#from felicity's desk ⋆˚✿˖°

[satorusfelicity]

recollections ⋆｡𖦹°‧★

gojo x fem!reader

word count: 788

a/n: decided to practice my writing (bc I honestly suck at it) by writing fanfics!

“Can’t you stay a little longer?” Satoru asks, although he already knows the answer. He always knew the both of you would end up here sooner or later; you did too, and so did everyone else. After all, life was only fair to its favorites.

“You know I can’t.” Your voice is low, barely above a whisper, glossy eyes trying to meet his, but he doesn’t dare to meet your face.

The people around you two are too busy having other places to be to notice the young lovers under a sign that leaves people like them with hollow, empty hearts.

“We’ll see each other again,” you promise, your thumb dancing around his wrist, trying to cheer him up. However, the white-haired sorcerer shows no hint of comfort from the action.

“And when would that be?” he asks, tears brimming in his eyes. He knew they'd end up like this. He saw this coming. But he was not the slightest bit prepared.

Maybe he was being selfish, Satoru thought. Because although you had a pain-stricken face, he also knows you need this; he knows that you two have to part ways. You’re selfish too, he deems in his head, dragging him along all these months knowing the outcome. Maybe if he wrote you as the villain in his novel, it’d hurt less.

You laugh as if it would help brighten the mood. Grabbing his face with both of your hands, you softly say, “It’ll be okay, 'Toru.”

And he nods, not having it in himself to say anything else. Thankfully, the universe decides to go easy on him as his lover takes this as her cue to leave.

Time has passed since he last saw you. Your voice is nothing more than an echo in his mind, and your smile, one he once knew all too well, still flashes in his head now and then.    

Everything seems to pass so quickly around him, but it’s as if his legs are frozen; he can't go anywhere else, forced to relive moments in his life he longs to forget. 

Maybe, he says to himself, maybe the universe isn’t going easy on me after all. 

His mind recalls the glances he stole before you two started dating and the awkward yet warming first couple of dates that happened not long after. Of course, in order to ask you out, he had to confess first. A chuckle almost leaves his lips as the projector in his head replays the moment you laughed after he confessed his feelings and how his body froze, realizing he was naive for thinking that you’d reciprocate his feelings. At that time, he didn’t know you laughed because you found his nervousness endearing. He knows this now because of the countless nights spent in your apartment, ordering takeout instead of reserving a table at the new five-star restaurant he promised to take you to one day. He’d take in the way your lips parted as his predictions played out on the screen in front of you two, only for his laughter to ring out in the apartment once he admitted to watching the movie the other night. That wasn’t the only secret shared on nights spent like this. With your head against Satoru’s shoulder and the credits playing in the background, you and him would retell the words written on the pages of your own youth and pour out what had you pacing at 2 in the morning.

The sorcerer's mind begins to wander further into the forest of recollection until the sound of his name halts him. Blinking himself out of his trance, he takes in his surroundings; the sound of footsteps coming from one retail store to another reminds him of where he is. Slowly, he turns around and sees you. 

Just like a scene from a movie, the world slows down as you make your way towards him, hands rubbing on the fabric of your jeans, a habit you often do whenever the nerves kick in. Finally reaching him, a small smile paints your face as you lift your head to get a better look at him. His mouth dries as his eyes dance around your face. 

“I’m sorry I took so long,” you break the silence.

It takes a moment for him to respond, but his eyes soften, and he says, “It’s okay.” 

He would never blame you for anything. 

The two of you stare at each other for a moment until he decides to wrap an arm around your shoulder with a playful smile. Walking down the hall, he guides you to the center of the mall, rambling about a dress he saw on display, leaving the sign of the women’s restroom behind.

I love my silly little drama queen sobsob

[sushirrrry]

EXECUTIVE a harry styles one-shot smut blurb; 19.3k words cw: oral sex (f receiving), fingering, dom/sub, breath play, dirty talk.

"If they want the fucking numbers, they've got to stop being pussies and give us the fucking reins. I'm not sitting around and waiting for their stock to crash and for their stupid, fucking minions to come back on me to tell me what I already knew and told them from the start—I'm not painted out to be the biggest fucking moron, that's for certain. It's either a deal or it isn't, plain and simple. If they don't want to have that fucking conversation, it's done. Fuck them and their stupid fucking counteroffer. It's a fucking slap in the face, and I'm not even entertaining the idea."

Harry pulled the phone away from his ear, clicking on End Call before he threw his phone over and onto the wooden desk that sat perpendicular to the vicious New York skyline. His heart raced as he shook his head.

An adrenaline junkie like him fed off of the conversations like these.

His sleeves were pushed up his forearms, his eyes navigated towards the contractual wreckage of paperwork that had seemed to be forgone on his desk as he pushed some of it to the side. His elbows leaned on the desk; his hands tied together as he rested his lips again them in a precocious thought.

Running the company came with a sharp tongue and a knack for knowing when it was time to push back. Harry was a mogul in all of the sense of the word—his company had grown to a gargantuan size, which allowed his position within the business to skyrocket to a level that was so without fail that he couldn't believe it sometimes.

His mouth got the better of him; in some ways, it created the effervescence of attack. It was all that he could do to keep himself from picking the phone back up and telling them to shove it all back up their ass—he refrained for the time being, until he was pushed again.

But no one usually poked the bear unless they truly believed they had a chance in slaughtering them. Mr. Styles was far too confident in his work and his business to ever let that happen.

The bear's claws reacted too quickly for the barrel of the rifle to even face him.

"Uh, excuse me, Mr. Styles?"

His eyes raised to the door that he hadn't seen opening before his lips parted just a bit to answer the woman questioning him. She wore a black skirt with tall, black boots that suited the length of her legs. Her top arranged in a bit of a messy manor, but it was almost as if she had styled it that way to add a bit of flare.

Her blazer hung a bit low—practically to the mid-length of the skirt that rode up her thighs, but he wouldn't have been caught dead staring. In public, anyway.

His eyes made their assessment of her quickly before returning to her naturally, raspberry lips that took up much of her lower face. The natural length of her smile was perfectly proportioned, not that he had spent much time thinking of it, of course.

Felicity—his assistant. The one with eyes the color of the ocean that he would vacation on in the Maldives; the most piercing, stunning blue. The quiet one, a bit shy in her reservations, almost like she was the smallest fish in the ocean made entirely of sharks. Her reservations to others seemed to aid in bulldozing over her confidence, but to Harry, it was an enticing spectacle of fantasy.

A fantasy he'd promise to never share with even his closest comrades, if an NDA wasn't in place, that is.

The dark brown locks settled against her back in heaps of loose, voluminous curls as she held tightly to the phone behind her fingers.

"Am I interrupting?" She asked, her question a bit hesitant as she didn't seem to move any further forward into the large space of his office.

"No—no, you're not," He told her, "Come in, Felicity, I need to use your brain for a moment."

"My brain?" She asked him, cocking her head a bit.

That was the thing about Felicity that almost made him foam at the mouth– her way of innocence and contemplation that allowed him to see his viewpoints from her standpoint.

Harry's company was outsourcing most of the global news which meant that he oversaw several departments within. His leadership was only as good as the recommendations and guidance that Felicity was able to provide him; her devil's advocacy, her interpretation of empathy, and being able to see how interactions happened without Harry present versus the other sense.

Felicity was a practical need in his company for various reasons, not one to just make his blood boil and frantically move around his veins every time he caught a whiff of the coconut lime scent that his mind had become familiar with.

She was a calmness to him in many ways, so her presence now settled his heartbeat from the previous conversation.

"That deal we're making this afternoon, I just got off the phone with Sadler and they're folding– they're becoming weak. And it's pissing my off. They're coming to me to help solve their issues, because they know I can do it. They're , but they know we'll do it. Which pisses me off because it makes us look weak if we just say yes."

Felicity blinked a few times as she watched Harry's reaction, her legs crossed at the feeling before she held her hands in front of her and nodded.

Harry sucked his lips into his mouth before he shook his head, a few of loose curls settled on his forehead as he pushed them back and Felicity wished that he hadn't.

"I think you're going to push them to do it without the counter," Felicity nodded. "From what I'm hearing, they're folding, and they can see that what we can provide is significant. Especially in terms of the election. We can do it– you can do it."

His eyes flew to her word change, noticing that her eyes had moved away from him. The subtle blush of pink ate away at her cheeks before Harry nodded in his own satisfaction.

"Enough about me," He shook his head, "What did you need, Felicity?"

Her eyes raised as it seemed she came back to conclusion about what she had been there for to begin with.

"Oh, I just talked with Nava at PLI and they wanted to express their gratitude towards you, because they said that you helped them with understanding the fundamentals of their offer and I thought it sounded like a for-sure deal– I just wanted you to know that Nava is a yes," She nodded and raised her brows again in remembrance, "Oh! And I'm also running to pick up some coffee and snacks before the board meeting. Flat white?"

Harry smirked at the praise from her, watching it leave her lips effortlessly. He nodded a few times at her question before he rose from his chair and grabbed the tie around his neck to loosen just a bit.

Harry grabbed the paperwork off of his desk before he moved towards the door and guided Felicity to follow. "Yes, please. A flat white with cinnamon, maybe a pump of caramel? What do you think?"

The words were like a question as Felicity walked next to him through the natural, brightly lit office. Her fingers tapped away at the device before she noticed the slight edge of the spicy cologne that wafted from his demeanor as he turned his head toward her.

"I'm not a huge fan of caramel," She stated a bit hesitantly as they stopped in front of one of the offices where Harry was about to go into a meeting.

He looked at Felicity as they stopped, his eyes moving up and down as he went from her lips to her eyes as if involved in a game of ping-pong.

"What do you like, then?" His words were soft, fluid.

Felicity swallowed as she shook her head a few times and nibbled on her lip. She hummed for a moment, "Um, I prefer vanilla."

The corner of Harry's lip moved upwards. "Make it a hot flat white with an extra shot of espresso, cinnamon, and a pump of vanilla, please."

Felicity wrote it down in her notes, but her fingers almost shook with adrenaline as she felt his gaze linger on her without her noticing before she nodded. "Great. I'll– uh, I'll leave now so I can be back in time to make sure you have what you need."

Her feet started to move away before she heard the booming sensation of her name. The way that her eyes fluttered back at him made Harry almost take a step backward.

"Uh," He felt speechless at the sudden look of her, "Please get whatever you need, too." He felt the professionalism start to creep its way back in. "Can't have you falling asleep on the job, you have notes to write."

Felicity bit the inside of her cheek before she nodded. "Yes, sir."

With that, Felicity turned her back and started to head down towards the elevators. Harry turned to make his way into the boardroom where he saw the table sitting and waiting for his arrival.

The hush that fell over the crowd made him shutter every time– the power he held echoed through his conscious at every moment it could.

He only smirked as he sat at the head of the table, pulling himself to sit up and lean on the table before he looked up to see the many eyes staring back at him.

"Shall we get to work then?"

__________________

"This coffee is fucking cold."

One of the board members pushed it away after taking a small sip, as Felicity had just sat it down in front of him.

It was an older gentleman– Hank– who had worked with the Styles family for many years and been able to help SCO with their major launches with other shareholders. His entitlement was present in the room, which pressed on her ego just a bit. Her head turned towards him as she shook hers.

A woman at the end of the time made a face as she looked at the side of the cup, "Ordered a fucking latte—they even messed it up and it's cold. The coffee shop is just down the block."

Felicity tucked some hair behind her ears as she shook her head in a bit of disbelief as she tried to find the receipt that the coffeehouse had given her. There wasn't any way that they gave her the wrong order, but she didn't know if there may have been a mix-up in who she gave the coffees to.

"T-That's impossible—I just order—" But she was cut off by the man who licked over his lips and held his hand up to stop her words from even echoing in the room at all.

"Just go get some hot coffee, would you?"

Felicity's eyes blazed around the room as she noticed that the others had practically ignored her efforts of the two full cardboard contents of coffee cups that she had practically run the streets of New York to pick up. Not only were they not even acknowledging her, but they were condescending in her efforts. Yes, she was an assistant—she wasn't their assistant. It wasn't her fault that she was one person, but she knew that she had to try harder to make the best impression that she could.

"Everyone just shut the fuck up and drink your coffees, would you? Our deadline is in six fucking hours. If you can't handle a little lukewarm coffee, get the fuck out of my office. I pay too much of your goddamn salaries for you to cry like a fucking baby."

Harry's eyes moved to the nervous-looking girl who stood by the door, along the edge of the buffet that held the rest of the coffee, donuts, and bagels that had practically been falling out of her arms when she arrived.

He couldn't tell—it may have been the lighting, but her eyes looked glassy as she tried to stand with her shoulders back. Harry caught her attention before she threw herself back together and walked over towards him, leaning down to where he sat at the table.

"I can run to go get something else, I don't think it would take too long, you know. Or I could order it to be delivered?" Felicity asked, a bit cautious, he could tell. But her piercing blue eyes were practically a shade of gray as he looked at them through her thick, tortoiseshell glasses that complimented the brightness of her eyes.

His eyes fell to the way that the chapstick she always applied gave her lips the most subtle peony color—so pink, but so natural. He thought that may be a better place for his eyes to land instead of directly into her eyes, but then he panicked for a moment and turned them back to her eyes.

"That's not necessary." Harry shook his head, answering for the individuals in the room. Even if they pushed their coffee aside, Harry would have never blamed it on Felicity for any failure—it wasn't her fault. He took a sip of his own; to his dismay, it was a bit cold, but he wasn't going to complain about it.

The stature of Felicity at the door made him take in a deep breath before he caught her attention, asking her to come towards him with just a look before she was practically on top of him. Her willingness to do as he said gave him a feeling of endorphins that were unlike any he had before.

Harry looked up at her from his seat, licking over his lips softly.

"Please make a reservation for two at The Malbec tonight at nine—whether or not these jackasses are going to be done working, I sure am, and I'm going to celebrate it. Add that I would like the executive seating and the Pauillac on the table, not chilled."

She nodded a few times at his requests, adding it into her notes on her phone before she looked back at him cautiously.

"Should I be arranging a car to pick someone up for you?" She asked. Her teeth scraping against her bottom lip as she waited for his response.

Harry shook his head back at her before filing through a few papers, "Not necessary today. Just make sure that you're not off the clock yet," He nods, "In case something doesn't go as planned."

Felicity nodded at the feeling of his eyes on hers before he turned to face the table before him.

"Someone get John on the phone," Harry ordered, his eyes going towards, "Hank. I want their numbers for the day and the plan for the fiscal year. I want to hear it from their lips, the spreadsheets don't mean shit if they're just going to lie to my face. Mary, contact PLI to get their rates."

Felicity had started to make her way towards the door, back towards her desk that sat in the main office towards Harry's own private one, before Harry called her back, "Felicity, sit in this meeting, will you? Grab your computer."

Her eyes narrowed at him in a bit of confusion before he stood up and grabbed a chair from the side of the room and pulled it to the spot next to where he was, at the head of the table.

Felicity did as he wished, leaving to grab her laptop and notebook essentials that she used to keep track of his days, his weeks. When she arrived back, she could feel a few eyes on her as they talked through the deal with John. The silence in the room as he spoke over the speaker was deafening before she sat down at the spot next to Harry.

His focus on the conversation made her attention turn towards him.

Working at SCO was one of Felicity's highest honors—she felt that her confidence was gained just by being in the room with some of these people. But, at the same time, she wondered at what point this would all get to her. She wasn't like this—she didn't have the same cutthroat mindset of tearing another down to get herself to another place.

In some respects, that's what was the balance between what Harry was and what he knew that he needed. He needed someone like Felicity to sit next to him—a calming sensation that he didn't ever notice until he would garner a sniff of the coconut shampoo that drifted from her silky chestnut hair.

It was sickening at times—the way he felt about her. When he was sitting next to her now, he watched as she let her fingers grace over the laptop keys, focused in on whatever task she was working on. His eyes moved away when he watched as her teeth loosened on her lower lip, letting the plumpness of it a drawback to a straightened line of her mouth.

He shifted in his seat as he felt himself get a sensation of pressure below the belt.

When he spoke, it was with a confidence that she couldn't seem to place. It was as if he could break and make with just words alone, a skill that he had to have been born with.

As they discussed the offers more in-depth, Felicity found herself distracted from her own work as she let her eyes gently maneuver back to where Harry sat at the end of the table. Her fingers practically stopped typing as she listened to the conversation and watched as his brain work in overtime.

It wasn't just impressive; it was extraordinary.

The narrowing of his brows, the calculated glance at the table as if he could cut through it with just his sight, the determined clench of his jaw.

"Don't fucking low-ball this," Harry practically snarled as he tapped the point of his pen to his notepad. "I know what's best for this company and we don't want people who underestimate the work and quality of our services. Globally, we're ahead of the entire market– we beat out every major network in significance. If you truly want to hand us a shitty number like that, you'll fucking fall. Your company will fail, and we will continue to sit right at the top as you lick the dirt off our shoes. It's not a competition; we've already won. So, do you want to win with us? That's the question here."

There's a slow chuckle on the phone, a bit of silence, too. Felicity looks up from her laptop to watch as a few members whisper to one another before hearing John on the other end.

"Listen, it's– we understand this. SCO is globally leading, but this is an election year– how are we supposed to gain traction when the news sources from SCO are against the current climate? We just don't see the same vision right now and we need to make sure our values are aligning– SCO may not be leading once the election happens."

Harry's eyes don't dim– Felicity watches as he turns different, his focus staying on the notepad under his fingers as he takes a beat before he stares at the phone in the middle of the table.

Her leg crosses under the table, gently caressing his unbeknownst to her. His eyes falter for once, as she retracts her position when she watches him crack for the first time. She noticed that he faltered but only a small huff of his breath before she bit her lip.

"We're a multi-billion-dollar company that focuses on the current political climate at hand since we completely understand the market, unlike someone who needs to be bought out to ensure that they don't sink. If you're just sitting in the open water, we will look the other way when a shark comes by," Harry shrugs, "I don't quite understand your vision of understanding moral compasses when you're sitting on significant lawsuits and company fouls that don't seem to benefit you right now or the lying, cheating words that come from your mouth."

Felicity's eyes flew up from her place at the table, watching as she saw everyone else's down. It was an unmistakable feeling of vigor that suddenly oozed from the place of Harry's seat. His demeanor was powerful, it was penetrable.

The quietness over the phone doesn't seem to faze anyone else, but Harry's eyebrow arches at the seconds that go by before he pops his tongue into the side of his mouth with a cheeky grin that was questioning on mad.

"Looks like they just got eaten by that fucking shark, huh." He says quietly before leaning over to press onto the conference room phone. He ended the call before he watched the room continue in silence.

Another woman, Laura, sitting at one of the sides spoke up as she held her phone in her hands.

"It looks like they're countering again." It was a bit quiet, almost like she didn't want the entire room to hear as she read on her phone before looking up at Harry, who held the emotion of a bear.

"Tell them they can choke on their own spit." He bites before Felicity cleared her throat.

His eyes immediately softened at the way that she interrupted, mostly because he was a bit confused by it.

"Mr. Styles," She pipped, "I—I, um, if I may." She chews on her lip a bit before she takes in a breath. "It sounds like they're needing a bit more leverage. Maybe a bit more face-to-face interaction that will cut and garner the deal. You're going to need more than John's input; he needs more intel from other aspects to understand what their losses look like."

Harry's eyes simply rest on Felicity as he leans back in the office chair, his legs crossed—a pursed pout on his lips as he nods at her words. A trickle of egotistical pride lies beneath his chest as he stares at her for a moment.

"Set the scene for me." He tells her, before watching Felicity take a deep breath. He watches her chest fall and rise and something about it sets him into high gear.

"Your family started this from scratch—this company is bigger than just the cash flow, and it's completely understood that it's worth billions, but they need to understand that there's a larger purpose for the work that they've put into it. They're not on the same business level that SCO is—it's apparent by the way that they throw around their value system. Meet with John outside of the office setting, get him where he can be able to see that you're serious without the psychological barrier of the phone—"

"That's fucking bullshit." Felicity hears from down the table, another man making a comment about her complete train of thought that. "You really think business is about emotion?"

Harry narrowed his brows, Felicity a bit surprised but not completely. Her head turning back towards her computer.

"You need to be thinking internally for what's best for us, not babying them to give us what we want. You know they're going to fall right into our hands, we don't need to get soft on them." Mary, a woman that Felicity generously thought would at least have an understanding of her interests, seemed to shame her more.

Harry pursed out his lips as he stares at the notepad in front of him. He pushed his hands against the table to rise from his seat before he's raised, watching silently as he eyes Felicity quickly before he starts to make his way out of the room. Before he does so, he turns his back and holds onto the door before he looks at Felicity directly.

"Felicity, please meet me in my office."

She swallows down the lump in her throat; cursing herself for even making a peep. She knew she should have kept her mouth shut. Instead, she closed the laptop before she grabs the few belongings and makes her way out of the door.

Harry is steps ahead of her, not looking back, as they make their way to the office that sits in the north side of the larger office space.

When he walks in, he makes his way to his desk before leaning on it. Felicity walks in behind him, hesitating before

Harry notices that she hasn't fully made her way in yet.

"Come in," He tells her, "Take a seat."

Her words practically spilling out of her as soon as they reached the threshold of the door; there was nothing that she could say now that would make him keep her there, but she wanted to at least try.

"I-I know I overstepped my boundaries– I promise, I really do, I promise I will never do that again," She's holding the laptop against her chest, practically begging, "This is extremely unprofessional, but you need to know that I need this–"

"Do you know why you're still here, Felicity?" He asks, "Why you're still at SCO?"

His interrupted words make hers fall short as she stands at the door still. His arms are holding himself practically against the desk as he leans back against it.

Tears threaten her eyes as she tries to think of what she needs to pack from her desk quickly. This feels entirely too personal– he's firing her on the spot.

She shakes her head as she doesn't want to come up with an answer. Harry squints his eyes a bit as he notices the emotion that starts to creep on her face. All the sudden, he feels bad for what he's doing to her.

It feels a bit forward, maybe a bit out of his place. But he needs her to know exactly how he feels about her, and why the last assistants never stuck around.

He needs her to know that's she's different.

"It's because you're fucking smart," He tells her, "What you have, they lack. You have this– well, for lack of a better word, you're emotional. You can see beyond the bullshit and really down to the person." He points towards the area of the conference room that they just left.

"I'm not here to baby your ass or carry you through this job– you don't need this fucking job. You have so much more about you than being an assistant, okay? So, don't take what some fuckers in that office say about you and your ideas as gospel. They aren't getting it done, either– as you can see."

Felicity's demeanor loosens at his words; her knuckles along the laptop at her chest starts to loosen as she breathes in just a bit.

"I'm sorry–"

"Stop apologizing." He orders, "When you do that, all you're doing is making them right about you. They aren't."

There's a silence between them for a moment before Felicity nods a few times and bites at her lip. "You're right."

"Most of the time." He tells her, a smirk has replaced the seriousness of their conversation. "That's why I have this big office and a 300ft. yacht and they don't."

She follows with her own small, sided smirk, watching as he goes to move from his position.

"That sounded very cocky, I'm sorry." He laughed a little bit, lowering his head as he felt a bubble of laughter. Felicity followed behind, laughing a bit as she bit on her lower lip.

The tension had been cut; this overwhelming feeling of comfort had started to come across her, specifically when Harry looked back up at her and she could see the shining level of his green eyes and the deepening dimples crossing his face.

It wasn't an emotion she saw very often; it looked impossibly lovely on him.

"Stop saying sorry, remember?" She reminded him, a sheepish smile laying on her lips.

Harry moved his fists into his pockets as he started to walk a bit towards her.

It was then that Felicity recognized that his pure power and force was enough to knock her down to her knees. The way that he stood up, his suit tailored perfectly around his small hips and shoulders, she couldn't understand the feeling that had come over her suddenly.

Harry approached her, they were standing eye to eye as he searched between them both. He had been searching for something, surely, by the way his eyes moved between her own.

Felicity tipped her chin up a little bit; it was slight enough that they both noticed, but a sudden embarrassment crossed her thought at the way she had possibly invited a completely inappropriate behavior.

"Let's get back in there, yeah?" She clears her throat as she turned her head and body, moving back out towards the conference room.

Harry's fists tightened next to him at the way she moved away, and he couldn't help but shutter at what could have possibly happened moments ago.

He lowered his head before he shook it a few times, "Yes, of course," He confirmed, nodding at her, "I'll follow you back, I'm just going to," He felt himself getting hot which made him feel vulnerable to her stares. "I'll be in there in a moment."

Felicity turned, her hair falling over her shoulders before she nodded. "Yeah, no problem."

Before she was able to move out of the room, Harry caught her attention once again before he narrowed his eyes to her. "Can I—that reservation I asked you to schedule. Please move it to Friday night. Something's come up, actually."

Felicity made a motion to speak, but she didn't end up with any words. Instead, just nodding a few times, her eyes smiling back at him as she agreed to his request. "Sure, no problem."

Her smile had vanished from his view as she turned to walk back to the conference room.

When she noticed that she was out of sight, his eyes had widened just at the breath that he had been holding in. It didn't matter how big or important a meeting could be, Harry never got nervous. He was never worried about anything—he knew what he was getting himself into, and nothing scared him. There wasn't a reason to be.

Standing in front of Felicity was a feeling he had never imagined would give him a doubt; he never felt like he would be pushed away or turned away, and the feeling of dismissal was encapsulating, to say the least.

He pushed his hand into his hair as he went to sit in the chair that was pushed in behind his desk, swallowing the lump in his throat as he shook his head.

Never in a million years did he think that he would feel such a way—never like this.

"Let's get back to work, then."

_______________

It had been a few days since the encounter in his office. Harry had noticed that even the next morning, Felicity seemed to be in much better spirits. Her head was held high; her shoulders were sitting back, like she was prepared to keep her chin up for the day.

He could catch glimpses from his office, watching as she typed away or smiled down at her phone. A piece of him felt only the slightest bit of—he didn't know the feeling very well—jealous. He wanted to know more, wanted to understand what she could have been smiling at.

He knew that his job had been done a few days ago as he watched her spirits rise just at his words. Something about that feeling was missing now—he didn't understand what it was, but his ego may have been getting in the way just a bit.

Harry sat his pen down that he had been using to write out some tasks before he grabbed the pad of paper and started to make his way out of his office. The small desk that sat outside of his was taken by Felicity; a few photos and memorabilia sat to give her space a bit of light and personalization.

It didn't mimic Harry's own office very well, as his was kept more straightforward and narrower. There wasn't any photos or personalized mementos—just plain, really. But the photo of Felicity and another man caught his eye, something he had never really seen before. Something he never felt that he would have had to pay attention to, that is.

"That your boyfriend?" He felt himself saying, but an ultimate feeling of embarrassment rose as he watched Felicity look up at him quickly. It was clear that she hadn't really noticed him sneak up on her, and her hands flew to the phone on the desk before closing the screen promptly.

"Uh," She shook her head, "I—I mean, we've been talking a few months," She referenced to the phone before she looked back at Harry and noticed that there may have been a bit of miscommunication.

"Oh—uh, no, sorry," He shook his head, pointing to the photo that sat on her desk. "I was—that photo, I'd never seen that before."

Felicity turned her eyes towards the photo that sat on her desk in the black frame before letting out a breath of relief. "Oh! No, that's my brother." She laughed a little bit before she watched Harry reach out to grab the picture frame off her desk.

He studied it for a few seconds, letting his smile move up a bit before he sat it back down. "Yeah, you guys look alike. I just—it was new, so I didn't know."

Felicity bit on her lip before tucking her hair behind her ears, "No—yeah, I would make that assumption, too. It's fine, but yeah." She didn't know that he would notice that she set up the photo or not. She knew now that he paid attention; he had an attention to detail, it seemed.

The small moment gave Harry a bit of concern as he felt that there was some unresolved feeling between the two of them. He cleared his throat, holding the paper out before her as she piqued at the small task guide that Harry had been feverishly writing down.

"I have a few things that I need to get done today, if you don't mind." He had handed her the paper before her eyes ran over it a few times. "It's just a few little things, but I need to have a few suits dry-cleaned for our business summit on Monday in England—I'm flying out tomorrow morning on the jet, but we'll need to make sure that everything is taken care of for that. I believe you, myself, Laura, Hank, Daniel, and probably William will be there, so we'll need to make—"

"Excuse me, but," Felicity chuckled before shaking her head a few times. "Did you say me?"

Harry blinks a few times in confusion before he bites the inside of his cheek. Surely, she knew that she would be leaving in the morning– she had to have known that as his assistant, she would be most responsible for being on the trip.

"Uh, well," Harry blinked, "Yes, I mean. of course. You're the most vital person for the trip, really."

Felicity bit into her lip before she turned towards her notes, her eyes flickering over them as she realized she wouldn't need to send him a detailed email of their agenda– she'd be there to tell him in person. So, all this work—it didn't matter now.

"Right– yeah, of course. I'm stupid for not putting that together." She shook her head as she took in a sigh, crossing out a few notes on her pad. She turned her attention back to him before she cleared her throat. "What time should I be at the airport tomorrow, then?"

Harry bit his lip, shrugging as he felt the smile crossing his lips, "I don't know—you tell me. You're my assistant."

Felicity blinked at him a few times before laughing out a little bit, letting her head rest in her hands as she felt a bit ridiculous for feeling so caught off guard. "Right—right. I—yeah."

In the back of his head, there was a delicate feeling of intrigue that bit at the back of him. He squinted his eyes a bit as he settled against the edge of her desk. As he crossed his arms over his chest, he narrowed his attention down to Felicity until she looked up at him and felt the wandering look. All Felicity knew is that she didn't want to look at the way that his forearms protruded against the fabric of his pressed white button-down.

"Is everything alright?" He asked her, the smile on his lips tug briefly before he was letting it fully on display. "You seem a bit... caught up."

She blinked a few times, shaking her head as she looked at her computer screen. "I'm fine—yeah. I'm just—I was a bit caught up, I guess," She chewed on her lip as she realized that getting personal was just that. It was personal. She didn't want to bore him or let know too far in. Their relationship was strictly business; it seemed that she endeared him though.

Her eyes traveled back to him when he didn't seem to leave her alone and she noticed that she'd had another message.

"I'm just... the guy I've been seeing, well, on and off—he just asked me to dinner and he's picking me up from here tonight around five. We haven't seen each other in a while, he's a bit..." She bites her lip again as she tried to find the right word, "I don't hear from him often. But when we're together, everything is fine. So, I guess I just got a bit overwhelmed with it."

Harry pinches the inside of his bicep when she speaks, his smile fading just a bit. He didn't want her to notice that, though. He didn't know why, but it left a sour taste in his mouth to think that she had been excited for someone who was making her wait. Instead, he shifted a bit on the desk as he cleared his own throat before speaking.

"That's—that's great," He tells her, watching as she smiles at his appreciation and acceptance, "Where is he taking you?"

"We're just going to this place off from fifth avenue, some place he said is nice. We're really just meeting for a beer or something." Felicity's eyes light up at the realization before she turns to face him a bit head on now, her chair swiveling around before she crosses her legs and faces him. "What about you, though? That reservation I made for you tonight—who are you meeting with?"

Harry's lip parted as he remembered the reservation.

He remembered the reservation he had moved to tonight, simply so that he could flesh out a few details with Felicity over a dinner with just the two of them. Of course, he hadn't mentioned it to her. It was stupid of him to think that she wouldn't be busy on a Friday evening, of course. He had wanted to talk to her about the upcoming week; maybe get a little more out of her if everything was off the record at a dinner that wasn't going on the company credit card, but his own personal dollar.

Harry shakes his head a bit before he scratches at the back of his head, "Uh, right. I—I might need to cancel that. I don't think that's going to happen anymore."

Felicity watches his expression before she seems to mimic with a bit of somber. "Oh. Sorry. Tough subject?"

When he pushed himself from her desk, he placed his hands in his pockets before he hung his head a little bit. It hadn't occurred to him that the disappointment had been a bit stronger than anticipated-- and it wasn't just because he always got what he wanted.

"Hm, something like that," He tried to explain before he changed the subject to get it off his mind, "But yeah. So, dry-cleaning and all that can be finished before the morning, yeah? If you have any questions about any of that, I'll be in my office. Meeting at one and then I'm going to leave here around five."

Giving him a warm smile, Felicity nodded her head at him, watching as he turned to his office.

Her attention fell back to her phone; falling back to the smile and giddiness that had been so rudely interrupted by a different kind of feeling—one that she wasn't so sure she was supposed to enjoy, in that way, anyways.

_______________

The black Suburban pulled up against the curb; Harry's phone against his ear as he moved towards the vehicle in a fluid motion.

A driver had opened the door before he crawled in the back seat. The call on the other end had been a business call that he was supposed to listen in on; he wasn't going to speak, just listen to the meeting of what was said. He decided it had been enough and clicked it to end before he looked up and out of the window.

His head turned towards the door before he watched Felicity standing at the curb. She looked uncomfortable as she stood and had her eyes searching for whatever it was that she was looking for.

It was a little bit past six then; the rest of the day was filled with a meeting or two before he really started to get more work, letting his head get wrapped up in taking calls and finishing off emails before he would be away from the office for a bit.

This was how they left each other on most days; his car pulled up, and he usually drove away before he could notice if she caught another ride or if she headed towards the subway. Her eyes were searching— almost like she had been waiting for something or someone but didn't want to seem disappointed. Harry could feel it in his chest—he could feel the way that she stood with her arms crossed over her chest in a bit of distress.

It had occurred to him then that Felicity had mentioned that she was supposed to be picked up around five—a full hour ago.

The rain had started just a bit, enough that she quickly looked to the sky for a moment as if to curse it.

He watched as her phone fumbled in her hands. A discerned look on her face made him halt the driver before they could start pulling away. Harry watched her, the knowing look on his face as he rolled down the window to call out towards her.

"Felicity," He stated, opening the door before he stepped out. "Come on, get in."

Her eyes looked to him, practically mortified. Her head started to shake a bit before he moved out of the car just enough that she noticed his offer was serious and that he wasn't moving. The door was open now as he stood outside of it and held it open for her.

"Let's go– it's raining." He said, squinting a bit as the rain started coming down a bit more.

It seriously took Harry a moment before he realized that it may take a bit more for Felicity to listen to him; her contemplation didn't last long as the rain started to hit the cement loudly—her papers and bag held over her head as she made her way towards the open door of the large vehicle.

Felicity's heels clicked against the sidewalk as she hurried into the back of the van, crawling across to the other side and trying to keep her skirt down as she realized he would be coming right behind her.

There was a brief pause of silence when the door shut behind Harry.

Once they were situated in the backseat, Harry looked at her for a moment as she seemed a bit out of sorts. Her eyes were on her phone as she cleared her throat.

Her eyes were narrowed down as she searched through some texts, a bit all over the place it seemed. Harry knew Felicity better than this, and her nerves were starting to overwhelm her hand, almost like she was completely unsure of what was happening right now.

"Do you just—do you mind dropping me off at fifth ave—" She had started, but he was already shaking his head.

"He's not showing up, so no. Peter, drop us at The Malbec."

Her head turned towards him at the bluntness of his tone and the way that he resisted her need. The way that he answered her was unlike he had ever spoken to her; that caught her off guard the most.

Felicity flipped through her texts once again before she scoffed out, "Harry, I have a date tonight. I'll just get a car from there—"

"No, you won't." He told her, before situating himself in the back. The way that her hair had a bit of windswept to it, the length of her lashes, the complete blush of her cheeks—it was all enough for him to generally bust at the seams.

Seeing her like that was a wake-up call as he looked away and tried his best to be a gentleman.

"I'm off the clock, so my duties are relinquished for the night." She told him sharply, giving herself a bit more voice before Harry really glared at her this time. He had never heard her speak to him in such a way, but something about it gave him a mouthful to bite from.

"Don't fucking talk to me like that, I'm your boss." He told her; his eyes seemingly turning a darker color the more she stared at him. It was enough for her to scoff and turn her head out of the window as they had started to drive up towards the restaurant that she refused to go to.

Harry spoke again, this time a bit softer. "It's just dinner. No work."

It takes a moment before Felicity leans into the window and lets her head rest against the glass. The feeling of the coolness takes over before she shuts her eyes for a moment. It doesn't feel like she wants to cry, but maybe there's a bit of emotion that she can't seem to let go of.

The disappointment aspect was never good to her; that was how this always worked. Something always disappointed her. There hadn't been a moment when she felt comfortable or safe—no, really, she just wandered around in this life with so much hope. So much hope and very little pride, now.

She lived for the hope of it all.

When they made their way to the restaurant, it had started to rain a little less. It was merely a sprinkle before Peter pulled off to the curb closest and the two of them were able to get out.

Felicity was instructed that she could leave her work items in the car, bringing only her purse as Harry followed behind her. When they walked into the restaurant, her eyes widened at how fancy it was—the dim lit lights were much brighter than the sky had been at this time of day, especially when the clouds rolled in.

The host was able to take them directly to their seats—the ones that Felicity had made the reservation for. It was an intimate seat; two chair and a small table that were seated close to the window, but enough away from everyone else.

The Paulliac was on the table as instructed; the host pulled the chair out for Felicity before she was able to take a seat. The only reason she would have ever been to a restaurant like this is for a work event. The host sat menus in front of them before giving them some space.

Harry pushed his sleeves up on his forearm; the littering of tattoos on him was endearing to Felicity's eye before she looked away at the attention she was drawing to them.

"Wine?" He asked her softly, taking the bottle from the table and holding it out in a means to offer her some. She had agreed, nodding a few times before looking at the menu and the items on it. Surely, she couldn't pronounce half of them before she looked up to see that Harry had been looking at her already and her cheeks grew rosier.

Felicity felt that there was a tenseness now, like she didn't have too much to say. She didn't want to say too much and bore him, she didn't want to not say a word and feel the awkwardness that seemed to linger as they sat longer.

"I mean, since we're here," Felicity grabbed the phone from her purse as she scrolled through it, pushing her hair out of her face to tame it a bit from the frizz that the rain caused, "So, just to recap some new additions to the calendar, you have a dental appointment next Monday, a meeting with PLI at 10—"

"You said you grew up in DC, didn't you?" Harry cuts her off, his question making her turn to look at him with a solid glance before she starts to nod a few times. It was a bit unwarranted, but she decided that she would settle into it.

Felicity doesn't know why his soft voice seems so foreign from the bitter sound of his usual bite.

"Y-Yes, yeah, I grew up in Northern Virginia, actually." She gives him a solid answer before she licks her lips. Her hand moves to grab the wine glass, taking a solid sip before she places it back into its spot on the white knit tablecloth.

Harry nods at her simple answer, not necessarily looking for anything else. His head was filled with the worked he had been processing through the week, and something about this felt... warranted. He wanted this to be normal; to feel like she could see him from a different perspective, maybe, without less fear in her eyes.

Something about her makes his blood boil with a derailment—it's almost like he can't seem to read her, which makes him angry and animalistic, almost. He doesn't know why but he feels a bit shy in her presence.

Her eyes read over the menu before she clicks her tongue, "Anything on here that you would recommend?"

"You have any food aversions?" He asks, pretending to look over the menu as if he didn't already know what he was going to order.

She shook her head, not really thinking of anything. She knew that there were foods she didn't particularly enjoy, but she knew that if something was going to be expensive, she would put that aside to at least try.

When the waiter came by, Harry took initiate to order for the table– the two of them. He ordered an entrée, three appetizers, and a spring salad. Felicity listened as he did so, knowing that he knew what he wanted and when he wanted it.

She couldn't relate to that; not these days, at least. She didn't know what she wanted, so she pretended not to think about it most days. Instead, she recognized that not putting the pressure on it made it feel like it was enough; she had to understand that she was okay to be a bit unsure at times.

The restaurant has a crowded chatter amongst the guests, but Harry can't help but pay attention to the silence of the table instead.

"So," He pulls at the tie around his neck just a bit as he leans towards her at the table. "I'm thinking of possible meeting with PLI, in person. Like you mentioned this week, at that meeting. Something about looking someone in the eye might be the best approach and making sure everything is clean."

His eyes lifted to meet hers, watching as she took another sip of the wine. Her eyes were placed now on her hands that laid in her lap.

"Thought this wasn't a work dinner." She mumbled out, but suddenly caught herself, "But yeah– yeah, I think that would be good."

Harry pressed his tongue into his cheek, tilting his head a little bit as he heard her questioned statement. His frustration at not being able to read her was posing a threat to his mood before he shrugged a little bit, "It doesn't have to be, but you are kind of quiet, and I feel like I made you uncomfortable in the car. Or something."

"I'm not uncomfortable," She lied, "I'm– I don't know. I'm just a bit thrown by the events of the evening, and I think men are kind of preposterous right now. Please don't take that personally, and really, no offense or anything."

Harry shrugged, his lips turning downwards as he contemplated the truth in her statement, "None taken. I may agree with you, but," He licked his lips, "Can we agree that women are sometimes a bit..."

As he hesitated for a moment, Felicity spoke instead. "I would suggest that you not finish that sentence, probably. It sounds like the beginning of an HR concern."

Harry lifts a brow in curiosity from her argument that seemingly pushed her a bit out of the boundaries, "You can speak, but I can't? Don't believe that's a fair view of how you think women should live in society, is it? You want fair treatment, so I'm going to be honest with you."

"I didn't limit you from speaking, I just suggested that you should not. You can definitely say whatever it is that you'd like to say to me, Mr. Styles." Felicity shook her head a bit, tucking her hair behind her ear. The way that she said his name always made him a bit woozy.

There was a moment when Harry wasn't completely sure that he didn't see the glimmer in her eye—that he didn't see a sparkle that may have been a fleeting moment, just a quick nod to him before it was gone forever, making him look mad for even thinking it in the first place.

"I will say it, then, if you're willing to listen," Harry told her, "I think that men and women aren't usually equal—nor should they be," He paused for a moment before he watched as her facial expression started to contour with a confusion so loud that he was certain the chefs in the back could hear. "I think that we live in a balancing act. For instance, the guy that you were looking to see—sure, he's probably an asshole, but you continued to want to see him. The pendulum works both ways. Maybe you shouldn't have wanted to meet up with him."

Felicity scoffed out a breath before she took a sip of the wine again—she could feel that there was a growing fuzziness that she wasn't able to keep up with. "Oh, you're giving me relationship advice now?"

The way that she bit when she had a bit of alcohol in her made Harry's eyes turn a darker shade of green that was unable to be noticed by the dimness of the restaurant that sat in. It was much more direct than she ever had been with him before; he wondered if this was how she was normally.

"I like to think I have your best interest in mind." He tells her with full honesty, feeling a bit bare with the truth laying flat on the table.

There is a moment that Felicity feels her heartstring tug, wondering if he meant it to hit her as specifically as it did. But she clears her throat when she watches the way that Harry refills the glass of red wi the out her asking for it, noticing that he fingers tremble when he grabs the bottle.

"I— I really do appreciate it, like, what you– I mean, you probably don't remember, but just this week with the whole coffee incident–"

Felicity is cut-off, by him, but she can see that the anger peculates off of him as he recalls the incident, "I hate that they think people are below them like that. It bothers the shit out of me," She can tell that the thought bothers him; his eyes narrow down as he takes a sip of his own wine, "Yes, it's your fucking job, but it's also not worth their time to be shitty to you for something you can't control. And you couldn't be nicer, grateful, kind—"

Harry's cut off by the food coming to the table. He shakes his head at the possible embarrassment he may encounter from the softness of rambling he had started to portray about some of her highest qualities.

The dinner that came out was exceptional— nothing less of what Felicity could have imagined. It was top-tier; the wine that was paired with it made her giggle a few times when Harry would go on rants about the way that he thought some of the companies ran. He would start the conversation with, 'off the record' and she would smile about how he could keep their conversations low.

It wasn't until she had told a soft-spoken jab about how she believed that he needed to stop hiring old, white men that she noticed that his dimples were parallel on either side of his face. They lit up his features, turning his eyes the color of a southern sky.

When they had finished, Harry took the check with ease and signed his name in capital letters, as if he wanted everyone to know that he had spent the amount of money at dinner that she spent in a month of rent.

Harry placed his hand on the small of her back as they maneuvered out to the car. The street was starting to become a bit crowded, especially at the door for the wait. Harry had texted his driver to make sure they could be picked up, which again, he made sure to open the door for her as they flew into the backseat.

Felicity told the driver where she needed to go; back to her apartment that sat on the upper West side of the city. It was close to Central Park; a few blocks away, she'd say.

There's a moment when Harry feels that he doesn't want the night to end. He surely doesn't want to watch her leave— that's for sure. The car ride is spent with him catching her glances as they watch the lights in the city pass by; the honking of the cars and the putter of rain starts to encapsulate the backseat.

"Is this good for drop off?" The driver asks, looking in the rearview mirror at Felicity before she nods, agreeing with a soft yes, and starts to collect her things. The items she had brought from work were still in their place.

Harry watched as she goes to speak, knowing that it was going to be a goodbye. He would surely see her in the morning, but he couldn't bare the idea of flying across the ocean, staring at her across the seat from himself, without any words left unspoken.

"Uh," He shifted a bit in the back of the car, Felicity could see that he was looking up towards the building that she called her own. "Do you actually mind if—uh, I really have to piss."

Her eyes widened a bit before she let her own lips widen into a smirk. "Oh— yeah, please."

It hadn't occurred to her until they were walking up the steps and into the building that she may have had some underwear on the floor and could potentially have a sink filled with dirty dishes— she couldn't quite remember.

But what she did know was that Harry was following in her steps as they climbed a few flights until they reached the third floor.

"Quite a workout, huh?" Harry puffed as they reached the front door to her specific apartment.

"Hm," She hummed, "Imagine having to move all of my furniture up here. I had to ask random men on the street to help me."

Felicity digs into her purse before she's able to find the keys to the front door.

"I don't want to be super nosy," He looked around the small vestibule that they were standing in while Felicity tried to find her keys—even though the purse she held was naturally quite small. "But is there any reason you live in a place that resembles a prison?"

Felicity chuckled out a laugh before she found the small keyring and tried to put it into the lock. Her hands were a bit unsteady—the wine was holding the buzz over her as she steadied her hands to unlock the small door.

"This is what livable looks like in New York," The door swung open; Felicity moved into the tiny apartment before placing her bag on the kitchen counter. "Maybe I need to have a discussion with my boss about a raise."

It wasn't the smallest apartment, but it was exactly what she needed. There was no storage space, but there was a separate room for each need—living room, kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom. She had a small working office in the corner by the balcony that she had been lucky enough to score from this specific unit.

Harry looked around the place, his eyes feasting on every detail. "That can probably be arranged if I can be certain that you won't get mugged getting into your front door."

He noticed how lived in it felt—the opposite of the cool, modern, high-end penthouse he would resort to later that evening. Everything was painted a different color of beige, keeping the lightness of the empty place very noticeable.

There were photos on the walls, painting and portraits, there were words that resembled some of her favorite music and books. It was colorful and there were plants that were seemingly a bit out of control.

"The bathroom is right there, by the way." Felicity pointed, before Harry turned towards the small room to his left.

"Thanks." He stated before he moved into it and shut the door behind him.

It was the same reaction he had to the living room and kitchen; his eyes narrowed in on the details of the shower curtain and the small bottles of serum that sat along her sink. The way that her toothbrush was bright pink, matching the towels that hung on the wall.

There were delicate parts of her that he was certain she wouldn't have told him about because she didn't think that it mattered. But in the long run, he liked the bits of color and the pieces of art that hung next to her sink.

It was a detail he hadn't really thought about of her before.

When he had come back, he stared at her position in front of the sink. Her sleeves were rolled up as she washed a few dishes that had been sitting there. Her heels has been removed, but the jacket and the short skirt still hung from her delicate frame as he watched the way that she focused on a task.

She noticed that he was looking at her now before she gave a small smile and felt that he wasn't in a hurry to leave.

"I would offer you something to drink—I mean, I would offer you anything, but I'm not really," She looked around the kitchen. "I have coffee and vodka. And not like," She scrunched her brows together as she looked in her fridge. "Not good vodka. You would look down on me if I served you this, kind of vodka."

Harry let his smile tilt up a bit as he meandered into the small space of the kitchen. If she was offering him anything—

"You really think I'm that much of a snob?" He smirked.

Felicity huffed a little bit as she turned her head towards him, "The wine we drank tonight was $600 a bottle."

He doesn't say anything for a moment before he tilts his head a bit and shrugs off the comment. He wonders if she thinks of him differently—not for being her boss, but for having a high taste. Possibly the earlier of the two, too.

"I grew up that way, I guess. It's hard to decipher what's normal." He tries to explain to her, which makes her look at him with a mockery of a face. Her eyes roll with a smile, and he gives her a look of disdain.

She goes to respond to him, but instead he moves his body practically over top of her back to grab the vodka that sits on the second shelf of the fridge. It's a bottle that cost Felicity about $12.75 just the other week, and it has a good amount still left in it. Harry holds the neck of it in his hands before he looks at it and sets it down on the counter.

"Lemons? Juice? Anything?" He asks; taking the liberty himself to look through one of the cabinets to try and find himself a glass. Felicity stays still for a moment before she's able to grasp the magnitude of the situation.

Her boss—Harry Styles, CEO, is standing in her kitchen and trying to make himself a cocktail with her $12.75 vodka that she had bought at the bodega just a few days prior. He's perusing through the cabinets—the few that she had—before he turns to her.

"Uh, I have a bar cart." She tells him solidly, before she moves her way into the living room where the car sat. Her head is feeling fuzzy, and she wonders if adding the vodka to it will make her completely lose all faith in herself. She has a feeling it will make her say something absolutely ridiculous, to him of all people.

Felicity grabs the shaker, two glasses, a lemon from one of the small bowls that she uses for décor but also for moments like this and makes her way to the kitchen where Harry has already taken the ice trays out. When he looks back up at her, he nods back to where she came from, her eyes following his gaze.

"Go sit on the couch, let me make you a drink." He tells her, "You had a long week."

"I'm going to be completely honest with you," She folds her hands together before he looks at her with a bit of a concerned look, "I don't know if I like the roles reversed like this."

He gives her a smug smile before he turns back to what he had been doing previously; now filling up the shaker with ice before he poured a few seconds worth of vodka into it.

"You think I'm a stuck-up prick," He tells her, "Let me show you that I'm not, will you?"

The statement that he left on his lips settled in the air between them; Felicity blew it away as she breathed outwards and just nodded in place. She suddenly became a bit meek before she made her way back to the sofa where she settled into the cloudy cushions, sitting with her legs underneath of her as she tried not to flash anything from her skirt. She heard Harry mixing the cocktails in the glass shaker, shortly before coming out with two glasses in his hands.

He hands over a glass that looks solemnly... clear. Maybe a bit too clear, but she felt satisfied to know that he was trying his best to make a spot in her world. She didn't have to climb to his level, he was trying to stay at hers.

"To..." He trailed off as he held his glass up to her. The small loveseat that they sat on felt incredibly intimate all the sudden.

"To... London?" Felicity stated, "To having to be up tomorrow at five, but continuing to drink even though we can get to London."

Harry laughed at her words before he clinked his glass against hers, "To London."

The way that his accent wrapped itself around certain words held her attention briefly before she was able to take a sip of the cocktail he prepared. Strong wasn't the word; overkill may have been more like it.

"Holy fuck," She coughed softly before she felt a sting in her eyes, "That's—please never go into bartending."

A subtle look of offense took over his face as he went to take a sip of his own before he widened his eyes at the flavor of it. "Oh, shit. Yeah, wow. That—that'll do some damage."

Felicity started to laugh at his own reaction before she sat the drink down on the coffee table and watched Harry do the same.

"So, to brief then," She stated, "I believe that it's still true that you're just a stuck-up snob who can't do anything on his own, including making a cocktail."

Harry stood up for a moment but took offense to her comment. He started to remove his jacket, which only intrigued her—it meant he was staying a while longer. "Hey, to my defense, your fridge is very, very sad. There was not much I could have done to make this better. If you're going to drink vodka, at least buy a decent brand."

Felicity tucked the hair behind her ear, "I'm here to make vodka Sprite's, okay? Not martinis," She leaned against the back of the sofa, "And there you go again with being the rich snob."

It was annoying to her that he had decided to roll up his sleeve, just enough on his forearm that she was able to see the tattoos that weren't seen very often. Seldom, really. In the office, she would notice that he would be focusing on something in his office, his sleeve rolled up a bit, but that was the extent of it.

It seemed there were many more up his arm than she had initially thought, but she knew that she would never see them all.

When he went to sit down, he went to move the throw pillow behind his arm, but as he did so, he noticed something black against the white couch cushion.

Immediately, his fingers flew to the item before he lifted the lace that held his attention quite mesmerizingly. Felicity gasped at the realization before she grabbed them from his hands, absolutely mortified didn't even cut it.

"I'm so embarrassed," She finally spoke, almost trying to blame the redness of her cheeks on the strong beverage he gave her. She knew that it was the inflammation of her dignity, not the vodka.

There wasn't a word spoken before she watched that his expression changed surprisingly. He took a long sip of the vodka drink before setting it back down.

But the smile that follows from the cocktail is all she needs to see before she can smile back.

"You continue to surprise me," His words were placed with a package of slurring vocab before he swallows back anything else he'd say out of pocket, "I'm going to be very honest that I didn't imagine you as— I mean, I never imagined you in lace."

"You say that like you imagined me in something else." The words that came from Felicity weren't her own—she didn't know why she said them, but his quick rebuttal shut her up completely.

"Silk, probably," He uses his finger to touch the rim of the rocks glass that he's holding, where the condensation made a drip over the dress pants that situation themselves over his thighs, so lucky. "Or—I mean, you could surprise me even more," He went quick after a moment.

Silence. Protruding silence that is viciously capturing them in this haze of only breath that either of them can hear. It's uninterrupted until Harry leans his head back and the creaking on the sofa fills Felicity's head, rather than the idea of what's to come.

She had felt it before; the warranted tension that Harry seemed to have over her. Maybe it was her fault for leaning into it, but sometimes, she just couldn't help it. The way that he found himself taken by her was just unspoken most of the time. She was surprised that he wouldn't have pulled anything at dinner, but she could fill in the blanks as she invited him up to her apartment.

It was inevitable, she thought.

She shouldn't have done that, but should not's were not what she was thinking about as she drowned herself in the alcoholic state of the sour vodka that wafted of lemon juice and baited words.

Instead, Felicity blinked a few times, watching as he stared at the ceiling. The blankness of the pure white ceiling seemed to keep him grounded before she watched his jaw tighten.

"You're full of surprises, a lot of mystery, you know?" Harry breathed out. The tie around his neck was getting tight, but he couldn't loosen it now—if he was being honest, it was adding to the pleasure of the moment. He wouldn't speak that out, but while the tightness caused a bit of discomfort, he thought of it in other instances. "I'm not sure I can keep up with it."

There was an unresolved tension in the words he spoke, maybe even a bit of slur in them before Felicity followed suit; her head resting practically next to his as she stared at the blank white ceiling that had very little to memorize or stare at.

"What fun is a mystery if it's solved?"

He wasn't sure if she saw—he wasn't sure if she saw the way that his eyes fluttered at the thought of uncovering every instance of mystery that she kept hidden away, in this small apartment. The air was starting to become lost on them, feeling like the oxygen was being pulled as he breathed. The shakiness of his breath was caught by her when she turned her head—she wished that she hadn't.

All she could process was the way that his eyes stared upwards, lips parted in an unsure manner before she watched his eyebrows knit in a deep thought that she couldn't seem to interpret. But this pique of interest held her as she kept her eyes on him—he could feel every deep breath that she tried to mask.

"I don't know if you knew this about me," He quietly stated, "But I really can't handle the unknown."

It was then that his head turned towards her; the distance between them was much shorter than he could have thought. He didn't notice until his eyes directly moved towards the way that her lips curved in the small bow, the one that he had known so well from the number of times that he couldn't keep his eyes from her. But this was different; this held much more tension that he couldn't believe.

This time he could smell the liquor that lingered on her lips that mixed so well with the cherry of the chapstick that he knew she applied generously. He would watch the way that it slid over the lips as he sat at his desk and wondered what was on her mind.

"You're very good at getting what you want," Felicity breathed, watching as he shut his eyes for a moment. It was as if with every word she spoke, he was closer and closer to the edge of something great.

Her eyes traveled to the way that his legs sat just open—they were just waiting for someone to notice. Felicity swallowed at the idea of sitting between them, on her knees. Sitting there with her eyes laying on him; he took notice of her tense shoulders and her harbored through before he sat up just a bit. He scooted himself back on the sofa—Felicity blinked at the way that he invited her with just the flicker of his eyes.

No words needed to be spoken when the look could speak for itself, but the way that he speaks breaks the barrier of silence.

"How good am I at getting what I want?"

The heavy eyes that she held were only staring at his lips and the way that he spoke—the flicker of his tongue over the satin maroon of his lips. She couldn't contain herself, because she knew that his aura was a force to be reckoned with. She had seen it up close and personal; she knew that everything that he did was because he was in it one hundred percent.

He didn't half-ass anything—not a report, not a phone call, not a meeting, not a thought.

Everything Harry did was with the full intensive purpose of being the only thing on someone's mind, body, and soul.

Felicity trembled in the spot next to him, but her legs urged to move themselves. Her brain wasn't moving as fast as her decisions; and in an instant, her knees lowered to the spot in front of him. Her hands settling on the thick of his thigh as she allowed her eyes to hold his. For a moment, hesitation crossed his face, but she could have mistaken it for vulnerability.

The way that he breathed outwards was enough to make her gain the strength of a thousand horses—the talk that he talked wasn't as strong now, she felt a sensibility of pure radiance from her actions.

"I'd say you're the best at it, really." She let her hands settle on his thighs, but she took them away so she could drop the blazer down her arms. The tight white t-shirt settled against her frame as he watched the way that she pushed her brunette locks from her shoulders.

But his being felt incredibly taken by the way that she slowly moved—she wanted to savor every moment of this, he could tell that she was being critical, slow, and putting together each piece of herself in front of him.

That's what he thought at least, until he recognized that there was a tremble in her hand when she went to grab at the belt buckle, he barred. His hand flew to hers when she touched it; almost annoyed at himself by the look of terror that he was faced with as he knew that she had felt pushed away at that.

Instead, he pulled at her to stand up in front of him, between his legs. She did so with ease but a bit of confusion laid on her face as she stood with her hands by her side, Harry's eyes dancing along the figure—the divots in her thighs, the way the skirt just held to her so beautifully.

He let out a whimpering sound before he let his hand fall to the tightness of the front of his pants. Instantly, the pleasure trigger was pulled, and he knew what he had gotten himself into now had to be completed. It had to—he never did anything half-assed.

"Go put your heels on," He instructed her, watching as she stared at him willingly.

"A please would be nice." She tutted back, letting her lip fall into the curve of a smile.

Instantly, she knew that this wasn't a game anymore—this wasn't a fun, hushed little game of pleasure with nobody watching. She knew that the way that his eyes changed at the blink of an eye, the way that his jaw tightened at the statement: and the clear smirk on her lips faded.

"I'm not asking you," He sat up a bit, "I'm telling you."

Felicity had been used to being spoken as such; her memory fading into a moment, but her barriers kept up as she understood that her body was reacting only to the way that the words flowed from his mouth. She knew there was safety in his tone, she could see it by the way that he had stared at her with these stolen glances all night.

Instead, she followed his direction, moving back towards the door until she placed the black heels onto her feet again. They hurt just a bit from wearing them all day, she had to admit. But they made her stand taller, firmer against the fake wood flooring of her apartment. She wondered why the downstairs neighbors would think, as it became later at night.

"Come here," He told her, holding her wrist when she got close enough. He pulled her back to the place in front of him. She stood taller now, his nose practically at her bellybutton as she watched the way that he pulled her close.

Now, his hands lay on the outside of her hips, the sides of her thighs. She shuddered at the feeling, knowing that this was the first time she had been touched by him in such a manner. The musky scent of teakwood and spice drifted from the curls that settled against his forehead, she was sure of it. She could feel the heat of his breath just above where she needed him most as she stood close to him, right between his legs as he sat on the sofa.

"Do you know how many times I've thought of you like this?" He practically choked on his words, quiet, "So fucking beautiful."

She breathed out a shaky breath, holding onto every ounce of madness that she had collected over the past few moments.

"How many?" She asked him. Harry stood up, letting her take a step back as she felt the prominence of him now-- how he was a bit taller, even with her heels on. Every part of her ached—so unfamiliar to her, this feeling of need and want. It was a sensation of desperation that she hadn't known before; her inner monologue was flooded with dangerous prose as she felt his fingers cradled onto her jaw.

"More times than I'd ever be able to count." He told her, his voice deep and sharp as he pushed his hips forward. She walked backward a few steps, he followed in her lead like a waltz before he pushed her pelvis into the wall, holding it there with his own.

"You're going to be my good girl tonight, aren't you, Felicity?" His words were practically a whimper as he let his lips slide along her own; the tremble of her quivering lips made him shake in his own anticipation. "You love to listen, hm? That's why you're always taking my orders and assisting me? Getting paid to do what I say?"

It was always obvious by the pink of her cheeks and the timid ways of her soul that Harry could see right through her. From the moment she arrived on the job to the way that she completed everything task with ease; every job, every plan he needed executed, she followed in righteous order.

It made him proud, to say the least. She ran the company better than he did most days, but she didn't get half the recognition.

Until now, surely.

Her eyes nearly roll back into her head at the foul play of his words; the way that his eyes follow down the path of her lips, his thumb mapping the path down her chin before he grabbed it between his thumb and index finger.

The villainous smirk on his lips can't be seen by how close they are now.

"Does saying 'Yes, Mr. Styles' make you wet, Miss Carter?"

The question rolled off his tongue as he watched her minuscule behaviors; the way that she practically shivered against the wall made his eyes move to the way that her knees bent in just a bit.

His mouth turned up to the side as he realized that his was right yet again.

Felicity groaned in the back of her throat as she let it tip against the wall. He was practically on top of her by the way that he stood, his knee was pushing her knees apart before she was able to protest any of it. Not that she would've; she knew that it was about to turn into an evening that she couldn't have truly imagined if you had asked her just hours before.

"You're getting shy on me, again?" He remarked, but this time, it was paired with some loose kisses along her neck as he used his hand to cradle her jaw enough that she was pressing into it with ease. "What happened to that smart mouth, hm?"

Felicity ached as she breathed—her body pressured against the wall was her own doing, practically to keep herself from overwhelming herself. If she leaned into him too much, she wouldn't be able to breathe at all.

"Yes, Mr. Styles." She bit her lip at the words coming off her tongue.

She could feel that the instant gratification that came from him was filtered through the stare that he barred towards her; the way that his nose brushed against the lobe of her ear as he practically fell into her graces with three simple words.

Harry groaned at the feeling of her pressed against him then; her brain sparked a few times, trying to remember how it felt before this. How reality felt. This wasn't reality in the slightest; this was a dream.

"Tell me," He urges her, "What was his name?"

She lets her eyes wash over his face as she notices that his strength and need have put him into a trance of pleasure and further need.

"Who?" She questions.

"The guy," He lets his lip gently caress right between her chin and lip. "The guy you were supposed to see tonight."

Felicity remembered how the evening was supposed to go—her interest completely lost in that game, when this one seemed a bit more daring and fun. It felt that she was seen here; like she had been stared at for quite some time, ogled, maybe.

"Uh, S-Sam." She choked out as she felt the way that his hand pinched at the small of her waist, almost like he was trying to make sure she didn't leave.

He hummed softly before he tipped her head back, the simple press of his nose moving her head against the wall. "Fucking loser."

Her mouth instantly felt his—a righteous moment of complete satisfaction bundled beneath her. It was the first time that his lips had laid into hers, moving gently against one another as they fit perfectly in sync. It wasn't too rough—just enough to know that she was in the hands of someone who knew what she was asking just by the way that his body moved. He could read her body and react to the fact that her chest may have been pressed against the wall a bit too much, so he pulled back to give her room to breathe.

The way that they flew through her bedroom door was just as shocking to her as it was to him; it made a much larger noise than she anticipated as they practically flew over the threshold and into the creamy white sheets of her—thankfully—made bed.

He landed on top of her in the heat of the moment. Their lips stayed attached through it all, almost like they were making up for all the lost time over the years. His tongue gently caressed over her top lip, which elicited quite a whine of surprise from her.

Her hands flew to his necktie, trying to loosen it before Harry grabbed her wrist—hard enough that she barked out a whimper.

"No," He told her sharply, watching as she hesitated underneath him. Now her hair was feathered out against the bedspread, her light eyes were catching every glimpse of her. After a moment, he looked at her softly, knowing that she didn't understand the game that he was about to play.

"We are going to play by my rules tonight," He told her, watching as she pushed herself up towards the headboard. He followed her lead, letting her hands rest on the back of his head as she tried to kiss every inch down her neck. "And I have a few notes you need to take, got it?"

Felicity tried her best to stabilize her breath as she was given a moment away from their lips touching to catch it. She licked over her lips, feeling her heart pounding along her chest before she nodded against the bed and the linen comforter that laid underneath them.

Harry sat up, his hair a bit of a mess, the clothes on his body were practically ripped from the front where they had been neatly tucked. The growing need for her was obvious as he felt the tip of his cock struggling beneath the waistband of his belt. The friction made it quite hard to concentrate on what his plans had been, but he knew that he had to be firm with his requests.

"First," He instructed, "The safe word is poetry."

Felicity's eyes stared at him with quiet focus as she nodded a few times to try and understand that. She hadn't ever been with someone who needed to use a safe word in any sexual act, so she struggled to wrap her brain around what that could have possibly meant. But her actions continued to nod as she wrapped her arms around his biceps to try to bring him back to earth. The idea that he had to bring it up intrigued her.

"Second," He pulled at the necktie around his own before he loosened it enough to grab and throw off of his own neck. His hands moved to place it around her own, helping to move the hair from her neck so that it could rest comfortably around her own. "I like to use props. Are you okay with that?"

Felicity felt her heart beating steadily in her chest for a few seconds before she nodded her head. He watched the innocence completely take over her face as he smirked at the all-knowing tale of it.

"Third," He bit on his lip as he moved down to let their foreheads rest along each other, "I need to hear you—no nodding or shaking your head. Consent makes me feel good. And when I feel good," He kissed her once again, a quick one this time, before his voice quieted so that it was just between them. "You'll feel even better. Okay?"

Felicity breathed in a deep breath before she tried to use the voice that had been drifting away from her. She didn't feel in her body like an echo of a voice had started to take over instead of her words. But she let out a rasp of a word, "Okay."

Harry nodded a few times, knowing that with her eyes, he would be able to continue, but only if he was able to talk her through every part of it. He didn't know her experience level or what she was comfortable with, but he knew how to make pleasure the only thing that would be on her mind for weeks. Hopefully, it wouldn't be the last time he got the opportunity.

"This is—uh," She looked at the ceiling, feeling like an idiot for starting to speak before she shook her head, and watched Harry give her a look of confusion. "No, sorry. Nevermind."

"What is it?" He questioned, hoping that something he had said hadn't scared her away. She took in a breath as she thought about how the wording could anger him—maybe it would stop whatever was happening, which she didn't want to happen now that they were in the midst of it all.

"I—uh, I mean, like, are you okay with this?" She asked quietly before pushing up on her elbows. "I—do I have like, sign something?"

Harry raised in brows in a bit of a humorous way that only made her cheeks grow red with shame at her silly question—in all honesty, it wasn't silly, but Harry was giving her a hard time about it, anyway. He bit on his lip as he felt the smile that was threatening to overcome his entire face.

"Am I supposed to be worried that you're going to tell the Daily Mail that I have a huge cock?"

"Harry!" She covered her eyes, floating back onto the comforter, "Nevermind—maybe I'll tell them it's small, though, if you don't stop being mean. I'm just trying to protect you."

"Aw," He tutted, putting his thumb over her bottom lip, but his eyes had grown a bit darker—the way that they had been a bit earlier. It was almost an illicit reaction; the way that he spoke to her, was so filthy with each word spoken that made her melt into the bed. "Dare you to say that to my face when you're choking on it," He pressed his hips into hers then, knowing that she would react to it. Hers moved upwards into him, just as he had intended, "I'm not worried about an NDA in the slightest bit."

In a teasing manner, she scrunched her nose and playfully spat back, "What if I tried to steal all of your money?"

He pressed his hands next to her head on the bed, letting her eyes look directly into his as he spoke, hoping his voice didn't falter: "You can have it all. Take it."

Something about it should have made Felicity giggle—almost like they were joking around. But there was a way that his sincerity felt more like a proposition than a source to cut the tension of their achingly needing bodies against one another.

Her body seemed to enjoy the way that he stated the smooth words, as she let her hands fall into the brunette curls that settled on the back of his neck. It didn't take long for her to pull him closer, letting her lips graze over him in such a frustrating manner. She was completely built up, her could feel the way that her thighs trembled against him.

Pushing her legs open, Harry pushed the hem of her skirt up her hips so that he could find a home between them. In doing so, flashing the baby pink of her lace panties only let his blood flow faster and faster.

"I bet you've soaked those, hm?" He tuts, pressing his nose into her cheek ask he lets his hand knowingly move to the place he speaks of, knowing that he's right. Again. "Sam doesn't know what he's missing, does he?"

The teasing was becoming a bit too much for her—waiting for his fingers to move faster, she moved her hips a bit to try and get herself the pleasure she was trying to search so desperately for from him.

Harry notices the way that she tries to squirm, and he smirks at the reaction he's giving her; knowing that within every inch of her is building up a tension that will release. It will be like a dam that overflows—a satisfaction that will be so worthy of the cost of admission. He can't help but notice, can't help but watch her need.

He can't help but know that he's going to fuck her into an oblivion so dark, the stars will be lost in space. She doesn't know that yet.

Instead of being mean, he decides it might be better for him to give her what she needs—what she's been so kindly asking him for with her pretty hips and her pretty lips.

"On your knees," He tells her, watching as she moves underneath him. She wiggles around until she's on her stomach; the necktie gets him harder as he watches it dangle from her neck like the apple in Eden. Every part of him wants to take the bite—not yet, oh, not yet.

When she does this, her back arches upwards, and Harry's knees settle on the bed as he hovers above her and watches the way that she submits to him. Every word he says she listens—he can barely handle it anymore.

In an instant, his hands reached the bottom of her skirt, pushing it up to fully show the outline of her ass in the cheeky pink lace. It's always been known to him that she would wear something so pitifully scandalous under those black skirts, but he couldn't have imagined it would be like this.

Her pretty face has been folded into the creamy duvet, waiting for the touch of him to send her into an implosion.

All he wanted was to taste her—to make all of the thoughts he had prior feel like they were significant and they were able to be adhered to. He wanted to make her feel like she was the most special person on the planet; like she could feel every inch of him, and she would be thriving in that thought for the end of time.

This may be a one-time occurrence, and he wanted to marvel in it. He wanted her to enjoy what she didn't know could be.

Harry's hands pulled at the pink lace, wondering how lucky he was to be able to enjoy this sight—and what a sight. The wetness of her folds only made him salivate; made his hungry eye a darker shade of green before he dove his tongue directly into her, licking up the mess he had already made of her.

The soft whimpers turned into moans as she practically lurched forward—the initiation hardly bearable as she scrunched her eyes at the feeling of pleasure. The warmth and invite of his tongue pressed against her, lapping her up and into a pitiful puddle. When she felt the nudge of his finger, she gasped at the feeling of him; the duo of his tongue and finger sang together in harmony like a choir of angels.

"Oh, fuck," She quietly moaned out, holding herself on her elbows as she grabbed at her pillow for a bit of leverage. She felt him hum into her, his nose gently brushing against her as he pushed her ass up to get further towards her clit which hungered for his touch, as did his tongue.

The taste of her replenished him, making his heartbeat faster as he felt the stringent feeling of tightness along the dress pants that held him in. Without letting his tongue go without, he used his hand to swiftly throw the belt from the loops of his pants, unbuttoning them quickly and without another thought.

"Fuck, you taste like I thought you would. So fucking sweet." He stated, pushing her ass out of the way when he pulled back. He threw her down onto the bed so that she would be looking up at him. The girl was fully dressed still, just with her skirt pushed up—underwear a bit haphazardly thrown to the side. The rose-colored cheeks threw him as he used his hands to pull the skirt down her thighs.

"Get naked." He ordered, watching as Felicity's hands moved to throw the t-shirt from her body as he requested, leaving her in her panties and bra. Harry threw the white button-down of his from his chest; Felicity got a bit distracted by the way that the tattoos generously scattered over his body. She swallowed back her intimidation as she held herself up on her elbows.

In a swift motion, her panties and bra were thrown onto the ground, leaving her in just the necktie like Harry had ordered for her. She hadn't even quite noticed that he had been rid of his own clothes, her eyes wandering down but not wanting to stare as she noticed that the smirk on his face was ever present.

"Think it's still small?" He asked, with a chuckle as he pulled at her knees, moving her down towards him.

"Maybe smaller than I'm used to." She played back, biting her lip at the intrigue of how he'd react. His arms grabbed at her waist before he threw himself down onto the bed.

"Ride me, then. If you think you can take it as good as you say." His words spit out before Felicity could think too much. It had been a while she had been in this situation, with a guy in her place, at least. Her hand reached over to the nightstand to grab a condom, Harry nodding in appreciation for the gesture.

Her hunger and desire for this became a bit more active as she was now in the driver's seat, moving and manipulating her body to sit across his lap. If she would lie, she would say that it was smaller than average. But unfortunately, she was taught to always tell the truth.

It was much bigger—especially as he rubbed his hand down himself, a gasp of air baiting out of his lips before he looked up at her in a state that could only resemble pleasure.

Harry rolled the condom down his length, watching as she settled into his lap. Her legs settle on either side of him before he looks up at her. The blazing fuzziness of his mind from the liquor has started to cease and is replaced with a hunger of desire for the brunette instead.

"Pretty, pretty." He tells her, watching as she looks antsy enough to move, but he pulls her down to kiss her, anyways. It's a moment that he knows he's taking away from her, but he needs some form of interaction from her. A small detail of need that overcomes him.

His hands steady her hips above him, holding his cock up to her entrance before he watches her hips move down to encapsulate him all—her movements are slow as she throws her head back in an unsurmountable pleasure that she quite practically leans forward against him to catch herself from falling.

"Fuck," He grunts, shutting his eyes just at the way that the blood moves directly to his cock at the feeling of her wetness. She's completely drenched and open and ready which makes her so sensitive and barely capable of words at this point.

Her hands steady herself, holding onto his chest as he allows her to take the lead on what she needs. But he can tell from the look on her face that she's having quite a hard time collecting herself—almost like she's quite unsure of what to do with the power that he's given her to be on top. It's not him pitying her, but him wanting her to enjoy the experience.

So, maybe, in another life, this can happen again.

"Baby," He choked out, shaking his head at the way that he knew it was the wrong choice of words, "Felicity—let me," He grabbed the small of her waist as he sat up quickly. His arms pivoted them so that he could throw them back around on the bed. It wasn't to take anything away from her, but to give to her more than she was giving to herself.

"Let me do this, yeah?" He joked with her, letting his lips kiss along hers, biting and nipping and finding small ways of showing her that the softness of him was still there even in the darkened eyes and furious gasps.

His body readjusted, his hips pushing into her in a more fluid motion. This got her to gasp, a breathy one that he liked hearing—those were the ones that were out of pure pleasure and satisfaction; ones that he felt drunk on.

In a way, this felt a lot different than before. The overhead light of her bedroom was soft; there was a significant dimness to it. He wasn't sure if it was because the room was small, but it felt like there was a intimacy that he had been missing before. His eyes tilted upwards to the paintings and lines of movie quotes that lined along her bedroom wall. There were framed simply and held color and brightness to the space, which distracted him for only a moment before he was able to lay against her.

The necktie around her took his focus back.

"I'm going to play with you a bit, is that alright?" He asked her softly, biting at his lip before he found himself pressing into her hips. His hands grabbed at the necktie before letting them start to tighten it around her neck. " 'Member you words, hm?"

Felicity whimpered out at the coax; nodding her head, "Please—please."

Harry sat up at the request, happy that she was using her words in this sense. He readied himself; thinking of what he needed to think about to try to get himself to a different place. He didn't want to cum too quickly; his cock was barely holding on as it was. The friction of her sweet wetness was enough to make him fold again and again and again.

His fist moved to grip at the knot of the tie, pushing it upwards until it hit at her chin. She raised her head, almost to give way to the pressure that it held against her. She was only briefly capable of speaking a few words, but she was taken with pleasure at the way that her breathing was manipulated.

"Breath play," Harry practically reads her mind as his hip's diver deeper into her. The feeling of her legs at his ribs, practically around his body as he feels the back of her ankle into his back. "Your words, baby."

Felicity took a deep breath; Harry moved his hand so that she could take it in more. He wanted her to feel the wooziness, the daydream-like feeling of the high that it could bring her. He wanted this moment to be special, for her to remember that she was in the most requitting love affair. That she was taken care of, adored, seen.

At the end of the day, Harry wanted to make sure that her jaw was cradled, her lips were kissed, her eyes were stared into, and her breath was taken away.

His hips snapped further, her moan sounded like a small mew before he sat up a bit straighter, loosening his hand on the tie before he grabbed at both of her hips. His hand moved to maneuver over her clit, thumb drawing a star over top of it to which she squirmed in sensitivity. He smirked at the way that she held softly against him before he let a dribble of spit land directly on her, smearing the wetness to coat her.

"Jesus fucking Christ." He stated, the blown-out pupils of them both had them reeling—he noticed he had really neglected parts of her that he had wanted to remember, but he also knew that there was a significant need that they were both needing to fill. He knew that this was just inevitable fucking from weeks—months, really—of built-up tension that they both needed to get out of their system.

"I—I want more," She nodded, her voice quiet and barely above a mumble before their eyes made contact.

He felt that she was a bit, for lack of a better word, fucked. Her eyes were a bit droopy, she may have been trying to cover up how much she really drank, but her effervescent neediness was going to haunt him forever.

"I can give you more," He nodded, "I can give you so much fucking more." His hips snapped forward, again and again and again—her headboard hitting the wall every time he did so. Their breath heavy and their eyes connected as he did so.

"Such a pretty little fuck," He lifted her leg up from around his waist before he gave her knee a gentle kiss. "I'm so hard, fuck."

The fully natured nudity of their bodies was new for him—it was usually very quick, especially when they would come to his. But this was significantly more intimate; he wanted to spend this time with her. He liked that they decided to do it this way.

She could feel the tightening of the rubber band that was about to snap. It had been building with every swipe of his thumb, the way that his tongue had gently nudged at her clit; the way he had plunged forward with every deep thrust. She was impressed with the way that he moved her body to be able to hit at her spot every single time. He had studied her, watched what she did—how she reacted.

"I'm—fuck," He pulled himself forward, letting his head drop as he fell into her touch. This was new; her hands on his shoulders, the way that they moved into his hair and down his neck. "Poetry, okay?" He reminded her softly before he kissed her lips.

What happened after that could have been a blur—to Felicity, she wasn't entirely sure if she could remember it all. His hand gripped around the tie of her neck, pulling softly so she felt a dizzy sensation.

"Fuck—fuck, Harry, I'm cumming—fuck." Her teeth bit so sharply on her lip that she was afraid it might rupture the skin; the taste of blood would come soon afterwards, but her reality was set in the pleasure kingdom that Harry's hips created for her.

It was dizzying how he snapped his hips upwards, hitting her every single time. The pressure of his thumb over her clit sent her into an overdrive; letting her walls completely break, the dam overflowed, flooding. The orgasm over taking her sent him into a state of pure shock and adrenaline, snapping his hips a few more times before he felt the absolute relief.

Her eyes shut; Harry lurched forward as he fell into the grip of her hands. It was a feeling of falling that he genuinely believed were cloud-like.

For a moment, he wondered if they would ever slow their breathing down. He wondered if the sound of her heart beating against his was real-life or just a fantasy. It may have been an orgasmic-induced dream.

The puzzle piece form of the two of them let him settle nicely into her; his nose poked at the skin of her neck, which he may or may not have left a mark or two on.

In the solemness of the air, his breathing finally evened out.

___________

"Are we cleared for take-off, Mr. Styles?"

The noise jolts him a bit, he wouldn't lie.

Harry clears his throat as he opens his eyes which have been hidden by the sunglasses that have settled on his face. He readjusts in the seat before he looks around the small jet plane that had been chartered for their adventure.

It was early, approaching on seven in the morning. His sleep had been nonexistent until that small nap that he had gotten himself before being woken up by the pilot.

"Uh," He swallows, trying to make it seem that he was more awake than he was.

"I believe that we're all here." Laura states to the pilot before she gives him a tight smile. She returns to looking at her cellphone, lowering her hands into her lap as she continues to scroll through what's possibly an email.

Harry looks around the small jet, watching, searching... wondering.

He blinks a few times to try to imagine if there's a reality where what had occurred last night was working against him—he had hoped that she hadn't been scared off, that she hadn't run away at the idea of what this weekend could possibly hold.

Not that it was going to happen all the time, certainly not. But he wondered if there could be a next time—he wondered if she would have liked that. It turns out, with the no show to the work trip that she had been informed on that—

"I'm sorry."

The sweet tone of the voice carries through the plane before he turns his body in the single chair to look at where it had been coming from. Coming up the steps, being greeted by the stewardess, a smiling face that had her sunglasses pushed into her hair—a pair of black yoga pants and a t-shirt with a cardigan sweater overtop.

He watches as she takes her bag, feeling uncomfortable by the stewardess taking it from her before she gives her a tight smile and settles into walking towards the back. The plane isn't large, but it feels incredible big when he is waiting for her to approach him.

Their eyes meet and she gives him a tight smile before greeting the others on the plane. The seat directly in front of Harry isn't taken. Go figure. Her hands are full—holding her purse, a bag that most likely has something to eat for a breakfast, a coffee, and—

"Your dry-cleaning," Felicity handed the back to him before she took her seat that sat directly across from him in the small private jet that had seemingly felt much smaller as she took in how close he was to her now, "Mr. Styles."

The flicker of her eyes to his—the way that her hair had been blown dry, bouncing with curls, the freshness of her toned-down makeup to allow the texture of her skin to show with the subtlety of the glow.

Even in the early morning hours, even though he had just left her a few hours prior, even though they had both had less than a few good hours of sleep—she still looked like she was greeting him at heaven's pearly gates.

When the bag was unzipped to check that everything had been added, his eyes fell along the purple necktie that he had unnervingly left at the edge of her bed the night prior; he must had run out of the door of her apartment without it. His eyes glanced at the way that the small item drifted over the white button-down.

It was familiar, of course, because it had been the one that he was wearing yesterday when he had entered her apartment but left without it in his hands or around his neck. He cleared his throat at the sight, knowing that it was a nod to him and only him. When he sat them down across his lap, his eyes landed on her again—the casualty of her smirk was harrowing now.

"Mr. Styles, are we waiting on anyone else?" The pilot had come back towards the rows now, to ensure that everything would have been cleared for the take-off. Harry looked back at him, and shook his head without another doubt, but a solidly aching feeling in his chest as he barred the words back at him.

"No, I—I'm not waiting for anyone else, at least." He looked up at the girl in front of him, "I'm good."

The pilot got the plane ready for departure; Felicity stared at the window as she tried to take in the experience, knowing that the exhaustion that was starting to overcome her would be able to be given a final rest when she leaned against the window.

But, for the time being, she liked being able to rest in the light of Harry's stare as he couldn't take his eyes from her.

The plane, the job, the clothes, the dinner—none of it mattered when the view in front of him was something that money would never be able to buy.

____________________

hiiiii!!

happy tortured poets department day, here's a one-shot <3

just a little fun one hehe, almost 20k words is so much for me, so thank you for reading this!

love u as always

- emily

[skamenglishsubs]

Subtext and Culture, Young Royals, Season 3, Episode 2

Episode 2 starts days or maybe a week after episode 1. The curfews and phone ban is in place, so Wilhelm and Simon make the most of their one hour of phone sex talking.

Blink and you miss it: Wilhelm snapped a quick instant picture of himself and Simon at the palace in the last episode, using the camera we saw on his desk. The heart is still on his hand, so maybe it's the next day, or maybe he's been filling it in every day.

Cinematography: Intense red light typically symbolizes their mutual love, and this scene is overflowing with it.

Lost in translation: They both finish the phone call with "puss", which means kiss, but not exactly. It's more platonic, something you can say and do with your parents, or your kids, or end phone calls with. The other word for kiss, "kyss", is more romantic/sexual, and would be super weird to end a phone call with. Simon is using that word when he says he would kiss Wilhelm's collar bone birth mark.

Subtext: Of course Vincent doesn't believe anyone was bullied. He's the biggest bully, but what he does is just a joke, or the other guy deserved it. This is gonna be a recurring theme™ in this episode, how various characters look back on and remember, or choose not to remember, what happened to them.

Subtext: If you didn't pick up this meaningful glance, you're blind. The initiation porno was totally real, and Nils and August clearly remember it, and weren't as flippant about it as Vincent.

Culture: In Sweden, inner city schools are typically better and have richer students than the poorer schools out in the suburbs. This is the exact opposite of the typical US school demographical pattern.

Subtext: Wilhelm avoids Farima's question by evading it. Note that it does make sense that she doesn't know what's going on at these schools since she's an employee, she's not upper-class herself. Wilhelm's parents know though since they attended Hillerska, but they would of course never admit it either.

Culture: Ironically, this is exactly how the real-world Danish royal family handled the Herlufsholm scandal in 2022 involving prince Christian. Only when the media storm in Denmark got too intense did they pull him out of the school, while furiously denying knowledge of the abuse or that he was involved in any way.

Cinematography: We're in the cursed music room, but the light is soft and golden, and the scene is just cute. No fight this time.

Subtext: We're touching the theme™ again, but from Simon's perspective. He has the same outsider perspective we have; speaking up about abuse is always good, and if the school's closing because of it, that's an obviously good thing. There's plenty of scenes in this episode showing that most Hillerska students don't share this perspective, they really love their school, as fucked up as it is.

Subtext: Although it sounds like a rehearsed PR line and Felice is thinking about her girl group here, it's gonna come true for her and Sara.

Subtext: Yuck. No further comment.

Cinematography: The immediate cut to Felice getting her aggressions out in gym class shows us exactly what she thought of what the principal said and how much it pissed her off.

Blink and you miss it: Simon audibly sniffs Wilhelm's hair.

Blink and you miss it: Micke made dinner for both of them, but in her depression, Sara ignores the cooked food (Pyttipanna, btw), and makes herself a cucumber sandwich instead.

Subtext: Micke is a man on a mission, and he is constantly steering the conversation towards helping Sara get her driver's license. For him, it's a way to make up for having been a shitty parent.

Culture: Sweden has long been a holdout of stick-shift cars, and if you don't do your practical test in a stick-shift, you'll get a restricted license, so it's not out of the ordinary for Micke to be teaching Sara how to drive one. However, automatics have seen a sharp rise in the last decade, and in 2024 automatics will finally overtake them.

Culture: The green ÖVNINGSKÖRNING sign is compulsory in Sweden if a car is being driven by someone on a learner's permit, with a parent or friend as the instructor. There's also a red version of the sign, which indicates it's a student driver with a professional instructor in a dual control car.

Cinematography: The room is filled to the brim with things to do, there's a bazillion board games, they have books, magazines, fidget thingies, they're drowning in stuff, and yet the girls are still soooooo boooored just because they don't have their phones. Except Madison, who is knitting.

Subtext: Here comes the theme™ again, and Fredrika is firmly in camp denial. Everyone else is just lying and exaggerating! The wheels are starting to turn in Felice's head though.

Subtext: Nils and August are finally talking about the initiation without Vincent being present, and they can finally be honest about what they actually thought about it. It happened, they didn't like.

Subtext: Their idea of fixing it however is not to go out publicly and talk about it, but to just quietly stop the tradition, hoping they'll be the last ones. (Since there are no second-year students in the show, we have no idea what happened to them, so we're just gonna ignore that.)

Subtext: And here comes the reason that August wanted to put a stop to it. He was completely humiliated by it, and he doesn't want anyone else to know that he was humiliated, because that just makes it worse. This is also the reason that traditions like this keep on going, no-one wants to blow the whistle on it, because everyone was abused, everyone was a victim, it's hard for abuse victims to speak up.

Cinematography: The talk with Nils triggered an anxiety attack for August, and being inside his small room doesn't exactly help. Him going so close to the camera that he almost bumps into it really shows how he feels like the walls are closing in on him.

Culture: This, kids, is a standard Swedish landline telephone jack. For the longest time I thought phone jacks looked like this everywhere, but it turns out that this particular design was only used in Sweden and Iceland(!?!). You won't find these in newer buildings because landlines are pretty much dying out, and if there are phone jacks they'll probably be using the much more common RJ-11 standard.

Culture: This, kids, is an Ericsson Diavox phone. The former government phone monopoly in Sweden, Televerket, only allowed certified and approved phones to be used on the network, and they only approved a very small set of phones, so everyone had pretty much the same phones in their homes. However, in the 1980's the market started getting flooded with "illegal" phones from other countries, so the monopoly simply stopped enforcing the rule, and you could finally, finally, plug in that novelty Garfield phone that you always wanted.

Blink and you miss it: Sara is studying for her driving test, and she's reading about driving in the dark.

Subtext: We're gearing up for the main plotline of the season, dropping more hints that maybe Wilhelm's image of Erik wasn't complete, and what August says sows some seeds of doubt in him.

Subtext: This song is objectively not very good, please don't kill me, but it is very sixteen-year-old-boy-just-singing-from-his-heart, not thinking about the text.

Subtext: Simon isn't wearing anything purple, but just after he posts his song video, he picks up a purple shirt, drops it immediately, and then the camera lingers on it. Colour theory goes brrrrrrrr. He thought about Wilhelm, and then stopped because his music is more important to him or something?

Subtext: Unlike Simon, Wilhelm immediately understands how problematic the text is for him, and how people will interpret it...

Subtext: ...but since he doesn't want to hurt Simon's feelings, he lies about why he thinks the song was a very, very bad idea. And he cushions it by telling Simon that he thinks the song is jätte-jätte-bra. Giant-giant-good.

Subtext: Yes, but also no, and someone from the court really should have given Simon some media training and explained to him why he has to be very careful about what he posts. But it's drama fuel, which is why this disaster is allowed to happen.

Subtext: A nice little throwback to season 1, this is exactly what Erik told Wilhelm in the first episode, about making sure that their public image is carefully curated.

Subtext: That's some on-the-nose foreshadowing there, since Felice is one of the main causes for the school ultimately closing.

Subtext: We're back to the theme™, Fredrika is saying pretty much the same thing as Vincent. It didn't happen, and if it did, it wasn't that bad.

Subtext: However, Felice isn't playing along this time, she's starting to speak up about the issues, and the result is a long, awkward silence, because her friends are not willing to do the same.

Subtext: Wilhelm and the rest of the rich kids are of course all wearing pretty expensive high-end hiking gear, in contrast with Simon who is simply wearing one of his usual hoodies and his usual winter jacket that we've seen before. That's a damn fine jacket from Fjällräven, btw, the same company that makes the weirdly globally popular Kånken backpacks.

Blink and you miss it: Henry is getting dragged for his actually quite reasonable objection to the tent groupings.

Subtext: Felice physically distances herself from her friends, and joins Simon and Wilhelm, in a nice little foreshadowing of the show's ending.

Blink and you miss it: Did you miss the line in last episode where Ayub said they were also gonna go camping at Talludden with their classmates from Marieberg? Well, here they are, because they pitched their tents nearby, and decided to go check out the Hillerska camp. It's not just Rosh and Ayub randomly walking through the woods.

Subtext: In season 2, we learned that Stella has a crush on Fredrika that she thinks is one-sided, but Fredrika sure has some kind of reaction to seeing Stella being close with Rosh. Jealousy, perhaps? Not clear at this point in time.

Subtext: Read the room Fredrika, for fuck's sake. At least Wilhelm has started learning to recognize privilege. The other rich kids probably recognize their privilege, but they're mostly just enjoying how much better they are than the poor regular kids.

Subtext: But Wilhelm's still got a lot more to learn. Yes, technically he is forced to spend his summer studying, and technically it is a kind of work, but the underlying reasons are completely different. If he skips it or fails, nothing bad will happen to him, unlike the Marieberg kids who rely on their summer jobs to have any sort of spending money.

Lost in translation: Wilhelm's dad says that the queen is going to be "sjukskriven", which is more serious than someone deciding on their own to take some time off or to use some sick days. It means that a doctor has evaluated you and decided that you are not fit to work, and that if you're a regular person, you are eligible for sick pay for the foreseeable future.

Cinematography: Yeah, mommy is really sick and Wilhelm is feeling the weight of responsibility, but take a look at that sunrise! It's so pretty! Wilhelm is completely in shadow because trouble whatever, but look at how that light just pops, with the sky and the water and the sun on the trees! Beautiful!

[adhdduckie]

felix felices, or liquid luck f.w. x fem! reader.

my masterlist

irl mutuals dni (你没有看到我）

music choice; yo bro wtf

t.w.: swearing. (sorry i couldnt help myself)

word count: 3.5k

synopsis; strangers (hallway crushes) to lovers, with the help of felix felicis potion, or the liquid luck potion!!

here you go anon! hope you enjoy <3 sorry i took so long.

im so sunburnt help

(slightly inspired from my own events but let me tell you i died inside. i hate chemistry oh my lord, potions reminds me too much of it lol)

warnings; not proof read. 3 (?) mentions of y/n, a really stupid misunderstanding. reader is described with hair that can get blown into their face.

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everybody knew fred weasley. it was impossible not to, as they were hogwart's most well known pranksters since the era of the marauders.

of course, you did not happen to know him well enough yourself. you had a couple of lessons with him, such as; potions, herbology, and arithmetics.

His brother and he never really contributed anything to class discussion, only ever helpfully supplying mischief and jokes, and whatever they deemed interesting to themselves.

however, you noticed him wherever you went. It seemed as if it was almost impossible not to, he just happened to pop up randomly everywhere. In hogsmeade, in the hallways between classes, and in your dreams. (not in a weird way you weirdos).

Maybe the first time you ever really started thinking about him was when he appeared in your dream…you weren't too sure. But soon enough, you began thinking about him way too much, counting down the lessons till you could see him again in a next lesson.

you began searching for him in the hallways, the common room, the dining hall. even in places you know he would never be, but it just seems like you were always looking for him.

in lessons, everything he did, you were drawn to. you knew what he had, knew what he liked, and you spoke to him only every once in a while.

'this sucks.' you'd tell your friends. they'd laugh, telling you you should just talk to him more.

which isn't really helpful. you would think.

through some miracle ( or horror, you really couldn't decide.) you ended up sitting with fred in potions. Technically it wasn't a miracle, you had just been goofing off with your friends, being too loud for dear old snapey, you'd been moved next to him.

'oh god oh god oh god oh god' was the only thing going through your head as you packed up your desk to move next to him. your friend could barely hold in her laughter, having to slap her own hand over her mouth to muffle it.

'oh shit oh shit oh shit what have i done to deserve this oh my god' is what you were thinking as you walked towards the back, brushing past george as you walked towards fred.

You sat down at his desk, and he turned his face to you, giving you a soft smile. you pray internally that your face does not erupt into flames.

professor snape, once satisfied that you are suffering, turns back to the board, tapping his wand impatiently on the board.

"today," he drawls, "we will be attempting the felix felicis potion. failure to produce a functioning potion will result in a fourteen inch parchment describing every step you made and what you did wrong." he finishes, piercing his gaze into every one of his students.

you wince. fourteen inches for a mistake? seems costly. Potions has never been your strong point. (for the purpose of this, we're gonna pretend fred is excellent at potions.) You pray to the gods above that you don't mess this up for fred.

as snape sits down on his desk, working through marking some paper. as you get up to go get the ingredients as fred sets up the cauldron. you come back, setting down the ashwinder egg, squid bulb, murtlap growth, thyme occamy eggshell, and powdered common rue on the desk.

fred smiles again, thanking you for your help.

"so we have to set in the ashwinder egg first. you wanna do it?" fred asks, as you tie up your hair. he watches as you do so, and you nod, trying to fight off any embarrassment.

he steps back from the cauldron, letting you do so. your hands are shaking and you are doing everything in your power to stop it. in your haste, you knock over the murtlap growth, but before it falls, fred's hand flashes out, catching it in his hand.

"sorry!" you apologise frantically, and he laughs. It's the nicest laugh you've ever heard, deep and infectious, a laugh you'd be able to hear across the room and still recall years later.

"don't worry. i caught it." he says, setting it back on the table.

you smile, avoiding eye contact. you manage to finish the task, and with his help with mixing, the felix felicis is done. while he was mixing, you tried to pretend not to notice his hands. they're nice, to say the least. his hands are rough and calloused from years of being on the quidditch team, as a beater. he's got small white scars littered across his hands from years of experimenting with george over their joke shop products. you have to drag your eyes away.

The felix felicis potion is finished, and it's the most beautiful shade of gold you've ever seen. You would describe it akin to what you would imagine liquid gold to be, and it fits perfectly into a little vial the size of your middle finger. all that work for a little vial no bigger than your middle finger.

it's still the most valuable potion in the world, though.

the potion has large drops of gold leaping across the surface like goldfish, but it never seems to spill out of the vial. you put the stopper over it, and you hand it to fred, your fingers brushing against his warm ones in the process.

"thanks." he seems to whisper, even though he speaks at normal volume.

"we work well together, i think. usually i can't even get a basic potion done." you tell him, laughing a little.

"i bet that's not true." he responds, the corner of his lips upturned.

"it is." you laugh.

you both return to your seats after setting all the equipment away, and as the first group finished, it means you get to present it first.

snape looks at it approvingly, the first time he's ever regarded something you've done, as done well. you can't help but smile, and snape speaks. "i'm glad that you were able to work well once i removed you from your friends. mr. weasley will now be your partner."

you stare at him in slight disbelief, before shrugging and saying, "yes professor snape."

"as the first students done, and the best potion made, you may keep it. decide amongst yourselves which of you gets it." snape finishes, before shooing you away from his desk.

you both stare at each other, your eyes meeting his hazel brown ones. "you have it-" "i don't want-" you both say, before he tries to hand it to you.

you push his hand away, shaking your head, "it's alright, you can keep it."

"no, i think you should keep it. after all, you need it for potions, right?" he jokes, pushing it into your hands.

you gape at him in mock shock. "how could you say that! We only did so well because of me!" you respond, in mock indignation.

he laughs, as he closes your palm over the small vial, and you realise you've lost. however, you decide, you will sneak it into his bag when he's not paying attention.

the end of the lesson has never come so fast. And for the first time in your life, you're slightly disappointed to leave potions. before leaving you levitate the felix felicis potion into his bag with your wand, and you grin wickedly. you'll just have to see him in your other classes later.

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Fred Weasley thinks he is absolutely screwed. After a year of having a crush on a girl who he does not talk to often, despite sharing three lessons with her, he is now partners in potions with her for an indefinite period of time.

He doesn't know when he first noticed you, but god, is he glad he did. he thinks you may be the prettiest girl he's ever seen, with the brightest smile, and the sweetest personality.

so imagine his surprise, that this sweet girl, has gotten in trouble for talking so much (he doesn't care, he liked listening to your voice)

while you were freaking out and chanting 'oh shit' in your head, something similar was going through fred's. george coughs, unsuccessfully hiding his laugh behind it. fred elbows george to get him to shut up as you approach the table, and george gathers his things, to leave. he winks at fred, before walking to your previous seat next to your friend, flashing a quick and easy smile.

fred wishes he could talk to you so easily, and he tries his best not to show his nervousness, flashing you what he thinks is an awkward smile. (it isnt, it looks natural as hell, not to mention hot as hell)

while you make the potion, he watches you with fervour, as if he's scared he'll miss a single movement you'll make, hungrily soaking up your smiles like a man starved.

every touch feels like something he's been missing, like a hot cup of chocolate after a walk in winter, and he's scared he's going to get addicted.

he wants to give you the felix felicis, and is happy when you finally give up. after potions, in herbology, he reaches into his bag, to find the felix felicis. he laughs, before searching across the classroom for you.

when he makes eye contact, he raises an eyebrow, holding it in his palm to show you, his heart fluttering in his chest. he looks as composed and calm as ever to you, but he knows differently.

it becomes a game, the felix felicis. it takes over several months, and you start to get creative with it, hiding it in his mail, he hid it in your textbooks somehow, you hid it in his hair, etc etc.

it became a competition, who could come up with the craziest spots. after you hid it a couple months later in what you hope was his jacket pocket.

it's been awhile since you had first sat with fred in potions because of professor snape, and you're so happy to say that you've grown closer over the months, even spending time together out of lessons at cafes to study, or in the library together.

after hiding the felix felicis in his jacket pocket while on a walk with him in the winter months, you wait for his turn.

one day passes. nothing happens. another day, and another. four days later, and it still hasn't turned up yet. where is it? you wonder. you check for it everywhere you go, turning your entire dorm upside down searching for it.

he couldn't have lost it, right? it was in his jacket pocket. could it be that he's bored of this game, and he just decided to keep it? must be.

you're disappointed, of course, it was very enjoyable. but there's nothing you can really do.

imagine your surprise, when you walk into the dining hall, to see fred standing with his brother, and what- what's that in his hand? none other than the felix felicis.

you watch as he takes a swig of it, setting the rest of the vial in his pocket. his brother pats him on the back in what seems to be encouragement, and he walks over to your friend.

he smiles at her, and she smiles back. they talk and for some reason your heart starts to get a bit heavy.

'did he just drink the felix felicis just to talk to her?' you ask yourself. unable to stand there and watch, you turn around and walk out of the dining hall, threading your fingers through your hair, brushing it away from your face.

something dark, sick and familiar is brewing in the pit of your stomach, it's pulling, pushing your heart strings.

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fred weasley is going to ask you out. he toys with the felix felicis vial in his pocket as he waits for you to enter the dining hall, turning it over and over again in his pocket as he leans against one of the columns with george.

you don't show up for awhile, and fred's wondering where you are.

"go ask her friend." george states, pushing him forward, giving him a reassuring pat on the back.

fred hypes himself up, and he takes the vial out of his pocket, swigging a sip as he stalks towards your friend. the liquid is thick but light in his mouth, tasting of golden hawthorn berries and honey.

he taps her on the shoulder and smiles at her nervously.

"hey. where's y/n?" he asks your friend

"she's still upstairs i believe." she responds with a smile.

she turns around to see you walking out of the hall, and her smile drops.

"oh."

"what?" fred asks.

"i think she may have misunderstood what's going on." she sighs, and gives fred a slightly strained smile. "you couldn't have waited till after you spoke to me to drink it, could you?"

fred flashes a confused look. "whatever do you mean?"

"hasn't the entire potion been a game? who could hide it the best?" your friend asks him.

"i mean, yeah, it has. but i don't see the problem…?" he scratches the back of his neck.

she rolls her eyes, muttering something about 'boys…' freds eyes narrow, and she lets out a soft laugh.

"right. think of it this way. imagine you've had a crush on this guy for ages. you're not exactly close, but you talk. you have one 'special' thing you do together. for example, hiding the potion….and then you see them keeping it for themselves….you got me?" Your friend finishes, raising her eyebrows at him.

he stares, before realisation finally dawns on him.

"oh shit." he mutters, hand threading through his ginger locks.

"well?" your friend asks, somewhat impatient. "go after her."

fred nods, sprinting across the dining hall, after you. praying to himself that he can fix this, and george throws him a thumbs up as he sprints past.

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'fuck.' you think as you sit down on the edge of the astronomy tower. you can't help but replay the moment of fred drinking the felix felicis before he speaks to your friend. he looked so nervous but so hyped.

you're not about to jump off the astronomy tower, but it's a nice place to be where you need some time alone, to think. you need that now.

that sick, familiar and painful thing pulling at your gut earlier, its back. theres nothing you can do now, but just sit back and let it happen, you suppose.

She's your friend, and so is fred. you have to be okay with it. it's not worth losing friends over.

the wind picks up, ruffling your hair into your face, tangling it into knots. the rain starts pouring down, dropleta cascading down your face.

turning your face up to the sky, you let out a deep sigh, feeling tears prickling at your waterline, fighting the tears back. 'no. you don't have a right to be upset.' you chatise.

'he's not yours. he never was.' you need to remind yourself. this isn't fair to either of them, they had no control over their feelings.

despite that, the tears continue to fall. you can't compete, this isn't fair. she knew you liked him. she knew how you felt. you literally spoke to her about it.

There is nothing. nothing you can do about this. you are just going to have to wait for the feelings to go away. it wouldn't be fair to like your best friend's boyfriend. (getting ahead of yourself, aren't we?)

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fred weasley is freaking out. he can't find you. you're not in the common room, in any of your lessons for the day (yes, he knows your schedule), you're not in any of the bathrooms (he didn't go in, he just asked the girls who came out of the bathrooms), and you're not near the black lake.

in his haste, he almost runs in to someone. "shit." he grunts

"watch where you're going!" someone says. he looks up and realises it's harry.

"oh it's you. you alright there, fred?" harry says, pulling fred up to his feet.

"harry!" fred basically shouts. "where's the marauders map?" he practically begs, and harry raises a brow in response.

"not the time. i need it." harry nods, pulling it out of his pocket, before handing it over to fred.

"oh shit." fred whispers, seeing your name pop up at the astronomy tower. how could he forget it? you told him weeks ago that it was your favourite place in the school.

shoving the marauders map back into harry's arms, fred yells his thanks to harry as he speeds through the hall, skipping steps three at a time to get to you, he stumbles a couple of times, not hitting the floor, but catching himself just in time.

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

your back is to the door, and the combination of the rain and the wind prevents you from hearing it open.

"y/n? are you alright?" fred asks quietly, taking a deep breath and sitting besides you.

you turn your face away, wiping away the marks of tears before turning back to him.

"yeah. just enjoying the rain. it's nice, isn't it?" you tell him, trying to change the topic, giving him a soft smile.

you both stare off into the distance, slowly watching all the dark rain clouds move away from the astronomy tower.

he notices that you're drenched, and he sighs. he pulls his jumper over his head, pulling his wand out from his pocket as he does so. "exaresco" he whispers as you dry off.

he passes you his jacket, which you accept without a word. it's still warm with his body heat, and smells faintly of the quidditch pitch and cinnamon, tinged with a scent of something burnt.

"so. you and (friend's name), huh?" you say to attempt to lighten the mood. turning your face to him, you send him a (fake) sly smile, nudging him in the arm.

he stares at you, furrowing his eyebrows. since he finally knows how you feel about him, why are you acting like this?

"no." his reply is short, straight to the point.

you gape at him, mouth falling open and he lets out a deep chuckle, his index finger reaching out and pushing your jaw back up.

"what do you mean no?? I saw you going up to her, drinking the felix felicis." you say, pushing his hand away from your face with a confused frown.

"it wasn't for her." He states simply, hoping his answer is enough for you to finally understand his feelings.

you stare blankly at him.

"you're one of the smartest people i know, but you're so oblivious." he states, sighing playfully.

"then who's the lucky girl?" you ask him, not really wanting to hear the answer anyway. your stomach's already feeling heavy, and he's not even said anything yet. is it katie bell? angelina johnson? who else has he spoken to that he might like?

fred lets out a groan. how can you be so oblivious.

"what?" You laugh, nudging him and trying to get out an answer from him. your hands are getting cold, so you put them in your (fred's) jacket pockets. there's something cold inside, and you pull out a familiar vial.

"why would you think there's anyone else?" fred asks, eyes trained on you as you turn the vial over and over again in your hands.

that catches your attention and your eyes turn to him. "what do you mean?"

fred laughs, his hand combs through his ginger locks as he pushes them back nervously.

"I'm trying, and failing apparently, to tell you i like you." he finally says, laughing nervously again, avoiding eye contact with you.

you gape, for the umpteenth time tonight, before realising he must be joking. you force out a laugh, slightly (super) disappointed. "you're so funny." you deadpan.

"i'm not joking."

"you must be." You respond, slightly hurt that he finds something like this funny. you're facing away again, so you don't notice him look at you. something steels inside of him, and he's confident this will end in his favour.

he reaches up, his hand finding your jaw, and he pulls your face back to him.

something in his eyes is dark, and you realise for the first time, that he's not joking. there's something similar to adoration in his eyes, and it's everything you do in your power to stop from gasping.

"i'm not joking." he repeats.

you can feel his breath on you, fanning across your skin like a warm embrace.

"are you sure?" you whisper, trying to contain the butterflies in the pit of your stomach.

"yes." his response is short, sure and straight to the point. "i am"

the next thing you know, his lips are on yours, breaths mingling together. he pulls you closer, and you feel yourself melt into his embrace.

you pull back from the kiss, and he lets out a unhappy groan.

"does this mean…you like me?" you ask him.

he glares at you, and you laugh. "i'm only joking." is your response. he grins, his forehead resting against yours.

you lie your head on his shoulder, and the both of you enjoy each other's company. this all happened because of felix felics. you can't help but feel so grateful. maybe you should stop hating potions now.

[emo-batboy]

i'd like the chart thanks!

Also, there's another person who wants to rp Leo, can they?

Okay a few people are asking for the chart so here’s the current chart!! (I took out some characters that are still not as fleshed out. That includes Nathan, Ria, Nina, Ashley, Zoe, Ray, Maggie, and the hater and Metropolis characters, but they’re all filler characters rn)

A Wild Battinson Character Lore Continuity

- Felicity

- Oldest of the bunch, right between Millennial and Gen Z

- Works at an office, besties with everyone there. Corporate girlie (does use the term girlboss)

- Like if a Gothamite/Bruce Wayne fan was swiftie-coded?

- She has a pet pitbull, you know that kind of white girl

- Tatum

- Goth U, Comp Sci major

- Keeps everyone he knows online at arms length so we don’t know much, has a small close knit friend group irl but he’s also mutuals with everybody on twitter because he’s that kinda guy yk?

- But they’re slowly convincing him. He’s getting there

- Marzia

- Oh god poor Marzia

- Italian, born in Northern Italy, English is her second language but you wouldn’t be able to tell if it weren’t for her slight accent

- Biggest Bruce Wayne stan, will go feral, but only gets replies from him at the worst moments possible

- *snorts like cocaine* “Please don’t do cocaine” is my personal favorite

- Goth U, she gives art major vibes but tacked on a double major in psychology last minute so now she’s staying a fifth year

- Reads smut, writes smut, part of the poetry club, def on booktok, you know the type

- Alejandro

- Runs an ice cream stand in the park on the weekends when it’s warm enough

- Bi, Dating Leo (pfp is them holding hands because he’s a whipped son of a bitch)

- He’s like if that normal-looking kind of athletic guy who always wore sweatshirts and basketball shorts to class just suddenly mentioned he had a boyfriend one day.

- He’s straight-coded but more specifically “the straight guy that gay guys have crushes on against their better judgement”-coded

- Knew the whole time he was bi but never REALLY liked a guy until Leo 🥺. whenever he looks at Leo, he’s got those madly in love eyes

- Thinks Batman is hot and suffers constant torment from Leo (who has a crush on Bruce) because of it

- Ale just wants to be bench pressed is that too much to ask? But It’s his fault he’s a twunk dating a twink so—

- Goth U, Really interested in tech stuff but he’s actually a sports medicine major. He wants to be a physical therapist for athletes

- Cannot hold his liquor

- Smile Watch

- Who knows

- It’s a mystery

- Lela

- Goth Girl

- BFF’s with Nico (goth girl, e-boy solidarity)

- Also good friends with Natalie, they lined up all their gen Ed’s together

- Chill in a Morticia Addams kinda way. She is Morticia Addams actually

- Mom owns a convenience store, she helps out after classes a lot

- Studied for the MCAT, did pretty well, she wants to be a doctor (probably neurosurgeon but it depends on what internship she gets)

- Currently completing the undergrad to grad program at Goth University with a masters in public health

- Natalie

- Former intern, now ASSISTANT at Wayne Press

- Got the job because she impressed Bruce with her good reporting skills, now works mostly on organizing press releases and maintaining Bruce’s public image

- Great at her job because she knows social media and Bruce Wayne Stans the best (she is one obv)

- (Babysits Bruce when Alfred is busy, how did this happen, why is this her job now? She’s tired of his shit lol)

- Still technically working part-time because she hasn’t gotten her degree yet, but she’s set to work full time after she graduates Goth U in May

- Sometimes while sitting at her desk she just gets that perspective shift where she’s like “how did I get here” Bruce Wayne Stans’ dreams do come true

- Caleb 🤡

- Literally 18/19 but aging faster than humanly possible with the stress he’s under

- Used to work at Bat Burger, left because the babysitting gig required more time

- Lives with his aunt who’s already retired (used to live alone, she never had kids or a husband so she’s loaded) He’s staying cuz his parents are super busy and travel for work :) and guess what crime-filled alley their window overlooks? I’ll give you one guess

- Babysits Tim, used to be a less serious gig but his parents have been out of town a lot lately (just vacationing without their child 🙄) and thankfully Caleb lives right across from their swanky apartment so he’s practically a nanny now (read: older sibling/third parent)

- Took a ton of childcare courses for this job and now he’s kind of interested in working at a daycare maybe? If Tim doesn’t kill him in his sleep first

- Recently graduated Goth High, now takes online classes at Goth Community College while deciding what to do with his life

- Jarod

- Recently graduated Goth High, now taking a gap year before starting GothU in the fall. Him and Caleb were always in the same classes so they’re super close (they’re the youngest)

- Future Comp Sci/English major (he wants to be a video game writer)

- Has a younger sister, and technically the oldest child but spiritually he’s the middle child.

- His parents and Priyanka’s parents are close friends so he kind of grew up seeing Priyanka as an older sister. That’s why they’re Like That.

- Literally so fed up with Priyanka, it’s not even funny (yes it is) but the second you’re rude to Priyanka, he will deck you, watch yourself

- Katie (Sweater Thief)

- ER Nurse at Gotham General Hospital, mostly does night shifts

- Gives chronically online energy when she’s online, but everyone in real life wouldn’t suspect a thing because she’s so good at having her life together (the code switch will give you whiplash)

- Surprisingly older than most of the others despite being Like That.

- Literally graduated with a 4.2 GPA how tf?

- BFF’s with Leo then became BFF’s with Ale too after they started dating (she is slowly corrupting Ale and I think that’s beautiful)

- Creator of the Babygirl Bruce Wayne Agenda and PROUD

- Priyanka

- Works at coffee shop owned by her mom called Caffe Mood. She plans to run it one day. Currently a barista

- Goth U, business major (accounting)

- Bilingual, knows Hindi

- LESBIAN QUEEN

- Despite being gay, She is allowed to think Bruce Wayne is hot, that is her Right

- Mad fucking crush on Georgia, calls her Georgie. Intends to never tell a soul. Will fail miserably

- Dead fucking set on the idea that Batman’s a vampire

- But she thinks everyone’s a vampire so—

- Her parents and Jarod’s parents are close friends so she kind of grew up seeing Jarod as a younger brother. That’s why they’re Like That

- Jarod is constantly on her nerves, wtf Jarod (but be mean to him and she’ll kill you)

- Leo

- Works at bookstore called Gotham City Bookstore

- Gay, Dating Alejandro

- Twink (derogatory)

- Swears his gaydar is the most accurate there is (always wrong)

- Made being gay his entire personality because he had an identity crisis in middle school and proceeded to have a massive crush on some straight guy all of high school (that guy was Ale, Leo’s gaydar is so off)

- BFF’s with Katie despite being a few years younger. They were in a high school production of Sweeney Todd together and the rest was history

- Calls every single celebrity gay as a joke, Ale reigns him in if he’s getting too out of hand

- Used to have a mad celebrity crush on Bruce, still kinda (definitely) does

- Attends GothU, undecided for a while but ultimately settled on mathematics because it’s ironically his best subject

- One of those mf’s that needs to be held back at all costs, god help Ale

- Rose 🌹

- Works a tailoring job full time

- Good friends with Felicity, she’s like the black cat to Felicity’s golden retriever

- 70% super nice and chill, 30% wild card party girl

- Gets drinks with friends a lot, tweets when drunk but no one can tell the difference. It’s amazing

- Does not seem horny, is horny. But like normal about it? If that’s a thing

- Nico

- Kinda plays the straight man of the group if the straight man was emo

- BFF’s with Lela (e-boy, goth girl solidarity)

- KING of twitter roasts. He makes memes to end lives.

- Pansexual, single, and probably writing bad poetry in his diary about it but don’t tell anyone

- Goth U, actually dunno the major. Probs public health with Lela but doesn’t want to be a doctor. More like research parallel to social sciences

- Has a 8/9yo sister named Madelaine whom he would die for despite not expecting to be an older brother so late in the game (what were his parents thinking)

- Has tea parties with her and all that jazz. She steals his eyeliner and chain accessories all the time, also she’s friends with Dick and Barbie (yes, Barbara Gordon) so sometimes he watches over their play dates

- He’s a “tough emo boy” so he totally doesn’t laugh at Madelaine’s puns. He’s a bitch ass liar

- Kellyanne

- GothU, marine biology. Transferred from GCCC with an associates degree to save money but now she’s got a full ride cuz of the WE higher education fund

- More recent Bruce Stan

- Pretty poor upbringing, that’s how she met Bruce Wayne. He bought her whole family groceries one night after her card declined at the convenience store trying to buy dinner

- Now she’s in it for the long haul :)

- Lia

- GothU, fashion merchandising

- A GIRL’S GIRL

- Older sister also attends Goth U, but she’s in med school

- More recent Bruce Wayne stan, still not particularly in with the culture and jokes but getting there

- Friends with Georgia and Elizabeth irl. Elizabeth was in the same sorority before graduating first. Got to know Georgia after Lia found her dog with Bruce at the park outside GothU. They party together now

- Elizabeth

- Graduated GothU last May and worked an internship at LexCorp, immediately regretted it but snagged a job at WE (thank god)

- Now works as a research assistant at Wayne Tech in the R&D department for commercial products

- Didn’t really get the whole Bruce Wayne Stan thing until Bruce Wayne personally wished her a happy birthday?? The man is so sweet?

- Absolutely loves her job but still screams at rubber ducks over faulty code in her little cubicle, but that’s the industry she chose so it’s a give and take

- Met Natalie through Stan twitter and now they DM each other about working at Wayne Enterprises

- Doesn’t post much on twitter but follows the main Bruce Stan accounts, irl friends with Lia and Georgia

- Georgia

- Has a dog named Bean

- GothU, majoring in like three languages, polyglot (including Hindi 😏)

- Works at a retail home decor kinda store (home goods?)

- So lesbian-coded, but does not know it yet. Priyanka is her gay awakening. She is now a regular at Caffe Mood (She thinks she just likes the coffee (yeah right))

- Works at Goth U’s admissions department over the summer too

- Once got drunk and locked herself onto a roof by accident, ended up hanging out with Batman (he offered to break into her apartment for her but she said “nah”)

- Jane

- Works at Wayne Enterprises

- Runs bring your kid to work day (idk what her actual job is but she’s an Essential Worker, okay?)

- Very sweet, 10/10, looks on the bright side but never in a toxic positivity way

- Super social too, became work friends with Bruce because she’s nice but not draining to his social battery? They have lunch on occasion

- Watched the Graysons die with Bruce, call that trauma bonding

- Watched her toxic ex’s car burn to a crisp after a joker spree and took a selfie with it (she can have a little revenge, as a treat)

[sea-owl]

I just had an idea. So we know Felicity is supposed to be a talented little artist right? What if she just paints all her family members around the house. Like little snapshots. It's not odd to see Felicity in a random corner of the house painting whatever or whoever is in the room.

She has a portrait of Portia at teatime, and one of Penelope at her writing desk. There's one of Prudence doing needlework, and one of Philippa brushing her hair out for bed. Of course, she has one of her bestie Hyacinth surrounded by her named flower.

She currently has an ongoing series that she dubs The Love Language of Food. She has a completed portrait of her sister Philippa and her husband, Albion Finch, lovingly sharing a plate of cheese. It was sickenly gross. She also has a portrait of that funny time where Prudence was hand feeding her new husband, Harry Dankworth, some grapes. He looked so silly, with that silly smile on his face.

Penelope technically has a portrait Felicity painted for this collection, but also technically it isn't. The person she's with isn't her partner, and Felicity supposed if everything worked out she soon could add an official portrait to this collection should Penelope marry Lord Debling.

Felicity made a face at the thought, her nose scrunched up and her lips pouted. She rather her sister didn't marry Lord Debling. Sure, the man had a love for vegetables, or rather an abhorrence for any meat, but he didn't really fit with the theme of this series. At least in Felicity's opinion.

Felicity looked over at the portrait she's unofficially dubbed as Penelope's. The portrait itself was from a tea time that got a little wild. Felicity and Hyacinth had ganged up on Hyacinth's brother Gregory, pelting him with the scones. He had tried to get them back with some jam but as always Gregory's aim was terrible and ended up hitting one of his older sisters. As there was no proper adult supervision a full on food fight broke out between the Bridgerton siblings and the two Featherington sister.

At one point during the food fight Felicity happened to look over at her sister, who was covered in food, next to her laughing was Colin Bridgerton, who was also covered in food. They were both laughing, and at one point Penelope pulled some sort of frosting out of her hair to lob it against Colin. The image stuck with Felicity and she added it to her snapshot collection.

Maybe Felicity could officially accept this portrait for Penelope's? After all isn't friendship another type of love? Felicity liked to think so. At the very least they looked fond of one another, as they always did in her portraits.

At the very least, if Felicity kept this portrait in, she wouldn't have to add Lord Debling. There's no way he beats Colin's love of food.

[dwonfilm]

Old habits die hard. | Beau Arlen x Reader

Summary: after Beau’s divorce he and [Y/N] were involved, but he realized it wasn’t fair for many reasons and things ended in a mess, but his past comes back to bite when [Y/N] shows up in Montana as a kidnapping victim and the perpetrators are tied to the cartel that killed his old partner.

This will be a multi-part story, set after season three of Big Sky.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x Reader

Warnings: kidnapping, being stuck in a confined space, (if you’re ever reading one of my stories and there’s something you think should’ve been included in the warnings—comment or message me!)

Mentions: Jenny Hoyt, Cassie Dewell, Carla, Felicity [L/N]

Part I:

It was dark. That much she knew from the second she opened her eyes and the scenery didn’t seem to change. Now there was a headache ringing in her head, feeling like a jackhammer against the back of her skull. Blinking furiously to attempt to force her eyes to adjust faster, they’d just started to when there was a loud clunk. It sounded like.. a car door maybe? Slowly her eyes adjusted to the darkness that wrapped around her like a cold blanket. Unfortunately there wasn’t much to see—despite the clearer vision, wherever she was hadn’t offered any clues. Now she attempted to move, which is when another unfortunate realization set in: her hands were behind her back. Held together somehow, it felt like duct tape. What the hell was going on..? All of a sudden her theory about the car door was confirmed, the engine of whatever vehicle she was in roared to life and they pulled out of wherever they’d stopped. Desperately she tried to rack her brain, trying to remember what led up to this moment. This only resulted in irritation towards herself as she couldn’t remember.. maybe she was drugged? Who the hell would wanna do something like that?

Helena, Montana.

Beau was seated at his desk, the door to his office ajar. All he was doing, which is what he’d been doing all morning, was catching up on paperwork. It had been a quiet morning around the Sheriff’s Department, so he begrudgingly decided to catch up with the paperwork he’d been very behind on. Once the afternoon rolled around, he’d managed to get about half of it done. That’s when his phone buzzed, the noise louder because it was lying atop his desk. Garnering Beau’s attention, he laid the pen down for a moment and picked up the device. Slowly reading the preview, he was confused and so he put in his passcode and opened the messages app. Clicking the new text, now the full thing could be seen.

Hi, I don’t know if you even have the same number. It’s been.. a long time. Anyway. I didn’t know who else to reach out to but something is desperately wrong. Beau, this is Felicity—[Y/N]’s sister. She’s missing.

Beau felt his heart start to race in his chest. It was a name he’d seen many times over, but he hadn’t seen her in person for about two and a half years. Quickly he typed a response, his mind racing a mile a minute.

Hi, Felicity. This is Beau I still have the same number. What do you mean she’s missing? How long?

He didn’t know whether or not she’d reply quickly and so he picked the pen back up and tried to focus on the report he’d been writing up before opening that text. Scribbling out a sentence or two before his mind drifted back to the woman he’d tried his best to not call or text for so long.

Two and a half years prior.

“You know darlin’ you don’t have to do all this—I’m alright really.” Beau speaks, looking at the woman who was cleaning up the kitchen area of his tiny apartment. She smiled, her [Y/H/C] hair tied in a messy bun so it wouldn’t get in her way. Right now she was scrubbing the countertops that looked like they hadn’t been washed in weeks. “If I don’t, no one else will.” She replied, without looking back at him. He’d shake his head before taking a step towards the kitchen but he’d be met with her [Y/E/C] eyes narrowed at him. “Didn’t I tell you to stay outta my way, cowboy?” She asked, pointing her finger directly towards him. Both of his hands were throw up in mock innocence. “Maybe I just wanted to give you a kiss huh? It’s not everyday a man’s got a pretty lady all dressed down and yet still lookin’-“ he’d paused his own sentence to whistle lowly. “-so fine.” [Y/N] playfully rolled her eyes before walking over to where the man stood. “You’re not distracting me. I’m getting this done today, so, I don’t know—go out. Get some lunch or somethin’ or y’know.. go for a walk.” She replied, lifting her head to press a soft kiss to his cheek. Immediately after, she turned and went back to the sponge and the cleaner that was on the counter. Gripping the bottle and spraying a bit of the liquid-turning-foam onto the surface of the countertop and beginning to scrub. Beau stood there for a minute dumbfounded, why such a beautiful woman would stand here and clean for someone so.. messy, in every sense of the word. It confused him. It also made him sad, because he knew what it was leading to and what would soon become of this.. situationship. “Arlen stop starin’ at my ass before I start slapping you with the broom. Out!” She said over her shoulder, to which he couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’m goin’ sweetheart. I’m goin’!” He walked down the hallway towards the bedroom, needing to get dressed before heading out.

Flashback over.

Two more buzzing sounds broke him from the memory, sighing at how life had played out. It was Felicity again. Quickly his eyes looked over the two texts she’d sent to him, his heart sinking.

Oh thank god. I know.. I know things ended kinda badly with you two but the cops here don’t seem to be doing much. She’s been gone for three days and they don’t seem to think it’s anything serious.

Beau her place was trashed. It looked like.. it looked like she tried to fight whoever took her and I’m terrified of what’s happening to my little sister. Clearly you still care.. I know you moved states but if you could call them.. push them into taking this seriously. I don’t want to find my sister as a corpse.

Beau sighed heavily, the last sentence of that text bringing an entire flurry of emotions swirling down on him. It was true, things didn’t end the best between them but that didn’t mean he stopped caring. Actually he’d been checking in on her via the internet for a while. Every three to four months, after the initial six months of ‘separating’ or whatever you’d wanna call it. Suddenly with this reality thrown at him, the gravity of all that went wrong hit him like a ton of bricks. Picking up his cell phone he typed a quick reply, because truthfully.. he wasn’t sure what he could do.

Alright. I’ll make some calls and I’ll try to get back to you later. If it isn’t later I’ll text tomorrow okay? I’m not gonna lie, I don’t know what I’m gonna be able to do—but I’m gonna try.

Arlen locked his phone and placed it back onto his desk. Dragging his palm over his face, he’d felt added tension onto his shoulders. He’d been so deep inside his own head that he didn’t hear Jenny knock. Seeing the look on his face, she stepped in and closed the door—the noise finally making him look up again. “Jenny, hey.” He spoke, trying to play things off but you’d think he’d learn that things weren’t that easy with Jenny Hoyt. “Cut the shit, Arlen. I know you better than that so spare me the cat and mouse game. What’s wrong?” She gazed at him with a stoic expression, crossing her arms and waiting for him to talk. “Jenny, no-“ he tried to speak but she cut him off immediately. “If you tell me nothing I’m gonna shove my boot so far up your ass you’ll taste the dirt from the farm I was just on.” Nothing about her demeanor changed. Sighing, the sheriff knew he’d been beat. “I just got a couple texts from.. someone I haven’t heard from in a while.” He began, hoping she wouldn’t pry but again, he should’ve known better than that. “An ex? Former convict? What is it Beau? You’ve got that pensive look on your face and I know that means something is seriously wrong.” She read him like a book and so he finally just gave in. “An ex’s sister, uh.. she was my first anything after Carla and the divorce. Man, I was fallin’ hard but I knew it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to try and build something when I also still wanted to fix things with Carla. It wasn’t fair to string her feelings along when I was so off the deep end. Being drunk almost every hour of every day. I was a wreck and yet she never judged me. I was difficult but so was she, just in a better way.” He sighed, running his hand through his hair from frustration. “So what happened? Why’d the sister text you?” She asked, leaning against his desk on the side and giving him time to collect his thoughts. “Apparently.. she’s missin’. Three days and the cops ain’t takin’ her sister seriously. She uh.. she said [Y/N]’s place was trashed like she was in a.. fight.” Beau explained, the look of worry extremely evident on his face. “Okay, so the sister wants you to look into it? I mean, I sympathize but if she’s in Texas.. there isn’t much you can do from here.” Jenny voiced the same thing he’d told Felicity in the texts. “I know. I’m gonna.. make a few calls to some old friends. See what information they can give me.” He replied, head hung lowly. “Well.. you know if you need help, Cassie and I, we’ve got your back. We’ll help however we can.” She offered, which he always knew but it was nice to have the reminder. “Thanks. I’ll.. uh, I’ll get back to you on it. Alright?”

Unknown location.

Slowly her eyes opened again, making it clear she’d either fallen asleep or passed out—the distinction impossible to make. Everything around her was still dark—absolutely nothing had changed, the vehicle’s engine still roaring as they moved down what she assumed was the interstate. They seemed to be moving faster than when she’d been awake or conscious last. Where the hell was she being taken? Once more, that ringing and pain in her head came. Testing the waters [Y/N] attempted to move her legs, but found that they too were bound—likely with duct tape just like her arms. It was clear that she was locked in a trunk, being driven somewhere by.. someone. Maybe multiple people. Blinking harshly she was trying to remember what happened, remember how she ended up here. Closing her eyes to try and think back to something, anything other than waking up at random intervals in complete darkness. Over and over she held her eyelids closed, tightly, trying to force herself to remember. Each and every attempt was unsuccessful and this was eating at her—she was growing more and more frustrated with herself. Why couldn’t she just remember? Suddenly the car went over a bump and she did her best to avoid hitting her head on the top part of the trunk. She had no idea how long she’d been in here and maybe what was worse—no idea how long she would be in here. Now she began thinking of her sister. Surely Felicity knew she was gone. [Y/N] had woken up in this total darkness probably three or four times in total, but she had no idea how long she was out each time she slept or lost consciousness. Again she held her eyelids tightly closed, hoping that she could somehow trigger any kind of memory. Silently pleading with herself to think, to remember. Suddenly, only in flashes, she began seeing images of herself inside her apartment. Cooking? It was.. lunch? No. It was.. dammit [Y/N] think. It was breakfast! She’d just gotten up, she didn’t work that day. She tried to envision the date, but it was just a blurry spot in her head. Next image that flashed was her looking outside through the glass of her sliding door. What was she looking at? Despite trying to look out the door, all that she saw was a blur. No matter how hard she tried she just couldn’t focus on whatever was outside that day. Shifting her attention back to herself, trying to focus on the expression upon her own face. It was unreadable. It wasn’t any kind of joy though, that she knew. Why was she looking outside? As she tried to focus more, everything behind began fading. She was passing out again. Fuck.

Back in Helena.

Beau had somehow made himself focus on finishing up the rest of the paperwork. It took longer than normal, his mind often drifting to either the situation in those text messages or just [Y/N] in general. After the last file was closed he took a deep breath, filling his lungs with air before pushing it back out again. There was so many thoughts swirling inside of his head. Why wouldn’t the cops be taking a disappearance seriously? Especially if her place was trashed. Who would want to take [Y/N]? Had she gotten tied up with some tough crowd? Maybe a boyfriend? Just that thought alone made him uncomfortable. Why did he feel so uncomfortable thinking about her with someone else? It wasn’t exactly a foreign feeling. He’d seen a couple photos of her and a guy on his periodic check-in about a year ago? They were never photos that she posted herself, which he thought was weird. Sighing he picked his phone up from the desk, again putting the passcode in and opening up Facebook first. He’d rarely used any of these sites and that was probably the reason she’d never taken him off of her friends list. Thumb tapped the search bar before both moved across the keyboard to type her name: [Y/N] [L/N]. Clicking and being taken right to your profile. Despite the more serious reasoning as to why he was looking her up, he couldn’t help but to click on the image used for your profile. Beau couldn’t help but smile at the photo when the image was enlarged. He’d taken this photo in his old apartment. He’d been lying down after mixing alcohol, which of course made him sick. Once [Y/N] had arrived at his place, she was immediately in the bed with him. She had sat against his headboard and made him lay between her legs, but he’d chosen to lay sideways with his back on her thigh and her opposing leg over his waist—he didn’t want to be laying in a way where he couldn’t see her face. After a while she figured he’d fallen asleep and so she turned to look out the window. It was sunrise because he’d called her in the middle of the night. It wasn’t the first time, not the last either. There was just.. something about the way she looked in the fresh bits of sunlight and so he took a picture. It was art then, damn sure was now too. Again Jenny had walked in but it was clear he was lost in a memory.

Eventually she needed to break the moment, so she spoke lowly. “Beau..” he looked up at his friend and quickly wiped the tears he didn’t even know had formed from his eyes. “Hey again. You got something?” He asked after clearing his throat. Jenny simply shook her head before closing the door much like she had earlier. Beau’s cloudy green hues looked back down to his phone and this prompted Jenny to come and lean against the side of his desk yet again. “Whatcha lookin’ at?” She inquired, gesturing towards his phone with her head. Again Beau sighed, handing his phone to the blonde. His palm running down his face again while her gaze moved toward the screen, [Y/N]’s picture still up. “This her?” She asked and she didn’t need to specify. “Yup, that’s her.” His response was dry, not because he was annoyed with Jenny but because he was frustrated with a whole lot. So many feelings had been stirred up with those texts earlier and now that he didn’t have something taking up half of his focus.. all he could do was spiral. “You call anyone yet, see what’s going on?” Jenny asked, handing him back his phone. “Not yet. I was just about to look at her page to answer a question I had but.. got stuck.” His voice was quiet. It was hard for Beau to open up about some things and that wasn’t new information to his friends. When telling stories to Jenny, Cassie or others on occasion he’d just say “a lady I was seein’ then” because saying her name was hard. “Something’s bugging you about this.. what’s on your mind?” Jenny knew him well, but Beau wasn’t sure how much he wanted to say right now. “Too many things are buggin’ me Jenny.” He stated plainly, perhaps a little sharply. “Sorry that was harsh. I just.. I’ve been burying these feelings for so long, not wanting to deal with ‘em and now they’re gnawing at me.” Jenny nodded and placed her hand onto Beau’s shoulder. “Well.. just remember you aren’t alone.” She squeezed his shoulder for emphasis before slowly standing upright again. “I’m going to see Cassie, talk over this case she’s dealing with but if you need us.. just text or call.” Jenny offered the lifeline again and Beau simply nodded. She left his office and went on her way as Beau again sighed. Minimizing the photo, his attention moved back to her profile. Scrolling back to where he’d left off the last time.

There was no sign of the guy he’d seen about a year ago, he hadn’t seen him the last time he looked either but she never posted him anyway. It was always a friend. Slowly he scrolled up, trying to see if anything seemed out of place. Beau’s swiping stopped at the last post she’d written which was five days ago. Eyes scanning the status and brows furrowing with worry. Slowly he read it aloud. “Exhausting week, work’s been crazy. I’ve been seeing that red car following me again but the cops say I’m just being paranoid. Who knows, maybe I am? I don’t know anymore. I also don’t know why I’m including this in my FB post. Anyway hope everyone is having a better day than me.” Beau knew the exact reason she included it. He’d always told her if something really felt off, document it somewhere, somehow. “What is going on with you darlin’? Where are you?” He spoke out loud, taking a quick screenshot of the post.

Unknown location.

[Y/N] felt her body jolt forward which caused her to wake up again. It was a harsh jolt and she heard the engine running but they weren’t moving. Something unexpected had caused the vehicle to come to a stop. She could hear muffled talking. It was.. it was difficult to focus again. All she could figure out was that the voices were male. At least two, but maybe three? Hearing any of the words that were being said was impossible. Both because they were muffled by the trunk and because that ringing in her ears was back. [Y/N]’s face contorted in pain, trying to just ride it out and hope it wouldn’t last for long. Maybe a minute or so went by and it finally subsided. Now the voices were yelling and all of a sudden there was a loud POP—was that a gunshot?

Author’s Note: Hello! Sorry this took so long, I needed to just get my head on correctly. I’m gonna add my tag list here, but since this is a Beau fic and not Dean, if you don’t want to be tagged in this series just comment or message and let me know! I hope you guys like it and I’m excited for my first Beau series. 🩷

• —– ٠ tag list: @roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @stillhere197 @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @aylacavebear @just-levyy ✤ ٠ —– • ·

[gulliblelemon]

Chapter 6

Everything is unravelling. Felice is a boss, August is a dick, Wille and Simon are ridiculously in love, and someone makes a surprise entrance.

"What, just because I’ve got this shitty fucking job that literally no one else can do, I’m not allowed to fall in love? Because how else am I supposed to do that, Felice? When do I ever get a chance to live a normal fucking life? And then when he leaves? And goes ashore? And I’m stuck on this fucking prison forever? What—”  But he couldn’t finish his sentence. Great, gasping sobs tumbled from his lips, before tears had even started falling. Wide-eyed, Felice hurried around her desk and crouched beside him, her hand on his knee. He placed his own over it and squeezed as he tried to get his breathing back under control. Wet rivulets were now tracking down his cheeks and dripping from his chin onto their clasped hands. “Wille…” she said, voice gentle. “You said— Are you… Are you in love with him?” Swallowing several times before answering, Wille said, “Of course I’m in love with him. How could I not be?” His voice was shaking, but he’d never been more sure of anything in his life. “I think I probably started falling in love with him the first day I met him. Felice, he’s perfect.”

Read the 6th and final chapter on AO3 or start from the beginning.

[bluedalahorse]

posting fic snippets out of a desperate need to feel something (that isn’t stress)

There are more real things to be stressed about, and then there are also things to be personally stressed about, like the camping trip I will be away chaperoning from Wednesday to Friday. I do not particularly love to be away from home or disruptions to my routine.

I had hoped to finish the fanfic I was working on before I left, because then I could just avoid my email inbox and my AO3 account and not constantly refresh to see if anyone decided to read my fic. But! That did not happen. It probably won’t happen because I still have the last scene to finish and those always take me too long.

I still want to share a little bit of fic though, so I think I’ll post some of the raw unedited text from today’s work. Nothing wrong with that, right?

Anyway have some post-university pre-second-chance-saraugust, I guess.

Usually driving home—or in this case, driving back to the temporary apartment she’s renting this week—is a way for Sara to decompress after long days on set. She can put on music or an audiobook, or call Simon and Felice. Sara wants nothing more than to recap the last ten hours to one of them, just so they can reassure her she isn’t overreacting. But Simon and Wilhelm are catching up with Rosh and Ayub over pizza and boardgames, and tonight is one of the nights Felice works late in her food truck.

Mamma? Things are better with Mamma lately, but she’d still tell Sara to not read too much into the directors’ and writers’ decisions. Pappa might understand better, if he’s sober, but Sara doesn’t want to reach out unless she’s certain he is.

What is she thinking? It’s not like she can go too far into the behind-the-scenes details of Age of Liberty, anyway, since the production team made her sign an NDA, and that means no venting.

When Sara returns to her temporary rental, the kitchen lights are too bright. They’re the same lights as yesterday, so she must be overstimulated. She flicks them off and on a few times trying to decide if she can stand them, before she finally lets the square yellow light of the microwave faintly illuminate the room instead. Then, Sara scrolls through her phone as the starchy, comforting smell of pasta fills the air.

Instagram provides the usual array of photographic distractions: the girls’ football team Rosh coaches, the award-winning hibiscus cake from Felice’s dessert menu, the too many ads for hair care products and earplugs and soft clothing and tropey novels. That’s mixed in with occasional news articles about climate change, as well as infographics from other neurodivergent influencers with bullet points about masking or proprioception or social scripts. Sara lets the images blur before her eyes and the letters in usernames turn into meaningless shapes, until a familiar expression—one that habitually holds back grief—causes her thumb to finally stop swiping.

It’s the official instagram of the Crown Prince of Sweden. August’s most recent post shows him working at a desk, head bowed over a neat stack of papers. He’s gripping a pen and wearing glasses, but he isn’t writing on the paper. The glasses are new and make him look serious. To his left is a tablet-sharped therapy light. That’s even newer, and it washes August’s face in a muted silver glow. Sara wonders if anyone will recognize the light’s true purpose.

Then she reads the caption: As the hours of daylight grow shorter, many Swedes show increased symptoms of depression. Don’t forget to spend time outdoors, and reach out to your medical provider if you are experiencing persistent low moods or feelings of hopelessness. Take care.

The microwave beeps as Sara reaches the last two words of the post. She puts her phone away as she extracts her pasta and sits down at the table to eat. After an initial few bites, her mind fills up with questions. Is the post meant to be a simple public health message? Or is there a more personal meaning behind it?

She shouldn’t be ruminating this much when August is her ex, and for good reasons, but after a long day—one where Sara’s surroundings had her thinking about August anyway—can she really help it?

After Sara moves her empty pasta bowl to the sink, she returns to her phone. The photo has disappeared from her feed when she opens the app again, which doesn’t surprise her. When Sara navigates over to the Crown Prince’s official account, however, the photo isn’t there either.

Someone had it deleted. Probably some social media manager who works for the royal court.

The palace loves it when you promote sympathetic causes, Wilhelm once told Sara. As long as the sympathetic cause you promote has no connection to you whatsoever.

[triz-costa]

Young Royals Fic Recs

YOUNG ROYALS (AO3)

5 times the students of Hillerska didn’t realize Wille and Simon were together + 1 time they definitely did by Piebingo/@piebingo

"5 times the students of Hillerska didn't realize Wille and Simon were together + 1 time they definitely did"

It’s not punishment (but why does it feel like it is) by starvalisedham (Chapters 5/6)

"three times crown prince Wilhelm did his duty, two times he refused, and one time where duty gave way for privilege. a.k.a. five times Wilhelm struggled to balance his duty as future monarch with his personal life, and the one time he learned to accept his lot in life (it helps that Simon has been there the entire time, helping him along) or: that ridiculously ham-handed fic where Hillerska students are constantly baffled by the dynamic between our two lovebirds"

Two Princes for the Price of One by Safr2n (Erik lives)

"Wilhelm spending time with Simon in Bjärstad leads to Erik discovering who his "crush" is. Turns out it comes in handy when he outs himself in front of the boys of Forest Bridge to defend Simon."

We’re In This Together by CaithyCat (Erik lives)

"Wilhelm and Simon try to cope with the aftermath of the video. Erik does everything he can to help."

Brothers, Brownies, and Brevity by NerdGirl07 (Erik lives)

"Written for the young royals secret santa exchange 2021 for the prompt: Erik lives! I'd love to see how the relationship between Erik and Simon could have been, if Erik had been alive. Erik being a great big brother, supporting Wilhelm and guiding him. Get ready for Erik being the greatest big brother ever, a dessert tower, a demonstration from the Hilerska rowing team, and an act of bravery."

You’re Simply the Best by cloudymilk (Chapters 27/27) (Erik lives)

“Hey Little brother,” Erik greeted. “Excited for your romantic rendezvous?” “Shut up,” Wille groaned, a blush rising to his cheeks. “Just making sure you didn’t chicken out,” Erik laughed. “Since August seems to be under the impression that you are coming home this weekend.” “Fucking August,” Wille muttered. “He’s staying back and I just- didn’t want to deal with him.” “So if you’re not staying there, and you’re not coming here…” Erik began, pausing for Willie to answer and giving another laugh when Wille didn’t fill in the blanks. “Pray tell Wilhelm, where exactly is my little brother spending the weekend? I thought your crush went to Hillerska?” or Erik lives"

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings by cloudymilk

"He’d always known Simon was beautiful, to him, it was a universal constant. But now, getting to see him in person, looking up at Wille so openly - eagerly - he was radiant. Following Wille's speech, he and Simon finally get some time alone together. Post S2 E6"

If hurting wounds would mend (never left that place inside my head) by Lire_Casander (Chapters 36/36)

"when a car accident when coming back to the palace after the last day of the term ends up with wilhelm in a coma, there’s a fracture in time. wilhelm’s subconscious provides him with a whole, happy life where he gets to be with simon and erik never died. meanwhile, in the real world, queen kristina is faced with an impossible decision about family, duty and love. what will happen when both worlds - wilhelm’s dream world and the real world - clash together?"

Get it off your chest, get it off my desk by cloudymilk

"Vincent hasn’t called him to stand since the time with Felice, although there have been multiple nights where Simon has slept over. He supposes that while one can assume, it’s not actually evident that he and Simon had sex during those times (even though they definitely have). There was no mistaking the way they’d left early the night before, however. No mistaking the darkened bruise on Wille’s neck. They’ve already received some smirks from the boys around them, cheekily asking them if they’d had a goodnight."

Ace of Hearts by Whiterabbit11 (Chapters 6/6)

"Eventually, Kristina realises that Wille is a mama's boy. An outsider POV of Wille and Simon through their years at Hillerska."

Yes, Your Highness by Osseus (Part 1)

"Simon is still as sure as he ever was that there is no need to have a Queen, or a King, or anything of the sort, but there is the slight problem—that the crown prince is fucking hot and there is a part of Simon that truly does want to worship the boy, get on his knees and let him use that power that was so unceremoniously given to him on Simon, for Simon. So yeah, maybe he has taken his ‘fuck the monarchy’ stance a bit too seriously. Simon maybe gets off on using Willes title and Wille gets off on Simon using it, that's it, that's the fic."

Kneel by Osseus (Part 2)

"Getting hit with the full force of the prince’s attention is addicting and Simon absolutely loves that he is the only person who gets that Wille, everyone gets the Crown Prince, but he is the only one who gets to have the prince, to be wrapped in that intensity and to be had by him. And this is a problem for Simon—because every time he sees his boyfriend walking around in all of his commanding, silently demanding, princely glory, he can’t get his mind out of the gutter. — Or, Simon is loosing his mind over how hot he finds Wille’s newfound confidence."

Undo me, unravel me by Osseus (Part 3)

"Simon can barely keep his eyes off his boyfriend, standing tall and proud under the attentive gaze of those in the room. Wille commands the space with nothing more than a cough and a gaze and it is fucking addicting watching him do it. Simon already knows that he is going to be a mess by the end of the night. — Or, Simon is obsessed with how good Wille looks when he is all dressed up and the Crown Prince knows it."

Nothing to Fear by HeartStaaahp (Chapters 35/?)

“But it was me.” A collection of different POVs taking place after season 2 of Young Royals. Basically random headcanons from what I think/hope could happen in season 3 and beyond, way into the future. Nothing but happy endings for my royal babies."

Screwed by fandom_commitment_issues (Chapters 26/26)

"Erik lived, but things are still Royally screwed up."

Love Bites by fandom_commitment_issues

"Wilhelm came out on live television a week ago. Spectacularly, and unexpectedly, and – in classic Wille fashion – stupidly. Simon gets a little handsy. The students of Hillerska are curious by nature. Or The Hickey Crack Fic no one asked for."

[veryloudbrain]

walter + henry "masterpost" (canon)

season 1

1x01 they sit together at dinner(?). before wille grabs their attention, they seem deep in conversation and HENRY GLANCES AT WALTER’S LIPS (im delulu ..but not really). this is their first canon interaction. i cannot make this shit up. i’m losing my mind. they sit together in class. they stick close (walter is fucking leaning on henry) at the very first party (after wille’s initiation). they’re both drinking. walter is spotted without henry for like a literal millisecond (idk where his mans went). walter and henry hang with stella and felice (at least until felice runs off to throw up lol) when wille is like,, crowdsurfing (using that term loosely) walter is not with henry mans lost him where is he.. (probably throwing up somewhere idk)

1x02 simon sits between them at lunch.

they sit together in class (on monday? the party was friday.. i assume)

math tests are handed out. they sit close and show their grades to eachother. (comparing results maybe ?)

wille mentions they take private lessons.. together ? over the weekend ? bro i cant defend them. (not that i want to)

henry joins rowing practice. they’re wearing MATCHING SHIRTS. i cannot make this shit up.

they’re both attending rowing practice still when august.. kisses simon (LMAO)

they debatably sit together at the movie night. they’re social distancing for some reason but no one is between them. henry looks over at walter (i’m delulu, he was probably looking at august) after The Jumpscare

1x03 the week after the horror movie (exact day unknown) henry sits with wille in class, but walter is in the seat literally next to him just,, with a space lol

(same week) they work out on the SAME GODDAMN MAT in p.e (either that or their mats are placed so close they don’t show a space.. idk which is gayer tbh)

they stick together during the parents day, but sit in different rows in church (..for some reason?)

after church neither of them are spotted interacting with any adult or even eachother in the background. they went ~poof~

i think you see walter entering his dorm? but it could be a different background actor honestly i don't know

for breakfast the day after: henry mentions to walter that his dad recognized his surname.

“no, i know” “how long have you known?” “i know because my… my dad recognized your surname”

this convo confirms to me that they didn’t know eachother before hillerska.

note: the convo was very light-hearted and henry was smiling (this has lead to theories about their parents having dated in the past, i also heard that uno, walter's actor, confirmed this but i haven't seen this for myself so i'm not sure)

1x04 they sit together while watching erik’s funeral on TV the Society "meeting". henry is never technically explicitly shown to drink or take pills but he seems inebriated and picks up a pack of pills from the table so i'm gonna assume he did both (so much fanfic potential i'm clawing at the walls)

1x05 they’re not sitting together in class, both having 2 desks by themselves until wille joins henry. walter is in the seat directly behind him. (side note: henry is wearing the same goddamn sweater he was at the Society meeting. was it washed or does he just stink of booze in class ? LMAO)

plot explained why they aren’t sitting together !! walter was meant to do a presentation with alexander and therefore left the seat for him.

they sit together again in class. this would be the week after the class they didn’t.

henry attends another Society “emergency meeting” (alexander was caught with the drugs) (this isn't walty but idc)

henry looks stressed/conflicted after the 2nd Society emergency meeting, but walks out with wille. (probably hard for him cause he can tell something’s going on between wille and simon, but pinning it on alexander is also a shitty thing to do)

they(walty) stand together outside before the whole lucia thing starts.

walter is fiddling with something with his left hand. it doesn’t show up in the shot, but henry is right there on his left. (they were obviously having a thumb war /j)

they’re both talking with wille after the lucia thing, but they’re so caught up in their conversations they don’t even bat an eye when wille’s whole life falls apart (it's not funny but it's really fucking funny)

1x06 at breakfast sometime after the video got out. henry and walter are talking abt how wilmon sat together at the movie night and that they talked abt it after.

h “remember the movie night?” w “yeah” h “when they sat next to eachother” w “exactly!” h “we talked abt that” w “yeah we talked abt that!”

(as if they weren’t also sitting next to eachother)

in class sometime that week (tuesday or later) they sit separate in class again. walter is gossiping (or just talking tbh idk) with some other students while henry sits alone. wille sits next to henry and henry attempts small talk with wille to cut the tension) (walty are once again only separated by the aisle lol)

they sit together in church on christmas day (or eve ? i’m not sure honestly)

they also talk together (+vincent och nils) outside church after. henry quickly noticed wilmon hugging (gay noticing gay frfr)

[i need it to be known this was initially written by me right after season 2 came out and i rewatched everything]

[heart-sized]

having a moment — r. lupin

★⺌◞. remus lupin x f!reader

plot : soft high school moment with your crush, remus lupin

cw : fluff content, non—hogwarts au, reader wears glasses

a/n : besties, this is inspired by real life events that happened to me omgjdheh

masterlist // moony masterlist

your stomach literally growled as the smell of homemade pasta filled your nose. oh, how you wanted to devour it. but one look at the wall clock and you knew that you had to hurry up. or else you would be late for school.

brushing your twin braids with your fingers and taking your school bag, you galloped towards the school. it had been much easier when you used to take the school bus. but money was tight and it's not like walking to school would do you any harm. yeah, right, except severe leg cramps.

the school wasn't much far and soon you found yourself stepping inside your first class. biology with miss felicity who was the complete antonym of her name. she was anything but lovable. your eyes found remus lupin sitting on the last desk and as usual, your heart skipped a beat. you felt something warm and fuzzy in your stomach.

your desk was just two desks ahead of him and somehow you loved this, knowing that it was the only proximity you could get.

you didn't know how it happened. you had known him since grade fifth and hadn't thought much of him. until sophomore year.

“y/n─” your best friend startled you. “─you are late!”

forcing your eyes back to your best friend, you gave her a guilty smile and slid down next to her. “i'm so sorry, lily. i got up late and could not even eat breakfast today!”

“aw, you poor baby,” lily caressed your hand gently. “by the way, do yo─”

“─why didn't you eat anything?” she was cut off by remus who was staring intently at you two, or more like, you.

in moments like these, you wished that your vocal cords wouldn't betray you, but alas. you loved how his words disturbed the rhythm of your pulse though.

“um, i got up late,” your words were fast and full of shyness and your eyes were not meeting his. something that you hated. maybe that's why remus avoided talking to you. who would ever want to talk to someone as pathetic to you?

you flung your eyes back to him and noted that he was still looking at you. his lips bent into a crooked smile as he pointed towards your best friend. “learn something from lily evans. she never forgets to eat at any cost.”

he was such a person. always playful and nice. something that popular boys weren't supposed to be. at least, not wattpad boys.

lily scowled. “please. i don't eat all the time! and stop cutting me off.”

a deep laughter vibrated from his chest and you sucked a breath. you almost felt jealous of your best friend. why, lily was the one making him laugh. when it should have been you. if you hadn't noticed so closely, you would have thought that he liked her. but that's not the case. their banter was playful, like that of siblings.

“where did you zone out?” you best friend asked as you turned back to your original positions. “that was a huge space out, by the way.”

“nothing much,” the lies rolled off easily. “just wondering about stuff.”

“stuff, hum?” lily had a roguish grin on her face. “sometimes i ponder if this ‘stuff’ is actually a guy.”

your heartbeat skyrocketed and your eyes widened visibly as you stared back at your best friend who was grinning ear to ear. what could you even tell her?

“of course not,” you waved your hand in dismissal, too guilty to stare at her. “lemme study now, okay?”

“okay ...” your best friend drawled in. “but i know what's up.”

“shut up!”

you were never the one to fond over physical labour. you'd rather sleep your day out rather than to engage in hiking or walking or whatever sort of stuff people used to do. walking back to home was not your forte. hell, your school bag felt too heavy and the distance much longer.

your only comfort was that remus would be near too. you two shared the same route till half the distance and usually, you'd walk slowly so you could gaze at him freely from behind.

but not today. there was no sight of him anywhere ahead of you and your mood was bitter, much like the nutritious drink in your hand.

today's so pathetic. you thought until you heard a voice calling out your name. well, it didn't turn pathetic at all.

“y/n─” you saw remus running towards you, his school bag on his back and his hair glistening with sweat. “─are you deaf or what?”

okay, you didn't expect him to say that.

“why?” you set your chin up high, meeting his gaze.

“because you're,” he ran his fingers over his hair. “i've been hollering your name like crazy for the past five minutes and you were walking along unaffected. now i'm confused whether you're actually deaf or i'm being ignored.”

the irony. you could never ever even think of ignoring him.

“i wasn't ignoring you,” you fixed your glasses up. “i was just lost in thought.”

“lost in thought and careless,” he commented as he fixed the strap of your school bag up which was lying low on your arm. you felt your arm burn at the touch of his fingers. “i wonder what goes inside your brain.”

how ironic it'd be if you answered it truly.

“i beg your pardon but not all of us have a genius mind like you.”

remus really had a photogenic memory, even though he claimed that he never studied.

“is that jealousy, i presume?” amusement laced his voice as he started walking along you. you mentally squirmed.

“of course not,” you mustered truthfully. “i don't get jealous over grades.”

“i know,” there was a faint trace of a smile on his face. “you don't care about my grades or the number of hours i study or what textbooks i use.”

“why would i?” you furrowed your eyebrows and then realised how rude you sounded. “i mean, why would i bother in someone's personal business? i'd much rather ask about you.”

crap. did you really blurt that out?

“would you now?”

“i didn't mean it in that way,” you punched your forehead lightly and he grinned at you.

“you silly girl,” he laughed and held your hands on his. “let us walk together”

walking together? was it a date? did remus like you or was it more of a 'i-pity-you-silly-girl' walk.

whatever. you were content with walking together.

“will you come to school tomorrow?” he slowly asked and your lips parted a bit. will it matter to you if i come or not? you almost blurted it out but stopped yourself on time.

“um, yeah, i don't like missing school.” because it's the only time i can see you.

" so do i. "

you looked up at his eyes and he looked back at yours. was this what they called 'having a moment' in wattpad? because if it was, then you very much loved having a moment with remus lupin.

ᝬ ˙.໑ ╱ © seducity 2023 — all rights reserved. property of suzu

[flnpushy]

Helios A New Era: Multiples

Kara was now headed back to her office after assisting Felicity with her birthing experience. As she turned the corridor to enter the lab and office area she was met by Dr. Karens standing in her office doorway. With Dr Karens was a cart loaded with testing instruments and lab equipment. Dr. Karens motioned Kara to come to the office. Kara entered and sat down on her desk chair. Karens stayed standing. It was clear something needed urgent attention in the facility. 

“Ok I am here to fill you in on your next assignment.’ Karens said. “I have been conducting an experiment never before done on Helios. Its been attempted on Alpha Centauri and Martian turf, but never here. Due to the increased demand we need to start playing with the idea of impregnating multiples with our semen impregnation. 13 months ago I began an experiment with two second-time mothers that volunteered. I didn’t want this to be a first birth experience so i needed two mothers with at least some birthing experience. I selected a multiples semen for these women and it took. Both are impregnated with twins. Each baby weighs between 17-19 pounds. Both mothers have been on bedrest for the last 9 months as their bellies are really too big to walk any distance.” Karens briefed. 

“Ok where do I come in?” Kara asked.

“Glad you asked!” Karens said. “Handling two mothers and taking data for both accurately would be impossible. I need you to take the metrics and assist with one mother, while I assist the other. I have sent you instructions for the metrics that we need to take. We will be using all this equipment and taking every measurement and line of data we can. We need to know how to implement this on a large scale. but do it with welfare of the mother and babies in mind.” Karens said.

“Ok i think i can handle this!” Kara exclaimed. 

“Stay humble, we need this data, it’s vital to this facility.” Karens said. “And oh yeah, one more thing , both mothers are in accelerated labor to ensure the babies don’t get any bigger inside them. the should begin the birth process in the next few hours. Get there, and get started. If you need help i will be in the next room over, call for backup if needed.” Karens said as she walked out the office door. 

Kara was excited about this mission. Birthing twins was new for Helios and Kara was always excited to be a part of a new project! She gathered her tools, a bite to eat, and her personal items, grabbed the cart of testing equipment and headed for the mothers room. 

Navigating Helios was a chore in itself. The facility was large…. very large. Over 100 acres in size. It could be seen on the lunar surface from hundreds of miles up in the black space above. Kara however knew most of the facility like clockwork. She walked to her transport scooter, hitched on the cart and sped away. Of course being a vice president scientist had its perks, but it also came with its downfalls. Kara was constantly stopped by mothers with questions as she traveled around. This time was no exception. As kara turned down the Central Hall toward the gardens she was stopped by a pregnant mother asking about her birthing issues. 

“ Hey Kara, ive been in birth now for 3 days and I still cant feel any progress.” The women asked. “Can you check me?” 

“Of course, I am very busy, but I will always make time for a birthing mother!” Kara replied.

Kara got off of the scooter and grabbed her probe. The woman spread her legs. Kara pushed the tip of the probe into the woman’s opening until it stopped. 

“Well found babies head!” Kara said. “Little ways in there yet!” 

The probe gave back its findings. 

“Ok girl, babies doing good. 20 pounder, healthy, coming normally.” Kara reported. 

“ I just cant push her out of there!” The woman said. 

“You will hun, I suggest a birth stool and some hard pushing, She will come, just taking her sweet time!” Kara said. “Any issues, let us know.” 

Kara got back on the scooter and sped off toward the living quarters. 

The living facilities at the station were just as large as the station. Housing 2500 pregnant women as well as staff. All rooms were well equipped, but pregnant mothers rooms were among the finest. Helios wanted absolute comfort for pregnant and birthing mothers. 

Kara turned from the Garden Hall into the living quarters. She then drove onto an elevator. The elevator landed at floor 3. Kara left the lift and headed for 314-S-1M. When she arrived she scanned herself at the airlock door, and made her way into the room. 

Inside the room she saw a woman facing the other direction. She looked to be sleeping. Kara only noticed her blonde hair showing from under the thick white blankets. Kara approached slowly pulling the cart of equipment behind her. The cart suddenly made a clunk on the self-cleaning membrane floor below.

“Oops.” Kara said aloud.

She noticed the woman move. The woman turned and looked. 

“Hello?” She asked faintly. 

“Hello, Im Kara, here to assist you!” Kara said. 

“Karens must have sent you?” The woman asked. 

“Yes, she has appointed me to be your assist, as well as take data.” Kara said. 

“Ok, i am Sara by the way.” She said.

“Good to meet you Sara!” Kara said in return. 

Kara moved over by the bed and got closer to Sara. 

“So you want to see the full me haha?” Sara laughed. 

“Yeah lets see that belly!” Kara said 

Sara pulled back the covers to reveal herself in the bed. Sara was a small framed girl, maybe 5 foot 3. Her belly was massive! Even larger than Kara’s belly when she was impregnated with her 31 pound record baby!

“Wow two big babies in there!” Kara said surprised. 

“Yeah, i really haven’t moved much now in a couple months. Im just too big” Sara said. 

“This is your second time birthing right?” Kara asked. 

“Yeah second time, Thank goodness. Imagine pushing out two 19 pound babies for your first time?” Sara remarked.

“Yeah that would be crazy!” Kara said. 

“Have you started contractions?” Kara asked.

“Yes, been in labor now for a week, Im supposed to start pushing in the next hours.” Sara said. 

“Well are you ready?” Kara asked. 

“Yes! I want to get these babies out!” Sara said acting exhausted from supporting the babies in her belly. 

“Ok, well lets get you hooked up to the testing equipment and get you ready to do some pushing!” Kara said. 

“Karens warned me there would be a lot of testing and instruments.” Sara remarked.

“Yes there will be.” Kara replied. 

“Ok, I agreed to this haha!” Sara said. 

“Ok hun, lets have you raise up your top leg, you can stay side laying.” Kara said. 

Sara lifted her top leg and held it up. This opened her vagina area for Kara to begin working with the testing equipment. 

First Kara took a monitoring probe and put it in Sara’s opening. This was designed to come out as the baby did and keep track of many metrics including, the health of the baby, positioning, pushing force and exertion, movements of the baby, and more. The probe was now against the cervix which was dilated fully and ready for Sara to push! The next tool was attached to Sara’s belly with medical tape to monitor contractions and baby movements. Kara then loaded the devices which all of course were wireless. This was the year 3150, there were no cables! Kara took initial notes on her findings. Baby number ones head was now opening the cervix. It was time for this event to happen. However Kara knew birthing both babies could take several days. This wasn’t normally an issue, but with twins, this gave more time for baby number two to grow even larger while baby number one was being pushed out.

“Ok Sara lets have you try some pushing!” Kara said. “I want to test the equipment and make sure all is well.” 

Sara breathed in and made a grunt as she began her first push. Kara noted that the instruments were indeed working well, but she was worried. Sara’s push exertion was quite low despite putting obvious effort into her push. Kara knew this was to be a long birth.

As Sara wrapped up her first push she was still contracting. She bore down once more. Kara could see activity in her large belly. Baby number two was still fully in the womb and kicking around. Meanwhile baby number one’s head was starting to move through the cervix and into the vagina for Sara to start pushing it free. Sara was averaging a contraction every few minutes and according to the instrumentation was making slow progress. The pressure sensor that Kara had inserted was now touching the babies head. The sensor would then attach lightly to the head so that all metrics could be monitored, even if the baby slipped back. 

Two hours had passed now and Sara was still actively pushing. She was pushing hard, almost as hard as she could muster, but baby number one wasn’t moving. The head was now through the cervix but had been for an hour. Another 45 minutes passed. 

“Is he moving in there at all?” Sara asked.

“Yes, he’s moving, but slowly.” Kara said. 

“Well baby number two sure is active, i can feel him kicking and squirming wanting to get out!” Sara said. 

“Sorry baby 2 but baby one has to come out first!” Kara said. 

Kara was actively logging data as Sara pushed. Another 2 hours passed. Finally some progress was happening. When Sara pushed Kara noticed her perineum area bulging. This meant baby was getting close to making an appearance. Sara was toughing it out and she had been continually in the same position for hours now. Finally Sara Tired of her position and asked to be moved to a birth stool. Kara helped guide her safely to a birth stool in the room. Sara sat down and got comfortable. The birth stool opening was wide and this caused Sara’s smaller hips to sink in a bit. She Made a couple pushes.

“Im worried that the additional pressure from your seating position may restrict the baby from coming out.” Kara said. 

Kara decided that Sara needed to change position once more. It was decided that Sara had no choice but to lay on her back and push. Her belly was simply too big, and her hips to small to allow many other options.

Another 2 hours passed. Sara was still pushing triumphantly, but progress was crazy slow.  Finally Kara noticed movement of her opening as Sara gave a push. Kara noticed the lip of her labia curl out slightly with the push. The babies head was just inside now. Kara’s data instruments were constantly logging data of the birthing action. The biggest metric being logged was that of pushing force and how much it made the baby move. The lower the force the less baby should move, the higher the force the move movement that should occur. A big push with no movement was recorded as a struggle. The second was the data from the second baby. If the second baby was in too long it would continue to grow in size making it even harder to push out. With a decent diet from mom, the babies she carried could grow 1/4 pound to 1/2 pound per day inside. 

Sara’s next push yielded results. As she pushed she could see a tiny sliver of the head appear in the opening. It was surrounded by the bag of waters that still had not broken. It was likely this baby could be born in the sac. The little head wiggled from side to side before being sucked back in Sara’s belly. Sara’s tummy was a hive of activity. Baby number 2 was still kicking and squirming for a chance to get out. Meanwhile baby one with its head now in Sara’s vagina was kicking and having its own struggle trying to get unstuck and out of Sara. 

“Oh somethings happening…!” Sara said. “It feels different now.” 

Sara pushed a few times with nothing to show for it. However the next push brought forth the Sac. Sara pushed again and the sac came out. The sac was large and fluid filled, it dangled from Sara’s opening. 

“I need to stand.” Sara requested. 

“Ok what ever feels best for you.” Kara replied. 

Sara stood up carefully as to not disturb the sac that was hanging out of her. As she stood more sac came out and now dangled around 8 inches out of Sara’s opening. It was very full of opaque colored fluid. As Sara stood the sac wiggled and jiggled about. Sara took a couple steps but as she did the sac slapped the inside of her thighs. 

“Oh that tickles!” Sara said. 

“It must feel really weird.” Kara replied.

Sara made a couple pushes standing up but nothing much really progressed. 10 minutes later Sara laid back in bed. The sac still hanging below her opening. 

“Data alert.” One of Kara’s instruments said aloud.

“Hmmm let's see what going on here.” Kara said. 

“Baby 2 has gained 1/2 pound in last 24 hours.” The display read.

“We need to get baby one progressing.” Kara said.

“Im trying the best I can.” Sara said. 

“I know hun, but I’m worried about baby number 2 getting bigger in there.” Kara said. Sara made more pushes and Kara noticed her bulging. 

“Lets take a look in there.” Kara said. 

Kara moved over from the side of the birth bed to Sara’s open legs. She used both hands and spread open Sara’s labia. There, about 1.5 inches in was a tuft of babies hair. Kara let go and watched as the skin around the babies head closed and sealed it back in Sara’s vagina. The reality was is not much progress had been made in 12 hours. 

Sara continued to make pushes for another 4 hours till finally a small breakthrough. Kara watched intently as Sara grunted a large push, Sara could feel what was happening in her opening and knew the babies head was about to make its first appearance. 

“AAAAAAAAAHHHHMMMMMM!” Sara grunted.

“Good Good!” Kara said. 

A small tuft of babies hair poked out from Sara’s vagina. The push ended and the head was immediately sucked back in her belly. It was frustrating, but good to see progress. Time continued on and Kara kept taking notes and data. 

11:00 - Baby makes small appearance, withdraws. 

11:10 - Small bit of head comes forth, withdraws

11:15 - Mother closes legs and takes break. Baby assumed withdrawn.

11:30 - pushing actively, no head 

11:50 - head appears 

11:52 - head goes back in. 

12:10 - pushing 

12:12 - head appears

12:13 - head slips back 

12:20 - head visible with push 

12:22 - head slips back in 

The time continued to trickle by as Sara continued struggling to get baby number 1 out. Another 4 hours passed. Kara noted over 100 notes of slip ins and pushes in this time. It was clear that Sara was truly struggling to get the first baby to come out. Baby number 2 continued to wiggle around in the womb and grow, while its brother remained stuck in the birth canal. Sara helplessly continued to push to free baby number 1, but it was making zero progress besides slipping back in. Baby one was wiggling and kicking as Sara pushed in an effort to free itself from Sara. She could feel its kicks as it made desperate attempts to free itself. But it was no help, the baby was stuck, or simply to big to fit. Sara desperately needed to stretch more in order to free the baby. 

“You need to stand and walk.” Kara said. “We need to make room or get baby one to free up in there.” 

Sara struggled to get on her feet as her massive belly protruded from her small frame. Kara watched the babies head slip back in as Sara got up. The baby was once again sealed inside. Sara got on her feet and began to walk around a bit. She paced the room slowly, moving her hips and wiggling in attempt to get baby number one to come free. Meanwhile baby 2 was moving frantically in the belly. Kara could see it kicking rapidly, It also desperately wanted to come out. Sara positioned herself at a seat bar in the room after pacing for a bout 20 minutes. It was time to see if he walking had helped. She squatted down into full push. Sara continued pushing for a few minutes until finally baby one made an appearance in her vaginal opening. It stayed there momentarily until it slipped back in. 

“GET IT OUT!!” Sara yelped. 

Sara had finally become impatient She made a desperate push.

“AAAHHHHHHHHHGGGGG!!” She yelled.

The head made a quick appearance then slowly went back in.

“I cant do it Kara.” Sara admitted. 

“Um you don’t really have a choice Sara, You have 2 babies in you that need to come out.” Kara said. 

“Is there anything you can do?” Sara asked.

“No, you can only get the babies out under your own power.” Kara replied. 

Sara returned to pushing. After another hour the babies head was now staying down. The top of the head was now poking out a little ways. It was progress. Another hour passed and no matter the push, the babies head didn’t budge. The head remained poking out slightly. Kara received another update to her system link. Baby number 2 inside Sara’s tummy had gained another half pound in weight. Baby number two was getting only bigger, and harder to push out. Things were about to get worse for Sara. Another strong contraction came and Sara pushed hard. She felt a very painful searing sensation from her belly. 

“Ahhhh ouch ahhhh!” Sara yelped in pain. 

Kara’s sensors went mad with updates. Baby 2 had turned breech. 

This wasn’t a big deal however considering breech births were common on Helios. Sara was about to receive a break. After an additional hour of pushing she was actually beginning to crown. Sara was stretched to the max, the skin around the babies tightly held head was white with the pressure. Sara gathered up and made one massive push. The head popped free! Still riding the wave she pushed again popping one shoulder out. The other followed. This was super rare. Usually with a 20 pound baby the shoulders could take 12-24 hours to come out! This was rare, but Sara was delighted by it. Baby one was now out and taken to the next facility by helios security. Now it was time for baby number 2.

Baby number 2 was now almost 22 pounds and was turned breech. It looked like a tough go for Sara. However within a few hours of baby one. Baby 2 was moving its way into the birth canal feet first. Sara was getting strong contractions, but not needing to push much to advance the large baby. Another 4 hours passed. Finally it was pushing time for baby number 2. Sara now free of one baby felt more active and able to move around easier. She moved to an all 4s position on the bed to begin the pushes. Sara was beginning to have some effect on moving the 22 pound baby through her birth canal. Within 3 hours the baby had gone from in the belly to having its feet in the vaginal canal through the cervix. It was only a matter of time until the baby would be making its first appearance. Another hour of constant pushing came and went. Then finally.

“We have a foot!” Kara said as Sara grunts through a push.

Sara kept pushing until the contraction ended. The foot was sucked back inside. The next contraction brought the foot forth once more. Only to be pulled back in with the end of the push. A few pushes later, and a few more foot sightings, the second foot began to emerge as Sara contracted. After a couple more pushes, the legs emerged to the knees. A couple more contractions did nothing to progress, but finally the legs turned into a waist, and eventually the belly came out. Now just the shoulders and head remained in Sara’s birth canal. The shoulders were no big deal, two more pushes had them out. Now just babies head was inside. Sara worked at it a bit but without much luck. Being stretched out from baby one was helping progress, but the head was quite large. It would be a stretch to get it out. As Sara struggled the baby attempted to help. The baby, with its head still stuck in Sara, began wiggling around its legs and arms attempting to free itself. A few moments passed. It was decided that Sara needed to change position to assist the head out. Kara helped her onto a birth stool. The babies body hung below her as she stood up to make the move. Then baby continued to wiggle around. Sara sat on the stool and began pushing once more. The lower head was now coming a bit. Sara pushed hard and it came some more. Another 20 minutes passed. One more push had it. The baby came free and the experiment was complete. Kara had successfully tracked one more experiment. 

[willesredlights]

Sunday Snippet

A 'little' Sunday snippet from a fic I'm writing for kinktober. Yes another university fic. Photography student Wille is having a massive crush on history student Simon.

He sees how Simon is thinking about his proposal. “Do I get something in return?”, Simon asks with a cheeky smile and at this point Wilhelm isn’t sure if he is flirting with him. “Uhm, well, I’ll be forever grateful if you help me with this so of course I’ll do anything in return if you need help or anything”, Wilhelm says, fiddling with his hands, his cheeks red. “Okay”, Simon simply says. “Okay what?”, Wilhelm asks. “Okay I will be your model, now when and where do I have to be?”, Simon asks. Wilhelm never thought this would go so smooth, that Simon actually would do this. “What about tonight at eight by the photography studio’s? We can use them whenever we want and well it will be very quiet then”, Wilhelm says. “Okay, see you tonight Wille”, Simon says with the biggest smile and walks away. Wilhelm is glued to the ground, astonished by what just happened. All he can do is watch how his crush walks away from him until he disappears through a door. What.the.hell.happend. *** “So he is doing it?”, Felice asks excited on the other side of the phone. “He is”, Wilhelm says while he is reading through the assignment again “Oh my god, I can’t believe this is finally happening!”, Felice squeals. “Don’t act as if we’re going on a date”, Wilhelm rolls his eyes. “Who says you’re not going on a date soon?”, his best friend asks playful. “Shut up, it felt like I was dying standing next to him. All I could look at was that beautiful smile. Also I can’t believe I called him gorgeous”, Wilhelm tells her. “You called him what?!”, Felice screams through the phone.  Felice rambles on about Wilhelm’s crush on Simon while Wilhelm reads a sentence that he missed the first few times he read the assignment. How could he have missed this? If he had known this he would’ve never asked Simon to pose for him. He reads the sentence over and over again but the words are really there.  “One photo needs to be a nude portrait of your model” “Shit, shit shit. No this can’t be true”, Wilhelm lets his head fall on his desk followed by a loud groan. “What happened?”, Felice asks ove the phone. “I have to cancel this, I can’t ask this from Simon”, is all Wilhelm says, his eyes still scanning over the sentence. “You can’t ask what from Simon?”, Felice asks. Wilhelm sighs, getting his hand through his hair. “Felice, apparently one photo is a nude portrait. I have to photograph him naked”, he says. His best friend stays silent for a few seconds. “Well see it from the bright sight, you’ll get to see your crush naked”, Felice tries to cheer him up. “Not helping Felice. Not. Helping”, he sighs again, “This is going to be a disaster”.

[youngroyals-hc]

Wille gets a call from the royal court at stupid o'clock in the morning, which he promptly ignores, but the 5th time they call back he groans and realises they're not going to go away. He begrudgingly answers the call, slipping on tracksuit pants and a hoodie and blowing a kiss to Simon who watches his boyfriend go regretfully.

A few hours later and he still hasn't returned; Simon is sitting at breakfast making small talk with the Forest Ridge boys but continually glancing up at the door whenever anyone walked in, hoping it would be him. 10 minutes before breakfast closes he decides that the prince won't be coming, so he gets up and makes him a sandwich and heads to class.

Wille arrives at class 20 minutes late looking cranky and tired. He slips into his seat next to his boyfriend and drops his head to Simon's shoulder for the briefest moment before getting his books out and staring blank-eyed at the teacher. Simon reaches out and puts his hand on Wille's thigh, rubbing lightly with his thumb to comfort his boyfriend. Wille's grimace turns into a tiny smile as he traces the lengths of Simon's fingers with his own under the desk.

A few minutes later the teacher instructs them to get into small discussion groups and find somewhere to work. Wille turns and looks at Felice and Fredrika, gesturing with his head as he stands up, holding Simon's hand for just a moment and giving it a gentle tug. The four of them head towards the library and sit down at the desks. Simon takes the opportunity to reach into his bag and place the sandwich on the table in front of Wille, quickly kissing his cheek and smoothing back his (rapidly growing) hair behind his ear. Wille looks for a second like he is about to cry, before quietly whispering "Tack, Simme" and gently unwrapping the green paper.

As the four friends sit and discuss the structure of the Riksdag, Wille nibbles on his food, and his mood slowly starts to rise. He still sits quietly for the most part (years of being told not to share his political opinions is not an easy habit to break), but he nods along to what Simon says and gives him encouraging smiles, especially when Fredrika says something misguided and Simon tries to hold in his annoyance as he explains his point of view.

The class ends and the boys gather up their belongings and walk down the corridors of Hillerska.

"So what did they want this time?" Simon says gently.

"They're still trying to convince me to do Military service like Erik did. I just can't Simon, I can't imagine spending 12 months learning how to hurt other people, even if it is just for show. Why can't they just let me take alternative service and let me actually do something good instead?" Wille's voice rises in panic as he speaks, and Simon pulls him aside and into a nook in the hallway.

"Wille, they can't make you do anything. If you object publicly, what could they do about it?"

"Make my life more hell than it already is" Wille replies miserably.

"Maybe... Or maybe, you could put a spin on this. Think about it. Showing alternative service as a valid option to those who view it just as an excuse. We could do some really public acts during it, invite the press. Surely the court will see that as a positive impact on your image?" Simon says, taking his boyfriend's hand with his while circling his other over Wille's shoulder and chest to calm him.

"I couldn't ask you to do that Simon, I know how much you hate the press." Wille says sadly, but less dejectedly than before.

"You're not asking me, I'm offering älskling. Plus, it gets me out of the conversation too; I'm certain they were warming up to that."

Wille huffs out a breath and leans in closer to Simon.

"Will you ask them, mi amor? Next time they call, be super positive and tell them all the things you will do and why it's a good idea. I'm sure you can win them round."

"What would I do without you, my Simon?" Wille says, finally circling his arms around his boyfriend's waist and hugging him tightly.

"Well, for a start, not eat breakfast I suppose" Simon teases back, and it earns a laugh from Wille.

"Come on Wille, military service can wait but I don't think Mr Englund can" Simon says, breaking away and leading Wille back into the hall as the other boy groans and starts spewing complaints about their teacher instead.

[saynomorefic]

Day 8: Identity / Discrimination for Simon's Month 2024, hosted by the lovely @youngroyals-events

Simon (finally) gets interviewed about his experience with discrimination and harassment at Hillerska.

Read on ao3 (above) or below the cut <3 (1k, T)

CW: brief mentions of racism, homophobia and *the* video

"We were told that you are one of the first people we should speak to.” A tall white woman with brown hair and glasses sat across from Simon, taking a sip of her coffee. Boris sat to her left, looking at Simon for any sign of discomfort. 

“Mhm.” Simon shifted on the edge of the stiff leather chair. Felice told him the gist of what they were going to ask him about, but he still felt shaken. He realized that he hadn't actually told anyone the whole picture before, and doing so for this committee assessment felt sterile and unwelcoming. 

“Where shall we begin?” The woman folded her hands together. Simon looked back at her. Was she just expecting him to write her a memoir? 

Boris cleared his throat. “Perhaps, Simon can start with the beginning of his time at Hillerska.” 

Grateful for the direction, Simon unfolded his hands and thought back. “In the beginning, I knew Sara and I were outsiders.” He focused on the tapping sound where the woman's pencil hit the desk. It felt like such a long time ago. “But I didn't think it would get as bad as it did.”

The woman's brow knit for a moment, and then seeming to remember herself, her face dropped to a neutral expression. “Outsiders? How so?”

Simon laughed. Actually laughed. He couldn't help it. He gestured down at himself. “Do I look like I belong here?” 

“Can you be a bit more - specific?” She asked, unamused. 

“Sure. It was the small things at first. I could feel the way they looked at us. Sometimes people would point at us when we were walking to class from the bus stop, or stare at the clothes we wear. In the beginning, it was easy to pretend I didn't see it. Marieberg had its problems, too. My sister got bullied there.” He paused. The woman was jotting something down, 

“Then, the verbal harassment started. I just thought it was people testing me, the new, non-res kid. But they’d say that word like it was dirty. Non-res. And then August started calling me sosse, because I happened to speak up aboit social issues in class.” 

“This term, sosse, is an abbreviation for socialist. But it is also has a somewhat racialized component, because Simon's mother is from Venezuela,” Boris provided. The assessor wrote something down. 

“And did you ever report this behavior?” She asked, pushing her glasses further up her nose and looking condescendingly at him. Simon wanted to yell. 

“No, I did not,” he said emphatically. Boris looked back and forth between them like he was watching a game of ping pong. 

“And may I ask why you didn't report this behavior?” Simon crossed his arms over his chest defensively. 

“Because they were being jerks. Nothing to write home about. It's not a surprise that the wealthiest school in Sweden would have a bullying or class problem.” He stared daggers at her.

The woman looked at him, finally, right in his eyes. “Mr. Eriksson. I understand your frustration. Your experience is valuable to us -”

“Yeah, and how long did it take for Hillerska to give a fuck about its minorities? Until the world found out that the little princes had gotten hazed?” Boris coughed loudly.

“Mr. Eriksson -”

“My name is Simon. Mr. Eriksson is my father.” 

“Simon,” she sighed, then smiled tightly. “I am truly, truly sorry for your experience. But things will not improve if Hillerska does not know what to fix, or how to fix it. That's where you and I come in. So please, if you will, this should only take a few more minutes.”

Boris looked at him questioningly, a silent confirmation that Simon was alright. He nodded back curtly. “What else do you want to know?” 

The woman picked up a stack of files and began to read. “It says here you were a victim of child pornography, potentially recorded by another student. Did your experience with harassment, verbal or physical, change at Hillerska after this event?”

“Excuse me, but this is entering highly sensitive, private territory involving minors and an active court case. Simon should not have to -”

“It's okay.” He took a breath. “For one, all of Hillerska knew what I looked like naked, and who was in my bed. Once Wilhelm came forward, the things people would say about me online - vile, disgusting comments about me being gay, or a class traitor, or about my race - were ten times worse. Most people at Hillerska just said those same things behind my back because of who I was dating. You can write that down,” he said, looking pointedly at her notepad. 

“I see,” she commented. “And did the school do anything to address this situation?” 

At this point, Boris began to look nervous. Hillerska did jack shit, and he knew it. They were too busy attempting to not get the school shut down over the scandal that victimized their inner sanctum, and breaking up a blood feud between the two next in line for the Swedish crown. 

“No,” he said, crossing his arms and looking out the window. 

“Hmm.” The woman paused for a moment, looking down at the papers in front of her. “I am sorry, Mr. - Simon - that your school did not attempt to provide you with the proper resources after such a traumatic event.” Simon averted his eyes towards her, a surprising amount of emotion on her face like a break in the clouds. 

“Thank you,” he said, looking at Boris. 

“And I am sorry, too, that priorities were elsewhere,” he stated, folding one of his legs over the other. “It was unacceptable.” He looked embarrassed. Simon felt his throat constrict. 

“Are we done?” He asked, looking back and forth between them. The woman looked at Boris and said something quietly. He shook his head. 

“You can go now, Simon. Thank you very much.” Boris’s eyes flashed kindly at him. He left the room in a daze, ambling towards his locker to collect his things. Sara planned to meet him afterwards; he couldn't imagine talking to anyone else about what had just happened. 

“Hey,” Alexander said, brushing past Simon in the hallway. 

“Hey,” Simon muttered, turning to watch him walking away. He was headed quite purposefully towards Boris' office.