeing the same thing as her. “Um..you are,” Vaggie informs her

She tilted her head to the side in confusion. Charlie and Vaggie looked at each other before parting to let her in the hotel. There’s a large mirror in the common room wall, she approaches and looks in it; unable to comprehend what she sees. The first thing she noticed was that her dark locks were now fiery red curls. Her nose was black and the holes were larger, her lips were two different colors; the top one black and the bottom one pink. Her face was slightly more angular, with white spots all over, and two big brown deer ears sat atop her cranium. And her irises were now a deep blood red. 

She stared at her reflection, with no sound or movement. Other guests were passing by as if she was strange. Charlie stood behind her, she could tell she was getting worried, stepping out to approach the doe, but Vaggie put an arm out to stop her. She slowly reaches up to touch her face, to make sure that what she was seeing was real. She opened her mouth to speak, seeing four fangs, two on each of the sides of her mouth. She picked at them for about 5 minutes straight. They were real too. This was all real. She was a deer, specifically, a doe. 

Vaggie cleared her throat, “Don’t forget um…on the back.”

She turned her head to see what she was referring to and shot Vaggie a confused stare. Vaggie took her by the shoulders, causing her to flinch. Vaggie retreated a bit before slowly replacing her hands on the doe’s shoulders, turning her backside towards the mirror, bringing to her attention, a tail. Brown on top, white on the bottom. She looked back towards the girlfriends. 

“It can be a big shock,” Charlie looked apologetic “but at least you’re adorable!”

She turns back to the mirror, looking at herself once more, then turning back to them. 

“Yeah, I guess I am cute.” She states bluntly

She backed herself up, hitting something hard and solid. She finds herself frozen for a moment before feeling a slight weight on either side of her. Long, slender, and sharp red fingers covered her shoulders, holding her up from falling backward. She steps forward and turns to see who they belong to. She was greeted by the sight of an extremely tall demon, with a fancy red coat, a cane with a microphone on it, and red hair with black tips, that gathered on top of his head in a similar shape as the ears she had on her head. A large grin took up the majority of his face and his bright red eyes were quite a sight to behold. She stared, unable to form words at the moment, and his grin got even wider before he spoke. 

“Alastor. Pleasure to be meeting you, sweetheart.“ he takes her in, noticing her form, ears, and face. He hadn’t seen another deer down here before. Quite interesting to say the least. He brings an arm from behind his back, takes her hand, and pulls it up to his lips, placing a kiss on the back of it. “Quite…a pleasure.”

Chapter 2>

[everythingacotarbxm1012]

Do That Again

Summary - You meet a certain fellow after your roommate starts dating some guy.

Content Warnings - Language, heavy drinking, characters getting drunk, underaged drinking (please tell me if I missed anything)

A/N - I wrote this mostly because there are definitely a lack of Cassian x Reader fics out there and as much as I love Cass and Nesta, this felt necessary. *Do not repost my work without my express permission.* *Do not copy my work.*

1k words

✨ 💫

You and Cassian. Cassian and you. Attached at the hip in every sense of the phrase. If someone was looking for one of you, they’d find the other. The only time you weren’t together is if you didn’t have a class together or if one of you was going to the bathroom and even then if one of you was drunk enough… you might be in a close proximity.

You met Cassian through your friend and roommate, Feyre. Feyre, after a shitty high school boyfriend, met Rhysand at a party. Rhys was… well he was something. It was one of those situations where someone falls first and the other falls harder. Feyre fell hard. Like inches of cement hard. You’d be grinning with smug intent while Feyre’s face was absolutely red after getting back from an evening out with Rhys. Somewhere in the madness of first year the two crazy kids finally were official. You ensured you would meet him before summer break. You did. 

As Feyre’s friend, and body-guard , you were of course critical of the man. He certainly had an ego. But below it all he felt right for your friend. He treated her like an individual, a partner—not a possession. The same night you met Cassian at a party. Admittedly you were a little drunk. Okay, you were more than a little drunk. Okay, fine! You were very drunk. Like hookup-with-your-friend drunk. Thankfully he was drunk too, less drunk, but still drunk. Somewhere between the drinks, bad music, and watching Feyre and Rhys be sickeningly smitten with each other you and Cassian found a connection. It was like in kindergarten when your eyes land on any random person in the room and think, you’re cool and we’re friends now. 

You woke up the following morning with a hang-over on a couch to Feyre and Rhys stifling laughter. Your friend informed you it was the suite Rhysand and his friends shared on campus. How a group of first-years got that was beyond you, but you didn’t complain. You were still wearing your clothes and thanked the heavens you saw no vomit either. You managed yourself awake to see Cassian sprawled on the floor. You met Azriel that morning. 

“For the headache,” he said, as he offered you a glass of water and Aspirin. 

The three of you suffered while Feyre and Rhys remained wrapped up in each other all morning. 

The connection with Cassian only grew faster. You kept in contact over the summer, both constantly joking about the disgust you felt for the budding relationship between your friends. In truth you both were happy for Rhys and Feyre. Upon your return for your Sophomore year of university, the friendship solidified itself. You were constantly together. Staying up late to get work done, eating, studying, getting stupid drunk at parties. Despite the humor and jokes, you also found a deep comfort from each other. 

Cassian adored physical contact, which was perfect because you did too. Something you discovered when you woke up on the couch in the suite to your dear friend have a nightmare. 

“Just a nightmare, Cass. Just a nightmare,” you reassured him. He had clung to you, falling back asleep soon after. 

By the end of Sophomore year, you were literally inseparable, constantly draping over the other whenever you hung out as a group. A group you drunkenly named, Rhysand’s IC , because he was constantly parenting the rest of you alongside Feyre. IC standing for Idiot Children . 

One particularly very early morning, around 1am, you and Cass were draped over each other on the couch in the suite. The conversation topic was stupid things you did as children, and Cassian was letting out a particularly loud laugh when a cold-faced looking Az stepped out of his room, asking you to “pipe down”. 

Your junior year, Cassian managed a suite that could fit you and Feyre and you all lived together. Often times the night would end with Feyre and Rhys finding themselves together with you and Cassian sitting together having a drink while you braided Cass’s shoulder-length hair, talking about trivial matters. 

Your final year, Feyre and Rhys chose to live off campus because they wanted a place to themselves leaving you, Cass, and Az to fend for yourselves. Az wound up with a single while you and Cassian chose to share a room to be closer to the center of campus. Azriel was a floor above you. You spent night after together, sitting in the corner of your room, watching a movie together, or talking, or sitting in silence enjoying the other’s company. In hindsight it was crazy how quickly college had gone by. 

Cassian had become your dearest friend through it all. His humor you adored, but it was his caring and passionate nature which had you feeling more deeply for him. And suddenly you were stumbling back from an We’re Almost Graduated party Rhys and Feyre hosted.

✨💫

“There’s a spider on your shoulder!!” You shout as you stumble into your dorm room with Cass. You cackle as Cass squeals, squeezing his eyes shut. 

You step forward to flick the spider off his shoulder and he screams making you laugh and nearly keel over. He catches you before you do, a hand landing on your hip. An electric buzz bolts through you. For all the times you’d been in contact this felt different. Maybe it’s the alcohol, the fact that his hand has never been on your hip before, or the the excitement of graduation. 

“Cass?” You ask him, his hand still resting against your hip. Your breath hitches in your throat.

“Y/N?” His question is met with a moment of silence. And then suddenly Cassian’s hands are cupping your cheeks and he’s kissing you. 

Your eyes flutter shut before he’s pulling away. The kiss somehow intoxicating and sobering. There’s a stupid grin on your best friends face. “You know how long I’ve wanted to do that?”

He’s met with silence for a while. You are unable to move. Finally you manage words. “Do that again.”

There is a mild question in his eyes. 

“Do that again,” you repeat. 

Cassian doesn’t need to be told a third time.