#feeling sad and tender and miserable for him tonight friends

[remyfire]

[sl33paholics]

Her Tender Touch

Gina Paulklee x black!fem! reader

Warning(s): strap on usage, oral (eating out), teasing, bounding, drunk sex, praise kink

I am so fucking sorry for taking DAYS to post something but GOSH! School had me in a chokehold and I lost motivation for a while but I'm HERE 🗣‼️

The sound of light rain hitting the windows was washed out by the chatter and noise from the bar around her. The loud music was blasting from speakers, and a few of the guys at the tables had gotten into it by now. "The usual?" asked a bartender, who had come over to take their drink orders. It was Friday night. (Y/N)'s favorite day of the week.

"Yes, please," you said, giving him a smile that he returned before walking back behind the bar. You leaned against the counter watching the scene around you as people came in and went out, your attention going towards outside the window before the bartender reappeared and handed you a tall glass filled with yellow creamy liquid that he had just poured for the other customers. He smiled again, "Enjoy."

"Piña Colada, how typical." You'd turn your attention to a tall, short hair, blonde woman huffing a cigarette with a short glass of Mai Tai in front of her. "Gina..." She turned to look at you, taking another drag off her cigarette before glancing away again. "Gina, I wasn't expecting to see you here tonight, or, at all really.'' You took a sip of your own drink and tried not to grimace at its bitterness. You'd always hated pineapple on ice, even though you loved the taste.

It was too fruity and sugary for you. "What brings you here?" You'd asked the woman as she took a sip. Gina shrugged nonchalantly, but there was something about the way she held herself that made you think that maybe there was more than she let on. She glanced around before looking back at you with a soft smile that somehow made her eyes look even brighter than normal. Were you seeing things? "I haven't seen you in...forever, fifteen years?" Gina shook her head, letting out a bitter chuckle. "But then again, why should we stumble across each other when we're both stuck living our miserable lives, huh?" Gina downed her drink in one gulp. "Let's get out of here. I don't feel like being cooped up in this god forsaken place any longer. Drinks at my place." The woman would stand up heading towards the door, watching her walk outside. You quickly paid for both of your drinks before rushing out as you mindlessly trailed behind her.

The walk was quiet. It was so different from the last time you saw Gina, what felt like forever ago. But you still weren’t used to her presence. Not in the same way you had been accustomed to it all those years ago when she was just a friend. Back then, it had been comforting having her close to you. Back then, her company seemed almost necessary to have. Her presence alone could make your life much easier. Now she was just some stranger. One whom you didn’t know anything about. And yet…you couldn’t shake the feeling that she knew you better than you knew yourself.

The two of you made it to her place. The silence was killing you as you followed her to her spacey room. She grabbed a bottle of Cognac from her dresser and began pouring into two shot glasses. “You want some?” She looked up at you as she sat down on the edge of her bed, watching you nod slowly. Her eyes softened, making you wonder if you had imagined it when she smiled faintly at you, “How have you been?” You sighed quietly, slightly fidgetting in your spot. “Well... I'm meeting you after years of no contact, so I guess you can say I'm..kinda scared but excited.” Gina nodded at you in understanding. “And you've got to be pretty fucking terrified of me if you're here, don't you?” She laughed softly. You could sense an undercurrent of bitterness in her voice, but you didn't want to ask for clarification. Gina ploped next to you with the bottle in her hand, her gaze never leaving yours. “Now, no need to be a sad sack, (Y/N), we'll talk over this with drinks, yes?" You nodded numbly, and Gina passed you a shot glass.

You don't remember what had happened between the two of you after drinking those shots of Cognac. All you remembered is your clothes were on the floor and your wrists being tied up to the bed frame, your body raiding the heat you felt from the liquor. Your breathing was heavy as you felt Gina's hands gripping onto your thighs. Her sensual kisses up and down your inner thighs made you shudder. Gina's thumb rubbing your clit in a circle motioned for you to arch your back as she licked her lips. You moaned slightly, feeling your pussy dripping hot wetness on the bedsheets. Removing her thumb and replacing it with her mouth, she gently kissed your clit , making you groan as you felt her tongue flicking at your folds. You whimpered as she lapped at your clit having her tongue roll it around counter-clockwise in circles until you couldn't handle anymore. You were so close. You needed her. You wanted her. You needed to be fucked.

Your mind was in a haze. You weren't sure what was real and what wasn't. But one thing you knew for certain was that Gina Paulklee was going to be the death of you. “Gina, I’m gonna cum,” you gasped, your legs involuntarily tensing. Gina stopped her sucking and pulled away from you, “Not quite yet, love,” she grinned at you, leaning forward, “but soon~” she whispered seductively as she kissed your lips lightly. You watched her walk away to her closet to grab some things, a dazed smile on your face. Gina had never called you 'love', you hadn't expected that, but hearing her call you that made you feel warm inside. You wondered how long you'd have to wait before you could finally feel her again, staring at the ceiling as you watched the room spin slowly around you.

You felt her hands grip your cheeks to turn your face to meet hers, and her lips met yours. Gina kissed you hungrily, her lips were swollen, red, and everything about her made you want to break free from the rope even more. Gina bit your lip hard enough to bruise, and you whimpered in pleasure, feeling your arousal growing with every passing second. Gina pulled away from you, panting. You stared at her, unable to speak, your thoughts racing as you processed everything happening around you.

Gina then climbed on top of you, seeing the size of the strap that was rubbing against your pussy as she smirked, “Do you like this?” She whispered huskily, running her hands along your sides before cupping your ass and pulling your hips towards her, pressing it against herself. "You like the jock harness? You like this? Let me show you how nice and easy it will be once I'm inside of you…" Gina lifted your leg up, forcing it around her waist so she was seated right at the opening. The light-haired blonde woman slowly pushed the tip inside of you , pushing her hips back as you bucked into her.

"Fuck… Gina, please -" You moaned, the familiar warmth pooling in the center of your stomach. "Oh, baby girl, you're mine, aren't you?"

(Y/N) panted heavily, the sheets underneath them damp and tangled with her sweat. You watched as Gina helped you adjust, leaning over to kiss down your chest before resting her chin on your shoulder, "So beautiful... So sexy... keep making those noises, I love your voice." She began to lick and suck on your skin, causing your breath to hitch in anticipation.

Gina thrusted against you causing you to gasp loudly, "Fucking Christ!"

"So good," she purred against your skin. She pressed her breasts against you. You clenched your jaw. "Yes Gina…" You felt her nipples pressing into your chest. "Please."

Surprisingly, she was gentle with you. Considering you're not a virgin and had experience with women, you weren't exactly prepared for such gentleness. You thought she would be rough, but you enjoyed her touch, her lips against your skin, her finger teasing your clit. "Who's my beautiful woman? Mhm~ such a fantastic body..." The only problem was you couldn't seem to stop yourself from moaning as she continued to thrust.

Her movements were beginning to get sloppy, and you could hear the sounds of her breathing quickening. Gina shifted her position on top of you, causing you to moan louder when she pushed herself completely inside of you. "Take it all, baby. I know you can, just like that." A deep guttural sound left your throat as Gina began moving faster and harder against you, thrusting against you with increasing speed.

"Come for me...come for me baby.." You were getting closer to the brink of coming, and it wasn't long before your entire body felt electrified and your mind was blank. "You were incredible," Gina panted, moving her lips up and down your neck, trailing her teeth there. “God..you drive me crazy, you know that?” She growled. “I know.” You replied quietly, watching her undo the rope from your wrists.

Feeling too weak to move, you just laid there looking up at the ceiling and waiting for your heartbeat to come back to normal, which it did a moment later. As the fog in your head cleared, you realized how much time spent just dozing off. "Gina?" (Y/N) looked around the darkened bedroom, finding nothing but darkness. You could barely see her figure laying right next to you. "Go back to sleep." You felt her arms wrapping themselves around your torso, her cheek on your arm.

[jedijourneys]

Kallia’s Journal; Entry Three

There's a warmth in the air, a tender breeze that brushes gently across marred skin. It brings with it the smell of mountain air, lush valleys, and blooming flowers that sway upon the banks of glistening rivers and waterfalls that reflect the sun like hopeful beacons. The weather on Tython had always been pleasant, not as sweltering as Tatooine, but today it was a bit different. There was a sweetness in the wind. The satisfaction of my own developing comfort. Where a week ago I had been stoic and uncertain, I could now smile without a tense jaw. The memories still haunt me, grim contemplations that drift like ghastly visions through my dreams at night, but things are changing, there is a lightness to my spirit, and a crushing weight that seems to be lifting from my shoulders.

I think I like it here.

I hadn't realized how much I had been keeping to myself, before. Now I speak freely, happy to hop into the nearest conversation, to introduce myself to the other Initiates, to wave at those who pass, to smile at those who listen. I can feel the familiarity of my old spirit creeping back into my life, from a time where I laughed, and dreamed carefree. A time before the attack. The world seems so different now. I always knew there was chaos in the galaxy, wicked, selfish people and governments that were all too happy to steal from those they ruled. I suppose it was just less obvious before, not so much as pressing an issue in my mind.

I miss those days. A bittersweet sweet sort of missing. A missing that makes me glad it all happened.

Sharing our food with that twi'lek family who were always willing to share their stories of different worlds. Wrestling with Morik, a neighbor of ours, on the rare days where clouds offered precious shade. Trying to learn how to identify the good ship parts from the bad, failing miserably at each time, and spending the rest of the night trading the sassiest jabs about it with my dad.

Then there was that Nautolan fellow, around the same age as me. He was a pilot, and whenever he needed anything, our shipyard was the place to stop. A consistent customer, and a family friend. His name was Sly, or at least, that's what he told us his name was. I'm pretty sure that was just some alias he used to sound cool around me, and I'm also certain my family knew his real name, but I never got to learn it. Funnily enough, he wore an eyepatch, which he also didn't need, and loved to mimic various accents from around the galaxy. He was playful, and always pretending to be tough and roguish. We all knew he was just a softie inside, though. It wasn't uncommon for him to bring gifts for the family, and not just sentimental ones either. How he ever managed to get his hands on some of the things he handed off to us, I'll never know.

I often wondered what it would be like, to sneak my way onto his starship one day and explore the galaxy at his side. I was old enough. I didn't need permission from anyone, well, except him of course. But I knew better. My parents were getting old, and the work they did was tiring. I couldn't leave them behind like that, not when they had no one else. I still wonder sometimes what could have been. I hope that, wherever Sly is, he's doing well. I hope he finally bought that hyperdrive upgrade he was always rambling on and on about, like some excitable child. I feel... happy, when I look back on those days. For the past several weeks I've only ever felt sad. Things really are changing for me here. They're changing for the better.

Tonight will be a good night. Maybe tomorrow will be even better. And the many days after that? I'm certain I'll enjoy them too.

Mom? Dad? If you're still out there somewhere, watching this or... maybe hovering over my shoulder like a bunch of ghostly weirdos, thank you. Thank you for making me the woman I am today. Thank you for giving me a life worth remembering, a life I can always look back on, and smile at.

[familyvideostevie]

Hi!! I love your writing and thought I would make a lil request <3 how about Eddie and reader giggly first time smoking together to chill out after everything happening?

thank you for your request, i love writing eddie, in this fic let's pretend everything went perfectly and they saved the world! i'll be honest, i don't smoke, so i had to phone a friend for some of these details, hope they satisfy! (thanks sabrina <3) | 0.9k, fem!reader, fluff, cw: smoking weed

The sun has just gone down and the spring chill is settling in, but you hardly feel it. Eddie's front steps are firm beneath you as you both wait for Steve to pick you up for "Big Kid Movie Night," as Robin has dubbed it. It sounds much better than "none of us want to spend too much time alone after almost dying so we're having a sleepover," but, whatever. Steve provides his house, Robin brings the movies, Nancy makes the snacks, and you and Eddie bring the substances. Beer, usually, but tonight you've got weed, too. You might be a bit of a mess, all of you, but at least you have each other.

"Harrington's gonna be so pissed we started already," Eddie murmurs, the lit joint loose in his fingers. You're about halfway through it, feeling relaxed and calm, though that's always how you feel around Eddie. You don't know how you'd have gotten through all of this without him.

"That's what he gets for being late!" Eddie is warm next to you, sitting a step or two lower with his arm slung over your thigh, hand wrapped gently around your calf.

It's new, this thing between you, forged in the intensity of the last week, but it's warm and bright in your chest. The truth is that you've loved him forever, since he first smiled at you. How could you not? But the threat of the end of the world and multiple near death experiences finally made you fess up. And now that you're on the other side of it you can look at him openly with the tenderness you've that's been brewing in your chest for years.

Eddie blows a smoke ring and something in your gut shifts. He grins at you before passing you the joint. It's the first time you've smoked together, and while his mouth has been on yours many, many times already, the action feels like a new kind of kiss, a new kind of intimacy, placing your lips on the imprint of where his have just been.

"How's your neck, baby?" he asks quietly, long fingers tracing patterns over your jeans. The Upside Down had left its marks on all of you, surface and otherwise. You take an inhale before using your free hand to pull down the collar of your shirt -- Eddie's shirt, actually -- even though he asked you the same question mere hours ago. You and Steve have matching circles, both having been caught by demobat tails. The ring has faded from an angry red to purple and hasn't bled in days, but it still aches a little.

"It's kinda crusty," you say, wrinkling your nose. The memory of writhing on the ground and gasping for breath as Eddie ran towards you isn't a nice one. "Fading, though. I'm hoping it won't scar."

Eddie looks so forlorn you can't take it. He reaches for you slowly, hovering his hand over the bruising as he parts his lips to say something, most likely an apology, but as soon as his warm thumb touches the base of your throat the joint slips through your fingers onto the steps. Eddie looks at you for a second, more confused than sad now, before you collapse into giggles.

He laughs with you, soft, happy again, before picking up what you've dropped and handing it back to you. He reaches up to brush his fingers along the bruises, soft and quick as if he could heal them right then and there, before grabbing your empty hand and bringing it to his lips to kiss the back of it.

"You laugh a lot when you're high," he says. "And you're a little more... affected by me than usual."

You scoff at him and take another inhale. Your smoke ring attempt fails miserably but Eddie just smiles and takes his turn before putting out the joint. The sheer adoration on his face sends you into another fit of giggles, and you smack your hand over your mouth to smother them. He's right, though. Of course he's noticed that your blush isn't just from the chill. Eddie knows every inch of you. The longer you look at him the more your stomach clenches. He's just so pretty.

"Maybe you're just...really funny...looking," you say, serious as you can.

"Nice try, sweet thing. I know I'm hot shit." He scoots up to the same step as you and cradles your face.

"You sure are, Eddie Munson," you whisper. No use in denying it. But as much as Eddie has you wrapped around his finger, you've got him wrapped around yours. You feel it in the tenderness with which he touches you, the intensity of his gaze, the soft way he says your name before he leans in and kisses you. He nibbles on your bottom lip before licking into your mouth. You gasp, and that's when a car honks. Both of you jump a little, but Eddie doesn't let go of you.

"Fucking Steve," you mutter. Eddie laughs.

"Hey!" Steve himself yells from his car, now in front of the trailer, his headlights bright on both of you. "Are you two bozos high already?"

"Yes!" you shout as Eddie groans, "No!" Eddie gives you another kiss, this one quicker but still a little filthy, before standing and offering you a hand.

"C'mon baby, let's go mess around in Harrington's back seat." He winks at you and you feel a swell of fondness for him, for everything that's happened, since it means you get to love Eddie for the rest of your life.

"I heard that!" Steve yells.

want to be added to my tag list for full-length (non-ask) fics? send me a message and specify for steve, eddie, or both! reblog, send feedback, requests open, masterlist here!

[full-of-jams]

Tangsuyuk Love

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Summary: College student Jungkook passes cute notes with a customer who always orders take-out tangsuyuk at his part-time job. Meanwhile he’s trying not to miserably fail his Math class, while hiding his ever-growing crush on you.

Genre: college au, f2l, fluff, smut, one shot, did I mention FLUFF?

Warnings: mild swearing, sexual content, hold your heart palpitations!

Word Count: 11.5k

A/N: I wanted to write something light and sweet before I continued with Good Riddance. It will be easy, she said. It will be fun, she said. It will be quick, she said. Ha. haha. ha. ha. Ignore my pain. Enjoy!

°°°°°°°

[09/04 18:34 PM] User: LatteIsHorse ---------------- ORDER [DELIVERY] 1 Tangsuyuk (large) 1 Jjamppong 2 Kimchi Mandu ---------------- Note: Without pineapple! Please make the jjamppong extra spicy, my boyfriend just broke up with me T-T

Golden Bang 7 Wausan-ro 29-gil, Seogyo-dong

Server: JK ------------------- TO GO

1 Tangsuyuk (large) -- 20,000 1 Jjamppong -- 5,000 2 Kimchi Mandu -- 6,000 1 Soju -- 0

Total: 31,000 -------------------- Thanks for ordering at Golden Bang! Have a golden day!

Note: Service! Nothing’s better than the fresh taste of soju to lighten a heavy heart :) Cheer up LatteIsHorse-Nim!

Paper Note: JK-nim, thanks for the soju. It sweetened my bitter night. This is Tokki, please give him a loving new home! TT-TT

Jungkook was fucking terrified of you. If it weren’t for the fact that he was close to failing Statistical Analysis, he would’ve considered faking a stomach flu and making a beeline straight out of the library.

“If you have a box containing 3 white, 4 red and 5 black balls what is the probability that you will draw a white ball on your first draw and a black ball on your second draw?” you asked again through gritted teeth.

You looked up at Jungkook and were met by an empty stare. Usually you enjoyed tutoring your fellow classmate. He was a smart and funny guy, maybe a bit awkward at times, but always trying his best. Today every little thing grated on your nerves. It took you every ounce of energy to get out of bed and look like a presentable human being this morning. You really didn’t want to sit here for another hour if the boy was just going to stare at you like a petrified statue. “It’s really not that difficult. You just have to apply conditional probability.”

Jungkook let out a frustrated huff and pulled at his hair, “I really don’t know, this doesn’t make any sense! Why do I even need this stuff for my major? Who cares if I pull out a white ball or a black ball first? It’s not like I’m planning on becoming Houdini!”

Sometimes you pitied him, but who on Earth had an irrational fear of Gauss distributions and probability?! They were beautiful, harmless, abstract concepts of life. Your sympathy was muffled by a thrumming headache. All the late-night crying already had you chugging water and slapping ice cubes on your face at breakfast. Right now you just wanted to go home, change into your pjs, order some tangsuyuk and binge watch Boys Over Flowers. The cringy acting and Go Jun Pyo’s luscious locks were the only things that made your miserable life feel a bit less pathetic at the moment. “Jungkook, we went over this last time. Just apply the damn formula,” you snapped.

“Why are you being so scary today?” he asked wide-eyed and apprehensive.

You took a deep breath, rubbed your temples and tried to calm your inner turmoil. It wasn’t his fault; you were just in a really shitty mood. “I’m sorry. It’s not my day today. Is it okay if we rain check? I promise I’ll make it up to you next week.”

Jungkook wasn’t used to seeing you this distraught. He wracked his brain on how to lift your spirit. “Hey, do you want to hear this math joke my friend Jin told me the other day? What do you call an angle that is adorable?”

The boy scrunched his nose adorably and waited for your response. He was really handsome, you noticed that back when you two first met. Back then you just didn’t have a reason to care. Back then you still had a boyfriend.

“I don’t know, tell me,” you answered.

“Acute angle!” he said with a timid smile.

Despite your foul mood you had to snort at his joke.

Jungkook’s smile grew wider. It wasn’t a full laugh, but at least your frown disappeared. He discovered early on that you had a soft spot for bad math puns.

Although he absolutely detested Statistical Analysis, he has come to enjoy your study sessions over the past couple of weeks. The TA of his class, Namjoon, was a close friend of Jungkook’s and a sunbae of yours. Once he discovered that his favorite dongsaeng was abysmal at reading a z-score table, he immediately referred him to you.

At first Jungkook was very reluctant to accept any help. He was a mechanical engineer for fuck’s sake! He calculated distributed load across uneven surfaces and directional derivatives all the time!

His inner protests died down during your first session when you unwittingly asked him if he was constipated while he tried to calculate the standard deviation. During your second session he noticed you liked to doodle small geometric and fractal comics on his work sheets whenever he was solving a problem.

‘What did the triangle say to the circle?’ ‘You’re pointless!’

By the time your third session rolled around he still hated statistics, but it was too late and he’d developed a hopeless crush on you. Your monologues about dead mathematicians and the beauty of an infinite series were oddly captivating. He didn’t think he’d ever met anyone who was so passionate and animated about anything in all his life.

“Is everything okay?” Jungkook asked carefully. You seemed tired and a bit wary. “I-I mean, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t feel like it. Sorry, it’s none of my business,” he immediately added.

You smiled at his flustered state. Jungkook’s heart stumbled when your smile turned sad and you said, “No not really, but I’m sure I’ll be fine sooner or later.”

[13/04 19:12 PM] User: LatteIsHorse ---------------- ORDER [DELIVERY]

1 Tangsuyuk (large) 1 Jjajangmyeon 1 Jjajangbap ---------------- Note: JK-nim! Omg your tangsuyuk is the best! I could drown in that sauce! How is Tokki doing?

Golden Bang 7 Wausan-ro 29-gil, Seogyo-dong

Server: JK ------------------- TO GO

1 Tangsuyuk (large) -- 20,000 1 Jjajangmyeon -- 4,500 1 Jjajangbap -- 5,500

Total: 30,000 -------------------- Thanks for ordering at Golden Bang! Have a golden day!

Note: LatteIsHorse-nim! Little Tokki is doing well and bravely guarding our store! Don’t drown, but here’s some extra sauce for you to enjoy. I asked for it to be without pineapple. Hwaiting!

“Yah! Why does it smell like rotten take-out in your bedroom?” Jisoo asked.

Scowling has become your new go-to expression. “Too soon. Just let me wallow in my self-pity and sorrow.”

If you didn’t know any better you would’ve thought your friend was playing ‘The Floor Is Lava’ considering how gingerly she walked across your room. Safely on the other side, she ripped open a window to let some much needed fresh air in. 

“I think you’re going to be wallowing in mold and fungus instead,” Jisoo commented with disgust. “Wallow all you want, I’m here to support you, girl. But I can’t allow you to turn your place into a biohazard zone. Isn’t your sister bothered by this?”

“My sister doesn’t care; our rooms are off limits to each other. As long as we both keep the common area clean, she won’t complain,” you said.

Jisoo sat down on your bed and patted the empty spot next to her. She immediately retracted her hand. “Eww, is that tangsuyuk sauce on your sheets?” she asked, completely appalled.

You shrugged and thumped onto your bed.

“So what are your plans for tonight?” she asked, trying to suppress a shudder.

“It’s Monday night. What plans could I possibly have?”

“We’re in college! Weekdays, weekends, they’re all the same!” your friend exclaimed. She looked at your sprawled-out figure. “I told you from the very beginning he wasn’t good for you. I know it doesn’t feel like this right now, but you’re lucky he’s out of your life. I really can’t watch you torture yourself over a jerk like him. Let’s go out to Hongdae!”

“I can’t go out. I already have plans.”

“Didn’t you just say you didn’t have any plans?”

“I lied. I have a date.”

Jisoo paused for a second, unsure how to respond. “Really? With whom?”

“Gong Yoo. We promised to kiss each other on first snowfall,” you responded listlessly.

“Yah!” Jisoo yelled and smacked your butt.

“Oww! What was that for?” you cried in surprise, rubbing the tender spot.

“Re-watching Goblin is not a date! You scared me for a second,” Jisoo said.

“How is it not a date? I meet a hot oppa, multiple hot oppas, we have dinner together, I giggle and blush and at the end of the night I get kissed to sleep.” You sat up and gave your friend a weary look. “I really don’t want to go out right now, but also don’t want to be on my own. Can’t we just stay in and watch a drama?” you asked with the saddest face you could muster.

Jisoo wanted to argue, but she couldn’t resist your pout. “Fine. But first you change your bedsheets, I’m not gonna sit in moldy tangsuyuk sauce all night. And I get to choose the drama.”

“Call!”

[16/04 17:58 PM] User: LatteIsHorse ---------------- ORDER [DELIVERY]

1 Tangsuyuk (small) 1 Kimchi Kimbap 1 Beef Kimbap  ---------------- Note: JK-nim thanks for the extra sauce! It was delicious. Are you a dipper or a pourer?

Golden Bang 7 Wausan-ro 29-gil, Seogyo-dong

Server: JK ------------------- TO GO

1 Tangsuyuk (small) -- 13,000 1 Kimchi Kimbap -- 2,500 1 Beef Kimbap -- 2,500 1 Soup -- 0

Total: 18,000 -------------------- Thanks for ordering at Golden Bang! Have a golden day!

Note: LatteIsHorse-nim! Personally, I’m a dipper, but I don’t discriminate! I added some broth as service for you. It’s chilly tonight. Don’t catch a cold!

Paper Note: JK-nim, let’s be friends? I’m also a dipper! Did you know that butterflies can’t fly when they’re cold? Here is one that I folded, sending back my warmest thoughts to you on this frosty spring night.

The first thing that caught your eye was Jungkook who was patiently waiting at the library entrance. Despite the steaming goods in his hands, his entire body was shivering. The temperature suddenly dropped last night, but he couldn’t be bothered to dig up his padded jacket when he left the house this morning.

Before you could even greet him, he shoved a hot milk tea towards you and mumbled, “Here, it’s cold today so I thought you could use something warm.”

You were surprised by this sweet gesture. “Thanks,” you reached for it and examined the drink in your hand, ”How did you know I like black milk tea?”

He ducked his head and mumbled something into himself.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

Jungkook lifted his head. His cheeks and nose were a lovely wash of pink from the cold. “You mentioned once that you’re an OG milk tea drinker, so I just guessed” he repeated again, louder. “I saw this bungeoppang cart on the way here. We can share them while studying?” he said, holding up a small paper bag.

Your heart warmed and for the first time in weeks your face split into big smile, “Sure, I love bungeoppang! We’re not allowed to eat inside the library. So how about we eat everything first before they get cold and then go in?”

The both of you took a seat on a bench. By now Jungkook definitely regretted being too lazy to find his jacket this morning, but he was determined not to let it show. He passed the bag full of bungeoppangs to you.

You happily reached for one of the fish-shaped pastries and started munching on it. Your face crinkled, steam came out of your mouth. Jungkook’s heart skipped as he watched you in fascination. Your cheeks were flushed. A sudden instinct to stroke your rosy skin overcame him. Instead he reached for a bungeoppang and took a careful bite. “Are you feeling better today?”

“A little bit,” you said between bites, “I’m really sorry about last time. I feel bad now. I ditched you and now you’re treating me to snacks.” You went on and stabbed your straw through your milk tea. “I should be the one treating you instead.”

“I like to treat you,” Jungkook said, mesmerized by the way your lips moved against the straw. He suddenly realized what he was doing and cleared his throat, “A happy teacher is a good teacher! You’re already spending your time tutoring me.”

A laugh slipped out of you, “Jungkook, you’re paying me for your lessons. But it’s okay, this bungeoppang and tea definitely hits the spot, so I’ll accept it with a grateful heart. What are you drinking?”

Jungkook looked down on his drink and gave it a shake, the black pearls swirled around buoyantly. “Banana milk tea, I prefer sweet drinks.”

You leaned back against the bench and looked up at the clear blue sky. “Sweet things are the best combat against the bitter taste of life,” you sighed. You closed your eyes and soaked in the crisp air. Jungkook felt your melancholy, he could warm your body, but he didn’t know how to warm your heart.  

“Sorry that I’m bothering you with my personal stuff. It’s just that I had a really bad breakup recently. I shouldn’t let it affect our lessons,” you said with a wistful smile as you lifted your head again.

The boy next to you remained silent. You turned and saw a contemplative look on his face. “It’s alright, everyone can have a bad day,” he finally said, “You don’t have to pretend to be okay when you’re not. If you’re never angry or sad, you won’t know when you’re happy.”

His words stunned you. Has Jungkook always been this thoughtful? You turned away from his gaze and looked down at the pastry in your hand. “They’re rhombus shaped,” you muttered in an attempt of distraction and showed your bungeoppang to Jungkook. “The fish scales,” you added when he looked confused.

“Ah yeah, the scales. It’s actually erroneous since most of the bungeoppangs depict a ganoid scale structure when in fact carps have cycloid scales to allow for a greater flexibility,” Jungkook explained.

A blank look appeared on your face. Probably the same blank look he had whenever you tried to explain the Bayes’ theorem to him. He let out an awkward laugh, “We studied the mechanics of fish scale structures in Material Science. You can correlate the flexibility of a scaled surface depending on its underlying geometric structure and material. It’s pretty cool stuff.”

“I can’t believe you can geek out about the geometry of fish scales, but don’t know how to define your probability population,” you snorted in disbelief. 

“Hey, when will I ever need to calculate the probability of two people with the same birthday in a room? I just have a hard time learning stuff I never have to apply,” he said defensively.

Then you suddenly had an idea. “Tell you what, how about this? If you pass your statistics final, I’ll treat you to the best Chinese take-out in town! You can order whatever you want!”

Jungkook didn’t want to dampen your excitement by telling you that his part-time job already allowed him to eat as much Chinese take-out as he wanted. “Okay, but don’t complain when you go broke. My record was five jjajangmyeon and two tangsuyuk in one sitting.”

You batted away his challenge. “First you have to pass your finals,” you teased.

“I’ll pass,” Jungkook said.

You smiled at his cute determination. “Then it’s a date.”

Jungkook beamed back at you. “It’s a date.”

[05/05 18:21 PM] User: LatteIsHorse ---------------- ORDER [DELIVERY]

1 Tangsuyuk (large) 2 Pork Mandu 1 Tteokkguk 1 Jjajangmyeon 1 Tteokkbokki ---------------- Note: No pineapple plz. JK-nim! Happy Children’s Day! For this special occasion I’ve decided to order all of my childhood favorites. Life is too short to eat bad food. I hope today you treat yourself to something delicious as well!

“Yah! JK! Your girlfriend placed an order again!” Yugyeom yelled across the store.

A mop of black hair peaked out from the back of the shop. “She’s not my girlfriend, she’s just a regular,” Jungkook yelled back.

“A regular you flirt with,” Yugyeom snickered, “I saw all the notes you left her in the system. ‘Don’t catch a cold!’, ‘Hwaiting!’ Don’t tell me that’s not your lame attempt at flirting.”

Suddenly an angry Yoongi stomped out of the kitchen. “Keep it down boys, we have guests here.”

Jungkook went up to the register and printed out the online order. “Hyung, can you make a large tangsuyuk without pineapple?”

“It’s a national holiday, there’s like two people here tonight,” Yugyeom muttered under his breath.

“What did you say, Yugyeom?”

“Nothing, hyung!”

Yoongi snatched the order out of Jungkook’s hand and gave both boys another irritated glance before he headed back into the kitchen.

“Hey JK,” Yugyeom said in a lower voice as he moved next to his friend, “aren’t you ever curious how LatteIsHorse is like? I mean, she must have some sense of humor judging by her username.”

“Sometimes. Don’t you ever wonder how our regulars are like? But it’s not like I’m ever gonna meet them or know it’s them when they come into the store,” Jungkook said with a shrug.

“You could though. Mingyu’s out on delivery, Eunwoo’s off so we have a free bike. The store is dead tonight. You could go deliver the order and have a look,” Yugyeom spurred him on.

Jungkook considered his friend’s suggestion. Every time he opened his locker a little origami bunny and butterfly stared back at him and brightened his day. It was true, he was curious how LatteIsHorse was like. “Okay I’ll go, but don’t pretend you’re doing me a favor. You just don’t want to do delivery tonight.”

<Ding Dong>

A pretty girl in a Yonsei hoodie and shorts opened the door. She somehow looked familiar, but Jungkook couldn’t place from where. Maybe he met her on campus before.

“Delivery from Golden Bang,” Jungkook said, holding up his metal box.

“Ah great! I’m starving!” the girl said.

Jungkook started unloading the box and handed the dishes to the girl. Once he was done, he lingered awkwardly in the doorway. The girl gave him a curious look, clearly wondering why he wasn’t leaving. Jungkook gathered his courage and said, “I’m JK by the way.”

What followed was a beat of silence. Jungkook could feel his ears burn.

“Err, it’s nice to meet you, I guess? Is there anything else you need?” the girl asked after the painful pause. “Ah got it! Just a sec!” She ran into the apartment and came back with her wallet. “Here’s a tip, we’ll put the dishes back outside for pick up,” she said as she scrunched a bill into Jungkook’s hand, “Thanks for your hard work. Happy holiday!” And then she shut the door right into his face.

What just happened? Jungkook was stupefied. After an eternity he finally moved and mechanically pulled out his phone. He checked the delivery order on his app. LatteIsHorse – this was the address. She didn’t recognize him. Why was he so naive to believe that she would remember him? All he wanted in that moment was for the ground to open and swallow him up.

“Dinner’s here,” your sister said as you came out of the shower. “Did you order banana milk?”

“No? Why?” you joined her at the dinner table and started rummaging through the dishes. “Where’s the receipt?”

“I threw it in the trash,” she said. When she saw you opening up the trash can and fishing for it, she added, “Gross! What are you doing? Why do you need it?”

Golden Bang 7 Wausan-ro 29-gil, Seogyo-dong

Server: JK ------------------- TO GO

1 Tangsuyuk (large) -- 20,000 2 Pork Mandu -- 6,000 1 Tteokkguk -- 4,500 1 Jjajangmyeon -- 4,500 1 Tteokkbokki -- 3,000

Total: 38,000 -------------------- Thanks for ordering at Golden Bang! Have a golden day!

Note: LatteIsHorse-nim! Happy Children’s Day to you too! I added my favorite childhood drink, banana milk! I hope it brings back as many happy childhood memories for you as it does for me.

There, sitting on the table, was a small bottle of banana milk. A smile spread across your face. “I need to file it away for tax purposes.”

Your sister looked at you like you were crazy. “Let’s eat already, I’m starving. Wash your hands.”

[14/05 16:55 PM] User: LatteIsHorse ---------------- ORDER [TAKE AWAY]

1 Tangsuyuk (small) 1 Jjajangbap ---------------- Note: JK-nim, hope you’re doing well. I’m in the area today, so I thought I’d stop by and say hello in person! Is it weird that I feel a bit nervous?

The restaurant door wasn’t going to open itself. The past 15 minutes of you standing in front of it has proven that. You had some errands to run in Hongdae after school and decided on a whim to place a pickup order at your favorite take-out place. 

Why was it so difficult to enter a restaurant? If you steeled your nerves any more, they’d probably break from how brittle they’ve become. You just had to open that damn door.

Sometimes you wondered if you liked that place more because of its great tangsuyuk or because of JK’s little notes which always managed to put a smile on your face.

One thing was for sure, you weren’t stalling because of the tangsuyuk.

“Welcome to Golden Bang!” a bright male voice rang across the restaurant as you passed through the door.

You walked up to the register and sneaked a peek at the boy’s name tag, ‘Yugyeom’. You felt a slight twinge of disappointment.

“I’m here to pick up my order? LatteIsHorse?” you asked tentatively.

A sign of recognition flashed across Yugyeom’s face. “Of course, your order’s ready! I’ll just bag it up for you,” he said cheerfully. He walked away and quickly came back with a white plastic bag full of food. Then he printed out your receipt and handed both to you.

Golden Bang 7 Wausan-ro 29-gil, Seogyo-dong

Server: YG ------------------- TO GO

1 Tangsuyuk (small) -- 13,000 1 Jjajangbap -- 5,500

Total: 18,500 -------------------- Thanks for ordering at Golden Bang! Have a golden day!

You looked around the restaurant, it was empty since dinnertime was still a while away. You wondered if Yugyeom was managing the store alone right now. At least the cook must be in. “Your tangsuyuk is really delicious. It’s probably my favorite.”

Yugyeom gave you a big smile, “Happy to hear that you enjoy our food so much. The tangsuyuk is our chef’s family recipe. It’s one of our most popular menu items!”

You wringed your hands and finally decided to bite the bullet and straight out ask, “Is JK here? He usually takes my orders when I order delivery, so I just wanted to say hi.”

“JK’s shift doesn’t start until 6, so he should be here in about half an hour. If you want, I can relay a message,” he said with a knowing smile, “Or you can also take a seat and wait for him. I’m sure he’d be thrilled to meet you.”

No way you were going to sit here for half an hour and wait up for a stranger. “Ah no, that’s alright. If you could just say hi from me, that’d be great,” you quickly replied with a flush. JK would probably think you’re a creepy stalker.

“Sure, can do! Enjoy your day!” Yugyeom said merrily as you walked out the store.

A feeling of both relief and sadness passed through you. You slowly walked down the busy streets of Hongdae as you reprimanded yourself for being so stupid. What were you going to say to JK anyway if you met him? Thanks for being nice to me? You’re the reason I don’t burst into tears every single night? You’re the reason why I don’t feel completely alone when I’m sobbing into my food over Song Joong Ki’s acting? Thanks for making me gain 3 kilos in the last month?

Whatever you said, it would’ve only made you sound pathetic.

A crippling wave of desperation suddenly washed over you and rooted you in your tracks. A single tear rolled down your face. Then another. You dropped down into a crouch and started to bawl. You couldn’t fathom how you’ve reached this all-time low in your life. Why did you feel so incredibly sad about being stood up by a stranger? Especially when that stranger didn’t even know you were coming?

“Y/N?” an alarmed voice asked. You looked up when you felt a soft shake against your shoulder.

Through your tear-blurred eyes you recognized Jungkook’s face. He crouched down next to you and asked, “Is everything okay? Are you hurt?”

You shook your head and tried to wipe away your tears. It was a useless attempt as they kept on streaming down your face.

Jungkook hesitantly pushed your hair out of your face and asked, “Do you want to go somewhere else so you can tell me what happened?”

You gave him an imperceptible nod.

His hand gently moved down to your arm, afraid that you were going to push him away. With a steady grip he slowly helped you back onto your feet. Then he slid his hand through yours and led you down the hustle and bustle of Hongdae until you ended up in front of a convenience store located in one of the quieter residential side streets. He sat you down in a plastic chair and told you to wait. After a while he came back with a packet of tissues, a bottle of water and two red bean popsicles.

You gratefully took the tissues and loudly blew your nose. A small part of your brain told you to act more ladylike, especially in front of Jungkook, but the bigger part didn’t really care and just wanted to drag you back down into the pits of loneliness. A strangled sound came out of your mouth as you started to hiccup, making you sound like a drowning cat.

You expected Jungkook to laugh at your weird orchestra of emotions. Even you found it absurd and would’ve laughed if you weren’t already crying and hiccupping at the same time. But all he did was quietly open the water bottle and hand it to you.  

As soon as you lifted the bottle to your mouth another hiccup made you almost spill the water on yourself. You held your breath for a few seconds and then took a careful sip. It seemed to work. You took a bigger sip, when another hiccup racked your body and you squeezed water all over your face.

There was a bewildering moment of shock, then you started to laugh deliriously. Forget before, this was your lowest point in life. This was so pathetic that it was hilarious again. Your laughter garbled whenever you hiccupped, only causing you to laugh even harder. You would’ve continued laughing for another long minute if you weren’t choking for air.

A small smile played around Jungkook’s mouth. He took another tissue and started wiping down your face. You hiccupped under his touch. He must think you’re a nutcase.

“I have a question. We have to do some statistical testing in my Quality Management class. What would a hypothesis look like if I wanted to analyze any deviation in a spare parts production line due to temperature conditions?” Jungkook asked.

Did he really forget hypothesis testing already? He finally managed to get it after four sessions! You frowned slightly. “You could set up a null hypothesis stating that a variation in temperature does not significantly impact the parameter of measurement in your production line. Jungkook did you seriously forget this?!” you said indignantly.

Jungkook gave you a playful laugh, “No, I think you drilled it so hard into my brain, I could probably recite all variables of the standard deviation formula if you woke me up in the middle of the night. Your hiccups stopped though.”

They did.

Embarrassment set in as you realized your predicament. Maybe your hormones were going crazy, maybe you were going crazy. You were getting whiplash from the emotional roller coaster you were on. In an attempt to hide your disgrace, you picked up another tissue and wiped away the remaining water, snot and tears.

There was tangible awkwardness in the air.

“I hope you like red bean,” Jungkook said shyly as he unwrapped a popsicle, “Red bean is my favorite. My friends keep on calling me old fashioned, but it just reminds me of the time when my mom used to buy me these after taekwondo class. I think I liked the popsicles more than I liked going to class.” He sighed in reverie and held up the popsicle for you.

You stared at his hand. You remembered how it felt against yours just a few moments ago. Firm, warm and steady. Then you looked up at Jungkook. He hid it well, but you could tell that there was concern behind his encouraging smile.

“This is so embarrassing,” you said as you accepted the popsicle and turned your head away from him, “I don’t know what is wrong with me right now. I’m usually not like this.”

“Did something happen earlier?” Jungkook asked cautiously as he unwrapped his own popsicle and took a bite out of it.

Did something happen earlier? Why did you cry? Where you really crying just because you didn’t meet JK?

“No,” you said and slowly shook your head, “I don’t know. I just suddenly felt overwhelmed.”

Jungkook hesitated before he asked, “Are you sad because of your breakup?”

Were you sad because of your ex-boyfriend?

“I don’t think so. In the beginning when we broke up I was devastated, but I don’t think that’s the case anymore,” you said more to yourself than to Jungkook. “Everyone told me I was lucky to be rid of him. I really didn’t understand why. But I think it’s becoming clearer now. Maybe it’s not sadness. Maybe it’s fear. I think I just feel lost. I don’t know who I am anymore. Maybe it scares me to know that I was able to lose myself and I don’t know if I can find a way back.”

Before you knew it, you spilled your heart, your deepest and darkest fears to Jungkook. You barely knew this boy, yet it still felt oddly comforting. He remained quiet and listened.

“I wanted to meet someone today, but they weren’t there,” you continued, “I think in that moment I just realized how utterly lost I was on my own.”

Jungkook searched for the appropriate words. How do you respond to someone’s most vulnerable thoughts? “I mean you know what they say. It’s not about how much you’ve lost, it’s about how much you have left.”

He peeked at you to check if it worked.

“Jungkook, did you just quote Iron Man at me?” you asked incredulously before a giggle slipped from your lips.

You noticed how his cheeks dimpled when he gave you an embarrassed laugh, “Sorry, I was trying to say something that would cheer you up. I’m probably not doing a very good job.”

In that second you realized how kind-hearted Jungkook actually was. Your heart squeezed. “Don’t say that. Thanks for listening to my problems. And thanks for the red bean popsicle. I also ate this a lot in my childhood. Mainly because my sister hated them. She always used to steal my ice cream out of the freezer so at some point I asked my parents to only buy me red bean popsicles. She never touched those,” you reminisced.

Jungkook laughed at your story, “Your sister sounds like a piece of work.”

“We used to fight a lot, we used to never get along,” you became thoughtful, “At some point that stopped. I think we just grew up and grew to understand and accept our differences. She doesn’t steal my food anymore. I don’t steal her clothes anymore. We may not always agree, but we respect each other’s decisions.”

“You know, for someone who just said she feels lost, you sound pretty self-reflected right now,” Jungkook mused, “Maybe you need to do the same as you did with your sister. Understand yourself and accept the differences of your past and present.”

You paused at this. He was right. You were so desperately trying to fend off these negative emotions that you never took the time to actually think. You were chasing an image that never existed. Not in the past nor in the present.

“You’re surprisingly good at giving advice. Thanks, Jungkook,” you said.

“Surprisingly? What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, offended. The glint in his eyes gave his teasing away.

Laughter pealed from you. Jungkook was captivated by the sound. He drank in the way your eyes creased with mirth and followed your fingers as they brushed back your hair.

Jungkook’s phone vibrated. “Oh shit!”

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, don’t worry. I was actually on my way to work and my boss is asking me where I am,” he said as he stuffed his phone back in his pocket.

Jungkook startled when you suddenly jumped up. “Then you should get to work! You should’ve said something sooner. I’m so sorry for keeping you here!”

“No, it’s really fine. I’ve done enough overtime. He won’t complain if I’m a few minutes late,” he said, “Are you feeling better?”

You ignored his question and pushed against his shoulders to get him out of the chair. “Go to work, Jungkook. I’ll be fine, your red bean popsicle did wonders,” you responded placatively.

When he still didn’t move, you grabbed his arm and pulled him back onto the main street. Jungkook’s skin scorched under your touch. “Go to work, Jungkook,” you said again with more emphasis.

“Are you sure…?” he asked, unwilling to let you out of his sight before he knew you weren’t just going cry again at the next street corner.

“I won’t burst into tears,” you said as if reading his mind. “You were right, I need to reconcile with myself. So I’ll go home, enjoy my dinner and think about who I am and who I want to be. And you,” you said giving him another gentle shove, “need to go to work.”

Jungkook saw the stubborn look on your face. He wondered if you realized you were using your teaching voice right now. You weren’t going to take no for an answer. “Okay fine, text me when you get home?”

You waved away his concerns. “Sure. Go already,” you said with a big reassuring smile. “See you tomorrow at school!” you added before you turned around and walked away.

“You’re late,” Yugyeom said as soon as Jungkook entered the store.

Jungkook gave Yugyeom a sheepish look and only muttered, “Yeah sorry, something came up on my way here.” Then he rushed past him to the back of the restaurant and changed into his uniform.

Once he came back out he noticed Yugyeom throwing him strange looks.

“What?”

“Your girlfriend says hi,” Yugyeom said with a hint of amusement.

“Who?”

Yugyeom gave Jungkook a meaningful look, “LatteIsHorse. She ordered pick up. I think she was hoping to meet you. She’s cute. She looks like she’s probably a college student around here.”

“I know,” was all Jungkook replied.

Yugyeom’s eyes bulged in curiosity, “You know? You know she’s cute or you know she’s a student? You never told me what actually happened that night!”

Jungkook gave him a tired look and said, “She didn’t recognize me. She wore a Yonsei hoodie, so I guess she goes there. Nothing else happened.”

“Hmm, that’s weird. She was asking for you today, so she definitely knows your name,” Yugyeom said.

“Who knows, maybe she was having a lot on her plate that day,” Jungkook said with a shrug. He wondered where you lived and if you already got home safely. “Why are you obsessing over this so much?”

“Man, do you know how painful it is to watch your sorry attempts at flirting? I’m just trying to help you out, mate,” Yugyeom quipped.

“I wasn’t flirting! I was just trying cheer someone up who was obviously feeling down! It’s called being a decent human being,” Jungkook exclaimed.

Yugyeom gave him the side eye, “Yeah, that’s still not gonna get you laid.”

[19/05 18:47 PM] User: LatteIsHorse ---------------- ORDER [DELIVERY]

1 Tangsuyuk (small) 1 Bibimbap ---------------- Note: JK-nim, I visited you at the store last week, but you weren’t there. TT-TT I hope you don’t think I’m weird, I just really like talking to you. You always manage to put a smile on my face when I’m having a hard day. We’re still friends, right?

Golden Bang 7 Wausan-ro 29-gil, Seogyo-dong

Server: JK ------------------- TO GO

1 Tangsuyuk (small) -- 13,000 1 Bibimbap -- 5,000

Total: 18,000 -------------------- Thanks for ordering at Golden Bang! Have a golden day!

Note: LatteIsHorse-nim! I’m sad that I missed your visit to our store. I’ll try harder the next time! I added some extra bulgogi to make up for it. :) Of course we’re still friends. I don’t wish any hard days upon you, but I’m glad to hear that my words have a healing effect. In case you ever need a friend to talk to, feel free to talk to me. 010-1234-5678.

The study sessions with Jungkook continued per usual. He still struggled and had frustrated outbursts from time to time, especially when you forced him to revise probability distributions. When you finally reached regression analysis, things became easier.

Although your sessions remained the same, something in your dynamic changed. The both of you became looser and more playful around each other. He wouldn’t clamp up anymore and you felt more at ease around him. You became friends. He never once mentioned that disasterous afternoon.

At home, on the evening of the incident, you shot Jungkook a text and slumped down on the couch. Your sister was out that night, so it was just you in the apartment. Normally, the eerie quiet would’ve unsettled you and you would’ve distracted yourself from your deafening thoughts. But that night you just let them scream, yell and tear at you.

It was an excruciating process, but in the end your head was clearer, your heart calmer. You still weren’t quite there yet, but at least you made a first step out of the endless pit of desperation.

There were other things you noticed about yourself. Gradually you realized you didn’t mind being on your own anymore. You rediscovered your love for drawing and created you own mandala art. You also learned to code your own website and now had a clickable version of your cv on the go. Although you made time for yourself, you weren’t a hermit. You went out for drinks with Jisoo and soon asked Namjoon to take you along to your university’s Math Club. There you met a lot of familiar faces that you’ve encountered in class but never talked to. With them you spent animated evenings discussing stimulating math problems and exchanging incredibly bad math puns.

You also started noticing things about Jungkook. He wasn’t as timid and shy as you initially thought. Once he got over his awkwardness, he turned out to be quite a cheeky and goofy guy. He teased you or told you silly jokes whenever you were on a break. Despite his obvious aversion for statistics, he still took your lessons very seriously. Diligently listening to your explanations and trying to solve the problems to the best of his abilities. His study-mode showed you other sides of him. The cute pout he had whenever he tried to hide his confusion. Or the two little ridges which formed between his eyes whenever he was concentrated and deep in thought. More often than not you fought the urge to smooth them out with your touch or even better, with a kiss.

“Is something wrong?” Jungkook asked when he caught you staring.

“No,” you quickly said, “I was just thinking that you don’t seem to have much trouble with regression analysis.”

“I don’t know, the relationship between the variables just makes much more sense,” Jungkook said.

You looked at him and considered, “Hmm, maybe you don’t need my tutoring anymore?”

Brief dismay crossed Jungkook’s face. “My finals are in three weeks. I think I’d still prefer if you helped me revise the earlier chapters,” he said, “Unless you need more time to study for your own finals.”

Being in college meant that you were always in dire need of more time. That constant nagging voice in the back of your head telling you to study was an occupational disease. But you didn’t have to kid yourself, those four hours a week spent on Jungkook weren’t going to make or break your grade. Besides, you enjoyed spending time with him. You wondered if he felt the same.

“It’s alright, I’ll help you revise. Just don’t embarrass me on your finals. I don’t want Namjoon to tell me afterwards that you didn’t manage to calculate the mean of the population or worse, read the scoring table upside down,” you teased him light-heartedly.

Jungkook’s ears turned bright red. “That happened once!” he said, “How long are you going to hold that over my head?”

You laughed at his indignation. “Don’t forget, you’ll get endless tangsuyuk if you pass.”

[26/05 20:09 PM] User: LatteIsHorse ---------------- ORDER [DELIVERY]

1 Tangsuyuk (small) 1 Jjamppong ---------------- Note: JK-nim, I’d like to get the advice of a friend. There’s this kind, sweet boy that I really like. I would like to tell him how I feel, but he’s seen me in my lowest and ugliest moments. Maybe he’ll think I’m just baggage? I guess I’m afraid of his rejection.

Golden Bang 7 Wausan-ro 29-gil, Seogyo-dong

Server: JK ------------------- TO GO

1 Tangsuyuk (small) -- 13,000 1 Jjamppong -- 5,000 1 Soju -- 0

Total: 18,000 -------------------- Thanks for ordering at Golden Bang! Have a golden day!

Note: LatteIsHorse-nim! It’s only human to fear rejection. I can completely understand. I also have someone I really like. She’s really pretty, smart and funny. Spending time with her makes me really happy, but I never managed to tell her. Maybe we should both gather our courage and cheer each other on? I’m not saying that drunken confessions are the way to go but consider this soju a symbolism for (liquid) courage.

Paper Note: This is a flexagon. Whenever you need a word of encouragement give it a flip!

Jungkook examined the hexagonal origami in his hands. On the outside it read ‘Flip Me!’

He gave the flexagon a flip. ‘JK you’re the best!’ And another. ‘The world needs more people like you!’ And another. ‘Don’t forget that LatteIsHorse is always rooting for you!’ And another. ‘Aja, aja, hwaiting!’ And another. ‘Thank you for being my friend!’

Jisoo barged into you room and flopped onto your bed. ‘Ahhh! I’m so glad you finally cleaned in here. Seriously, if I find another rancid noodle stuck to my clothes, I’ll call in a hazmat team.”

“I don’t know why you’re complaining so much. It’s not even your room,” you said.

“Hey, where are you ever going to find a friend like me?”

Your friend sacrificed many a night away from college parties to binge watch handsome oppas sweep equally beautiful unnies off their feet with you. And she wasn’t shy telling you that.

“Let’s go out tonight,” Jisoo suggested. She rolled back onto her feet and started walking around, inspecting your cleaning job.

“Our finals start in two weeks; I really don’t want to spend my weekend nursing a hangover.”

“I’m not saying you have to get wasted. Tonight is the Pre-Game Night. We have to go!” Jisoo demanded.

The Final’s Pre-Game Night was a campus-wide tradition. Every semester on the Friday a week before finals huge parties were thrown to signal the beginning of the end. It was like a dare – were you confident enough to get completely drunk and still hope to pass your finals? Naturally everybody on campus joined in and drank.

“Not getting wasted at a Pre-Game party? That’s like saying you’ve decided you don’t need to breathe. I really don’t think…”

“What’s this?” Jisoo suddenly interrupted. “LatteIsHorse-nim! Personally, I’m a dipper, but I don’t discriminate! I added some broth as service for you. It’s chilly tonight. Don’t catch a cold!” she read aloud, “LatteIsHorse-nim! Happy Children’s Day to you too! I added my favorite childhood drink, banana milk! I hope it brings back as many happy childhood memories for you as it does for me.”

You flung yourself across the room and almost tripped over your own feet trying to rip the receipts out of Jisoo’s hands.

“Oh. My. God. Is your take-out guy flirting with you?!” she asked.

“No! He’s just a friend. We send encouraging notes to each other,” you tried to explain.

Jisoo threw her hands in the air. “Okay that’s it! We’re going to the Pre-Game party, whether you want or not. You can’t tell me that the only flirting interaction you have is with a stranger who delivers you tangsuyuk!”

The place Jisoo picked out was ram packed and buzzing with energy. It was an open dorm party; all the common rooms were transformed into dancefloors. Different types of music played from each corner of the building. Crates of alcohol were stacked against the walls.

The both of you grabbed a beer and made your way through the crowd.

“You’re going to have fun tonight, alright?”

“I don’t think this works that way,” you laughed.

“Then put some effort into it. We look way too cute for it to go to waste,” she said as you roamed around the floors and explored the different areas. You looked down on your dress. It was a pretty warm night; you had opted for a flowy summer dress with a blush pink floral pattern. Jisoo was right, it was cute.

You discovered a familiar face at the edge of the crowd. “Sunbae!” you said.

Namjoon turned around gave you a surprised smile. “Y/N! Out of all the places on campus, we meet each other here tonight. What are the chances?”

He was surrounded by a group of friends, you spotted Jungkook right behind him. The boy gave you an excited wave. A slow smile spread across your face. “I don’t know, but why don’t we ask Jungkook to calculate it for you?”

Namjoon let out a hearty laugh while Jungkook groaned in exasperation.

“Do you see what I have to put up with every week, hyung?”

“Didn’t you just say it’s the best thing that happened to you?” Namjoon taunted, “You have some nerve showing up in front of me tonight. You better ace your SA finals. Do you know how many favors I had to pull to get Y/N to tutor you?”

“What do you expect me to do?” Jungkook sputtered, “Go home and lock myself up on Pre-Game Night?”

If it weren’t for Jisoo you would’ve done just that. Speaking of Jisoo, your friend cleared her throat and gave you a painful nudge in the side.

“Ah yes, uhm, Jisoo you already know Namjoon. This is Jungkook. You know, the guy I’m tutoring.”

Jungkook gave her a small wave.

Jisoo didn’t even try to hide her amazement. “This is Jungkook? But you’re like wayyy cute!” She turned to you and added still loud enough for everyone to hear, “Why didn’t you tell me he was cute?!”

The embarrassment was obvious on Jungkook’s face. You could tell that Namjoon was getting a rush out of his dongsaeng’s reaction and before he could provoke him any further you decided to jump in.

“Who wants to go dance?” you asked loudly. You turned around and headed to the dancefloor without waiting for any of them to respond.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were tutoring a hunk?” Jisoo muttered under her breath.

“He’s not a hunk. Don’t call him that.”

“Yeah but he’s hot. You made him sound like he was a nerd.”

“He is a nerd.”

Your friend gave you a glare, “Why are we arguing about this? I know you’re not that oblivious.”

Of course you weren’t oblivious to Jungkook, but you weren’t going to tell Jisoo that.

“Let’s dance.” You grabbed Jisoo’s hand and twirled her around.

Namjoon and his friends joined you on the dancefloor. The mood of the crowd was electric. Music pulsed through your veins. Drinks flowed, shots were downed, people pulled out their best, lamest, craziest dance moves. Everyone celebrated like the world was going to end.

After a while you became hot and needed a new drink. You looked around for Jisoo and saw her grinding up against one of Namjoon’s friends. She’d be busy for a while. You inconspicuously moved away from the group and decided to go get some fresh air.  

“Wait up,” Jungkook said as he appeared next to you, “are you getting something to drink? I’ll join you.”

His dark curls were slightly matted with sweat. His baggy t-shirt clung to his body. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or Jisoo’s damn voice whispering into your ear. He was hot.

You circled your arm through his and pulled him through the crowd. His muscles shifted under your touch. You grabbed two drinks from a crate and handed one to Jungkook, your nerves tingled when his hand brushed against yours. The both of you remained in comfortable silence, leisurely walking through the dorm, neither of you in a hurry to get back to your friends. You explored the facility areas, weaving through pounding and quiet parts of the building.

“You look really nice tonight,” he said after a while.

The heels of your shoes echoed against marble floor of the dark hallway. “Thanks, Jisoo raided my closet.”

“She’s really something isn’t she?”

“She’s the best. I’m grateful to have her as my friend.”

Somewhere further down the hallway you made out two figures pressed against the wall, probably trying to find a quiet place of their own.

“You also look nice,” you said to Jungkook.

“I’m wearing the same things I always do,” Jungkook said, his voice turning shy.

You were getting closer to the couple. You could see how the guy was sticking his tongue down the girl’s throat. She seemed to enjoy it from the sounds she was making. Lucky them.

Your next words were definitely fuelled by your tipsy state, “I guess that means you always look nice.” Jungkook missed a step. You had to laugh at his blunder.

The couple in front of you broke apart and looked in your direction. More annoyed about being interrupted rather than embarrassed being caught. You were about to make a funny comment to Jungkook when your heart stopped and you froze.

A string of saliva still clung to the guy’s lips. His eyes widened when he recognized your face in the darkness. “Y/N?”

Your breath hitched and your grip tightened around Jungkook’s arm. He glanced between you and the guy, the situation slowly dawning on him.

“Why did you stop? Who’s that?”, the girl whined.

“No one,” the guy responded as he returned his attention to her and they started making out again.

Jungkook didn’t know if he wanted to puke or punch that guy. A sharp pain in his arm brought him back to his senses. Your nails dug into his skin. He put his hand around yours and loosened your iron grip.

“Let’s go,” he said and quickly pulled you past the couple. You followed him in a daze. He stopped once you were outside of the building, hidden away in a quiet corner.

His hands reached for your face and he lifted your eyes to his. “Breathe.”

You closed your eyes, let out a long breath and let your head fall against the wall behind you. The horrible encounter replayed in your mind. You had to open your eyes again.

There he was right in front of you. Worried Jungkook, kind Jungkook, beautiful Jungkook.

Your hands reached behind his neck and you pulled him a bit closer. You tried to decipher his gaze, it was dark and yearning. Everything was a haze, the alcohol in your blood made you daring.

“Kiss me,” you whispered.

His mouth crashed against yours. Your hands slipped up into his hair and your bodies entwined. You opened your lips and sucked in his hot breath. Your tongues found each other; he groaned at your taste.

He moved one of his hands down your side until he found purchase on your leg and hitched it up against his waist, pressing his body further into you. You let out a moan when his hips ground into yours.

All your senses drowned in Jungkook. You drowned in his scent, you drowned in his touch, you drowned in his heat. You tried to use Jungkook to drown out the grotesque image from before. Suddenly the heat of the moment disappeared, and a cold shower ran down your spine.

You broke away from your breathless kiss and put your hands against Jungkook’s chest to put some distance between you. He gave you a disoriented look.

“I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have kissed.”

Jungkook’s eyes grew wide and alarmed. “Did I do something wrong?”

His lips were swollen, his hair was mussed. You wanted nothing more than to pull him back in, but you couldn’t. Not here. Not like this. He deserved better.

You pushed yourself off the wall and gave him a small shove. He immediately let go of you and stepped back. “I shouldn’t have kissed you like this,” was all you said before you ran back into the building.

The next day you woke up to a splitting headache and a heart full of regret. You really needed to talk to Jungkook and explain to him why you ran away the previous night, but you were too much of a coward to pick up your phone and contact him. You decided it was better to talk to him in person at school.

The following week at school you waited for him in the library. Your heart was in your throat. Your prepared speech played in an endless loop in your head.

‘I’m sorry I ran away. I shouldn’t have kissed you in that state. It wasn’t fair to you. You deserve better than that.’

You looked down on your phone to check the time. A message blinked. You opened and read through it. Your heart sank. He wasn’t coming. He wanted to study the last week before finals on his own. He thanked you for your time.

Slowly you got up and packed your bag. You blew it. You wanted to do him right, but you only caused him pain. Thinking back, you realized he gave and gave and gave and all you did was take. He was right to stay away from you. There was no way he’d be happy with someone like you.

The week passed and finals week commenced. You immersed yourself in your exams and tried to get over your heavy heart. You were pretty sure you aced Geometry II, but the Numerical Analysis exam was nothing but a blur.

Although your heart ached, you didn’t fall back into the same dark pit of the past. You didn’t feel lost, you got on with your life. Nobody noticed the Jungkook-sized hole in your heart except for you. You wanted to talk about your feelings, but you didn’t think Jisoo or your sister would understand. They’d probably just tell you to get out there and find a new guy.

Another week passed. You were walking out of your professor’s office, finalizing the details of your summer internship, when you bumped into Namjoon.

“Y/N! What are you doing here? Aren’t you off for summer break yet?” he asked.

“I was just discussing my internship with Prof. Kim,” you said.

“Ah you’re participating in his research program?” Namjoon said, “I heard it’s really interesting, he’s intense though.”

“I think intense is fine for me, I need something to do with my brain. Otherwise I’ll just go crazy,” you said with a smile.

“Speaking of intense, what did you do to that kid?” Namjoon suddenly asked.

You tensed. Did something happen to Jungkook? “What do you mean?”

“Did you brainwash him or something? He got a 98 on his SA final! When I handed him over to you, he was still asking me why the positive and negative z-scores tables had different values,” Namjoon said in awe.

Relief washed through you and your chest filled with pride. “Watch out sunbae, I might be coming for your TA position,” you said with a wink.

At home you sprawled out on the couch. Your sister’s classes ended earlier than yours so now she was away with her friends travelling the countryside. Your mind wandered as you stared up at the ceiling of your quiet apartment. You really wanted to call Jungkook and congratulate him, but you didn’t think you should. He clearly didn’t want to be in contact with you, you hadn’t heard anything from him since his text canceling your study sessions.

A pang of sadness washed through you. It should have been a happy moment for the both of you, you should be eating tangsuyuk together right now. You really wanted to tell someone about your joy and your grief.

Then you suddenly remembered your friend. Your friend who never judged and always had something wise to say. Maybe he would understand the conflicts of your heart. You got up and dug through the receipts on your desk until you found the one with his phone number on it.

You hoped he wouldn’t think you were crazy, but then again, he was the one who offered himself to talk to you any time. You typed in the number and hit call. Your phone dialed when suddenly the number displayed switched to a name. Jungkook.

You quickly hit the cancel button and stared at your phone. Did you accidentally hit Jungkook’s contact? Was your phone broken? This time you typed in the number more carefully and hit call. Again, the display switched to Jungkook’s name. You hit cancel.

Your heart began to race. You opened up Jungkook’s contact and compared it with the number on the receipt.

Holy shit.

JK was Jungkook. Jungkook was JK.

The stranger who cheered you on and made you smile whenever you felt down was Jungkook. You combed through all your receipts and reread them one by one. What was the probability for this to happen? This was so bizarre, but it made so much sense. Jungkook was the kindest person you knew. Why wouldn’t he be kind to a stranger who needed some uplifting words and comforting tangsuyuk?

[13/06 18:20 PM] User: LatteIsHorse ---------------- ORDER [DELIVERY]

3 Tangsuyuk (large) 6 Jjajangmyeon ---------------- Note: JK-nim, I hope you’re doing well! Can I ask you for a strange favor? Would you mind delivering today’s order to me? I would really like to meet you and thank you in person for always being by my side! <3

<Ding Dong>

The doorbell rang. Your heart pounded painfully in your chest. You slowly walked up to the door and opened it.

“Delivery from Golden…,” Jungkook’s voice faltered.

“Hi JK-nim,” you said quietly. You opened the door wider. “Thanks for coming today.”

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” he asked.

You had to smile at his look of utter confusion. “I live here. Come in, you can put the food on the dining table.” You turned around and walked back into the apartment.

Jungkook hesitated before he followed you inside. He moved up to the table and unloaded his box. He tried to steady himself. “You’re LatteIsHorse-nim?” he asked skeptically, “I’ve been here before. Last time someone else opened the door.”

He has visited you before? “Oh, that was probably my sister. I live here with her. She’s out travelling right now.”

“So you’re on your own right now? Why did you order so much food?” he asked. A giant mountain of neatly stacked dishes graced the table.

You came up and pried the metal box out of his hand. Then you moved in front of him and unclasped his bike helmet. He flinched at your sudden closeness.

“To celebrate. Congratulations on passing your Statistical Analysis exam. Namjoon told me you passed in flying colors,” you said in a gentle voice. “I promised you the best Chinese take-out in town, didn’t I?”

Jungkook still looked shell-shocked and simply stared at you.

“I’m sorry about that night at the Pre-Game party. I’m sorry I ran away. I owe you an explanation.”

Jungkook regained his wits and swallowed. “It’s okay, you don’t have to explain yourself. I get it, we were drunk. It was a mistake.” He looked down and tried to turn back around.

You grabbed onto his hands before he could move away. “Jungkook, look at me.”

He stopped turning, but his eyes remained on the floor.

You took a deep breath and squeezed his hands. “I really like you. I’ve really liked you for a while now.”

His eyes shot up to your face.

“The reason why I ran away that night was because I felt guilty. I probably would’ve ended up kissing you anyway, but in that moment, I kissed you because I wanted to forget. I didn’t want our first kiss to be like that. I wanted it to be the me who liked you and not the me who tried to drown out her shitty ex-boyfriend. I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

There was an unreadable look in his eyes. Your heart fluttered in nervousness. “How long have you known I was JK? How long did you know I had a crush on you?” he asked.

You could feel your blood rushing through your ears, the butterflies in your stomach beat like crazy. “Since today. I was sad because I thought I couldn’t share the promised meal with you. I wanted a friend to talk to, so I thought to call you. You who was always kind to me, even when I wasn’t kind to myself. Isn’t fate strange? We cheered each other on to find each other.” You had to laugh at the irony of it all.

Your hand hesitantly moved up to his face and stroked across his cheek, “I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I made you sad.”

Jungkook melted against your touch. “If I’m never sad, I won’t know when I’m happy.” Then he closed the gap and pressed his lips against yours.

It was a sweet but sad kiss. Filled with happiness and sorrow. Every touch was filled with an ‘I missed you’ or an ‘I’m sorry’.

Jungkook pressed you against the edge of your dining table, he lifted you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist. You both deepened your kiss. Your hands snaked through his hair and pulled him closer into you. Jungkook braced his hands against the table and instinctively ground his hips against your core. You moaned his name at the sensation. The both of you broke apart to catch your breaths, you pulled at his jacket and removed his layers of clothing.

You stilled at the sight of his bare chest. He was truly beautiful. Your fingers traced along his skin and marvelled at its silkiness. Jungkook shuddered under your touch. His hands moved under your shirt and you both lifted it off your head. Then you gripped his hands and slowly led them around your back, urging him to take off your bra. You wriggled out of your jeans and laid yourself completely bare in front of him. Jungkook stopped and stared at you, equally amazed.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.

Your heart swelled and you pulled him back into a kiss. Both his kisses and his hands left a burning trail down your body. His mouth sucked on the soft skin of your neck while his hands moved across your breast, across your stomach, lower and lower. Wetness gathered between your legs.

“Jungkook,” you sighed. The muscles of his back shifted under your touch.

He released your neck with a loud smack and looked at the artwork he created. He still couldn’t get over how overwhelmingly beautiful you were. Your cheeks flushed, eyes bright and his name at the tip of your tongue. He felt himself strain against his confines.

“Please,” you whimpered. You looked down at his hand and tried to silently command him to touch you.

He kept his eyes trained on your face when his fingers moved lower and slid through your folds. Another moan left your lovely lips. He teased you with his touches, gathering your wetness until he finally pushed down where you wanted him most. Your hands dug into his back, your hips bucked, and you threw your head back in pleasure. He steadied your hips with his other hand and slowly pushed a finger inside of you. Another loud moan echoed through the room.

Jungkook was transfixed by you. He added a second finger and started pushing in and out. Your eyes squeezed shut in pleasure and small breathless pants left your mouth. Jungkook increased the speed of his movement and marvelled at the way you reacted under his touch. Then he moved his mouth to your breast and closed his lips around your nipple. You raked your hands through his hair and arched into him. Your core tightened around his fingers. All your nerves were on fire.

You pulled him away from your breast and guided his mouth back to yours. Your tongue traced his lips and you swallowed his moan. You wanted more, you wanted him closer. His fingers curled and his thumb pressed down on you. Jungkook held you tight as you shuddered and fell apart around him.

He rested his forehead against yours, your breath mingled as you both panted into each other. He slowly removed his hand from you and traced his mouth with his slicked fingers, then he moved them to your lips. Your tongue licked the tips of his fingers. His grip tightened around your waist.

“I want to feel you,” you said.

Jungkook shuddered at your words. “Where is your room?”

“The door behind you.”

Jungkook lifted you off the table, you tightened your legs around him and gave him another kiss. He walked you both to your room and gently laid you down on your bed. He took off his pants, then slowly moved onto the bed and hovered above you.

“Tell me what you want,” he said.

Your fingers caressed his face. “I want you to be happy.”

Another shudder ran through him. “I am happy. What else?”

You traced his eyes, his nose, his lips. “I want to be the one making you happy.”

Jungkook couldn’t contain himself anymore. His heart felt like it was about to explode. He covered your body with his and pressed himself into you. Your eyes rolled back as he entered you slowly. You felt so full you wanted to burst out of your skin. You could feel how the Jungkook-sized whole in your heart filled up again.

He rocked into you and took your breath away. Your nails raked across his back and left red lines against his smooth skin. Jungkook ducked his head into the crook of your neck and moaned against your skin. Every pull dragged pleasure out of you, every push brought you closer together.

You wanted more. Jungkook gave you more.

You wanted him closer. Jungkook pushed deeper into you.

With every moan, Jungkook pushed harder, pushed deeper. He wanted to melt into you. He wanted the lines between you and him to disappear. Your desire was his desire. His pleasure was your pleasure.  

Jungkook could feel you tightening around him. He moved his mouth over yours and gave you an ardent kiss. The light of your desire turned brighter and brighter until it burst apart into a thousand little flames. You cried against his lips and let the heat consume you. Your body pulsed around his and the overwhelming sensation brought him right over the edge with you.

The both of you laid on your bed and clung to each other. Neither of you willing to let the other go. Your pounding chests beat in tandem. Jungkook stroked his hand across your hair and kissed your head.

“I want you to be happy too,” he said.

“I know,” you said as you smiled against his chest, “You make me happy.”

Jungkook pulled you tighter into him and you remained silent for a while. His hand traced lazy patterns against your skin. Your breathing evened out.

“Are you allergic to pineapple?” he suddenly asked.

You looked up at him in surprise. “No. Why?”

“Because you always order tangsuyuk without pineapple.”

“Oh. That’s because my sister hates pineapple.”

Jungkook frowned, you pulled yourself up and kissed the little ridges between his eyes.

“What?” you asked.

“I think the jjajangmyeon is all soggy by now,” he said.

You had to laugh. “Probably, but the tangsuyuk should still taste great.”

Jungkook kissed you with a smile. “You’re right, tangsuyuk always tastes great.”

°°°°°°°

02/05/20

Copyright © 2020 full-of-jams. All Rights Reserved. Do not copy, repost or translate without permission.

[heyyyharry]

THE 1 (inspired by "the 1" by Taylor Swift)

...in which Y/N sees her ex again in a dream.

Word count: 1.5k

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Y/N opened her eyes and found herself standing in a hallway. The walls on both sides were painted black, and so was the ceiling. There was only one door in front of her, and as she looked back over her shoulder, the hallway stretched far and beyond into the shadow of nothingness. She had no choice but to move forward. She reached the door, turned the handle, opened it and stepped in. Embraced by the warm orange light, she found herself in her bedroom. She wasn’t the only one there, though.

He was sitting on her bed. His eyes lit up with a smile when he saw her as if he’d been expecting her. Why is he here? she wondered, then asked aloud, “Am I dreaming?”

Harry chuckled and patted the spot beside him on the bed. Hesitantly, she came and sat down. She wanted to reach out and touch his face, feel his skin, but she wasn't sure she could. If she did that, and it wasn't a dream, she'd be embarrassed; if she did that, and it was a dream, she'd be disappointed.

"Why do you think so?" he asked. She hadn't heard his voice in years, only on videos. It was just as warm and homely as she'd remembered.

She felt tears stinging her eyes as she said, "Because you're in New York this week for a show."

He pressed his lips together, a haunting yet tender smile. "That's right," he said. "And you're in London. Warm and safe in your bed."

After a moment of nothing but silent eye contact and the rapid pounding of her nervous little heart, he asked, "You okay?" British people sometimes asked this question when they wanted to ask, "How are you?" So Y/N wasn't sure what Harry meant in this case. Did he want to know how she was, or was he just checking if she was okay after what had happened between them years ago?

"I'm okay," she answered. That should be good for both possible meanings of the question, she thought.

He nodded once, his expression neutral. "So am I," he said.

Those words stung her heart like a sharp needle. She didn't want to hear that he was okay. She wanted to know how much he'd suffered from the pain of leaving her. She wanted to hear how miserable he'd been ever since he'd cut her off without giving her closure. He wasn't allowed to be okay, not then, not now, not even after twenty years had passed.

Was this really a dream? Because shouldn't she get to hear what she'd wanted to hear instead of the bitter truth – that he was doing okay and only thinking of her as someone he pitied?

Harry sucked in a breath. “I’m so glad to see you again, honestly. When you finally see someone you haven’t seen in a while and know that they’re alright, it’s easier to breathe.”

Y/N nodded while fidgeting with the hem of her nightdress. She felt this way as well. “Did you miss me?” she asked.

“I always miss you,” he replied. “Even when we were together.”

“So why did you leave?” she trembled. “You just left without giving me closure. You cut me off. I-I didn’t know what I’d done wrong.”

“It had nothing to do with you.”

“Then why did I have to suffer?”

Harry stared at her with his wide eyes. Even if he was just a product of her imagination, that shocked reaction was almost too real. “I was just wrong for you,” he said. “But if I didn’t leave, you wouldn’t meet him. You’re happier now. I could never give you this.” Y/N felt embarrassed that she’d temporarily forgotten about her man. Maybe she hadn’t expected that the Y/N in this universe where Harry was still in her life, could be with someone else.

Smiling, Harry reached out, took her hand and squeezed; his fingers were warm. “We would never have what you now have with him, Y/N. You wanted a secure relationship with mutual trust, while ours was full of insecurities and anxiety. The highs were too high, and the lows were too low. It wasn’t good for either of us.”

“I get it,” Y/N sighed. “Still, you could’ve told me.”

“I was scared,” he admitted, regretfully. “I was a coward. And when I left I was stupid enough to think that maybe one day I could come back and we could have the kind of relationship you expected from me.”

“You wanted me to just wait around for you and welcome you back with open arms after you’d left me like that?” Y/N asked, offended.

Harry shook his head. “I knew you wouldn’t, but I was selfish enough to have hoped so.”

Y/N sat in silence for a long moment and pondered. “You know,” she started. “This is the conversation I wish we could have had in the real world. Do you...do you think the real you still remembers me?”

“Of course. You were a big part of my life.”

Y/N’s shoulders slumped with an exhale. “You’re only saying that because I want to believe that,” she said.

Harry didn’t respond, only smiling.

“You know,” she began again. “I thought I saw you at a bus stop last week.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Then I realised you would never take the bus, and it made me feel like a fool.”

Harry threw his head back and laughed. “That would’ve been a crowded bus stop for sure.”

“Definitely.” Y/N rolled her eyes, chuckling a little. “That night, I had a dream in which you were doing cool shit, then you met some woman on the internet and took her home.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you meet your guy on the internet, though?”

“Yeah.” Y/N shrugged. “I felt awful for being jealous in my dream. Maybe I just didn’t want to think you were leading the same happy life.”

“I’ve gone through a very public breakup after us, so I doubt I was leading the same happy life.”

After he’d left her, Harry had dated a model, and their breakup had been so nasty he’d written a whole album of breakup songs for that woman. Y/N hadn’t listened to it yet; she couldn’t.

“What time is it?” Harry asked suddenly, breaking Y/N’s train of thoughts. He whipped his head around to look at the clock on the wall behind them. “Almost 2 AM?” he gasped. “Damn, I think I should leave so you can get your sleep. It’s gonna be a busy day for you, love.”

Y/N opened her mouth to ask him to stay for a little longer. She had so many questions for him that she didn’t know which one to begin with. But then she remembered that she would never know more than what she already knew. Because this wasn’t the real Harry. He would only give her answers she wanted the real Harry to say.

“Okay,” she said as they both got up from the bed. “Thank you...for coming tonight. It’s nice to finally have closure.” He had visited her many nights before over the years, but this was the first night they’d ever had a proper conversation.

“I might not come back after this,” he said.

She was sad to hear it, but it was probably for the best. She couldn’t keep dreaming about him, because she loved her new man, and she deserved peace and happiness as much as Harry did.

So she nodded, lips pressed into a polite smile. Harry opened his arms, and they embraced for the first time in years. His hug felt too real. It was scary how she could remember exactly how it’d felt to replicate it in a dream.

When he let her go, he cupped her face and stroked her cheeks with his thumbs. “It would’ve been fun,” he said, “if I could’ve been the one.”

At this point, Y/N was holding back her tears. She told him, “If my wishes came true, it would’ve been you.”

Then, she woke up as her best friend rushed into the room, yelling about how she would be late for the ceremony if she slept in. Still dazed from her sleep, Y/N reached for her phone on the nightstand to check for a message that didn’t come. There was only a message from her man saying he couldn’t wait to see her in her wedding dress and that he loved her very much. She put down the phone and rolled out of bed. She was getting married today.

[bellisperennis0]

Friends w/ Benefits

Word count: 1,554

A/N: Showing Daddy Bishop some loving. Just your annoying fluff. Gif credit to creator, found off Google. Thank you for reading.

Warning: None

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Currently you were sitting outside Carniceria Reyes with both Angel and Ezekiel, chit chatting about your current situation. “Why don’t you just tell him how you feel y/n?” EZ speaks up. They had literally just tagged teamed you into admitting your true feelings you had for their El Presidente. “It’s not that easy Ezekiel. We agreed on No strings attached. We aren’t supposed to catch feelings.” You say, frustrated in yourself for allowing your feelings to get the better of you. “He has been really pissy and miserable these last two weeks without you. Trust me I would know! Apparently everything is Angels fault.” Angel speaks up, rolling his eyes. Both you and EZ chuckle “Well almost everything is your fault Angel.” Ezekiel says. “Shut up, boy scout!” Angel shoots back, throwing a piece of his lunch at him. “I needed to put some distance between us. It was getting too hard for me. Sleeping with him one night and then seeing a skanky hang around all over him at the clubhouse the next. I just couldn’t handle it anymore.” You sigh as you stare down at your lunch. “It’s Creepers birthday today and we are having a little thing at the Clubhouse tonight, just us, why don’t you come by?” Angel suggested. “I really don’t want to see him, Angel. I’m sorry!” You knew from the looks on their faces it was killing them to see you so down over all this. “We can come over and binge scary movies, like old times.” Ezekial suggested. The last thing you wanted were for them to put their lives on hold just for you. “No EZ, you both go and enjoy Creeps party. I’ve been working like crazy these last couple weeks; I have a bottle of wine, a bath tub and some sleazy Rom Com calling my name.” you slightly chuckle, as you get up from your seat. “I’m going to say bye to Pops, be right back.” Once you return back outside, EZ was on his bike putting on his helmet; meanwhile Angel was on the phone. “Yeah All right…see you in a few, Bish.” You hear Angel say. “Let me guess, Club shit!?” you ask with a chuckle. “Actually, he called to check up on you. Says you aren’t answering his calls. Wanted to know if you were showing up tonight, was disappointed when I told him you had plans.” Angel answers, you simply look down at your feet. Looking back up at the two brothers you give them a sad smile. Walking up to them you give them each a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll call when I get home. Drive safely!” you say as you go to unlock your car door, getting in and heading home.

After your somewhat emotional lunch with your favorite Reyes Men, you had gone home and took a nap. Waking up you look over at your phone and see a couple texts from Angel, one from EZ and a few missed calls from Bishop. Texting both Angel and Ezekiel back, you toss your phone back on the bed and start gathering your things for your bath. You had been soaking and enjoying your bath for about ten minutes when your phone began to ring. Grabbing it to see who it was, you hesitated when you saw Bishops name flash on your screen. You knew you couldn’t avoid him forever and you were honestly surprised that you were able to for this long. Sighing you answer it, putting it on speaker. “Obsispo!” you simply say. “Querida!? Glad you finally answered. Are you alright?” he asks. God, how you have missed his raspy voice, his touch, him! “I’m fine! Why are you calling Obispo?” you ask, silently kicking yourself for answering his call. “It’s lonely here without you.” He rasps out, the longing in his voice. “Aren’t you at the clubhouse with the boys?” you said, sounding more annoyed then you intended to. “Can I come over, so we can talk face-to-face? Please querida!?” he practically begged. Letting out a deep sigh you agreed. “Thank you, dulce. I’ll be there in twenty.” You smiled a little; you can just hear how he perked up when you agreed to see him. “I’ll be waiting” you say before you hang up. Jumping out the bath, you quickly get dressed and pick up a little before Bishop arrived. The sound of his motorcycle quickly approaching caused the butterflies in your stomach to begin to take flight. You cursed at yourself at how giddy you got at the thought of seeing Bishop.

Hearing his bike shut off you open the front door and lean against the door frame waiting for him to approach. The second his eyes lay on you standing there, he flashes you that gorgeous smile of his. “I brought some Chinese food, hope that’s okay?” he says lifting the bag in his hands up to show you. “I’m starving!” you admit. He walks up to you, pulling you close to him by your hip and placing a tender kiss to your forehead. You smile under his embrace; pulling away you led him inside, locking the door behind you. As you walk into your kitchen, Bishop was already placing all the boxes of food out onto the table. “Sit.” He says turning around to look at you. “I’ll grab some glasses and the wine” he says as he moves into the kitchen to grab the glasses and wine. You plop down onto the chair, taking a box of food and diving right in. You hear a little chuckle and look up to see Bishop standing there with wine glasses in one hand and the wine in the other. “What? I told you I was starving!” You say with a mouth full. “Clearly!” Bishop laughs as he takes his seat across from you. You both eat in a comfortable silence. Once you both were happily full, you began to pick up, until Bishop stops you. “Allow me, querida.” He says getting up, grabbing your hand to stop you. “Thank you!” you whisper to him, he simply smiles down at you.

You watched as Bishop moved around your kitchen putting everything away, almost as if this was his daily routine. You smiled to yourself with the thought of coming home every day to Bishop, to see him so relaxed and content as you have almost every time you were with him. “I can’t stand the thought of losing you” you say. Once you registered that that had just came out of your mouth, you began to silently panic. Bishop turned around to look at you, unable to read his face you had no idea what was going through his head. “I know when we started this we agreed to no string attached, all feelings go out the window, it was strictly sex. But I had feelings for you long before we started this. I just never thought they would be reciprocated. If only having you when you needed me was the only way to be with you, I was fine with it.” Everything was coming out like word vomit. As you were pouring your heart to Bishop you didn’t realize you had gotten up and were now pacing the room. Biting your lower lip, you finally looked up to Bishop. He stood there at your kitchen sink, you could tell he was trying to process everything you had just poured out to him. He pushed himself off the counter and slowly made his way towards you. Your heart racing, unsure if what he was about to say was going to completely destroy you or make you extremely happy.

He finally approached you, placing a hand on your hip and pulling you flush to him, his other hand gently cupping your cheek as his lips crashed into yours. Taking you by surprise at first, but you then quickly melted into his kiss; your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him even closer to you. Pulling away, he places his forehead to yours “You own my heart.” He whispers to you. A wide smile pulling on your face. “Do you mean it!?” you ask. “Why else do you think I came up with that stupid arrangement.” He says, you giggle. “why didn’t you just tell me?” you say, lightly shoving him. “well I could say the same for you, sweetheart.” He says giggling. “Point taken. So, what now?” you ask, not sure how to go about this new situation. Bishop just smiles down at you, grabbing your hand and leading you down the hall. “What are you doing, Obispo?” you asks as you follow him down the hall clearly heading towards your bedroom. “We got two weeks to make up for, sweetheart. And I gotta show you just how much I love you.” He says as he throws you over his shoulder with ease, and heads into your bedroom. “Obispo!” you shriek as he tosses you onto the bed. He quickly hovers over you, staring down at you with nothing but pure love on his face. He gently caresses your cheek with the back of his hand, “I love you!” he says. Grabbing the side of his face and smiling, “I love you!” you respond before pulling him down for a passionate kiss.

[stellarboystyles]

From the Dining Table

hello friends <3 this is my second fic for the HS1 Masterlist that @bfharry​ , @stylesloveclub​ and I have teamed up to write for you, hope you enjoy x

2.9k angst angst angst

For the first time in a long time, Harry was alone. It was a strong contrast to his old schedule, his days were always jam packed with press interviews, meetings, radio interviews, red carpets, appearances, talk show interviews, meet and greets, concerts...He was definitely a busy bee. 

He knows he should be happy. It should be unquestionably irie to simply relax and have some time to himself, but Harry is miserable. Has been ever since her. It’s been too long since he’s seen her eyes, those pretty eyes that he could get lost in for hours gazing back at him, and her smile. God, her smile could cheer him up in his darkest days. He can’t stop thinking about her cheeks and how he used to squish them while he cooed at how adorable she was because they’re the cutest cheeks he’s ever seen and whenever she would blush around him he’d brush his thumb across her cheeks and give her butterfly kisses across her soft skin. 

He loves her sense of humor, and how she could always make him laugh. Even if he thought he was having the worst day of his life, he saw her and nothing else mattered. Thinking about her personality made his heart thump in his chest. She was so sweet and kind, and so selfless. She was always doing things for other people and she was strong, and so supportive of everything. His lifestyle, his busy schedule, his privacy, everything. 

He loves her style, he definitely finds himself wearing things that he thinks she would like. She’s the one who inspired him to jump out of his comfort zone of tight jeans and chelsea boots and explore different colors, patterns, materials, and he’s forever grateful that she showed him that he could be himself, he swears she’s the real reason he truly blossomed into his own style. Not just around her, but that he could show the world who he really was as well. And she cares so much about animals, he loves watching her interact with them, one of his favorite memories being the time that she rescued a family of bunnies from a fox in Harry’s back garden and it was quite literally the sweetest thing his eyes had ever seen. He misses her tender heart and how gentle natured she is. 

He misses how he feels fireworks every time she touches him. He misses how her lips taste, how it feels when they move against his. He misses her soft skin, and how she smells like citron and rose. He misses waking up every morning and seeing her all sleepy as he kisses her all over. He misses how she used to touch him and he feels in his bones that no one could ever make him feel the way that she did. 

He misses all of that, all of her. Every single inch of her skin, every little bit of what makes her who she is. But he doesn’t get any of her. Not anymore. Instead, he’s alone in this random hotel room and awake at four in the morning because he can’t think about sleep. If he does, all he’d dream about is her. Not that being awake is any better because she is the only thing swirling around in his brain. Flashbacks are hell, especially when he can’t stop thinking about her being on top of him right now, looking completely fucked out of her mind as she rides his cock. He’d be pressing the back of his head into the pillows and she’d touch his chest and smooth her hands down to his lower belly and she’d be doing all the things that she knows drives him fucking wild.

He can’t help himself as he starts to lightly tease himself through the white sheet covering the lower half of his body and there’s a hitch in his breath at the feeling of his fingertips stroking his cock under the thin material. His eyes flutter closed and he’s got nothing on underneath and it just makes him think of her more because he thinks of how much she loved barebacking, and Harry really fucking loved it. The feeling was indescribable, feeling her so deeply on such an intimate level was something out of this world. With every thought of her his reflexes added more pressure, his body temperature rising with every moment passing by until he’d had enough and nearly rips the sheet away from his lower torso and he’s fisting himself now, chasing his release and all he can think about now is how much better she is at the act in question, so much so that it blew Harry’s mind. He didn’t last long, but at this point he didn’t give two fucks if he had an orgasm or not, he just needed to feel something. He was left in a daze as he pushed himself off the bed and towards the bathroom.

˙· .° ｡  ˚ ｡  ° . · ˚ ˙ · . ° ｡ ˚ ｡  ° . · ˙ · .° ｡ ˚ ｡ °.  · ˙ ‧̍̊

Long, hot showers were created for the sole purpose of contemplating your life, right? Or are they just for trying to cry away a broken heart. He doesn’t know the answer, nor does he know how long he stood there, before tilting his head back and letting the water splash onto his wet locks. Hot water from the shower head hitting his back. After around twenty minutes his skin was numb to the feeling. 

In the beginning he’d considered it all, but the reality? She left him, without any sort of reason. Harry’s spent weeks and weeks wracking his brain for something, anything he could’ve done so that he can apologize, make it right. Truly, he hadn’t felt that he’d done anything to upset her. So yes, he had every right to be angry. Maybe it was his fault. He’d spent endless sleepless nights staring at the ceiling of a hotel room, mostly because he couldn't bear to be home because everything reminded him of her, and his mind just couldn’t go there. His nights were spent tossing and turning, doing absolutely nothing until his friends finally convinced him to go out with them. 

He didn’t want to admit that it was better than wallowing in self pity all night, but it was. For the next few weeks, all Harry had gotten himself into a cycle. Go out, get drunk, and at the end of the night he’d always be unsatisfied. He kept telling himself he was never going out for the sole purpose to bring a girl that looked like her back to his hotel room, but that’s just what he was telling himself. Deep inside, he was struggling to feel anything. He was angry, sad, and broken.

She didn’t leave her bed for three days. Dejection mercilessly beat up her heart until it felt like there was nothing left. The heartbreak gnawed away at her. She was barely eating, couldn’t sleep and she had no one to blame but herself. She stayed huddled under the covers as she wallowed in self sorrow, knowing all too well that this was all her fault. 

It was a travesty. It should have never happened, especially not like this.

The connection they shared was unbreakable. It was evident that nothing could ever raze the bond that they created together. They made the best team, and they were inseparable. Everything was perfect. Harry was charming, loving and softhearted. 

Their love was like the ocean. It was tranquil and soothing, yet strong and deep. It was so incredibly breathtaking, but also had the intense potential to destroy. To put it simply, she was damaged. Way before she met Harry, and that was it. She thought she had it under control, she thought that they could make it. They did, for a while, but her demons caught up with her eventually. Everything heightened after she was exposed to all of it. The rumors, the paparazzi, the backlash. It triggered all the worst parts of her, the things that she had kept under control for so long. He tried to help her, tried to fix them. They both tried, but it just wasn’t working. 

Now, months later, she was here at the airport. She knew she had to go to him and try to make things right. Clutching her ticket in her hand, she slouched into her chair, staring at all the glowing red words that read “cancelled” across the board. How unlucky was she that she would be stuck at the airport, alone.

“Hi, d’you have any flights t’London for tonight?”

She could hear her heart thumping in her ears when she heard the voice at the desk a few feet away from behind her. It felt like every cell in her body was on fire, she hadn’t mentally prepared herself for what could happen yet! She was supposed to have a six hour flight to coach herself before this.

“A’right, thank you.”

Oh my god, is he gonna say something? Of course he won't, he hates me.

It felt like she didn’t know him anymore, this boy, this charming, sweet boy that she fell in love with. She was afraid of how angry he is, how bitter that she left. 

“Y/N?”

His voice was soft and hesitant, almost shaky.

Her eyes squeeze shut for a moment before looking up at him. He looked dumbfounded, at a loss for words. They couldn’t believe their eyes when they saw each other. He watched the color drain from her face, and he could feel his heart beating out of his chest. There they were, face to face in JFK Airport. Seeing each other for the first time since their downfall. 

The tension couldn’t get any thicker. Her eyes were locked onto his face, watching him give a pained expression before quickly brushing past her. 

“H, wait—”

“You don’t get t’call me tha’ anymore.” 

His voice was cold, biting back at her words over his shoulder. He didn’t stop sauntering across the airport and she struggled to keep up. 

“Please...I know I don’t deserve it, but can we talk?” She implores before pressing her lips together. “Please.”

His teeth clench before stopping in his tracks, turning around to face her. 

“Took y’long enough.” 

There was no hint of humor in his voice, no Styles charm, no cheeky smile, no dimples, nothing. 

“You look good.”

He scoffs, almost rolling his eyes because he know’s that she’s lying. He knows she’s being kind. 

“Looks can be deceiving.”

Shit.

“Right.” she nods, eyes falling down to his shoes. 

“How are you?”

“Miserable.” she answers honestly. 

“S’tha’ supposed t’be my fault?”

She felt her waterline start to sting, but he had every right to be bitter. 

“No,”

“Fuck, shouldn’t have said tha’, m’sorry.”

“No, it’s okay.” she shakes her head dismissively, brushing off his apology. “I deserved that.”

He lets out an exasperated sigh. “Are we really doin’ this right now?”

She gave him a look of desperation, silently begging him to stay. Begging him to listen, even if she didn’t deserve that from him, she knew she didn’t. Harry contemplated whether he should give her any of his time, miss his flight to listen to whatever sorry excuse for an apology she had. But, his heart was still soft for her. 

“Where were y’goin?” 

“I...I was coming to see you. I thought you’d be in London.”

She was going to London? 

“Y’were goin’ t’London?” he quirks, eyebrows furrowing slightly.

She nods. Yeah, to see you.

Harry has the biggest, yet quickest inner battle of his life. He wasn’t sure if letting you back into his house after what happened was the worst decision he’ll ever make or the best one, but he sure as hell  felt that it was the right one. 

“We can’t talk here.” he muttered, fumbling with his phone once it was pulled out of his pocket. “We can go back to mine.”

Her focus falters, eyes looking at anything but him. she hadn’t been there since…since she fucked up, to put it simply. Her nerves were on the verge of snapping into an anxiety attack.

The car ride to Harry’s house was...well, she couldn’t think of anything more awkward. Except the first moment they had stepped inside his house. Neither of them bothered to get their things out of the back of his car, the luggage quickly forgotten. 

It was evident that his energy was extremely low. The discoloration under his eyes was evident and it made her want to cry. She watches in agony as he trudged over to the fireplace mantle, fingertips padding the glass of the frame. Inside was a photo taken when he had taken you on a trip to Norway last October. The two of you were dressed in some cozy pajamas, cuddling on the sofa as Harry took the picture with his camera. 

“They weren’t rumors, if you were wondering.” 

Her heart aches at his words. She remembered the headlines that ripped at her heart. Tears started to well up in her eyes, intently listening to the broken boy in front of her. 

“I was alone, would try and drink ‘til they looked like you.” 

Look at me. I’m right here, look at me.

“Said your name.” he murmurs, eyes focused down to where he’s fumbling with his hands. “Didn’t mean too, slipped out.”

Don’t cry, please don’t cry.

“Please look at me.” she cries, desperately trying to reach him, her Harry. “Look at me.”

“Can’t.” he’s shaking his head, locks flopping in front of his face. “I...I-I can’t-” 

“Why not.” only a mere second passes by and it’s already too deafening for her to bear. “Tell me.”

“Because, you-” he gulps down a cry but tears are still filling his waterline. “You.”

It feels like time is frozen, like the only thing happening in the entire universe is this conversation. 

“What?”

“You.” he looks up and locks his eyes with hers. “It’s you, s’always gonna be you. There’s never gonna be anyone else.” 

She takes a step towards him, but he backs away and she swears he flinches and it breaks her heart.

“No, no, no. Y’don’t get t’do tha’. Don’ touch me.”

His words stung like venom inking through her veins.

“H-”

“No!” his eyes turn cold. “If you touch me, I...I won’t make it, I swear. Just- please.”

Just let me love you.

“I…” It’s too much for her to look at him, but she has to say it. He’s quiet, waiting for her to finish. 

“I’m sorry.” she cries out, squeezing her eyes closed. “I’m so sorry, I fucked up.”

“Look at me.” 

He repeats her previous words. Maybe it’s out of spite, but could she blame him? Not in the slightest. 

“You left me!” he snaps. “Why? What…” his chest is rising and falling faster than he can keep up with. “I’ve barely slept since you left, tryin’ t’think of what I did that was so awful.”

Guilt pangs through her as she watches him run his fingers through his hair in frustration, eyes averting to the floor.

“All I’ve ever done was treat y’like a princess,” he murmurs, kicking at the rug beneath his feet. “Sure, we were apart a lot, but I was starting fresh. We finally had time to do anythin’ we wanted. I thought you, of all people, would’ve wanted that.”

“I did, I-I still do.” 

“You’ve got a funny way of showin’ it.” 

She stayed silent, so he chose to pipe up again.

“Why.”

If she doesn’t say it now, she’ll never say it. This is her once chance to fix things.

“You were talking about things...moving fast, too fast,” she speaks barely above a whisper, the chipped blue polish on her nails suddenly becoming quite interesting. “And with everything that people were saying,”

“Know y’had a hard time, I know tha’. But I thought we worked through it. Then I wake up and you’re gone.”

“I got scared.” he sits down next to her as she’s talking. 

“Y’could’ve bloody told me tha’.” relief washes over him, but the temporary emotion is making him forget that the damage had already been done. “Would’ve understood.”

“I know.” she cried. “I panicked, and once I’d left, I felt like I couldn’t come back. I was so scared.”

“Y’can always come back t’me.” his voice is soft and he resists the urge to brush his thumb across her cheek. “I fuckin’ love you. Y’know that. Fuck’s sake, I was calling you, begging you for something.” he pried, not caring to wipe his eyes, now irritated from crying. “Why? Why didn’t you just talk to me?” 

Tears spilled onto your cheeks as you tried to apologize. “I wanted to. I don’t know why I didn’t, I’m so sorry.” 

“I want you to tell me everything. Tell me what scares you so we can work through those things together. Don’t just...don’t just leave.”

“It never should’ve happened that way.” she admits. “But I think maybe we just found each other at the wrong time.” she offers, and his eyes flicker to her face when he feels her fingertips graze his own. “Maybe someday, the time’ll be right for us.”

He loves her. Regardless of what she’s put him through, he loves her. 

“Tha’ time could be right now.” he speaks softly, moving his hand to hold hers. “For us.”

She looks up into his eyes, filled with hope and she moves her hands ever so slightly into his hold and he’s holding both of them now, and they're looking into each other’s eyes. 

“You think so?”

He nods, squeezing his grip gently. “Know so.” he brings her hands up to his lips, pressing a kiss to them. “We can make it.”

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Let him go, pt.2

Summary: When Nick decided to keep Y/N out of the loop regarding Lucifer Morningstar, he never imagined one of his worst fears would come to life - to lose her.

Warnings: ANGST

Word count: 2.2k

Part 1

“I can go in there.” I spoke up, annoyed sitting on the sidelines and being kept out of the loop. If Nick had anything to do with it, I’d have ended up either dead or in the church with the rest of them. I was lucky not to be at the Academy when the hunters came, even luckier I had found a pastime with a riveting Summoning and Bounding literature masterpieces.

“No. Not gonna happen.” Nick waved me off, not bothering to spare me a glance and I scoff.

“Why not?” Harvey raised an eyebrow, eyeing me with interest. He definitely had questions.

“Yeah…Why not?” Folding my arms across my chest, I tilt my head to the right ever so slightly with the faintest, coldest smile I could muster.

“Because I don’t want you there.” Nick’s lips press together and I roll my eyes, but Sabrina was faster than me with her reply.

“I’ll go. I was baptized with holy water, remember?” She smirked, shrugging my way.

“So was I.” I raise my hand, stating it a bit too bitterly. Jealousy isn’t easy, especially not when it’s between two women who greatly respect each other.

“I am half angel. I reckon I have a good chance to stop them.” Yet my mouth keeps moving as if I want to say YOU’RE NOT THAT SPECIAL SPELLMAN, but I don’t say it. I don’t, but I can sense someone’s in my mind, probing for answers. Usually I’d assume it’s the Weird sisters, but this is Ambrose. I just know it.

“NO. They despise nephillims more than witches!” Nick raises his voice, turning to me with a hostile look in his usually loving eyes. The hostility doesn’t come from anger or hate, it’s not animosity, rather worry. It’s fear. “I will.” Sabrina repeats with a sigh, glancing between Nick and me. His eyes remain on me, lips pursing as the eye contact breaks and I finally feel like I can breathe. “You’re not seriously gonna let her go alone, are you? It’s a suicide mission.” Harvey’s eyes wander to me, pleading. He wants me to go, especially after he heard of my roots – a half witch is usually less than impressive, but a half angel with witch blood is unseen. Well…until I appeared. “You don’t seriously think I tell her what to do, do you?” Nick smirks, shrugging it off. He watched them leave, his back turned to me and I felt uncomfortable for the first time since I’ve met him. Nick had let his girlfriend go, yet asked me to stay.

“I couldn’t…I can’t risk you. You’re all I have in this wretched life and if something happened to you, I don’t think I’d survive it.”  

His words aimed for my heart and I flinch with the sheer intensity of the truth hidden within each, emotional syllable. It was the first time he had made me feel as if I matter since Sabrina came along. I felt loved. I felt needed.

It didn’t last.

A week later he and I parted ways.

Nick stayed true to his word, giving me space to breathe and he had his hands full with the new Sabrina and her wish to convert the coven into a church per her father’s view. She wanted to make a difference and while I agreed with some of the teaching, I didn’t fall prey to her charm. Something didn’t feel right and while I was expertly kept out of the loop, I had time to realize how much of my life revolved around Nick.

What little I had left of him felt as if it never existed.

I can’t lie and say he didn’t reach out a few times. It wasn’t a face to face talk, but I did get a few messages on my arm – a little secret we used to have. An enchanted pen to talk in class, when he was away for holidays. It was our way to always stay in contact and from what I’ve learned, he had given our secret away when he made the same pen and gave it to Sabrina. I was no longer our thing. It was just a thing.

“You really should be more careful with your thoughts.” Ambrose Spellman settles beside me, a small smile playing on his lips as if he isn’t here to reprimand me for the distasteful thoughts I’ve had about his cousin.

“Stop peering into my mind and you won’t be as insulted.” I shrug, turning my attention back to the book I’ve been studying. I have always been one of the best students at the Academy. I’d go as far as to claim I’m at the same level as Nick, if not better.

“You do realize Nick is miserable without you.” Ambrose leans on his elbow, smirking once he notices I closed my eyes. “He’s always talking about you. I’m genuinely concerned Sabrina will spell his mouth shut.” He chuckles, looking around as if to make sure we’re alone. “I mean, there’s an apocalypse happening and in an hour, yet he’s still only interested in threatening everyone not to tell you a single word about it.”

Snapping the book shut, I sit up straighter and turn to Ambrose. “What, in the name of Satan, are you talking about?!” The smallest of smiles appear on my lips, assumptions of it being a well-crafted lie making my heart remain steady. However, the smallest inkling of it being a truth thrashed my usually peaceful mind.

“Sabrina’s father, aka Satan, wants to make her his queen and from what I’ve realized, it is happening tonight and we made plans to trap the dark lord but I have a feeling it might not be as easy.” Ambrose pauses as he notices me pale and I’m sure I’m barely keeping a straight face at this point. “Everyone’s in it, but you. Even the mortals.” Ambrose leans back, having set the bait and he knows this will be the reason why I engage.

“We’ll be waiting. You might want to pop in for the coronation.” Ambrose raised both hands in mock surrender as if he didn’t just drop a major bomb my way. He made his way out of the library while I grabbed my bag and frantically searched for the pen.

CORONATION?!

No response.

NICK!!

No response. I know he sees it. I know he feels it. But if he knew me, he knew it would only provoke me. Just because we lost each other doesn’t mean I don’t love him – as a friend, as a woman. I need him, even if he doesn’t really need me back. He may think he does, but he doesn’t.

I am the one who needs his whispers and smiles. I’m the one who needs promises sweet as the touch of his hand. I was a slow dying flower, turning sour and untouchable when he found me. He saved me. And ever since then I’ve needed the darkness, the sweetness and even now I need the sadness and weakness coming from loving him. I need his voice to lull me to sleep, his fingers running through my hair, the tender touches that brought me peace.

I need him. It was dark enough, he saw me, he had me – he just didn’t want me. He made his choice and I know what that choice brings. He’ll do anything for Sabrina. It’s who he is, how he always wanted to love and he will risk everything.

At the end of the day, I’m the one who has nothing left to lose. He has everything to live for. I love him enough to let him go…to protect him while I do it.

With a snap of my fingers, a long, blood red dress wraps around my body. The lace weaves around my arms into long sleeves, the silk falling down to my feet. A slight chill runs down my spine as wind dances along my uncovered back and I smile – the dress is perfect. With a sigh, a spell the only earthly possession I care about onto my neck, the pendant with his initials resting just above my low-cut decollete.

“So you always have me close to you.” Nick smiles widely and my heart stops. He’s so beautiful. I wonder if he knows that he’s more than just a body though. He’s beautiful, inside and out. And he’s gifting me jewelry, something I’ve never had. How did he know?

Struggling to keep my tears in, I smile, looking down on the half a heart pendant. “I love it.”

I love you. I wanted to tell him. I did. I wanted him to know and to hell with it, but I couldn’t. To be so brave, to tell him what weighs on me is to risk losing him. He’d be uncomfortable around me if he didn’t feel it and I couldn’t lose him. Not now. Not ever.

Instead of waiting for an invite, I followed the screams.

“Lanuae Magicae.”

Transporting myself into the ballroom wasn’t the plan, but I had to hurry. And I was right to.

“Well played, Spellman.” I hear Nick’s voice, instinctively looking for him and it seems as if he had felt me too as he turns to me, our eyes meeting. The surprise passing his features made my lips twitch, wanting to smile. It’s inevitable – Nick always makes me smile. But our reunion is cut short, the prison they tried to hold Satan in falling apart and I step back, looking to Nick in a panic, but he’s looking at her. He always is. “You try and try to defeat me. I am the Great Satan that no prison may contain!” Ignoring how handsome Lucifer is, I close my eyes and swallow thickly. Opening them again, I look at him and every time I look at him I know. I know he’s never going to be mine. But I can make sure he has his happy ending. “I can’t restrain him for long.” Sabrina warns and I take a step closer while Nick speaks. I always believed he’d be back to me – that we’d become more in time and we’d work out. We’d be the couple everyone envies – the power couple. I always wondered how he looks at me with so much love and tenderness but holds not romantic feelings. “There’s nothing stronger than an Acheron.” Nick exclaims, panic written on his face, fear rising in his eyes and clouding his judgment.

“Incorrect, Mr. Scratch. The mightiest prison is the first one, created by the False God. The human body. Flesh and bone. The strongest and most sacred bindings in nature.” Lilith explains, her own fear evident as she looks to Lucifer who was ready to kill everyone in the room. “It has to be me.” Sabrina says and I hear him scream “No” as he used to do for me. He doesn’t want to lose her. He can’t. He’d do anything for her and I’d do anything for him. “I’m the best binder and conjuror since Edward Spellman. If anyone can keep Him trapped, it’s me.” He exclaims, but I shake my head and look back at him only to see anything but certainty in his eyes. He feels like he must do it.

“No.” I step forth, determined – more than he is. “I am the best binder and conjuror.” Smiling, truthfully, I speak before he can interrupt me. “You love her. I love you. This is a testament to how much. Don’t forget me.” I plead, keeping my eyes on him as his lips quiver and shock paralyzes him. “Carne teneantur tenere tenebrasque.” I begin without so much as blinking. I don’t want to miss a single moment of the last time I will ever see him. Nick is trashing against someone. They’re holding him back. He’s muttering something and I can’t understand what, my focus must remain untouched. “Palatium, carcere…” And my mind darkens.

Gasping, I find myself on the sidelines, my body no longer mine to control as I leap toward Sabrina only for my eyes to close with Ambrose’s spell. “A sleeping spell. Well done.”

I think to myself, keeping an ear out to the outside. I can hear them, but it’s distant.

“You’ve made a big mistake, little nephillim.” Lucifer appears and I roll my eyes at him.

“Shh.” I point up, telling him to listen which only insults him.

“HOW DARE YOU TELL ME TO SHUT UP?!”

“Gah, you’re annoying.” I groan, casting a spell to bind him but it doesn’t work.

“Really thought you’re in control? Think again, little one!”

“Shit!”

What I didn’t know is how they decided my fate after I’ve fallen. “What happens now?” Sabrina asks, watching Nick crying over Y/N’s body, calling for her, muttering spells like it would make a difference. “You won’t like it, I’m afraid.” Lilith frowns, a sincere look of compassion in the borrowed eyes of Mary Wardwell.

“You’re not touching her!” Nick growls, his eyes focusing on her pale face and dark red lips – his favorite lipstick from the past times she’d asked for his opinion. He always chooses maroon. He won’t be able to again.

“She’s not going to Hell with you. I will make an impenetrable room at the Academy.” Nick promised, his heart aching and breaking at the sight of his necklace resting on her chest. She wore it – even now.

“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice.” And that’s when Nick fell asleep too.

PART 3

[imnotwolverine]

The Monster’s Lair - Bewitched

Vampire!Henry x Belle - multi-chapter

< Chap 8 | Chapter 9 - Bewitched | Chap 10 >

Disclaimer: Dark adult fairytale - mourning, angst, death, masturbation (M), hunting, bloodlust (I really don’t know how to tag this stuff people) 

Author’s note: This chapter just happened to turn into something quite..erotic and I don’t know why, but alas, I hope you will enjoy the read my lovely ones! 

Word count: 5.115

Reading music: Wardruna and Aurora - Helvegen (”way to Hel”) 

(Link to my Masterlist)

--

And he did.

He did bring Arthur back. The night dull as sullen tears fell from the skies, Belle watched from the highest tower as a dark silhouette appeared from the trees, in his arms a lifeless form. Her father, his face pale as a sheet.

Somewhere in her heart she had known; it hadn’t been right. The way he had sank through his knees, hands gripping for his chest. Her father was, despite his old age, a strong man. He may have coughed and limped, but not a day he would skip work. Not a day would he forgo his tasks because they were too menial or heavy. And thus it had been very uncharacteristic of him to give up like that. To accept defeat.

No. HE had not given up. His heart had.

Maybe indeed she was cursed. First her mother died. And now her father? Was this why everyone despised her? Kept her at a distance with snarky remarks and glowering eyes? Was that why?

Her chest ached with a tightness as more tears started to billow down her cheeks, her eyes watching the hooded figure below as he looked up, blue eyes hidden in the dusk of night. The Master. He was back. With her father. As he had promised.

And how..

‘Papa..’ Belle sniffled quietly, feet rushing down the stairs to meet the Master in the main hall.

---

Only the dead have seen; the end of war

The end of ball and chain,

Only the dead cannot starve and cry;

Or die again of shame,

With steady feet he moved silently through the stark of night, a milky moon illuminating the path through the castle gardens. The man in his arms felt weightless, but the weight on his shoulders was great. And despite his monsterly strength, he felt a strange heaviness in his limbs. His movements felt near sluggish, his eyes barely managing to take in the shapes around him as the castle’s silhouette appeared, a few lights welcoming him home.

Welcoming back his cold, unfeeling heart that suddenly didn’t feel so unfeeling anymore. Was he..sad? The Master swallowed in discomfort as he hoisted up the boney old man in his arms a bit more, his mind wandering aimlessly through the depths of his memories.

Long centuries ago this garden had been well-kept, a staff 50 heads strong working day and night to keep the ovens burning, breads baking, horses shoed and gardens bearing fruit. Those may have been good days, but those too had been his worst. He had been young, he could give himself that. But he had been unjust as well. He knew that now. What started with a miserable start of his marriage, soon escalated into an avalanche of terrible events. Mostly by his doing. He knew that too.

At the time he had thought he was just following his father’s orders. But his father never ordered him to cut his staff’s rations when a harvest failed. His father had never raised taxes so high that his people couldn’t afford the clothes on their backs. His father had not been so cruel.

He had.

And his wife had despised him for it. Her, more than any of the other people around him. And with her, it all started. The curse. The decay.

At first he thought it was nothing. As his father was stepping down from his role as Master of the lands, it was only natural that the young Master was feeling a bit stressed. A bit tense. Suddenly he was responsible for so many people, so many lives. Any man would feel a bit shaken in his boots, no matter how well trained he’d be.

But then it truly started. The sleepless nights, the terrible headaches, the strange itch beneath his skin. Like a million bugs crawling just beneath the surface, he’d scratch but feel no relief. He’d bathe and salve and pray. But no relief. For nights on end his nervous feet would pace through the nightly hallways of the castle, blood-shot eyes staring angrily at those smug looking portraits of his ancestors. How had they ever made it through? Was he doing something wrong? Why couldn’t he f*cking sleep? Was he so weak? So unsuitable for this position?

Was he a failure?

And thus he’d work himself and his staff even harder by the day-time. More hours. More labour. More extensions built. Larger gardens planted. More, more, more! He’d make sure he’d leave a lasting impression in the family name. He’d show that he was a great Master. That his father could be proud of him!  

That was until his father was found dead one morning, drowned in his bile whilst sleeping in his bed. A strange, peculiar death for a man that seemed to still be strong in his years. But alas, it happened when you lived a good life. God would say you had lived well enough and take you away.

The young Master had tried to shake off the sorrow that had then consumed his heart, his one last supporter now gone from his life. His father had been a difficult man to please, but at long last he had felt that he and his father had aligned. That his father had felt pride in calling him his son. But his father was now no more, the grave dug and the earth wet as winter had come and the first rainy snow had started to fall.

All that remained was a scornful wife, a starved-to-the-bone people, an overworked staff and a castle that would never be filled with children’s laughter or joy. His wife wouldn’t even have him to bed. He had failed. He had.

He knew it when Morgana disappeared. He knew it when his staff vanished, searching good fortune in neighbouring towns. He knew it when all he could think of was the great hunger that shook his bones, clattered his teeth. All he could think of was the empty growl in his filled stomach, the food on his lips ashen and the wine in his belly red, but not right.

Not the right kind of red.

Not the thick, sweet pulsing life force that throbbed and drummed in the veins behind terrified eyes. Oh, how strange an obsession it had become, his ears pricking and tongue licking eager lips whenever people got near. The Master knew that something was amiss then. This wasn’t normal at all. This wasn’t stress. This was..this was…

The curse.

From there on events came in quick succession. The kitchens went quiet, the hearths went out and life as he knew it became but a distant memory. When winter came again, the last of the staff had disappeared, taking with them the last glimmer of hope. Hope for a return to things as they had been, hope for his wife that she would one day be free.

And so she did the unthinkable. But also the inevitable, her broken-heart shattering now truly as she cast herself from the highest tower, broken bones lain in the soft white snow as that same delicious red oozed onto its fresh blanket. And he? He had just watched it happen. Watched how she had cried out in despair as he had returned from a tax retrieval, the evening fallen and the cold of night wrapping the castle and her heart in its cold embrace.

Cold.

He could feel it now.

Strange.

Looking up into the sky he awakened from his dream-like state, a soft drizzle kissing his hood as he studiously gazed upward to the darkened brickwork, the mortar eaten away by the overgrowth. A figure was standing way up high in the tower. Just like his wife had stood. And just like his wife had, she whimpered and wailed, the sound of her broken heart aching to be heard.

Belle.

His breath hitched at the sight of her, his cold heart quite feeling indeed as he felt a sudden urge to save her, the beat of the undead muscle now clearly thrumming in his ears. He needed to get to her! Keep her from doing what his wife had done. Keep her from casting him into an even deeper, hollower hole.  

--

The door burst open, bringing with it the icy winter winds, rain and one pair of panicked blue eyes. But Belle couldn’t care for it all. Not the weather and not the feral expression on the Master’s face. None of it. All she did was reach out for her father’s pale frame, her aching heart clenching as she saw that he was indeed without life.

‘I’m sorry.’ The Master whispered, shock ebbing away as his sorrowful blue eyes met with Belle’s tearful ones, their beautiful browns welling up with new salt water. ‘Papa..’ She whimpered, the soft shuffle of the Master’s staff now echoing through the entrance hall as they too gathered round to welcome their new guest. Albeit so that he would never be able to feel the warmth of their welcome.

And how warm he was welcomed.

With great tenderness he was placed in one of the guest rooms, his soaking wet clothes removed and replaced with nightly garments he had never owned. For tonight he’d sleep like a prince. Tonight he’d sleep a sleep that would never end, Belle’s watchful eyes guarding him along with the Master, his watchful eyes in turn watching Belle.  

He was feeling things.

Breaking away his eyes, he noticed his staff peaking through the door. Closets, chairs, candelabras and spoons. They were all here, but it was Lumiere who was the first to let out a silent sigh, his golden arm pushing the door open a bit further so he could quietly mimic what to do, his firey candles dancing as he wrapped an imaginary friend into an exaggerated hug. The Master blinked as his brows furrowed, careful eyes looking back at Belle, the sweet girl blissfully unaware of what was happening.

“Really?” The Master mouthed back at Lumiere, making the candelabra let out another sigh, this time loud enough to alarm the young woman.

Belle looked up, only noticing that the door was slightly further ajar than it had been moments ago, her eyes searching the room for visitors before she noticed the Master, his uncomfortable, near pained expression making her raise up an eyebrow.

‘What is it, milord?’ She asked quietly.

‘I eh..AHERM..eh..’ He got up from his chair and straightened his shoulders, then loosened them again, eyebrows furrowing deeper as he awkwardly opened his arms towards her. ‘Would you..eh..like a..’

Thankfully he didn’t need to finish that stumble of words, Belle’s small figure rushing from the bed to melt into his chest, her cheek pressing into his cold but beating heart. With hesitant hands the Master lowered his arms, folding his large hands around her corseted frame, the fabric so delicate beneath his fingertips. SHE was so delicate beneath his fingertips. As the night was strong, so was his beastly strength. One little snap of his hands could break her, he was aware of that. And so he held her as carefully as he could, his nostrils flaring as the smell of her was now near maddening.

With a slight dip of his head he sniffed her hair, the smooth brown locks smelling of soap, of wood fire, of life. And with life came blood. That delicious, slow thrumming force that lingered just beneath her porcelain skin. So sweet and enticing. Ugh..his teeth started to chatter again. That sweet, sweet blood. So, so…HMMMM...SO...

‘I-I’m sorry.’ The Master choked, releasing the embrace to storm away, leaving behind him a confusedly blinking Belle.

What was this all about? Did she do something wrong?

--

It was nearly suitable that come morn they were welcomed by a fresh blanket of snow, a low rectangular hole now dug into the icy earth at the family’s cemetery. With one perfect red wild rose in hand, Belle watched as the Master carefully lowered her father into his grave, his old body wrapped in fine cotton sheets, protecting him from the elements for just a moment longer.

As the Master climbed out, Belle stepped forward, her chest heaving in her tight corset as she lowered her gaze, eyes shutting for a moment as she quietly said her final goodbye. Goodbye. It was a strange word wasn’t it? The librarian had once explained that it was a term derived from “Godbwye”, which is a contraction of the phrase “God be with ye”. So here it was. God was with her father.

With a little bow of the head her eyes fluttered open again, the fine cotton shape laying before her matching quite beautifully with the white snow. It felt clean. New. Pristine, but..lonely too...She sniffled as she looked down upon the rose in her hand, its scarlet petals starting to shine with white little crystals as more snow had started to fall, dancing around them like a curtain of glitter.

Yes, this was goodbye.

With a sad smile she cast the rose on the cotton, her arms instinctively wrapping around her chest, in need of comfort. And comfort she received, quite unexpectedly. Especially after tonight’s abrupt departure, she was near baffled to find the Master’s hand on her shoulder. His touch cold, but welcoming nonetheless.

In fact, after he had left she had thought more of the Master, than of her father. The closeness of his presence, albeit only for such a short moment, had ignited a fire in her heart that she did not know it could hold. The whole world around her had fallen quiet, except for that strange clicking sound, his teeth chattering nervously in his mouth.

What was it with this strange man? She knew that he was a monster of sorts. And yet he was far too human for it to make sense. He was, or had been, refined. She knew it from his gestures, from his knowledge of etiquette, his ability to read and write so well - so very well indeed, the letter that he had written her still tucked in the book she kept in her pocket. Never had she met such a person. Such a man. Especially not so handsome. And so..awkwardly endearing.

Turning away from her father’s grave she was suddenly standing face to face with that manly monster, his sky blue eyes holding a quiet sorrow in them. Belle nodded, as if indicating she was done, but couldn’t help but let the words escape her mouth, escape her mind as the same question had continued to roll around in her brain throughout the night.

‘What made you a monster?’

For a moment the Master just stood there, unblinking eyes watching her with studious fascination, his face unreadable. And then it changed. His face melting into one of unexpected softness as he looked straight into her soul.

‘Why do you ask that, Belle?’ His voice was soft.

Belle shrugged, eyes not once looking away from his, though her voice was less certain. ‘Well. Eh..The first time I met you? The chat we had? You asked the question. But you then never gave me the answer. You never told me. Milord.’

A flicker of amusement lit up his eyes. ‘I see. Very well.’ The Master nodded.

--

In mere minutes the grave was filled back up with earth, the snow now starting to thicken as it whirled and whispered onto the castle yards. Belle and the Master made haste to get back inside, back to the heat of the library hearth where Belle warmed her hands and a cup of tea was awaiting her. The Master pulled out a seat for her before he settled in his great reading chair, the distance between them small enough for knees to touch. With quiet eyes the Master watched Belle for a few long minutes, her long fingers wrapped around the smooth porcelain as she blew over the hot liquid, steam arising in the air.

‘So..?’ Belle finally looked back at him, her eyes tearing away from the flames.

‘It can wait if you want. I understand if you are in need of..’ - ‘No, please. I could actually very much use some diversion right now.’ She turned slightly in her chair, tea cup lowered to her lap. ‘Please.’

The Master nodded, then hesitantly started to speak, his low and heavy voice telling of his tale as the fire crackled on and the day slowly passed, tea cups emptied and refilled numerous times. He told her of his family, his father, Morgana. The card laying. The rose. His stupidity. His wife. The curse. Everything.

When his story came to a silent close, he noticed her hand reaching out to him, fingertips carefully brushing over his cold, porcelain cheek. A tender caress. And then, quite unapologetically, she pulled up his lip, eyes wondrously studying the fangs beneath.

The Master wasn’t entirely sure how to respond, eyes nervously flicking to her fingertips. But she didn’t hurt him. In fact he could again feel the flutter of something inexplicable in his cold heart, like a bird was caught inside his rib cage, wishing to escape. It nearly hurt to ..feel, his hand gripping her wrist to still her movements as he tried to catch his breath. Nearly. But..no..it wasn’t..

‘Does it hurt?’ Belle asked quietly.

‘No.’ The Master shook his head, blue eyes boring back into hers. ‘It’s...it’s good.’

She was truly beautiful like this. Large doe eyes looking back at him. Not afraid, not teary eyed - though still red rimmed. She was calm, rosy lips slightly parted, chest rising and falling in her corset as the whole room went quiet. For a moment the Master could swear that he had gone deaf. Like he had been buried in a thick layer of snow, the world mute, but his eyes seeing. Was she feeling what he was feeling? His gaze lowered to her lips for a moment, studying the way she opened and closed them a little.

Was she trying to say something? Ask something? Did she need something?

‘Did it hurt when we..’ Belle swallowed. ‘..embraced?’

‘No.’ The Master shook his head again, understanding finally what she seeked. Could he contain himself? Give her what she wished? She surely deserved some effort on his part. Especially now, with her father passed away and her future uncertain. It was the least he could do, right? Silently the Master lifted from his chair, hands pulling up Belle before his fingers interlaced with hers, the distance between them so small that every next movement ran on pure bodily chemistry. Electric and nervous. Clumsy and new. The Master wasn’t sure about what to do.

But Belle, did.

Like a strange fever dream the Master felt the whole world shift. Felt the tingles run up his spine, the heat in his loin, the delicate brush of her breath as she leaned in closer. For a moment he felt heavy and light all at the same time. Needing, but satisfied. Nervous, but bold. He wasn’t even entirely sure anymore where his limbs were as all he could see was Belle, her large expectant eyes floating so close to his now. Those sweet lips slightly parted, ready to be..to be..

OH that smell. That sweet, maddening smell!

Without thinking the Master crushed himself into her, his fingers quick to interlace through her hair, lips crashing into her plush warm ones, capturing her. Oh how SWEET she was. She tasted. He hadn’t tasted such delicacy in years..centuries. Oh that SMELL! Her hair. Her musk. Her skin. Her..mmm.. taste. He deepened the kiss, tongue brushing over the inside over her lips, meeting her tongue in its wake. Slightly hesitant, but curious, her fingers now started to curl around his black velvet vest. Keeping him just where she needed him.

OH THAT SMELL.

The Master growled inwardly as he heard a faint moan somewhere in the back of her throat. She liked this? Oh GODS. Gods he ..he..

The rush of blood lust became nearly too much, his fangs desiring to click as the brush of her warm-blooded life was so close to his lips, so ready to be tasted. Oh how sweet she would taste if he..

NO.

With a tight grip, her face held between his two large palms, he pulled back, eyes widened in terror. No, he couldn’t do this. It was too much. ARGH! And thus, once more, he fled the scene, a soft wind following him as he ran out in the snowy world outside, willing himself to quiet the turmoil in his heart.

HE WAS FEELING.

ARGH! No this wasn’t right. This wasn’t right. He was a monster, for heaven’s sake! He shouldn’t. He couldn’t..he...ARGH!

With his tailcoat flying out behind him he ran and ran. But no matter where he went, the thundering in his heart wouldn’t quiet down. He could feel, he could FEEL! What sorcery was this?! With clicking teeth he felt the whole world crash down onto him, obliterating him after centuries of dullness. He could feel the strange hush of the snow beneath his boots, crunching and powdery. The cold as it licked at his porcelain skin, tingled at his fingertips. The pounding of his heart as it thrummed in his ear drums. The taste..the taste that lingered of her honey sweet lips. And her blood. Oh, he could still smell it.

*Click click click*

His restless jaw gnawed into nothingness, long fangs appearing from beneath his curled up lips. If he wanted to return to that castle, he needed to get himself back in order. Reign back whatever the hell was going on with him. Perhaps he needed to feed. Yes. He hadn’t hunted in a few days now. He was probably just starving.

And so the Master set out on sniffing any potential victims, the cold air sharp in his nose as he inhaled deeply. Lots of small animals he could find, along with a sleeping bear not far off. No. Not that. And then he smelled it, rich and nervous, sweet blood seeping from a wounded deer, her breath shallow as death was starting to cover her hazed, glazy eyes. With vampiric precision he could even note how old the beautiful animal must be. How and where she had fallen down. It was like the forest whispered it into his ears. Told him any detail that a predator could need.

Perfect! The Master sped off, his fast pacing feet soon finding the poor animal as it struggled to get up from the pool of sticky red blood.

‘Sshhh..’ The Master hushed, large hand palming the thumping jugular of the nervous animal. His teeth started to click again, the sound echoing through the tall pine trees as his eyes slowly gazed down upon the bloodied fur of the trembling creature. With glassy eyes the doe looked back at the vampire as he brushed a hand over the claw-marked wounds on her chest and belly. She had been attacked. Though not by the bear he had spotted earlier. The claw marks were too fine, though also messy in execution. Had it been a young predator? The Master couldn’t quite figure it out, but he also couldn’t care any longer, his stomach grumbling at the notion of fresh blood ready for drinking. Bending forward, hands tilting up the pretty long neck beneath his fingertips, he sniffed again. Oh so sweet.

Though not as sweet as hers. Belle’s.

ARGH, couldn’t he just quiet his mind for a second? Forget about..about… Reaching out his tongue he lapped on the sticky red as it flowed down from one of the wounds, the taste like cocaine to his veins, his whole body burning up with desire. It always confused the Master why he felt this way when he drank blood, but, then again, it was the way it was.

As he started to nibble and suckle on the open wounds, fangs digging into the soft flesh of the dying deer, all he could feel was a growing ache for relief, his loins tightening to a painful degree. And with every drop of blood the need intensified, his hands clenching around the poor deer’s neck, near breaking it as it started to struggle to get away from the beast. In vain though. The Master was too strong and too eager to drink his fill, the red life dripping in little trickles down his porcelain skin as he gulped down the tangy sweet goodness.

After a few long minutes, the Master was both finished..and just getting started. With his breeches now filled out to a mighty degree he let the deer drop back into the bloodied snow, her form drained of life. What a day of death it was indeed, the Master thought, licking his scarlet stained lips. But what a day of life as well. Long fingertips grazed over the coarse material of his breeches, feeling the throbbing length that was begging to be released from its confines. Hmmm… A low moan escaped his throat as he wondered why it was now, after so many centuries of nothingness, that he could feel again.

Sure, he had felt before. But it had all been dull, void, unpleasurable. Everything he did was done and touched with purpose. Not because it simply pleased him. But Belle had pleased him terribly. Even now he could taste the sweetness of her tongue as it had brushed back against his.

Nimble fingers made light work of the lacing of his breeches, his hard length springing free as the Master sat back in the blanket of snow, cold licking at his frame. He was a sight to behold like this. Dark, elegant clothes hanging disheveled from his strong physique, hard jawline clenched in focus as his fingers wrapped around his erection, tugging at it with a need for cooling down. Cooling down the need as it rushed through his veins, tightened his muscles, widened his eyes.

OH..fuck. He could indeed feel more. He could feel the cold as it licked on his velvety hard member, a few stray falling snowflakes kissing his sensitive skin. FUCKKK. Whatever had happened today. He needed it again. And again. Though at what risk? He knew not how well he could reign himself in, the mere scent of the pretty young woman enough to make him dizzy in his head. In his cock. FUCK. Tugging more harshly, mouth pulled into a snarl, he eyed up at the sky, its hues grey and purple, foreboding more snow to come.

He needed to find a way. He had to. He didn’t want to hurt her, he didn’t. He.. AHH..YES..he needed to find a way. AHHHH. His balls started to tighten, along with his breath, his lungs stuck in his large chest as he started to feel his legs tremble, eyes keeping their gaze up at the sky.

Please, let me find a way. Please.

--------

But when you are cursed, release is hard to find. Even after helping himself to some relief, it was never enough to face Belle again. Not now at least. Even as his boots walked back up the path to the castle, he could feel the restless drum in his clear beating heart. Even now he could feel, albeit less sharply and overwhelmingly as before.

Hesitating a moment longer, feet halting in the castle gardens now evening was soon to fall, he made a B-line for the small family graveyard, eyes first picking up the new mound which he had dug just a night earlier. Arthur. The poor man had willingly given his life to save his daughter. The least the Master could do was make an attempt at doing the same. He would do whatever it’d take. Anything.

Inhaling the clean fresh scent of the snow, his gaze moved on, on towards the next grave, a beautiful tombstone dusted with the powdery white. His wife. A heavy lump sank into his throat as he gently brushed off the snow to see her name engraved. And that annoying etching. He had nearly forgotten about it. Swishing his hands over the rest of the stone, the maliciously carved text appeared back into view.

I condemn you, beast, as only true love shall prevail.

True love.

He had been so angry when he had found that text in his wife’s tombstone. How dare they! But then, when he tried to convince the stonemason to create a new one, the man refused. HOW DARE HE! The Master had nearly slain the man right then and there, on the spot. But thankfully he had managed to at least stop himself from performing such a hideous crime. No. He never managed to get a new tombstone for his wife, and so now, even to this day, that malicious text stood there, etched into the cold stone.

True.. love. True love. True love..?

--

The hearth in Belle’s room had nearly died down, her exhausted body still dressed in her blue dress as she had not even managed to get herself out of its tight constraints before sleep had taken her. With careful steps the Master walked further into the room, a few slumbering pieces of furniture blinking open an eye. ‘Sshh.’ The Master hushed, index finger resting on his lips before he reached out to at least pull a blanket over the sleeping maiden.

For a moment she stirred, her sleeping face turning towards him, cheek still glimmering with the many tears she had shed. And again, his heartstrings pulled painfully tight, his eyebrows furrowing. Oh he truly needed to stop running away from her. The poor girl had it rough enough as it was. Her father died. She was chased away from her village. She was all alone. Except for of course his company. But what good company was he, to begin with?

He was a monster, for heaven’s sake! He could never..never…

He slumped down on the edge of the mattress, the bed shifting slightly beneath his weight. But thankfully she didn’t wake, her face still calm as dreams had taken her away to a world that was hopefully more serene, more kind. More deserving of her blissful presence. Oh, she was so beautiful. She was. A tender finger traced the sticky salt on her porcelain skin, wiping away its residue. Oh Belle..

The Master couldn’t lie; he was glad she had returned to him, even though he wasn’t sure how to proceed. He wasn’t sure if he could ever give her what she needed, deserved. He was a broken thing. A cursed thing. 

And now, a bewitched thing, as well. 

--

Chap 10 > 

--

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[deepslateemeraldore]

goin’ crazy from the moment i met you

for the @itfandomprompts gift exchange! this is my gift for @a-portable-snack who requested “ (college Au) Losers go to karaoke and Richie sings Untouched by the Veronicas to Eddie drunkenly and Reddie Chaos ensues “! hope you enjoy this!!!

   - 4k words   - Mentions of weed and alcohol   - Mentions of Bill’s past relationship   - Talks of crushes

  Sleepy college towns are never really thought of as anything other than that. They’re small, oftentimes quiet communities, with bands of young adults trying to find their places in the grand scheme of things. There’s heartbreak, love, loss, and on occasion, loud drunken nights singing karaoke obnoxiously and proudly in the shitty little dive bars that offered such sad excuses for attention. Who in their right mind would find such an embarrassing pastime enjoyable?  

   The answer: Eddie Kaspbrak. A rising star in the world of local track and field, and often found running wild with his band of misfits on the weekends (though, to him, the fact that they were misfits is what made their bond so strong). He couldn’t help the image that the town had put together about him, trotting at the heels of the other town losers; Bill Denbrough, Mike Hanlon, Stanley Uris, Beverly Marsh, Ben Hanscom, and last but not least, Richard Tozier (though, calling him anything besides “Richie” was bound to get you an earful unless you were his mother). 

 If only the judging eyes could see Eddie, laughing himself sick amongst said friends, singing songs that hadn’t been popular since his elementary school years. They’d take turns picking their most hated songs to sing at each other while the recipient of that round would make sour faces at the offender (but secretly, they wouldn’t be upset. They’d think it was the most hilarious thing, only to be replaced by the following week's act of tomfoolery and embarrassment).

 In fact, karaoke had become a sort of group therapy for the clan of friends. It fell into routine after everyone’s first year at college ended with Richie using his newly acquired fake ID to load up the back of Bev’s car with enough beer to last a whole winter. The three drank at Bill’s until their knees went numb, and ended up wandering around downtown for a bit, stumbling into a shitty dive when the need for greasy food set in. By mistake, Bev signed up for karaoke, and the rest is history. Ben came the next time with Mike, who invited Stanley who invited Eddie. The latter of the two had stood solid on their stance of karaoke being dumb and childish until they’d decided to duet to “Total Eclipse of the Heart” in homage to changing majors. Eddie had never felt more alive than in that moment. 

 Over time, the song selection had grown from moody teenage anthems to half-time show routines, before settling comfortably in a genre appealing to only the chaotically single and nostalgically lonely. That’s not to say they were sad songs, oftentimes they were very fun and upbeat songs, but lyrically they could bring a drunk Bill Denbrough to his knees (though that was a very easy task that only required a small amount of hard liquor). 

 However, one particular night at the Bleu Jay will forever have a choke hold on Eddie Kaspbrak’s tender heart. 

 It was an average Saturday in late March, and he and Bev had spent the morning at various craft stores hunting for diploma frames. Bev had graduated the past winter with a BA in Textile and Apparel Studies, immediately accepting an offer to work with the Penobscot Theatre (along with several other theatres in Maine). She became impassioned for the art made by local seamstresses, and it was clear the feeling was mutual as soon as she joined the team. 

 Eddie would be graduating at the end of that spring with a Bachelors in Statistics (although it was assumed he would enroll in a new program for Anatomy and Biology the coming fall), becoming the fourth of his friend group to get his degree. And he was proud of himself, little “Wheezie” Kaspbrak, coddled by his mother until he could break free, going to college against family wishes and proving that he had more to him than what was publicly thought. And it was exhilarating in the same vein, existing outside of his mother's (womb) house. 

 And, as almost every Saturday since becoming legal went, they set out to celebrate with drinks. And karaoke. 

 Mike and Stan arrived first, Bill, Ben, and Richie next, and lastly, Bev and Eddie. The agreed upon meeting time was always seven thirty, and like every Saturday, Bev and Eddie were late. 

 “Man, you guys are s-s-so late,” Bill slurred, sitting shotgun in Ben’s car with the door propped open. Bev hadn’t even put the car park by the time the smell of shitty weed had made itself known. Bev giggled as she opened her door, shooting Eddie a look as if to say “this should be hilarious.” Eddie followed Bev’s lead, opening the door of the ‘99 Camry, careful not to slam the door too hard, and checking that the mirror had not fallen off (again. It was a junk car, but it ran like a dream, Bev would say). 

 “I already sm-smoked all Richie’s weed, Bev.” Bill followed up. Eddie took one solid look at his friend and let out his own little laugh. Mike led everyone from the parking lot into the bar, and after having their IDs checked (they came weekly, at this point you’d think the poor old bouncer wouldn’t care) they made way to their table. It was the only horseshoe booth in the place, furthest away from the bar counter, and the best place to be loud without getting any funny looks from other patrons. They were also the largest group to ever set foot in the dive.

 Mike would always sit in the middle, Stan and Bill on either side of him, Ben then Bev sitting to Stan’s left, Richie then Eddie to Bill’s right. Just like always. Stan ordered the first round of drinks, making sure to order Bill’s Bloody Mary with more tomato juice and less vodka (the conversation outside the bar between he and Richie about Bill being a “One Hit Wonder” went right over the accused’s head, making for a good laugh all around) and Eddie’s Appletini sans garnish. Bev chimed in to ask for a basket of fries, making Stan’s eyes shine bright. 

 “I knew there was a reason we’ve kept you around, Marsh.” He teased, clapping a hand on her shoulder. Ben smiled at the interaction, happy to see the most tense member of their group relaxing so soon into the evening. As soon as the waiter stepped away, small talk grew into a medium rumble, and talk about classes and grad school and professors everyone hated began to snowball. It only got worse as drinks made their way around.

 “I thought Richie said Short was a good head for the theatre department?” Mike asked Bev softly. Before Bev could respond, Richie had butted in. 

 “No, Mikey, I said Short gives good head to the theatre department,” Was Richie’s reply as he knocked back a shot of Jameson and winced. “Everyone loves a good gum job from-“

 “Beep Beep, Richie.” That was Eddie, exasperated having to hear about the old guy for what felt like the hundredth time. Richie turned to his friend, mock hurt, and scoffed. 

 “But Ed’s, you love to hear about me getting all the foxy grandpas and-“ Eddie’s cheeks flushed pink. 

 “I said beep beep, Dick. Shut up.” Richie stared at Eddie meekly as Eddie turned back to the group and picked up his martini. Without missing a beat, he spoke to Bill. 

 “So, are you and Audra on speaking terms now?” The table sat quiet as Eddie spoke, partially because the tone he’d just used was borderline frightening, but also because Richie had never shut up that quickly before. Bev would have to commend him on it later. Bill cleared his throat. 

 “We t-t-talked about it on Wednesday. I went to s-see her after her shift and all was f-fine. She said she’d rather see me h-happy with a guy than mi-miserable with her.” He shrugged, taking a sip of the water Stan had slyly moved closer to him. Bev nodded, as did Ben, Richie, Eddie. Everyone took a drink. Richie cleared his throat.

 “I’m happy for you, man. Really. Growth and all that shit. Mazel tov or whatever.” Everyone laughed save for Stan, who groaned, sinking into the booth. 

 “So, are we tipsy enough to start singing or does the Donner Party minus Bill need another round?” Richie asked, looking around the table. He was met with stares of confusion. 

 “Why are we the Donner Party minus Bill?” Ben inquired trying to connect the dots mentally. 

 “Because Bill fell off the wagon after I let him hit BabySpice in the parking lot.”  Ben nodded, not bothering to inquire further. Bill made a noise of protest, but was too eager to make a fool of himself on the small bar stage to say otherwise. 

 And so the night began. They moved as a herd to the DJ booth, signing their names after finding a song (although, Eddie had to sign Bill’s name and song, seeing as the lightweight was a bit too fucked up to hold the pen properly. Seriously, one hit and half a Bloody Mary?), then retreating back to the booth, awaiting their names being called to the stage when it was time. They had a few more sips and laughs in between.

 Mike was called first. Mike usually went first just to ease the tension, but tonight he seemed almost a bit too excited to go first. 

 “Is it just me, or is he skipping up there?” Eddie asked Richie, leaning in and whispering while still keeping his eyes on Mike. He felt Richie lean in a little closer to him, too, making his cheeks flush pink again. 

 “I think he might have a crush on someone,” Richie motioned with his head to Bill very subtly. “But, you didn’t hear that from me.” Eddie’s eyes grew to the size of saucers as he turned to face Richie, who smirked and held a finger up to his lips. “Shhh.” Eddie let out a light chuckle, turning his attention back to Mike on stage. The song started up as Mike waved to his friends, who smiled back and began to sway to the music. 

 Eddie smiled to himself as he zoned out, thinking about what Richie has just said. Mike and Bill. Bill and Mike. It didn’t bother Eddie in the slightest, in fact, he became almost excited at the thought of them two dating. They’d always been close, and they’d always made a really good team. And if Bill thought the same way about Mike, then that’d be just dandy! But Bill did just get out of a relationship, but he also seemed happy to bring up the whole “happier with a guy” thing… who knows? Not Eddie. Not in the slightest. Eddie reached for his drink, bringing it close and sipping it throughout Mike’s song, thinking. 

 He thought about “crushes” he’s had in the past on a few girls from his childhood, then the crushes he had in middle and high school on boys, and the crush that he’s had on the same boy since high school. He felt his neck grow hot and downed the last few sips of his martini. Mike’s song ended and they all cheered, although Eddie wouldn’t have been able to tell you what song he’d even sang. The waiter came by their table as Mike came back, earning a pat on the back from Ben (who was up next) and a thumbs up from Bill who appeared to be… blushing? God, if Bill was blushing then I must look like a damn lobster, Eddie thought, then turned to the waiter and asked for a Long Island Iced Tea, sub the rum for extra tequila. 

 The waiter was back within the first minute of Ben’s song, prompting Eddie to waste no time sucking his drink down. His first sip took a bit more than a third of the glass and burned only slightly on its way down. He took another big sip, the glass now just below halfway, which earned a sneering chuckle from Richie, lightly sipping his fourth Jack & Coke.

 “You got a hot date or s’mthin?” Richie asked, almost a little too close to Eddie’s ear.

Now I probably look like a ripe fucking beet, just peachy. Eddie blinked, turned his head to look at Stan and jeered back:

 “Yes, actually. Stanley and I were talking about bringing a himbo or two back to the condo. Why, you think you qualify?” It was Eddie’s turn to smirk, and the blank look on Richie’s face counted as a victory in his book. Eddie focused his attention back to Ben on stage, clapping for his friend as the song finished, hoping his blush was subtle. Richie sat completely still.

 Bev went after Ben, planting a kiss on his cheek as they walked past each other. Bev sang “Baby Got Back”, much to the surprise of everyone other than Eddie (they’d discussed these important matters on the drive). Bill went after Bev, Richie after Bill (although in everyone’s mind, the “Tequila” song did not count, which earned him a do-over for after Stan went), Eddie after Richie (Eddie was also razzed for choosing “Sweet Caroline” due to its extremely popular nature with the drunk crowd), and Stan following last. Eddie had enjoyed Stan’s song, “SexyBack” but only because once Stan was nearing drunk, he would go all out with his dance moves, getting the entire bar (really, the only 5 others in the bar besides the losers) to clap with him. It was fun! It was all fun! 

 Until Richie got up to perform his do-over song. Eddie had gotten up to let him out of the booth, but the way Richie’s normally swinging gait sagged was cause for concern in Eddie’s inebriated mind. Bill, now far too “drunk” from a grand total of three and a half shots worth of alcohol, was whooping and hollering as Richie talked to the DJ. Eddie was prepared, as was the rest of the table, for Richie to choose something to get off easy, something in the family of “Rolling in the Deep” or “Jolene”, with Stan bidding on “Hand in my Pocket” because “it’s just a karaoke classic!”. 

 The conversation roaring around the table while Richie and the DJ looked for some song that wasn’t coming up in the catalog turned to making fun of Bill, who had claimed his “high was wearing off” and that he had “never been this brunk defore”, earning a hearty laugh from the six. Stan and Eddie worked to prop Bill up so he was at least not head first on the table. In fact, they would’ve all missed Richie starting if it hadn’t been for the tapping on the microphone, followed by:

 “Hello, I am slightly tipsy and extremely sorry for what you are all about to see.” Violins came from the speakers surrounding the stage, and when Eddie looked at the screen behind Richie’s head, the panic set in, surrounding the bar in the sounds of 2000’s pop. 

 Richie began to dance, albeit very poorly, to “Untouched” by The Veronicas. He was a little drunk. Eddie was a little drunk. A man sitting at a booth near the DJ was clapping and cheering, and also probably a little drunk. The losers were clapping and cheering. Eddie felt like he was inside an ice cube, and also like he was going to pass out. 

 “I go ooh ooh, you go aah aah,

Lalalala, lalalala,” Richie began to sing, his voice reaching somewhere between a valley girl and a horrible Britney Spears impression. 

“I wanna wanna wanna get get get what I want, don’t stop,” Richie sang to the man in the booth, who hadn’t stopped clapping. It occurred to Eddie in that moment that Richie couldn’t be drunk. Drunk Richie was funny, aloof, extra clumsy, and could barely mutter out a proper sentence. No amount of alcohol would make him do this.

 Eddie tore his eyes away from his friend on stage, intensely studying the remaining ice in his glass. He tried to bring a hand up to fiddle with the straw, to keep himself distracted, but the way his hand shook was going to give away everything he was trying to keep in. Don’t look up. Don’t look up. Don’t look UP. If he thought about it hard enough, Eddie supposed he could have made himself throw up from the amount of sudden stress (which was code for Gay Panic) building in his abdomen. He could faintly hear Bev and Bill cheering, and out of the corner of his eye caught Stan standing up in the booth to join in the support of his friend. Close your eyes. Close your eyes. Close your eyes. 

  “Cause you’re the only one who’s on my mind, I’ll never ever let you leave, I’ll try to stop time forever, never wanna hear you say goodbye,” jerked Eddie back to reality, but only because he could feel his worst fear currently coming true. 

 Richie had stepped off the stage, and Eddie had looked over at him just as he had made his way through the small crowd of the bar (and as far as the mic cord would allow). Eddie could feel the eyes shift to him, and was certain that if you hooked him up to an EKG, he would be legally pronounced dead. 

 “I feel so untouched and I want you so much, that I just can’t resist you,” Eddie could tell by the look in his eyes, Richie was determined about something. 

 “It’s not enough to say that I miss you,” maybe this was directed at Bill, because Richie had a crush on him once upon a time. 

 “I feel so untouched right now, need you so much somehow, I can’t forget you,” or maybe this was directed at the guy, sitting alone by the DJ who hasn’t stopped clapping. Maybe Richie was being dramatic, building tension. 

 “Goin crazy from the moment I met you.” It was the direct eye contact Eddie had accidentally made with Richie that kick started his heart. This was directed at him holy shit. 

 “And I need you so much,” Eddie could hear Bev yelling for him to get up, he could feel Stan trying to shove him out of the booth, to go up there right fucking now because this is your one fucking chance. And like some miserable, absolute asinine fool, Eddie stood up, betraying every nerve in his body. He couldn’t hear Richie singing anymore, he could hear anyone in the bar clapping or hollering, hell he could barely even make out Richie’s face as he walked towards him. He watched his lips move, god I’ve never wanted to kiss someone more than right now, tip toeing, trying to keep his balance, trying to make it to Richie before someone else takes the opportunity. 

 There were only a handful of times where Eddie Kaspbrak had felt completely in charge of his situation. The most notable being the day the town bullies broke his arm, and instead of letting them win, he got up and laughed in their faces, sending them running for the hills. However, that was about to be bumped down.

 Without breaking the eye contact, without breaking the cadence of his walk, Eddie Kaspbrak reached out to grab Richie Tozier, his crush, his damned high school through today crush, by the collar of his unbuttoned flannel, god it’s so soft, causing Richie to drop the microphone just as Eddie pulled him down to kiss him. Edward Kaspbrak was kissing Richard Tozier right now in the shitty karaoke bar in fucking Bangor, Maine. And it. Felt. So. Right. 

 It was like all was suddenly right in the world, the planets had aligned, and Santa Claus himself has just had delivered the best fucking gift to the both of them. Eddie felt Richie’s hands grab at his cheeks, then fly around his shoulders, trying to get closer, both of them numb to the fact that they we’re making out in front of their friends and a handful of strangers in a shitty dive bar! Who FUCKING knew?!?

 Eddie pulled away first, partly because of shock, partly because he wanted to open his damn eyes and look at this, commit it to memory. Everything around him became more clear. Bev and Stan screeching, the rest of the losers whistling, and a few of the random patrons subjected to this very odd-and-overtly-sexual non-verbal confession of love. Of love. Richie let the microphone fall to the floor, feedback scratching through the speakers. 

 “This isn’t the way I thought this would happen,” Eddie chuckled, letting Richie pull him into a hug, still in the center of the bar. “But it makes too much sense because it’s you.” He felt Richie press a kiss to his hair, then drop an arm to grab one of his hands. 

 “Let’s, uh, let’s get out of here, yeah?” Richie struggled to get out, his smile distracting Eddie from the fact that his hair was matted to his forehead via sweat. Eddie only nodded, leading Richie past the table of their friends (who had begun to chant “Get a room! Get a room! Get a room!”, earning a swift flick of the bird from both Richie and Eddie), out the door of the bar, giggles from both parties ringing out all the way to Richie’s car, then into Richie’s car, and finally as Richie drove away in his car. 

 The losers had gotten up one by one to follow them out, not even upset at the fact that they would have to cram into two cars now. Stan and Bev were out the door first, still wolf whistling as their (lovebird) friends drove off, Bill, Mike, and Ben at their heels. 

 “Wow, now that’s the m-miracle of lo-blargh,” everyone had turned just in time to see Bill barf up soggy French fries and an obscene amount of water. Calls of:

 “Jesus Christ,”

  “Eww, Bill,”

 “And that’s why we give you water, lightweight,” rang out in their circle, the friends taking a step back, Mike motioning for Bill to take a seat on the curb they stood on. 

 “I think that’s our cue to leave,” Bev stated.

“Ben, you wanna run in and pay the tab real quick? Take my card.” Ben nodded as Bev extended her hand with a card to him, disappearing back into the bar a final time. 

 “So, Marsh, where’s that twenty you bet me our Senior year?” Stan joked, helping Mike get Bill standing again, heading towards the cars. Bev laughed, throwing her head back. 

 “Where’s my twenty for saying Eddie was going to be the one to kiss him first?!” Bev shot back, reaching into her bag to pull out a crumpled twenty. Stan reached into his pocket, producing a folded crisp bill. They exchanged cash, laughing. 

 “This made no sense,” Bill offered coherently, stumbling closer to Mike. Stan and Bev turned to face him. 

“Why did Mike sing a Blondie song if he’s not blond?” It was Mike’s turn to throw his head back, letting out a hearty guffaw, before turning to Bill and responding. 

 “It’ll make sense someday,” Mike offered, wrapping his arm around Bill’s shoulder. Bill smiled, and shut up promptly. 

 They all sat around the parking lot for a while talking, sobering up. Bev had had a few cigarettes, sharing with Bill hoping to bring him back to earth. It was just as Mike and Bev got ready to drive off when Richie and Eddie pulled back into the parking lot, swinging between the two cars. Both were smiling messes, giggling and pink with a few new bruises on each of their necks. 

 “Just to put this out there, Eddie Kaspbrak fucks!” Richie yelled, peeling out from between his friends' cars, Eddie laughing and yelling “no! No! Shut up!” Between laughing fits, pulling back out onto the main road once more, riding off into the night. 

 “Let’s make that an extra twenty, Miss Marsh.” Stan smirked, waving at Bev shaking her head. Ben waved back as they pulled out of the lot. 

 “I should’ve thought this through more.” Bev laughed, reaching for Ben’s hand, and joining the other two cars on the road home. 

[alj4890]

And Then I Left You

(Thomas Hunt x OC*Amanda) in a what if series to And Then I Met You

@krsnlove @my-heart-beats-for-ya @aworldoffandoms @flyawayboo  @trappedinfanfiction @everythingmarvelsherlockspn @soph-withersx-deactivated202102 @kate-mckenzie​@i-bloody-love-drake-walker. @twinkleallnight​ 

Masterlist. 

 Chapter 2 Girls' Night Out

11 weeks after arriving in Hollywood...

"Something happened." Addison whispered.

Holly looked over her shoulder to make certain no one was near enough to overhear them. "What do you mean?"

"Look at them!" Addison hissed.

The pair she was gesturing to were sitting in director's chairs while debating different actresses that had auditioned for them.

"What do you mean?" Holly whispered.

"They're different." Addison insisted. "Something happened on that trip to Tahoe."

"Yeah." Holly muttered. "Nothing happened to make them get together."

"We have to do something." Addison decided. "She plans on leaving soon! We can't let them lose their spark without acknowledging it in the first place."

"Addy." Holly placed a hand on her friend's shoulder. "You know I have been one hundred percent behind you in this, but--"

"No!" Addison slapped her hand to Holly's mouth. "Don't you dare finish that sentence! Just keep backing me up. Got it?"

Holly sighed before nodding.

"Good." Addison dropped her hand. "Now follow my lead."

"If we are to go by appearance, then Jessica is the clear choice." Amanda explained. "I had Maxwell send some photos of Elizabeth's portraits so you could see what I am talking about."

Thomas leaned closer to her as he studied the images on her phone. "Their coloring is the same." He stroked his chin while glancing at the headshots of those that had been narrowed down as possibilities. "And I was impressed with with her Tender Nothings performance."

"I was too." Amanda wrinkled her nose at another actress's photo. "This one seemed unable to sound light hearted. Even her tears seemed more angry than sad."

He chuckled softly. "Then that's a definite no on Ms. Frasier. What about Lauren Benefield? What do you think of her for Elizabeth?"

Amanda hesitated. "She is the regency queen of cinema." She picked up the actress's headshot. "Something though was off for me when she read the lines."

"Can you be more specific?" Thomas lifted his gaze to Amanda's face.

She grimaced while trying to find the words. "Her innocence seemed forced."

He slowly nodded. "True. But she has chemistry with Ryan."

"Jessica does too." She countered.

He sat back in his chair. "It seems that only one has stood out to you."

"I'm sorry." Amanda quickly apologized. "Perhaps I shouldn't be part of the casting process. I--"

He took her hand in his and gently squeezed. "I'm glad you are taking such an interest." He smiled at the blush forming on her cheeks. "You having a definite opinion helps me in making a decision."

She lowered her eyes. "If you're sure I'm not making this harder, then I hope Jessica Clark is chosen."

"Then I will have Holly tell her agent." He released her hand while turning around. "Holly? Will you call Chazz and tell him that Jessica got the part."

"Will do." Holly was jerked back by Addison.

"Since it is Friday, I was wondering if we could borrow Amanda." Addison said.

Thomas narrowed his eyes slightly. "Borrow Amanda?"

"Yeah," Addison nudged Holly, "for a girls' night out. I figured she could use a fun night now that the screenplay is finished."

Holly winced at the elbow jarring her ribs again. "We need to do it before she leaves us."

"You're right!" Addison beamed at her partner in crime. "And we need to plan a party!"

"You don't have to do that." Amanda smiled at them. "It isn't as if I will never return. I still have a premiere to attend."

As Addison began to make suggestions for the going away party, Amanda's thoughts became a bit more depressed.

The party would mean she was leaving Thomas.

It didn't matter that he intended to go to Cordonia in six to eight weeks to film on location. She felt like as soon as she stepped on the plane that it would end any chance she might have to be with him.

Who knew how he would react or what he might think once he found out that she had to participate in such an archaic tradition?

Why couldn't I have been born a nobody?

She rubbed her aching head. If she had been born a nobody then she wouldn't have been inspired by her ancestor's story and thus not be sitting next to, in her opinion, the most attractive man she had ever met.

Either way, I wouldn't end up with him.

"Amanda?"

She sat up with a start. "Sorry. Did you say something?"

Addison repeated her invitation. "Please say you'll go. We really want to show you the fun side of Hollywood."

Thomas narrowed his eyes once more. "Are you insinuating that I haven't given her an enjoyable visit?"

"Yep."

Amanda couldn't help but laugh at his incredulous facial expression.

"Don't worry." She said to Thomas, patting his hand. "I've had a wonderful time with you."

His expression softened as he gazed upon her face. "Good. Perhaps tomorrow night we could go see a movie. Maybe dinner?"

Though she knew it was dangerous to go out on a date with him, she decided to accept. It was only her heart she was risking after all. The man could have anyone he wanted. He would never fall--

"I have the perfect outfit for you!" Addison broke into her torturous thoughts. "I'll bring it by when we pick you up!"

"Can't wait." Amanda replied.

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

That evening...

Thomas eyed the stairs as he sat in his living room. His curiosity had piqued when Addison mentioned an outfit.

He also was a little uneasy at the thought of Amanda going clubbing.

His frown firmed at the thought.

What if she meets someone and falls for him? She is already too lovely to be set loose in Hollywood's den of single--

He abruptly stood up when they came downstairs. His eyes widened at what Addison had done to the woman he was already highly attracted to.

She had turned her into a veritable sex symbol.

One that seemed to have stepped right out of my fantasies.

"Well?" Addison smiled at him. "Doesn't she look great?"

His eyes traveled the curves so blatantly displayed.

He audibly swallowed. He thought his surreptitious study of her figure the past few weeks had been thorough. Now he doubted all he had observed before.

Amanda nervously tucked one of her stray curls behind her ear that Addison swore needed to hang down from the messy bun she had fashioned.

"I know this isn't something like I normally wear." She looked down at her body in the royal blue dress that barely met her thighs. "But when in Rome..." She smiled shyly at them all. "Or rather Hollywood."

Addison beamed at her. "Exactly! This dress is a must for the places we are taking you." She cut her eyes to Thomas still stunned speechless. "What do you think, Professor?"

Holly nudged him when he remained silent.

He blinked. "That--it certainly--you..." He closed his eyes to get his jumbled thoughts in order.

"I think that proves how perfect this dress is." Addison pushed Amanda toward the front door. "Let's go ladies. We have much to do and too little time to do it in."

"What time should I expect you home?" Thomas grimaced at sounding like a parent.

"Late." Holly yelled over her shoulder.

Amanda waved goodbye to him before sliding into the limo Addison had rented.

Deciding she hadn't caused Thomas to truly think about what he might be missing out on, Addison hurried back toward the front door giving the excuse she left her phone upstairs.

Thomas stepped back inside with her.

"Found it!" She said while coming back down. "Sorry you can't come with us."

He grunted while shrugging his shoulders.

"But if I am to matchmake Amanda with one of the guys we meet tonight then I can't have you there being grumpy--"

"What?!" His eyes narrowed. "You're going to set Amanda up with someone after pushing me to be with her for the past three months?"

Addison sighed softly. "You clearly don't feel anything for her." She watched his expression darken in angry frustration. "I figured it was time to find her someone who does."

"I-- of course I feel-- can't--" he sputtered. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he gestured toward the front door. "You shouldn't keep them waiting."

Smiling brightly over flustering him, she wished him a good night. She peeked one last time at him as she shut the door.

Thomas had never looked so miserable.

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

Sayers Club...

"First stop of the night!" Addison smiled at the bouncer who winked at her as he held the door for her.

"She always brings the bouncers gifts." Holly explained. "Just about every hotspot in Hollywood has security guards adoring her."

"It was the only way to get my name out there once I graduated." Addison added. "Then I didn't feel right stopping it just because I finally received some recognition. It's been going on for years now."

Amanda commended her for her idea.

"Drinks first, I think." Holly announced.

"Something fruity." Addison yelled out over the music.

Amanda nodded. "Fruity sounds good."

Addison and Holly shared a conspiratorial glance before the latter gave their orders to a bartender.

The two had planned on the way to Thomas's home to use this evening to get the truth out of Amanda.

And what better way than to get her just a touch inebriated?

The three made their way through the crowd, pausing here and there to greet those they knew.

Amanda was introduced to many famous celebrities that she had yet to meet during her other ventures with Thomas.

"Let's sit here." Addison gestured to a curved booth directly in the middle of the action.

After a few more cocktails that the nosy pair were making certain had an extra shot of vodka for the duchess, Addison began the interrogation.

"Are you really leaving in a week or two?"

Amanda twirled her straw in her third empty glass. "Yes."

Holly motioned for refills. "So soon?"

"I have to." Amanda mumbled. "I really don't want to." She took the new glass and took a long sip. "But I must."

"Why?" Addison tilted her head. "What's making you leave?"

Amanda hiccupped. "I have stuff to do."

"With your duchy?" Holly prodded.

"No." Amanda hiccupped again.

"Stuff to do with that social season you told us about?" Addison asked.

"Yes." She surprised them by downing the rest of her drink. She shuddered while pressing the back of her hand to her lips. "I really don't want to."

"We'll miss you." Addison told her. She leaned forward to see Amanda's face. "Especially Thomas."

Amanda slumped back in her chair. She began to swirl the ice cubes in her glass with a straw. A bitter smile formed on her lips. "I'll miss all of you."

"Thomas wishes you could stay." Holly added. "He will be a nightmare to work with until we go to Cordonia."

"Why?" Amanda mumbled. "He has everything." Her brow furrowed. "The script. The actors. Costumes."

Addison passed her another cocktail. "He won't have you." She smiled at the surprise on Amanda's face. "You have done wonders for his typical moods, which were mostly grumpy."

The duchess's cheeks turned a bright red, either from shyness or alcohol.

"What do you really think of Thomas?" Holly asked. "Even though we have known him for years, we--"

"Addison. Holly." A handsome actor greeted before looking expectantly at Amanda. "How are we this evening?"

"We're great Vince." Holly rolled her eyes. "How about yourself?"

"Great." He held his hand out. "Vince Carter."

Amanda shook it. "'Manda Brighton." She slurred slightly. "Sorry. 'Manda Bridgerton."

He smiled and sat down at their table.

"She's the author Thomas has been working with." Addison reluctantly explained.

"And leaving town soon." Holly stressed.

"Really?" He leaned toward Amanda. "Any chance there is a character that I am made for?"

Amanda tilted her head while studying him. "Hmm." She shrugged and returned her attention to her drink. "Dunno."

His lips parted at her lack of interest.

"Don't let us keep you." Holly pushed him out of their booth.

"We'll see you around." Addison added, dismissing him with a brief wave.

"Anyway." Holly huffed. "What were talking about?"

"Thomas." Amanda set her elbow on the table and rested her cheek on her hand.

Addison winked at Holly. "That's right! We were wondering your thoughts on him."

"My thoughts?" A wistful smile formed on Amanda's lips. "Have a bunch of those."

"Really?" Holly eagerly leaned forward. "Like what?"

"Everything." Amanda mumbled after thanking the waiter for her refill. "He's temptation."

"He's what now?" Addison's brow furrowed.

"Temptation." She repeated before focusing on her drink. "He makes me want to forget my promises."

"Promises? Who have you promised stuff to?" Holly asked.

"Liam." Amanda blinked. "Doesn't matter. He doesn't feel the same."

"Liam doesn't feel the same about what?" Addison tried to make sense out of what was being revealed.

"Not Liam. Thomas."

"You made Thomas promises?" Holly attempt to clear it up only ended in frustration.

"Not Thomas. Promised Liam." Amanda insisted.

A song came on that caught her attention.

"Oh! Dance! Let's dance!"

"Wait. What does Liam have to do with Thomas?!" Addison yelled out as the bass dropped.

"Timing!" Amanda replied, sliding out of the booth. She disappeared in the crowd before Holly or Addison could stop her.

"What do you think she meant?" Holly yelled.

"I don't know!" Addison's eyes narrowed in concern. "But it certainly made her sad."

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

Many hours later...

Thomas tried to distract himself.

He made an outline for how he wanted filming to go.

And noticed that most of it would require having Amanda on hand.

He decided to watch a movie or two.

And missed having Amanda beside him, sharing bits of movie trivia.

He made dinner.

And found out that cooking for one had definitely lost the appeal it once had.

He took a shower to try and unwind.

And had to make it cold as he thought about her in that dress. Dancing. Smiling. Simply breathing.

He gave up on everything and watched the time go by.

It's ridiculous that I have allowed her to have such an effect on me. No one else can keep my attention, especially when they are not physically here. How will I be when she leaves for Cordonia?

He jumped to his feet when he heard the doorbell ring over and over again.

Opening the door, he found a swaying Amanda and a frustrated Addison.

"What happened?" He demanded.

"Thomas!" Amanda stumbled forward into his arms.

"Is she drunk?" He asked, completely baffled by her condition.

"The drinks were stronger than usual." Addison huffed. "I can't stay to explain. Holly is in the same shape."

Thomas looked over her head to see Holly hanging upside down out of the limo's window.

"Wooooohooooo!" Holly waved. "You're gonna fall in the sky."

Addison rolled her eyes as she stomped back to the car.

"Buh-bye!" Amanda called out.

Addison grunted as she lifted Holly back through the window. Once the limo door shut, the two friends burst into laughter.

"That was an award winning performance." Addison complimented.

"Thank you. If not for your brilliant idea for one of us to pretend to be drunk too so that Thomas couldn't make us help get Amanda to her bedroom, this performance would have never happened."

Addison giggled again. "Hopefully she will let something slip out in front of him about her feelings."

Holly poured them each a glass of champagne. "To drunken confessions."

They tapped glasses and relaxed.

Once the limo disappeared down the driveway, Amanda leaned back in Thomas's arms, nearly falling backwards and dragging him down with her.

"I danced." She proudly told him.

"Did you?" He tried to keep his irritation from showing. He doubted it was her fault for ending up like this. He knew his two friends a little too well. "Why don't you tell me all about it inside?"

"Kay." She slipped out of his arms and hit the wall.

Cursing softly, he held her arm to guide her into his house.

She fell on the couch, laughing as she kicked her feet up in the air, watching her shoes fly off.

Thomas ran his hands over his face. "Have you eaten?"

"Yes." She smiled at him. "I ate ice."

"I'm going to fix you something to help your condition." He grumbled. "Stay here."

"Kay."

Once he left the room she struggled to sit up.

"So hot in here." She tried to reach the zipper of her dress, causing herself to roll off the couch.

"Ouch." She mumbled.

She finally found the zipper and got it to go down after four tries. Standing up to let the dress fall off. She searched for something to fan herself.

Then her attention was caught by the pool outside.

Swaying as she walked she managed to open up the patio door and step outside.

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

Thomas returned to the living room and saw that Amanda had not only disappeared, she was somewhere in his house without clothing.

He heard a splash and dashed out the back door.

"Amanda!" He shouted, waiting for her to come up for air.

He quickly pulled his shirt off followed by his pajama pants, then jumped in after her.

She breached the surface right when he went under.

He grabbed her waist when his head appeared before her.

"AAAAHHHH!" She tried to push him away. "Water demon!"

He gave her a slight shake. "It's me."

She moved closer, then grinned. "It's you!"

"What are you doing in the pool?" He demanded.

"Got hot." She slurred, draping her arms around his neck.

"We need to--" he sucked in his breath when her body pressed against his.

Her skin was warm in the cool water.

And there was so much of it.

He briefly closed his eyes. "Did you...did you take off all your clothing."

"Nope." She mumbled, resting her head on his shoulder. "Panties were too hard to get off."

He softly groaned at what he now faced. "Amanda, we need to get you out and dressed."

"Kay." She nuzzled against his neck. "You smell good."

He stilled at her touch, feeling her lips brush his ear as she whispered.

"I danced a lot."

"Did you?" He swallowed. "I hope you enjoyed yourself."

"Wish you were there." She yawned, settling her head once more on his shoulder.

His arms tightened around her.

"I do too." Thomas whispered.

She tried to kiss his cheek, but missed and landed on the spot where his pulse leaped.

He knew he couldn't kiss her in the current state she was in. When they kissed, he wanted her completely coherent and fully participating.

Thomas tried to conjure every image of things that disgusted him as he got them out of the pool. Keeping his eyes averted, he helped her wrap a towel around herself.

She plopped down on a chaise lounge, sighing in contentment.

"Wait here," he commanded. "I'm going to find you some clothes." He wrapped a towel around his waist as he padded his way inside.

She looked around and spotted his t-shirt. Scrambling to her feet she let the towel fall off while pulling his shirt on. She lifted the soft material to her nose and breathed in the scent of his soap and aftershave.

Deciding she was ready for bed, she went inside and laid down on the couch.

Thomas didn't notice she was on the couch and panicked when he stepped back outside. After searching the pool and the rest of his backyard, he hurried back inside, praying she was somewhere in there.

In the midst of yelling her name, he saw her fast asleep in his shirt.

He didn’t bother to temper his groan at what she had put him through this night as he tried to pick her up.

Her eyes popped open and she looped her arms around him.

"Where are we going?" She asked.

He grunted and let her drop back to the couch. "To bed."

Her eyes widened. "Yours?"

"What?" Heat went up the back of his neck at the notion. "No. I'm placing you in your bed then going to mine."

The pout that formed on her lips drew his attention.

"Doesn't sound fun." Her fingers drifted through his damp hair.

"I agree but it is necessary." He focused on her eyes. "Help me get you upstairs."

With a nod, she let him pull her to her feet and half carry her toward the stairs.

"I'm tired." She sagged against him once they reached the top.

"We're almost there."

He nearly cheered when they crossed the threshold of her bedroom.

Jerking back the covers, he gently set her in bed.

She still held onto him, pulling him down with her.

"Much too tempting." She yawned.

"Amanda, I--" Thomas found himself trapped, with her resting her head on his chest and her arm curving around his waist. Her leg lifted and rested across his.

Unable to easily wake her, he gave up this unexpected battle and closed his eyes.

Planning not only an explanation for how she ended up in his shirt but also on leaving before she awakened so as not to cause any embarrassment for her, he decided to allow himself this moment of enjoying the pleasure of having her in his arms while he slept instead of simply dreaming about her.

[padfootagain]

Girl Crush (XIII)

Chapter 13: Would It Be A Sprout?

 Here we go with a new chapter!!! I hope you like it!!

Important chapter ahead. Like… hmm hmm…. Very important chapter, that I will let you discover by yourself but… yes, yes, important indeed. Poor Harry…

Tell me what you think about it!!

Word Count: 2749

Two months.

Harry hadn't seen you in two months, that was way too long.

If he had booked a flight for L.A. as soon as he had learnt that he would have a few days off between two shows, he still reckoned that in the future he would have to plan his trips to make sure he had more time to visit you.

Of course, the two of you had been on the phone almost every day. But it wasn't the same. It wasn't the same at all. Your voice was distorted by the waves transmitted through space, he felt the distance between the two of you in the way you laughed, and your face on the screen of his phone wasn't represented well enough for him to see all the details in your eyes.

Gareth wouldn't be around for the whole afternoon and evening, and Harry was rather happy to avoid sharing you for a while. Some of his friends had asked to organize a party, but he had pushed the occasion for 48 hours later. He wanted to spend the first day he was back to the city of Angels just catching up with you, and he would be dining with you and Gareth the next day.

And indeed, you did spend the whole afternoon together. You had taken the day off to go pick up Harry at the airport, and after dropping his luggage at his house, you enjoyed a lazy afternoon walking down the beach, talking about everything and nothing, eating too much ice-cream and laughing so hard your bellies ached.

You sat down in the sand to watch the sun set and disappear beyond the ocean, painting with red, gold and purple the heavens and the waters it sank in. Your toes were brushed by the waves, and you looked at a little crab running back and forth a few meters away with amusement painted all over your features.

And if he had missed you these past few months, Harry suddenly realized how much he had. He felt happier than he had in these seven weeks. Despite how much he loved performing, he reckoned that he wouldn't have traded this moment even for the rush of stepping on a stage and hearing a crowd sing his songs. If the second was exhilarating, exciting, this… this was soothing and calm. It felt almost like meditation, like connecting to the simple things that meant the most. When he turned to look at you again, he saw home in your features.

Funny that he felt that way. He had never really considered any place like a home since he had left his mother's house at 16. And yet, there was no other word to describe the warm feeling that grew in his chest as he stared at you. He felt like he was exactly where he belonged.

You felt his stare fixed upon you, and turned to him. He answered with a warm smile.

"What's going on in your funny head?" you asked, resting your chin on your knees.

"Nothing," he shrugged. "I'm just happy to see you. I've missed you."

The smile you offered him was worth a thousand suns, but it remained tender and delicate as one of these peonies you adored. The wind carried the salty scent of the ocean, yet he could smell your perfume over the salty fragrance of the waves: jasmine and summer skies, that was how he would describe it.

"I've missed you too, Harry. I'm glad you didn't forget about me."

You had spoken similar words before, but this time your tone was serious instead of teasing, so he frowned instead of laughing like he usually did.

"Forget about you, what do you mean?"

You shrugged, your gaze settling on the waves instead of his green eyes. It was easier to speak words you felt so deeply when watching a sunset than the two orbs you dreamt about from time to time.

"I don't know. You went away for so long, to live something pretty insane and amazing. And I'm just here, an ordinary florist…"

"Don't talk about it like that," he interrupted you with a bitter tone, and you were surprised to find a mixture of sadness and anger in his deep voice.

"I'm not blaming you or anything. And I'm not saying that I'm miserable either. I'm absolutely amazing."

He chuckled.

"You are. You are amazing."

"Doesn't mean that… you being away, sucked up in the craziness of it all… I was afraid you would stop thinking about your friend who lived thousands of miles away."

He shook his head, giving you one of his tender, lopsided smiles, and wrapped an arm around your shoulders to pull you close. And you hadn't realized before then, how much you had missed being in his arms.

"How could I ever forget my best friend, you silly? I missed you like hell. By the way, would you like to come to London for the holidays?"

Your eyes widened.

"What?"

"I'll be at my mum's for Christmas, but have to get back to London on the 26th. Thought you could come with me, as you didn't get the chance to walk around the town the last time you went there. My mum offered to let you stay for the New Year too, I'll go back to Holmes Chapel for New Year's Eve. You could come with me. A few others of my friends that you know will be there, so you won't feel alone, don't worry."

"I… I don't know…"

"You don't have to give me an answer now. Just think about it. And don't worry about money, I'll pay for the tickets, and you can stay at my place, so it won't cost you a penny. Or well, a cent here, I suppose."

"Are you sure about this?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"You're inviting me to stay at your mum's…"

"What about it? You're my best friend. Trust me, I talk about you all the time, she and Gemma know who you are already. Come on, say yes! It'll be fun! I'll be your guide in London!"

You had to admit that it was an excellent proposition, so you nodded, defeated.

"Okay, that sounds fun. I'll come."

"Wonderful! I'll get you tickets, you don't have to worry about a thing."

You rested your head against his shoulder, smiling.

You felt like you never had to worry about anything whenever he was around anyway…

"By the way, Harry…"

"Hmm?"

"You talk about me all the time?"

"Oh, shut up!"

It was late. Really late. Both of you should have been in bed, but none of you wanted to sleep. Harry was exhausted, but he didn't want to bid you goodnight just yet, and you were tired too, but you were too excited to have your best friend back to care too much about your stinging eyes.

Outside, the sky was cloudless and stained with a thousand stars, pale and distant lights lost in an infinite void. The moon was beginning a new cycle, its shape turned into a mere silvery line. But nor you nor Harry paid much attention to the beauty of the night sky.

In Harry's home, Notting Hill was playing, and Julia Roberts and Hugh Grant were breaking into a private garden in the centre of London. Both of you had changed into pyjamas, and you had stolen one of Harry's Treat People With Kindness oversized jumpers. Harry had settled for a pair of old shorts and an oversized green T-shirt. His hair had grown quite a lot since you had last seen him, and the dishevelled strands fell before his eyes. He had also clearly not shaven in a few days, and you were not complaining.

Two glasses of red wine, half empty, rested on the ground next to your feet, and the rests of some Chinese take-out were still scattered across the table. On the couch, Harry and you were facing each other, both of you sitting cross-legged on the comfortable cushions. Harry had just finished to paint your nails, and it was your time to decorate his.

You had chosen to match your nails with his, both of you sporting an alternance of pastel blue and lilac now. You were applying the final layer now, and you were quite proud of your work, barely any of the polish had wandered on his skin.

You had missed these evenings with him so much. The simple, quiet ones where all the two of you did was talk, enjoy each other's company, watch a film and do silly things like painting each other's nails or play boardgames in your pyjamas. You didn't reckon that there was anyone else with whom you would never grow tired of spending this kind of simple and yet intimate moments. Your memories brought you back to the first rainy afternoon you had spent together, the first time you had won against him at Scrabble, and he had never stopped raging about always losing ever since. The thought made you smile.

You were so lucky to have Harry in your life…

There was a slight frown on your features as you focused so intensely to not mess up your hard work. But he could read in your posture too that you were calm, absolutely relaxed. If there were things that stressed you out with your work, or your relationship with Gareth, your body language spoke loudly enough to leave no doubt that you weren't thinking about any of these issues. And as a result, you started to hum a random melody, without even noticing the gesture.

You always hummed when you were happy, without even noticing. An unconscious gesture that never failed to make him smile. He didn't recognize the tune, but then, he wasn't even sure it existed yet, maybe you were creating it now. Just the same way as you did while you were cooking together that day, and created one of his songs in the process. Would you create another tonight?

Through the low light of the room, the flashes from the TV screen painted shadows and shades across your features. Photons were caught in your hair and glimmered there, flickering fireflies shining brightly before fading.

You finished to paint his pinky finger, and let out a content sigh, before resuming your humming as you closed the bottle of polish. You wiggled a little, happy and proud of your work. Your smile radiated joy and kindness. And you were so… adorable? Beautiful? Perfect? It felt like all these adjectives weren't enough to describe how he felt for you in that moment.

His heart seemed to expand in his chest, in a way it had never changed before. It was as if… it was growing bigger and bigger, getting filled with something new that asked for nothing but to burst out and ignite the entire world. He had never felt this way, and yet, it didn't feel like Harry was completely foreign to it. It felt more like… something that had always been there, but never to this proportion, never to this intensity that blinded everything else the way it did now.

And the words that formed on the tip of his tongue and almost spontaneously tumbled past his lips showed him what the meaning behind this overwhelming feeling was.

I love you.

He did manage to bite his tongue before he could let out any sound though, but the urge to speak these words made his eyes grow round all the same.

What… what the hell was happening? What did that even mean?

Love? Well, obviously, you were his best friend, he did love you in a way, but not… not that way…

And he knew that as the words formed in his mind and heart, this time, they weren't intended to express a platonic love he would feel for a friend. They meant… something absolutely not platonic…

"All done! And may I say, I've nailed your nails! No pun intended."

He didn't even notice that you were talking. He seemed to have zoned out.

In reality, he was completely panicked.

What was going on? Why did he feel like that? Why did he want to say that?

"Harry? You're alright?"

You waved your hand right before his eyes in an attempt to bring him back to Earth, and he finally seemed to snap out of his trance.

"Huh? Sorry…"

"Are you alright? You don't like your nails?"

"What? My nails?"

He looked down at his hands and remembered what you had been doing.

"Oh, no, they're great. Well done!"

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Uhm… yeah. I'm just… Very tired all of a sudden, with the trip and all that."

You nodded, and he could read in your eyes that you believed his lie.

"You should get some rest. It's very late."

"I'll prepare the bed for you in the guest room…"

"No, go to bed. I know where everything is kept in this house anyway," you laughed, already turning off the TV. "Try to wait a few minutes for the polish though, or else you'll put some all over your pillow."

"Of course. Thanks again, it looks great."

You grinned, putting the nail polish away.

"I'll clean up, you get some rest," you ordered, before leaning closer to him. "Good night, Harry!"

You dropped a peck on his cheek. A gesture you had done many times before, and Harry shouldn't have reacted to it the way he did.

Why was his heart about to explode again? Why couldn't he breathe? What the hell was happening to him?

"Uhm… Good… Good night, Y/N," he stuttered, blushing hard from his neck to the tip of his ears, and he hurried to get up and head for his bedroom to hide his reaction.

He could still feel your lips against his skin, a ghostly sensation lingering on his cheek, like a little tickle… Your lips were so soft…

He locked the door behind him, resting his back against the wooden surface, out of breath, his eyes wide in panic.

What the hell was going on?!

He replayed the scene in his head, trying to understand what could have happened?

You were sitting on the couch next to him, painting his nails, and you looked so beautiful and…

His heart started to race again, and he rested his hand upon his chest, as if it would make the organ slow down, but all it did was make Harry feel through his ribcage just as fast his heart was pounding.

He let himself slide down the length of the door to the floor, and sat there for a while, resting his head against the cold wood behind him.

You were his best friend. Nothing more. What the hell was wrong with him?

The next thought that formed in his messy head was a question: what would it feel like to kiss you?

He was horrified at his own mind… how could he think like that of you?

You were his friend. You trusted him. And you were in a relationship with someone else. His brain had no rights forming this kind of thoughts.

And yet, when he let his mind wander off again, the same question appeared again, and this time, he felt the burning urge to stand up, open the door, cross the house back to the living room and find out.

He did none of that, of course. Instead, he kept on panicking, burying his face in his hands.

But he reckoned that he was simply being tired and stupid. You were his best friend. You were… his friend. Nothing more.

He was simply stressed out with all his shows, and tired, and jetlagged, and he had missed you so damn much, and he was so happy to see you again and spend some quality time with you.

Yes, it was only the mingling of all these circumstances that was messing with his head. A good night of sleep, and he would be back to his senses.

What if it wasn't though? What if… what if the feeling didn't stop in the morning? What if he really was in love with you?

He dragged himself off of the floor and crawled into bed, collapsing on his pillow and closing his eyes, hoping he would fall asleep soon.

He didn't sleep very well through the night though.

You were haunting his dreams.

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

Taglist :  @ponycake27 @horsesreign @xinyourdreamsx @jbluevelvet@notkeppeki @daynigt-dreamer-stuff @fudgeflyss @stuckupstucky@snek-shit @suchatinyinfinity@i-padfootblack-things  @buckybsarmy @heyohheyitsgabi@jigsawlover10 @emyyjemyy @addictedtofictionalcharacters @staringmoony@madamrogers​ @cronias13​ @stylesfics-xx​ @mellamolayla​

[a-collection-of-villainous-aus]

COFFEE SHOP AU PT4

SEGMENT TWO

Now let us visit the manor shall we, I should also point out the way the manor is positioned in this au is very Edward Scissor hands like, you know high atop a hill overlooking the town, just personally feels more fitting to me anyway like, Hat wants to stay away from most people but watches over them like the evil overlord he is, just my thought though shrugs.

Cruentus had ran, he didn’t stop until he was inside Hat Manor, back pressed to the door, was he breathless? Hyperventilating? At this point the hellhound could barely tell the difference, head in hands and sliding down the door, he damned God, he damned him because if this was some kind of trick to torment him…

Could even God be that cruel?

Knees now to this chest and arms around his waist he shivered, snow falling where it had collected on his coat, leaning his head back he couldn’t believe it, was his baby Lulu, his pup alive…no…no he was dead, had he become so absolutely sleep deprived he was imagining his son?

The oil lamps and their flickering lights made the lobbies deep red paper shimmer…akin to blood oozing from the walls…if it was appearing like that, there was a chance Black Hat was not in the best of moods himself…this house seemed to express his masters moods after all…no it was not oozing…the way it appeared to spill, meant he was bleeding emotionally.

It was selfish, but sometimes he wished he didn’t know how Hat felt, sometimes he wanted to just ignore him, Acylius had never blamed Hat for his impending death, but as a Father who lost his son…on bad days, really, really bad days, there was a part of him that did, even though he knew Acylius would have been miserable and unhappy without Black Hat.

It was his own selfish want to have his pup here and be his Father…but in all honesty, when it came down to it…when Acylius had told him to let him go, even though they knew what would happen when he left that day, no matter how much he wanted to stop him, reach out and beg him not to go…

Cruentus could not have denied that soft smile of his son who stood before him a soldier…no…a king who was willing to die, to turn the tide and save the Elderichts, change what the world had done to them as well as give the Legion demons their own freedom, to not always be eternally bound or the less fortunate ones who were sold off…after all not every Legion demon had been born rich and with privilege.

He remembered, his sons hands on his face, telling him it was alright and that he was ready to die, that he’d accepted it the moment he’d seen Hat standing there in the rain, that if the happiness he’d had with Amadeus came with this price, every single time he would be willing to pay it…what if this was Acylius…

Would fate be so cruel as to make his son pay it again just for being with Black Hat?

Or would Acylius even end up with Black Hat this time…he could try and play matchmaker, after all he had a friend or two who would treat Acylius as if he were as precious as the universe itself…

No these were desperate thoughts.

Cruentus knew that if Acylius wanted Black Hat.

There would never be anyone else for him…

Didn’t mean he couldn’t maybe try and put out something tempting on the table, after all Caspian was always a kind soul who wanted to look after Acylius and had held a candle for him even if he had never outright said anything, he’d never been blind to how the glass demon was practically always humming a happy tune at the prospect of seeing him.

He let his head fall back against the door, this was all too much, his world felt like it was spinning, it might not be him, reincarnated Acylius would mean there was an entirely different life bound to him, he would be Acylius but different in so many ways.

Was it the Acylius they’d known finally spat out of purgatory?

That fucking place had a habit of playing games with people and leaving gaping holes in their memories and placing bets on how long it took them to remember if they ever remembered at all.

Then the last question was it even Acylius? Hope could be a cruel thing after all.

The idea of going to bed was unbelievably tempting, go to sleep and pretend this was all a very real dream of his son, but he knew at this hour everyone else had already retired apart from a few scientists who were lost in their work coming up with the next dastardly thing to sell to villains.

Perking his ears up he stilled, eyes closing he listened, as suspected scientists were busy with their work but he was not searching for them, his hearing focused on Black Hats office, his room, his study but there was nothing there, no grumbling, pacing or turning of a page, not even a scrawling of his quill signing paperwork, just Acylius’s old grandfather clock that ticked in his office.

So if Amadeus was not in the manor…

He lay on his side and listened there, the mourning room Black Hat had made for Acylius ran along the complete under side of the manor, Amadeus, had made it into a museum with glass cabinets including little plaques.

As much as Hat seemed obsessive, he had earnestly tried to move on as Acylius had asked of him, he’d had short term relationships that just didn’t last, he’d found happiness in many ways, but nothing had ever lit that spark in the short demon as Acylius had, no matter how much Amadeus had tried, it was clear that his mourning might never end, much as a swan who mated for life and there would never be another to fill that space.

He would be lying to himself though if he denied ever visiting Hat’s shrine to his son, he was the only other person who had access to it and that was just because he was Acylius’s Father.

Ah yes there he was, that heavy forlorn sigh, slightly ragged and in pain, if the bleeding walls were not a clear sign alone that it was a low day for his friend then that would have said enough.

Cruentus would have shadow travelled to him but Black Hat had enchanted the place to stop fools from trying to break in.

Making his way to the entrance, he went down the spiral staircase with black iron bars decorated with gold leaf decorations as vines twisted around them, his palm open as a fireball lit the way, down at the bottom a blue walk way carpet in a hue only Legion demons could see, so of course it would just so happen to be Acylius’s favourite colour, he’d wondered what it looked like on many occasions as to both he and Hat it appeared only gray.

Of course his son had tried to describe it as being close to the sea only more divine.

Grand oak doors greeted him at the end, opened slightly still, he closed his hand, snuffing out the fire and made his way in quietly, his heart was racing, how was he going to tell Amadeus about the man he’d met, the possibility Acylius was back, well first he had to find him in this place it wasn’t exactly small after all.

Black Hat was currently sitting on the bed he’d shared with Acylius, fingers brushing over the covers, recalling how once upon a time it had been infuriating how much Flug moved in his sleep until he reached a day where sleeping without some part of the blasted tree draped over him was nigh on impossible.

Of course he’d slept since Acylius’s death, but it’d never been peaceful, sometimes he only rested because he could imagine that disapproving look…which if he’d been alive he’d have also been picked up and carried to bed whether he wanted to or not, in the end he’d always been thankful that the tree had because he just knew, he just always seemed to know when he was exhausted or needed to just rest.

Flopping back he sank against the pillows, a faint scent of his doctor still lingered on the linen, staring up at the four poster canopy he wondered if the Flug he’d met was simply a doppelganger, sometimes these things happened, a creature taking a face when no longer in use and sometimes those memories attached to it would bleed into their memories.

He closed his eyes, hands to his chest, sighing solemnly, wouldn’t it be wonderful just to have him here for one more night, to say good bye in a way that would be soft and tender…his dear tree had entered this world in pain and left it in the same manner.

When Amadeus opened his eyes again he found Cruentus staring down at him he let out a more than undignified scream hand to his chest only to then slap Cruentus’s face, the Hellhound of course had no reaction, after all it was a more you bastard for making me jump but I’m not actually angry at you but how dare.

“Sir if it is time for you to rest I can fetch you a hot coco or single malt, all depends on what you wish for, tonight.”

Hat recomposed himself and sat up; damn it, only his tree and the damn hellhound could sneak up on him like that.

“Sir, you and I both know your heart is not in your chest.”

Cruentus smiled, biting back a laugh.

As Amadeus watched the hellhound’s ears express just how funny he’d found making him jump was, he could not be mad, no it only added to the sad longing of just wanting to be beside that idiot who was down at that wonderful little café Amongst The Stars.

Of course Acylius had learned to express with his ears from watching his hellhound father, he even wondered sometimes if he’d picked up on it to himself and even how to control and hide his emotions with them, but what he missed most was seeing them wiggle every time Flug was happy, it had taken Black Hat so long to realise they always moved like that when he entered the room…

Did Acylius ever know just how much his heart fluttered at the sight of him?

He could not recall if Flug’s ears had moved like that when he saw him today or yesterday, he’d been too lost in just seeing him, trying to grip onto reality, it was a phenomenon to just see Acylius walking and breathing, being alive.

It left him in a wonderful dreamy daze, he could barely take his eye off him, Amadeus so desperately wanted the barista to turn around and smile at him like he used to…that was probably a heartbroken and desperate wish…but still if it took wishing on every star for a moment he would ask each and every one of them until it came true.

He like Cruentus knew there was the very real possibility of another life attached to this man; still the question they both wondered was he reborn or spat out of purgatory?

Could this Acylius even be a man he could love or love him?

What if Acylius felt nothing for him…no he would not despair, one could not know the answer to something if they did not at least ask or try to find out.

Hat blinked as snapping fingers brought him from his thoughts

“Hey now, what’s on your mind, Gremlin?”

Cru asked softly only for his hear to lay back as the anime dark blue cloud of oh dear I done bad hovered over him as he was on the receiving end of one of Hat’s famous dark looks, of course only Acylius was allowed to call him Gremlin.

He tilted his head though when Amadeus didn’t do anything and watched him flop back onto the old bed, yelping as he was pulled onto it with a black tentacle wrapped around his waist and plopped onto the other side, the tentacle immediately disappearing afterwards. (The side where Hat used to sleep as Amadeus was currently taking up the side where Lulu slept.)

“Acylius is on my mind, what else…I have something very important to tell you Cruentus.”

Oh so Black Hat did know about the coffee shop?

“What is it sir?”

“I think…I am not sure, but Acylius might be alive, reborn, back from purgatory or pulled from wherever Legion demons go when they die, but I also want to call him a doppelganger. As much as I want it to be him…we cannot trust it at the same time…though his scars…can someone match them that perfectly?”

Cruentus lay there listening to him, staring up at the canopy; it was embroidered with silver stars that glowed in the dark, no matter Flugs age, his boy had always loved lights and things that’d glowed, heh he remembered hearing him asking Amadeus to open his mouth one night, how in awe he’d been of his glowing fangs…that was his pup alright.

“I saw him my way home, he was putting out the rubbish…I’m numb and yet feel everything at once, still my thoughts and feelings have come to stand still as I process it all, I can’t tell if we’re just finally losing it and starting to just want him back we’re imagining him there.”

The Hellhound didn’t face Amadeus; he thought he might just break down right then and there, how could he tell him, Acylius had remembered something from his childhood at this moment when it was clear he’d not said a thing about Black Hat.

No he would tell him tomorrow…but would that be a good idea, should he mention it…would Black Hat understand if he told him he’d been afraid to as the last time had been the final step into Acylius dying…yes, he would probably understand.

He would never tell him though and Acylius would never forgive him for making Hat feel that guilt when it was never his fault, when Acylius wanted to do something he did it, every step had always been his decision.

He would lie, a white lie, a simple one of he just wanted to make sure.

Closing his eyes and settling against the pillows Cruentus shared a moment’s silent until he felt Black Hat move beside him, he cracked open an eye and watched him turning on his side to face him.

“I understand completely, but we need to find out, carefully though mind you, if we rush his memory back it could genuinely do more harm than good…but I am willing to wait even if it only leads to heartache for us, we will regret it so much more if we don’t even try to be there and he remembers us.”

Cruentus only nodded to show he was listening, after all that was a good point.

Black Hat propped his head up with a hand, looking up at the star canopy in thought, a small hopeful smile creeping across his features

“If this Acylius and I are compatible, then I will gladly work on wooing him, learning all about him and his new life and new him, because no matter what he will always be my husband.”

(Send me messages if you want me to ever write their secret wedding, you can do it on anon btw <3)

“Is that not perhaps sir, a little obsessive and possessive?”

Cruentus returned, turning his head to face him only for Hat to look down at the still laying flat Hellhound with a brow raised

“So you are fine with the idea of him calling someone else Father…yes I know if it makes him happy and he is happy you would let him while your heart silently breaks, but I am not good like you…or even like he was , but Acylius always knew that.”

Cruentus’s brow furrowed, tears stinging his eyes, the idea of someone else being called Father or Papa…the notion was agonizing, but Hat was right , if Acylius was happy he’d let him go…no matter how much it hurt.

“You won’t make him be with you though, if he comes to realise he does not love you in this life?”

That was when Amadeus’s whole demeanour changed, sitting up his form turned completely to shadows covered in eyes and open maws, all moving, gnashing teeth and slit pupils focused on him, the one set in his skull was bloodshot and vibrating as Black Hat barely held his temper

“I trust you know me better Cruentus than to assume…I would ever do anything like that rat Vincent.”

The Hellhound was not afraid, but he himself knew it had been a cruel comment to make, looking up at him with bright yellow eyes he stayed still as the darkness of the room pressed in tightly around his body.

“I am sorry Amadeus, that was a truly uncalled for comment, I know you would never force Acylius to do anything he did not want, forgive a hurting Father who wants only what’s best for his son, but punish me if you see fit…”

He place a hand on Amadeus’s arm where fangs were but the maw did not open or try to bite him

“I know how much it hurt you what Vincent did that day, how much you still blame yourself no matter what Acylius said , you could never accept the fact that it wasn’t your fault it was Vincent’s…how he took advantage of the situation.”

A tentacle covered in razor sharp spikes whipped through the air as Black Hat let out an inhuman screech, only stopping a breath away from Cruentus’s face.

“I could never hurt you…Acylius would never forgive me if I did so.”

The shadows coiled back in, washing away as he returned to his old small form, after all he’d never grown the height the world saw him as was all for show, he really was still that four ft five Gremlin Acylius had loved so much, he was just too tired and emotionally drained to keep up that façade right now.

“Not even if I deserved it?”

Cruentus asked softly, oh Amadeus really was suffering; it was not often when he resorted back to his root form to rest.

Looking down and pulling his knees up to his chest his face hidden by the brim of his top hat and answered him quietly

“No, not even then, now go make my tea.”

He used a tendril to push Cruentus off the bed; a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as the hellhound fell unceremoniously onto the floor and heard the somewhat pained groan of

“Yes sir.”

End of segment two of three

Segment one

[notyetneedcoffee]

Overheard

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warning: NSFW, 18+ Smut, and a bit of fluff

o o o o o 

A high pitched, muffled scream pulled Steve Rogers out of a dead sleep. He sat up, instantly alert.  His reflexes had him up and out of his room before he heard peals of feminine laughter. Stopping, his brain caught up to his instincts. Girls night. Natasha, Wanda, Maria and Y/N mentioned going out for a girls night out. Not wanting to look the fool for rushing out in nothing but his boxer shorts, Steve paused to gather his wits.  

“No, Y/N. I’m just saying that Mr. Tall and Yummy would have shown you a hell of night.” Nat voice reached Steve’s ears. Even though her tone was even, her knew her well enough to know she was pretty drunk.

“He was yummy.” Maria piped in, practically purring. “And, damn the way he was grinding up on you on the dance floor. Boy had moves. Not too late, y’should call him.”

Steve knew he should go back to bed. He did not approve of eaves dropping, but the mental image of you on the dance floor rubbing up against “yummy” stirred something bitter and ugly in his gut. He’d seen the way people today danced in the clubs. He didn’t want anyone touching you that way.

‘Damn it, you idiot.’ He mentally chided himself. His feelings for you had changed. He tried to keep them in check, attempted to remain just teammates and friends. Apparently, he was failing miserably.

“Call him.” Wanda agreed with Maria. “He wanted you bad, and his thoughts were...” She giggled drunkenly, “so inventive.”

Steve ground his teeth together, waiting to hear what you’d say.

“If I could judge by the way he danced, you would probably be right.” You snickered.

“Bet the boy was packin’ too.” Maria chimed in.

“Yeah, well.” You giggled wickedly. “I’m pretty sure that wasn’t a flashlight in pocket.”

“Dammit, woman.” Nat pushed you over and you laughed. “Call him. When was the last time you got laid?”

Steve started to stalk away, but ended up back in the dark hall, listening.

“Hey!” You huffed indignantly.

“That long?” Nat threw back. “Go. Get. Fucked.”

“You should.” Maria agreed.

“I would.” Wanda agreed.

Steve turned his face into the wall, fist itching to punch something.  

“Look, I’ve even pulled the number up for you.” Nat said. “Just hit call.”

God, his stomach dropped. You had “yummy’s” number in your phone. He heard you sigh and couldn’t take it anymore. Steve retreated back to his room. Hearing your side of a booty call was not something he needed to experience.  

There was no way he’d be going back to sleep at this point. He sunk into his favorite chair and stared at the lights of the city beyond. Did he do it again? Did he wait too long? The thought of you leaving to go hook up with some guy left his stomach in knots. He kept hearing Nat’s voice. “Go. Get. Fucked.”

Steve thought about all the times he could have changed things, could have asked you out or told you how he felt. All the moments he could have kissed you. He played the scenarios in his head again and again. There had been so many lost opportunities.  

He had no idea how long he sat there. An hour. Two. His hands were locked into fists and head ached from the clenching of his jaw. His mind spun in useless circles, tormenting him and would have done so until morning. Except, a light knock pulled him from his lamenting.  

Without thinking he rose to his feet and opened his door. You stood there. He suddenly found it hard to breath. You didn’t go.  

Everything you’d planned to say flew out of your brain the minute Steve opened the door. A moment ago, you absolutely had to talk to him right at that moment. You couldn’t wait until tomorrow. Now, every word flew out of your mind. Your eyes were locked on Steve’s heaving bare chest.  

“Y/N?”

“I, uh, I’m sorry to wake you.” You stammered.

“You didn’t.”

“Oh, okay.” God, you wanted to touch.

Silence stretched out as you stared at each other. Finally, Steve said your name with such tenderness your drunk body practically swooned into him. “Why are you here, doll?”

You took a deep breath. Do this. You needed to do this. Placing both hands on his chest you pushed him into his room and kicked the door closed. Oh, his skin was so warm. Focus!  

“Steve. I have to tell you something.” You ran your palms over his strong pecks.  

You didn’t notice Steve bite his lip. He physically removed your hands from his body. “You’re drunk.”

“A little. Yeah.” You final looked up into his blue eyes. He looked sad. “But I’m not so bad that I don’t know what I’m saying. Something happened tonight. I went out with the girls and we were having a great time. This guy, this really hot guy, wanted to take me home with him.”

A deep frown crossed his face. “You don’t have to explain anything to me.”

“Shush. I didn’t go. Then the girls were giving me a bad time, telling me to call. Just go have fun. Get laid.”

“Y/N.”

“Steve, shush.” You put a finger to his lips. God, they were soft. “I could have. Easily. It would have been a sure thing. A great time and no strings. But I couldn’t do it. I didn’t WANT to do it.”

His large hand came up, covering yours, and gentle removed your finger tip. Painfully aware of your closeness, and his own near nakedness. “Why?”

Your eyes fell on your hand held in his. Being so close, and him so bare, you just wanted to rub against him. The world seemed to tilt. His scent was intoxicating. Maybe it was the whiskey. You leaned into him, face brushing his chest. “You. I didn’t want him. I want you.”

Steve’s eyes closed, his body going very stiff. After a moment, he took you by the shoulders and pushed you back to arm’s length. Before you could even question, his large palm stroked your face. “I want you, too.”  

“Really?” You stumbled just a little. Maybe that double shot right before knocking on Steve’s door wasn’t the best idea.

“Yeah, Doll, really. Let’s set you down, okay?” He moved you around to the sofa. You dropped into the seat with little grace. “I’m going to go put something on. I’ll be right back.”

You watched his adorable tight ass in the light blue boxers as he walked away. “But why?” You whined.

Next to your head, slung over the back of the sofa, was one of Steve’s sweat shirts. You pulled it closer. It smelled like him, woody and spice and just him. The room tilted a bit, so you rested your head back and buried your face in his shirt.  

Light seared through your eye lids, pulling you from slumber. You head ached, but your body was wrapped in a heavy cocoon of warmth. Really heavy. You became more aware. The night before, at least some of it, came rushing back. You remembered Steve’s glorious body, all that skin. You inhaled. Holy shit. The momentary panic subsided somewhat with the realization that you were in a tee shirt and panties.

His body, spooned around you, pulled tighter with a little groan. “It’s early. Go back to sleep.”

“Steve?”

“Yeah.” His voice was rough with sleep.  

“Do I need to apologize for anything?” The last thing you really remembered was telling him you wanted him.  

He remained quiet for a long time. You wondered if there was something really bad, or if he was pondering teasing you. Then again, maybe he fell back asleep. Steve eventually lifted his arm and brushed your hair away from your neck. He placed warm kisses on your skin.  

“There’s nothing. So long as you meant it and let me take you out, and date you proper.”  

You didn’t remember him asking, but you weren’t about to say no. “How could I turn that down?” You snuggled into him. It felt so good. “Steve?”

“Hm?”  

“How did I end up in your shirt?”

You felt him chuckle. “You don’t remember?”

“No.”

Steve squeezed you tight again still quietly chuckling against you. “I think I may keep that little story to myself. Now go back to sleep.”

“I should go back to my room.” You sighed.

“Not a chance.”

“If I come out of your room once everyone is up...”

“They’ll talk.” He mumbled, lips ghosting across the skin of your neck. “Let them. Especially after last night.  They should know you already have a Mr. Tall and Yummy – and one in it for the real thing, not a just a roll in the sack.”  

You sighed in contentment, relaxing into his warmth. “Wait a minute.” You suddenly tried to look over your shoulder. “How do you know about that?”

He tried to hold your back to his chest. Steve nudged his leg between your thighs and pulled you close again. “No talk. Sleep.”

“Steve.” You reached your hand back and ran it through his hair. “Tell me.”

“Sleep.” His hand drift over your side and slid along the curve of your ass.

“Steve.”

“Then don’t sleep.” His hand curved your face towards his. His lips captured yours in a slow, wet kiss. 

Nearly all thought left your brain. Damn, he felt good. One leg hitched back over his hip. His thigh rubbed against yours. His hand drifted below the tee shirt and up the smooth skin of your stomach.  

You smiled against his kiss. You still couldn’t let it go. “Tell me.”

He captured your lower lip lightly in his teeth. “I heard.”

“What?”

“I heard the girls tease you.” Steve hid his eyes from you, pushing his head into your shoulder. “I thought I was too late. The thought of you with someone else, ugh, it made me...”

You stroked his soft hair, as he wrapped himself around you. He nipped at your ear. His hip bucked into your ass, making it very evident how awake he was. With his large hand upon your breast, teeth and tongue along your throat, body pushing you into the mattress, you becoming completely lost to him. A moan escaped your throat.  

“God, I want you.” Steve’s mouth trailed down your neck. His fingers teased at the waist of your panties. “Want to taste you, to fuck you.”  

His mouth and words sent a shiver down your body. You whined.

“Need to hear it, Baby.” Steve’s nose trailed along the skin of your neck.

“Yes, I want you too.” Your fingers ran through his hair as he exhaled a moan. His fingers slid beneath the flimsy fabric of your panties, finding the wet folds of your pussy. His hand explored as his hips pressed into you. You moaned as his slick fingers danced over your clit.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” He breathed against you. You pushed your panties off your hips, shimmied them off, and hitched a leg over Steve’s. His fingers curled into you, making you keen. He brought them to his mouth and licked your juices from his fingers. “So good.”

He shifted. You felt his length slip between your legs, slide along your wetness. Spooned behind you, large hand pressed to your core, hot breath washing over your neck, you needed him inside you. “Fuck me,” you breathed, “please.”  

“Oh, shit.” Steve moaned as he slid into you, stretching and filling you. His cock hit just the right spot, pushing little mewls from your throat with every thrust. Your cunt, soaking and sensitive, clenched around him. His hips snapped, hand holding you in place. “Feels. So. Fucking. Good.”

"Steve.” You began to shuttered. His mouth locked on your neck, finding that spot at the junction of your neck and shoulder that sent shivers all the way to your cunt. He bit down and pounded into you. “Oh fuck!”

He wrapped himself around you, holding you as you came apart. Steve’s grip tightened. A growl rumbled up from his chest. His cock pounded into you, thrusts deep, pressing, as his release hit him. “Fuck, yes.”

Steve’s arms relaxed enough for you to roll over in his arms. Kissing him slowly, you stretched out against him. He smiled against your lips, pulling at the tee shirt and you still wore and tossing it to the floor. Your panties and his boxers forgotten somewhere at the bottom of the bed, you curled back up fully naked.  

“I really only intended to hold you.” Steve smiled against your kiss.  

“You are holding me.” You snuggled into his embrace.

“Good point.” He kissed your temple. “And it’s still early, so back to sleep.”

“Oh yeah.” You giggled. “Sleep, and then everyone gets to see me leave your room.”

“Yes.” He smiled sleepily. “Looking happy and thoroughly ravaged.”

“At least I won’t be the only one.”

TAGS:

@the-omni-princess / @theneuropsychwriter / @buckybarneshairpullingkink @lbouvet / @geeksareunique / @beautifullungs / @sammghgecko @josie605 / @florenceivy / @jennmurawski13 / @minillamakeup-blog @gifsbysimplysonia /  

If you would like to be added to my tags, removed, or have a story request, please message me!

[mini-moongi]

missing you. || yoongi

Genre: Angst, unrequited love?, fluff ending

Warnings: Toxic behavior, abuse, uh oh bad relationship man. Please, if you are going through these kinds of things, seek out help, and talk to someone you trust about it!!

Summary: Your latest relationship is... well... not that great. When Yoongi tries to convince you to leave, it doesn’t end well. He’s forced onto the back burner of your life, and without him, it spirals out of control.

[requested!]

[Hi!! Can I request a yoongi x reader that starts off sort of angsty with reader in love with someone else in a not so healthy relationship - but then she gets out and realizes that yoongi has been there the whole time??? Like I wanna cry cause it’s sad then I wanna cry cause it’s happy lol]

a/n: heck yeah this was requested; thank you!!! To be honest, a good Yoongi fic from me is well overdue-- sorry yoongi! I still love you!

────── ☽. ✧₊∘ ──────

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Yoongi’s voice is stern and laced with more concern than you had hoped. A simple brunch get-together, that was all you wanted. You didn’t mean for this to happen, but you’re sitting here letting Yoongi hold your arm out for everyone to see. Blues, purples, and blacks dance along your forearm; a twisted display of affection.

You try to remove yourself from his grasp, but his hold on you is firm. His soft brown eyes searches yours for answers you didn’t want to say out loud. The long sleeve sweater you were wearing rode up on your arm when you reached for his drink, and now he wouldn’t let it go. “It’s fine, Yoongi.”

You smile, but he knows you aren’t fine. Years of friendship and trust told him that much. Michael loves you, these.... these bruises? They were your fault; you were out of line. 

“Y/n,” Yoongi swallows the lump forming in his throat. You didn’t need to respond back-- he already knew the answer. God, how could anyone do this to you? “This isn’t okay. What he’s doing isn’t okay.” 

His bangs fall in front of his face as he leans his head down, lost in pensive thought. Yoongi’s large hands rub soothing circles into your skin, a rhythm you almost get lost in, but you’re careful not to give in too much; Michael wouldn’t like it if you did. 

“If it was ever really bad,” your voice wavers for a moment. “...I would tell you. I really would, Yoongi, promise.” You hope another weak smile will seal the deal, but he doesn’t drop it. Classic Yoongi, you think to yourself. 

“You’re too tough on yourself, you know that?” A dry laugh escapes him, and you wonder if this conversation will ever end. “Y/n, I’m telling you, this Michael guy is bad business. Please, you have to get out while you still can. If you can’t do it for you, do it for me.” He insists a little softer now; the melancholy tension hurts so gently.

You almost say yes, you almost make it out that day, but the man of the hour walks into the cafe. Your time’s up. Quickly you leave Yoongi’s warmth, a feeling you miss already. Even after he’s stopped holding you, his touch still lingers on your skin. Michael’s smile drops, and a glare is shot at your best friend. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” His voice is low and threatening as he nears you two.

“No! No, of course not,” you jut in,”I was just about to leave. Bye, Yoongi.” You gather your things as quickly as possible; you don’t want to keep your boyfriend waiting. Before you can leave, Yoongi gently grabs your wrist. 

It hurts a little inside when you ignore his pleading gaze, and it hurts even more when he lets go.

For a while, Michael doesn’t let you see Yoongi again. Your best friend dwindles away like all of the others in your life, something you wish would never happen. You’ve been working really hard to make Michael happy, and it finally pays off. When you finally meet up with Yoongi, he thrusts you into conversation as soon as your boyfriend was out of earshot.

“Y/n, are you okay?” Yoongi envelopes you in a comforting embrace-- one you associate with home and freshly brewed coffee. You’re stood stiff in his hold, too scared to reciprocate. “You don’t text back, you don’t call, I don’t even see you for how long? A week? A year?”

“...It’s only been a month.” You state simply. 

“Okay first of all,” Yoongi huffs,” Longest month of my fucking life.”

You snort in surprise, and laughter finds its way out of you. You nod your head in agreement, it has been too long, you realize. 

“Second, you’ve got to break up with him--” His hands rests on both of your shoulders. “--I’m sorry, I had to say it again.”

“Yoongi, we’ve been over this.” You frown, disappointed that you’ve come to this. “Michael loves me. We’re cool.”

“This,” he gestures to the sunglasses you’re wearing. Even a pair of shades and concealer couldn’t hide the black eye you’ve developed since he last saw you. “...This isn’t cool. Not even in the slightest. He’s using you, y/n, if this is his idea of love, it isn’t it. Y/n, I--”

“--I can handle myself you know,” You brush his hands away; you’d rather be left in the cold than bask in Yoongi’s touch and be reminded of what you don’t deserve. “I don’t need you to tell me this every time we see each other.”

“I’m just trying to help you--”

“I know. And it hurts, Yoongi,” you point to your chest, where your heart is already breaking into pieces. Tears threaten to fall from your eyes, but evidently they’re too dry at the moment. You’ve done enough crying at home. “Just... Just leave. I’m done trying to explain myself to you.”

The pain that courses through you is unbearable as you watch Yoongi’s own heart fall apart in front you. His grip on you loosens, and he refuses to make eye contact with you. You can’t take back what you’ve said, no matter how much you want to, and you watch him slip away from your grasp. 

He’s cold, bitter. He won’t let you know how much it physically pains him to see you like this. Yoongi loves you; it’s a well kept secret meant for late night drives and movie night. His emotions are riding so high right now that one wrong step can ruin everything you two built over the last few years. So Yoongi does the only thing he can think of in that moment. He lets detaches himself from you, he walks away.

He’ll always be there, silently hoping that you make it out. Hoping that you’ll realize that you deserve better. Yoongi wants to be the one to make it better, but for now, he’ll have to settle for loving you from a distance.

You don’t know how long it’s been since you’ve last seen Yoongi. 

That’s a lie, it’s been exactly a month and six days. His laughter and smile has become a distant memory, and you can’t seem to remember the last time you two had movie night. The faint smell of caffeine and cologne ghosts by; you instinctively breathe it in. 

Michael nudges your side. “What’s the matter with you?”

“..Nothing!” you blurt out. The last thing you need is for him to start another fire.

He raises an eyebrow. “You’re a terrible liar, y/n. I bet it’s the guy you’re cheating on me with.” He grumbles. The tv you two were watching fades to background noise. If you don’t say anything, you’ll feed the lie, but if you speak up, you’re covering the lie.

“I’m not cheating on you.”

“His name is Yoongi, right?” He completely ignores your protests and stands up off of the couch. “What does it take to get you to stop being such a whore for once?” He’s stormed off, dismissive of the way you start crying.

No, this isn’t okay. This isn’t right. “Yoongi has nothing to do with this.” you’re begging at this point, trying to reach out to Michael. “Whatever you think this is, it’s all my fault.” 

All Michael can see is red-- hot, boiling anger runs through his veins. “Of course it’s your fault, it always is.” The metal on his belt glints in the light, flashing your reflection.

That’s all it took. A split second for you to see what you really looked like; Black eyes, bruises, bumps, cuts, they were everywhere. You’re living a miserable life with Michael, you realize. Maybe at one point he loved you, but not anymore.

As your pain and ignorance raises the belt higher, you start to recall Yoongi’s comforting, tender smile, like you’re living it all over again. The vivid details of him envelop you in a blanket of peace and serenity. These could be your last moments, and Yoongi’s on the front page.

You missed him; you missed Min Yoongi.

In a blink of an eye, you make a break for it. It’s last thing Michael expects, so you’re able to get a head start. You’re dialing for the police, tears streaming down your face with Yoongi being the only thing you can think of. 

You make it out this time. Even as your lungs burn with each breath, you keep going. You run as far as your body can take you and finally, you can breathe again.

You’re a broken husk of a person sitting in the police station. They’ve given you a blanket, but it does little to help. The kind officer has called your emergency contact, your best friend. You love Min Yoongi, but at this point, he’s not your best friend anymore; he can’t be. He’s always been the shoulder you leaned on, and arms you cried in. As each minute goes by, you let yourself admit that maybe, just maybe, you liked him a little bit more.

The rain starts to pick up outside, and you peer into the night sky. The wind howls, and the soothing rain eases your suffering, if only for a little while. It’s so dark tonight, and you doubt he’ll show in this weather. Not after what you’ve said to him. Thunder cackles in the sky, and the spark of light that follows after flashes a black silhouette. 

It comes closer and closer, and before you know it, he bursts through the door. He glistens with the rain and sweat that rolls down the sides of his face. He smiles, and a breathy laugh parts from his lips. 

“I’m so glad you’re okay.” His shoulders relax, and Yoongi looks at you like you have the whole world in your eyes.

Tears already start welling in your eyes; they missed that smile too much, it seems. The drenched black coat is quickly shucked off, revealing a dryer, white shirt underneath. His embrace is warm, the lovely scent of coffee and cologne filling your senses. 

You hold him close. Your grip on him is tighter, more desperate. You craved his touch an embarrassing amount, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He just holds you closer, breathing in the fact that you two are together again. Peace, warmth, love; this is what it’s supposed to feel like. You might not date for a while, but you’re sure he’ll show you the ropes when you’re ready.

When he lets go, it’s cold again. But this time, you aren’t afraid. “Let’s go home.” Yoongi’s voice is choked up from the emotional rollercoaster, but he says it so effortlessly. You nod; You’re always home if it’s with Min Yoongi. 

────── ☽. ✧₊∘ ──────

A/n: wow this one just came out of me,,, I feel like I need a sugary snack to combat how sad this fic made me?? Anyhoo--- my requests are always open!! (just fyi lol) but yes, thank you so much for requesting!