#even now. i should be elated. i can cook. i can do the dishes. sit all day!

[natandacat]

I dont even want to mark the anniversary but im already feeling so much dread and this is adding to it. The first year was the worst for sure, but year 3 rolling around is just. 3 years. 3 years. And it keeps getting worse. I never could have predicted the past 6 months even at my more pessimistic. I don't know how to get out of what happened. I can't go back. Mostly because it can happen again. It may get even worse. There's no safety. Even more so because there's no acknowledgement of what happened. Adapted transport won't even agree not to send buses anymore. Doesn't matter they left me unresponsive on the fucking street last time. The hospital never took accountability for what they did to me. Nothing. I have this impulse to shake everyone I see and scream "do you know what happening to me". This pandemic is fucked up. I wanna survive it. I don't wanna be a fucking number. I'm not even gonna be counted as a fucking number because now that covid crippled me, it can kill me without raising anyone's eyebrow. How convenient. I'm just gonna be another cripple that proves to abled people that they're safe from covid. Doesn't matter that I was abled 3 years ago.

[nolita-fairytale]

still into you | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader | chapter one: thursday

summary: you, syd, marcus, and carmy return to where it all began: new york city, prompting you and carmy to think a lot about your past... and your future together. (four part series | follow-up to 'make my heart surrender)

warnings: lots of swearing, tooth-rotting fluff, use of she/her pronouns, the lightest of smut, no use of y/n, second person pov

word count: 5k

listen to: 91 - bleachers | now i'm in it - haim | bewitched, bothered, and bewildered - ella fitzgerald (playlist here)

a/n: re: the poll -- yall really said 'let this man be happy please!' and i love that for us. if you voted for the other fic, i want to reassure you that i will be writing that one right after this! please enjoy all of the fluff and joy of this four chapter fic. i also feel like i potentially robbed us of a smut scene so... anyone interested in a bonus smut scene as a companion to this chapter?

Thursday 

“Alright, guys. We only have a few hours to get our day one prep done. I’ve outlined a schedule for today so that we’re as efficient as possible. Tomorrow’s gotta go smooth, alright?” Carmy instructs, laying out the day. 

You listen intently, marveling at your boyfriend in-action. He’s so fearless when he’s in his element, and being back in New York just seems to bring back all the memories of how you met. It’s like you’re twenty seven again, huddling up for a pre-shift meeting, led by recently-promoted wunderkind CDC, Carmen Berzatto. 

Only, you’re not twenty seven anymore and Carmy is the love of your life. 

“I’m gonna start with the mise for our beef dish, so Syd, can you get working on our signature veal stock? I think we should work with one in the pressure cooker just in case we get short on time and have a back up,” Carmy directs, an intense determination filling his eyes. 

He looks from Sydney to Marcus, before continuing his orders. 

“Marcus, I need you to start on the ice cream today, chef. I ordered us some liquid nitrogen if we need to make more on the fly, but I’d really prefer not to.”

And then it’s your turn, and boy, do you love to watch him work. You have to fight the corners of your lips from curling into a broad grin because you know now is not the time. 

“And lastly, I’m gonna have you work on the pasta. My goal is for us to get all of the agnolotti assembled today, so I’ll jump in when I wrap up with my mise to help you with that, yeah?”

“Heard,” the three of you answer in unison. 

Everyone’s got their game faces on because this is a big deal. 

The biggest, actually. 

Representing The Bear at the James Beard House is more than a big deal – it’s an honor. Only a handful of chefs get invited to cook here per year, and after a little fancy footwork in terms of scheduling, the four of you were finally able to agree on a date with the famous organization. You’re more than elated to be a part of the team, even if you aren’t working at The Bear anymore. 

The four of you quickly busy yourselves with setting up your stations. You only have a few hours to accomplish a whole lot of prep, and the pressure sits heavily on each of your shoulders. Tickets to the dinner had sold out within the first hour, which, after all the press, accolades, and media attention the restaurant had earned over the last few years, hadn’t been a huge surprise.

“Think you can keep up, chef? Don’t tell me you’re gettin’ rusty on me,” Marcus quips, already starting the playful trash talking early.

You let out a laugh, before challenging him in jest.

“Damn, Marcus. Hasn’t been that long. Bet I can still kick your ass on a ‘beat the clock’ mise, chef.”

“Oooooh. Shots fired,” Sydney calls out, joining in on your friendly banter.

“Challenge accepted,” Marcus shoots back, almost instantly. 

And then you’re scrambling to get as many prep containers and a kitchen scale, as you race your friend and mentee, all in good fun. 

You’ve missed this. 

It’s only been a few months since you started your new job – a culinary education director at a startup intent on building more sustainable food systems. While your heart would always be at the restaurant, you’d been ready to take on new challenges. The salary pay and benefits didn’t hurt either. You were happy taking a grown-up job, craving a little more stability and normalcy – and so that you and Carmy could stop paying out the ass for health insurance. Besides, you were still working with food. It just looked… well, a lotta different these days. 

You’ve missed the fast pace of the kitchen, your people, and Carmy’s desire for excellence, but it’s not like those things have left your life either. You still have them. 

After you’d left the restaurant, Marcus had taken over as the head pastry chef. In the last few months, you’ve watched him mentor and inspire a new group of wide-eyed, green, chefs-in-the-making, which had made you prouder than you’d ever have the words for. 

You can smell the sharp-allium scent of onions, as Syd quarters them for her stock, and while you have several cartons of eggs and 00 flour, Marcus has gathered all the milk that you’d just purchased for today’s prep.

“Behind,” Carmy says. He passes you by with a few 5 qt storage containers stacked, as he hugs them to his body with one arm. 

You feel his other hand place the gentlest touch on the small of your back as he leans in and whispers in your ear, “It’s good to have you back, chef.” 

You smile, turning your head just enough to lean back to look at him. 

“It’s good to be back, chef.” 

He presses the gentlest, slow kiss to your lips, and it feels like time stops for a moment. As he pulls away from you, there’s a small smirk on his face as Sydney shouts, “Oh get a room, you two!” 

“If we had the time…” he murmurs quietly, planting one more soft peck onto your lips. His face is still only inches away from yours. You giggle in response, the tender moment filling your heart with warmth. 

“Speaking of time… I just bought Marcus a head start,” Carmy teases, your jaw dropping as soon as you realize what he’s doing. 

You pull away from him, your head snapping towards Marcus’ direction to see that he’s already filled a 5 qt container to its capacity with one portion of the milk. 

“Seriously? Damn it, Carmy!” you cry out, shaking your head. “This is sabotage!”

You hear Marcus laugh in the background and as Carmy walks away with a cheeky feeling of accomplishment. You shake your head in disbelief. 

“Sorry, babe. You can deal with a little hazing, yeah? Since you’ve been gone for so long. Gotta give my guy a head start. ‘S only fair.” 

“You’re such a dick,” you scowl, scrambling to catch up. 

Oh it is so on. 

*

By the time you’re done with your day one prep, the four of you head to the hotel. Luckily, it’s only a five minute walk away, and you’re grateful that the James Beard Foundation chose to partner with one so close. The four of you pull your suitcases down the streets of Greenwich Village, before arriving at the luxurious, vintage-inspired hotel. 

You’re eager to get up to your room, as you haven’t had a shower, nor a time to take a break since you all arrived. 

“Woah…” Carmy says, his brilliant blue eyes scanning the high end hotel room. “You sure we can afford this?” 

You chuckle, “I think uh… they have a partnership with the James Beard Foundation, which is the only way I can answer your question with a ‘yes’ without having to tell you that we have to sell an arm, a leg, and our first born.” 

He shoots a half smile in your direction before letting out a whistle as he looks around. The floor to ceiling windows feel way outside of anything you could afford, as Carmy spots the French doors that lead right out onto a terrace. As you continue to explore the rest of the room, you spot a huge tub in the bathroom – something you’re very eager to take advantage of. 

“Power nap?” you ask Carmy, setting down your suitcase in the middle of the room. 

You’ll put your things away later.

“Fuck yeah,” he agrees eagerly.

You’ve barely put your book bag down before you’re both stripping off your jeans and climbing into the perfectly made hotel bed. After spending the morning traveling, you, Sydney, Marcus, and Carmy had gotten off the plane at JFK and gone straight to the James Beard House in Greenwich. Not only had Carmy been antsy to see the kitchen and get a head start on prep, you hadn’t been able to check into your hotel till this afternoon. You’re both spent, and you know that Carmy’s been running himself ragged preparing for this once in a lifetime opportunity. He hasn’t been sleeping all that well either– his thoughts consumed with nailing down the perfect menu, while paralyzed with indecision.

His quest for perfection had made him irritable over the last few days. You could see that the pressure was getting to him. His appetite was down, he was picking fights with you about small, unnecessary things at home, and pushing Sydney (sometimes a little too hard) at the restaurant. 

But today, he seems a little more in control of his feelings, and it puts him a little more at ease now that you’re finally in New York. He knows he’s been driving you crazy all week, and now that you’re all here, he’s hoping he can relax a little. 

Now that you’re here, in the city. 

Now that the dinner is only a day and a half away. 

You’re hoping he’ll slow down at some point too – give himself a little time to enjoy how big of an accomplishment this is. At least by the end of the weekend. Frankly, you’re glad you’ll have Saturday to enjoy the city without any pressure. 

For all of your sakes. 

You’re surprised that Carmy falls asleep with you during your late afternoon nap. He’s been so wired, so high strung lately, but you’ve just been waiting for him to come back down. Now that it seems like he is, there’s no way in hell you’re going to wake him up. You’re curled up together when you wake, your back pressed against his chest, his arms enveloping you. It feels almost impossible to pry yourself out of his arms without waking him up, but his deep slumber confirms your suspicions and you’re more than willing to let him continue sleeping. It takes a few tries to slip out of his embrace, but you do, and it’s off to the bathroom to get ready for dinner.

You try to make as little noise as possible, but by the time you're out of the shower, and your hair has been blown dry, Carmy’s up. You can hear the hotel TV on as you exit the bathroom and see he’s put his jeans back on. He’s perched on the edge of the bed, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. You notice that the dark circles under his eyes that have accumulated over the years seem to sit heavier this week, as his eyes flicker over towards you.

“Damn, my girl’s got style,” he compliments, checking out your all black-ensemble. “We really are back in New York, huh?”

You nod, grinning at his sweet compliment, as you sit down to slip your white sneakers on. 

“You meetin’ up with Liz and Maya tonight?” he asks you. 

“Yeah. Syd’s gonna join for a bit before her thing. She should uh… be here any minute, actually.” You begin tying up the shoelaces of one of your shoes, before slipping the other one on. 

“You sure you don’t want to come?”

“Nah I-, I'll see ‘em tomorrow right? But tell ‘em I say ‘hello’.”

“Of course. I think they’re both really looking forward to seeing you.”

You check the time on your phone making sure you have enough time, before you make your way to where Carmy sits on the edge of the bed. 

“What’re you going to do tonight?” you ask, curiously, stopping so that your body is right in front of his. 

“Well Marcus is staging at per se so… I’ll probably just hang out. Order room service or pick up a sandwich across the street. I wanna run through all this shit so tomorrow goes as well as it can,” Carmy answers, waving his notebook at you. 

He’s like a man possessed, but it’s one of the many reasons you love him. You pull the notebook out of his hands tossing it somewhere on the bed behind you. You place your knees on each side of his hips, before settling down on top of him. 

“Think you can relax a little tonight?”

He pulls you in, his arms moving over your hips. Carmy leans in, placing a small kiss against your glossy lips. 

“Think you can help me with that?”

You giggle in response, twisting your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck.

“I think… that could be arranged.”

Before anything too spicy can happen, there’s a knock at the door and you know it’s Syd. Carmy groans as you pull away, falling back onto the bed with a sigh of defeat. You climb off of him, heading to answer the door. 

“Hey, you ready?” Sydney asks, as you greet her. 

“Yeah, let me just grab my phone,” you reply, stepping aside to let her in. 

As she enters the hotel room, Carmy’s sitting up. With his feet planted firmly on the ground, he leans over, resting his forearms on his legs as he runs a hand through his messy curls. 

Sydney looks from you to a somewhat pouty Carmy, as if she knows she interrupted something. 

“Staying in tonight, Carm?” she asks him, as you gather your things. 

“Yeah,” he grumbles, and you can’t help but notice how tired he looks. 

Sydney rolls her eyes in response, “Don’t worry. I’ll have her back by nine.”

“Alright, I’m ready,” you say with a smile as you address Sydney. 

“You guys have fun,” Carmy nods, with a half assed wave.

“Don’t work too hard, boss,” Sydney adds, as the two of you turn to leave. “Oh and Carmy. You’ve got a little…” She gestures towards the lipstick you’ve left on his face. 

You laugh in response, and as you close the door, Carmy can hear Sydney’s ‘oh my god, you two are like rabbits’ comment in the distance. 

Carmy allows himself to fall back on the bed, reaching above his head to grab his notebook again. He’s honestly grateful to have a night to himself. He’s never been much for going out, or big social events, so having a night in feels like a good kind of calm before the storm – especially because the next few days will be full of social interactions. He’d always found New York City a little overstimulating. 

Between the dinner and the reception on Saturday, Carmy felt like he was collapsing under the enormous pressure – his only out being excellence. It’s not just the fact that being invited to cook at the James Beard house was a once in a lifetime opportunity, but there’s important business to announce here too. And then there’s the social aspect of it all, and he can’t help but feel like there are high expectations: from the food world, his reputation, your old friends from New York. And he wants to make everyone happy – he wants to impress them all. 

Something about being back here, and being back here with you, has him caught up in his head about it all. This is where you’d met. It’s also where he’d been at his lowest – right before Mikey died. So much has changed, and Carmy feels too large for his old battlefield.

Because that’s what it had been for him: a battlefield. 

A battle for his mental health, to rise to the top of the New York City fine dining scene, fighting with his feelings for you. 

Over the last two years, he had learned that he didn’t have to fight every single damn day. Some days he could just… be – be himself, whatever the fuck that meant, be a friend, and be with you. It felt strange – familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. Being back here makes him somehow feel like the total loser he was six years ago when he first arrived in NYC… and a completely different person at the same time. 

While he was over the moon when he got the call from the James Beard Foundation, he also couldn’t fight this uncomfortable feeling that’s been sitting in his stomach all week long. Carmy had never quite been able to come to terms with the whole ‘celebrity’ aspect of the food world. He knew what he could do in the kitchen. That was unquestionable. But the rest of it – the networking, the celebrity chef circles – was the part he felt most unsure about.

Ever since Sydney’s Rising Star win, he’d let her take center stage with her rising visibility in the culinary world. Actually, he’d been grateful that she was so good at it – that it seemed like she enjoyed the part of the job he hated. There was someone to take the pressure off of him – someone who thrived in front of the camera so that he didn’t have to. But he knows at some point this weekend, he’ll have to face the music. 

There were big changes coming to The Bear. 

*

It didn’t take long after the initial introductions for your friends to fawn over Sydney. They were more than happy to meet your friend they’d heard all about, and the incredible chef who was shaking up the Chicago food scene. 

“Well I’m glad to hear that some things have changed and that working with Carmy’s not a total nightmare any longer-?” Liz concludes your conversation about the restaurant, earning an eye roll from Maya and a laugh from both you and Sydney.

“Oh no it’s still tough sometimes,” Sydney says back. “He has his days. We all do.”

“Liz!” you protest, in regards to the Carmy-bashing.

“What?! You didn’t have to work directly under him back then!” she defends herself, before clarifying with Sydney. “And in his defense, Sydney, it was really our exec chef who was the real nightmare.”

“Oh she works directly under him, alright,” Maya jokes, raising an eyebrow at you. 

“And sometimes on top of him, and also-,” you quip back, ready to play along.

“Oh my god, you’re out of control and I am sick of you!” Sydney exclaims with a laugh in reference to your crass comment.

“So tell us more about the new restaurant,” Maya prompts, refocusing the conversation back to Sydney’s previous reveal.

Sydney tells your friends about The Bear’s plans to expand, and shares ideas she has that even you haven’t heard from Carmy yet. As she wraps up her story, she realizes what time it is, meaning that she’s gotta head uptown soon. She really only was supposed to stay for a glass of wine, but meeting your friends has been so fun that she’s lost track of time. 

“Shit. I have to head out,” she says. “But I’ve really loved meeting you guys. You’re coming to the dinner tomorrow night, right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Absolutely.”

“And the reception!” you add gleefully, so glad you get to see your best friends three days in a row. 

“It’s been really great meeting you, Sydney,” Liz says, shooting you a look of approval. She squeezes your hand under the table momentarily, before saying, “Thanks for taking care of our girl. She speaks so highly of you.”

“Where are you off to next?” Maya asks, excitedly. 

“Syd’s got dinner plans,” you answer, waiting for Sydney to provide more detail.

“Yeah, I uh-, I got invited to one of the To Be Hosted events and it just worked out that we’d be in town for this the same weekend,” Sydney replies, a glimmer of excitement flashing through her eyes as she shares.

“Damn, you got invited to a supper club?” Liz marvels. “Okay!”

“Yeah because she’s a rockstar,” you cheer your friend on, saying it so matter of factly that even a stranger would believe you. 

You all say your goodbyes to Sydney before ordering food. It feels so good to be back in the city, back here with some of your best friends. Maya and Liz had been the friends that held you up, and you them, when you lived here. While you had met Liz at your last job, a sous chef under Carmy’s leadership, Maya worked in fashion and the two of you had become fast friends after meeting through an ex-boyfriend. Once you introduced the two of them to each other, the three of you had been inseparable ever since. 

They had always been your biggest cheerleaders – especially when it came to you and Carmy.

“She’s great,” Maya says, in reference to Sydney. 

“Right? I’m so excited for her. This is a huge deal: create her own menu, a chance to run kitchen without Carmy…” you agree, feeling deep satisfaction over the amazing people you have in your life. “We’re announcing the big news at the dinner tomorrow.”

“Speaking of, how is our favorite guy? What’s he up to tonight?” Maya asks, guiding the conversation back to Carmy. 

“I told him he could come but I think he wanted to stay in tonight. I think he needs some time to decompress. He’s been pretty high strung all week,” you answer. 

“Carmy? High strung?” Liz asks back sarcastically, earning a laugh from you.  “I’m kidding! I really am looking forward to seeing him tomorrow. 

Maya shakes her head, before taking a sip of her glass of wine. She’s always adored Carmy, but knows that Liz has a different relationship with him, having worked as a line cook. 

“You guys are… getting serious, huh?” Liz asks, glancing over at you. 

“Um.. I think those two were married after their first coffee date,” Maya adds. 

“It was not a date!” you insist, shooting her a look. 

Liz lets out an unconvinced laugh, and you accept defeat because you know they’ve always been right about you and Carmy. 

“Maya, don’t forget. Our girl is and has always been the Queen of Denial,” Liz adds, winking in your direction. 

“Oh ha-ha. You guys are so funny,” you reply dryly. You nod, thinking about you and Carmy’s relationship over the last few years. “Yeah uh… it’ll be three years in the Fall so… you could say it’s getting pretty serious.”

Your friends are beaming back at you in response to your admission, and while you’d love to spend all night talking about how head over heels you are for Carmy, you’re also kind of ready to shift the attention off of you and your relationship. 

“Enough about me. What’s going on with you guys?” you change the subject. 

It feels so good to catch up with your girl friends. You all agree to make it an early night. While Maya’s husband had agreed to put their kid to bed, she wants to make it home in time anyways. Liz has a date later, and before you know it, you’ve wrapped up dinner and are walking back to your hotel. You send Carmy a quick text, because you’re only a few blocks away. 

You: On the way back. 

New York City has always been so inspiring to you. The city itself feels alive – like there’s an electric undercurrent that always makes you feel so full. There’s never a dull moment, and it feels as if the potential for a wild adventure is always around the corner. It’s also the place that you and Carmy met, all those years ago. It’s funny. The version of you that met him six years ago never could’ve predicted this: that you’d actually get to be here together, after almost three years of loving each other fiercely. 

Your friends were and always have been right about you. 

Back then, you were Queen of Denial and even then, Carmy had been your king. 

But you’re here now: in the city you met in, stupidly in love with the man you’d met six years ago who had seemed terrified to merely have a conversation with you. 

Your phone buzzes in your hand, interrupting your trip down memory lane, as you peek at the text you just received. 

Carmy: Went out for a walk and a smoke. 

You type back a quick, yet short reply. 

You: Love you. 

When you return to the hotel room, you enjoy the quiet of the evening. It still feels like spring in NYC, so you open a window because it just feels too damn good outside. No wonder he’d gone for a walk. You kick your shoes off, placing them gently by the door, before stripping off your jacket and heading into the bathroom. 

As you pull your hair up and out of your face, piling it into one conglomerate on top of your head, you eye the large bathtub you’d admired earlier.  Not only are you in need of a relaxing soak, but you’re hoping you can persuade Carmy to join you – maybe even help him destress a little. You don’t think twice about it, as you strip off all of your clothes, sliding on one of the fluffy robes that the hotel has provided. You flip on the hot water, the sound of rumbling water against tile hitting your ears.

There’s a bath soak in a glass jar that you find on the bathroom counter, before adding it to the increasingly hot water. While it looks like a mixture of some kind of soak and epsom salt, large bubbles begin to form underneath the rapid stream of the faucet, and you inhale deeply. 

Lavender. Vanilla. Chamomile, maybe?

The smell puts you at ease and you can feel your shoulders melting away from your ears. 

It’s not long before Carmy returns, the bathtub is almost at its capacity and the bath soak that you put in the hot water has bubbled up and blossomed into large, sudsy configurations. You’ve put on a jazz playlist, the sounds of Ella Fitzgerald filling the small space as you hum along. 

“Babe?” Carmy calls out to you, as you hear the front door close behind him. 

“I’m in here,” you call to him, turning the volume of your phone down a few levels. . 

You hear a shuffle of shoes, before he’s peeking around the door frame, his eyes lighting up as soon as he sees you. He knows it’s silly. It’s not like he’s been able to be very present over the last week, and it begins to dawn on him that he’s missed you.

“How was your walk?” you ask softly. 

“Good.”

He looks around the bathroom, the air thick with humidity from the hot water. You turn the faucet off, as you’ve now filled the tub to its capacity.

“You look comfy.”

“I am. It’s a very comfy robe.”

You wait a beat before preparing your ask.

“Big tub,” you entice him, gesturing towards the bubble bath that awaits you. 

“Yeah?” he asks, a half smile on the edges of his lips as he takes a step towards you. 

“Big enough for two,” you nod, making your case. 

It’s all the convincing he needs. You’re removing your robe, leaving your bare body on display for him to see, and soon enough, he’s stripping down and climbing into the bathtub with you. You share an awkward laugh as the two of you clumsily figure out how to position yourselves for optimal comfort. Your back is pressed against his chest, and you’re truly in awe of the large bathtub that somehow holds the both of you.

It becomes progressively easier for Carmy to relax. Between the hot water, and your naked body pressed against his, thoughts and worries about tomorrow begin to slip away. The two of you enjoy the quiet intimacy between you, the soft sounds of your favorite jazz standards, and Carmy’s lazily dragging his fingertips across any bit of exposed skin that he can.

You lean your head back against his shoulder, and Carmy buries his face in the crevice where your neck and shoulders meet. 

“Why don’t we do this more often?” he asks, in between leaving a few slow-paced, soft kisses across your shoulders. 

“Hm?” you hum in response. From the way his mouth and hands move across your body, and the silky feeling of the hot water, you barely have a thought left in your head.

“This whole… bath thing,” he clarifies, exhaling a deep sigh. 

This may be the most relaxed he’s felt all week and he likes that you seem to be enjoying this too.  

“Probably because we have a tub that I can only assume was built for a small show dog,” you joke. 

He laughs dryly. 

“Fair enough.”

Carmy waits a beat before speaking again, enjoying how his mind has quieted for the first time in days.

“Let’s put it on the list… for when we’re ready to move to a new place,” he suggests, quietly. 

“Somewhere with a big tub?” you ask, only sort of surprised by his request. 

“Yeah.”

You turn your head to look at him, as Carmy presses a searing kiss to your lips. You feel his hand snake between your legs and you begin to understand exactly why he’s enjoying this whole bath thing. 

“As much as I’m enjoying this…” he whispers against your lips. “Think you maybe want to get out of this tub…”

Another kiss.

“… dry off…”

You slide your tongue against his as his fingertips move higher up your inner thigh, earning a hiss of pleasure from you. 

“…not put our clothes back on?”

And then he’s swallowing your moans in his mouth, as he continues his exploration. Your head is spinning, and it’s not just the hot water that makes you feel as if your soul was set aflame.

“Yes.”

*

The next morning, you wake up alone. On the bedside table there’s a note in Carmy’s scratchy handwriting that reads:

Couldn’t sleep. Went to Chelsea Market. Love you.

You let out a frustrated sigh. Last night had been incredible but you also knew it’d be back to the grind today. While you’re excited for him – and for tonight – you’re also kind of ready for this to be over. You’re ready to have your boyfriend back.

read: bonus smut scene | chapter two

taglist: @allthefandomstogether @gaysludge @sobshoney @harrysmatcha @starbritestarlite @tpwkkmila

[justalittletomato]

Of Fat Pots and Home

The tomato babies have grown up and are leaving home....not al crosses to adulthood are joyful or what we imagined.

@storm89 @patchiefrog @pixiestookourstardust @eyecandyeoz @by-the-primes @stardustbee @apocalypticwafflekitten @gran-maul-seizure

It is traditional among the Dathomiri to have fat pots, the remnants from cookery scooped up into a vessel to aid in the betterment of the meal. For the carnivorous species it is a mainstay in the kitchens, even the shared ones where large roasts took place. When a Dathomiran took their own residence it was also custom for the family to provide a starter for the fat pot from their store, a small bit of home to take with them as they started on their own. 

This would continue to be the case even with the Oppress clan, the plain pot sitting atop the counter brought forward next to a bright red counterpart. It has been a small joke, that Cress’s fat pot should resemble the namesake of the red Zabraks, a tomato. A tearful Cress accepted the gesture with a smile and a promise the first meal would be made using a bit of home. 

Aster’s parting gift was in a decorative pot, resembling a scaled fish that made her laugh and then cry realizing that she was leaving home truly this time. Her first meal on Lothal is heartily cooked with home and a few more tears for salt. 

Lastly there was Danica, the pot rounder than the others, pitted slightly to resemble an orange heavy in hand. Coruscant was a long ways off so extra was provided. Danica gave a tearful smile and held onto the pot with care. A bit of home. 

Maybe some bantha stew, maybe some nydak steaks, something bittersweet but wonderful to open up her new home with. 

“You aren't going to really use that are you?” her husband peered over her shoulder. Danica blinked in confusion, “ My Buir and Father always give one as a parting gift its tradition” 

“It's archaic, come on Dani this is the city, civilization and I doubt any fat pots are used in any modern home. Come on, we will go out for our first night.” He closes up the fat pot. Danica opens her mouth to protest but finds her fight done. 

“ You can use it another day, but for right now put it away” 

The fat pot is placed in the cupboard behind the mugs and left. 

----

Another day does not come and Danica is kindly reminded that the fat pot should be left alone. A gnawing feeling in her belly each time. 

She wanted a bit of home. 

---

That man had long left her behind, Danica had lost track of the weeks turned months. She was not his ideal no matter all his efforts and so he left. Danica huddled into herself and wanted to go home. 

She smiled at the holovid at her buir and Father, and waved off another visit. She was too busy! It was not a good time, maybe the next time? 

How was her studies? 

A smile, at the top of her class of course…

A sour taste of the lie on her tongue. 

----

Seilos reached into the cabinet for a set of mugs. Confused by the surface of one, he pulled out an orange pot.  “Danica is this tea?” 

The Zabrak rushed over to her lover’s side. A wave of joy overtaken by worry, “It’s nothing, just something my family gave me. A fat pot” 

Seilos nodded, “ Oh I read up on those, since Zabraks are carnivorous the fat from cooking is used to help the dishes, makes them a real treat.” 

Danica smiled at that, “ They do,  you should taste how wonderful it is to add some to nydak.” Hope, small but shining bloomed, “ I can make us some so you can truly have some Dathormian cooking” 

Her dear Seilos smiles, “I would love that.” 

In her elation and joy the reality did not settle as she opened the jar. 

A sourness in the air and both wrinkling their noses. 

‘Another day’ had long passed due.  The fat soured from disuse and with it the taste of home. 

“Oh that’s unfortunate, I am sure we can…” it was all Seilos was able to express before Danica broke into sobs. 

Home. She just wanted to taste a bit of home! 

“It’s ruined! It’s all ruined!” she sobbed. She wanted to hurl the pot to the ground. Her parting gift into her new life that had brought her misery and aches to her hearts. 

---

She settled down some time after, hiccuping in Seilos’s arms as he held her. 

“I miss my buir, I miss my dad…I miss…”

She bit her tongue.

“Ava…”Seilos answers for her. No malice in his voice nor jealousy. Seilos knew his love for Danica would always be unmatched to the one she had for the boy she loved since childhood. 

Home. Buir. Father and Ava…

“You should go see them…” He helped her pack, putting away clothes and a set of books for her to read on the shuttle. 

“But then…” His heart was breaking but it was worse to see hers in shambles. 

“They will be so happy to see you. Everyone….” he gives her a sad smile, “I think it's time to visit home..” 

---

[honeylikewords]

together. (jack russell)

jack and his wife celebrate the gathering of friends and family. (pregnancy arc!)

(warnings: food, mentions of meat, mentions of the very real likelihood of pregnancy :>, jack being surprisingly flirty and physically affectionate at a family gathering. just a really short fluff piece! word count: 2.2k)

(for context, the idea for this fic is that Jack owns a cabin in the woods and has invited his monster friends and family out for a feast!)

Jack prods a large rack of ribs with a thermometer, expertly needling the meat between the bones and checking the temperature in one swift motion. Noting the number flashing on the small screen, he turns a knob down on the grill and shuts the lid over the meat, trapping the heat and smoke within. As he turns around, he beams at his wife, hands in the front pockets of his bright green apron emblazoned with the words “SMOKIN’ HOT GRILLMASTER” in flaming font.

“Should be ready in, eh, twenty minutes?”

“Oh, good, then we’re on schedule.”

His wife reaches past his hands into one of the pockets and pulls out a printed sheet that had been folded into a tiny square so many times that the paper had gone soft, then flicks it open. Scanning down the list of main courses, she eyes the side dishes, baked goods and desserts, each listed with an appropriate prep time and step taken. Scheduling had been a pain, but it was a necessary task; trying to coordinate feeding this many people in a timely manner was no small feat.

Inside the cabin, a timer goes off, and Jack perks his ears, head tilting slightly in the direction the sound came from. His nose lifts and he inhales, a smile spreading across his face, and he puts his hands on his wife’s hips, swaying her playfully.

“I cannot believe how good that stuffing smells, cielito,” he grins, squeezing her hips for emphasis. “You’re such a good cook. The best, probably, in the entire world.”

“Hope it tastes half as good as it smells,” she shrugs, trying to humble herself in the face of Jack’s effusive glee, but he merely giggles and presses his nose to hers, shaking his head.

“It’s going to be perfect; it already is! I can smell it!”

He’s been bright-eyed and bushy-tailed all day, for some reason, all-too-happy to fetch things for her and run kitchen errands and clean up the myriad dishes left in the wake of their work. He’s been hovering as well, even as the guests began trickling through the trees and bushes; Jack would sense them coming, whether by smell, sight, or sound and watch excitedly for their arrival, then tug her away from whatever she was doing to greet them, insisting on both of them being side by side.

The number of hands, paws, tentacles and claws she’d shaken today as Jack animatedly introduced her to his friends, new, old, and in-between, was a blur, and as the cabin’s grounds began to fill with familiar and unfamiliar faces, Jack’s elation only grew. Now, with his hand pulling softly at the small of her back and the guests milling freely across the land the cabin sits on, he guides her, beaming, back into the kitchen to pull out the three trays of stuffing from the oven.

They sit, cooling, on the counter as Jack opens the lid on a massive pot of mashed potatoes and gives it an experimental swirl with a spoon, lifting some out and blowing on it before offering it to his wife; he holds the spoon gingerly to her lips and smiles that crooked, nose-wrinkling smile when she goes in for the bite.

“That was cute,” he remarks.

“What was?,” she mumbles around a mouthful of potatoes; she’s a little unhappy with the flavor and going to melt in another knob of butter and snip in a few more chives. 

As she goes to grab the chives and kitchen scissors, Jack leans back against the counter and plucks a nugget of stuffing from the tray, still steaming, and pops it in his mouth, cleaning his fingers with his tongue. She should scold him for eating too-hot food, or eating with his fingers, or something else, but she gets distracted by the sight (his tongue’s dexterity is quite noticeable and he’s smiling a bit too wryly for it to have been an accident), and has to blink away the fog left by it.

“Your face,” Jack clarifies, still chewing. “You made this little “ah” face. ‘S very cute.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You’re just very, very cute,” he continues. 

He pushes off the counter and comes to close the gap between them, pressing his chest to her back as she cuts the chives over the pot with the scissors and tosses in a stray lump of butter left behind by some other recipe. His hands gravitate low, to the softest part of her tummy, and he rubs a slow circle there, fingers knitting into the strings of her apron.

“You’re in such a mood today,” she teases, stirring the potatoes. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing,” he says as he pushes his nose into the shell of her ear, kissing the lobe and squeezing her in his arms. His hands stay on her belly, and she reaches down to pat him, then pinches the back of his wrist playfully. 

“Well, as much as I love it, Puppy, you’re about to get burned on the stove--”

Instead of pulling off, Jack tugs her back from the cooktop and into his arms, burrowing his face into her shoulder and holding her still, fingers splayed over her tummy. She lets her arms rest atop his and leans back, sighing; it does, admittedly, feel very nice for the two of them to take a break from the hubbub and just enjoy each other, even if they haven’t been apart for more than a few minutes at a time.

“I’m just happy,” he mumbles. His lips brush against her neck and his words tickle her skin, making her shiver and squirm happily in his arms, which only pushes him to double down on the tightness of his embrace.

“I’m glad,” she responds, but he shakes his head, nestling deeper still.

“You don’t understand,” he continues. “You’re… we’re… I’m just so, I mean-- es eufórico, es maravilloso! Es… I just…”

His voice fades and he holds her flush against himself; outside, she can hear a game of touch football between the other monsters resolving into a dogpile, but the sound is a diminished half-note compared to the present, forward reality of Jack’s breathing against her skin, his hair brushing against hers, his arms corded around her waist. 

He draws in a breath and continues.

“I get to have a whole family. You, and me, and…”

Jack’s wide, fever-warm hand is splayed against her belly, and she looks down at it as he traces one finger over the bump of the knot in her apron ties, which rests above her navel. He presses in softly; not enough to feel pushed on, but a light, tender application of pressure that reassures her of his intent, and of his warmth. 

She turns in his hold, placing her fingertips on his slightly stubbled chin, and the touch guides his head up to meet her gaze. His eyes glow half-hazel in the golden light of the kitchen, and they flicker over her face searchingly, hoping for something from her. She grants him a smile, one that crinkles her eyes and makes him instinctively smile back as his hand twitches; when she kisses him, his hand strokes against her like a kiss to her tummy, too.

They can let some of this food sit a few minutes longer.

Jack stands on one of the picnic tables in the clearing, puts his middle finger and thumb to his lips, and lets out an almighty wolf whistle that rips through the trees. Dozens of heads snap to attention and Jack waves his arms over his head, summoning the clutter of monsters towards the tables laden with food (and some laden with things a human might not consider edible, but that many of the guests were sure to appreciate). 

As they begin to trickle in-- away from activities like rag-tag sports, card games, and gaggling near screens playing the national parades-- Jack remains on the table, bending down briefly to lift a full champagne flute up and tap its lip with a fork. The tinkling chime rings over the crowd and, once again, his friends focus their attention on him, now encircling the table he is atop.

“Thank you all so much for coming,” he begins, smiling in that broad, effervescent way he does when addressing a group. 

She watches him from the other end of the table, seated at the head with an empty chair beside her reserved for him. In the setting light of the sun, the greys in Jack’s hair shine gold and what remains of the brown comes to life with fiery red hues, the beams tracing against his cheekbones and jaw and drawing soft shadows. His slightly more full upper lip curls over his crooked tooth as he casts her a quick glance and widens his smile, somehow, further still. 

He’s shed his apron and put back on his fineries for the night: a dark green pair of trousers and his second-favorite black button-up, the sleeves rolled into place and the collar opened. His leather shoes reflect sparks of the sunset back across the table as he shifts his posture, weight coming to rest on his back foot. He knows how to captivate attention, somehow: it comes naturally to him, a sort of inherent magnetism that is uniquely Jack’s. 

When he addresses them, he fixes his eyes on various members of the crowd, shifting attention to organically and individually speak to an entire group; she wonders how he ever manages to become shy when he’s this beguiling. 

“I am overjoyed to be here, today, with all of you,” Jack continues, his glass held delicately as he turns to look at the breadth of his party. “Not only with those of you who are like me, but especially those of you who are different,  each and all of us siblings to one another in this world.”

The crowd rumbles in agreement-- somewhere, she can hear Ted’s instantly recognizable grunting-- and Jack nods, extending his glass out to gesture at the people before him. 

In the mass she can see others she knows to be wolves, a pair of minotaurs, ghouls and a few members of the undead; pointed ears give away some of the docile vampires, whereas other loved ones defy singular description as any one creature, more aptly seen as amalgams or chimeras. She sees the bright eyes of night-stalkers and the sloped shoulders of mountain-apes, and each face, though distinct, seems lit with a unifying ardor: they are home, among one another.

“On days like these, it is good to remember that none of us, no matter how unusual our circumstances, are alone: that through our trials, we find one another, and that we are here to love each other, even when the world seeks to convince us that we are unwanted. But, together, we are wanted,” Jack states.

“Together, we are loved.” 

He raises his glass high and grins. When he moves his hand, his wedding band burns bright in the last rays of the day.

“Together, we become family! Salud!”

He tips back the shimmering drink and others in the throng follow suit, cheering and drawing in sips of their beverages in celebration. Now finished with his address, Jack finally descends from the table and makes his way through the crowd, tossing his arm around friends’ shoulders or patting their faces, waving and laughing at his beloved family.

She loves to see him like this-- surrounded by those he loves, Jack becomes even more himself, fit to burst with all the joy he seeks to share-- and as he approaches, he turns his gaze to her, again, and her love multiplies.

He looks at her like she, herself, hangs the stars and the moon in the sky each night, like she’s every present that has ever been under the tree, as if she’s come home from a thousand years apart. Jack’s illuminating, radiant happiness is utterly compelling, and impossible to resist in its infectiousness; she finds herself beaming back in equal measure as he finally is able to pass through the crowd to near her.

Jack comes to sit by her side and places excited kiss after kiss against the side of her face, peppering them along her cheekbones and the tip of her nose as she shrinks into his shoulder. He tuts something about not being shy and tries to coax her out, but she obstinately hides herself in the warm haven of his neck and shoulder, both abashed at the idea of being so amorous in front of his family and divinely desirous of the closeness and comfort she has achieved in his hold. There’s a faint chill in the air as the night descends, and he’s blissfully warm; why would she ever leave?

“Alright then,” he teases, pinching her side and tugging her chair as close as possible to his own to throw his arm around her shoulder, “We’ll eat like this. I’ll get the fork and put it into that little cavern for you. Hm?”

“Works for me, Puppy,” she replies. 

“But, amorcita, please,” he implores, “If you don’t come out, who is Alan going to tell that awful story about the time he got trapped in a castle well for a week?”

Someone halfway down the table yells at Jack that it’s “hardly an awful story” and that it was “only a few days”, but the feeling of Jack’s shoulders bouncing with his laughter and the sound of it rippling through her ears is enough to make her want to pull free and see his elated face herself. 

Today was about their family, after all, she reminded herself, and she’d like to look at the father of her child.

links to previous fics in this series:

cubs.

familia.

penumbra.

bedrest.

thank you for reading! this was a short one but i wanted to get it out in time for the Dread Holiday; it was all written in ~3 hours, in one night, so if you see any errors... well, that’s why!

anyway, comments and replies are always appreciated, and give me immense motivation to continue these stories! feel free to let me know what you thought and what you’d like to see next!

[rocorambles]

Surprise Interview

Pairing: Kenma x Reader

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Yandere, Pseudo-Cest, Dub-Con/Non-Con, Verbal Humiliation, Manipulation

Summary: Kenma sees if you have what it takes to be Bouncing Ball’s newest employee.

A/N: This is for @sugawara-sweetheart ‘s Decadence Collab. So excited to be a part of this collab and to be able to indulge in such a delicious prompt and theme. Be sure to check out everyone else’s works! As always, thanks for beta-ing @sawamooora ~

There’s a familiar peace and a new nervousness about coming back home for the holidays. Mostly because home isn’t quite the same home it used to be. You can feel warmth blooming in your chest at the thought of seeing your mom, telling her about everything and everyone (as if your daily phone calls aren’t enough), and just lounging around while she fills you up with her cooking. But you can also feel a certain shyness as you approach the house, a building that still feels brand new and strange to you.

Your mother had gotten remarried during your earlier college years after your father’s passing and you were elated for her. If anyone deserves all the happiness in the world, it’s her. You had met Mr. Kozume quite a few times and you have no qualms with the man. He treats your mother like a queen and even though you playfully gag as they sweet talk and kiss in front of you, you wholeheartedly approve of their relationship.

However, what you aren’t quite as prepared for is having a new step-sibling.

You don’t know much about Kenma Kozume. Well, not much more than the rest of the world does.

Professional gamer. Successful stock trader. Popular YouTuber. Founder of his own corporation.

You know exactly who your new brother is, but other than seeing him a few times in person at family gatherings and exchanging polite greetings, there’s no real connection. Which is why your heart races as you nervously ring his doorbell, anxiety already making your leg twitch as you wait for the door to open.

Your mother and step-father are on a couple’s vacation and won’t be returning for a few days.

(“We just want some romantic time together before we have a full house again for the holidays. Plus this is a great chance to get to know your older brother better!” You hadn’t even been able to get a word of protest in before she had laughed and hung up on you, leaving you speechless and on your own as you hesitantly texted Kenma, letting him know what day to expect you.)

Kenma is quiet as ever as he nods in greeting, silently leading you to your guest room before quietly telling you to make yourself at home and leaving to do his own thing. You let out a huge sigh of relief as the door closes behind him.

There’s nothing wrong with Kenma. He’s smart and successful. Maybe a bit on the quiet side, but that only adds to his down to earth charm. You know your mother and step-father adore him and you can’t blame them. Yet, you can’t help but feel scrutinized, seen so clearly in a way that terrifies you when his feline eyes gaze at you. It takes everything in you not to immediately scurry away whenever you’re in viewing distance of him, desperate to hide all the flaws you imagine he’s noticing and calculating. Your step-father had mentioned how Kenma used to be the strategist of his high school volleyball team, and has always been able to evaluate and accurately break down situations and people. And you believe it.

You’re just grateful the house is large enough to avoid each other and that Kenma tends to reside mostly in his home office and bedroom.

But even the founder of a company needs a break from time to time. Kenma shuffles towards the gaming room, only to blink in surprise when he sees you already inside of it, happily smiling as Animal Crossing visuals and sounds fill the space.

He had known you owned a Nintendo Switch, a piece of information your mom had shared to break the ice a bit. And it’s really no surprise that this is your go-to game. But knowing and seeing are two different things and he can’t help but let his own lips twitch upwards at how calm and relaxed you are tending to your garden, decorating your home, choosing your outfit.

Kenma’s never been good with people, has never been the one to initiate a friendship. He knows he should have made more of an effort to be friendly and welcoming to you as your new older brother. There’s a slight pang of regret in his chest when he sees how at ease you are while you’re unaware of his presence. His eyes are as sharp as ever and he locks in on the way your body slightly stiffens, fingers nervously fidgeting when you finally notice his figure in the doorway, words already stuttering an apology for using his game room without explicitly asking.

You look like a scared mouse about to flee from the claws of a cat. And it pisses him off.

He hasn’t made the best efforts to bridge the gap between you, but for you to fear him? That seems a tad unnecessary, and more than a tad insulting. It’s more than enough to make the sadistic streak in him want to give you something to be scared about.

But he’s never been impulsive and he just quietly sits beside you on the floor, reassuring you it’s fine to play, smirking when you sneak little side glances his way as you continue collecting fruits.

“Kozume, do you want to play-”

“Just call me Kenma.”

Entranced eyes watch as you grow flustered at his words, mouth silently testing the weight of his given name in your mouth. For once, Kenma could care less about playing video games when a shaky timid “Kenma” slips past your soft lips.

“Kenma, do you want to play something together?”

You have no idea how badly he really does want to play together, but it’s a game you’re not ready for. So he calls upon any restraint he has to pluck your device from your hands and change the game to Mario Kart.

It’s amusing how easily you soften besides him, brow furrowing in concentration, eyes intently and eagerly following the screen, any anxiousness quickly forgotten as you get into the game. He greedily watches as you pout when you make a mistake, as your eyes light up every time you pass someone.

If he had known how easy it would be to make you warm up to him, he’d have done this sooner and he genuinely laughs when you whine and fake glare at him as he wins yet another round.

He asks about school. You ask about work. He tells you about his childhood. You share your own stories.

It’s a comfortable rhythmic back and forth and he’s afraid of ruining it, but a certain question nags at his mind, a question he knows may ruin the entire flow of the conversation.

“You’ll be graduating soon. Have you decided what you want to do after college?”

“Kenma not you too!!!”

His shoulders relax at how well you react to the question, smiling at the way you flop onto your back and groan about how mom and dad are already on your case about future plans.

“I’ve been applying to places, but who knows. Maybe I’ll just work for you at Bouncing Ball.”

There’s a playful lilt in your voice when you say it, a giggle and teasing smile accompanying the words. But there’s nothing funny about it to Kenma and your smile falters a bit when you see how tightly Kenma’s gripping his controller, the way his eyes pin you down.

“Kenma? It’s just a joke. I would never take advantage of-”

You try to get up from your reclined position, only to whimper in confusion when Kenma’s hand on your shoulder forces you back down. And suddenly you’re pinned down by more than just his stare as he moves to straddle you, knees on either side of your body, hands next to your head, his whole body caging yours.

It’s a lighthearted joke in the family that if all else fails, you could always work at Bouncing Ball. A joke your step-father and mother always dish out when the arguments get too tense as the three of you talk about your future. But it’s become less in jest for Kenma, especially after Kuroo sent him a scandalous picture of his newest secretary kneeling between his long legs, lips wrapped around his cock.

It wasn’t the first picture, nor was it the last incriminating photo the older businessman had sent him. Kenma merely rolled his eyes before deleting the image from his phone, wondering when Kuroo would grow bored and find a new toy to play with. But he freezes when he sees the following text message from his long-time friend.

“You’re the CEO of a company, Kenma. Wouldn’t it be nice to have someone convenient around? A pretty warm body? I bet that cute new step sister of yours would look really good under your desk. Doesn’t she graduate from college soon? If you don’t make a move, maybe I’ll snatch her up right from under your nose. I’m due for a change of secretary soon.”

There’s absolutely no reason for the hot anger that lances through him at Kuroo’s taunting words and he grimaces at playing right into his ex-captain’s hands, already hearing Kuroo’s braying laughter in his head if the older man saw just how much his words affected him.

But initial irritation aside, he lets himself really think, really imagine what a life with you at his beck and call would be like. And he likes what he sees. He doesn’t delete Kuroo’s photos as quickly as he used to, replacing the female faces with yours in his imagination as his hands slip under the hem of his boxers.

He knows it’s a longshot, knows there’s a high chance you’ll continue your lives as is, never destined to exchange more than a few polite greetings at family outings. But now...now hearing you voice the idea out loud yourself, hearing the way his first name sounds from your lips…

Maybe it’s not the silly pipe dream he had believed it to be.

“I’m in need of an assistant if you really do want to work at Bouncing Ball, but you’d need to prove why it would be worth hiring you.”

He almost laughs at how you perk up despite the precarious position you’re in, almost ready to launch into an elevator pitch of your qualifications flat on your back underneath him. You’re quite the multitasker already and he groans at the thought of having you cockwarm him while he tests out a new video game, making you answer all his calls stuffed full of him and desperately trying to hide the lustful tremble in your voice.

But he’s not here to listen to your carefully crafted speech. (Guess you really were practicing for job interviews like you said you were. What a good girl.) And he firmly presses his lips against yours to silence you, taking his time to immerse himself in the way your mouths mold against each other.

Your taste, your smell, your warmth. It’s all intoxicating and he slips his tongue inside your parted lips, subtly rutting his groin against your body. He can feel your body jostle as you lift your arms and he waits for the weight of your arms to lovingly wrap around his neck, only to be shocked when you weakly press against his shoulders until he finally relents and pulls back just enough to look down at you in irritated confusion.

“We- we shouldn’t be doing this.”

It’s not the words that have him clenching his fists, not even the way your palms still timidly press against him in a laughably weak show of defense.

It’s the fear in your eyes, the way you look at him like he’s some monster. It's the way he can almost palpably feel and hear your desire to be anywhere other than here, with anyone other than him, wishing to put as much space between the two of you as possible.

It’s your rejection.

It hurts to know that he isn’t enough just as he is, that he needs to resort to less...savory and straightforward ways to entrap you. But he’s not Hinata or Kuroo. He doesn’t have an electrifying personality or roguishly handsome features and charm to woo you. He only has his cunning and sharp tongue.

And he fully intends on maximizing his gifts.

“Of course, you don’t have to. You can just keep on applying and getting rejected by every company you speak to, if they even bother meeting with you after seeing your pathetic resume. Average college. Average grades. Average major. Tell me, how many interviews have you actually been reached out to for?”

He’s going out on a bit of a limb, but his suspicions are right and he cruelly smirks at the way tears bubble in your eyes at his words, no comeback or denial rolling off the tip of your tongue. He had a feeling you were struggling from the bits and pieces he’s picked up as your parents quietly talk and fret over you actually being able to find a job after graduation.

“Our parents are too nice to say anything about it, but you know they’re disappointed in you, right? Have you noticed how they always avoid talking about how school is going or asking you about how job hunting is going? How they only ask me how work is going? It’s because they know you’re just a loser whose life is going to amount to nothing.”

“That’s not true! They love me-”

“I’m not saying they don’t love you, but doesn’t that make it even worse? Making your loving and caring parents worry and stress over you when they should be preparing for retirement, an easy life? Instead of letting them finally enjoy a carefree life, you’ll be their freeloader daughter who uses up all their remaining funds. Is that what you want?”

You really are too easy and his lips curl in satisfaction at the way you frantically shake your head side to side, fat wet drops streaming down your face, adorable sniffles filling the air.

“If you become my assistant, I’ll compensate you well. You can live here with me, have your own room, a roof over your head, all the food and clothing you need and want. Think about how relieved and happy our parents will be seeing you provided for, seeing us getting along. Isn’t that what you want? For them to be happy?”

He knows how close you are to your mom, how important this idea of a perfect family is to you. He knows how insecurity and doubt about your own capabilities torment you. And he knows you’re hooked on his claws when your hands that are still pressed against his shoulders drop limply besides you, not even a hint of resistance left in you when he leans down once more to rest his forehead on yours, one hand cupping the side of your face.

“This is all you’re good for anyway. Working underneath me.”

If you notice his pun, you don’t acknowledge it, too busy wincing and squirming as he harshly nips and bites a trail from your lips to your neck as he pushes up the hem of your shirt until your chest is on full display for him. There’s something experimental, cold, meticulous about the way he gropes and fondles your breasts.Your face heats in humiliation at how he treats you like one of the many game consoles he’s reviewed for his audience.

But you don’t do anything about it, telling yourself that this is just his version of an interview as he pinches and prods at you, meanly twisting your nipples and chuckling at your yelp of pain. You obediently let him spread your legs apart, only letting out an agonized cry as he tests your flexibility, staring at him with a trembling lower lip as he sharply tells you to shut up while scrutinizing your panty-covered sex.

“You really are made for this, aren’t you?”

You whimper as he nudges the small wet spot on the thin fabric, clenching your eyes shut in denial at how hot and wound up your body feels from his touch, unable to hide your gasp as he pulls the layer aside and rubs your aroused clit.

There’s something so different about the way his fingers slowly sink into your wet pussy, almost lazily curling against your soft walls, his thumb never stopping its careful massage on the bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs. So different from your own fingers desperately thrusting in and out of you. So different from the drunk partners you’ve hooked up with at college and their sloppy, rapid, frantic movements.

You can feel something large, something intimidating slowly rising from deep inside of you, a volcano about to erupt compared to the bright and fast to fade shooting stars you’re used to. You’re scared. Scared of the intoxicating feeling, of how easy it is to grow accustomed to Kenma’s presence, of how his cat-like eyes are all you can see and think of.

How can something feel so wrong and so right at the same time?

That’s the last coherent thought you have before your world goes blank, pleasure rocking through you as you soak the carpet and your step-brother’s hand with your juices. You’re moaning as Kenma continues to rock his fingers in and out of you, fingertips insistently massaging your clit and g-spot as you ride out your orgasm, body trembling and convulsing.

But even when the tremors slow, when pleasure becomes something sharper, more overwhelming, he doesn’t stop. You wail, begging him to stop, to let you rest, slumping in relief when he finally drags his hands away from you, carelessly wiping the mess you’ve made of his hand on your skin, covering you in your own essence.

Your heavy eyelids threaten to flutter shut as you let exhaustion wash over you, already dreading having to get up and wash yourself. But you’re shocked back to reality as something hard begins to nudge at your still fluttering entrance.

“Kenma! No! Too much-”

You break off into a sob as surprisingly strong hands dig into your hips, holding you still as he pushes and pushes until he’s fully settled inside of you, balls resting against your ass.

You’re still so tight, your quivering walls clamping around the intrusion, and he groans at the thought of being able to sink into this hole every day, multiple times, whenever he wants. His cock is already aching from holding off for so long, from watching your body and face contorted in pleasure. Kenma can feel his end quickly approaching as you scream and wail underneath him, eyes rolling back in your head, drool trickling from the corner of your mouth. You look absolutely obscene and he doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of this side of you.

But despite the way his balls are tightening, despite the stutter in his hips, he’s determined to watch you fall apart once more, to see you shatter to pieces yet again. He grits his teeth, fingers reaching down to furiously rub at your already oversensitized clit, reveling in how your back arches, thighs shaking in overstimulation, and then you snap.

He wonders what his parents would think of their dear dumb daughter now, looking nothing like their silly angel, looking like a wanton used whore, incoherent garbled noises slipping past your lips as you twitch uncontrollably, your pussy milking him dry as he cums inside of you.

There’s only silence mixed with your pitiful whimpers as he slides out of you, grimacing at the sticky mess you’ve made of yourself and him. But that’s what your other hole is for and he orders you to suck him clean, admiring what a quick learner you are, eager to please as you noisily slurp and lick him clean, moaning at the taste of your combined fluids...

Maybe too eager and he shoves you off of him when you become too enthusiastic, his cock beginning to twitch in interest once more.

You look so lost, still sprawled out on the ground, staring up at him with wide imploring eyes as he pulls up his pants. So vulnerable and in need of guidance.

Good thing you have such a great boss to manage you.

“Not bad. Consider these next few days your internship and if all goes well, I’ll be more than happy to hire you as Bouncing Ball’s newest employee this summer. Now clean up this room and show me that my future assistant can do more than just be a slut.”

[i-became-the-lady-of-the-blog]

Here is an idea for yandere Dire Crowley, as expected from thot blog, it has sex in it. Read more is added because the length. No beta

——

MC had been asking the same questions over and over again, when she can go back to home, what’s his progress in finding a way to home, ya da ya da ya da

Dire had it enough. But that’s not all. He had MC, gave her clothes and a place to sleep. Instead of worshipping the he walked in, she wanted to leave! How ungrateful she was!!! On top of that, she was wasting the things he gave to her on her friends

This had to end...

Dire cooked up a plan and was sure it would work

Dire said “I have found a way for you to return home but there is an issue with one of the ingredients.”

MC was elated to hear she could go back home “What’s the ingredient? I’d climb Mount Everest to get it!”

He didn’t understand what she meant but she walked in his trap “One of the ingredients is the mixture of body fluids of spell caster and the user”

MC was embarrassed to hear but also so desperate to return home “I can bring some next morning”

“It cannot be mixed outside the bodies. If you do it, the spell won’t work and it has to be done by fortnight. And we need to gather as much as we can for spell to work” The magic was crazy for her and it didn’t have to make sense as he made her rush to the decision

MC was reluctant at first but she had no other choice. Dire was not going to ravish her in the dorm where ghosts would know what they do. He teleported them to his room.

He took off his gloves, hat and jacket leaving them on his dresser. He turned to see how nervous MC was which excited him even more. He grabbed a bottle from his drawer and handed it to MC, telling her it was just contraceptive potion. After drinking the potion, she told him she is ready.

He could have taken out all of their clothes with magic but he wanted to savour the moment. He slowly took off her clothes, his hands grazing her skin as the article of clothing fell to the ground one by one, leaving her in her underwear. Then it was his turn.

“If you please help” She nodded, her hands found their way to his vest and stated to unbutton him, followed by his shirt. Another time she might have enjoyed the appearance of his toned body but as of now it was nerve wrecking and it was about to become worse since she had to remove his pants too.

Dire already took off his shoes, was waiting for her to unbuckle his belt and take off his pants. He felt himself harden when her hands unzipped his pants and she knelt on her knees to remove the rest of it. When it was done, he saw her face his clothed cock, seemed surprised to see the bulge. He barely held himself from thrusting forward. She got up and reached to his mask, was stopped by his hand. “Later” he said before reaching towards her bra “We need to normalize seeing each other’s naked body or this week won’t pass” She nodded, letting him do as he pleased.

He unhooked her bra, freeing her breasts. He let her bra fall to the ground as he admired her chest, how good they would feel if he were message them and lick her nipples. It would be real in a few minutes. He then took off her knickers and told her to remove his. They had plenty of time to admire those parts later.

He removed the duvets with magic. “This might hurt but as kind person, I’ll be as gentle as possible.” Dire said, pushing her down on his bed.

“I had sex before. Yet, we still need to have foreplay so I won’t be harmed” Well that was bummer but her past doesn’t matter.

He dimmed the lights with his magic before he took off his mask and threw somewhere in the room. He didn’t want MC to see his face yet while thanks to his nature he would see all of her reactions. She would feel his face soon either way.

“Call me Dire when we are alone, MC” He said wanted her to sing his name as he brought pleasure beyond her wildest dreams. He pressed her to the bed, giving her a deep kiss and leaving her surprised. His lips move from hers to her jaw, her neck then her chest. Taking one nipple to his mouth, his hand moves to message the other one. Her breathing hitched, unintentionally pushing her chest forward Dire, letting out a soft moan. His ear picked it up as a smirk formed on his face. His stimulation was working and her moan just encouraged him further. He suckled her nipple more until moving on to the next one, giving the same attention to it.

He could smell her arousal but he was not done yet. MC asked for foreplay then Dire shall deliver it. When he deemed it was enough nipple play, he kissed his way down to her crotch. Spreading her legs further for better access, he took a good look at her cunt. What a pretty little thing, he thought. He started to kiss from his inner thighs to the main dish. He sucked her thigh, leaving hickeys that no one but them would see, he graze his fangs along her skin, he felt her tense whilst thrusting her hips. He continued to give attention to her thighs all while looking at MC’s face. She was covering her mouth with her hand, suppressing her moans. That was not going to do so he pulled her hand away “There is no shame here. Let your body sing” She nodded, letting out loud moan when he continued to kissing her thighs, moving towards her vagina.

When he reached her slit, he slid his nose like credit card before his tongue playing with her clit. He moved down to her vagina and without wasting any time he slammed his mouth on her vagina, his tongue exploring it while his nose brushed her clit. With one hand he was gripping her leg, moving it for better angle while with the other one he was messaging her breast. Soon she tried to clamp her legs together, squeezing Dire in between but that didn’t stop him. His tongues dwelled as much as it could, touching as many places it could. His fangs was brushing against her pussy time to time but it was just making her more excited. Her hand dangled in his hair, pressing her further while her hips her thrusting against him. It was euphoric and soon she felt her orgasm coming, her toes clenched as her back arched.

Dire did t want to waste time by waiting for her to come down from her high. Normally, he would expect oral in return but right now, he just wanted to cum inside her. He crawled over MC, positioning her legs for deeper penetration, her legs clasped around his chest. He looked at her face, how needy she looked, he was such a kind person to fulfill her needs. Without further ado, his cock penetrated her vagina. A deep moan left his lips as he felt her vaginal walls around his cock before he could stop himself. He just wished he could have felt this divine feeling before.

Dire was not alone in the pleasurable feeling as MC moaned as well. He brushed her hair out of her face before kissing her as he started to thrust forward. He didn’t stop thrusting his hips and soon he and MC were in synch. He was kissing her neck and jaw then mouth when she let another moan out which was silenced by his mouth.

Dire felt MC arching her back as her walls started to tense, understanding that she is close to her release, he sped up. Her walls clenched around his cock as she cummed, making him release too. Both were panting, trying to catch their breaths but Dire recovered faster.

“Sh-should we gather our cums now?” She asked.

“It’s better to gather when there is more. I am not taking my cock out so our cums won’t leak out” He reasoned with her and she nodded in agreement. When Dire recovered enough for second round, he started to move again. It had been so long since he had had sex. He is unsure if he had ever felt this way before. It had to be MC’s doing and he was glad for every moment of it.

The next two weeks went the same way. The only difference was MC was less embarrassed to be naked in front of Dire. When it was the day to cast the spell, Dire convinced her to have more sex as to get more cum mixture for the spell.

MC was so tired after so many rounds that she just closed her eyes for 5 seconds.

—

She opened her eyes, it was dawn, the sunrise was lightening the room. Where she was didn’t register with her at first. After blinking a few times, she realized she was still in Dire’s bed. She turned to her side and saw him facing the other way while his hand was thrown over her. Did he forget that he was suppose to cast the magic at dawn?

MC shook Dire awake, he was being mumbling under his breath, telling to let him sleep. There was no time to waste so she shook him more harshly.

Dire turned to face her, he was not wearing mask nor the dark was covering his face. His eyes stood out as a confirmation of his fae genealogy. She didn’t expect him to look this good but she couldn’t focus on that now. “What is it, my dear?” She was baffled to be called my dear but there was no time now.

She changed to sitting position, readying to leave the bed “You have to cast the magic before sun rises completely!” She tried to get up from bed but his arm over her didn’t budge. “Dire! Hurry!”

Dire chuckled, standing on his elbow. “Oh my dearest,” he took the hair in front of her face and tucked behind her ear with his hand that was over her. “Did you really think there was a spell such that?” He smirked as he brushed her cheek.

“B-but”

“You brat are not going anywhere. Now go back to sleep.” He swung his arms over her, pushing her back to the bed. She tried to remove his arm and get away but it was no use. “Besides why would I let the mother of my child get away?”

That shocked MC. “WHAT?! You gave me contraceptives!”

Dire laughed cruelly. “That was to increase fertility and stamina.” He lifted himself up lightly, moving the sheet and getting closer to her belly. “Maybe you are already pregnant from our first night together. It takes 2 weeks for impregnation of your kind.” Kissing her belly, “Hey little one!”

Dire straighten himself on the bed and pulling her harshly, he spooned her. “You should rest, my love. This might be the only time you’ll be able to rest.” He kissed her cheek and let his head fall to the pillow.

MC struggled to get away from his grip but it was impossible and was tiresome. Her nails dug into his hands, thinking that pain would cause him to let go but it was impossible.

All MC wanted back was the big house with red door, the lemon tree outside her window...

——

Kudos if you understand the last line’s reference.

[delicioussshame]

Have more of Luo Binghe trying to rationalise buying his love interest.

Luo Binghe’s constant pacing is only interrupted by Shen-laoshi’s arrival.

From the look of it, his teacher is too occupied with taking in Luo Binghe’s penthouse to spare him much attention, which is perfect. It leaves him completely free to take in Shen-laoshi himself.

He hadn’t been wrong. Shen-laoshi is so thin he’s verging on unhealthy. The result of too much work and not enough home-cooked food, surely. Luo Binghe would be worried if he didn’t know it wouldn’t last. Shen-laoshi had always eaten every dish Luo Binghe used to bring to his tutoring sessions, the only thanks he could afford at the time, with every sign of enjoyment. Luo Binghe fully intends to rekindle that tradition.

“This is a bad idea.”

Luo Binghe is too fast; he steals Shen-laoshi’s small luggage before he can take it back. “Am I such a bad host that Shen-laoshi won’t even give me a chance to show him hospitality? He should at least let me serve him the meal I prepared for him. It would be a shame for the food to go to waste.”

He doesn’t smile when Shen-laoshi visibly hesitates. “Binghe still cooks? Doesn’t he have people for that?”

Luo Binghe would never let strangers handle his food in his own home. “I do. I’ve always enjoyed cooking, especially for others. It’ll be a pleasure to do so again.” It’s not a lie. He does enjoy cooking for others, as long as he cares about those others. The people he holds dear are just very few.

Shen-laoshi throws a longing glance at the door, but slumps in defeat. “Well, I guess it would be rude not to at least stay for dinner then.”

“And Shen-laoshi is never rude.” Luo Binghe starts for his room. “Here, I’ll put your baggage away.”

Shen-laoshi follows him in a hurry. “Binghe, wait! Where are you going?”

Could he settle Shen-laoshi somewhere less provocative than in his own bedroom? Yes, he could have. He’d thought about it. The last thing he wanted was to spook Shen-laoshi away. He does want to take his time, in his own way.

But he knows his teacher. He’d made Luo Binghe’s adolescence hell with his complete obliviousness to his student’s shamefully evident crush. If his interest is too subtle, Shen-laoshi will fool himself into thinking it’s platonic, which it never was.

Shen-laoshi freezes when he enters a room he has to recognise as Luo Binghe’s. “Binghe…”

Luo Binghe ignores him in favor of setting the luggage down beside a dresser. “This is yours. I did say you didn’t have to bring anything if you didn’t want to, so there are clothes in it and in the closet. Take whatever you want.” Would he love to see Shen-laoshi leaves his bathroom with wet hair dripping down on a shirt Luo Binghe had bought him? Why yes, he would very much enjoy that. Also, Shen-laoshi deserves better than the worn garments he was usually seen in.

But if it’s too much, too fast, he’ll settle for Shen-laoshi’s own clothes stored in his home, like they belonged there.

Shen-laoshi peeks into the closet gingerly. “…Binghe, that’s way too much.”

It is not. “It’s nothing less than Laoshi deserves.”

Shen-laoshi shakes his head. “I don’t know what story you’ve constructed about me, but Binghe must be confused about something. What I have ever done for you to think this all makes sense?”

Luo Binghe could spend hours explaining to Shen-laoshi how lonely he’d been as a child. Struggling to adjust after his mother’s death, terribly aware that what little money she left him wouldn’t last forever, the soothing presence of Shen-laoshi, the only adult willing to listen to him, had been a lifeline he’d needed more than anything. He’d promised himself he’d be the same for him, when he would be able to.

He could, but he’s afraid he’ll scare Shen-laoshi away. He’s been told before he can be a bit… intense. “Shen-laoshi will understand in time. Meanwhile, why doesn’t he follow me to the dining room? Now that you’re here, we should catch up properly. There is so much I want to share with him!” The urge to reach for him, to put a hand on his back or his arm to guide him makes itself known, but he restrains himself. Patience. He can’t spook his teacher, or he’ll run.

Shen-laoshi doesn’t fight the suggestion, meekly following along.

Dinner is nice and uncomplicated. Luo Binghe deliberately keeps conversation light, retreating to familiar grounds, his studies. After all, Shen-laoshi is the only reason Luo Binghe managed to ace the required entrance test. He should be made aware of the results of his hard work.

As he prattles on, he gets to see Shen-laoshi’s walls fall, piece by piece, as he forgets why he’s here to only focus on Luo Binghe’s words. Luo Binghe knows Shen-laoshi has always been fond of him. With insight, he can tell he was favored, maybe more than a teacher should favor one of his students. As long as Shen-laoshi can think of Luo Binghe as that student of his, he’ll happily let himself be entertained.

If he had time, he would have invited Shen-laoshi over to such dinners. He’d have taken him out to good restaurants. He’d have visited museums with him, taken him shopping, walked around the city by his side until Shen-laoshi would have accepted him, and then he would have confessed.

But that would have meant letting the object of his affection struggle through another summer of part-time jobs, tutoring gigs and calligraphy lessons that barely paid the rent. Shen-laoshi would have been stretched even thinner.

Luo Binghe couldn’t allow it.

He waves Shen-laoshi away after dinner, claiming work he has to finish before tomorrow. He, of course, would prefer to spend the rest of the evening with him, but the point of this manoeuvre is to let Shen-laoshi discover his house by himself. It’s a show of trust, demonstrating he has nothing to hide from his teacher.

It’s also a chance for him to find the room Luo Binghe always thought of as his.

He believes it will be obvious. The rest of the house has been professionally decorated, all tasteful whites with the occasional colorful accent.

Shen-laoshi’s study is all soft green and rosewood furniture, a more antiquated style Luo Binghe had always associated with his teacher. Nothing like the modern feel of the rest of the house. There are shelves, some stocked with classic literature, others empty, waiting for their proper owner to fill them as he saw fit. A fully furnished desk with the latest tech. A soft, huge couch Luo Binghe made sure he could sleep on comfortably if he wanted to. Large windows letting in the sun in the morning. A few plants Luo Binghe diligently watered so that they’d be radiant when Shen-laoshi first saw them.

A space just for him.

Luo Binghe thrills as he heard Shen-laoshi putters around the house, the muffled sounds of his steps on the hardwood floor or of doors opening and closing softly obliterating the silence he’s used to, reminding him each time that this is real, that Shen-laoshi really is here with him. It’s a good thing the work he has to do isn’t too demanding, because he could never focus in this state of elation.

He hopes his teacher likes the place, though he’d move in a heartbeat if Shen-laoshi found it lacking in any way.

After a while, the sounds stop. Luo Binghe supposes he found the study.

When, a few hours later, he closes his laptop for good, he does find Shen-laoshi sitting on the couch, engrossed in one of the books.

He smiles. The sight of Shen-laoshi making himself home here is very pleasing to his more possessive tendencies. “I see Shen-laoshi have found a way to entertain himself.”

Shen-laoshi startles. “Binghe!” He sets the book down. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude, it’s just-“

Luo Binghe cuts him off. “Shen-laoshi has done nothing wrong. All that is mine is his, and these books were always intended for him.” He opens the desk’s drawer and hands him the card. “He is welcome to purchase any book he wants to read, or anything else he lacks. He doesn’t have to restrain himself.”

The credit card is a crass reminder of their supposed arrangement, but there is no way around it. Luo Binghe wants Shen-laoshi to get all he desires, and money facilitates that process.

Shen-laoshi doesn’t take the card. “Binghe, I can’t accept this. This isn’t right.”

Luo Binghe is getting quite tired of Shen-laoshi’s refusals, no matter how expected they were. “Please do. It would make me so happy to know Shen-laoshi is provided for, for once. But it is getting late.” Luo Binghe settles the card back into the drawer, ostentatiously, so that Shen-laoshi knows where to find it tomorrow, when he’s alone in Luo Binghe’s apartment and wondering how to spend his time. Once he’s done, he offers Shen-laoshi his hand, keeping his face blank and his tone simply pleasant. “Will Shen-laoshi turn in for the night?”

He sees Shen-laoshi tense as it becomes impossible for him not to worry about what will be coming next.

The silence stretches on.

Luo Binghe breaks first. “Shen-laoshi doesn’t have to worry. He needs to recuperate. I wouldn’t keep him from his sleep.”

The hand finally settling in his still is a bit unsure.

Luo Binghe decides to ignore it, preferring to focus on its warmth and the fluttering feeling of holding Shen-laoshi’s hand.

“Binghe shouldn’t call me Laoshi in this context. It’s… He shouldn’t.”

“What should I call him, then?”

“My name, simply. Shen Yuan.”

Shen Yuan.

While to Luo Binghe, Shen Yuan will always be his teacher first, he can definitely learn to love the sound of his name. “Shen Yuan it is.”

Luo Binghe lets Shen Yuan uses the main bathroom while he uses a guest’s, and tries to steel himself for what will be coming next.

He doesn’t manage it.

Even if the pajamas Shen-laoshi are wearing offer him full coverage to the point of prudishness, it’s still Shen-laoshi standing by his bed, waiting for him to signal how to proceed.

Luo Binghe bites his tongue until he tastes blood as he himself settles down, and pats the space besides his.

There is no relaxation in either of them, though, Luo Binghe expects, for very different reasons. From this close, he can smell his soap on Shen Yuan’s skin. He can hear the faster-than-average rhythm of his breath. He can feel the warmth of his body.

But he can’t reach for it.

He keeps his antsy hands to himself, instead very deliberately turning off the lights. “Good night, Laoshi. Please rest well.” He needs it.

He doesn’t expect an answer, but the soft “Good night, Binghe,” he gets in response ensures that when he finally falls asleep, he does so with a smile on his face.

[daisukissed]

the better one | m.osamu

❧ pairing: miya osamu x gn!reader, slight miya atsumu x reader

❧ synopsis:

miya osamu was never the one to compare himself to his twin brother. he doesn't care if his brother gets more attention, is better at volleyball or is preferred over himself but as he watches you with your arms slung against atsumu's shoulders, mouth kissing him passionately like he's some sort of drug, he wishes this once, just this once, that he could be the better one.

❧ genre: angst, mild fluff

❧ warnings: none

❧ word count: 3.7k

Ding dong.

The door bell chimes through the secured walls of the Miya household, alerting everyone present in the vicinity.

Or just one, Miya Osamu.

The tall athlete stops at whatever he was doing, turning to wash his dirty hands instead in response to the door bell, feeling the cold water run against his skin.

Ding dong.

Another ring sounds off and the boy reacts quicker. He dries his hands off with his clothes, rushing his way to the front door. Twisting the metal doorknob, the wooden door opens it's way to the outside world.

You jump at the sight of the gray haired boy, a dark blue apron cladding his muscular build. It somehow suits him, you think.

"Um, is Atsumu here?"

The high school male observes your demeanor, recognizing you as his twin brother's girlfriend. He remembers Atsumu introducing you to him very briefly at school, the class bell interrupting the two of you before you could add anything else other than your name. He didn't really have the time to garner an opinion on you due to that.

Finally taking a good look at your face, he realizes that you're an exact image of his brother's type. It's no wonder how you managed to capture the condescending blonde's heart.

"Tsumu's buying groceries right now, he'll be back soon. Come on in." Osamu recalls, his muscular back already turned back into the house.

You follow his footsteps, taking in the nooks and crannies of the room. The softwood wall matches perfectly with the white ceramic floor, the furnitures within the area complimenting the both of them as well. It isn't the most lavish house nor the most special one but it's certainly the coziest one you've been to.

Taking a seat on the white couch in the living room, your eyes lock on the high school boy a few meters beside you, occupying himself in the kitchen where you can see the countless utensils lying around, a few rice grains sticking here and there.

"Ah! Are those the new samples you're working on?"

Osamu stiffens slightly at your sudden question, turning his head to face the numerous rice balls you were talking about.

"Yeah, I guess you heard from Tsumu?"

Giving him a sheepish smile and a slight nod from your head, you continue on your conversation with the light haired male.

"That's right..." You stop, contemplating whether or not you should say the next few words.

"He wasn't quiet happy with your decision, after all."

Osamu can't help but scoff lightly as a corner of his mouth twitches up in disdain, the glass plate that he was previously washing completely ignored, water gliding down the surface and to the drain.

"Sure he wasn't. Nobody was."

Osamu hates the fact that he could feel his own chest tightening, his words littered with a hint of stubbornness and... hurt?

Hurt. That's what he felt when his brother ridiculed his decision, when his parents gave him doubtful looks about his plans, when even his fangirls begged him to keep doing volleyball. It was as if the whole world was against him pursuing his passionー

"Well, I personally think that you made a great choice."

The whole world except you.

"Oi Tsumu, give these a taste!"

The young boy yells from a distance, making his way to the room beside his, a plate of filling rice balls in one hand and a glass of water in the other.

He doesn't know what changed or how it happened but his twin have been unusually supportive of his passion as of late, agreeing to support and help however he can.

Not taking any of his rare kindness for granted, Osamu constantly feeds his brother unhealthy amount of rice balls each day, asking for his thoughts and opinions.

Today was no exception.

Pushing the door handle with his elbow, he opens the door with a push of his body, careful not to spill the water nor the food he's holding.

Grey eyes immediately widens slightly as they are met with an unexpected visitor, their legs tangled up with another's as they try to wriggle their way out of the other boy's grasp.

Your cheerful laughter cuts short as you notice the young male in front of you. Putting the tickle war that happened just moments before to a stop, you give Atsumu who is hovering you a push, causing him to notice the said man as well.

"Sorry for disturbing, I'll-"

"Don't fret it, are those for us?" You give out a kind smile, waving your hands to shake off the boy's apology.

Osamu nods his head in uncertainty, eyes glancing towards his brother only to see a displeased look befalling him, probably from the disturbance of he and his girlfriend's time together. An uncomfortable feeling settle into his chest, making him regret his decision of barging into the room even more.

"I'm not eating any, I've been eating those for three days straight now."

Standing up from the sturdy bed you've been sitting on, you take the ball of rice made by the boy, one for yourself and one for your sulking boyfriend.

"Now, now, one more can't hurt." You say cheerfully, practically shoving the dish to the boy's face. Atsumu frowns to which you reply with what looks like an innocent smile, prompting the blonde to sigh in defeat and snatch the rice ball from your hand.

Seeing him take a huge bite of the triangular rice, you smirk smugly before giving yourself a mouthful bite as well.

Osamu stands still awkwardly as he watches the two of you dive into the meal, observing any slight change in expression on your face.

"This is the best you've made so far." Atsumu states, taking more and more bites despite his earlier reluctance.

You bob your head in agreement, eyes widening in shock at how well all the flavors mesh together.

"Itsch rweally gud!" You try to exclaim, words slightly muffled due to the amount of food occupying your mouth.

The small amount of nervousness in his body disappears completely when he's met with nothing but positive remarks, pride slowly welling up in exchange.

Seeing the elated look and chubby cheeks from your face, Osamu can't help but feel his own mouth curling into a soft smile.

You find yourself visiting the two siblings much more often now.

What used to be just the two of you became three, Osamu appearing more and more frequently in between the dates you and your boyfriend shared.

Silent movie nights turns into popcorn fights and unprofessional reviews, dinner with takeouts into massive taste tests of various riceballs.

It's a change that you nor Atsumu minds, honestly. He's glad that he could spend his time with two of his most favourite people while you're just happy to gain a new friend.

Ringing the melodious doorbell you've heard more and more of lately, you patiently wait for the recipient from the other side, swinging your feet back and forth as you stare at the white painted door.

It only takes a couple of seconds before a tall figure came to view, thick eyebrows lowered into a quizzical frown.

Osamu was for sure not expecting you to be at the front of his doorsteps when he opened the door, smiling at him innocently like you're supposed to be here.

It would've been okay if things were under different conditions.

If his twin, Miya Atsumu was actually home. Did you not know? Did he not tell you? He really couldn't believe that his brother would leave you without informing you about the youth camp. Just how ignorant could he be?

"Tsumu's not home."

"I know that?" You give him a matter-of-fact look, tilting your head in confusion.

More questions fill the boy's mind as he wonders about the reason of your visit. You never really came unless you were accompanied by your boyfriend so what was your point in coming when he's away? It couldn't be for his parents, you and Tsumu weren't at that level yet and of course, it couldn't be for him, you guys never really talked unless it was with the presence of his brother (much to his disappoinment). The two of you settle with friendly smiles and subtle waves instead whenever you passed by each other at school.

Choosing to squeeze pass the still boy instead of waiting for him to let you in, you invite yourself into the spacious house, the white walls you've grown familiar with welcoming you warmly.

"Can a person not spend time with a dear friend without their boyfriend?" You ask rhetorically, turning back to give your gray haired buddy an enticing smile as you raise the bag of store-bought rice balls in your hand.

If Osamu had known that letting you in that day would result to the constant pain eating at his chest, aching at every sight of you, he would've prevented you at all cost.

The unspoken boundary between you and Osamu was crossed the moment you spent your entire day in the boy's presence. The two of you were no longer threading the thin line between friendly gestures and close actions, already passing beyond that awkward phase.

Within the few days that the blonde was away, you and Osamu had already shared numerous inside jokes (none of them explained to Atsumu for entertainment purposes), countless shitty rom-coms (you complained about his tastes, to which he argued that you just don't understand the art behind itー as if there were any in overused clichés and sappy kisses) and of course, you couldn't forget the various spontaneous outings (the competitive arcade games, the midnight car rides, the trashy cooking competitions)

His days were slowly filled with you, providing him with a giddy and blissful feeling that he hadn't felt in so long. Even when his twin brother had finally arrived home, the two of you continued to spend your time together, no matter if the yellow-haired was present or absent.

It almost made him forget that you already have your heart set on his brother. Almost.

"Oh, so ya can't make it?"

"Yeah, Tsumu just invited me out. I'm really sorry. I'll make it up to you next time, promise!"

Ahー of course, relationships come first after all. It's no surprise that you would choose to spend your time with your boyfriend in preference to your best friend. Anybody would do the same.

"Hm, sure. Have fun." Osamu mumbles, not being able to prevent a twinge of his bitterness seep out from his words as he ends the call, the monotonous beep being the last thing he hears.

Turning back from where he was heading to, the silver haired male walks down the lone and empty street back home, only the sound of faraway children accompanying his journey.

He feels like shit. Like there's someone kicking dirt into his heart, staining it with this ominous emotion that he wishes he could scrub off. It doesn't help the fact that the sun's setting down either, bringing down the mood even more as it bids goodbye to the land it shone for, the once warmly lit place diminishing into a gloomy abyss.

He shouldn't feel so disturbed. So irked, so agitated, so upset. That would just prove the insatiable feeling buried deep inside his chest, hiding in denial all this time. The feeling that eats away his skin, leaving him bare with nothing but his pride and ego to defend with. The so-called feeling named jealousy.

And Osamu is a person with dignity before a person that is jealous.

There is no way that he harbors any sort of feelings towards you that are more than platonic, that his heart skips a beat whenever you scoot closer and soars at the sound of your mellifluous laugh, or that he finds himself thinking of you in every corner of his house, like the spot you always sit on the living room couch and the kitchen mug you always favor more than others. He isn't supposed to find solace in the way you ramble non-stop about another series you've grown fond of, feeling himself relax at the soft lull of your voice, neither is he supposed to feel an evergrowing tenderness in his being at the sight of your face, always beaming in contentment, eyes so bright that it brings shame to the sun, like there's nothing wrong in this ruinous world. He can't.

Not when his brother is head over heels for you.

You've been spending less and less time with Osamu these past few days. He's always either holed up in his room, the kitchen or even worse, not even in the house at all, using the same repeated excuses that you've heard more than you could count.

"Samu's not joining again?" You inquire, plopping on the cushioned seat beside your boyfriend as he scrolls through a collection of movies displayed on the TV.

"Yeah, said he was goin' to study or something." Answered the blonde, his muscular build shuffling closer to you and a lean arm making its way around your shoulders.

"Study?" That's not right. Osamu would rather take a scooter to an ankle than actually study.

"I know, I was surprised too." The athlete responds in a tone of agreement. His fingers pause upon a poster of what seems to be a grotesque movie, the image of a bloody mask staring at you menacingly. Shifting his line of vision towards you, he asks for confirmation on his movie of choice and despite having mixed feelings about it, you agree. How could you not when he's looking at you like a child begging for ice cream?

The film starts off tense, the atmosphere heavy and surroundings gloomy. Fifteen minutes in and you're already on the edge of your seat, hands gripping at the strong boy's arm in fear of a sudden jumpscare. You take a glance at your boyfriend, observing any signs of distress or terror and sure enough, there were none. You're not even surprised at this point, Atsumu's a maniac for the thrill and pumps of adrenaline provided, you're not.

Just like Osamu.

You sincerely wished that he was present in today's marathon, wanting someone to share your hatred for horror movies with. With your constant anti-horror buddy being gone, you realized the huge role he plays in your overall experience. The continuous jokes he makes whenever the character does something stupid, the collection of curses spewing from his mouth that accompanies your obnoxious scream when something horrific suddenly pops out. Despite being scared shitless himself, you never actually see him reject any of your spoiled requests. He would always run you down on what happened when you're too scared to watch, Atsumu being too focused to do it himself. His explanations were confusing and all over the place (probably due to the fact that he himself watched through the slits between his fingers) but he gets the job done. Not to mention the times you would beg him to accompany you to the restroom, trembling arms linked together as you travel down the dark corridor leading to it (the one Atsumu insists on keeping the lights off, something about maintaining the mood), leaving him all alone once you got in.

It's those little stuffs that gets you feeling extremely grateful for your collected friend and when a bright idea suddenly shots into your mind, lighting up a lightbulb over your head. You push yourself off the couch, immediately scampering towards the simple and neat kitchen, switching on the lights by the counter.

Atsumu, who got disturbed at the sudden brightness and sounds of metal clanking, pauses the motion picture in action, giving you a bemused look.

"What are you doing?" He asks, watching you prep a variety of ingredients and condiments with raised eyebrows.

"Making riceballs for Samu! His brain's probably fried by now and is in major need for sodium." You explain, scooping a hefty amount of rice into a large bowl and salting it generously after.

The tall athlete smiles defeatedly at your thoughtfulness. He was almost frustrated, honestly but he knows better than to be jealous at your kindness towards his careless sibling. Stepping into the kitchen, he turns on the faucet by the sink, roaming his hands through the rush of cold water.

"Need any help?"

Osamu lets out a frustrated groan, laying his head on the cold hard table in hopelessness, folded arms serving as a cushion to lessen the pain and discomfort. His head's aching from all the numbers and letters he forced himself to absorb, mind too tired to comprehend anything anymore.

But it's better this way, anything's better than the constant thought of you; the slightly indecent snorts mixed with the melodious ring of your laughter, the soft gaze you occasionally give out, the one where you could feel the admiration just by looking at it, your eyes brimming with nothing but warmth and love. It's a shame that none of those belongs to him and he knows that it never ever will be. You see him as nothing more than a friend, your boyfriend's brother. Osamu himself acknowledged this already, even way before the two of you got close.

That doesn't mean it hurts any less though.

He wants to stop. Stop feeling so infuriated and defeated. So desperate. So pathetic. He'd do anything to remain rational and unbothered at your presence, to not have butterflies swarming inside his stomach and flowers blooming inside his heart. He needs to. Osamu will not let a single chance in having these emotions linger any longer. He'll get rid of the venomous bud you planted so secretly yet fondly, erasing it before it blooms into something more acidic; something that will burn through his skin, leaving him vulnerable with nothing but leftover bones.

And what better way to do that than avoidance?

It started off small, like cancelling your usual plans with him, making up blatant excuses to cover up his antics. Then, it was not joining you and Atsumu's table at lunch, choosing other group of friends to eat with. Finally, he stopped seeing you altogether, avoiding any sort of situations or places that could potentially harbor your presence. He was doing so well. Oh, so well.

Until a knock sounded off from his door, intruding his fatigued thoughts.

Until your figure came in moments later, bringing with you a savory and sweet smell, overfilling the room in mere seconds.

And of course, until you set the massive ball of rice on top of his table, its white grains and hot steam staring at him along with that lovable smile of yours.

You really just can't give him a break, can't you?

Snacks of all kinds and video games of different genres are splayed messily on the carpeted floor of Osamu's room.

You let a yawn escape effortlessly, bringing up a hand to cover your indecency while the other remains the hold on your black controller, taking a slight break on attacking the group of enemies in front of you before continuing to do so again.

"You really think we can finish this run by tonight?" You ask in a weary tone, hours of gameplay and shouting beginning to take effect on your body.

"Hm. Probably not." The boy to your left replies casually, hitting the pause button when he sees the look of exhaustion riding on your face, eyes softening at the sight.

You crash into the bed behind you, back leant backwards and arms stretching to its maximum height before falling down feebly. A sigh breaks free from your lips, hinting your utmost disappointment as you position your head to lay against the bed more comfortably, eyes closing when you found a good spot.

"All that work for nothing then."

The ash haired boy watches you rest in complete silence, taking in the littlest bits of details. As the blue light from the television's screen illuminates your skin perfectly, highlighting your features in his dark room, long lashes glistening like the stars adorning the night sky, he wonders, if you yourself, is a star as well.

And just like stars, you're impossible to reach.

Miya Osamu was never the one to compare himself with his twin brother. He doesn't care if his brother gets more attention or has more fans than him. Doesn't care if his brother's better at volleyball and is personally more sought out than him. Doesn't care if his brother's labelled as the better twin in general, him dulling in comparison.

But as he watched you slip your soft hand in between the other boy's calloused one, fingers intertwined and cheeks a rosy pink.

As you wrapped yourself against the boy's built body, leaning in until no space is shared between the two of you, providing a warmth that he could only imagine.

As your arms slung against Atsumu's shoulders, standing on the tip of your toes as you kiss him passionately like he's some kind of drug.

He wishes this once, just this once, that he could be the better one.

A head falls to Osamu's shoulder and he visibly stiffens a bit. Glancing sideways, the view of you in deep slumber against his body brings heat to his cheeks. He can hear his heart palpitating against his chest, the beat of it signifying his utter adoration towards your entire being.

He wants this moment to stay forever. The feeling of your cheeks pressed against his shoulder blades, the warmth radiating from your proximity, your soft snores accompanied by the sound of his running air conditioner. It was as if the two of you were the only ones left in this world, in his dimly lit room with no disturbance nor interference apart from the sound of faraway cars speeding the lonely city.

He wants it so bad.

Yet he knows that if he stays for even another second, he'll never let you go.

And he would rather go through this suffocating feeling a thousand times than to see the hurt on your face when you and Atsumu argues.

So ignoring the tightness in his chest, he picks you up in the most gentle way possible, carrying you to the athlete's room beside his and leaving with an evermore ache in his heart.

[let-me-write-shit]

Somebody To You: 21

Friendly reminder to please Like and/or Reblog. It helps more than you think! :)

WARNING: Smut!!!! (****** before and after so you can skip)

Word Count: 3,928  

Click Here For Previous Chapter & Other Completed Stories

PLEASE let me know what you think

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

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE:

They laid in silence for a while, just staring at each other. Neither of them knew what to say. They just needed time to process what was happening and their emotions. Harry’s eyes flickered down to her hands that rested on her hip just above her rose tattoo. He hesitated before reaching out, grabbing her hand and pulling it closer to his chest. Their fingers twirled together for a moment before he laced his fingers through hers, feeling the heat of her palm on his as he hugged her hand to his chest. He could lay here looking at her face forever. 

His eyes searched her face, wondering what she was thinking. Was she happy? She hadn’t even attempted to retract her hand, so that was a good sign. He noticed a tug at her lip which turned into a lopsided smile and small giggles escaped her mouth which turned into hushed laughter as she dug her face into his chest.

Harry grinned, looking down at her, “You know, laughing isn’t the best thing to hear after sex.”

She settled, pulling away, still smiling, “It’s not that. It’s just…” she shook her head, looking up at him, “I never thought I’d be in this situation with you.”

“So you’re not disappointed?” he half-joked.

She rolled her eyes, smiling and pulling her hand back, “Tremendously disappointed. You made me finish first? Who does that?”

He laughed, staring down at her and letting the silence creep in again. Harry brushed a piece of hair that was partially covering her eye, tucking it behind her ear and let his thumb graze her cheek before bending in and placing a soft kiss on her forehead. He knew she couldn’t stay here all night, but he didn’t want her to leave. He was afraid of what would happen if she did. What would happen once the moment was over and they were left alone with nothing but their thoughts? Would she regret this? Would they not be able to look at each other the same? How would their friendship be affected?

These feelings and worries were something he’d typically confide in Zoey about. But he couldn’t do that this time. There were things he couldn’t talk to her about, now, because it dealt with her. And the list of things he couldn’t talk to her about would only grow if things got more serious between them. Surely that would put a strain on things. But seeing how peaceful and comfortable she looked laying in bed with him made him want to take the risk. Would it be worth it? The risk of losing your soulmate?

The loud echoing of footsteps bounding up the stairs made both of their eyes widen and they sat up, staring at the locked door. They could hear giggling and hushed voices getting closer. More voices than expected could be heard and they looked at each other, knowingly. Nancy and Andy must have found what they were looking for at the club. 

Once the voices were no longer audible, Zoey stood up, collected her clothes. “I should get back to my room,” she said, pulling them back on.

Harry frowned, pulling his boxer briefs on and walking over to her. She smiled, pressing her lips to his once more and whispering, “Night,” before poking her head out of the door and tiptoeing, leaving Harry without a chance for rebuttal.

Harry stared at the door for a moment, a smile creeping onto his face and elation taking over him. He danced dramatically in place before flinging himself onto his bed, beaming. At that moment he ignored all the worries and what-ifs. He was happy.

By the time morning rolled around, Zoey was worried about how Harry would act, stressed that he would have regretted it. She barely got any sleep last night. She spent hours thinking. As scared as she was, Harry was the only person that made her feel something. She couldn’t remember another time where she felt whole before him. Yes, she had Jess, but there was always a piece of her that felt like it was missing. It wasn’t until she met Harry that it changed. She was terrified he didn’t feel the same. 

After her shower, Zoey decided to leave her hair down and hesitantly walked into the kitchen where everyone but Nancy was, hanging out and making breakfast. She saw the back of Harry’s head standing at the coffee maker asking everyone if they wanted coffee.

“See, what I’m not going to let you do is ruin my coffee like you did yesterday. Stick with your tea, I’ll make my own coffee,” Andy huffed from the kitchen island, causing everyone to laugh. 

With a smile, Harry turned and caught eyes with Zoey. His eyes flickered, and his smile grew. In an attempt to hide it, he forced his smile into a grin and asked, “coffee?”

Zoey blushed, nodding a yes. Relief washed over her realizing that he didn’t seem regretful at all. Minutes later Nancy walked in, hair disheveled and looking particularly tired. Andy laughed at the sight, “Have fun?” he winked.

She grumbled, taking the coffee that was meant for Zoey out of Harry’s hand and taking a sip, “Italian men are on another level.”

Andy nodded, “You’re telling me.”

“So you did bring someone back,” Harry smirked, making another cup, “I thought I heard extra footsteps. When did they leave?”

“Right after,” Nancy laughed, looking over Aurora’s shoulder as she cooked on the stove.

Andy cackled, sitting up straighter, joking, “Thanks for the fuck, here’s your stuff. We don’t need to exchange numbers.”

Everyone laughed and Nancy turned to look at both Katie, who was buttering toast, and Zoey, who finally got her coffee from Harry. He stood next to Katie who was now helping her plate the toast.

“How was the date last night?” Nancy asked.

Katie beamed, “So good. I’ve been texting Gio since they dropped us off.”

“Oooh, does that mean you got a kiss?” Nancy asked.

Katie blushed, nodding, “Yeah, we both did.”

Harry’s head snapped up, eyeing Zoey, and her body tensed, realizing she never told Harry about the kiss. Shit, she thought, seeing the shock and disappointment in his eyes. While the attention was on Katie as she continued gushing about their date, Zoey sunk back and snuck out of the kitchen towards the library trying to get a second of silence to think. Would he be pissed? Had she screwed everything up?

The creak of the door startled her and she turned to see an annoyed Harry, “You kissed Marco?” he repeated.

Zoey stepped closer, hands up in defense, stammering, “I-You were supposed to be at the club.”

“So you kissed him?”

“Harry, you told me you just wanted to be friends. He asked to kiss me. I said okay. It was just a kiss.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Her eyebrows furrowed and her mouth opened, incredulous, “I was a little preoccupied with your dick in my mouth.” His eyes widened and he closed the library door, not wanting anyone to hear their conversation and she continued, “Would it have made a difference? You wouldn’t have fucked me if you knew I slept with Marco?”

He sighed, walking back over to her, “No, I’m just...fuck. I just would have rather known than me surprised about it, that’s all.”

Her expression softened and she narrowed her eyes at him, a smirk forming, “Are you jealous, H?”

His lips twitched and he blushed, “Shut up.”

She laughed and teased, “You’re jealous!”

“Shut up!” he repeated, folding his arms.

“Make me.”

With one quick move, Harry grabbed the back of her neck, pulling her to him so that their bodies pressed together, attaching his lips to hers. He felt her gasp and relax in his arms, her soft lips practically melting on his. How did she do it? How did she make the room spin whenever she touched him? He almost forgot that they were just friends. He almost forgot that the others were only a few feet away, unaware of what was going on. 

They pulled away, smiling at each other and she took a breath, taken aback, “If you keep kissing me like that, you’re going to get us both in trouble.”

“A little trouble never hurt anyone,” he smirked.

She snorted, “Careful. Before they find out,” she looked down at him before slipping out of the room.

He looked down at himself noticing a peek forming in his sweats from the semi-hard on that had formed. Grinning, he tucked himself into his waistband and went back out just in time to see everyone taking dishes and food out to the terrace table. No one had seemed to notice Harry and Zoey’s glances or smirks. At least no one said anything about it. They just ate breakfast, talking about how sad they were to be leaving in two days.

“I can’t believe tomorrow is our last full day here. What’s the plan for today?” Aurora asked.

“Well, I promised Zoey a shopping spree, so I think we’ll do that today,” Harry said, looking at Zoey.

She knew that was just his excuse to spend some alone time with her, but she wasn’t complaining. She nodded in agreement, “I wanted to go to Trastevere.”

“I’m not opposed to the beach,” Nancy said, taking a bite of food.

“I wanted to meet up with Gio at some point today. Maybe he can meet us there?” Katie asked. 

They finished up eating and Zoey got changed into an orange, short, strappy, floral dress with ruching on the arms and hem. She left her hair down, knowing how much Harry liked it, and put on a light makeup look, meeting Harry in the living room who sat on the couch with Aurora and Nancy.

His eyes sparkled when he saw her and he grinned, standing, “Ready?”

“Have fun!” Nancy called after them.

Zoey could have sworn she noticed a hint of a smirk on Rory’s face, but she shook it off, following Harry to the front door. He led her to his classic car rental, opening the door for her and rounding to his sides. The windows were extra tinted which was probably smart because as soon as Harry closed his door, he leaned over the middle console and pulled her face closer to his, lightly kissing her before sitting back in his seat.

“What was that?” she giggled, pulling on the seatbelt.

“I had to. You looked too beautiful.”

She blushed while he started up the car and as they drove down the driveway, he reached across and intertwined his fingers in hers. She couldn’t believe how quickly things had changed in a matter of hours. And so far, it wasn’t nearly as terrifying as she thought it’d be. 

They made sure to keep the physical contact to a minimum while out in public in case he started to get recognized, which, sure enough, was the case within a matter of two hours when they came out of a little candle boutique and were confronted by a boy and a girl around their age. The two beautiful Italians sheepishly came up, phones in hands, asking for a picture. 

“Sure, of course,” Harry nodded.

Zoey stepped to the side, bags in hand, smiling while he took a picture with each of them, briefly chatting about their day. She noticed onlookers realizing who it was and taking their phones out to snap pictures of him from a distance. Harry thanked them and wished them a good rest of their day, continuing down the cobblestone walkways with Zoey, ignoring the obvious row of people who had their phones out, taking pictures of him as he passed.

“It’s weird being in public with you,” Zoey hushed, trying her best to ignore the phones.

“Good or bad?”

She shrugged, “Neither. Just weird. I keep forgetting you’re famous.”

He looked down, smiling, “Good.”

The two of them grabbed a quick bite to eat for late lunch and decided to head back to the villa by 3 PM. No one was there. Figuring that they were all still at the beach, the two changed into their bathing suits and decided to take a swim in the pool. They threw their towels onto the chair and before Zoey could even dip her toe into the water, Harry ran and tackled her in, their bodies smacking against the cold, still, water, making a huge splash and tidal waves.

Zoey came up for air, standing on her tippy toes and sputtering, wiping the water from her eyes, “Asshole!”

He laughed, swimming up beside her, “Come here,” he beckoned, pulling her close to him, wrapping her legs around his waist.

Zoey wrapped her arms around his shoulders, looking down at him. Water droplets perched on his eyelashes and scattered around his chest. His lips looked glossy and his breath smelt minty from the gum he had just been chewing. Wet strands of his hair had fallen in front of his face and she slicked it back to get a better look at his green eyes. There it was again; that pull. She didn’t fight it this time. She bent down, shutting her eyes as her lips connected with his. The spark. The spark she had always heard about but never felt except when she and Harry kissed. The spark that made her sink into him and cause butterflies to erupt into a frenzied dance in her stomach. 

Harry deepened the kiss by running his tongue along her lips and she parted them, allowing him entrance. They both doop a deeper breath, kissing more fiercely. He carried her over towards the edge of the pool, pressing her back into the wall. She could feel him between her legs getting harder through his bathing suit as their hands began to roam wildly. She wanted him - needed him. 

Her hands trailed down to the waistband of his swim trunks and before she could slip her hand in, a faint clatter could be heard towards the house. They quickly pulled apart, lips red raw and flustered, just in time to see Aurora and Nancy slipping out the back door, tan glistening from their day at the beach.

“Oh, hey guys!” Nancy waved, “Mind if we join you? Want to rinse the sand off.”

“Y-yeah, sure,” Zoey stammered, noticing Harry’s back turn to them to hide his erection in his waistband again. She couldn’t help but chuckle, turning her attention back to her roommates, “How was the beach?”

The night carried on without suspicion. Zoey thought they were doing a pretty good job of acting like nothing was going on. Katie and Andy made dinner for everyone, they all stayed up late talking by the bonfire. Harry purposefully didn’t even sit next to Zoey so that he didn’t raise suspicion. Though that didn’t stop the two from discreetly eyeing each other and stealing kisses when given the chance. 

She had to admit, the sneaking around made it even more fun. As much as she wanted to tell someone, she still wasn’t sure exactly what was going on and she was enjoying having this a secret, for now, afraid that once it was out there, things would change. 

Katie had already gone to bed or at least went to her room to text Gio in private, and all of the careful winks and smirks from Harry was taking every bit of strength for Zoey to not pounce on him across the fire. 

Zoey exaggerated a yawn and announced, “I’m going to head to bed. Goodnight, guys!” 

“Goodnight,” everyone called back.

She hid a final wide-eyed knowing look at Harry before continuing inside and to her room, stripping her clothes down to her bra and underwear, nervously waiting. She scanned the room, trying to decide where the sexiest place to wait was. In her bed? By the door? Sitting? Standing? There wasn’t enough time to decide. Seconds later there was a small knock on the door and Harry quickly slipped in, closing it behind him and smirking to see her already half undressed.

“Can’t get enough of me, can you?” he joked, peeling his shirt off to reveal his toned, tanned body.

Definitely not, she thought, leaping at him and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. She could feel him smile into the kiss, lifting her off of the floor and wrapping her legs around his waist. It was effortless but felt more passionate than when Brett did it. She tightening her legs around him as his hands slid up her back, unclasping her bra and sliding it off of her. He peeled his face from hers and slid her up his body even more so that he could get a better look at her round breasts, taking one nipple into his mouth while his hand massaged the other. She watched, mouth agape, feeling the wet start to drip into her panties.

A muffled eruption of laughter could be heard through her bedroom window from her friends just below her room on the terrace and Harry glanced over, craning his neck to see the tops of his friends' heads barely visible. Zoey shimmied out of his grip and towards the window, pulling the curtain shut before walking back up to him.

“Come take a shower with me,” she said, pulling his arm and leading him towards the ensuite. 

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

She turned all of the shower knobs, sending a stream of water from two shower heads and the rainfall feature to the stone shower floor, warming up. She stripped out of her thong and Harry pulled off his pants, his erection in full view now. She bit her lip at the sight and took him by the cock, gently leading him into the shower.

The warm water cascaded down their bodies, making her grip on him easier as she pumped him. Their lips were more slippery as they kissed. Occasionally they would break apart, panting, to get a look at each other. The water made the curves and arches of her body glisten, somehow making her even more beautiful. All he wanted to do was run his tongue from her toes on up. 

He attached himself onto her neck, lightly biting at the base. He kept trailing down to her nipples. He bent down, even more, kneeling and sucking on her navel. The smooth stones from the shower floor felt like gravel underneath his kneecaps, but he didn’t care. He lifted one of her legs onto his shoulder, kissing her rose tattoo before burying his face in her cunt, ravenous for a taste of her again. He heard her soft gasps echo in the shower and felt the water from the shower collecting by his nose making it harder to breathe, but he ignored it. He would drown before he was forced to stop, for all he cared. 

His hands gripped onto her waist and her hands slid down to meet his, intertwining their fingers as he continued to suck on her juices. Her body twitched with pleasure and he breathed heavily into her. He was throbbing. He needed to be inside of her. 

He let her leg down from his shoulder and stood up, his cock pushing into the crease of her legs. She licked his lips and muttered, “fuck me,” into his mouth. The sudden realization that he didn’t have a condom with him hit and his eyes instinctively roamed around the room. She seemed to realize, too, hesitated, and said, “Pull out.”

He nodded, kissing her before spinning her around and pushing her chest against the wall, her ‘bite’ tattoo now visible. He had to do it. How could he not? He bent down, once more, wrapping his mouth around her tattoo and biting down, just hard enough to leave an impression, his hand sliding down her crack and feeling for the plump, warm entrance of her cunt, sliding two fingers in to make sure she was ready for him. Her whimpering seemed proof enough, so he stood up, taking hold of his cock, and guiding it in, making her gasp.

Harry watched as she pushed her face into the shower wall, eyes tightly closed and mouth ajar. Even dripping wet with hair stuck to hair stuck to her cheek, he had never seen a more beautiful person. He took both of her arms, folding them behind her back and using them as leverage to thrust himself harder into her. She moaned louder and he gritted his teeth, sure he was going to finish soon. 

“Ha-rry,” she moaned, legs trembling. She had finished.

He spun her around, lifting one of her legs and forcing himself inside of her again, grunting. His free hand slid up her wet body and took hold of her neck, forcing her to look up at him. He could feel chills run down his spine as their eyes locked, unblinking, the burning desire ravenous in both of them. He let out a grunt, pushing himself away from her and pressing his cock to his stomach, white spunk exploding from his tip, washing away from the water. When it was all out, he placed another firm kiss on her lips before the two of them finished washing up, gently bathing each other.

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

They towel-dried and laid in Zoey’s bed in silence, enjoying the moment. He listened to her breathing and the sound of his heart beating pounded in his ears. Why was this feeling so intense with her? What made her so much different than the rest? What made it easier to be with her compared to someone else? He couldn’t understand it. He couldn’t wrap his head around it.

Her head shifted up to look into his eyes and she hesitated, mouth opening and closing in thought before she decided to speak. “What happens after we leave?” she asked.

“After we leave?” he repeated.

She nodded, “Yeah. When we leave Italy. When we go home. What happens?”

His heart sank to his stomach and a lump formed in his throat. He didn’t know. Honestly. As much as he wanted to be with her, he had no clue if he could. London was his home, not hers. He’d been away on tour for so long, he couldn’t leave his friends and family in England, again. Besides, he had to get back and start working on a new album soon. Zoey lived a relatively normal life. Worked a relatively normal 40 hour work week with vacation time and benefits. It’s not like she could pick up and fly to him whenever she wanted. 

Could she even handle his lifestyle? Even she admitted to forgetting that he was famous when fans came up to them on the street. That wasn’t even a fraction of what she could expect daily of life with a celebrity. Did he want to put her through that? Having a fling with someone is one thing, but a relationship was something completely different. It wasn't something he took lightly.  There were always serious repercussions when it came to dating someone famous and he was afraid of what that might mean.

He didn’t have an answer for her. Instead, he pulled her closer to him, placing a kiss on her forehead and resting his chin on the top of her head. Neither of them spoke again. They just laid there in silence once more, letting the question sink into their chest as they fell asleep. What happens when this vacation ends?

KEEP READING

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

Taglist for Somebody To You:

@thurhomish​ , @stilljosiegrossie​ , @odetostep​ , @apples2019​ , @stylesmioamore​ , @inyourhaven​

[2nerd4this]

Cathy & Catalina fluff prompts you say? Just off the top of my head- Cathy coming home from something officially good but also intense (like her first book signing) and everyone keeps saying how fun it must have been and how lucky she is- except she's also really tired and overwhelmed and exhausted. She feels like admitting it would look ungrateful though so she tries to stay positive until she ends up breaking over some stupid small thing. Luckily Lina picks up the pieces and takes care of her.

Oooh, this took forever, but I had a lot of fun, thank you for the prompt! It ended up being more hurt/comfort than fluff, but it still worked. Thank you so much!

It had been a long day.

That wasn’t to say it hadn’t been a good day. No- it was great, in most respects, at least.

Publishing a book without having to fight for recognition because of her gender had been a dream of Cathy’s since reincarnation, and she still wasn’t quite able to wrap her mind around the fact that people loved her book so much that they wanted her to sign it. Honestly, it’s insane and amazing. The concept that she wrote words from her brain onto paper and suddenly they were in the brains of hundreds of people around the world was mind-blowing.

But still- her first book signing was much more exhausting than she had expected. She had assured the others that she didn’t need them to tag along, that she could manage on her own. Catalina had almost insisted but had eventually agreed to remain back in order to avoid being patronizing. The others recognized her assurances as a wish to prove herself and stepped back without much argument.

Now, though, as she walked home from the bus stop alone, Catherine Parr almost wished she had brought at least one other Queen with. 

The signing itself had been good, she supposed. It was well organized and the fans were amazing and her agent was completely in control. She didn’t have to do anything except sit and smile and talk and sign. 

Still, it was a lot. She was never great with crowds, and even worse when she was the center of attention. There were lots of questions about her next book, which had been causing her major grief, and about halfway through, she was suddenly hit with the realization that the number of fans she had was equal to the number of people she could disappoint with this next book, or the lack of it.

Even after it had all been over, the bus was late and she was stuck in the rain for almost an hour. Then the bus had been super crowded and she was stuffed between a mother and her crying toddler and a creepy middle-aged man who wouldn’t stop peering down at her.

Needless to say, Cathy was looking forward to retreating into her own room and decompressing and... perhaps having a nice little cry session.

Stumbling up the front steps, slouched and pulling the jacket tighter around her body, she fumbled with the knob before managing to pull open the front door.

In the living room, just as expected, were the other Queens, but instead of lounging on the couch or sitting around the table like usual, they were all five standing there, smiling widely in her direction and very clearly expecting something.

“Hi?” Cathy tilted her head awkwardly, chuckling softly as she glanced around. Kitty and Anne both had ridiculous smiles plastered on their faces, and the former was rocking back and forth in clear excitement. Jane looked just as excited but was a little more contained. Anna and Catalina were both smiling as well but were much more subdued than the others. 

For a moment, none of them said anything, still staring at her, eyes wide and smiles bright. Eventually, it was Kitty who burst.

“How’d it go?! Tell us everything!”

Cathy struggled to repress a sigh, instead trying her best to make her smile seem genuine. She really should have seen this coming.

“It was good!”

“Yeah?!” Jane asked, obviously quite pleased with the answer. The other four mirrored her expression, in some way another. Cathy nodded, shifting awkwardly as she tried to take off her jacket and shoes without making it apparent that she was avoiding their gazes.

“Yeah. Yeah, everyone was really nice and- and my agent was great and the venue was very nice and... and yeah,” she trailed off awkwardly, nodding. The others didn't mind.

“That's wonderful!” Jane exclaimed, and it was a small relief to Cathy that she finally broke the stillness in the room in order to walk to the sixth Queen and take her damp jacket. “We didn't want to be creepy, but we were all so excited to hear all about it that Anne watched your phone to see when you'd get home.”

Cathy nodded, forcing out a soft chuckle. “That's really nice of you. I worried you had all just stood there the entire time I was gone and waited.”

Jane and Kitty laughed, both genuine and elated laughs, and Cathy resigned herself to the fact that she was going to have to endure a few more hours of socialization. They had been waiting for her. And they all seemed so excited! It would be incredibly rude to retreat to her room now.

“It must have been so much fun!” Anne skipped across the room, much more chipper than Cathy had seen her in a long while. “I know you're an amazing writer and all, but your own book signing? Insane!”

“Yes, how lucky we are to have been reincarnated in a time like this. Perfect for a writer.” Anna sidled over to the couch and slid down into it, smirking slightly up at Cathy. 

The sixth Queen nodded slowly, stepping farther into the room and glancing around at the others, who were just staring at her.

“Hi?” she repeated, tilting her head in confusion. Jane jumped slightly and tore her gaze away, gesturing back to the kitchen quickly.

“Oh! Right! We thought we’d have a little celebration for you, so we -and by we I mean Lina and I, don't worry- we cooked some foods you like.”

“And a movie night!” Kitty jumped in excitedly. 

“Oh, I-” Cathy stuttered, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt, “I appreciate it, but you all don't need to do this for me, it’s not really a big-”

“Too late!” Anne laughed. “We’re really proud of you, Cathy, so let us pamper you tonight, alright?” The second Queen’s voice became much more sympathetic and she smiled softly.

Now Cathy definitely couldn't say no. No way. ‘We’re proud of you’ was her weak spot! But it would be fine- it shouldn't be that hard to just relax and enjoy time with her family, no matter how long of a day she had had.

“Alright,” Cathy conceded, allowing Anne to lead her to the dining room table. “Thank you, all of you, this is really sweet.”

Her gratitude was met with elated smiles from the others as they sat at the table with her, and despite the positivity that was emanating from all of them, Cathy couldn't help but feel claustrophobic and a sense of dread settling in her chest.

The bright smiles from Kitty and Jane, the jokes from Anna and Anne, and the twinkle in Catalina’s eye felt much more daunting at the moment than Cathy had ever felt before from the other Queens.

It was going to be a long night.

---

Dinner was great, it really was. 

The food was amazing, as always, and the other women had granted her the small mercy of not forcing her into the conversation. They laughed and smiled and joked and Cathy couldn't help but feel off.

But it was fine.

Every so often she would glance up from her food to catch Catalina watching her, head tilted in curiosity. Every time, she would give what she hoped was a reassuring smile, and her godmother would simply nod and turn back to her own plate. 

Eventually, though, she knew this blessed silence on her part would be forced to come to an end.

“So, Cathy-” 

Called it. Everyone had reached the end of their meal and conversation had picked up. When Anna addressed her, though, they had all fallen silent and turned to face Cathy.

“-how’s that second book coming along? You’ve been spending an awful lot of time working on it the past few weeks, so I can’t wait to see what you’ve got.”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Cathy started, setting down her fork and pushing her plate away, “It’s- it’s getting there.” She forced out a weak smile, but apparently that was enough for Anna, who beamed.

“Wonderful! I’m sure your fans are so excited.”

Cathy paused at this, glancing down at her lap in silence. She could still feel the Queen’s gazes fixed on her, but she was just so... tired. 

“Cathy?” Catalina asked, voice suddenly much softer than it had been all night.

“Yeah,” Cathy muttered, trying to keep herself from snapping at her godmother. “Really excited.”

“You don’t sound very convinced,” Anne remarked sarcastically.

“Well, I am!” Cathy’s head shot up and she glared at the second Queen. “I just signed a hundred books for fans, don’t you think they’d want another one?!”

“Cathy, I don’t think that’s what she meant, she was just-” Jane tried.

“Whatever.” Cathy shook her head and rose from the table, grabbing her dishes and making her way to the sink.”

“Cathy, we just wanted to ask about your book. What’s the big-” 

“O-kay,” Catalina interrupted Kitty before she could finish her sentence. “It seems like we are all finished eating, so I’m going to pop some popcorn. Anna, can you get the movie started?”

“Uh, yeah.” Anna nodded, glancing between Cathy and Kitty awkwardly before getting up from the table and walking through the door towards the living room. Catalina stared at the rest of them, who were still looking at her. 

“Go on to the living room, please.”

“Right.” Jane nodded and obeyed, Anne and Kitty following quickly behind. Cathy lingered momentarily, still watching her godmother. Catalina had turned back to the microwave, but she sent the younger Queen a reassuring smile over her shoulder when she noticed she hadn’t left yet. 

Cathy took a deep breath, closed her eyes for a moment, then nodded as well. She disappeared into the living room not long after, grateful that Catalina had stepped in when she did. Now she just had to survive a few more hours, where they would all hopefully be too invested in the movie to talk to her.

No such luck.

The movie (Bandits) had barely begun and Cathy was already fighting to stay awake. In the dim light of the living room, the exhaustion from the day was threatening to take over and she could feel a migraine coming on. The sixth Queen was curled up in an armchair, body buried in a thick blanket and head in her hands.

“Cathy?” Kitty whispered. The youngest Queen was sitting on the floor next to her, leaning up against the couch. Cathy hummed softly and turned her head to see the girl peering up at her. “Are you alright?”

“What?” Cathy rubbed her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, just a headache.”

“Are you sure? You’ve been acting odd all evening.”

“I’m fine, Katherine,” Cathy all but snapped at the girl, then remembered herself and softened her voice. “I’m sorry.”

By this point, the other four had noticed this conversation and Anne had paused the movie.

“What’s wrong, Cath?” Jane asked as she turned in her chair. Cathy scoffed.

“I said I’m fine, guys. Can we just- just finish the movie? Please?”

“Well, it seems like you aren’t really enjoying the movie, and we did it for you, so...” Kitty said, and she didn’t mean to be rude, Cathy knew, but the sixth Queen suddenly grew very quiet.

“Cathy?” Catalina asked when Cathy hadn’t responded. 

“Cathy, I didn’t mean to make you upset, I was just saying that we did this for you and we-”

“I’m sorry, okay?” Cathy yelled suddenly, head snapping up. The others watched as her face morphed immediately from anger to terror and her body curled in on itself.

“Cathy?” 

“Mija, what’s-”

“I want to be left alone, please,” Cathy interrupted as she stood from her chair, blanket sliding to the floor. “I’m sorry.” 

And then she disappeared up the steps, leaving five confused Queens in her wake.

---

How could she be so stupid?

It had been a long day, sure, but that was no excuse to snap at her family and be so ungrateful for everything they did for her. She was supposed to be happy and it wasn’t their fault she wasn’t.

They were probably mad at her, and they had every right to be, but that didn’t mean she was looking forward to the inevitable scolding anymore than normal.

Cathy had shut herself in her room as soon as she got there, locking the door behind her and burying herself under the covers. She had just enough wit left about her to hold back the rising sobs, knowing that soon enough her request would be denied and someone would want to talk to her.

Sure enough, a knock on the door shook her from her thoughts.

“Mija?”

As Cathy extracted herself from the tangle of blankets, she sighed sharply. She was expecting her godmother to be the one who checked on her, but the dread was just the same.

“Cathy?” Catalina questioned again as the woman in question unlocked and opened the door. Cathy gave her a weak smile and stepped aside before shutting the door sharply behind her. The two stood awkwardly in the middle of the room for a moment before Catalina sighed and smoothed her skirt.

“How about we sit down, alright?”

Cathy didn’t respond but obeyed nonetheless, sinking onto her bed. Catalina watched her for a moment before taking a seat in the desk chair. Still, neither said anything for a long while, both more interested by something on their lap.

Finally, it was Cathy who broke the silence, voice somehow both resigned and frantic.

“Look, I’m sorry, alright? I know I shouldn’t have yelled at you and I should have been more appreciative, because I had a good time at the signing, I really did, but I’m just so tired, and I know it’s not an excuse, but I can’t bear to have you think that I was being bitchy for no reason! Please, Lina, I didn’t mean-”

“Whoa, Cathy, slow down,” Catalina interjected as Cathy was struggling to catch a breath in her rant, holding her hands out in a placating manner. “What are you talking about?”

Cathy blinked up at her godmother, then squinted her eyes in suspicion. “I’m- I’m apologizing.”

“Whatever for?”

Cathy had already opened her mouth to answer, but didn’t expect that question at all, so she stopped in her tracks. Catalina looked completely serious, not like she was pulling one over on her, but she never really could tell with her godmother.

“Wha- what for?” Cathy repeated, incredulous. “For- for snapping at Kitty. And all of you. Wait, what are you doing here then?”

“I just wanted to make sure you were alright.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah.”

There was more awkward silence for a few moments, before Catalina sighed and leaned down, trying to catch her goddaughter’s gaze.

“You’re clearly not alright, though, mija. Why were you apologizing?”

“I-” Cathy stuttered, “I just meant that I shouldn’t have been so ungrateful. I know how lucky I am to have the fans I do have, and then I came home and you had all planned it out so nice for me, but I didn’t appreciate it like I should.”

“Mija, we don’t care about that,” Catalina hummed. Cathy nodded, but didn’t look convinced. “You know that, right?”

“I mean- yeah, but having a long day doesn’t give me an excuse to be so selfish and unappreciative.”

“Oh, no, querida.” Catalina sounded genuinely heartbroken, and Cathy was taken aback. “Love, we really just wanted you to have a good day. I’m sorry. I’m sorry we just made it worse.” 

The first Queen regarded her goddaughter closely, but Cathy didn’t raise her gaze from the floor. Catalina sighed, then stood slowly and slid across the room so she was sitting on the bed next to her. Cathy silently slid closer to her godmother and allowed the older woman to wrap an arm around her as she relaxed against her side.

“Did you really think I came up here to yell at you?”

“Yeah,” Cathy chuckled softly, “I thought you would all be mad. You looked so excited when I got home, and I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“Not possible.”

“I know, but... I dunno. I don’t want to disappoint my fans either.”

Catalina paused, then decided to take a risk.

“Care to elaborate?”

Cathy hesitated, then nodded. 

“That second book I’ve been working on? It’s... it’s not going very well. I have an idea, I do! I’ve just hit a wall and I’m struggling. I got lots of questions about a release date today and I honestly don’t think it’ll be for another year or so.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry querida. That sounds very frustrating.”

“Yeah” Cathy nodded tiredly. “There’s just so many people expecting so much of me and I know that I can easily let them down if this one isn’t very good.”

“That makes sense.” Catalina nodded sagely. “But if they are true fans, they would rather wait for an amazing book than get a rushed one sooner, right?”

“...yeah.” Cathy conceded. 

“I suppose that just made it all so much worse, huh?”

“Yeah. I had a good time, I swear. But after it all, when I got home, I was just really tired.”

“I noticed.” Catalina smirked. “I bet it was really overwhelming, all those people. I still wish you had let me come with.”

“In retrospect, that would have probably been a good idea.” Cathy smiled softly, burrowing deeper into the other’s arms. 

“This is what happens when you don’t bring your old godmother along for emotional support, mija,” Catalina joked, and Cathy let out a sharp laugh.

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

“Seriously, though, querida, I’m so sorry we didn’t see how miserable you were.” Catalina shifted so she could see Cathy’s face. The sixth Queen opened her mouth to say something, but Lina interjected, “Please don’t apologize.”

“How did you-”

“I’m psychic, mija. I thought you knew this.”

Cathy laughed softly again, but grew quiet quickly. Catalina began to run her hands through the girl’s curly hair.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

The younger woman hesitated, then shook her head.

“No. I just want to forget about it all. It was just very overwhelming and everything seemed to pile on. I’m not even upset. Just really, really tired.” 

“That makes sense. I suggest you go right to sleep, then”

“Probably a good idea.” Cathy nodded, but made no move to extract herself. 

“I suppose a few more minutes of cuddling couldn’t hurt, though.” Catalina chuckled, pulling the girl closer as she moved so she could lean against the headboard.

“Mhmm” Cathy hummed, face buried in her godmother’s cardigan.

“Alright, mija.” Lina smiled. “But if you fall asleep, I will wake you up to change into nightclothes.”

Cathy nodded minutely in understanding as the last of the tension left her body.

It had been a long day.

This was the perfect way to end it. 

[derireo]

no thoughts, head empty - omi

spending the day with each other was basically a luxury at this point. omi and izumi, late at night, try to squeeze some time in together before the night truly ends

It was almost like a childish game of hide and seek when looking for Izumi. Like how the parent would pretend they didn't know where their child went and would walk past their hiding spot multiple times while calling their name.

Except, Omi wasn't playing hide and seek, and he really had no idea where Izumi was.

She wasn't responding to the soft call of her name coming from Omi's lips as he walked down the hallways; even going to the courtyard. Oddly enough, she was nowhere to be seen.

Close to disrupting the rest of the dorm by pulling out his phone to call her (Izumi's ringtone was extremely loud), he was startled by the sight of someone sleeping atop the dinner table with a bowl of that night's dinner sitting just a few inches away.

The shocked expression on his face quickly turned to one of concern when he noticed that it was Izumi who had fallen asleep in the kitchen

With careful steps, Omi slid into the seat that was next to her while shrugging off his outside coat, laying it across her shoulders to keep her warm as he pulled the bowl of food towards him.

The meal was rice with katsudon topped with a hearty heaping of sauce drizzled on top. It was a bit of a shame that there wasn't any curry.

As much as everyone hated when Izumi cooked curry for dinner more than three times a week, Omi wasn't afraid to confess that he loved tasting the different types she whipped up whenever she had the chance.

The faint clinking of his metal chopsticks tapping against the ceramic bowl drowned out the sound of Izumi's calm breathing as he picked at his food, and Omi's eyes couldn't help but trail over to the sleeping figure beside him.

He shoved some rice into his mouth along with a bite of the katsudon while lifting his free hand to pet the back of Izumi's head, smoothing out the tangles in her hair.

He felt sorry for arriving home so late. His club lasted longer than expected and he forgot to text Izumi and say that she didn't have to wait up.

A frown was etched onto his face as his fingers went to comb Izumi's hair away from her peaceful visage while he bit on the end of one of his chopsticks.

Despite the apologetic feeling weighing heavy on his heart, he was thankful for her thoughtfulness and leaned down to kiss the top of her head before going back to eating.

The dorm was silent in spite of the cicadas that sang to the crescent moon outside and Omi did his best not to rouse his slumbering girlfriend from her rest. They were both working diligently during the day and night, and he couldn't blame her for falling asleep; if he wasn't eating dinner he would have already been carrying her back to her room by now.

Another clink against his bowl was what caused Izumi to blink her eyes open lazily, and when her gaze landed on the young man who was frozen in his spot she only smiled lazily and lifted a hand to wrap her nimble fingers around his wrist. A sudden sigh escaped Omi and his shoulders relaxed at the mellow response he received and swiped his thumb gently across her cheek to keep her entertained as he continued to eat.

Izumi's eyelids fluttered shut once more at the warm caress and squeezed his wrist in turn.

"What time is it now?" She croaked. Her eyebrows furrowed unconsciously as she tried to guess in her mind how long she had stayed in the kitchen for while Omi cleared his throat and took a look at the wristwatch that was on his other arm.

He let out another sigh, more tired this time. His gaze found Izumi's face and when he noticed her staring at him curiously, he smiled.

"Quarter to two." He murmured as he affectionately rubbed her cheek with his palm. Omi didn't check the time when he came home earlier, so it was a surprise to see that it had gotten so late already. His shoulders suddenly slumped as the disappointment in himself for keeping Izumi awake ate at him again, and he shoved another portion of rice into his mouth to keep his frown at bay.

It was obvious his mood was dampening with how he was biting at his chopsticks, but he really couldn't help it, and Izumi, being unusually observant tonight, noticed. Her smile was still lazy as she tried to recollect herself from her long nap, and when her sweet boyfriend wasn't paying attention, sat up from her resting position while locking their hands together.

Omi was slightly distracted by the food he was eating and almost didn't realise Izumi making a move to slide onto his lap until she had his arm wrapping around her waist, yawning.

"Let's go sleep in my room when you're done." She offered despite not giving Omi a chance to decline and smiled down at him once her thighs were comfortably cradling his hips. He was staring up at her, dumbfounded, with his chopsticks hanging from his mouth as his brain short-circuited due to the position she put themselves in.

Her bright eyes showed no hints of an ulterior motive, but Omi's cheeks flushed a light pink anyways.

His coat had fallen to the floor at this point, but Omi was too busy trying to form words that Izumi eventually got bored and slumped into his chest with another yawn, her arms tucking themselves under his own to curl around his torso as she buried her face into the slope of his neck. His awkward sputtering came to a halt once he decided to shove the last piece of katsudon into his mouth, causing her to sigh in relief.

Her body heat seeped through his clothes and made his skin tingle, making him wrap her smaller frame up in his arms as he tucked her into his chest with his head resting atop hers.

"I missed you." She whispered into the silence. Her fingers gently dug into the soft material of his shirt as the clatter of chopsticks falling into a bowl came right after, her heart jumping into her throat when her body was suddenly heaved up into the air when Omi stood up from his chair with his arm still tightly wound around her waist.

It had been a while since they got to be together like this, all close and tangled with each other. Omi understood what Izumi was feeling right now and had to resist the urge to crush her in his arms to try and make up for all the time they lost.

"I missed you too." He murmured into the shell of her ear sweetly, then pressed a firm kiss to the side of her head as he went to put his dishes in the sink with Izumi still clinging onto him like a baby koala.

Her smile was shy when he went to kiss her hair again, and she hid her face once more in the crook of his neck as he chuckled to himself, making sure not to bump into anything as he bent down to pick up his coat that was left hanging on the floor. They made it safely out the kitchen with Omi's calculated steps and went down the hallway.

"Got anything tomorrow?" He asked out of pure curiosity. Izumi's answer would tell him whether he should stay the night or go back to his own room where Taichi slept.

Sensing this, Izumi removed herself from where she was hiding her face and squinted her eyes at Omi who was busy opening the door to her bedroom. Her boyfriend briefly glanced at her accusing expression then smiled, gently kicking the door closed when he strode inside.

"If you really want, I won't go to my room tonight." He offered her in the twinkling shine of the moonlight, setting Izumi down on the side of her bed to kneel down in front of her as his hands were resting on her knees.

Her doe eyes were soft under the glare of the moon, and Omi waited patiently for her answer with bated breath, his thumbs absentmindedly rubbing light circles into the skin above her knees.

"Sleep with me?" She said, coy. Her hands reached out for Omi's face before he could react and pulled him in for a chaste kiss; light and sweet. His chuckle was barely audible when their lips met once more, then again, and again, until Omi had to physically pull himself away before they got carried away.

His answer was yes despite not saying anything.

"I'm not busy tomorrow," He whispered, a grin spreading across his face when Izumi's eyes went wide at the unexpected news, "so we can sleep in. Tsuzuru's cooking breakfast this time anyways."

With an elated sigh, Izumi gave Omi one last kiss before pulling at his hands to tell him that he can stand up now. "Really, that's the best news I've heard all week."

Despite the unbelieving scoff that left him, Omi couldn't help but agree with Izumi and nodded his head as he strode towards her drawer, his hands immediately rummaging inside to grab a few of his own clothes that were hidden at the bottom.

"How do you feel about a specially made breakfast by yours truly?" He asked, casual as possible, as he bunched the back of his shirt in his hands and slipped it off with a sigh. He turned around to face Izumi while he dropped the shirt on the ground and replaced it with a tight under armour shirt, smiling as he noticed her trying her best to look at his face.

She briefly pursed her lips while her hands were gently (not really) gripping onto the edge of the bed before showing Omi an unaffected smile. She did her best not to let her gaze wander when he changed out of his pants and into the new pair of shorts, but sighed just a little when she remembered the image of his well toned stomach flashing her before he put on another shirt.

"I'd love it." She murmured honestly; bashfully. Her cheeks were flushed, noticeable even in the darkness of her bedroom, all thanks to the moon that was smiling down upon the young couple. Omi's smile was full of adoration, and he tried to hide it by bending down to pick up his old clothes and dropping it in the hamper by the drawer.

"I'll let Tsuzuru know not to make us breakfast then." He nodded decisively and went back to where Izumi sat, his arms hooking under her own to lift her up in the air and drop her onto the centre of the bed. He was grinning now, after she let out a shocked gasp, and went under the covers with her as she whisper shouted her complaints.

"Hush," Omi chuckled when Izumi's fist made contact with his chest, void of any malice as she pouted at him, "let's sleep now."

She sighed in defeat once she felt the strong weight of Omi's arm curl around her waist and pull her into his warm embrace, his other arm a cushion for her head as he quickly pressed his nose into her jaw to glide his lips along the spot beneath her ear for a kiss.

"I'll make you something delicious, so stop sulking." Omi huffed out a laugh. Izumi could only grumble as she tucked her head under his chin and wrapped her thighs around one of his, her arms loosely hugging his torso.

"And after that, we can take a walk in the park or admire the flowers in the courtyard," he whispered, his hand sneaking beneath her shirt to tickle his fingers against her waist, "then we can spend the rest of our day in here."

He paused as a few thoughts popped into his head while Izumi listened, her eyes fluttering shut as the soft lull of his voice soothed her mind.

"I'll make sure to take good care of you, okay?" His voice was low this time, and the touch of his hand against her skin with the suggestive undertone in his promise made Izumi shiver with embarrassment. All she could do was nod obediently as her mind went blank.

"Good, now sleep well." Omi chuckled, tightening his hold on Izumi as he closed his eyes with a deep sigh. "'Cause I might keep you in here for a while."

[kirbychan234]

Harvest Moon AU: Teruteru Hanamura’s Sidequest

hhhhhh so it’s @chantillyxlacey‘s fault i’m catching FEELINGS rn

danganronpa harvest moon au, everyone’s got a sidequest they need taken care of, and i absolutely need to talk about teruteru’s sidequest

He works at the diner, of course. The Hanamura diner is quite a popular place in down, despite how, uh, questionable the lead cook’s attitude is. But his food is no joke so it’s hard to complain too much. 

Gameplay wise, if you take some of the stuff you’ve harvested from your farm and give them to Teruteru, he’ll make dishes for you. They’re costly, but they give a ton of stamina when eaten. At first it starts off just giving him one ingredient, but if you build your friendship with him, it can grow to two or even three ingredients. Depending on how many ingredients you use will depend on the price and the potency of the stamina recovery. 

He’s a little hard to want to get to know just because of how lewd he is. But take some time to get to know him and he’s not all that bad. Maybe. It’s difficult to say.

On certain days, an older woman can be found sitting at one of the chairs outside of the diner. When talked to, her smile is soft and weak, but sincere, and she introduces herself as Teruteru’s mother. She remarks that she’s feeling well enough to sit outside today, so she’s out taking the fresh air. 

Once mid-fall hits, Teruteru’s mother stops spending time outside. Teruteru himself isn’t nearly as cheerful as he once was but he tries to hide it behind fake smiles and lewd remarks, though they aren’t nearly as frequent as they used to be. He seems...broken.

And then once winter comes, the Hanamura diner suddenly closes, and Teruteru and his mother are nowhere to be found. You can no longer see either of them, nor make recipes with him for the rest of the game. 

That is, unless you follow some very specific steps. 

First of all, befriending Teruteru is essential for this. The further along you are in your friendship, the more he talks about his mother’s illness. She’s gravely ill and has been in and out of bed rest for years. The local nurse, Mikan Tsumiki, has been taking care of her throughout those years. 

Talking to and befriending Mikan will also shed some more light on Teruteru’s mother’s illness. It’s a very rare illness and cures aren’t exactly common around here, but she promises to do what she can. 

Come mid-fall however, Teruteru’s mother’s condition suddenly gets worse. If your friendship with both Teruteru and Mikan is high enough, you can listen in on a conversation between the two of them regarding his mother’s condition. It’s no longer stable, the illness has nearly reached terminal, and if a cure isn’t administered soon, she will die.

Mikan is trying and failing to hold herself together. She tells Teruteru, almost sobbing, that his mother only has a few weeks left to live, if that. Teruteru, looking absolutely shattered, slowly leaves the clinic without even acknowledging you. 

When Mikan finally notices you, you comfort her. She seems devastated that she can’t save someone, it’s why she became a nurse. You ask her if she can make a cure, and she says she can’t because she doesn’t have the ingredients nor the tools to do so. The cure requires an herb that she’s never seen grown around town, and it’s basically impossible to get it from an outside source in time for her to save her. 

You ask her about the cure, she gives you a description, and you vow to find it for her. Exploring around town will have yielded you privy to the knowledge of where to find the herb: it grows in the mine. It’s hard to get to, but doable. You tell her that you’ll get the herb if she gets the tools. Mikan trusts you at this point, so she vows to get everything she needs if you’ll provide the ingredients. 

You present the herb to Mikan and she is overjoyed. She has everything she needs now, and takes a few days to make the cure, but it works. Teruteru’s mother’s condition slowly becomes stable and she finally looks like she’s not in pain anymore.

Mikan tells Teruteru that you were the one who got the ingredients she needed, and he outright hugs you and sobs. He’s so so grateful. Eventually though, you are ushered out by Mikan because her patient needs rest and Teruteru refuses to leave her side. 

The Hanamura diner is closed for a while after that. You also can’t talk to Teruteru or his mother during this time, since they both need time to recuperate. If you ask her, Mikan will update you, and smiles and says that she should be fully recovered in a few weeks. 

When she does recover, Teruteru’s mother can be seen actually walking around town. If you talk to her, her smile is still soft but no longer weak. She thanks you for everything you’ve done for her and her family, and says that you will always have a place at her table if you need it. Sometimes you can find her sitting in that same place in front of the diner she was while she was sick. She remarks that she’s not ill anymore, but this spot is special to her. She meets the most wonderful people while sitting here, after all, she says while giving you the brightest smile.

Teruteru himself is now always elated to see you whenever you walk into the diner. His recipes no longer cost you anything; he’s more than willing to cook for you for free. As long as you have the ingredients, he can make some of the most overpowered stamina recovery items in the game. He’s even toned down the dirty jokes for you! 

[celtics534]

Can’t Fight This Feeling

Covert Love chapter 3!!!!

Get ready for some flirty banter and lustful looks 😂

Also Read on: FF.net or AO3

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Report, Potter," Jamieson demanded, flame flicking around his disembodied head. 

  "No signs of vicious intent towards Weasley as of yet, sir." Harry sat back on his knees. Floo reports were Harry's least favorite way to discuss his findings, mostly because his knees would start to hurt after a few minutes, but also Jamieson's head surrounded by green fire always gave Harry's boss the look of a mad man on the verge of blowing up a building. Maybe it was the beard… maybe he only thought that way because he was jealous of how perfect Jamieson's beard was…

  "That's it?" Jamieson's disapproving tone brought Harry back from his reverie..  

  "No, sir. I can report that I have become close with Miss Weasley." 

 Close doesn't even begin to describe what he felt… what he wanted to be. Nope! He couldn't let his thoughts drift to that. The dreams he'd been having about her were enough, but if she started possessing his mind during waking hours… 

  “Would you say she considers you a friend?” 

  “I’d say so.” Though I’d like to be more...

  “Good, so you should be in the perfect position to stay close to her and work with her brother.” 

  “Yes, sir.” 

“Bill is having dinner at Ginny’s home this Monday night. See if you can get invited. We want it to seem normal for you and Bill to be speaking should the situation ever arise.” 

  “Just her and Bill?” Harry didn’t want to insult his boss, but he saw a large problem with that plan. “And how should I go about getting the invite?” 

  “Eh?” Jamieson’s brow furrowed. “Right, I forgot to tell you that part. Sunday night, you should bump into Ginny and Bill casually while they are out shopping. According to Bill, they will be in Diagon Alley between seven and eight in the evening. Ginny wanted to look at -”

  “Some new gloves because hers are wearing out between the fingers,” Harry interrupted, remembering Ginny taking his hand to show him exactly where she meant yesterday. They had talked for hours on the cliffside near ruins. It was exactly what he wanted… and more . He’d almost kissed her so many times he’d lost count. She was just too… words failed him every time he tried to describe her. Nothing in his vocabulary was enough to say just how incredible she was. But every time his eyes had drifted to her perfectly full lips, a voice in the back of his mind (that sounded scarily like Jamieson) stopped him from following through with his inclinations. 

  He couldn’t kiss her, couldn’t be with her like that while undercover. It was completely against the rules, not to mention immoral. He couldn’t lead her on like that, make it so she developed feelings for him while lying to her. Well, not really lying. He hadn’t told her a single untrue word. Everything about his family, childhood, and quidditch exploits was true. Yet, any time the conversation came to his work history, he changed topics. No . He couldn’t follow through with all the desires. Instead, he was forced to settle for his dream-self fulfilling them. 

  Dirty, hot dreams . Dreams he'd never discuss with a living soul. 

  "That's right." Jamieson’s head bobbed in approval. "So I'd say show up and get to chatting. I'm sure if you say something about how you were hoping the two of you could get together that night, she'll invite you. Or Bill will take the cue and ask you to come." 

  "Okay." Harry took a deep breath. His mind ran through different scenarios, all of which lead to Ginny leaning up to kiss him on the cheek and he just happened to turn at the same time so their lips met. Fucking hell, Potter, you’ve got it bad!  

  He cleared his throat, hoping his boss wouldn’t notice the flush creeping up his cheeks in the firelight. “Will do, sir.” 

  “Very well. Good luck, Potter.” And just like that, Jamieson pulled his head out of the flame. Harry fell back against the side of the sofa. Jamieson had made it all sound so easy, of course, he hadn’t known about the constant war between Harry’s mind and hormones. 

  Harry took his glasses off his face, throwing them aside, before rubbing his palms over his face. The more he thought about it, the more anxious he felt. First off, he needed to put a wrap on these feelings he had for Ginny. They just couldn’t happen and the sooner he got that through his thick head the better off he’d be. Secondly, there was no way in hell he was going to lose said feelings before Monday, and if he was going to be having dinner with Ginny’s brother (who also happened to be his handler for the case from this point on), Harry needed to at least control his desire.

  Yup , he was done for. 

  XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 Harry took a deep breath before raising his fist and knocking on the dark oak door of Ginny’s cottage. He was fifteen minutes earlier than they’d discussed, but sitting around his flat had been driving him mad. Getting invited to the Weasley siblings’ dinner had been easy. Harry hadn’t even brought up the topic. When he’d accidentally run into Ginny and Bill in Diagon Alley on Sunday, Ginny had mentioned the dinner and then she’d invited him. 

  As odd as it was to say, it both thrilled and frustrated Harry to no end the ease he felt with Ginny. It elated him that she clearly cared about him in some capacity, enough to invite him to dinner at least. But then every time his heart seemed to skip a beat due to his happiness, it would collapse into his gut when he remembered that he was only there for a job. He wasn’t supposed to develop his own feelings for the individual. Quite the contrary actually, he was meant to keep a level head during an investigation and feelings were the number one reason for clouded judgment. 

  Oh, but how the feelings had taken hold of Harry. He knew he’d been in major trouble after one conversation with Ginny, but everything he learned about her made Harry fall further into the all-encompassing void that was Ginny Weasley. 

  And speaking of his temptress...

  The door opened wide to reveal a beaming Ginny. “Harry!” she pulled him into the sitting room. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  Before Harry could make a pitiful comment of me too or I wouldn’t miss it , Ginny started talking in a rapid-fire manner. “Bill is bringing his wife, who is one of the biggest food snobs I’ve ever met. And I am no cook. I was literally just going to heat one of those muggle frozen lasagnas, but there is no way phlegm -- I mean Fleur -- will stand for it. Not to mention she’s pregnant so she’s even more phlegmish than normal. I swear Harry, I may -”

  Harry couldn’t keep up with it all, but what he did understand was Ginny was stressed and he needed to fix that. He put the wine he’d brought down onto a small table behind the sofa before grabbing Ginny by her shoulders and giving her a little shake. “Ginny, calm down. We can figure this out.”

  The look in her eye was slightly crazed, but she took three long deep breaths. “Right. You’re right. We are two grown adults and we can figure this out.” She glanced over her shoulder, towards what looked to be the entry to the kitchen. “But I literally have nothing but that frozen lasagna.” 

  “Well, good thing we’re a wizard and witch.” Harry smiled, hoping to encourage her. “Bill should be herein,” he glanced at his watch, “twelve minutes. So I’ll just pop down to the store and get us some ingredients.”

  Ginny nodded slowly. “Yeah, that could work… but there is still one little problem. I can’t cook worth a shit, so just getting the ingredients to make something everyone will like does nothing.”

  “Ah, see my godfather, Sirius, always vouched that cooking was an important art, so he taught me a thing or two over the years.” 

  “Really?” Ginny’s eyes had started to lose that manic look to them, instead, surprised permeated off her. “Why did he think that?”

  “Er --” Harry’s hand came up to rub the back of his neck. “He liked to have company and cooking a good meal was a way he impressed them.”

  “Company?” Ginny smirked. “Based on the stories you’ve told of good ol’ Sirius, I have to assume this would be company of the female variety?”

  “Hey now.” Harry tried to scowl. “You know what assuming makes you.” He paused, watching Ginny’s lips curl into an amused grin. “Correct. It makes you so correct.”

  Ginny laughed, the last bit of stress leaving her shoulders just like Harry hoped. “Well, I guess there’s the silver lining for your godfather being a dog.” 

  Harry snorted. “That’s one way to put it. So, I’ll be right back.”

  “Hang on.” Ginny grabbed a small bag off the little table. “I’m gonna come with you.” 

  “You don’t need to be here when Bill comes?” Harry asked, ignoring the way butterflies fluttered in his stomach at the mere idea of going out with her. Why was it that no matter how mundane something was, the thought of doing it with Ginny thrilled him? Fuck, Harry thought he might even enjoy drunk apparition paperwork if Ginny was by his side.

  Ginny waved off his concern as she tugged on a light jacket. “He has the password so he’ll just let himself in. Also, this shouldn’t take too long. Do you have a dish in mind?”

  “Uh - How does Fleur feel about pomegranate?”

  XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

  “This is amazing, you two.” Bill praised for the third time that night as he finished off his second serving of toasted coconut tilapia. 

  “Thanks, but really it was all Harry.” Ginny beamed at Harry, causing his heart to feel as if it was about to leap out his chest. “He was the master chef.”

  “Where did you learn to cook, ‘Arry?” Fleur asked, a hand resting on her bulging stomach. Harry understood why Ginny had been nervous about feeding Fleur. When she’d first sat down, Fleur had been overly cautious about every bite, taking dainty tasters. But after a few nibbles, she’d clearly decided the fish topped with pomegranate salsa passed the test. Fleur had explained that during her pregnancy that food was a win or lose situation. She’d then reminisced about the last time she’d had Ginny’s cooking and it had been a loss, which in Harry’s mind started to explain the endearing nickname Ginny had for her sister-in-law.   

  “My godfather likes to host dinners and so I would spend time with him in the kitchen.” Harry took a sip from his goblet of wine. “I enjoyed helping him and in the end, I learned a thing or two.” 

  “Well, women love a man who can cook. Is that not that right, Ginny?” Fleur sent a dazzling smile at the redhead. 

  Ginny, in turn, glared at the blonde. “I find anyone who can cook impressive.” She cleared her throat before turning back to Harry. “But yeah this was amazing, Harry. Thank you."

  "Any time." Harry could feel the heat rising up his neck towards his cheeks, but he hoped people would assume it was from the wine, not his thrill at being praised by Ginny. 

  “So, Harry, how are you liking the Bats so far?” Bill asked; his tone made Harry tear his eyes off Ginny. The previously pleasant smile on Bill’s lips had shifted to a deep frown. 

  Harry cleared his throat. He wasn’t quite sure what shifted Bill’s mood, but Harry could guess he hadn’t hidden his admiration for Ginny as well as he’d hoped. “I -- uh -- it’s been a dream come true.” 

  “I can imagine so. And it’s great you’ve already found a friend on the team.” The way Bill emphasized friend made Harry want to wince. Fleur, however, didn’t recoil from her husband’s tone. On the contrary, Harry saw her fingers claw into his knee. 

  “It is.” Fleur’s smile countered Bill’s wince. “You and Ginny make a belle paire .”

  Harry hadn’t spent much time learning French over the years. He had only learned Italian because he had been sent on a ten-month assignment in Rome. So he wasn’t one-hundred percent sure what Fleur had said, but he had a strong guess based on context clues. 

  The room felt as if the heater had been turned up twenty degrees. He looked around the room, taking in the different knick-knacks Ginny had gathered over the years, rather than looking in the direction of the one person whose attention he craved: Ginny. He didn’t want to see the odious look she must have on her face… or worse, if she agreed with Fleur. It would simultaneously elate Harry and break him.

  “How about pudding?” Ginny’s tone was... normal. Harry couldn’t resist the temptation to look. She was glaring at Fleur, not disgusted or hopeful, just glaring. 

  “I’ll help you, Ginny.” Bill stood, leaning down to kiss the top of his wife’s head. The two redheads abandoned Harry as they walked side by side into the kitchen. 

  “So, ‘Arry.” Fleur brought her elbows onto the table, lacing her fingers into a high bridge. “How are things between you and Ginny?”

  Harry would be the first to admit he was oblivious when it came to some things, but even he understood the implication in Fleur’s tone. A blazing heat spread from the back of his neck to his ears. “I -uh -”

  Fleur waved off his stutters. “You don’t need to say anything. The two of you are évident . It’s adorable.” 

  “Uh - thank you.” Harry wasn’t sure what to say. Now his cheeks were as warm as his neck. 

  “But I must ask why you two are not together.” Fleur’s gaze shifted to rival one of his fellow aurors. “You are interested in her, and she, you. So why are you not together?”

  Harry’s stomach churned. “I -” How could he explain what was going through his head? He couldn’t keep all his thoughts straight. Besides, why should he even explain it to this woman he’d only met that night? 

  There was something about Fleur that made Harry’s resolve crumble. Maybe it was the look she was giving him, or maybe it was the overwhelming feeling of happiness and love that seemed to roll off the blonde woman.   

  “I’m worried about work,” Harry said slowly. He needed to mind his tongue, making sure he didn’t reveal his mission. “It’s -- uh -- frowned upon to be with someone like that.” 

  Fleur cocked her head, her hair flowing like a waterfall down her shoulder. One light brow raised. “I didn’t know the quidditch team was so strict about that.” She reached across the table and grabbed his hand. “But, ‘Arry, if you truly feel for Ginny as I think you do, things at work will not matter. You will figure out any problems together. What matters is how happy you will make one another.”    

  Harry blinked at her. “I’m not sure that’s how it works.” 

  “ Pish .” Fleur waved her free hand. “That’s what happened to me and Bill. Did you know, my père did not approve of my union with Bill at first. He thought Bill was only marrying me for my looks.” She smiled grimly. “Being half veela, it had happened to others in our family. But that’s not my Beel . ”  

  The way she said Bill’s name made Harry’s heart clench. There was such affection and love . Harry wasn’t jealous of Bill and Fleur, but jealous of how much they cared for each other. He wanted someone to love him like Fleur clearly did for Bill.  

  Harry tried to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat. It wasn't until that moment that he realized just how much he wanted it. Wanted the love of someone who he loved in return. A deep love that made him glow with happiness, just as Fleur did. 

  Ginny and Bill walked through the kitchen doorway laughing, the latter holding a large treacle tart. As he looked at her adorable curved lips, freckled cheeks, and heard her laughter, Harry knew it wasn’t just anyone’s love he craved. He wanted hers. He wanted her. Ginny. Air seemed to get stuck in his chest, making it hard to breathe. 

  She was everything he desired in a woman. Everything he craved. Her sense of humor, creativity, passion... and that didn’t even start to cover his physical attraction to the redhead. Ginny Weasley was the ideal woman for him. 

  “‘Arry?” Fleur’s voice brought Harry out of his epiphany, forcing his lungs to work again. “Are you a treacle tart fan?” 

  “I -” His heartfelt as if it was about to come out of his shirt. “I love treacle tart.” 

  Ginny beamed at him as she placed the warmed sweet down on the table. “I remembered! I made it yesterday after I invited you to join us.”

  “I didn’t know you made this,” Bill said as he spread the clean plates and silverware around the table. “I assumed you’d bought it. Since when have you known how to make treacle tart?”

  “Well,” Ginny’s grin became sheepish. “I may have had to fire call mum a few times yesterday to get the instructions.” 

  “Well, it looks délicieuse .” Fleur began to cut the tart. “Well done, Ginny.” 

  “I -” Ginny’s eyebrows rose into her hairline. “Thank you, Fleur.” 

  Fleur smiled at her acknowledgment of Ginny’s words. “As you are the guest, how about you try the first slice, ‘Arry?” She placed a large wedge down in front of Harry. 

  It was one of the best he’d ever had. The tart and sweetness flowed perfectly and the crust was that ideal golden brown that created the best flavor. He let the second bite sit in his mouth for an extra second before chewing; he sat back in his chair and let his head fall back.

  “That good?” Bill’s voice asked.

  Harry took an extra moment to swallow before answering. He looked at the party. Bill had a skeptical brow raised, Fleur’s lips were twisted in a knowing smile, and Ginny… the hopeful glint in her eyes made the dessert that much sweeter. “Ginny, I have a question for you.”

  “Okay?” The hope shifted to confusion.

  “What’s your ring size, because I’m about ready to propose to you?” 

  The room was silent for five heartbeats before Fleur gave one of the most unladylike snorts, Harry had ever heard. Then she was laughing. Ginny followed suit, her lips twisted in a wide smile. 

  “Little bit soon for that, don’t you think, Potter?” Ginny asked once her laughter subsided. “We haven’t even had a proper snog yet.”

  “That can be arranged. Would you prefer me to make my move in front of everyone after we win next week’s game, or would you rather a more private affair?” 

  Bill groan. “I don’t wanna hear this.”

  Ginny slapped her brother’s chest with the back of her hand. “The number of times I witnessed you flirting with Fleur… a little payback is well deserved. “ 

  “ Ugh .” Bill sat back in his discarded chair with the grace of a baby giraffe. 

  Harry only half focused on the room as Ginny finished serving dessert. When she rounded the table to get back to her chair, she stopped beside him, her lips brushing his ear. Her voice a seductive whisper. “Dealer’s choice, Harry. “ 

  Goosepimples ran along Harry’s arms as she moved away, a satisfied grin on her lips. It took everything in his power to stop himself from reaching out and grabbing her wrist. It was bad enough that a certain part of his body was reacting to her persuasion without his permission, so pulling her back into his arms and kissing her hard was not going to happen. At least not until he figured out how to keep both his job and her.  

  Sooner rather than later, Harry thought with his eyes on her retreating swaying hips, because he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold back.  

[mooksie01]

With Teammates Like These, Who Needs Friends? (5/5)

Chapter Summary: A post-mission lunch break leads to... more mockery.

Clover is going to fire every single one of his teammates.

Warnings: More bullying of teammates, mild spiciness, workplace banter of a less-than-respectful nature

AO3 Link: [X]

First Chapter: [X]

Notes: Hey everyone! Sorry for the slight delay in getting this chapter out, I spent the majority of yesterday moving back into my dorm room and the rest of it hanging out with my friends that I haven't seen in a month, so I didn't really have time to post. Hopefully this chapter makes up for it, though! I hope you all enjoy the last chapter in this first installment of the series! Subsequent installments will be posted whenever I find time to write them, which may be sporadic now that classes have started back up again. 

Please like, reblog, and comment if you're able!!!! You guys have all been so amazing throughout this journey and I could not appreciate you more!

---

Clover is ambushed the moment he steps foot into the mess hall after the mission debrief. This time, he is fully prepared for Elm’s attack, and he ducks under her attempt at wrapping one of her well-muscled arms around his neck. 

“Aw, come on, captain! I was only going to mess up your hair a little!” Elm cries exuberantly, apparently elated at this turn of events. She is always excited when Clover plays along with her roughhousing. 

“Sorry, Elm,” Clover says, getting in line for some of whatever they’re serving today. He’d cook if he weren’t so wiped from the mission, but he supposes that he’ll have to settle for food from the canteen just this once. “I’m afraid that I’d like to keep my hair as it is for right now.”

He accepts a tray of some sort of hearty stew and a chunk of bread, pleased. He’d personally signed off on the directive to encourage the kitchen staff to serve more hot meals, and he’s glad to see that the order is being followed. The lower-ranking soldiers certainly deserve it. 

Elm laughs, boxing him on the shoulder with so much force that, had he not been ready for it, Clover likely would’ve dropped his newly-acquired food. “Why, captain!” she shouts as they head in the direction of the table where the rest of the Ace Ops are sitting, “Are you trying to look nice for someone? Has some little birdie caught your eye?” 

Clover rolls his eyes as they settle next to each other on one of the benches. Across from them, Vine speaks, “I believe Huntsman Branwen has captured the captain’s attention, Elm. I was under the impression that you already knew this.” 

“And I,” Clover cuts Elm off before she can say something stupid that will stack more disciplinary action on top of her ever-growing pile, “was under the impression that my subordinates had a bit more tact and a lot more sense, but I suppose that I was wrong. Especially considering that stunt you pulled during the mission today, Elm.”

Harriet and Marrow exchange a long suffering look from where they sit beside Vine. Harriet leans an elbow on the table and props her chin in her palm, half-heartedly stirring around her stew with the other hand. “Are you guys really still talking about this? I already told you, I have no desire to poke into my coworkers' personal lives.” 

Elm powers on, disregarding Harriet’s words, “Aw, lighten up, captain! I feel like you should be celebrating! After all,” she winks with all the subtlety of a raging Megoliath, “you got to spend the whole mission today with your pretty bird, didn’t you? Not to mention whatever was going on in the hall this morning….” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. 

Clover sighs, “If you could please refrain from referring to Qrow as a ‘pretty bird’ or whatever else, I don’t think he’d be too happy if he heard you saying that.” 

Marrow perks up next to Harriet, “Qrow?”

“Ha!” Elm slams her fists down onto the table, rattling everyone’s dishes. “Seems like someone is on a first-name-basis!” 

Is it too late to take his food back to his quarters? Probably. That would likely be an admission of guilt in his teammates’ eyes. Instead, Clover raises his chin in challenge, narrowing his eyes at Elm. “I’ll have you know that Qrow requested that we all call him by his first name. I simply have enough respect for him to abide by that.” He may have resolved to get closer to the other man, but he doesn’t need his teammates to know that right away. That will just lead them to start harassing Qrow. 

“Seems like you’re doing a little more than ‘respecting’ him, Clover,” Marrow states, tail wagging behind him. 

Clover scowls at him, feeling betrayed, “What ever happened to not acting like kids, Marrow?” 

Marrow shrugs, leaning precariously into the open space where the back of the table’s bench would be, if it had one. He crosses his arms casually behind his head and closes his eyes. “Hey, the way I see it, if everyone’s dog-piling onto you instead of me, for once? That’s a good thing. Besides,” he sighs, “that was before I knew that you had an actual, real crush on the dude. I thought you just wanted to bone him.” 

At this, Clover swears that he can actually feel a few circuits in his brain all frying at once. He resolutely ignores any thoughts of “boning” Qrow, as well as the incessant laughter coming from Elm and Vine’s (faux-?)confused inquiries as to what exactly “bone” is a euphemism for, instead choosing to focus on Marrow, who is still lounging across from him. 

He snarls at the faunus, “Marrow. Need I remind you that I am your commanding officer and that I am more than willing to issue disciplinary if I feel it’s necessary? And that is incredibly disrespectful to Qrow, as well as myself.” 

Marrow straightens immediately and crosses his arms in a pout, “Aw, come on, Clover, I was just kidding. You did the same thing to me a few months ago when I was into that rabbit girl from Menagerie.”

That… was fair. But still, Qrow would probably be all kinds of upset and embarrassed if he heard that the people who were supposed to be his teammates for the foreseeable future were all making inappropriate jokes about him. 

Harriet groans loudly, dropping her head into her hands, “Can we please stop talking about this? The guy probably isn’t even gay.” 

Clover’s heart skips a beat. A strange sense of something that feels very much like panic floods his veins. “Really, you don’t think so?” He leans toward Harriet, aware that something weird is probably going on with his face, but unable to find it within himself to care.

Harriet backs away as much as she is able to while staying seated on the bench. “Uh.”

“I’d imagine that it would be simple enough to ask General Ironwood whether Huntsman Branwen is interested in acquiring a same-sex partner or not,” Vine folds his arms placidly onto the table, gaze contemplative, “considering their apparent long history. We may even be able to present our inquiries to some of the children that Huntsman Branwen brought with him. It is my understanding that a Miss ‘Ruby’ and Miss ‘Yang’ are related to him in some way, if the intel Elm and I received from Miss Valkyrie, Mister Arc, and Mister Ren while wandering the mines today is correct.”

Clover’s brain takes a long second to catch up to all of that. Then it rewinds.

“Hold on!” He interjects with no small amount of alarm. “What do you mean by ‘we’?” 

Elm grins a little too widely. It’s extremely off-putting. “Isn’t it obvious?!” she yells. Loudly. 

Several heads turn in their direction.

“We’re going to help you get your man!”

---

More Notes: There we go! A return to the roots of this story, which was always meant to be the Ace Ops torturing poor Clover (but really, how bad can you feel for the guy who's currently in the process of snagging a date with Qrow?). I hope you all enjoyed and I love you guys so much!

THANK YOU FOR READING!

(That Clover/Qrow/Elm story will be going up in a couple of hours, too, by the way! I have a few errands to run first, but then it's full steam ahead!)

[jawllines]

vamp harry vamp harry vamp harry but aLSO i saw an anon suggested a super cute update from the tattoo h fic where they get into a fight and yn doesn’t talk to him and h is all sad and pouty bc he just wants a cuddle now and realized he’s wrong and I NEED THAT now pls

YOU KNOW I ACTUALLY FORGOT TO POST THE WEDDING BLURB DIDN’T I? I WILL POST IT UNDER THE CUT

“Harry when’s the last time you went to a wedding?”

“1840.” Harry answered without a second thought, frowning down at the carrot he was chopping.

Y/N doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to that, no matter how many times he mentions the various years in which he was inhabiting a spot on the planet when Y/N’s grandparents weren’t even a glimmer in their own parent’s eyes. Understandably, this quick response caught her off guard, her brows dipping downward and a gaze overwrought with confusion as she wiggled herself in her spot on the counter, “Whose?”

“Queen Victoria and Prince Albert; I wore a beautiful tailored original flared frock coat -- reckon m’the one who brought it into style, everyone gives Albert the bloody credit -- and my date wore this gorgeous silk satin off the shoulder dress,” he takes a look to her, “Not a real date mind you, her father paid me a lump some of money to take her with me so she could get courted and sadly my little human wasn’t there to accompany me.” He runs his finger down the sides of the blade, swiping off any diced carrot that clung to it down to the cutting board, “Lovely reception, I stole a dance with her.”

Y/N grins, seeing him smiling fondly at the thought of it and she’s positively elated. She’d been rather nervous to bring a wedding up to him -- not because she wanted one herself, no, at least not right now. However, she got a costly parchment paper invitation to her friend Caroline from Sophomore year film studies (one of those where they were really close then, and they simply just fell out of touch apart from a spontaneous conversation every now and again) wedding. She figures because she’d been the person to set them up with limited help from Niall who was more concerned with the fact that he hadn’t lost his virginity at the time so “Why should I help someone else get their dick wet, huh?” But it had worked out well. She always liked their pictures together and felt a small glimmer of pride when she saw that they were still together since she was the matchmaker of the century.

“Welllllll, we were invited to a wedding! Minus the frock coats though,” he slides the carrots from the cutting board into a bowl so he could add it all together and mix it, “Plus, I haven’t gotten to get a new dress for anything in a long while and I’m kinda itching to spend money on something cute.”

Harry turns to face her, that permanent furrow planted deep in his brow, “I bloody hate weddings.” He stated plainly and Y/N’s face warps to match his own.

“What?” She nearly cries out, “But you just said --”

“There’s a reason the last wedding I went to was 1840, Little human.” He shakes his head, moving to chopped carrots to the broccoli, diced onions, ginger root, halved green beans, ginger root and garlic; he was making her a Ginger Veggie Stir-fry (he’s still very much pro-health considering the turmoil he puts her body through when he drinks from her, and she had a particularly shitty dinner of ordered in greasy, cheese pizza the night prior considering Harry had been working late and those are her only cheat days) and he was being quite diligent. It was the first time he was making it so it was probably a bad idea springing this on him while he was in his chef state of mind (because nothing matters as much as his dishes when he’s cooking). “The ceremonies are long and drawn out, the vows are contrived, you’re expected to stay for the reception and dance and eat the disgusting excuse for a mass produced dinner.” He shakes his head, the thought of it absurd in his mind, “Human weddings are meaningless; they divorce just as quick as they enter them most of the time. All that time and money wasted for what? A piece of paper? It’d made me irate before but now that I know what true love is with you, it only makes me angrier that they try to prove their love with that.”

Though his last statement had brought her cheeks warm and rendered her heart a bit mushy, she could feel herself deflate immensely. She couldn’t force him to an event that he didn’t want to attend -- he never made her accompany him to the two hour long meetings he was often stuck in, how could she make him come with her? It was long and albeit beautiful, the ceremony was rather boring, and the receptions could either be really fun or terrible, and the wedding cake -- god, you have to pray that they didn’t spend hundreds on something that tasted grocery store quality at best. But she hadn’t been to one in so long and there was some part of her that secretly loved them, even if she didn’t technically participate as anything but a face for the bridesmaid’s to look out at when they were trying to keep their mind off their cramping feet. She supposes that she could go with her friends or tag along with Niall and his date, but neither would be as fun as she thinks it would be with Harry, no matter his grumpy nature.

“Regardless of my distaste for them, I will attend with you,” he adds a few moments after his initial tirade and Y/N looks up, a new light in her step when she realizes he is looking at her, “I’m interested in how they have changed over time, and I don’t like when you look disheartened by something I’ve said. Wipe that sad little pout of your mouth my love.”

She sucks her bottom lip back into her mouth, biting down on a smile, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to though -- don’t want to force you into it.”

Harry pauses his cooking, walking towards where she sits on the counter and parting her legs for him to fit between, hands remaining on her thighs, “Would going to this wedding make you happy?” He inquires and when she nods, he strokes her skin with his thumbs, the metal of his rings coaxing goosebumps to the surface, “Then I will go. Little human, if you are happy, I am happy, however I do request you let me feed from the tender flesh of your thigh as my repayment for enduring such an interminable proclamation of human love. And that you do not make me dance.”

Y/N agrees to both happily, grinning wide and slipping her arms around his neck, peppering kisses onto his cheeks in rapid succession, “You can suck me dry through my thighs if you want to! And no dance floor shenanigans, promise.”

She had her fingers crossed around his head though -- she could get him on the dancefloor she bets.

Harry allows her kisses before puckering his own lips, and Y/N pushes their mouths together. It only lasts but a moment though, because Harry slips from her hold and pats on her thighs, “Now get off the counter, I need the space for the rest of the food.”

                                                     .                           .                          .

The day of the wedding, Y/N woke up at 7AM to an already showered and partially dressed Harry fixing up the buttons on his white blouse. Perhaps she was a bit melodramatic, since the wedding didn’t start until 10AM and they were maybe just a half hour away from the venue, but she scrambled from the bed. “Why didn’t you wake me?” She had cried out, trying to wipe the sleep from her eyes and detangle from the cotton sheets spread over her bed, “We’re g’na be late!”

“You told me not to wake you until 7:05.” He had reminded her, “I woke early so that you would have ample space and time in the shower.”

She pauses on her way to the bathroom because she remembers this very distantly and the fact that he had woken earlier than needed to get ready himself, makes her reroute to where he stood in front of her mirror. Kissed him quickly, murmured a quick, “Thank you, love you,” as her apology for panicking, before she scattered to back to the bathroom. In a haste she showers, shaves, lotions up, washes her face, brushes her teeth, and does her hair in the course of forty minutes. She walks out of her bathroom to be met with Harry taking her dress from where it hung freshly pressed on the door (he’d insisted on it, even if it was just a floaty floral number), holding it until she could pull up a pair of underwear on and wrestle with a bra.

“Slow down,” he commands gently when she rushes to grab the dress from him, holding it just out of her reach, “We have plenty time, Little human, we’re not the ones getting married.”

Which -- well, that was true, she supposes. Something about having an event to go to makes her a little jittery, moving too quickly and rushing; it’s like homecoming and prom all over again, only this time she had a vampire boyfriend who was incredible at handling stressful moments, carefully helping her into her dress. He took a glittery necklace he’d bought her from her jewelry dish atop of her dresser, and slid it around her throat and clipped the two ends together. A vampire boyfriend who also sweetly reminded her to take her iron supplement because, “Tonight, m’getting between those thighs lovely.”

The drive was alright; there was some traffic and she’d been worried when she saw how backed up the highway had been, but they got there forty minutes before the ceremony and secured a spot near the front where Niall had saved them seats. Harry entertained her with stories of Queen Victoria and Prince Albert, and also trying to act as human-like as he can when they have any sort of interaction with the people around them. Like when Y/N spots another old friend (Adaline) sat in front of them and they begin chatting, catching up some at where they were in life, and who the men sitting beside them were. She’d  made the comment, “What do you guys think of the venue? It’s lovely.”

Harry had answered unprompted, as he hadn’t really spoken much in their conversation other than, “It isn’t St. James Palace, but I suppose it’s fine. Hope she can stand up to the likes of Queen Victoria.”

Y/N’s eyes had widened, a dribble of panic slipping down her spine because she wasn’t ready to give the fake “he reads history books in his free time” explanation that he’d given Niall over Harry’s outlandish comments, but she doesn’t have to. Adaline only laughs, shaking her head and pointed her finger at Y/N, “Course you would find someone with the same sense of humor as you, lucky dog. Adam can never tell when m’joking or not.”

She has to pretend that she isn’t concerned that her joking sounds like Harry’s very serious tone but merely patted Harry’s thigh, giving it a loving squeeze, and when she looks to him he is smiling to himself. He rather enjoyed when people found him funny, and what he enjoyed even more, was Y/N trying to dig their way out of a ditch he’d begun digging them.

The ceremony was beautiful; Caroline looked stunning in her dress, a proper gown embellished with beading and lace appliques fitted to her torso and fanning out into the longest train Y/N doesn’t think she’s seen in real life before. Harry held her hand during the duration of it and swipes away the tear that had beaded to her eye when they began reading their vows and the groom got choked up. Even pulled her close to him, and despite his previous adversity to weddings, this one seemed to be getting him a bit mushy himself. She reckons if they hadn’t been in public, he would have purred for her as he’s so fond of doing when he’s feeling immense love for her.

Her reception was in the same building, so they only had to go a floor up to enter it. She met up with Niall and a few of their mutual friends, got to gush to Caroline about how beautiful the wedding was and how incredible she looked, and kept Harry at her side. He spoke when he was spoken to but otherwise he was quiet and when he’d ventured off to get them more champagne, Gina -- who also shared film studies with them -- leaned in, “He’s giving me strong Edward Cullen vibes, babe -- he moves, you move, silent probably broody type, definitely gorgeous,” she laughed as she continued, “Is he a vampire or something?”

Y/N’s blood ran cold when she forced a laugh, shaking her head letting a lie slip easily from her tongue, “No, no, just shy is all. He’s a bit of a writer so he likes observing people -- can characterize them better.”  

Niall snorts, taking a drink from his flute, “Shy until someone challenges his history knowledge, that’s for sure -- grade A smart lad has a damn book of information as a brain.”

Before they could say anymore, Harry reappeared with her drink, “They’re attacking the cake like vultures to a carcass, I think I may need to break an old woman’s finger to get a slice. Would you like one?”

She’d tricked him into dancing as well, locking their fingers and dragging him out to the floor in the middle, “You promised!” He protested but Y/N had already started moving side to side a little dramatically to get him to smile past his frown.

“Had my fingers crossed!” She let him know delightedly and after some coaxing and the whispered promise that she would throat him later (weddings made her all sorts of soppy and soft, which in turn made her an eensy bit greedy for Harry, and being greedy is simultaneous with cuddly and horny), she got him moving at least a little. She’d coached him through the Cha Cha Slide, had improvised a dance to Papa Loves Mambo, and serenaded him with a lovely rendition of Can’t Take My Eyes Off You. By the time the bride threw her bouquet (which Niall’s date had caught, Niall’s eyes widened comically, and Y/N decides then she’s going to tease his ass to shreds about it), Y/N was feeling the full effect of her champagne and Harry was gaining a contact high from her giddiness. Even the slow songs were nice, as Harry showed her how it’s done exactly (because she’d never been arsed to learn herself), and pulled out some moves that he remarked Queen Victoria would have blushed at (“Times were simpler then, my Love”).

The whole night was so enjoyable and fun and by the time that it was through, she doesn’t think either of them wanted to leave. “We should start crashing weddings,” Y/N had decided on their chilly walk back to the car around , just as Harry revealed a plate with another plate over the top of it that he’d been covering with his coat, “What’s that then?”

“I stole you cake,” he answered, taking off the top plate and showing the five slices that had been hidden, “You enjoyed it thoroughly and they were just going to throw it away but wouldn’t let me take the entire thing, so I took as many as would fit.”

Y/N might have never been more in love with him than she was in that moment.

On their way back, as they both cooled down from the excitement of the reception and Harry was navigating the post wedding traffic while Y/N nursed the stolen cakes in her hand, they were relatively quiet. Harry was worrying his lip between his teeth like he was thinking on something, and Y/N was too worn out to bother him about it until he opened up as she usually does. Though he told her soon enough, once they finally pulled off on the exit that would take them back home.

“I enjoyed that much more than I thought I would,” he told her truthfully and she smiled.

“Good.”

“I would enjoy if we had a big party,” he continued, and Y/N’s once drooping eyes shoot open, “Much like a wedding but without the ceremony, that was a bore. But a big party and we will invite many people and celebrate our love for one another. Would you be interested in that?”

Y/N’s soppy soft heart only gets soppier as she nods, reaching over so their hands locked where his rested on the middle console.

“I’d love that.”

                                      .                        .                     .

Once Harry and Y/N made it home, Y/N had taken what she believed to be a very well deserved nap in the passenger side, only waking to the gentle brush of his fingers to her cheek once they were parked, “Oh, sweet thing,” he’d hummed, “We’re home.” Harry was the best for waking people up, Y/N had decided long ago, because he’s nothing but sweet murmurs and soft caresses. When Niall woke her up in the mornings it was a plethora of pillow hitting and purported threats in the form of I swear to god, you little demon, I’ll write a love letter from you and give it to Professor Rollins. It was jarring and she was far undeserving of it (she only ever hit him will a pillow once and it was because he was already thirty minutes late) when she always wakes people up with careful shakes and promises of breakfast.

Harry is much sweeter towards her, coaxing her from her slumber with soft touches, peppered kisses against her cheek, murmuring pleasant words into her ear and nibbling at the lobe. It brings shivers down her spine and tickles goosebumps up her arms, to where she’s blinking her eyes open slow, adjusting to the light of the room and snuggling deeper into him. If it were a morning she had things to do, Harry would only appease her for a moment with back rubs and cuddles, “Wake up, little human,” he hummed sweetly, and when she replied she didn’t want to, he would assure her that as soon as she returned home they could nap together (which means Y/N will snore in his ear while Harry did whatever he did when she was sleeping and he wasn’t). If she had nothing to do, he would let her sleep in some but would tempt her with breakfast and smoothies.

So when she is reluctant to remove herself from the car, he’s as tender as he always is. Titters something she can’t quite make out before walking over to her side, reaching over to unbuckle her, before gathering her up in his arms. “Your species is such a sleep bunch,” he had commented, “Or maybe it's just my little human who is so tired?”

“Mhm,” she murmured, dipping her face into the column of his throat only then realising that he was carrying the cake plate with the hand of the arm tucked beneath her knees, “Still ready for you stuff me full of that big, thick —“ she begins to tease him but he cuts her off with a small pinch to her bum.

“Careful what you wish for, sweet thing,” he responded, not concerned in the slightest, “Haven’t been inside you for a while, might just split you in half.” He unlocks the door swiftly, twisting the knob and pushing it open, noticeably biting down on the inside of his lip when he feels Y/N shudder and nestle into him closer. She would very much like that, she decides, but she doesn’t think he will. One thing she had learned from him is that if he’s going to feed from her while and/or before they have sex, he prepares far before. The dinner he has is rich and full of nutrients, it’s not normally around a time in which she’s stressed, and it’s only if he’s sure she’s not too exhausted. Two of the three weren’t happening and she could feel from his grip that he was intending to feed from her as soon as they settle.

It’d been a while since he had fed from her; a few weeks at the very least. He didn’t enjoy doing it when she had finals to worry about so he had appeared to be pretty opposed to the fact, even though she continuously told him that it would be just fine if he did. So she knew he was starving -- parched for it -- and the tender flesh of the inside of her thighs, where the blood ran warm and his nose was tucked near another place he loved to frequent, she knew would be a treat after such a long period of wait.

Harry was brisk in his movements, setting the cake he’d taken down on the coffee table and almost immediately whisking her off to their bed. His pupils were blown a telling black that suggested his hungered state; it’s moments like this -- as he’s setting her down atop of the mattress, pushing the soft fabric of the dress up so it floated and fluttered around her hips with albeit precise coordination, eagerly -- that she remembers what he is. Not that him drinking her blood wasn’t its own telling indicator, but she often forgets that he is truly a whole different part of this world, one that nobody is quite aware of.

This should scare her. The way he pushes her thighs apart and settles happily in between, the dark of his eyes overshadowing the usual foamy, light green that they regularly were -- it should make her heart race out of fear that he might take it too far. Drain her of every ounce of blood until he’s satiated and full.

But she isn’t -- not in the slightest, because not only is he pushing sweet kisses to the skin and wrapping his arms around each thigh like a hug, he’s looking up at her like she had given him a star. Like she had single handedly flown to space, plucked one from the sky, and held it out for him to have and to hold. “Remember to tell me if it gets to be too much,” he reminds her as he always does, before he presses his nose to the skin and breathes in deep. His shoulders roll backward once as he nestles closer, his tongue dipping from his mouth to lick a stripe where he would bite as he always does. Goosebumps tickle up and down her arms and legs, her center giving a pulse in interest at the proximity in which he’s near her. It’s too much and not enough all at once, bristling beneath his attention, impatience and excitement fizzling through her veins as she awaits the first bit of pain.

She doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to it. The way the point of his teeth slides into her skin, two pricks much like a shot that she still flinches from. Harry notices her discomfort, using one of his hands to reach up towards her, slotting their fingers together with a soft squeeze as he latches his mouth around the point he’d chosen. He begins to suck from her, such an odd sensation that’s both terribly disconcerting and arousing all at once. A moan threatens at the back of her throat but she swallows it down in favor of hearing his own happy hum against her. Though he normally lacks color, the addition of blood into his system always tints his cheeks a rosy pink at first, and the way he holds onto her tighter, suckles sensually, and revels in the sweetness of the taste makes her tremble.

Y/N doesn’t start getting light headed until two to four minutes in and Harry can always tell -- parting from her with a soft, wet smack, lulling his tongue over the flesh he’d just been feeding from. This time instead of peeling back immediately as he usually does, he scoots forward and pulls the fabric of her panties to the side. Once again he breathes in deep, only this time he is slicking the broad of his tongue up from her hole up to her swollen clit, suckling it into his mouth. This time she is unable to keep her moan quiet, weakened thighs attempting to shut around his head, as he continues to lap at her petals.

“Harry,” she gasps, her back arching, her hips rolling up against his tongue where the clit slicks and slides around the swollen button, moving it side to side beneath, “Please, please don’t stop I --” her legs are shaking much more than she was expecting, reaching down with the hand that he wasn’t holding to burrow in his hair. The mix of spit and her juices was deliciously inviting, wet, messy and warm. Her heart pounded against her ribcage, the telling sign of an orgasm zipping up from the tips of her curled toes, and the light of it wraps around her thigh, around her hips, up through her torso and fanning out down towards her fingers and to the tips of each strand of hair atop her head.

He reaches down towards his cock, wiggling down the slick trousers so they bunch around his thighs as he slips his fingers around the stiff shaft and begins to twist and tug, only serving to make her moan even more against her. Her chest heaves with each breath, biting down on the inside of her cheek when he prods his tongue at her hole, licking inside her, slurping and drinking her up like he’d been born to do it. Almost like he’d been waiting for it since she’d promised him a bite of her thighs in exchange to go to the wedding. The sheer avidness and passion, how he takes hold of her clit between his lips, sucking hard and fast.

He encourages her with his gaze alone, nodding his head, a soft, “Mhm,” against her that had her insides undulating, and like a bubble of water that swells beneath immense pressure, it pops around her in a blinding wave of light. She cums on his mouth, shaking like a leaf -- a very well satisfied leaf -- as Harry licks and sucks and works her through it. Brings her back down from the clouds with soft, sweet kisses up her thighs, to the junction of her leg and hip, pushing kisses to her stomach, and skipping where her dress was still covering her to her mouth. When he kisses her he slips his tongue into her mouth so that he can taste her, nipping, and suckling at her lips before rubbing the tips of their noses together.

Harry pecks another kiss to her mouth before murmuring, “We ran out of cranberry juice this morning,” but before she could act even the tiniest bit elated, he continues, “Thank goodness I have a whole new case of it in my trunk.”

“Harry,” she pouts, but he reaches up and plucks at her bottom lip.

“Put that away,” he tuts his tongue, “If you drink it all, maybe I’ll get you off again, hmm?”  

[jokertrap-ran]

[Drama CD]   Kankin Danshi Vol.3 ～Amai Ori～ 監禁男子 Vol.3 ～甘い檻～

Company: CANDY CUBE CV: Teradake Jun (寺竹順)

*Commissioned by Anon , Thank you! *Spoiler free: Translations under cut *CD can be purchased via Animate here!

Commissions are OPEN!!

Track 1:

Ah, did I wake you? Sorry. I couldn’t sleep so I came to take a look at you. What’s the matter? Feeling lonely? If so, then I’ll stay here. Always.

Does your leg hurt…? Take the medicine in the morning. Come on, don’t pull a face like that.

Don’t worry, I’ll always be by your side.

Track 2:

Ah! Good morning. You’re awake? What’s wrong?

Where are you, you ask? Are you still half-asleep? This is my guest home. Who am I…? Even if you ask that...Eh? You really don’t know…? That’s harsh even for a joke… I’m your boyfriend, Uno Kyoya. I’m not asking this jokingly but, do you really not...remember me?

You don’t remember being in an accident either? A car ran into you and you got away with a sprained ankle and a periodical fever of sorts. We went to a doctor to get you checked up just in case but you were diagnosed to be fine. And we even came all the way here after that…

Do you remember yesterday at all? Vaguely, huh…

I wonder what happened…

We should go to the hospital again to get you checked if your head starts hurting or if you feel unwell at all.

Ahh, right...But your car’s currently being repaired…

It does take quite a while to get to the nearest hospital, but-- Y-Yeah, that’s not it at all, right? Sorry. Um... Haah…

Is there anything else that you remember? How about Satou? He was in the same class as us in university! Your friend, Ichikawa-san? Yeah, that’s right…

So you’ve really forgotten about nothing but me. So to the you now, I guess you’re meeting me for the first time? Oh, sorry! You’re the one who feels the most uneasy about this, right? 

We planned to live here for a while before you got into the accident. And after you got into the accident yesterday, it was a great opportunity to move in and we agreed to take it slow.

Do you want to tell someone about your memory loss? You said that you’d handle telling everyone about what happened after the accident and I don’t know your parents’ contacts.

Do you want to call them? I’ll bring your bag over.

Here. 

Do you not have your phone…? Hmm...I haven’t seen it. Your possessions are supposedly being sent here later, but I don’t think your phone will be in those boxes either. Let’s look for your phone later. You seem confused so how about resting a little more. Ah, wait...I’m sure you feel troubled being told by a stranger to rest but we’re really a couple. Just a little fine, but I want you to rely on me. It’s not an inconvenience at all! You’re the world’s best girlfriend to me and there’s no way I can leave you here while you’re like this! Don’t make such a sorry-looking face. Here, in any case, you should rest a little more. Don’t apologise. Yeah, see you later then.

Track 3:

Oh, you’re awake? Oh no, you don’t have to force yourself to get up and walk around. I’ll get it for you so just stay put. And also, pardon me for a bit. Heh, it’s faster this way so keep still. I’ll carry you to the table. 

Hm? Why? You’re not heavy at all.

Ah...Heh. That’s true. Of course you’d be surprised if I did something like this so suddenly. Sorry.

Here, sit down. For starters, I tried making your favourite dish. Feel free to dig in, take a taste test. You’re hungry, aren't you? Just a bite’s fine, so try it out? How is it? It’s not bad…? Thank god! Here, feel free! 

When I failed when I first tried my hand at making it, remember? And so I've kept practicing to get it right ever since. I can never forget the face you pulled back then when you took a bite. You really should have just told me straight that it was bad, but you still ate everything. Ahh...Sorry for bringing up something that you don’t remember. RIght! Is there anything you’d like to ask? That’s fine I’ll answer any questions you have.

How did we meet? Right… I guess you must be wondering when this all started. I met you during the university entrance ceremony. You might not remember but you actually picked up something that I dropped by accident, that was when we first met. And then, we ended up attending the same lectures and got to know each other, became friends and started talking. I was the one who confessed. I was admittedly a little stubborn about it and made it seem to be like a work of fate itself. Then we became lovers and graduated from university. And we’re still together even after the both of us found jobs and got employed. I’m now a freelance programmer, working on softwares on contracts and even making my own programmes. 

Haha, you always say that I’m unfair because I can work on things whenever I want. And you..Well, you seemed like you enjoyed your job, but...You also seemed to be troubled about something as of late. You didn’t tell me anything about it and seemingly sank into the abyss of whatever it was that you were worrying about alone so I was really worried. I was actually thinking of taking the opportunity to propose to you. But...I felt like I couldn’t just push that onto you when you’re there, troubled and worrying over something that you couldn’t even share with me.

I was always...always worried. I don’t want to leave you. Ah! Sorry...I guess I got too close to you. Um, well...If you don’t mind...Could I stay with you? It’s fine even if it’s only till you recover your memories. Even if you don’t get your memories back...That still doesn't change the fact that I love you. 

Thank you. Once again, I’ll be under your care from now on, I hope we get along.

Track 4:

It’s already 12. Do you feel sleepy? Let’s do other things later. And well, after that...We could get off the mountain and go outside for some fresh air. How about a movie? Umm...Of course, that’s only if you’re alright with being together with me. You don't have to force yourself to do it just because you’re my girlfriend. You still can’t remember anything, right? Thank you.

I’ll make sure you don’t bored! And also, in hopes of you getting your memory back soon…

Oh, right! Want to go see the stars? You’ll have to get to the 2nd floor in order to do that so, do you mind me carrying you up? Here, come on. I can get you all the way up there.

The stairs here aren’t that steep so it’s not a problem at all. Heh, it’s fine. I won’t drop you, don’t worry. That door there’s my room. There’s a complicated computer system and server set up in there so don’t go randomly touching anything in there, alright? 

Here we are. The winds are cold even at night, huh. You alright? How’s it. Maybe it’s because we’re deep in the mountains but it feels like the sky’s closer to us than ever. You know something about that star over there? Well, it’s probably a constellation. 

Beautiful, isn’t it? Ah...Sorry. I was just wondering if you remembered anything. I thought that just being together was enough...Well, that’s fine...Even if your memories are gone forever, we just have to start here all over again.

Ah...You don't have to stick so close to me if you don’t feel comfortable with it. You feel bad about it…? I’m really grateful that you want to remember everything, but...Are you sure you aren’t pushing yourself? ...Really? 

Whoa!! Are you okay? It’s rather easy to slip over here. Sorry for getting so close to you.

Heh, it’s fine. Let go of my hand? You’re find with holding it? Alright...Me too. I don’t want to let you go either.

Are you nervous? Me too. How was living together? Were you taken aback that someone like me was actually your boyfriend? Really? But...I’m really glad that you think that way! You think that it’s okay to start anew even with someone like me? 

Thank you! I’m really happy…! I love you. More so than anyone else, so much more. Yeah...You don't have to say anything. I just felt like saying so. Oh no, this is bad, If you get so close to me...I’d want to kiss you. Is it okay? I’m...I’m serious. Really?

Did you remember something? That’s fine. I’m glad that you’re even letting me kiss you like this.

Ah...Really...You’re just so cute! I love you, I really do. Did you know how I felt when I heard that you got into an accident? I didn't even know If I could ever hold or feel you in my arms ever again...I didn't know what I’d do if you disappeared for my life.

No...There's no need to think of these things anymore right? We’re both here right now. 

Just the fact that you;re still looking up to me’s enough…

Track 5:

Ah! Morning! Sorry, I overslept because I was working till late. You’re making breakfast? Thanks! You need the eggs? I’ll fetch it! It’s alright. Even if you’re able to walk for an extended period of time now, that still doesn't change the fact that you still need to get as much rest as you can. Here you go. Is there still anything else that you require? Can I watch you work from the sidelines then?

You’re apt at this. You’re really much more used to doing these things than me, huh. Let me cook dinner, I’ve acquired a good portion of things through this morning. Next is...the bread?  Let me do it. Don’t worry, just take a seat. Right! Remember how I said that your possessions were being sent over here before? They’re all due to arrive today. You were planning on moving out before hand so I thought we could take the opportunity to move in together. But...Feel free to move out whenever you wish, if you feel like it. Still, I honestly want you to stay. 

Of course! I always want you here! Ah, um...Maybe not always, but as much as you can…? Is that okay? Thank you! Yeah, I’m elated. Oh right! You’ll have to shift the stuff in your room to accommodate the things that are being delivered right? I’ll help you unpack once they are here!

Ah- Whoa!! What’s wrong? You alright? You’re clinging on rather tightly to me. I guess we can head to the living room first? 

Sorry for being late. Something came up on the way back so I had to take the longer route. You must have felt uneasy, being left alone for such a long time. You don't have to cling that hard to me...I won’t go anywhere. What should I do...Even though I’m worried, I’m still happy. To think you’d worry about me, about what you’d do if I wasn’t around anymore. 

It’ll be fine. I’ll always stay by your side.

Ah...Sorry! I couldn’t help myself. You’ll catch a cold, all drenched like that. Go get changed. Ah- Did you just kiss me? You did, didn’t you? Are you playing around with me? Don’t look at me like that...Okay?

I’m sure that there must be times where you feel like touching me even though your real feelings have yet to catch up with your current state of mind...Then...I guess we’re of the same mind right now?

I want to touch you even more. 

Ahh...The warmth of another person’s really warm. I can feel it even more acutely so because I’ve been walking in the rain before this. 

Really, you have to let go of me so...Um, you’re a really lovely person and all but I don’t think you can even begin to understand how much I have to hold back just by being around you like this. Not just when we’re holding hands, but even when we brush each other through skin contact. I’ve always been holding back against my urges of wanting to touch you more, to feel you. 

Do you hate me now…? Even if you crane your neck ever so cutely like that...I’m still troubled. I don’t know what I’ll do.

Even if you tell me to stop...There’s no way I can do it when I’m in this state.

Sorry for doing it in a place like this but...There’s no way I can hold on all the way till we reach the bed. Please, resist if you don’t want this. 

I love you. 

I’ll continue, okay?

It tickles? Your ears really are weak, huh. What a cute voice. Does it feel good? I can see the front of your chest hardening. I want to lick here too...Your chest, your back, and even the soft skin you have...All of it, relentlessly. I want to pepper kisses all over them, suck it. So much that no place is left untouched, over and over. Hehe, did you visualise it? How cute.

Are you feeling it? Even before this all happened, I really, personally, want to touch your skin.

Your skin’s really hot to the touch, it feels great. 

I’m just rubbing against it but it feels really amazing...Both mine and yours are all a mess. Oh no, this is bad. Just this is enough to get me off. Your body’s really twitching, huh. Must feel good. It’s so very soft and hot...

I think I might be reaching my limit…? I’ll put it in.

You alright? Just a little more. It went in...It feels so good I think I might come undone.

Your face is really red, how cute

If you pull such an expression...I don’t think I can hold myself back even if I wanted us to take this slow. 

More...I want to feel you closer! I love you. More so than anyone else.

Are you okay? We’ve really worked up a sweat  but it still feels great...I’m in bliss.

If only this moment we share together can go on forever.

Are you awake? No, not at all. Not much time has passed actually. Maybe about half an hour?

Ahaha! If you make such a unguarded face, I’d want to kiss you again. 

Come to think of it, your possessions have arrived, right? I’ll help you out with them tomorrow. It would be great if you managed to remember something about us then. I wonder if you have a picture of us together or something lying around? 

Even when you say “let’s take a picture together!”, you’d always get too embarrassed about it in the end that it never got done. Hmm...Ah! There it is! This is a photo from our university days. Heh, there are so many photos of us from back then! That’s right, these are all taken by me. I was really bad back in university, so much that I did a good load of really stupid things. But, you managed to stop me back then when I got hold of a really fishy and suspicious job that supposedly paid well. I think you thought that I was really naive and all back then, but...That alone saved me. Yeah, I don’t think you’ll remember even if you tried to. That was how bad I really was back then. But,,,From that they onwards, you really became my only beacon of light. An existence above all else, someone much more important to me. That’s who you were.

Track 6: 

Alright! I guess I’ve managed to clean things up a bit!

What’s wrong? DId something happen? A diary…? Oh-! Err, right! I didn’t know that you had one…

I see. Ah, no, I’m alright! It would be great if you remembered something through reading it. I mean- It’s your private matters that are being written in that diary so it wouldn’t be morally right if I were to read it too. I’m fine, really. You can go through it first. I don’t want to read it!

Ah- Sorry… In any case, I’m really sorry. I’ll be on the 2nd floor if you need me.

What’s wrong? Does your leg hurt? I’d have gone down if you just called for me. Anyway, come in. Ahh...There’s no place to sit, huh. How about taking a seat on the bed? Did you read the diary? Did you understand the feelings you felt before you lost your memory? Was it written in there? THe feelings of love you harboured for that guy? Do you feel like getting out of this house again…? Or do you not even want to see my face anymore? I’ll apologize. But...I just wanted you, no matter what! You’re...You don’t know, you don’t understand just how much I love you! If it’s to get my hands on you, to have you, to hold you...I’d do anything. 

So...I know that it’s bad but if you’re not here, I-! Eh…?

Why are you surprised…? Was there something written inside the diary? It was written that you loved me…? 

No way… There’s no way, there's no way something like that would be written in there…! Can I...Can I read it…? It’s true...That’s my name that’s written there.

“I realized that I really did love him during the time I spent with him, accepting him and being loved by him.”...So it is written. Really? Something like this...To think that you really wrote something like this inside your diary...This has never happened before.

We weren’t actually an official couple in any way. There was actually someone else you loved out there but...You lost to my zealousness and reluctantly came to accept me and come to terms with it…

I know that I said that I loved you...But you never did reciprocate my feelings so I was starting to think that it was hopeless to be pining for you. Even when I heard that you had kept a diary, I couldn’t help but to feel that way. Because...I thought that there was no way you’d feel the same, much less even pen that down. I thought that this would be the end for us if you so much as found out that I was actually hiding something from you. Sorry for being weak…

You’re the only one out there who’d say that it’s fine even after everything. Even if I lost you again, I was glad that you accepted me. Really...You’re so kind. Knowing that I have someone as selfless as you by my side really makes me happy. I’m not kind at all...The things I’ve done...They’re all because I love you. Hey, tell me. What do you really think? What do you really feel? Regardless of how the past you thought, regardless of what’s written in that diary of yours...

…!! R-Really…? You’re okay with this…? 

It’s the first time I’m hearing all of this...And also, to find out that you loved me even before you lost all your memories…

Ah..Haha! I see...Then, we’re really finally reciprocating each other’s feelings? It’s mutual?

I love you. I always did.

Track 7:

I don’t want to leave you, even if it’s only just for a bit. I love you. 

These eyes, lips, skin, body and heart...Become mine?  They already got all perky. Feels good? How sweet. The last time wasn’t enough. I want to kiss and lick even more areas now. Come on now, don’t close your legs on me. Show me everything? That’s right, what a good girl. I’ll coddle you lots so long as you stay obediently so. 

Does it feel good? You get all twitchy when I lick this place here. 

What? You want to lick mine too? Yes, of course. I’m okay with it, in fact, I’m elated. How about you get on top of me then? And turn your ass here. Let me see all of your embarrassing parts.

Feels nice...Being licked, I mean. That’s right, palm the bottom. I’ll make you feel good too. 

It’s dripping...I’ll mix it all up inside with my finger. Harder...That’s fine. I’ll add more fingers for you. Whoa, your hips are trembling. Words can’t even begin to convey how sexy that is. You can come, you know? Have you become relaxed now? I look forward to what’s coming. 

This place here...It’s twitching so very much, almost as if enticing me to hurry and enter it. 

Heh, is just the entrance fine? I wanted to put it in, and do it properly at least once. That’s right, to go in deeper, as deep as it can. That’s right, I’ll put it in for you. A little more…

It’s in. It’s all twitchy even though I haven’t even made a move yet...Can you tell how hard I am? How cute… I want to bury myself as deep as I can, quick. That’s fine, you did tell me that you loved me, didn’t you. Do you really love me? More...Say it more, please...Tell me that you love me! 

Don’t look at me like that. The one who’s so happy that tears might fall from their eyes is me…

I won’t let go of you anymore…! More…Open your mouth?

There’s no way I’ll ever let you forget about me anymore. I love you.

Track 8:

“I can’t...not anymore. I won’t let you go, I can’t let you go!”

What are you doing? Oh, a camera? How sharp of you to notice one. That’s right, I left it out.

Still, really now...Even after I told you not to touch the things in my room. How naughty of you to not listen to what I told you to do. Why, you ask. I’m just worried about you. I’ll be able to watch over you in case anything happens if I put a surveillance camera in the rooms, no?

Is it wrong of me to want to watch over and protect the person I love? That’s scary, you say? How mean of you. It's a recording of our love. I was always worried, right from the get-go, right from when I first met you up till now. I’ve been watching over you. And all the recordings I have of you up till now are all very much treasured. 

I mean, we’re lovers, aren’t we? You thought it was weird? What was?

Isn’t it fine that we don’t even have a single photo of us together? Because I’ve got loads of pictures that I’ve taken of you. Right! Here. Your phone. I’ve been keeping hold onto it but I guess I can return it to you now that our feelings are mutual. I mean, I had no choice but to keep your phone with me since I thought you’d try to contact some other guy out there that wasn’t me. 

Why do you look so terrified? You remembered? What did you remember? Ahh...You remembered everything up till the point where you tried to escape from this place? I see, well, well. I guess it’s a failure again. To think that I finally managed to make you fall for me now, only for you to remember the unnecessary memories from the past…

I wonder why it didn’t go smoothly? I thought we could finally be happy together this time. That’s right. Didn't I tell you so? There’s something I haven't yet told you. The fact that you were in an accident is true, but that was half a year ago. The leg injury you suffered from was from back when you tried to flee from here.

Ahh...Really now. You were happily writing in your diary the last time. And this time, you finally said that you loved me for the first time. Why do you always try to run from me? Even though I love you and just want to keep watch over you to protect you. Say, If you remember me, then you must have remembered what caused the accident half a year ago. That man you were with half a year ago...He betrayed you and you wallowed within the pits of despair. You despaired so much...That you jumped right in front of a car. Do you know how I felt? Witnessing all of that first-hand?

That was the first time I regretted the part of myself that was satisfied with just watching the events unfold. The choice that I made back then, when faced with you, all teary and wishing for death...It wasn’t wrong. I thought of trapping you in a world, one where the two of us could be happy, so long as it meant that I wouldn’t lose you. I’d do anything, if it meant having you within my grasp. I won’t hand you over to a guy like that. I’ll make you happy.

Alright, that’s all. Let’s redo this again. I won’t let you run away this time. Become mine.

No! Don’t run! Tsk. You’re a good girl so...Don’t cry. Just swallow. It’s just a sleeping pill. It’s one that’s commonly found and can be bought over the counter. But even so, it’s a little different from the usual ones.

At first, you’ll forget all the pain and sadness and then you’ll start to feel happy. But after taking it for a while, you’ll be able to forget anything that you wish to forget. Want another pill? 

See? Forget about all the bad things. If you do that...Then we can be happy. I’ll give you lots of it to swallow. We’re going to attain happiness from now on.

Come on now. Why are you trying to flee? Even after I’ve doted on you so. I wonder if there’s not enough drugs in your system. You’re only allowed to be on this bed, understand?

Don’t cry, okay? I’ll make you feel great. I notice that you’re edging and angling yourself towards me. Come now, If you want me to touch you, then how about you spread open yourself?

Heh, you’re dripping. To think that you ended up in this sorry state just from one little kiss. Lewd, don’t you say? Do you want me to stroke your insides? How cute~ Do you want me inside you? 

If so then, I’m sure you remember what you should say. Say it more, more...Tell me that you love me. Well done. A good girl deserves a reward. Spread your legs further. I’m taking head.

It went in deep, huh. You don’t want it? Why? Don’t you like me messing you all up from deep within? Let me...Let me hear more of your voice.

I’ve gotten sick and tired…! Of hearing you say no, stop and the like…! From now on, I only wish to hear that you like me, that you love me! And next, we’ll definitely be happy together!

What? I love you...I love you. Once this is over, let’s start all over from the beginning, okay?

Ah, did I wake you? Sorry. I couldn’t sleep so I came to take a look at you. Who am I, you ask...Are you still half-asleep? What’s wrong? You feel uneasy? If so then I’ll stay here forever. It’ll be alright. There’s nothing scary here so rest assured, for I’ll always be by your side. What a good girl you are. Good night...

Track 9:

Good morning. You awake? Ack-! W-What? Why are you angry all of a sudden? What’s wrong? Did you have a nightmare? It’s alright, even if it’s scary, I’m sure that’s just a dream-- Ack!

Could it be that...No way. Did you remember it all? Why...I mean, didn’t you forget everything up till now!? You love me? But you remembered it...didn’t you…? Even all the things that I’ve done. All of it?

There’s no way you’d still love me even after remembering all those things that I’ve done! Ah...No! Take your medicine. You’ll forget everything that troubles you so long as you take it! I mean, it worked for me…

Did you...remember that? That’s right. At that time, I couldn’t get myself off these drugs the last time. So much that I even became a dealer of them in order to pay it off to get some of it for myself. I betrayed you, with my actions, with what I’ve done. It didn’t hurt at all, but...For some odd reason, you were so bright at that time. So dazzling, that I couldn’t advert my eyes. I see...So you remembered. I thought that I was never within your league. That’s why I tried to protect you. I really wonder why you told me that you loved me. Someone like me. I’m not kind at all. In fact, I did nothing at all. It was just a coincidence that I protected you from that burly man. The fact that I stuck with you for so long even after you accident...It was all because I just wanted to protect you. I felt the need to...When I saw you in tears. I did something so idiotic...And I’m sorry. It’s fine even if you don’t forgive me. I’m still glad to hear you say that you love me. 

Don’t kiss me so gently. Why do you...Why did you save someone like me? I love you. I really do...Thank you.