#he lets it play all day in the background and just zones out - maybe sings a line or two when it catches his attention again

[babybeel]

music matchups time!!

1) jackrabbit - san fermin

2) spiral of ants - lemon demon

3) poor george - james supercave

hopefully this is alright! i tried to keep the genre semi-consistent, because otherwise we'd be here for ages lmfao. anyways, congrats on 1k!!

your music match up is...  — BELPHEGOR!

song rec: i think i left the stove on - hotel ugly

[jinnie-ret]

fallen angel

stray kids x ninth member!reader (platonic)

genre: hurt/comfort, some fluff at the end

content warnings: injury, hyunjin hiatus (but he still makes an appearance)

word count: 3k

If you enjoy feel free to send in requests as my asks are open! And let me know if you would like to join the taglist for when I upload more imagines :)

the stray kids members have two maknaes to comfort at the end of their 'I'll Be Your Man' cover. One upset because he thought he wasn't good enough, and the other an injured, fallen angel, left hurt because MNET hadn't done enough safety checks on their equipment.

pt 2

MAIN MASTERLIST

Practising the vocals for 'I'll Be Your Man' was difficult enough, trying to learn the choreography alongside it was hard too. But performing said choreography whilst being lifted in a harness too was even more difficult.

Y/N would be lying if she said she wasn't nervous. No, it wasn't to do with the heights, she could cope with that, but it was more the precision of her dance, and the fact that she would be hitting a high note in the air at the same time, having her own solo moment to shine. Maybe it would be different if they had multiple takes to make sure they got the right one. But with Kingdom, they didn't. She only had so many practices to ensure it looked perfect in front of her sunbaenims and friends. Yeosang and Wooyoung from ATEEZ had kept reminding her they were excited to see her performance. In the normal way, this would be encouraging, this time round, it only felt more daunting.

So when it came to the day of the performance, Y/N was unable to hide her nerves shining through.

"Y/Nnie, you good?" Han appeared in front of her, big brown eyes shining in concern as he watched the younger member zoned out in her own world.

"Huh? Oh yeah..." Y/N said dismissively, not really entirely sure how she felt right now, but her emotions showed more on the outside than on the inside right now.

"You've practiced this a billion times, you've got this," Han encouraged her, his hand resting on her shoulder whilst stylists were around the two making last minute adjustments to their outfits before they went on stage.

"Okay okay, I can do this," Y/N nodded, trying to hype herself up for the performance, breathing away her worries.

"Hannie! Y/Nnie!" Changbin loudly called them over to their group huddle where the rest of the members were gathered.

Y/N gave Han a thankful smile before they joined the others in the circle, Y/N slotting herself between Felix and Seungmin.

"Right, let's do our best, stay safe, and deliver what Stray Kids do best! Let's go! Hwaiting!" Chan led the small talk before they all cheered each other on and got into position on stage.

Y/N didn't have a part until the first group choreography part of the performance, where Han and Lee Know sang the chorus and led them through the gates. Felix, Han and Changbin then had their rap parts in a more hellish scene, where a dance break ensued, Y/N running off halfway through it like she was meant to, to get into position.

She was quickly harnessed by their supporting dancers and got ready for her solo part. As soon as she heard Lee Know sing out 'baby I just pray', she was slowly lifted into the air. Instrumental music played as she rose upward, stretching out her arms and legs and creating beautiful moments with them. And when her arms swooped across her long black hair, the other groups who were watching backstage were shocked to see it was a wig that was knocked off, revealing long white hair instead. As she rose higher, some large wings appeared on the screen behind her.

"Oh my god her hair!"

"Wow she's an angel!"

"That's my best friend! Let's go Y/Nnie!"

"So pretty..."

Now risen at the highest point in the air, Y/N began singing too, beautiful vocal runs flowing along with the violin in the background. Her moves ranged from static to more elegant moves too, and she feigned an expression as part of the performance like her soul had been taken away from her, sacrificed for the young boy to align with the storyline of the performance. She was then lowered as her movements became more frantic and dramatic, showing the desperate need to have saved a soul. At the same time, her wings dissolved behind her, the screen turning darker behind her.

"She's a fallen angel! Wow!"

"Oh wow..."

She continued to be lowered, and Y/N was beginning to feel a bit nervous now because she swore she heard a slight ripping sound from the cord she was attached to, yet she continued performing. It was until she was still 6ft in the air, that the cord actually did snap, and Y/N was forced to act quickly despite her shock to try and land. Despite the impact going straight through her left ankle, Y/N continued dancing until the camera panned away again, panting before realising she'd have to dance some more at the end of their performance too. She tried her best to keep her tears at bay, moving across the stage the best she could as she limped over to the rest of the boys. None of them noticed however, as they were in performance mode and hadn't seen her part of the stage from getting ready themselves for the next. And even the groups backstage had seemed to think the drop from the harness was planned, like it was part of her fallen angel character.

Her left foot was in agony, yet she kept going, her body twisting and turning whilst Han and Seungmin sung their hearts out, and Changbin rapped incredibly fast. She was relieved once it came to the end, and they were able to collapse to the ground, because ever since she fell that was all she wanted to do.

Once the lights came up, she cried out, hands over her face. It was then that she noticed she was finding it hard to breathe too, and she didn't know if it was another injury or if she was in so much pain from her ankle.

"Y/N what's happened?" Lee Know crouched down next to Y/N, thinking she was upset and tried to help her up but then she cried out in pain again.

"What's happened? Are you hurt?" Felix panicked, seeing the tears coming from the younger member.

Staff members from MNET rushed over, catching the attention of the other members.

"What's going on?" Changbin asked confused and worried.

A higher up crew member approached the group and began to explain what happened.

"There was a fault with the harness, the cord snapped as she was being lowered and so she suffered a slight fall. Good news is she landed it well so it still looked good on camera," they hurriedly tried to reassure the rest of the group, but their words did anything but that.

"She fell?!" Seungmin looked across at Y/N who was being comforted by a now angry looking Lee Know and a more worried Felix. Jeongin, who wasn't feeling too good about his own performance, looked worried for his fellow maknae.

"The harness broke?!? Why didn't you check it was safe?!" Chan exploded in anger at the MNET staff, because now one of his members was injured.

Whilst he continued to rant angrily at the staff, Han trying to calm him down, the rest of the boys gathered around Y/N.

"Ah it hurts," she cried through stuttered breaths, top half leant against Changbin as he had lifted her slightly into his arms. He rubbed soothing circles into her hands which gripped onto his so tightly.

"Where, Y/N? Can you tell us where it hurts, love?" Felix rushed out his words concerned for her, seeing the tears roll down her face.

"Landed on my ankle," Y/N whimpered, her breaths coming out short.

"Y/N you need to calm down, okay?" Seungmin patted her arm, thinking that she was working herself up even more, and not wanting her to feel even worse.

"Get a doctor here then!" Chan was heard shouting, which only made Y/N more upset.

"Hey, hey, hey, it's going to be okay, yeah?" Changbin reassured her gently, squeezing her hands tighter.

"W-what if I can't join the next performance?" Y/N shakily asked, eyes flitting back and forth between the boys who were her real comfort right now.

"We'll worry about that later. We're more concerned about you right now, Y/Nnie. Just breathe sweetheart, can you do that, hmm?" Lee Know spoke calmly, slowly taking off her shoe to reveal a swollen and bruised ankle.

"I'm trying to b-but it hurts to," Y/N says through stuttered breaths, tears still falling down her face.

"There's not a doctor here yet?" Jeongin questioned, wondering why someone on set hadn't arrived quicker.

"They should be coming over now," Chan informed them, before grabbing one of Y/N's hands, "we're going to get you some help, yeah? Just take some nice deep breaths, Y/Nnie."

Chan gave her the same advice as the others yet it wasn't working. Y/N knew it wasn't her panicking, but something worse.

"We keep trying to calm her down but she says it hurts when she breathes," Felix looks up Chan worriedly, and sees Han to the left of him with his clasped together nervously.

Some medical staff finally came over and lifted her onto a small bed to move her backstage and look at her properly. Y/N couldn't help but let out more whimpers of pain and the members tried to reassure her as they followed along.

"Only one person in here please," the standby doctor informed the boys, and that was when they decided Seungmin should go in with her. He was the most grounded at the moment, the other members either being too angry, worried or upset to remain calm like Y/N needed.

Seungmin gently held Y/N's hand as the doctors checked over her. With a slight press into her ribs, Y/N let out a loud yell of pain, Seungmin immediately whispering reassuring words to her and gently petting her hair.

"It's okay, it's okay, they're just making sure you're okay, Y/Nnie," he stumbled over his words, now wishing someone else was in his position instead because he feared he wasn't doing enough to comfort the younger girl and he hated seeing her like this.

"We fear you may have a bruised rib, Miss Y/N, you're going to have to seek medical help from a hospital," the doctor shook his head, regretfully informing them.

"No, no, I can't, what about the next performance, can't let the team down," Y/N cried, which was making her ribs hurt even more from the slight jolting of her body.

"Y/Nnie, it's okay, we'll figure out, but you need to calm down, jagi, because you'll hurt yourself more," Seungmin made sure she was looking at him as he said this, wiping her tears away with his thumbs, stroking her face gently.

"B-but-"

"Ssshh, please don't cry Y/Nnie, we'll get you to a hospital and then we worry about the future, okay, come on now, that's it, well done," Seungmin helped her to relax, an arm gently wrapped around her shoulders as he stroked her hair to calm her down.

Whilst Y/N's examination was happening, Chan had noticed Jeongin's upset.

"Hey Innie, it's okay, Y/N will be okay," he patted his younger member's back, thinking that's why he was crying to himself.

"It's not that, I mean, I'm worried about Y/N, but I messed up in the performance and then seeing her hurt too was just," Jeongin couldn't finish his words, crying into the shoulder of his leader.

"Ah, Innie, you did good, which part?" Chan patted his back gently.

"I just did a terrible job as a whole," Jeongin sniffled, his voice thick from trying to hold back his cries.

"Hey, it's okay man," Chan hugged him again.

Felix came and hugged Jeongin too.

"Ah what are we going to do with our maknaes?" Han sighed fondly, patting Jeongin on the head, and it was then they saw Y/N getting wheeled out of the medical room and heading down the corridor past their room.

"Hey, hey! What's going on?" Chan called after some staff of their own who were with Y/N.

"They're taking her to hospital, think she's got a bruised rib," the JYP staff shook their head angrily.

"A bruised rib?!" Changbin said with wide eyes, trying to peer round at Y/N who was sat up straight, trying to remain calm with Seungmin who was stood beside her, looking stressed himself.

"Lee Know and I will go with her, Seungmin, you go home with the others, yeah? We'll update you," Chan instructs everyone.

Seungmin nodded and was immediately embraced into a hug by Felix, feeling guilty for relaxing but he couldn't deal with seeing his member hurt.

And off they went. Changbin stayed behind with the 00 liners and Jeongin, making sure they weren't too shaken up by what happened. Chan and Lee Know stuck to Y/N like glue, one of them always holding her hand or stroking her hair, even when she had been given some drugs for the pain and was unconscious.

"I can't believe this happened..." Chan sighed, brushing back stray hairs from Y/N's face. They were sat beside her hospital bed.

"Typical MNET," Lee Know sighed angrily, looking at the boot now on Y/N's foot.

Y/N then started waking up.

"Hey, sweetheart, how you feeling?" Chan was quick to check in on her.

"Feel, funny," Y/N giggled trying to sit up but then wincing in pain.

"Oh gosh, she's gone loopy," Lee Know playfully sighed, but he couldn't hide his worry for her as he gently leaned her back.

"Wow I have such handsome members," Y/N suddenly said, the drugs she was given making her delirious and spouting whatever was on her mind.

"What? Y/N?" Chan laughed at the girl who staring at the two eldest members.

"Did so well today. Good performance. All 9 of us," Y/N carried on, seeming like she had forgotten about her injuries for now considering she thought all 9 of them was there, when really it was 8 because of the stupid hiatus Hyunjin had to be on.

"It was only 8 of us, Y/Nnie, remember?" Lee Know warily reminded her, and it was then she teared up.

"Call Hyunjin, I miss him. Want to talk to him," Y/N pouted sadly, and they couldn't deny their maknae.

"He might be busy though, Y/N," Chan said gently, calling his fellow member anyways.

Fortunately he answered.

"Hi Channie hyung!" Hyunjin said brightly upon seeing Chan's face, which soon changed to Y/N holding the phone closely to her face, making Hyunjin cackle.

"Woah, Y/N, all of a sudden?" he laughed over the phone.

"Hyunjin!" Y/N yelled into the phone, causing Chan and Lee Know to shush her due to being in a hospital.

"Y/Nnie!" Hyunjin joyfully said back.

"I miss you!" she said into the phone, holding the phone higher up where Hyunjin could see she was in a hospital gown and had an IV in.

"Miss you too- huh? Are you in hospital?" Hyunjin sounded very concerned, and Lee Know and Chan could hear it in his voice that he longed to be with them right now to comfort her and reassure himself.

"Yeah. Because MNET are all dickheads who can s-" Y/N spoke her mind, until Chan covered her mouth so she'd stop speaking and Lee Know took the phone.

"Hyung is Y/N okay?" Hyunjin frowned.

"We were filming and you know she had that harness part? MNET didn't do enough safety checks and so the cord snapped," Lee Know shook his head angrily

"What? That's ridiculous! How could they just let that happen?" Hyunjin rambled from the other side of the phone, but Y/N in her more delirious state thought he was talking about her.

"You angry at me Jinnie?" she asked sadly, bottom lip wobbling.

"No no no, not at you, jagi, at MNET, because they're all dickheads, remember?" Hyunjin quickly calmed Y/N, trying to make her laugh by using her words, and he was successful in doing so.

"Hyunjin!" Chan scolded, yet their was a smile as he spoke and Hyunjin could hear Lee Know's laughter in the background.

"Please update me if she's ok, yeah?" Hyunjin bit his lip worriedly, wishing he could be with his memners right now.

"Of course of course, that goes without question. Talk to you soon, yeah?" Chan promised Hyunjin.

"Bye hyungs! Bye Y/Nnie!" Hyunjin waved them goodbye as the phone hung up.

"Y/N you can't shout like that," Chan facepalms and laughs, scolding her for her shouting earlier on in the call.

"You sounded like a parrot," Lee Know said bluntly, causing Y/N to smirk.

"You sounded like a parrot."

"Y/N-"

"Y/N."

A sigh.

And another, Y/N copying Lee Know once again.

"Hyung make her stop," Lee Know whined, Y/N copying once again before he covered her mouth.

Chan managed to capture this on video and sent it to the groupchat to let them know how Y/N was doing.

Chan:

[vid. attachment]

Y/N is up and doing better

Han:

haha Lee Know hyung is annoyed

Chan:

well he did call her a parrot

Changbin:

ah Y/N is so clever like that haha

Seungmin:

she learnt it from me

Felix:

hahaha

what did the doctors say?

Lee Know:

she's got a bruised rib, broken ankle, don't know how we're going to let her down gently about if she can join the next performance or not

Jeongin:

I hope she can :(

Chan:

she spoke to Hyunjin and that made her feel better

Hyunjin:

what can I say? I'm a natural healer

Felix:

we miss you jinnie

Hyunjin:

I miss you guys too

but it's not long now, that makes me feel better

Y/N:

you know what is long?

Han:

which one of you let Y/N have her phone?

Y/N:

my d-dkfkfkfmfkfdkdkrkrkttt

Lee Know:

Chan did, but I've got it now. this one has gone crazy...

tagged: @oo-li

[chifuyuzu]

leap of faith — sano manjiro x reader.

word count — 1.3k.

genre — fluff fluff fluff, i love sweet mikey.

contains — cursing, timeskip SPOILERS present, reader is gender neutral.

description — sano manjiro is in love with you, and he realizes how much he loves you at the ass crack of fuckin' dawn.

author's note — hey besties, this is my first published fic here, kinda short but mikey brain rot is heavy. i hope you enjoy this cute fic before i rip your hearts out with some angst in a few days :^) reblogs and likes are always appreciated! and please give me feedback in my inbox! hehe, enjoy.

“it’s late.”

you know. but you still wanted to hear the sound of his voice before bed.

“mm… i missed ya’, is that a crime?” your voice echos through the receiver, the sound of your duvet crinkling in the background as you shift in place. sano manjiro was a busy man. always has been, always will be. being the leader of a biker gang was never easy—let alone some “new age” criminal organization.

you didn’t understand why manjiro persisted to play this game of russian roulette with his life. but it was never your place to overstep, especially since this was his life. it was all he knew, all he understood. you’re not sure what he’s doing, or if he’s even allowed to talk on the phone at this hour, but you still wanted to hear him. just so you know he’s alive and well.

you hear him chuckle, the sound of his feet scurrying against whatever floor his sandals were clacking against. the background noise that accompanied him earlier has dissipated; you realized he probably went outside to hear you better.

“your crime is loving a fool like me way too much. don’t think you’re sane.” he’s right. you’re actually crazy for even pursuing him. there was a lot of push and shove in the beginning, both parties scared of being hurt and getting hurt. but you were always there, even when manjiro went through whatever darkness was eating at his soul.

“crazy for you.”

“corny.”

“you love me.”

a pause. eerie enough to send shivers down your spine. why wasn’t he responding? did something happen? did you smother him too much? is he regretting—

“marry me.”

… not what you were expecting. especially not over the phone.

“sano manjiro, did you just propose over the phone? what kind of shitty rom-com are we in?”

“is that a no?”

“... never said that.” you wanted to marry him. but you wanted him to put that lifestyle behind, for the sake of the family you might have in the future. kids, dogs, cats, etcetera. you wanted him to be in, one hundred percent. but you knew he was too deep into this world to run now—especially since he’s so well-known as the ‘invincible mikey.’ you still longed for a happy home with manjiro, and a normal life.

“maybe you’re right. it’s not my style to ask you this over the phone.”

“try again later. when you’re really ready.”

the gag is, he is ready.

manjiro hurries home, blond locks hidden underneath a thin, black hoodie. he’s shaking, like a pomeranian in the presence of fireworks. his hand meets the left side of his chest, back pressed up against the grey colored wall of your shared apartment as he slides down to sit on the floor. it was four in the morning, and manjiro was about to shit himself.

he gulps, eyes peering around for you, double checking that you were fast asleep before he makes a phone call. his fingers tapped the back of his iphone, impatiently waiting for the other caller to answer. though it was the crack of dawn, he still needed some moral support.

“mikey? fuck you callin’ for at this hour? haven’t heard from you in mo—”

“ken-chin. i’m proposing.”

a loud ‘flop’ rang through the receiver, accompanied by the bedsheets seemingly slipping underneath draken’s feet. it was a huge bomb to drop, especially when the duo has been separated for months on end. manjiro hears more shuffling, followed by a few curses. “you’re fucking lying. the one you’ve been one since—?”

“yeah. i’m crazy as hell. but i love them. head over heels. i’m a goddamn simp.”

“why the hell am i the first to know, man?”

“you’re m’best friend, even if i need to stay away from you. and, also… you’re not the first to know. i asked them already.”

“you WHAT? don’t fuckin’ tell me you did it some dumb way like over the pho— you did. you’re impulsive enough to do it like that, too.” regardless of how long it’s been, draken still knows and understands manjiro like nothing ever happened.

“yeah… not romantic. but i can’t see myself with anyone else. i trust no one else. but i… am…”

“scared? man, you’re the head of a criminal organization. ‘course you’re scared. you don’t want the love of your life… to get hurt…” his voice trails off and manjiro’s heart tenses even more. the memories of the past still felt fresh. all the people they lost in tokyo manji… could never be replaced. not in a million years.

but the living must live.

“i love y/n. never felt like this before. i’d quit everything. but i would have to make sure they’re safe and whatever future we have together is secure. i know i promised takemichi that i’d protect everyone and that future he worked so hard to save… but what about mine?”

manjiro really did sacrifice everything for his friends. being the type of person who carries everyone else’s burdens takes a toll on his mental. he felt selfish for wanting to leave it all behind. but maybe being selfish was beneficial once in a while.

“listen—”

“do you think i’m stupid?”

“mikey. you’re not stupid,” draken sighs, shuffling again in place. “you just want to love someone and be loved in return. nothin’ stupid about that. what is stupid though, is you proposing over the damn phone.”

he’s not wrong. it was a spur of the moment decision that could drastically change his life forever. but with you, he doesn’t care. as long as you’re his, forever.

“how do you think i should do it?”

“well. i guess, tell me some sappy shit. how do you feel about them, and whatnot.”

“i don’t think i could ever imagine me with anyone else. a lot of people have tried to grab my attention but i only have eyes for y/n. sometimes when shit gets real hard…” manjiro takes a deep sigh, fingers threading through his hair, tilting back the hood to let it fall onto his back. “i think of y/n and i remember that even in this shit world, someone is here for me. someone cares about me. they make me feel like i’m not alone anymore.

i have dreams ‘bout us, y’know? me and y/n… kids running around. a little mikey clone. pissin’ them off because we want little flags on our meals. going to the park and letting kids be kids. maybe i’ll teach ‘em at a dojo like gramps did for me and my siblings. maybe i’ll teach ‘em about bikes—with your help, of course.”

draken laughs, letting his friend continue his little speech as he gets comfortable in bed again. don’t think i’ve ever seen mikey like this, ever, draken muses.

“man, we can own a whole zoo if we wanted. chifuyu could hook us up, in secret, of course. still have to protect everyone,” manjiro is grinning from ear to ear, head resting against the wall. “i wanna grow old with them. honestly, i didn’t think i’d make it to my twenties. more so, i didn’t want to live past twenty-something. but now… things are different. wanna be old and gray. see grandkids terrorize our children. die together.”

the tension in manjiro’s chest has faded away, only left with warmth that only you could bring him. his free hand reaches into his pocket to fumble with a small box, snapping it open to reveal the engagement ring his grandfather handed down to him.

he wasn’t the marrying type. but for you, he was.

“that all? you sound good like that, man. make an exception and let us come to the wedding.”

manjiro wants that more than anything. his friends, you... all safe. all happy. but again, the fear creeps up. he doesn’t know what to do with himself if any of you get hurt.

“... how do i tell y/n that?”

“you already have.” your voice makes him jump, knocking the velvet box out of his fingers and onto the hardwood floor. his face pales, followed by a huge lump forming at his throat when he sees your figure emerge from your shared bedroom.

“i-uh… i thought you were a-asleep.” manjiro mumbles, earning a huge laugh from draken on the other side. he hears him say something along the lines of ‘my cue to leave. good luck. send me an invite.’

“i was waiting for you.” 

he’s sweating now, a small bead forming at the base of his neck. his phone is now at his side, the screen flashing from draken’s caller id to the lockscreen photo of you on your first date together, a few years back. your eyes zone into the box, though.

“i was going to do this… better. god, i fucked up, huh?”

you’re laughing now, rubbing your tired eyes before you join him near the wall, picking up the box. “what makes you think that, dummy?”

now he’s confused. you wanted him to ask when he was serious, but in his head, serious meant rose petals, candles, someone singing celine dion in the distance.

without a word, you slip the ring onto its appropriate finger, holding up to the small rays of sunlight that peaked through the window from the approaching sunrise. manjiro’s hands fly up to your face, holding his whole world in his hands. his eyes are shiny, on the brink of tears. you nudge your noses together, foreheads connecting tenderly. your hands hooked onto the hem of his hoodie, bringing his frame closer as you whisper a soft ‘yes.’

“yes?”

“yes, i’ll marry you.”

manjiro’s lips curl up into the silliest grin you’ve ever seen him sport, before he presses a soft kiss to your lips. now he’s kissing you quite desperately. as if he’s trying to make sure you’re real, that this isn’t a dream. you feel his words vibrate against your lips, “gonna make you so happy, i promise. i love you. i love you so, so much.”

“forevermore.”

“forever yours.”

[vannybarber]

Put Some Respect On My Name!

Summary: As a wife and a mother to the kids of this asshole, respect is the one thing you better be recieving from him...after some good 🍆 of course. That's number one right there.😏

Ransom Drysdale x Black Reader

BIG ASS PLOT

Words: 5.3k

Warnings: Pregnant¡Reader, swearing, insults, angst, mentions of cheating, SMUT, breeding kink, spanking, oral (female receiving), praise kink, unprotected sex, mentions of religion, threats of violence (nothing extreme).

So here your are. Sitting on you and Ransom's shared California King bed looking at his friend, Derek's Instagram story, disappointed and angry. But mostly angry. Some nasty ass trick is sitting on your baby daddy's lap. Her loppy floppy tits out with a drink in hand and him drinking a Moscato, the one beverage he loved to order everytime he went out.

Last year for New Year's, you had to stop him from ordering more or else you were going to be cleaning him up after puking everywhere at midnight instead of getting a kiss to start off another year.

Your two year old daughter was in her playroom across the hall making a mess with her toys. Usually you'd be down there playing with her but your swollen stomach done prohibited you from doing a lot of things now. But it most definitely ain't stop you from getting what you want from Ransom every day and night. Nothing could ever stop you guys from getting yo freak on. Nothing.

Hugh Ransom Drysdale is most definitely an asshole and you're not gonna sit here and lie, acting like he completely changed when you guys came together. That boy still has his moments, but of course, it would be a chilly ass day in hell before you sit there and take his bullshit. He been learned that.

At this point ,you were thinking of ways to get on his ass about it when he comes home. Should you get the bat and wait at the door on some Beyonce shit ? Or put some bleach in his Fruit Loops like Cardi the next day ? Those sounded a lot better than what you decided to do. You were gonna wait till he got back home and calmly confront him on it, regardless of what your hormones wanted. 6 months pregnant and anger do not go together. You're WAAAAY more vulnerable and bound to do anything now. So you just watch your daughter brush her baby doll, hitting her on the head cause she won't sit still, rubbing your bump and wait for him to come home.

You hear shuffling downstairs and keys hitting the bowl by the front door. His big head home now and you're beyond ready.

You check the time and it's 2:46 am. You been put your child to sleep hours ago. You were just watching Wild N' Out to pass the time, thinking of how you were gonna start off without making yourself even more mad. The baby nor you need any of that. You were internally praying he was gonna get his ass over here soon cause your ass knocked out for a little bit. You were sleepy as hell right now.

Hearing those expensive ass Chelsea boots hit the sleek stairs and up to the second floor, you woke the fuck up real quick. You stay quiet and watch him walk in your daughters room and check on her. You can see with the nightlight him smile and rub her brown cheek with the back of his forefinger, whispering inaudible words to her. Fuck him and his adorable ass.

He bends back up straight and walks out her room closing the door a little and make his way across the hall to your room. He sees you and your pregnant state in your white tube top and grey booty shorts. Simple yet the baddest bitch he's ever laid eyes on and ever will. He smiles while locking eyes with you and all you do is narrow yours back at him getting upset all over again, regardless of the sweet previous moment shared with your baby girl.

He gives you a 'what the hell ?' look and comes over to give you a kiss but you jerk your head back with the stank face and a 'boy move out my face' quietly leaving your mouth. Now he's REALLY confused.

"Mama, what's wrong with you?"

You look at him like he just asked you to get on your knees and bark like a dog.

"What's wrong with me? You really asking that?" raising your voice on the second question.

Technically, he has the right to ask, being that he doesn't know what you know. He probably doesn't even know that Derek was recording him and that broad. Nor does he know that you texted Derek to keep recording him so you know nothing escalates.

Call it what you want, but you know how your man is. He's immature and irresponsible as HELL. If something had popped off that really threatened y'all's relationship, you would've been in that bar with your child on your right hip, earphones in her ear and tablet in hand, cussing him and that girl out.

"You wanna tell me how your night went?" You tilt your head asking sweetly, with a drop of sarcasm. You truly are a petty ass piece of work. And you love it.

"Just get to the point Y/N. The fuck did I do this time ?" At this point he's now visibly annoyed. But you ain't care. This situation is on his part. Y'all could've had a nice night, fucking while Big City Greens playing in the background on the T.V. eventually waking your child up cause you loud as hell, but nooooo. That ain't happening now.

You grab your phone and open back up Instagram, Marta popping up on your feed with Harlan reading a book. You like it and search up Derek's @ then click his story. You flip through countless tabs until you see the man-child standing in front of you, on the screen. You motion him over to the bed.

"Come here, asswipe."

He rolls his eyes, but moves them feets anyway. You turn your phone to him and let the video play. You watched it about a thousand times so you know exactly when it ends. After it does you pull the phone back in your lap and give him a questioning look.

Sometimes it's hard to read his expressions and this was one. It was a mix of slight guilt and double the annoyance. He backs up and stands back at the end of the bed, arms crossed.

"Really? This why you're upset?"

You swear you almost slapped him. And this time you couldn't blame the hormones because it was gonna be ALL YOU. You take a deep breath and lean your back against the cushion headboard.

"I KNOW you did not just ask me that as if I ain't supposed to be bothered by the fact that my husband got some random woman on his lap while I'm at home with his daughter and his growing child."

You deadass don't believe him right now. He really pressing you as if he don't know how you get when you're angry, especially while pregnant.

"My feet hurt. I am TIRED. I can't even move for more than 5 minutes without getting sick and having to sit down. The you come at me with this bullshit" you continue. "What the hell is wrong with you ?"

He just deadpans you. And you stare at his ass right back. You not playing right now.

"Y/N, you never get upset when I go out with my buddies and get hammered." He's flapping his arms around raising his voice at every word.

"What is the big deal now? It's fucking late and you're doing all this right now. What the hell?"

You gather the strength and get out the bed to close the bedroom door cause you about to go AWF.

Getting back on the bed fully sitting up and supporting your own weight, you tie your butterfly braids up in ponytail.

"Listen, you raggedy shitball,"

It's about to go down. You adjust yourself, ready to release the wrath.

"I don't give a damn how late it is. You know better than to go out and let some bitch get close up on you like that. Were you even thinking about me or your kids while she was on you? The fuck was going through your mind? Oh wait, I forgot. You don't fucking think. You have to actually have a damn brain."

"Raggedy shitball? Real mature, babe. Real fucking mature." He says rolling his eyes, finally getting his shoes off and putting them under the chair were his scarf and coat are draped over.

You continue with your rant.

"Ironic for you to comment on maturity, Hugh."

Yep, that's right. You said it. You called him by his ugly ass first name. Linda and Richard must've been out they damn mind naming him that shit. He whipped his head around, any sense of expression just completely wiping from his face. Perfect. Just the reaction you wanted.

"Don't call me that." He stated, pure disgust in his words. To be honest, you don't even blame him. But like stated before, you petty as hell.

"Hugh, Hugh, Hugh. Your name is fucking Hugh" you say in a sing songy voice. Damn, it feels good to be a gangsta.

"You don't get to tell me what to do right now. And back to what I said before. Why you let that girl in your lap like that ?"

"It was completely harmless. We were just having fun. Like you said before, you aren't a jealous person. Stuff like that shouldn't even be affecting you like this." He gets on the bed beside you and your face tore back up again. He's really getting in this fucking bed beside you like nothing.

But he was right though. You aren't a jealous person. A girl can come up to him at a party and flirt right in your face, but you'd never be bothered. Cause at the end of the day, her ass is getting rejected and he's gonna be inside you later the same night. He's yours and you're his. Simple.

"Ransom, just because I'm not a jealous person doesn't mean I'm gonna keep my mouth if our relationship is threatened." This man is actually delusional.

"You never entertain other girls when I'm around and here you are with a girl on your lap and I'm not there to say or do nothing. And you know your shitty friends will just encourage it. "

At this point, you started to get really insecure. Maybe it's the hormones, maybe it's just your logic. But your mind started racing like NASCAR. What really happens when he's out and you're at home? He wouldn't put your marriage and family at risk over a bitch...right? He hasn't cheated on you, has he? These thoughts really weren't good for your right now.

But he must've read your expressions. You were zoned out and he knows you're an over thinker so he had to stop you real quick. He puts his large left hand over your thigh, rubbing it and his right around your ass, leaning his head against your arm, trying to get you to chill. It almost worked, him knowing you liked your thighs rubbed, especially in your state.

But you caught that shit right away. You moved out of his hold and turn your body completely towards him. And then you ask him.

"Have you ever cheated on me?"

He freezes, you swear for at least 2.4 milliseconds and whips his head around to look at you. You turn your head away, somewhat regretting you even asked. You know this fucker loved you and your family with everything. He even said in his vows he would give his all into you. And you believed him. But fuck that right now. You need to know.

"Are you GODDAMN serious right now?!"

Okay, you paused for two things; he used God's name in vain, which you HATED, due to you growing up religious. Even though you don't practice it very often, it still bothered you. And two, he yelled, completely disregarding the fact that your kid is across the hall sleeping.

You snap your head around, braids hitting your face with super saiyan speed and kick him in his hip.

"What the shit, Y/N?"

"First of all, you know how I feel about that fucking word. STOP USING IT. And two, your daughter is sleeping so you need to keep your damn voice down!"

He's rubbing his side with a distorted look, but you could care less. You were fed up. This imbecile wasn't showing you any respect and your weren't gonna wait for him to get it right.

"How the hell would you feel if I went out, sat on some random dude's lap and entertained him while you were at home with our kid? Matter a fact, I'll do one even better. How about while I'm PREGNANT with YOUR baby, that YOU put in me, I sit on him and letting him rub my belly?"

Ransom has a big ass breeding kink. When you told him you were pregnant he was ecstatic. The though of him knocking you up, his seed growing inside of you just gave him pure ecstacy. And don't even get started on when your bump started to form. He was fucking every chance he got. He was in a theme park and you were his favorite ride.

You know you were playing with fire, but that shit felt AMAZING. He was really feeling how you were feeling right now. Them veins were popping out his neck and his face was slightly turning red. Baby boy was LIVID.

"Y/N, cut that shit out. I'm not doing this with your ass tonight." He looked at you with these eyes you've only seen when his family pissed him off at those gatherings he dragged both of you to. Before you had your first child of course. You went to them less after your daughter's birth because he didn't want her around his shitty family. You completely understood.

"Nah, baby boy. Since you want to be so inconsiderate and a triple asshole tonight, you can lay here by yourself and bathe in it." You got your big ass out the bed after minutes of struggling. Grabbing your black Betty Boop pillow with her cute afro, your charger, phone and your Hot Cheetos out the night stand and slipped on your slides, you waddle across the room, heading into the guest bedroom.

You refuse to sleep in the same bed as him, especially since he refuses to admit he's in the wrong. If you stay in there, you're just going to get even more frustrated and you don't want to harm your baby.

"Y/N, baby. What are you doing? Come back in here" he called you from the bedroom.

You shut the door and lock it. You'll be damned if you're gonna come running back cause he aSkEd you to. You settle in the bed, plug your phone up, grab your chips and turn When They See Us on the T.V.

Ransom just lays back on the bed in defeat. He didn't even make an effort to get you back in the room because you're stubborn as a mule. But he takes this time to go over what just happened.

He truly didn't think you would make a big deal. Like you said before, you're not a jealous person, so he didn't think he'd have to worry. Boy, was he all the way wrong. And you did have a point about you entertaining another man. That had his blood boiling. He gets at most irritated when you come with him to events, like the Oakley Country Club in Watertown and you're everyone's distraction.

It was your first appearance with him there and you being a sight to see, had all eyes on you and your body. Hell, even the women were checking you out, no envy or jealousy in sight. He knew then, he was gonna keep you close. You don't remember ever leaving his side that evening. He even volunteered to go into the bathroom with you. He didn't want to take a chance with the females either.

But in all seriousness, he couldn't bear the thought of you with another man. Especially now that you're married and have two kids together. But he really couldn't believe that you'd even suggest that he had been unfaithful to you. Your reasons were plausible, yes, but he was honestly...hurt. He knows what kind of guy he is comes off as, but he'd never intentionally ruin what you guys have built. You were the only one he truly let close.

He knew what he had to do, even though he dreaded it. He had to go apologize. He hates when you're upset with him. Absolutely hates it. Plus you were looking sexy as hell tonight and he need some of that round brown ASAP, no rocky.

Ransom got up and opened the door, making his way down the hall to the guest bedroom, but not before checking his baby's room. She was still fast asleep, little snores leaving her body. Exiting her room, he knew your door would be locked but tried to open it anyway. When it didn't budge, he knocked a couple of times. But you was knocked out.

Then he remembered. Lifting his hand to the top of the door frame, he searched for the thin key that unlocked the bedroom doors. Once he felt it, he grabbed it and inserted it in the door knob. Click. He pushed the door open and looked around to see the T.V. screen on, but paused, and you lying on your side with the Cheeto bag still open like a damn fool.

He shut the door quietly and made his way around the bed. He closed the loud ass bag, which caused you to stir and reposition your legs. He set the bag on the nightstand and crawled into the bed with you. He stared at you for a moment. Looking at your full lips and your wide nose.

Your afrocentric features were always so mesmerizing to him because they were different from all the other women. They were unique and he understood why you took so much pride in them. You had the damn right, especially looking that good. You were never afraid to embrace them. No person of color should ever be afraid to. Ever.

After what felt like an hour of weird ass staring, Ransom started to shake your arm, trying to wake you. You're a heavy ass sleeper, so it took him a while. You opened your eyes, squinting trying to figure what the fuck just woke your ass up. Feeling a dip in the bed and a presence next to you, Ransom comes into sight.

Even though this man is finer than a MOTHERFUCKER, you still turned your nose up when you looked at him. Your ass was still mad and it was ridiculous. Understandable, but ridiculous as hell. You could only imagine what he wanted now. You roll your eyes.

"Listen, I know you're still pissed at me and whatever, but I just came in here to.... apologize."

He averted his gaze to the T.V. You know how difficult it is for your baby to apologize for anything because even though he clearly in the wrong, he will never ever accept it nor admit it. And damn sure never apologize.

"I realize how you felt when you saw that video", he continued. "I would be even more pissed if you were the one in someone else's lap and I couldn't kick their ass as soon as I saw it."

You chuckled a little bit because it's true. He would be angry as shit. Although, you'd never be in that position because you love and respect him too much. But you let him finish before you spoke.

"With that being said, I'm sorry for my actions. Believe it or not, I'm still getting adjusted to being a husband and a father. I'm still struggling to give up my old habits and the shit I'm so used to doing. It's not easy, baby."

You grab is strong jaw and make him face you. He hasn't made eye contact with you this entire time. You almost felt bad, but he needed to understand. Understand where you were coming from and understand how it made you feel.

"Ransom, I'm not asking you to completely change who you are. I just want to know that you're in this for good. Because you can't turn back now. We've come too damn far. And I'll be damned if you decide to give up your responsibilities. Your ass gon' be grass."

He smiled a teeny bit, because what can you say? You're a natural born comedian. You can turn any situation in to some funny ass shit. But you get back to your point.

"I want you to be able to go out and have fun, but also come back and be a husband and a father. I value my independence just as much as you, so I get it. Just remember what you have. Don't fuck it up for some pussy, alright? That's all I'm saying."

You look him in his sea blue eyes. Damn, them thangs are hypnotic as hell. But you search for something that tells you he understands. That's all you fucking want. Him to understand. But you definitely got your answer.

Just as you were about to ask him, he shoots his face towards you and attacks your mouth like a damn wild ass pig. You were thrown all the way off, but you checked back into reality and kissed him back. You guys had this amazing ass way of getting in sync when you kissed. No matter who initiates it, you flow amazingly.

After a few mintues of saliva attack, you pull away tryna breathe cause he was about to take all your fucking oxygen. He laughs at the look on your face. You end up cracking up too. You can't help it. And he knows it.

"I completely understand, mama. I've definitely taken this into consideration. I learned my lesson." He smiles down at you. Internally you're proud as fuck because it's like you raised a bad ass kid into a well behaved one. The power your ass holds is amazing.

Then you look at the door trying to figure out how the hell he got in the room. "The key." You nod in realization. He rubs your thigh again, and this time, you don't stop him. Instead he stops himself. You look at him confused as fuck.

"But I'm gonna let you sleep in here, since you seem to be so cozy." He was messing with you. Fuck him. He gets up off the bed and head towards the door, but not before looking back to catch your reaction. You had a 'get your ass back over here' look on your face. But he just smirked. That signature smirk.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" He really out here testing you right now. The balls on this motherfucker...

"Ransom, get your ass over here and give me what I want." You look down at his crotch, imagining him without his wool Reiss pants. He follows your eyes, still holding that smirk, but not forgetting to widen it. You lusting after his fLeSh turned him on bad. And it felt so good.

You already know you're to hard to resist. Everyone loves chocolate. Even Ransom's lactose intolerant ass.

You start to rub your belly, purposely drawing his attention, really making him turned on for you. You can feel that that tropical rain storm in your Fenty underwear.

And that boy was ready to start swimming. He expediTiously got back on the bed and in between your legs. You give him that look and that's all he needed. Connecting your lips to his and moving them in perfect sync like always, he starts rubbing up and down the side of your full belly.

"So fucking perfect and all of it's for me."

You pause.

"And who said all of this was for you, Mr. Drysdale?"

Not amused by your comment, he slaps your ass louder than a bitch and you shut your ass up real quick. Not before letting out a little giggle though.

He lifts your heavy ass and pulls the tube top over your head, letting your swole breasteses fall into position. Your areolas widened since having your daughter and Ransom LIVED for it. You were definitely enjoying them massages and those lips treatments he gave you when they were sore, just like now.

He starts kneading the left breast and continues to make out with your face like an animal. His left arm is holding your ass up. He eventually lays you back down, knowing damn well his ass is tired of holding you. You ain't blaming him either.

He hooks his lips on the nipple of the same breast, twirling his deadly tongue all around it. You moan with your head thrown back cause it feels good as hell. He lets go and replaces his mouth with his hands and twirls the nipple with his mouth on the other.

All you could do was mumble cuss words and grab his hair. He was really fucking you up and the real fucking didn't even start yet.

Trailing kisses all the way down your beautiful bump, down all the stretch marks till he reaches your shorts. He wasted no time getting them off and disposing them on the clean floor. Whatever he throw on the floor HE'S picking that shit up, not you. You'll make sure of that.

He looks directly at your covered pussy with excitement in his eyes. More excited than you were, if that's even possible. He takes his thick index finger and rubs you through your panties, completely soaking them. You just watch him, lust dialating your pupils.

He yanks them off, almost taking you off the damn bed at the same time, so you had to re-adjust yourself. He spreads your legs on their sides of his wide shoulders and licks from your core to the hood that covered your clit. You jerked a little cause you were in your second trimester, the horny trimester. You were 🌃 sensitive 🌃.

Then his annoying ass starts lapping in circles in super saiyan speed. You cry out and grab your left breast, squeezing and rubbing it. He stretches his left hand out and takes the right one, doing the same thing. Your back was continuously arching. You know your baby was fed up.

After a couple of more laps, your body finally can't take anymore and you cum all over his mouth. He has the audacity to keep going, even when your clit is hypersensitive, making you literally whimper, so you have to slap his head to get him to stop.

He pulls away with that stupid famous smirk.

"All that shit you're always talking, but you couldn't take a little sensitivity?" He teases you. But that's alright, cause you gon' remember that next time you're on your knees for him. When he comes, you not taking your mouth off him until you feel like it.

"Just fuck me already before I change my mind." You don't know why you even said that shit. He can tease you all you want. You'll never not have your legs or mouth open, ready for him to stick his dick wherever he feels.

He just chuckles, cause he knows that too.

Taking your body, he flips you on your left side and settles behind you, dick right against your ass. Its one of your favorite positions because he could hit your sweet spot perfectly this way. And he could rub your bump at the same time. Beneficial for the both of your greedy asses.

He was taking way to long so you grab his dick and line it up with your pussy and push the tip in slowly, playing with your own arousal. Ransom just watched. He loved seeing you desperate for his stupid ass, but you gave zero fucks at the moment.

Finally you slip his huge ass girth inside you and you moan out loud as hell. You really just be turned on by anything at this point. He then takes back the lead and pushes further till he bottoms out inside you. He's heavily breathing his hot ass breath on your neck like a weirdo, but fuck it.

Once both of you are adjusted, he starts moving in and out of you. The position made your walls hella tighter and he was already hitting your spot. His tight arm is wrapped around your stomach now. You constantly moan his name and he's just encouraging it.

"Ransom, fuck, baby just like that"

"You love when I fuck you like this, don't you pretty girl?"

You hated when he called you "pretty girl, sweet girl, or good girl" because you become a straight whore for him right away. He's such an asshole.

"Yes, Daddy- please don't stop"

"Tell me how bad you want it baby"

There he go with these fucking games. Always wanting to hear you beg.

"I want it so bad, Daddy ! pleASe give it to mE"

Happy Ransom?

He starts to pick up the pace and you feel the pleasure in your toes. It just travel from there all around your body and you can't say anything but "don't stop" and moan uncontrollably.

You start getting close and he can tell by the way you pick up the moans. So he starts going faster. But never forgetting to add a little nasty dialogue.

"I can feel you ready to come sweet girl. Keep clenching around me baby" That shit just made you even more whore-knee. If you weren't already pregnant, he was definitely gonna put a baby in you that night.

"Baby I'm close- fill me up Ransom please "

You're begging for this man to cum inside you, but he always wanna play a damn game.

"Hmmm do you truly deserve to cum baby? I don't know if you do.."

You wanted to hit him so bad, but he wouldn't let you come if you did. So you go along with it.

"Yes Daddy I'll do anything- Please just let me cum !" You screamed.

At this point you were loud as 🌃fuck🌃 .

After more begging he finally let you come.

"Oh shit Ransom- FUCK" You come all over his dick and shortly after, he came right behind you. Filling you up just like you wanted. He slumped against your back and you lowered your shaky leg.

"You always take me so well baby girl." He starts kissing your neck. You could literally hear that loppy ass smile he has on his face everytime y'all get done. But you get all tingly inside because you love when he praises you. Makes you feel proud of yourself.

"Well there's not much to take so...it's whatever." What are you without a teasing remark after every other sentence? But he always has a clapback.

"Its funny you say that because the other day you were practically in tears because my dick was "too much for one woman to take" and that I was practically torturing you." At this point you're turned over facing him grinning like a Cheshire cat and him smiling right back at you.

"Oh shut the fuck up, with your annoying ass." You snap back at him playfully, rolling your eyes.

"You love me, my chocolate bunny." He let's out an audible yelp when you kick him in his leg. You hate when he calls you that. "Cut it out Ransom, or you're not touching me for a week."

There you go again saying the dumb shit. You both know that YOU could never go through with that.

"Fine by me", he states unphased. Cause he knows you could never.

You roll your eyes for the 50thousanth time.

"You're lucky I love your ass."

"I love you too pretty girl" he winks.

Just as you were about to get up, you hear something jiggle the doorknob and someone huffing and puffing outside the door. That little girl over here jumping up and down tryna to open the damn door. You're literally hollering at her struggle. Truly sick in the fucking head.

"Mama! Where Papa ?" Ransom grins as he throws you his blue sweater so you can cover up and gets up to let your baby girl in.

You truly cannot stand this guy.

This all came to me so fast 😭 I hope y'all like it lmaoo

[all-things-fic]

Somewhere Only We Know

A/N - Hello, you lovely lot! Hope you are all keeping well in these utterly shit Covid times. Who would’ve thought that we would still be here in December?! Please see my offering for @goldenbluesuit​‘s Christmas Fic Challenge. Hope I’ve done a bit of justice with this piece.

I can remember Katie texting me telling me about the challenge, and I’ll admit I was given first dibs and now I’m absolutely shitting myself because I’ve seen all the brillaint entries so far and I’m not sure I really cut the mustard with this piece but I’m proud of myself for being able to put a solid 70% of this together in just one day (that one day being today).

Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Katie has done a brilliant job and I know how grateful she is towards anyone who has joined the challenge or supported by reading/sharing etc.... I need to stop rambling... Okay, thank you for sticking with me as always and happy reading! .x

***

The last thing you remembered actually reading in the group chat was “make sure you have your wellies”. You were glad that you remembered that part at the very least.

Winds whipped around you as you buried your face further into your cream roll neck cable knit jumper, all but hidden underneath your tobacco borg teddy coat that someone had already likened to Macklemore.

Nothing like being back home with your closest and oldest friends.

Mud squelched under your feet as you walked in line with two of your oldest girl friends, eyes looking over the four males in front of you as they led the way over the grassy hills.

There had been zero planning on what today’s events would bring. It was quite clear that the seven of you just wanted to be reunited with the country air and wind bitten cheeks.

It was nice. How simple it was. On the surface at the very least. That was until you zoned in on the little things. 

Like his laugh. The same laugh that always carried somehow and it seemed like the wind was making it that much more prominent than usual today.

There was no denying, he had this glow about him. Even from the back of him. You felt silly for thinking it, but it was true. It was in the way he held himself as he attacked the grassy hills with his feet clad wellies and brown trousers.

Life had changed a lot in over a decade. Christ, had it been that long? You’d all gone from baby teenagers to fully fledged adults. The age range of your friendship differing slightly, the odd person here and there slightly older than a couple of people in the group.

Nonetheless, many of the experiences had been the same. The big job offers, and the even bigger promotions. The heartbreaks, regardless of their prominence or lack of, had been the felt the same. The flirtation between some of you sparked probably a bit more so now with a finesse that didn’t have you rolling your eyes but rather leaning into it. 

Four out of seven of you were single. Jack and Jonny were virtually married off, however neither of them were with their partners this year with both deciding to spend Christmas at home and New Years with their significant others. Alice was still loved up and going strong with her fella, as was Grace who you hadn’t heard a peep from as she constantly checked her phone to see when the person she was besotted with finally arrived up North thanks to West Midlands Trains pulling into Crewe. 

So that left Will, you and Harry. Harry who had  quite publicly made it known that he was single. Well, according to your Mum he had, in several interviews. Including the one that she had described as an ‘incredibly relaxing watch and nice background noise to my Sunday evening brew and ironing session’. 

That was a strange one for you, his honesty. In earlier years of friendship, he always seemed quite aloof. Like he was keeping his options open. Guarded in a way that frustrated at least 75% of the friendship group, in the nicest way possible. You knew that was a contradiction but any annoyance came from a good place. 

You remembered one night in 2014 when he wouldn’t quite give you a straight answer over tequila shots whether he was shagging someone or not. You also remember the way he’d been pulled away from you tactfully by Alice that night when she sensed how you were about to blow up at his lackadaisical attitude. 

The same had been felt in 2016. Not so much in 2018, but you weren’t single then so maybe you just didn’t care. 

2019 was significantly different though.

See the thing was, you knew him now. Like, knew knew him. 

Some would think it was a lapse of judgment, a reading that you would agree upon given what had happened two days prior if ever prodded about it publicly.

Others would vehemently disagree. Stating how long any sort of energy between the two of you had been bubbling for a number of years. 

Looking back you couldn’t even understand why you’d attended his show. You lived in Camden and it made sense, but that’s where the sense stopped. Even the ways he had reached out had been one of the most random messages you’d received from him

There was no context, just a simple ‘I’m playing the Electric Ballroom and there’s tickets waiting for you if you want ‘em.’

And the thing was, you loved that venue. The grungy-ness of it all. The way you had stuck to the floor while trying to dance along to the likes of The Hives and Kings of Leon when seeing them playing there, basking in your sweaty happiness. 

But the stickiness of the floor and sweatiness of the room didn’t compare to the stickiness and sweatiness you later found yourself partaking in as Harry took you from behind over the side of his couch. 

A shiver rolled through you at the thought, one that you would blame on the December bitter chill because it was a secret. One that neither of you had mentioned since it happened on Thursday night, or to be technically correct the early hours of Friday morning. 

He’d been good. Of course he had been.

He had that way about him that night that pulled you under a false sense of endeared security. From his dimpled smile to gleaming eyes. He was happy. 

And the way he had shone as he found you on the balcony had warmed you like nothing you had known in the longest time.

It caused you to forget about the worry that had laden you limbs as you turned up at 9.13pm to the wooden doors of the building, wondering how many songs he was in to the set as you convinced yourself he would start at 9.00pm.

As you’d been ushered over to a clear box window and uttered your name to a dorky looking man wearing a tracksuit pull over and watched him handover a white envelope through the circle hatch. 

You stood in the dark, next to two much younger girls who enjoyed the way his glances lingered over at their side. Eyes had found Gemma in the opposite corner of the balcony, her dancing and singing with some recognisable faces mainly more so because you had seen them on social media.

You, however, kept yourself to yourself. Until you were anchored in the tightest hug from Gemma that you had ever felt from her and swayed from side to side as she made it known how pleased she was to see you once the concert was over. 

That familiarity had been nice. The vibrancy of nostalgia consuming you in your entirety. 

Watching him work a room when he finally entered the after party was a sight to behold, in his navy blue pinstripe suit and yellow ‘I’m gonna die lonely’ t-shirt. 

He wasn’t. Gonna die lonely, that is. 

He glided so smoothly from one person to the next, spilling a drink down himself in the process you’d seen (and later felt when your hand clung to the fabric of his t-shirt as you kissed), making time for everyone in his own unique way.

Big eyes followed you over Gemma’s shoulder when he had finally found himself within your circle and hugged his sister once more that evening. They were hard to read but also openly filled with a glimmer of hope as he dropped his gaze to see what you were wearing.

And when he approached you, he hugged you in a way that managed to pull you into the darkened corner of the dingy space. Spinning your body to keep your face concealed from any prying eyes. 

He revealed to you how he didn’t think you were going to turn up, scanning you with his gaze as he spoke. You did the same, a bit taken aback by just how attractive you were finding him. He had always been handsome but the aura he gave off, made your fingers itch to have him closer to you. 

Words ran away from you that night as he begged and pleaded with you to tell him what your favourite song had been. Based on first impressions, which the show has been, then Canyon Moon and Watermelon Sugar had smothered you and given you no other option but to pick them.

If he were to ask you now you’d probably say To Be So Lonely, thanks to the drive home being longer than originally thought and said album being your choice of road trip music. 

Forget Driving Home For Christmas, nothing slapped more than one of your closest friends admitting to being an arrogant son of a bitch. 

After your chat, he mingled some more but Harry was always tactile and that night had been no different. He veered conversations with people you had never seen before to take place by the zone that you all occupied.

He actively kept his back against yours, allowing the faintest of touches and brushing of arms - sometimes hands too if he dropped them down heavily enough with his arms as he spoke - to entice and create a spark. 

You were kept late enough to miss the last tube. Battery dangerously low on your phone that you didn’t know if a transaction with Uber would be worth a try. 

Jumping into the same car as him had been easy. His soft and tired eyes findings yours in the cab as he leant his head back against the headrest in the back seat and let his lips tip upwards in an expression of tenderness that had you melting in your seat. 

“‘S been a while since we’ve both been a bit pissed in the back of a taxi,” he mused, pushing his fallen locks out of his eyes to ensure his view of you wasn’t obscured. “Come an’ cuddle me like you used to do when we went out a’ home and were worse for wear.”

Falling into his side was almost second nature, eyes closing as you let your forehead rest against his jawline and let his worn in cologne fill you senses and scatter your judgment.

You don’t even remember how you ended up kissing that night. A mixture of confessions about missing each other and praise of how good you both were in your own ways. The sound of his whispered, “are you coming home wi’me?” against your lips an offer too good for you to refuse as you sat pressed into his side and half in his lap. 

The giggles that night, around dramatic shushes as you tripped and shuffled from the car to his front door were almost haunting in your memory as he tried to chastise you around spluttered laughter about being respectful of his neighbours. 

Getting the key in the lock proved unchallenging -  one of the better analogies aligned to your memories and latter sexual endeavours - as you slipped into the house. He enjoyed watching the way you walked ahead of him into his home, not realising how much he needed that visual of seeing how well you fit in. 

While time seemed to slow in that moment, movements desperately sought the opposite. Hands gripped and clawed like their lives depended upon it. 

Looking back now, both he and you wished it hadn’t happened the way it did. Skirt lifted and over the side of his couch. Teeth clashing and hips knocking.

It had been every inch a drunken fumble. A first meeting slightly cheapened but wanted nonetheless. Only made even cheaper by the hush-hush concealing of it ever occurring. 

But a secret it was and a secret it would remain. 

And oh how you wished you had a pillow you could press you face into right now and scream, this time for an entirely different reason. Unlike that night. 

“Not seen a sign of any deer yet, mate,” you heard a voice break you out of your indulgence of recollecting past events. Harry was the worst at wanting to get a reaction. 

“Christ, have a bit of patience would yer?”

You smiled at the bickering, just like it always was as the River Dane could be heard in the distance somewhere as you walked. If you listened really close, that is. 

Lifting your eyes, your smile lingered as you watched Harry spin his body around and let his hands get lost in the massive pockets of his parka. He walked backwards holding your gaze softly with his eyes twinkling before he gently rolled them at the overreaction and impatience of your friends.

He seemed pleased that you’d enjoyed his teasing as you once again hid you smile into your jumper. 

You’d be alright.

***

You heard giggles and screams ahead of you as your friends stumbled in the dark and messed about as you got closer to the viaduct. This place or the people didn’t change, and at times while it filled you with a warm nostalgia, it could be heavily jarring.

A soft and lazy smile pulled at your lips as you felt his heavy forearm lightly tug you closer to him, his lips finding your hair. And then there was Harry. 

“Think we should go this way m’self,” Harry mumbled, the nudge of his hips against yours had you stumbling slightly in your heels away from the direction of your friends and somewhere completely different. 

“And why’s that?” You turned your face slightly, cheeks warm and flushed thanks to the mixture of alcoholic beverages; eyes glazed as they lifted up to look at him. 

“Cause you never would’ve let me when I was sixteen,” he admitted. 

“You didn’t ask.”

“‘M askin’ now.” 

With slow blinking eyes, you looked at his own unfocused vision. A soft shine to his skin, hair blowing gently against his forehead. The softest of smiles tilted at your lips.  

“On yer go,” he nudged you forward, this time more so with his crotch and his hands, which wrapped around your hips to help steer you. Harry was met with only a small amount of resistance from you as you split off from your friends and turned in the different direction. 

You bit back your laugh, dropping your head slightly as you felt your heels started to sink into the grass as you walked. Harry was level with you when you sunk down noticing the way you legs slightly gave way, a soft chuckle omitting from his throat as he asked, “You alrigh’?”

“I’m sinking in these bloody things,” you grumbled, pulling your heel from the grass and trying to place the sole of your shoe onto the ground beneath you first. 

“So much for no’ being able to take the country out o’ the girl. London’s changed yer, swear it.”

Shaking your head, you cut your eyes to give him a harsh stare for his wind up. His amused expression lit a fire in you like no other. He really wasn’t one to talk though, was he? 

“Gi’me your hand ‘ere,” he held his out to you, quickly cupping it when you handed it over and pulled it under his bent elbow. “Remind me again who’s idea this was, eh?”

He didn’t need reminding, he had been one of the keen instigators for the whole jaunt down Twemlow Viaduct. It usually was him, or Jack. The two of them often reminiscing on times they had both raided their parents' alcohol cupboards and managed to sneak out with some dusty bottle that held a liquor that tasted out of date and stale, and if not that then, cheap. 

“‘S still fucking freezing down ‘ere, in’it?” He asked, lifting his left hand up to his mouth and blowing against it to try and get some feeling back into his fingers.

“We’re so close to the river, I don’t know why you’d expect anything different?”

“Is this why everyone was always so insistent on necking anything with over 11% alcohol in it when we came down ‘ere as kids?”

“Probably,” you softly laughed. 

“‘S a bit different now though innit?”

“Oh, I’m not so sure,” you started to correct him, shrugging your hand out from under his elbow and reaching for your bag. Quickly fumbling with the clasp, you lifted up the quilted flap and managed to pull out the stainless steel hip flask.

Harry cackled a harsh laugh, his eyes crinkling as he slowly let his laughter die down and softly let his joy wash over his features. “Impressive. Gone all proper on me.”

“You know I haven’t,” you held his eyes watching as he nervously cupped at the back of his neck for a short while, a gentle bite down of his bottom lip, as you quickly uncapped the item and held it out to him. He looked like he needed the courage.  You continued, “We’re just a bit more refined, that and we earn a good living. Some more than others, and by some I mean you.” 

He held his hand up towards you with an amused grin at your comment. “You first, ‘s yours after all.” 

Lifting the item and knocking back your head, you swallowed the whiskey with a small grimace, before offering it to Harry once more. This time he accepted, his right hand making light work of taking the item from your hands and sipping at the contents.

His face wasn’t as contorted as your’s when he swallowed, a fan of the chosen beverage if needs must. “‘S the proper stuff, tha’ is,” he commented with a quick lick of his lips before continuing, “Come a long way from sneaking the bottles of dusty Blossom Hill from the back of the cupboard.”

“Don’t know about that,” you smiled, taking the item and pushing it back into your bag. “I’d still drink if, if it were on offer.”

“‘M sure Mum’s got a bottle or two going at home?”

“Is that your way of asking me to go home with you?” You paused. “Again.”

Harry remained silent at your words. Both you and he knew it was going to happen. A mixture of sparks and lovelorn, lingering glances was enough to make anyone both want to give up, while also giving a burning confidence usually unknown. 

Neither of you expected it would be you who started the conversation, however. 

“It is, ‘f it’s gonna work. ‘M not sure I could wait any longer t’be’onest wi’yer.“

Laughing, you reached up to push at his shoulder. He always knew exactly what to say, but no way was he going to make a laughing stock of the whole thing. “Oh, give over,” you spoke, harshly swallowing when he kept your hand against the thick cable knit black jumper he had on. “You’ve made it this far, thus far just fine.” 

“‘M not playin’,” he whispered, hand gently curling around your own and lifting it up to press against his face. His cheeks were warm underneath the cooler hands, despite the cold night whipping around you both and your mind quickly wondered if he was just as embarrassed for his lack of acknowledgment as you had been. “Homes nice, you’re nicer.”

“I thought we weren’t going to talk about it,” you let your soft voice get taken by the wind.

“An’ what gave you tha’ impression?”

He did. He gave you that impression. By not mentioning it. By treating you how he always did.

“You.”

“Me?” Harry responded, indignantly, blowing out a sigh that had his cheeks puffing out underneath your hand. “‘M not doing a very good job then am I? I can’t keep m’eyes off o’you. ‘S not my fault you don’t bloody notice ‘em.”

But you had noticed them. 

His eyes, gaze following your every move, near enough. Stupid little touches. Glances of approval. Not just now, but from years before. 

Treating you how he always did.

Oh, treating you how he always did.

Bringing your eyes back to his figure, you saw the way his gaze darted and nervousness dragged at his features. A frown began to set itself between his eyebrows from worry. 

“Changes everything.”

Running his tongue along his teeth, Harry pursed his lips. “Everythin’ has changed, changed a long time ago an’all.” 

You dropped your hand down, it now massaging against the back of his neck and shoulder as you felt the tension of his body radiating through his clothes. Under the dim moonlight and the odd spotlight that had been added to the viaduct with each passing year for safety, Harry exhumed everything anyone would want in a boyfriend. He was soft, and so bloody gorgeous. Not just because he was personification of an almost six foot tall string of handsomeness, but his character did the talking for him.

He knocked the door before he walked into a room, for example. Who really did that kind of thing anymore? 

But you could also still see the heartbreak that lingered, albeit not as strong as it once was, it was still there. And that was problematic and scary. To be on the receiving end of it. Not that you would hold it against him, because you had been him at one point too. At many points in fact. 

When the two of you had shagged, because let’s face it that is exactly what it had been, while a sense of familiarity in the person was prevalent it was definitely overruled by the desire to just hit a euphoric high that if hit right could not be topped. 

Familiar overruled in other aspects, and it wasn’t to be brushed away. But was familiarity a mask that would slip sooner rather than later? Was it the start and the end?

The both of you experienced similarities in your life that could not be matched by the friends in your friendship group. London had chewed you up and spat you out, ruthlessly so. While rewarding you with long hours but fat pay cheques, careers that catapulted you to new heights and enabled you to see parts of the world that two country kids (which in one way you were) could never have imagined. 

Sure Harry’s had been on a much, much larger scale - you would not ever deny that - but you no longer fit in. 

And neither did he. 

This was a place that only the two of you knew. A place where you watched those around you fall in love and have the time to do so. A place where your friend's happiness was created a lot easier than it wasn’t and allowed a sense of success to weave its way in, through the most unexpected of happenings.

Not a place where you found happiness in your work because there was less of a space for happiness to blossom elsewhere. Not really. Not like you; both of you. 

Understanding was vital. 

This had been a place you knew like the back of your hand. A place that had you feeling the earth beneath your feet, fresh air in your lungs and had at times made it so you found yourself sitting by a river and finding yourself feeling complete. 

Yet looking over at the almost 26 year old, that just wasn’t the case anymore. 

And for once you didn’t feel alone. 

The sound of the odd piece of cobbled pavement underneath Harry shoes, buried beneath overgrown grass and plants, broke you from your thoughts, as you watched him kick at the ground and scuff his shoes.

He sighed, head tilted back before he knocked it to the side and caught your eyes. A small scoffed laugh left his lips as he shook his head and dropped his gaze to his feet.

“‘S it fucked?”

You hummed, a small frown lacing your features.

“Fucked it, haven’t I? Fuckin’- idiot-“ he breathed out a noise as he clenched his teeth, one that wasn’t quite a growl but enough to let you know he was agitated. Only strengthened by how tight his jaw became. 

Before you could even think, the back of your hand gently brushed against the pulsing hinge of his jaw. Muscles taut as you tried to soothe him in a way that your mind was screaming was far too intimate.

You didn’t want him having any internal battle about right and wrong. Not when you had both taken the same steps to get here. 

“Thought it was just meant as a one time thing,” you admitted. “Like you needed it, and I needed it. Was what it needed to be at the time. Bit rough, bit sloppy-“

You cringed are the use of the word. Wanting the ground to swallow you in a weird fashion. You should be able to talk open and honestly with someone who you had known longer than hadn’t. 

“Rough?“ Harry swallowed audibly, his face fallen. “That’s not-“ 

His eyes held an emotion similar to sorrow at the mention of the word. “That’s not the impression I wanted to give you.” 

“We were both drunk, it happens.” 

“Not with me it doesn’t. Not when it’s me, wanting to be wi’you.”

“I mean I was into it if that helps anything?” 

“Were yer?”

You looked at him from the corner of your vision, watching his lips try to fight a smile as you rolled yours into your mouth to not give yourself away. You knew what you were trying to do by speaking those words aloud but you wished you hadn’t. Awkward breathy laughs were shared by the two of you as you held his eyes. 

“Was I?”

You hummed in agreement to answer his question, letting your smile dance along your lips now and watching as Harry’s dimples started to show. His expression was youthful, slightly smug. 

“Good t’know.”

***

Finishing saying your goodbyes to your friends and ignoring their suggestive expression because ‘Harry was stopping as an extra pair of hands’, you shut the heavy wooden door and reached up to close the deadbolt lock at the top. Shortly after, you let your feet drop as you stopped standing on your tiptoes and pressed your forehead against the door. 

The silence of the pub was always a strange one to you. A place that was usually thriving, whether it was just your friends, or your parents friends. When the lights were turned out, it was actually quite a lonely place. Regardless of growing up around this sort of industry your entire life and having parents as publicans nothing was more depressing than an empty bar, lifeless and nothing like it was intended.

A suggested lock-in from Jack, who managed to interrupt both yours and Harry’s conversation earlier had not been a bad shout after all. You knew it meant that you would have to deal with the fallout with it being Christmas Eve, but it wasn’t very often that you found yourself in the setting. 

Turning to move from the door, you almost jumped out of your skin when you heard the opening of a familiar Lily Allen song start to play over the speakers. 

Harry emerged from the corner of the pub that housed the jukebox, slowly rubbing his hands together before he wordlessly picked up the scattered pint glasses that had remained on one of the tables that had been missed by the staff on the evening shift. His eyes glanced over at you, as you stood with a hand to your chest.

This wicked smile and gleam washed over his face as he paused his movement. “Did I scare yer?”

“Do you not think it’s a bit loud?”

He wrinkled his nose at you, a soft shake of his head no, to answer your question. 

“‘S your fave innit?” He asked, head nudging to where the jukebox was now hidden.

With a small smile you nodded, “Prefer the Keane version in all honesty.”

“Don’t have it in the bloody jukebox though, d’yer? Can’t like it that much.”

Your smile deepened at his exclaim and how prominent his accent sounded as he spoke, the small clink of the glasses he was holding only heard if you really zoned in. 

“Where d’yer want these?” He asked, holding up the five pint glasses he had collected. “Behind t’bar?”

Humming, you nodded and watched as he weaved his way through the tables to you. You frowned as he got closer, not understanding why he hadn’t bypassed you completely.

Once he was close enough to you, you watched as he reached for what you knew to be your own glass of wine that was almost finished. 

“Fancy the rest of this or can it go too?”

Looking at him and down to the glass, you gently wrapped your hand around it and brought the lip to your mouth. You knocked the item back quickly, swallowing the rest of your wine, before handing over the now empty glass back to Harry.

“Good girl,” he joked, light laughter lacing each word. “Sit yourself down.”

Wearing an amused and quizzical expression, you let yourself sink down into the wooden chair. Resting your chin on your hand, you spun slightly in your seat to keep your eyes on Harry as he placed the glasses down and lifted the hatch so he could step behind the bar. 

With your free hand, you started to tap the worn beer coaster labelled with the Cheshire Brewhouse logo against the table. Part of you hated how Harry had a knack for anything, including knowing his way around a bar. 

He busied himself with collating the glasses once more as you let your eyes take in the surroundings you had known, loved and even grown out of. 

Your parent’s pub was cosy and friendly. A truly 

classic and quintessential British village pub, featuring open fires, bookcases found in the very far corner or the jukebox in the other, lots of old oak and a really pleasant garden with benches for the summat and heaters for the winter. You know the kind that had its regulars that had kids who had seen each other grow up.

The bar was the centre of the pubs house, with an extensive array of whiskies amongst many other delights. A nice range of local ales and a well-balanced, great quality list of wines on offer designed (which you would be taste testing if the service hadn’t decided to take a break) to complement the food menus designed daily by a team of chefs who all have a passion for great cooking using fresh, seasonal and local ingredients.

It looked as Christmassy as Christmas could get, with a real tree which was locally sourced from one of the many surrounding farms and traditionally decorated with golds and reds. Twinkly lights shone, not only on the trees but as part of the garland that was hung above the bar each year, much to the annoyance of your Dad and the delight of your Mum.

Slowly dragging your eyes back to the bar, you watched Harry as he poured you another glass of white wine and started to recap the bottle. He must’ve felt your eyes on him, his gaze meeting yours almost immediately. 

“Service is a bit slow,” you jibed, once you knew he was with you. “Going to ruin the reputation of a fine establishment.”

His chuckle was breathy in response, but warmed you through as he turned his back and pushed his tumbler glass up against the device at the bottom of the Glenfiddich distilled malt whiskey, not once but twice going for a double. 

“Helping yourself to the stock now, as well.” 

“‘M sure your Dad won’t mind,” he responded, twisting his body back around to reach for your own glass and place it onto a tray that sat along the bar top. “In fact he’d probably make a comment about how it’d put hairs on m’chest.”

You laughed, unrestrained, knowing just how right he had been with that comment. 

Over the otherside of the room, Harry smiled and shushed you as he walked closer, easily holding the tray with your drinks upon it. “Being a bit loud,” he taunted as he slid the tray down to the oak table.

“Oh, now you’re concerned about the noise.”

With his hand against the back of the chair which was currently housing your outstretched legs, you felt him start to wobble the seat to give you a warning. 

“Hang on,” you said, “Plenty of other chairs.”

“This one’s mine,” he responded.

Wanting to roll your eyes but deciding not to, you let your legs drop down and gave the seat back to Harry. Once he was comfortable and he’d taken your drink off the tray, he gestured with his right hand.

Not entirely focused, he had to do the ‘come hither’ motion a couple of times before you finally cottoned on. He was willing to let you put your legs on his lap instead, while he may have taken the seat it didn’t mean he wanted to take away your comfort.

No sooner had your legs been raised to rest against his tan washed velvet corduroy trousers, was he fiddling with the buckle of your stiletto sandals.

“Got mud everywhere,” you commented, wiggling your toes that were painted a festive red and inspecting the little dots of dirt that were splattered against your skin, as Harry dropped the first shoe to the floor and quickly worked on the second. “Dread to think what they smell like.”

“Smell alrigh’ from ‘ere,” he mused, smirk faint but glaring obvious in his tone of voice as he threw a quick and mischievous glance at you. As you elongated your foot against his thighs, the tips of your toes were just about able to press into his thick jumper to try and jab at him for his comment. 

Before you were able to put any sort of force behind your action, Harry’s hand clamped down around the top of your foot causing your eyes to snap up away from his hand and up to his eyes.

There he sat watching you, top two teeth pressed into his bottom lip keep his smile at bay. Releasing his lips slowly, his whispered threat left his throat, “I will tickle.”

You tried to fidget away but to no avail. With a whined laugh, you frowned as Harry goaded you by slowly raising his eyebrows. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

You had tried him. 

Truth be told you wanted to again.

If he wanted to.

Reaching for your wine, you took a hefty sip and let the silence swallow you both. Harry, who kept his hand on your foot and his fingers dancing gently against the top, let his head fall back awkwardly against the hardwood. His head dropped to the side taking in his surroundings and their familiarity. 

“Do you ever get tired of coming back?” 

You hummed, sure you had misheard due to the way the blood was rushing around your ears. He turned to look at you, all double chin and puffy cheeks.

“Of everything being the same, but different?”

His whispers captivated you, hushed confessions not quite meant for anyone else but his own mind yet spilling from him with such an ease that he did nothing to fight them. 

“I’ll admit, I come home for other people. Not for me.”

“People?”

“Mum, Dad,” you paused. “You.”

His smile deepened. His chin knocking down to his chest, his eyes looking up at you from underneath his curling hair from being caught in the moist winter evening just hours before.

“You can stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you did three nights ago.”

Harry breathed in deeply, his nostrils flaring and his chest expanding. A lick of his lips, before his mouth dropped to sit slightly agape. 

“What if I don’t wan’to? What if I want t’look at yer like this all the time?”

You found yourself unable to respond, nose burying itself into your wine glass as you pressed your lips against the cool outside to try and hide your burning smile. 

His lips curled lightly, before he breathed a laugh once and gently shook your foot with his hand. “Eh? Come ‘ere-“

“Harry,” you breathed.

“C’mon, c’mere. ‘S room for more than just your feet.”

If it wasn’t for the creak of your chair as you slowly started to push yourself out of it, you wouldn’t have consciously been aware of how you were making your way to him. 

His body relaxed, somehow managing to become closer to horizontal than sitting upright in his seat, as he peered as you walking the short distance over to him. 

With his legs widened, he pressed his face into your side now that you were close enough. His nose inhaled the familiar scent of your perfume which was only faint now due to the other senses and scents it had mixed with throughout the evening.

Rolling his face out of your body, he knocked his head back and pressed his chin where his face had been. The face you showed him was worn with worry, an expression he did not want to meet.

“‘S wrong?”

His ask was lazy. Not wanting to dig deep and know. What if he didn’t like what he found? 

“We know how this is going to end.”

“Do we?” He prodded. His eyes moved over your features quickly before they partly disappeared to him, thanks to your curtain of hair which slowly fell down.

His hand reached up, desperately brushing it away and cupping at the back of your head as best as he could while he remained seated. 

“How’s that? Tell me.”

“Same, but different.” 

You knew you shouldn’t use his words, not in a way that could be considered against him, but they - in the most ambiguous of ways - described everything perfectly. 

“Not if I have my way.” 

His words were almost lost against your stomach as he pressed his face against you once more and wrapped his hands around you; sweaty, nervous palms pressing to the backs of your thighs. 

“Same, but better.”

Harry guided you down to his lap, his lips somehow managing to remain pressed into stomach, or your chest, or your clavicle, as your face became level with his. 

“Different, but better.” 

He kissed against your cheek slowly, nose nudging at your skin as he willed for you to relax against him. “I don’t know how you like it, like this,” he whispered in confession. “Show me?”

A puff of air left your lips as you turned to look at him with hooded eyes. His mouth was closer to yours than you originally thought, corners of lips brushing as you slightly pulled away. 

When your lips met, it was in the softest of pecks that trembled under your nerves. Both sets of eyes looking back at each other as you innocently engaged. 

If you were to take your eyes away from him in any way, you would notice those fluffy curls of his falling over his forehead and the lightest dusting of red blush making itself known against his cheeks and the tops of his ears.

He felt like a school boy, lost and clumsy. The kid who was once again flicking paper at you in science class just so he could pull a face at you over something your teacher was saying to get you to laugh. 

Mouths hovering over each other, your breathing mixed, as Harry nodded to you slightly. You pressed your lips to his once more, feeling the way he gradually opened up to you, warmed and softened underneath the puckering of your mouth against his. 

His hands, that slightly trembled, smoothed over your hips trying to pull your body so that it was more so flush against his. You moaned softly, your hands running over his jumper covered shoulders, fingers digging and pulling at the material just below the nape of his neck. 

The chair beneath you moved lightly against the floor, not quite a scrape but a dull drag. Neither of you broke the kiss, but his hands against you allowed fingers to dig in to hold you steady to him so if you were to fall from where you were sitting, he still had you. 

His lips slowed, moving to press against your cheeks again as he panted and his warmth breath bounced off your skin. “Think I got it,” he heaved. 

“Do you?”

Harry hummed his ‘yea’, before pressing his lips so tenderly to your chin and the underside of your jaw. He felt how you swallowed heavily, throat dry from the way your mouth hung open and your neck further exposed itself as you lolled your head back. 

You were falling further and further back, finding it hard to stay upright as he devoured you and made you weaker with each pulling kiss. His groans were needy, muffled and making your ache. While yours were silent and making his desperate to pull something from you. To build is confidence in that he was doing something right, you liked it this way too. 

Hands fumbled and dragged upwards at your skirt, faintly aware now how it was similar - if not the same one - to the garment you wore to his show. 

“Gonna take this off properly,” he mumbled, feeling the way your hips moved slightly from his hands to roll over him. 

“You don’t have to-“

“No?” 

Your voices were rushed as you spoke to each other, barely audible but loud enough all the same. His head was knocked back slightly as you hovered over him and you found yourself admiring his blissed out face even only in the lead up.

This was a sight that you hadn’t received last time, and if you had your way it was one you were going to greedily enjoy in all its glory.

Like watching the way his eyes closed and he softly grinned, the left side of his teeth started to show as the one side of his face reacted first while your hands blindly moved to lift up his jumper and the white tee he had on underneath, to allow you to find the button of his corduroys.

“What ya doing?”

“Nothing,” you mused. 

He pulled a face, the kind that down turned his lips, eyebrows raised and head slightly tilted to the side. The kind that had you smiling. 

“Not trying to get m’trousers around m’ankles for a second time within a week then?”

You giggled. “No.”

“Please do.”

A low moan left you as you pressed your forehead to his jaw and dropped your eyes. Your hands slowly started to pull at the brass button and pop it open before seeking out the zip thanks to his desperate plea, encouraging you to continue. 

Hands quickly sought out the waistband of the trousers and gently pulled at the item. From the way that you were sat, you knew there was no way you were doing to make them budge.

“Stand up fo’ me,” he mumbled, quickly helping you get off his lap so that he could make light work of his clothing and pull down his trousers and underwear. 

His bare bum made easy contact with the cushion leather beneath him, eyes carefully watching you as your hands moved to underneath your skirt. 

The fabric of your underwear slipped so easily down your legs, his eyes just about caught the sight of them as they pooled against your ankles and you kicked them away. 

Legs pressed together, you slowly untucked the v-necked blouse you had chosen and pulled it over your head. Wearing nothing but a fancy black bra, and a tight little skirt you hastily snatched for your wine and took a hefty gulp.

You could feel his eyes on you, a gruff groan catching in the back of his throat and when you finally turned your eyes from where they had been looking down at your heaving chest and how great this bra made your boobs look, causing him to move his hand down to start playing with himself. 

His name left your lips in a breathy gasp, causing you to look up quite surprised at the find of his right hand gently tugging at his hard length.

“Keepin’ me waitin’,” he groaned, his left hand sloppily reached for the back of the collar of his jumper and tee, pulling the item roughly over his head.

“Fuck sake,” he mumbled under his breath, agitated that he was unable to get both items of in one go.

“Smooth.”

Harry stared up at you with a playful squint, before he gently fell back and moved the chair as he did so, the dull scrape heard once more. 

And if you didn’t know he was flushed before, when you first kissed, you were definitely aware now. His eyes were blown out and hungry as they devoured you. Hair wildly haphazard before he let go of himself with a soft slap of his skin and harshly pushed his fingers through it.

“‘S it still a couple of quid for a strip of three,” his words brought you back to him. This smugness radiated off of him as he groaned and leaned forward to push his trousers down all of the way. Over his vans and socked feet, before he toed them off as well be harshly pulled at his white sport socks. 

You didn’t even need for him to explain what he meant, staying silent as you watched his hands tug at his corduroys from the floor and retrieve his wallet. As his fingers moved around to find a couple of quid, the jangle of the coins was taunting. 

One leg crossed over the other, you swayed and found yourself blushing when he looked up at you once he’d managed to find enough money and then some. With his wallet thrown on the table, he stood proudly from the seat and closed the short gap between your both.

Leaning forward he easily took your lips with his own before pulling away. With his face still close to yours he whispered, “Promise not to look at my arse.”

He didn’t hang around long enough for your reply, instead turning away and brazenly giving you all the time you would ever need to admire him, his fantastic bum and his hairy legs before he opted for a jog-walk type of thing, suddenly conscious that he was absolutely walking around naked from the waist down in a pub owned by your parents. 

While you waited you took a quick pull from his whiskey, needing the heftier burn for Dutch courage. Nervousness returned when you heard the endings of what you believed to be Harry whistling. 

“Machine ate all m’fuckin’ change,” he grumbled, regardless of the twinkle in his eye at the strip of overpriced condoms he had managed to score from the men’s bathroom. “‘S Durex. Business must be booming, your Dad’s definitely gone up in the world.” 

“Please don’t talk about my Dad.”

He smiled brightly before he reached for your face with one hand and pulled you towards him mumbling his ‘sorry’s’ against your lips as he gave you several kisses in quick succession. 

His other arm loosely wrapped around your back and pulled you with him as he walked backwards and slowly lowered himself back onto his previous seat. The chair creaked as you joined him, slipping into his lap and feeling the way he was smiling now.

Pulling away from your kiss, he quickly tore away one of the condoms allowing the others to fall without much care to the floor. Teeth took a hold of the foil-like packaging and he tore it not so elegantly with his eagerness.

With his cock nestled in the crease of his own thigh now, the heat radiating from it matched your own agonising yearning. Scooting back to give him space, you heard him groan as he gently rolled the condom down onto himself. Eyes looking up just in time to see him knocking his head back and breathing deeply through nose. The foil-like packaging was back in between his teeth once more as his hands were otherwise preoccupied.

Slowly your hand reached up to take it from his mouth, feeling some playful resistance as Harry continued to hold it in his teeth. His eyes were open and boyishly sincere, as you tugged at the item and he finally released it when you lightly laughed. 

“Gi’me a kiss.”

Obliging him, you leant forward and slotted your mouths together a lot easier than you had done at the start of the night. A heat built easily between the two of you, as Harry gave you his tongue and you felt the flex of his jaw under your hand as he worked your mouths together.

He was eager, his hands tightening on your waist before he growled when he understood he had to grab handfuls of skirt before he could cup your backside. But when his skin met yours and you ground down onto his lap, the groan that left him was the most animalistic sound imaginable. 

The frown your face fell into showed your desire to whimper, as he kept you atop him and marvelled in the way you writhed, both from satisfaction and keenness at the pressure of his cock against you. 

“Can I have you again?” He asked, the startings of sweaty hair being pushed off your face. His eyes peered at you, searching for his answer as you seemed to be able to do nothing but pant and look back at him yearningly. “Are you letting me?”

You dragged your fingers down his t-shirt covered torso and lifted it slightly just to see the quiver of his stomach as pulled you onto him once more. 

“Like this?” you voiced, meekly.

“‘F this is what you like then, yea’”, he breathed into your mouth, hands shifting your pliant body. “Is this what you want?”

You wordlessly nod, mouth falling open in a breathy gasp when he managed to move you so he sat so enticingly at your entrance. He was teasing both yourself and him, wanting to keep you both on the edge. 

Harry blinked a few times as he looked at you, and you revelled in the way he couldn’t seem to concentrate. His hands held your flesh tightly, fingertips dipping into the skin of your bum cheeks as he gently guided you down.

An unattractive and dull, quite strangled noise, left your throat as you let your forehead fall against his temple. Eyes falling down you see the cups of your bra fall slack, you felt his hands softly gliding over your shoulder blades and shoulders. 

He rid you of your bra, hands moving to your chest to squeeze your breasts. His jaw fell slack when you found yourself sitting snugly on his lap - on him - settled and already feeling spent.

This was so different compared to the last time; if not overwhelming so because of the way you both appeared to be so present. Each movement of your hips, and the way they rolled and grinded and dragged felt too much. So much so that you had become nothing more than a mess of short, quick breathing and blushing, sweaty cheeks. 

Slack-jaw, you were unable to find it in you to return Harry’s kisses, and his joyful, breathy chuckle seemed to lead you to believe he was fine with it. In fact he was happy to keep going as you were. 

Your movements were frantic, and despite the build up, not entirely driven by lust either. Harry continued to encourage you to move as you were; slow, grinding motions on his lap that caused the filthiest of groans and dirtiest of laughs from the two of you. Laughter that was only made stronger as the chair that held you both started to creak too. 

You couldn’t do much about it though other than to breathe into each other’s mouth, and rock your hips together with more fervour each time. 

“Yea’,” he breathed against your lips, left hand at the back of your head holding you to him, while his right rested just above your bum. “‘S better. That’s better.”

It was better. Better than last time. Better than anything before. 

And while it hadn’t been frantic before, it was now as your legs that were hanging down either side of the chair started to tremble and your toes started to dig into the worn carpet beneath them. Hips knocking and your clit dragging heavenly against his public bone, you grasped his name as you buried your face into his neck and dug your nails into his nape.

Harry hissed his approval which fell to a groan as your nails pushed up into his hair and lightly pulled as you sought leverage. There were so many things you were learning this time around and his penchant for liking his hair pulled from time to time, was one of those things. 

“God, ‘m gonna come soon,” he admitted, gruntly as he forced your hips down as he anchored his legs and widened his seating position. “Are you close?”

“Yeah,” you whined. “Yes. Like this-“

And as you pressed your face to his once more, he was everywhere. Soft but hard, loving but commanding. Smelled like clean washing detergent but of country air. Inviting and alluring, allowing you your lingering kisses between grounding breaths that became staccato in unison with the movement of your hips. 

You aren’t ashamed of the whines that escaped your throat as you squeezed down on his cock, praised by indecipherable works that left Harry but were nothing more to you than lips moving against your rough and dry ones. Word that made the burning feeling of your pending orgasm spread through your entire body, warming you and setting you alight.

It was long and deep, with your toes curling into the carpet they were pressed against now. Barely able to catch your breath, sucking in harshly and shaking. 

And when you came to, thoroughly exhausted, you noticed that he was waiting for your say so. That he could let go and enjoy the pleasure brought about by your shared labour. 

“Coming-“ was all the warning that you got and was enough to encourage you to watch him as he came, his face completely void of anything other than pure pleasure. Wrinkles and frowns fade, his mouth falling open with his pink lips glinting prettily under the dim Christmas lights around you.

His forehead gleamed with sweat as he wrapped his arms around you tightly and his hips bucked up one, two and three times for good measure. “Fuck me,” he heaved gruffly.

You were suddenly desperate to feel his lips on yours despite the way you both continued to fight to get your breath back, but settled for resting them against the skin of his cheek, which was hot to the touch. 

When you felt Harry start to go soft, you reluctantly pulled away and let him slip out of you. He wasn’t so keen to let you get too far, holding you just that bit higher than before with his hand cupping gently but firmly at your hip. “Where’d you think you’re going,” he hummed, eyes still closed as he continued to heavily inhale and exhale. 

You softly smiled, taking in his soft face and responded by nuzzling close to him again. 

Nowhere. Somewhere. Anywhere with him.

A place where only the two of you knew, like the back of your hand. The same way you knew each other. Now and possibly forever.

[matthewbeilschmidts]

It’s been a long while since I’ve posted but I’m so glad that I am :’)

This is for Day 1: of @prucanweek - Ordinary

Apologies for spelling errors, it’s a little short but I hope you enjoy 😭💞

-

Matthew doesn’t mind that he’s living an ordinary life. Really.

He grows up near the coast, two parents, a fraternal twin brother, and their gangly hairless cat, Tony (picked curtesy of Alfred). Their parents take them everywhere they can during their childhood, the beach, museums, sports game. They focus on their interests, figuring out what the two like and dislike, as they encourage them both to be themselves and do what they love no matter what. Alfred debates between whether he likes wrestling or football more, while Matthew settles into hockey. In between family get togethers, community festivals, and endless sports training, they somehow have time for homework. (The two share answers a lot.)

He and Alfred each have their own rooms when they enter their teen years, a space to decorate and fill with their own mementos and awards. The sports continue, but later their parents find themselves a little bit busier than before. They do though, give them as much time as they can during the school year, never wanting them to go without someone by their side.

Matthew fades into the background a little bit as they get older, while Alfred puts himself front and center. Matthew watches once with a hand over his eyes as Alfred auditions for the school musical, and surprisingly he read and sings the lines well. “It’s always the rowdy ones!” their theater teachers says after he’s finished performing, a mix of anticipation from planning on putting Alfred on stage and dread at the thought of having to manage him.

Matthew silently supports him, after all he has his own things to do.

He’s the co-caption of the hockey team, the coach giving him the position to give him a little more of a voice, and his teammates verbally agree, considering on the ice Matthew has a lot more to show than he does in person. He accepts, albeit hesitantly.

By the time graduation comes by, Matthew can barely believe how the time has passed. His team even wins a championship under his watch. Some of his fellow classmates look so ready to go out and experience the world, and it’s scary to him because weren’t they all going at the same pace?

His parents talk him through picking his college of choice, and he decides to go. He needs to do what everyone does and experience the world.

And if he decides he wants to come home, that’s okay because at least he tries.

-

He’s in his first art class during his third year at university. The time has been going well, he’s got pretty decent grades and has managed to join a few clubs. But he’s not done yet. Extra curriculars, can’t finish without them. He prioritizes his general education first, and even slips himself into a few major classes early on, but humanities is on record now and has to be completed no matter what one’s studying.

He can get through one semester, he hopes.

Next to him, a student is snickering and the professor doesn’t look amused.

“Gilbert.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“If you’re done, I can introduce myself now.”

The professor goes in with complete, in-depth introductory slides with her name and credentials, and a briefing of all they will overcome this semester.

He’s never been an artist, at least not one that picks up a pencil and creates a realistic masterpiece with nothing but that and a pad of paper. Maybe some poetry contests in high school, if that counts. The written word has its own impact, its own set of colors to breathe out for the world to see.

There’s another snicker, interrupting his internal monologue.

He doesn’t say anything, because he doesn’t know the student, and it’s not his place to control others. But, if it starts to hinder the class, maybe he’ll tell him something. He’s paying to be there, too.

The man catches him staring.

“Yes?” he asks Matthew without being spoken to in the first place.

“Oh,” Matthew flushes at being caught, not that he was trying to hide it anyway. “Well, she didn’t say anything funny?”

The guys waves a hand, making a “psssh” noise as he does.

“I’m just laughing because of how formal this all is. She won’t be this dignified later in the semester that’s for sure. She’ll be ripping her hair out.”

Matthew glances back, he doesn’t want to say anyone looks mean but, he would believe it if she was.

“You look scared,” the guy laughs, which is rude because isn’t he the one that just put the thought in Matthew’s mind? “She’s not too mean just a sticker to the rules. Will get real pissy if something doesn’t go right.”

“And you still set her off knowing that?”

The man laughs again, but this time around he’s actually trying to contain it behind the thin art easel. He’s not very hidden.

“She’s my cousin’s wife.”

Ah, that makes sense then? Messing with family is normal, but also he shouldn’t be bothering her at work.

“It’s no wonder you seemed casual.”

“She taught both of the lower division figure drawing classes, too. This is my third semester in her class. She’s the only one teaching this specific class I didn’t have too much of a choice.”

“Art major?”

“Yep! And you?”

“Psychology major. I have to get in some cultural classes.”

“Ever taken art?”

“Actually no, not even in high school. I got through that stuff by working backstage in the theater department.”

“Well not to worry my friend, because you picked the best one.”

“Is it easy to pass?”

“Nope. Well, maybe if she likes your work,” Matthew deflates at the blunt response, “but don’t worry because I’m here to be your guide.”

Matthew perks up, but it takes him a moment. This guy’s gonna help him?

“Are you any good?”

“Am I good?” He looks perplexed Matthew would even ask. Matthew has to cover his own amusement. “I may not look it but charcoal and I go way back. I’ll show you my work later as proof.”

“Deal.”

“Gilbert, since you’re adamant on talking, you can be the first to introduce yourself.”

Even if his name wasn’t said, Matthew feels just as guilty. Caught, for talking on the first day of all things.

“Gilbert Beilshcmidt. Fourth year. I’m an art major and my favorite breakfast food is pancakes.”

Matthew looks surprised that he was paying attention, even to the last addition of their introduction. Matthew’s not sure he would have known considering he was distracted.

-

And so their friendship starts.

-

Gilbert sits next to him again. And again.

Where ever Matthew sits in the art room, Gilbert follows not too long after.

Some days they take the sitting desks, some they stand and lean against the stools.

And despite not even talking much, Gilbert treats him like a friend.

-

“Do you have any plans this afternoon?”

“Nope, this was my last class.”

“Do you want to get some coffee and work on our sketch books.”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

-

Matthew finds himself meeting Gilbert in his downtime. Every Thursday after drawing for three hours becomes the day they meet. At first, all they do is draw, little more.

Gilbert is animated in all moments, but he has short spurts where he focuses exceptionally on his work. Matthew is no art critic, but he thinks Gilbert expresses himself quite well on paper. Graphite, charcoal, and pastels, all the utensils glide easily without a single stroke missing its mark.

Watercolor though, could use some work, which actually happens to be Matthew’s favorite. Even if the intention is to guide the colors with a brush, it’s okay for them to take a life of their own spreading across the thick paper.

They share snacks, art supplies, and their time.

Gilbert proves himself very useful as he promised. Matthew though never planning to be the next Van Gogh, has to pass this class. And it would be nice to pass it with flying colors, but some concepts are harder to grasp than others.

It’s obvious to tell he’s a beginner, while Gilbert excels. Matthew finds out he only now needs the intro class since it’s the first semester it became a requirement.

Gilbert helps him find the shapes he’s comfortable with, explains the processing for hatching and how it relates to shading. And while he’s no expert, he sees a subtle improvement over the next few weeks that makes some pride swell within himself.

-

“Do you want to come with me and my friends to this cool bar for dinner on Friday?” Gilbert asks about a month into the semester.

It’s the first time Gilbert and him will have spent time off campus.

“Yeah, I’d love to.”

-

Gilbert’s friends are just as animated as he, it’s almost hard to keep up. Overwhelming as they are, they’re extremely welcoming. Matthew eases into the atmosphere, joining in when he can but mostly pleased to be out and doing something different.

He’s made friends during his time, but like him they’re a little more reserved and pick quieter places on the town.

It’s fun. And he wants to go out again.

Matthew invites Gilbert and his friends to watch his next hockey game.

After their shock in finding out he plays such a violent sport, they’re all agreeing and planning to find the best seats in the arena.

-

“Are you serious. Are you hiding muscles under that red sweater?”

Gilbert pokes at him, it tickles when he gets closer to his biceps, but he knows he’s only teasing.

“You think I’m playing but I’m serious! You should have been there, well you were there. On the stands, I mean. We all screamed after you sent that player flying against the wall.”

Gilbert recreates the motions, but only slams himself into the wall and whines after he bounces back. He then plays it off like it doesn’t hurt. Gilbert’s not a very good actor.

People tell him it’s so much different watching him on the ice, but it’s still him. He’s always wondered how much different, he feels like himself. He just knows he goes into the zone when he’s in his gear. He just wants to win. And he will.

“It’s like night day,” Gilbert continues. “You were ready to kill a man down there.”

“You’re not the first to say that. I guess maybe, I could be a little more out there in real life, huh?”

Gilbert stops walking.

“Nope.”

“Nope?”

“You’re perfectly fine the way you are. I like the way you are, so don’t go change. I don’t want to be at risk of dying during art class.”

And as silly as it sounds, he’s pleased. He likes Gilbert a whole lot, too. Just the way he is.

-

“Do you want to have dinner with me?” Matthew takes the initiative.

“Dinner?”

“Yeah, just you and me. I want to take you out.”

“Like you did to that guy on the court,” Gilbert laughs nervously.

“On a date. Gilbert, would you like go out with me?”

He says yes.

Later that evening when he’s heading home, Gilbert starts running through the courtyard cheering that “I have a date with the cutest guy I’ve ever met!”

Matthew’s window is open, he’s face is bright red and he slams head first into his pillow. He needs to plan the best first date ever.

-

Three months into dating, he’s finally heading home again for a school break. He wants to take Gilbert with him, who is waiting for the next major holiday to go back home. But isn’t it too soon? They haven’t been dating that long, after all.

But Gilbert surprises him, and jokingly says he wants to go with him because he’ll miss him too much while he’s gone. And then, Matthew asks if he seriously wants to go.

“I do.”

So they ride the 3 hours train down to Matthew’s childhood home. He’s a little bit nervous, because he’s had dates to school dances, and brought friends over, but this is entirely different. This is someone he wants to take a serious step with, even if the time hasn’t been that long. They’ll never get anywhere if they don’t, so they’ll both take the leap and pray it works out.

“Mom, dad, Alfred, this is Gilbert.”

It’s the most timid Matthew’s ever seen him.

“Nice to meet ya, I’m Matthew’s boyfriend.”

After he shakes all their hands, he takes his hand back to link pinkies with Matthew.

There’s not an once of regret in his mind as the long weekend passes.

-

Gilbert graduates the next year, and the year after it’s his turn. They’re going to move in with each other. Gilbert really has no irresistible urge to go back to his home town, satisfied with just visiting a few times a year. And Matthew thinks he would like to go back closer, just to figure out his next move. So, they go together.

It’s only a one bedroom, but is more than enough space for them both. Gilbert finds work as a docent while Matthew works for a second degree in education.

He still plays hockey for a local league, Gilbert becoming their number one fan. They find their own rhythm, a pace that works for them both, where they can settle down or speed up when they agree with each other. Dewey mornings, warm summers, chilly evenings they spend them altogether.

They decide move up North closer to Gilbert’s hometown. Matthew’s more nervous meeting his grandparents than he was introducing Gilbert to his own family, but Gilbert assures him again and again they’re just a stuffy old family who actually really care about each other a lot more than they let off.

Gilbert’s grandfather towers over him, despite being a hair above 6 feet. He’s silent, eyes boring into Matthew as he introduces himself. And to end all of Matthew’s worries, the elder man pulls Matthew into a hug and tells him he’s glad him and Gilbert are home. Gilbert, just as perplexed as he, stares, but he melts into a pleased laugh.

Yeah, this is his and Gilbert’s home now.

-

They stay, for a long while, contemplate moving a few times, but they’re satisfied for now.

Gilbert and him always make time for each other, continue their own respective interests with complete support of the other. They’re never afraid to complain, because they always work through it rather then let it simmer.

Gilbert’s vivacious spirit keep them going, and Matthew’s heart keeps them grounded.

His life at first seem a little bit ordinary, but how can he complain when the pieces of the puzzle fit themselves in and stayed locked in tight.

[vocalyunho]

Strawberry Kisses

pairing — Yunho x reader (fem, referred to as ‘she’)

genre — fluff, smut

word count — 3k

warnings + tags — third person narrative mode, this fic portraits a hypothetical reader, all characteristics & traits are used incidentally, Yunho’s hella whipped and soft for reader + Yunho with butterfly hair clips, finger sucking, inexperienced reader, handjob, fingering, clit play.

synopsis — Yunho will never forget the first time he heard her needy voice, the one that proved everything she wanted without having to say a word.

Yunho thought she was a work of art, one he couldn’t take his eyes off of. Regardless of how many times he had told her, she could never control the pink blush that creeped up her cheeks every single time. He wanted her to accept it, he wanted her to know he meant it, but she never did. She belittled herself and Yunho hated it.

Every little flaw and every (in)significant trait of hers was precious to Yunho. They were the reasons why he fell for her in the first place. Later, though, he found more of them and now he can even make a list, preferably on papyrus, -for dramatic reasons- like those you see on cartoons. He already knew she’d make fun of him for even thinking that, but he knew exactly what he’d put on that list, one by one...

Her lips were always plump and cherry colored, though if he kissed her, she tasted like strawberry and Yunho could never get enough of it. The way she’d nibble on her bottom lip after they kissed, like they shouldn’t have, made his head spin uncontrollably. Even the wrinkle of her nose whenever she laughed had his heartbeat increasing in a matter of seconds. But what he admired most was the hope and the million little galaxies that danced in her eyes every time she looked at him. Yunho could easily get lost in them and he had noticed that he had, a couple of times before. The galaxies only disappeared the times she was upset. Then, the disappointment or anger were all he saw in her in the form of a soft gaze. Her cheeks would turn red and her eyebrows would either furrow or raise, each time forming little wrinkles on her forehead that Yunho wanted to caress. Her lips would pout and, maybe, tremble if she couldn’t control her emotions, but these were, always, only temporary.

When she talked, her hands would fly everywhere, gesturing, showing, bringing the conversation into life as if what she talked about was the most majestic thing someone would hear. Yunho cherished her for that because she made him love the little things. She talked about them like they were the most important thing ever and the way her eyes widened and her body tensed, proved it.

When she walked, sometimes it seemed like she did it hesitantly, not really wanting to go anywhere, as if someone had forced her to go. Other times, she jumped around while walking, little legs moving fast, backpack bouncing up and down on her back and phone struggling to stay in the little pocket of her pants. However, Yunho always managed to keep up with her and her pace.

As for her fashion, it wasn’t stable. Though, she did have a fair amount of mom jeans she wore on a daily basis if the occasions let her. Yunho didn’t know they were called ‘mom jeans’. In, fact, he didn’t know jeans had names. When she first told him about ‘mom jeans’, ‘boyfriend jeans’, ‘bootcut jeans’, he felt like his entire life was a lie. So many different types and he had no idea! After he got a hold of her taste in fashion, he started noticing other small details about it on her. She liked tucking her shirt inside her pants, she loved colored cardigans and oversized sweaters and he couldn’t help but notice the way she rolled up the bottom of her jeans. Her ankles and socks were on full display most of the time, and even if she had told him this was just a fashion statement, he knew this was her way of letting the world know of her bisexuality.

Necklaces were her favorite accessories. She had hundreds of them and Yunho didn’t complain because he found them hot. He always had a thing for necks and especially hers, so seeing her decorating it with pretty necklaces did something to him and his newly discovered kink. The rings were her second favourite accessory, Yunho had found out. Just like her neck, her fingers were always decorated too and, sometimes, she’d even lend some of her dearest rings to Yunho. Not the one her grandma had gifted her, though. This one was always on her index finger and no matter what, it never left its spot.

Her voice was soft and when she talked it was like honey was dripping from her lips right into Yunho’s ears. He’d figured out it was the timbre that made it so special, not the tone neither the words she used. When she talked about her day, Yunho would zone out sometimes not because of boredom but because he gave more attention to the vibrations of her voice and its rhythm, unintentionally. He loved listening how it changed depending on how she felt, one moment she was happy and it echoed like a melody, the next minute she was disappointed and it came out in whines through pouted lips, but he never found it annoying. However, she had a terrible singing voice and even if she knew it, she liked singing her heart out in karaoke’s or during showers, making Yunho make fun of her afterwards, which always led to giggles from them both and occasional make-out sessions on the couch of her small living room.

You can tell, he loved the variety of emotions she showed only through her voice, but his favorite one was her desperate voice, the one that proved need and the one only he had ever heard. He’ll never forget the first time he heard it. It was a night they had decided to stay in and watch movies instead of going out in the coldness of winter. They were cuddling, after having watched Harry Potter and the philosopher’s stone. The ending titles were lowly playing in the background as they talked about the books and how she loved them but Yunho hated, because he found them boring. She was a pouting mess from the disappointment that her boyfriend didn’t like the books she’s been reading since she was young but Yunho couldn’t stop staring at her lips, not giving a damn about the books and the movies.

“how can you prefer the prepared world of the movies, instead of the one you can create by yourself while reading the books?”

Her eyes glistened and the pouting revealed a dimple on her chin, Yunho had never seen before.

“the prepared world entertains me more”

He shrugged with heavy eyes, and moved his hand up to take her chin between his fingers. His thumb brushed the dimple, pressing on the small dent before resting on it. She didn’t respond to his previous answer, instead she remained silent and after a while Yunho travelled his thumb up to her lips which stayed closed. Her eyes were on his, totally leaving their previous conversation in the past, and as he pressed his thumb on her glossed lip she let it fall open slowly.

Yunho didn’t think much of it and after playfully pulling her bottom lip with his thumb, he pushed the digit inside her mouth. She whimpered and her eyes fluttered but before Yunho could pull it out, afraid that he shouldn’t have done something like this, she wrapped her lips around it. Her tongue brushed hesitantly the underside of it, her nostrils expanding to exhale through her nose in an attempt not to let his finger leave her mouth and Yunho only stayed there, watching her closely. His lips opened agape loosely, the feeling was new both to Yunho and her but they loved it.

He felt himself starting to lose control of his body. His bulge had already started creating a tent on his grey sweatpants and he could do nothing to stop it. She moved her head backwards to take his thumb out of her mouth only to lick the tip and press it in again. Yunho groaned at the sight, momentarily picturing his cock replacing the finger between her lips and as she kept bobbing her head, ever so slowly, soft moans vibrated his thumb.

She was sitting on his lap with her back against the couch and Yunho’s back against the sofa arm, their bodies creating a cross and, at a sudden moment, he felt her pressing her legs together. Everything was so new. His free hand rested on her exposed thigh, but no one’s eyes left each other’s. She was in her underwear, with only a yellow t-shirt -that was his- covering most of her body. It wasn’t weird, she’s usually dressed like this when they stay in. His fingers trailed the flabby skin on the inner side of her thigh until he stopped it right under her panties and when he squeezed it, she flinched with a louder moan getting trapped inside her closed mouth.  

“fuck”

She left his thumb with a pop and the pouty lips were back, tempting him to sin.

“I…don’t know what that was, I’m sorry”, he had told her but he knew exactly what that was, both of them knew.

“Yunho, I need you”

Her voice was small, similar to the one she used when she whispered into his ear during class, but not similar to the context. Her eyes became puppy-like and as he was about to think this was the cutest state he’s ever seen her in, her hand moved to rest on top of the small tent on his crotch. Yunho’s breath hitched, her palm was on top of him, slowly closing her fist and taking him in her hand as she did. He needed her so bad, too.

She noticed the sudden difference in his body language “is this okay?” she asked hesitantly, ready to stop her action, if needed.

“y-yes please keep doing t-that”

She wasn’t very experienced, neither was he, but it was like her hand was moving magically on him. She mentally decided that his sweats were too much of an obstacle, so her hand went slowly under it and under his underwear too before grabbing him with her entire palm. A worried lip got trapped between her teeth because she had no idea of what to do next, but the friction she offered, felt like heaven to Yunho.

In a moment, he giggled and she looked at him worriedly, a pink blush already creeping up her cheeks. Yunho pecked her lips and gave a caress on her thigh to reassure that he loved all of it but he never told her what he giggled for. He never told her that he found it too cute that her hand was too small to wrap around his length completely. She seemed to forget fast about it though as he groaned close to her lips and, at that, she gave him a squeeze that made him jolt. His pre cum had already spread through her movements, giving her the chance to go faster and she did. Only a tad bit, though, because she wanted him to feel it all. Her thumb stopped on his slit after a few strokes and Yunho moaned loudly, feeling his body getting weaker. His head fell back as she massaged it and the rough texture of her digit against the little opening had curses slipping out his mouth in whispers. The moment she pressed particularly hard on the tip, he brought his head back up so fast that his hair fell on his face.

Now it was her turn to giggle, her confidence boosting, and before he could push the loose strands back, her free hand grabbed one of the butterfly clips on her hair and placed it on Yunho’s. With a small clicking sound, it stayed there, the bright blue color of its wings contrasting the pink of his hair. It felt surreal. One of her hands did something so innocent while the other sinned.

Yunho felt his heart skipping a beat. It was going too fast, anyways, but seeing her being thoughtful even in this case, sent the butterfly from his hair right into his stomach. He wanted nothing more than to pin her down and make her see stars right that instant, but instead she was the one who was leading him to that.

Yunho grunted loudly. She changed her movements into quicker and shorter ones, pumping only the middle part of him and making the lewd sounds echo louder. Her short nails got barely dragged over the sensitive skin of his cock and Yunho hissed, letting his face take an unreadable expression.

“do you-do you like that?”

“baby girl y-yes, keep doing that”

Shock waves were sending electricity throughout his body, his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down with force and the slight sweat that glistened on the side of his neck proved he was close.

A weird feeling travelled all the way from where her hand was pumping him to his ears, turning them the same hue of red, his tip had. He felt like his entire body was burning, a burn that had his mind spinning and his legs trembling. He knew exactly what that was and how close to release she had brought him, but he didn’t want it to end like that.

He tried his best not to give into it and with a move slower than her strokes, he rested his hand on top of hers and her gaze met his “I’m sorry baby b-but...” he inhaled sharply “...I’d much rather come inside you than on your hhand”. Her eyes widened and her little shenanigans stopped but Yunho got the chance to calm his breath and move the hand that was on her thigh, upwards, closer to where she needed him the most.

“Yunho-”, she gasped. Her legs closed, trapping Yunho’s hand in between them and her own hand that was on his member found his wrist. He pressed a finger against her panties, making her tighten her hold and bite her lip. Yunho had noticed from moments ago the little circle stain of wetness that had formed on her underwear. He knew he was the reason behind it but he also wanted to be the reason behind her relief. Just some inches above the stain, he found the magic bud and pressed on it, receiving a low moan from her. Her head fell against the couch and her hand, even though on his wrist that was between her legs, didn’t stop him. Yunho circled the bundle of nerves, feeling it swollen against his thumb as her moans became more frequent, and progressively more loud “does that feel good?”

She didn’t dare to open her eyes or bring her head up “y-yes”

He chuckled but his concentration was on how her expressions changed in a matter of seconds. Just before, she was giggling, leading him to his climax, yet now she had given into him and his touch and Yunho couldn’t help but think that, maybe, this is how she’ll look when he’s inside her. He was still hard, but tried his best not to touch himself. His middle finger pushed the fabric of her panties to the side slowly, and before giving her a warning he pushed the digit in.

“ohmygod Yunho-”, she cried out and her legs fell open. Yunho brought her head up by the nape until their faces were inches away from each other’s, their brows were furrowed, their noses were already touching and Yunho could feel her heavy breath against his lips. Only when he kissed her, did he realize how dry her lips were. It was the first time they felt like this, like all the moisture had left them, though the strawberry taste was still planted on them.

“I’m gonna c-cum”, her eyelashes fluttered close and her voice was barely a whisper.

“will you do it for me?”

“y-yes”, he twitched.

Her hips started moving against his fingers, the friction becoming more intense and the wetness increasing. Yunho was sure that if he detached his hand from her heat, he’d see a string of her soft silk connecting them, but he didn’t stop. He needed to see her falling off the edge for him, because of him. She convulsed and he felt it, but Yunho added his index finger in her warm hole too. Moans filled his open mouth and high pitched cries he couldn’t get enough of, as he pumped them slowly. The whole place was spinning for her, Yunho being the center of her attention, and the only colours she could tell apart were the ones of his hair and the butterfly clip’s. Her upper body was trembling too, now, and Yunho wrapped his free hand around her waist to keep her steady, but she cried out louder “pplease don’t stop-”

“come for me honeybun”

They hadn’t realized how their foreheads never left each other’s, nor how the entire couch was shaking. The pumping of his fingers quickened and so did the circles on her clit. Her eyebrows were furrowing and unfurrowing on their own and the squelchy sound of her wetness getting fucked into her, echoed in the almost silent living room.

Electricity travelled throughout her, when her high reached her and her body stopped functioning almost completely except for the sudden flickering of her muscles. Her jaw went completely slack and her notes were as high pitched as before, only now the waves of her voice were trembling too. The hold on Yunho’s wrist tightened sensibly and as she came, he pulled his fingers out of her seeing the thick, white liquid glisten on them.

Her moans were weak but full of need and her chest was rising and falling fast, until her body stopped jerking and she moved her hand from Yunho’s wrist to his palm to intertwine their fingers. Her release got spread between their hands but she didn’t mind it and bit on her lip in an attempt to stop her sounds, before resting her forehead against his again “Yunho-”

“take me, right here...pplease”

[painless-innit-colourful]

The Light Behind Their Eyes

It’s been a long-time headcanon of mine that the songs of Conventional Weapons exist in the universe of Dangers Days. And I’m sure you can guess which one this fic concerns... After a few terrible weeks for the rebels, there’s a special guest on Dr Death’s radio show, and they’ve got a very special message for the Zones.

It's been a bad few weeks in the Zones.

It began almost three weeks ago, when Dr D announced over the airwaves that Jet Star and the Kobra Kid got themselves dusted. Since then, it's been almost every night; killjoy names no one you know has ever heard of being given their two words on the evening 'cast. S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W sightings are more frequent, and claps happen every few hours. BLI seems to finally be cracking down on the desert rebels like they once promised they would, and it's leaving crews down members and everyone losing hope. Some say 'Destroya and the Pheonix Witch have abandoned us', but you try to hold out hope. Destroya protects the droids foremost, and only heaven knows if they're currently having as bad a time as the 'joys. As for the Pheonix Witch... Supposed sightings have dried up, but you're not surprised. With all the dustings lately, she must be busy. Whispers throughout the desert say they can hear the ghosts of the passed killjoys shouting out in the static, singing their songs long into the night in a spiritual procession through the sand wastes. A parade of death, like a cemetery drive on the move. It's a depressing thought, but it holds up to reason. The mailbox is full.

You're alone tonight; you needed some air. The campfire's been burning for hours, and though it could attract some less than wanted attention, it's a put it out or go inside kind of night. Next to it sits an empty can of Power Pup (it's been tasting worse recently) and your radio. It blares some old Mad Gear song, which Dr D introduced as a "favourite of our Fab Four" when it started. His intros have been weirdly short these past few hours. You sit back and try to enjoy the last thirty seconds or so of the song. The sun set hours ago, and the stars are out. You wonder if the old dust trails about ghosted 'joys becoming stars are true.

"Alright, children," Dr Death's nightly greeting sounds out into the night air. "The lights are out, and the party's over. But before I go, I've got one more treat for you." In the background, while he talks, you hear the strained tones of an acoustic guitar being tuned. That gets your attention. Guitars - electric ones - are common at Zone concerts, but since they're so quiet, no one plays acoustic guitars. The only other time you've ever heard one was when you came across a half-broken thing with your crew in the burnt-out shell of an old building. No one could figure out how to make it sound anything but rusty. "I've got an old friend with a pretty shiny piece of junk here, and they'd like to play you a song. Let's just say, you won't get this at none o' your Mad Gear shows. Sing yourselves to sleep tumbleweeds, and don't let the static swallow you up. Goodnight." There's a moment of quiet as whoever shuffles towards the microphone, and you hit the 'record' button on your radio just as Dr D softly utters: "S'all your's Party." The archaic tape recorder splutters and whirrs to life, wheezing from disuse before the little crimson light blinks on, just as whoever it is in the Dr's studio starts to strum gently. You sit back again as they begin to sing:

"So long to all my friends, / Every one of them met tragic ends."

Somewhere in the second line, their voice breaks and Dr D murmurs something you don't catch. Their playing isn't amazing, but the guitar seems to almost be crying its notes, surrounding them in emotion, though maybe that's just you. These past weeks have been harsh, and you haven't heard something so gentle in a long time.

"With every passing day, / I'd be lying if I didn't say / That I miss them all tonight / And if they only knew what I would say,"

Something about the lyrics makes you want to go get your crew and hold them tight, protect them from the elements and BLInd and whatever's out there in the static to be afeared of. Everyone in the desert knows someone who's recently joined the parade of the dead, whether they were your best mate or the chilly weirdo you got into a fight over PP prices with at Tommy's. You wonder if the singer has lost someone recently too.

"If I could be with you tonight, / I would sing you to sleep / Never let them take the light behind your eyes / One day I'll lose this fight / As we fade in the dark / Just remember you will always burn as bright."

The desert seems to grow still around you, as even the wind stops to listen to the melody of the 'joy on the radio. Who is that? You recognise their voice somewhat: you've heard them in the background of Dr Death's broadcasts before, and any voice on the radio that isn't one of the DJs or Cherri Cola gets your attention. Right before they started singing Dr D called them Party... You wrack your brain for any Killjoys with Party in the name, and the only one that comes to mind is Party Poison, of the Fab Four. Could it be them? Dr D said before that last Mad Gear song that it was a "favourite of our Fab Four", and the loss of Party's friend and brother was the beginning of this awful few weeks for all the Zones so... it could make sense. Then again, maybe it isn't.

"Be strong and hold my hand, / Time it comes for us, you'll understand / We'll say goodbye today, / And I'm sorry how it ends this way, / If you promise not to cry, / Then I'll tell you just what I would say-"

Their voice grows stronger, more sure of themself as they sing, though they break again a little on "promise not to cry". As they get louder, someone (presumably Dr D) starts drumming using his desk, and the wind around you picks back up, whipping sand into a frenzy and nearly dousing your campfire early. You can hear something far away in the desert; the wind is moaning, and the sky responds.

"If I could be with you tonight, / I would sing you to sleep / Never let them take the light behind your eyes / I'll fail and lose this fight / Never fade in the dark / Just remember you will always burn as bright."

The passion behind their words sounds like a promise. The wind intensifies; the desert itself is howling, the sand puts your campfire out and leaves you alone in the noisy silence. Your empty Power Pup can is scooped up by the wind and tossed away, clanging against something on the way down, the sound like mournful crying. Without the firelight, the stars that suddenly fill the once-empty expanse above grow brighter to compensate. You shuffle closer to your radio and turn it up slightly, and hear the song of a defiant killjoy join the cacophonous fray:

"The light behind your eyes. / The light behind your- / Sometimes we must grow stronger and / You can't be stronger in the dark. / When I'm here, no longer / You must be stronger and-"

As the singing 'joy enters the bridge, something appears in the sandstorm. People: killjoys, running, dancing, singing in unheard voices, laughing to jokes never heard. Their colours are brighter than the stars, their smiles wider than the Zones. They are walking as one, up and down the dunes, a heaving mass of people celebrating, firing rayguns into the dark, toasting Power Pup like it doesn't taste like dog food. Someone else appears before you as you grab your radio and hold it tight, lest the wind carries it off. You look up to see her dark cloak, her halo of violet light, her mask staring back. As the sandstorm rages and the wind tears at you like needles, it snatches at the top of your head, taking your mask as it rests there. It flies away towards her at speed, and she catches it in an outstretched hand. The dancing 'joys shine brighter for a moment, and something in the pit of your stomach makes you feel weightless. You start to rise to your feet, but she steps forward, her hand reaching towards your own.

"If I could be with you tonight, / I would sing you to sleep / Never let them take the light behind your eyes / I failed and lost this fight / Never fade in the dark / Just remember you will always burn as bright. / The light behind your eyes."

The Pheonix Witch stands before your trembling form and presses your mask back into your shaking hand. She steps away, and you feel lightheaded, the dancing lights burning too bright, a hundred stars leaping skyward. She turns and walks towards the procession of ghosted killjoys, leaving you once again alone in the sand. The colours of the procession fade to greys and blacks, and then altogether. The Witch disappears, and you see your vision blur with tears. You slump sideways and lie there in the desert, at the centre of a sandstorm, radio clutched to your heart, mask scrunched in one hand. You vaguely hear the singer repeat the last line "The light behind your eyes” again, and again, and again, like a lullaby into the night.

When you wake, it's all white noise. At some point the tape recorder stopped - you're not sure how, as your radio is still clutched to your chest. Your mask is still in hand. You shake off the sand that's piled around you.

The sandstorm. You check for grazes, but nothing hurts. It's freezing, you realise, and still hours away from sunrise, or alarm clock radiation, as one of your crew likes to call it. You better get inside before you die of hypothermia or something. You turn off the radio and head into the building in which your crew are sleeping.

Somewhere in the desert, a crow caws.

---

Taglist: @chaoticemopigeon @antikalvinclub (remember this thing?!)

[bananaofswifts]

Taylor Swift appears to be waging war over the serial resale of her old master recordings on two fronts. She recently confirmed that she is already underway in the process of re-recording the six albums she made for the Big Machine label, in order to steer her fans (and sync licensing execs) toward the coming alternate versions she’ll control. But now that she’s followed the surprise release of “Folklore” with the very, very surprise release of “Evermore” less than five months later, the thought may occur: If she keeps up this pace, she may have more new albums out on the Republic label than she ever did on Big Machine in a quarter of the time. Flooding the zone to further crowd out the oldies is unlikely to be Swift’s real motivation for giving the world a full-blown “Folklore” sequel this instantaneously: As motivations for prolific activity go, relieving and sublimating quarantine pressure is probably even better than revenge. Anyway, this is not a gift horse to be looked in the mouth. “Evermore,” like its mid-pandemic predecessor, feels like something that’s been labored over — in the best possible way — for years, not something that was written and recorded beginning in August, with the bow said to be put on it only about a week ago. Albums don’t get graded on a curve for how hastily they came together, or shouldn’t be, but this one doesn’t need the handicap. It’d be a jewel even if it’d been in progress forevermore and a day.The closest analog for the relation the new album bears to its predecessor might be one that’d seem ancient to much of Swift’s audience: U2 following “Achtung Baby” with “Zooropa” while still touring behind the previous album. It’s hard to remember now that a whole year and a half separated those two related projects; In that very different era, it seemed like a ridiculously fast follow-up. But the real comparison lies in how U2, having been rewarded for making a pretty gutsy change of pace with “Achtung,” seemed to say: You’re okay with a little experimentation? Let’s see how you like it when we really boil things down to our least commercial impulses, then — while we’ve still got you in the mood.Swift isn’t going avant-garde with “Evermore.” If anything, she’s just stripping things down to even more of an acoustic core, so that the new album often sounds like the folk record that the title of the previous one promised — albeit with nearly subliminal layers of Mellotrons, flutes, French horns and cellos that are so well embedded beneath the profuse finger-picking, you probably won’t notice them till you scour the credits. But it’s taking the risk of “Folklore” one step further by not even offering such an obvious banger (irony intended) as “Cardigan.” Aaron Dessner of the National produced or co-produced about two-thirds of the last record, but he’s on 14 out of 15 tracks here (Jack Antonoff gets the remaining spot), and so the new album is even more all of a piece with his arpeggiated chamber-pop impulses, Warmth amid iciness is a recurring lyrical motif here, and kind of a musical one, too, as Swift’s still increasingly agile vocal acting breathes heat into arrangements that might otherwise seem pretty controlled. At one point Swift sings, “Hey, December, I’m feeling unmoored,” like a woman who might even know she’s going to put her album out a couple of weeks before Christmas. It’s a wintry record — suitable for double-cardigan wearing! — and if you’re among the 99% who have been feeling unmoored, too, then perhaps you are Ready For It. Swift said in announcing the album that she was moving further into fiction songwriting after finding out it was a good fit on much of “Folklore,” a probably inevitable move for someone who’s turning 31 in a few days and appears to have a fairly settled personal life. Which is not to say that there aren’t scores to settle, and a few intriguing tracks whose real-life associations will be speculated upon. But just as the “Betty”/”August” love triangle of mid-year established that modern pop’s most celebrated confessional writer can just make shit up, too, so, here, do we get the narrator of “Dorothea,” a honey in Tupelo who is telling a childhood friend who moved away and became famous that she’s always welcome back in her hometown. (Swift may be doing a bit of empathic wondering in a couple of tracks here how it feels to be at the other end of the telescope.) One time the album takes a turn away from rumination into a pure spirit of fun — while getting dark anyway — is “No Body, No Crime,” a spirited double-murder ballad that may have more than a little inspiration in “Goodbye, Earl.” Since Swift already used the Dixie Chicks for background vocals two albums ago, for this one she brings in two of the sisters from Haim, Danielle and Este, and even uses the latter’s name for one of the characters. Yes, the rock band Haim’s featured appearance is on the only really country-sounding song on the record… there’s one you didn’t see coming, in the 16 hours you had to wonder about it. Yet there are also a handful of songs that clearly represent a Swiftian state of mind. At least, it’s easy to suppose that the love songs that opens the album, “Willow,” is a cousin to the previous record’s “Invisible String” and “Peace,” even if it doesn’t offer quite as many clearly corroborating details about her current relationship as those did. On the sadder side, Swift is apparently determined to run through her entire family tree for heartrending material. On “Lover,” she sang for her stricken mother; on “Folklore,” for her grandfather in wartime. In that tradition the new album offers “Marjorie,” about the beloved grandmother she lost in 2003, when she was 13. (The lyric videos that are being offered online mostly offer static visual loops, but the one for “Marjorie” is an exception, reviving a wealth of stills and home-movie footage of Grandma, who was quite a looker in a miniskirt in her day.) Rue is not something Swift is afraid of here anymore than anywhere else, as she sings, “I should’ve asked you questions / I should’ve asked you how to be / Asked you to write it down for me / Should’ve kept every grocery store receipt / ‘Cause every scrap of you would be taken from me,” lines that will leave a dry eye only in houses that have never known death. The piece de resistance in its poignance is Swift actually resurrecting faint audio clips of Marjorie, who was an opera singer back in the day. It’s almost like ELO’s “Rockaria,” played for weeping instead of a laugh. Swift has not given up, thank God, on the medium that brought her to the dance — the breakup song — but most of them here have more to do with dimming memories and the search for forgiveness, however slowly and incompletely achieved, than feist. But doesn’t Swift know that we like her when she’s angry? She does, and so she delves deep into something like venom just once, but it’s a good one. The ire in “Closure,” a pulsating song about an unwelcome “we can still be friends, right?” letter from an ex, seems so fresh and close to the surface that it would be reasonable to speculate that it is not about a romantic relationship at all, but a professional one she has no intention of ever recalling in a sweet light. Or maybe she does harbor that a disdain for an actual former love with that machinelike a level of intensity. What “Evermore” is full of is narratives that, like the music that accompanies them, really come into focus on second or third listen, usually because of a detail or two that turns her sometimes impressionistic modes completely vivid. “Champagne Problems” is a superb example of her abilities as a storyteller who doesn’t always tell all: She’s playing the role of a woman who quickly ruins a relationship by balking at a marriage proposal the guy had assumed was an easy enough yes that he’d tipped off his nearby family. “Sometimes you just don’t know the answer ‘ Til someone’s on their knees and asks you / ‘She would’ve made such a lovely bride / What a shame she’s fucked in the head’ / They said / But you’ll find the real thing instead / She’ll patch up your tapestry that I shred.” (Swift has doubled the F-bomb quotient this time around, among other expletives, for anyone who may be wondering whether there’s rough wordplay amid Dessner’s delicacy — that would an effing yes.) “‘Tis the Damn Season,” representing a gentler expletive, gives us a character who is willing to settle, or at least share a Christmas-time bed with an ex back in the hometown, till something better comes along. The pleasures here are shared, though not many more fellow artists have broken into her quarantine bubble this time around. Besides Haim’s cameo, Marcus Mumford offers a lovely harmony vocal on “Cowboy Like Me,” which might count as the other country song on the album, and even throws in something Swift never much favored in her Nashville days, a bit of lap steel. Its tale of male and female grifters meeting and maybe — maybe — falling in love is really more determinedly Western than C&W, per se, though. The National itself, as a group, finally gets featured billing on “Coney Island,” with Matt Berninger taking a duet vocal on a track that recalls the previous album’s celebrated Bon Iver collaboration “Exile,” with ex-lovers taking quiet turns deciding who was to blame. (Swift saves the rare laugh line for herself: “We were like the mall before the internet / It was the one place to be.) Don’t worry, legions of new Bon Iver fans: Dessner has not kicked Justin Vernon out of his inner circle just to make room for Berninger. The Bon Iver frontman whose appearance on “Folklore” came as a bit of a shock to some of his fan base actually makes several appearances on this album, and the one that gets him elevated to featured status again, as a duet, the closing “Evermore,” is different from “Exile” in two key ways. Vernon gets to sing in his high register… and he gets the girl. As it turned out, the year 2020 did not involve any such waiting for Swift fans; it’s an embarrassment of stunning albums-ending-in-“ore” that she’s mined out of a locked-down muse.

[omiscurls]

haikyuu!! characters and you making a playlist reminding you of them

featuring: sakusa kiyoomi, miya atsumu, suna rintarō and kageyama tobio 

kiyoomi

you left to make some tea, and left your phone in the room

it’s not like he was swooping through it! it was connected to a speaker so you didn’t turn it off, so you can easily change music

a song he really hates came on, so he decided to change it

he picked up a phone and realized, he doesn’t even know what to play

“what if I play something they won’t like” and all the dumb anxious thoughts started to flow through his mind

so he decided to play something from YOUR playlists! he’ll find something he likes, and it’ll be obvious you like the song, since it’s on your playlist. genius plan, right?

he started sliding the playlists until he found something that caught his attention

the title being a lyric from the song “Loverman” by Rick Montgomery

he entered it, thinking nothing in particular, but the caption below the title!

it said “I just miss my boyfriend, okay?”

wait... what? his brain didn’t process this correctly for a second

it felt so illegal to look through the songs in there, they seemed so private

he honestly felt the urge to put the phone down

but then he saw the most cheesy song he could think of

song being “18” by One Direction

you didn’t even listen to that band from what he recalled, yet it was there and he was familiar with the lyrics of it

he felt a weird drop in his heart, like a sudden wave of excitement, suddenly he couldn’t sit still

this didn’t occur often and he didn’t know how to act.

You came back to the room holding two cups of tea, the first sight being your boyfriend sitting unnaturally still and straight.

“You okay over there?” you asked softly, putting the cups on the table in front of you and giving him a small side glance.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he ask, eyes set or something in a completely different direction than your face.

You sat next to him and noticed that even though the same song was playing, your phone was in a completely different place than the one you left it in.

“Don’t you hate this song, Omi? Why didn’t you change it?” you asked, reaching for the device. Good thing you didn’t saw his eyes widen when he realized, he didn’t change the playlist he was looking at.

You were silent for an awfully long moment, eyes glued to the screen, while he was dying just two meters away. Were you gonna be mad? Sad? Disappointed? It would really be easier if you said something, he thought.

But then he started thinking about that playlist again. So you miss him, huh? That was a weirdly pleasuring fact, he didn’t know why. He was proud of himself for no reason.

But then he thought, were you really in need of a playlist like that? Maybe he was too distant, maybe he wasn’t enough boyfriend-ish?

The song he was looking at suddenly started playing, but it wasn’t enough for him to look up.

“You know, I listen to it every time you go for a game somewhere far, and you’re gone for a couple of days”

“It’s not possible to miss someone that quick” he replied almost immediately, as if he didn’t think about it before speaking. “At least to miss me that quick”

“Well, when you’re in love, it is” you replied, the grin on your lips so wide it could be heard in your voice. His heart skipped a bit. “And I have loved you since we were eighteen” you poorly sang the lyrics of the song, laughing immediately after, causing him to also smile a tiny little bit.

You rolled your eyes.

“Come on, Mr Insecure” you said, standing up and giving him your hand. “I always wanted to dance with you to this song.”

atsumu

you were sleeping before he came over, and you noted that you were to take a nap and that he could let himself in.

chill music was playing inside your whole place

it didn’t take long for him to find you draped over the sofa, a peaceful look on your face

you’ve been really stuck on work recently, so he was happy that you finally got some rest

however it wasn’t going to stop him

he located your phone and planned to wake you up by suddenly playing some metal music instead of the chill lo-fi in the background

it was gonna be “hilarious”

so he proceeded to unlock the phone and was about to enter search bar when he noticed the name of the playlist that was currently playing

“missing my dumbass” huh?

he just looked through the songs endlessly, even though there weren’t that many

huge smile subconsciously appeared on his face and suddenly he didn’t have the heart to wake you up

However he did lift your head really slightly and put it in his lap instead of the pillow instead.

So you were napping while he just stared at the songs in awe, somehow surprised by the fact that you could miss him

“City of Stars, huh? I remember when you made me sit through that movie” he whispered, more to himself than to you. “And when you tried to teach me the chords to that, too” he giggled “Guess it’s better when you play and I pretend to know how to sing”

He kept chuckling and smiling to himself about what he was finding, until he put the phone down and looked down at your asleep face.

“Look at you. You really love me!” he grinned, peacefully sure of what he was saying. Wow, you really did love him. Why was it so surprising? Why was he this shocked?

He always thought he had plenty faith in himself, but somehow when it came to you, he could never hear enough of your praise before he’d actually believe your confessions.

You woke up soon after to him playing with your hair, a mindless look on his face.

“I remember falling asleep somewhere else” you commented sarcastically, but he only smiled, his mind some place else. “What’s wrong, Tsumu?” you asked, concerned about his cheeky attitude being gone. You got half up and looked him in those absent eyes, but he only hugged you closer to him, resulting in your face being buried against his neck.

“I just missed you” he said, hardly overcoming his emotions. “A lot”

“Did you? That’s rare” you laughed, but noticed the song playing in the background. You distanced yourself from him enough to look him in the eyes with the deadpan, but low key amused look. “Or were you just looking through my phone like a crazy person?”

He rolled his eyes.

“It was a great plan, until ya decided to make me emotional!” his nicely covered accent was always showing more when he was trying to remain calm. It made you giggle.

“Aw, look at you, are you gonna cry?” you joked mockingly, causing him to look away in embarrassment. He lightly pushed you off his thighs onto the couch. “Hey!”

“Yer the worst” he said, walking to the kitchen to pour himself some water. “The WORST!”

“You’re just mad because I made you too flustered to make a flirty comeback!”

„Shut it!”

rintarō

this boy, oh my god

this boy has his own playlists for you

and he keeps them like a caged secret never to be exposed

seriously, he has a lock on his Spotify app

he’s secretly a sucker for all the romantic things like those couple playlists, photos of holding hands, that stuff

but he’d never, ever admit it, not even to you

so one day, you were at his place, and the Miyas, Kita and Aran were there, too.

His phone died, and it was connected to the speaker, as it always is, because

“you all listen to shit, I’m gonna choose something”

so when it died, he started aggressively poking your shoulder until you looked at him

“babe. baby. honey. y/n!”

“what, rin?” you finally reply, while in the middle of the conversation with Osamu

“Can i get your phone? music’s dead” he asks politely, and you nod mindlessly, while still paying attention to what Osamu was saying.

To be honest you didn’t even hear what you’re agreeing to, but soon he placed your phone in front of your face so you’d insert the password

You unlocked it, and he happily went over to the music app, while connecting it to the speaker

He was just gonna search for his playlist, but he forgot the phone isn’t his, and he needs to search it instead of just hitting “playlists”

But it was the first thing he mechanically did, and the first title he saw, was, drumroll please...

“it’s missing rin hours”

it’s what hours now? he could NOT believe his eyes

well well well, so he spent all this time hiding his Pinterest-like romantic dreams to himself, while you... had a playlist? to remind you of him?

he wanted to look. but he remembered how much he would be embarrassed if you were to look at his, so he decided not to

he just searched for his playlist and turned it on like nothing happened, but after handing you back the phone, he could not stop smiling

good think you were talking

Minutes passed, and the whole group was just chatting, eating and laughing, while the music was in the background, but Suna just sat back and didn’t pay attention to the conversation. Suddenly, he saw a palm right before his face, waving for his attention.

“Quit zoning out, Rin!” he heard your voice and looked over at you, and the amused smile on your lips. “Come on, we’re playing cards and nobody shuffles them like you do”

He simply nodded and proudly went over to the table, took his chair and started shuffling the cards in a truly “casino-like” manner, a confident smile never leaving his lips.

“What is it Suna, are you hiding all the good cards for yourself so you can win again?” Aran asked, and he just scoffed.

“Oh yeah, I remember we weren’t supposed to let him shuffle again!” Osamu joined.

“Yer a cheater, Suna, gimme that” Atsumu placed his hand in front of Rintarō, to make him surrender the cards faster.

“Please, you shuffle like a four year old” he bit back, already started to give the cards to people. “Alright what’re we playing?”

Suna was weirdly confident that night. Not that he was ever insecure, he just... acted more like Atsumu rather than like himself. It was weird to watch, honestly, but you didn’t mind, since he seemed happy. It was like this until you left, and you didn’t say a word, but as soon as you got to the car, you couldn’t bare to stay silent anymore.

“Okay, what’s up?”

“What’s supposed to be up?” he said, not even glancing over at you, eyes fixed on what was behind the vehicle, hand over the back of your seat, another one on the steering wheel, trying to leave the parking lot.

“What’re you so happy about?”

“What, can’t I be happy? That’s a rude thing to hear from my own s/o”

”You know what I mean” you whined, rolling your eyes.

“Do I?” He asked, and you started to get irritated with his responses, but before you could say anything, he just added “Maybe it’s just annoying my s/o hours”

After that, he simply smiled and focused on the road in front of him, leaving you to your own embarrassment, silently glancing to catch you get redder every time he looked.

tobio

this guy doesn’t have playlists on his own

he just listens to what he wants to, he searches it

so he’s really not in the subject when one day you’re in the shower when some weird music comes in

he just laughs at what the hell are you listening to?

and you say the playlist must’ve ended, and he can put on another one

okay but... where?

so you shout the instructions to just go to “your library”, pick one and just click shuffle

he does as you told, but- woah, why do you have so many?

he starts to go through them, but it’s really just pure chaos

up until he finds a playlist, named “don’t tell tobio but I miss him”

wow, the title makes it seem so private, he almost doesn’t want to ope-

oops, he opened it

and the songs there- it caught his heart from the very start

don’t get me wrong, he thinks they’re cheesy

but there’s something about them that makes his eyes feel hot all of the sudden

and you miss him? really? all this time he tried to be as distant and reserved as he could, so you wouldn’t think he’s clingy

and you-

he needed to sit down for a second

You came out of the shower, still with a towel wrapping your wet hair, when you noticed that a song you don’t know was playing, and Tobio sat on the couch with an uneasy expression.

“It’s not that hard to find it, you know” you said, walking over to him, about to take your phone away, but he quickly put it behind his back and looked up at you with an slight, tiny little grin.

“Gimme that”

“Nope”

“Why?”

“You have to come and get it” he said, moving back against the couch. You were shocked to the very core about his sudden confidence, and well, cheesyness, but what could you do, you sat in his lap and tried to get the phone from behind his back.

In the process, he started to tickle you, making you laugh, throw your head back, resulting in your towel falling to the floor.

“Stop, oh my gosh, just give me the- the- the phone!” you managed to say in between giggles.

When he finally stopped, your head was resting on his chest while you desperately tried to catch your breath.

“Sorry. I just wanted you to have a fun memory to think of while you miss me” he said teasingly, causing you to look up with a “how dare you” look on your face.

“So you-“

“Rewrite the stars? Really?”

You hit him on the chest

“Shut up you idiot”

“Awh, don’t act like that. You’re gonna miss it when I’m gone” he said in an over dramatic manner, looking away, and you couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head.

“Drama queen”

[somedayonbroadway]

hii it’s me again and im obsessed with the nerve au- i was wondering if you could do a sprace version, please?

Hi, love! Of course I can! Sorry, this is so late :)

Characters

Racetrack Higgins (@racer) — Vee

Spot Conlon (@kingofbrooklyn) — Ian

Jack Kelly — Tommy

Albert DaSilva (@redhotal) — Sydney

Kid Blink (@ublinked) — Ty

JoJo De La Guerra — Wes

Crutchie Morris — Liv

Oscar Morris — JP

Katherine Pulitzer — Hacker Kween

Okay so…

Race is a foster kid. For most of his life, the poor boy did his best to fade into the background, to be the perfect, adoptable child. He avoids risks, he keeps to himself and the few friends he has. He doesn’t want to lose a spot at the table. He doesn’t want to put himself out there. After all, his parents were everything he wasn’t. They’d had him young. They took risks. They went on adventures. And one day, they never came back.

Even after Race is placed in a good foster home, even after he meets his foster brothers and mother and feels like he’s part of a family, he’s still scared to step outside of his bubble of comfort even though his brothers were a bit more social. Race was adopted right before he started high school. He was fourteen. Jack was fifteen and Specs was seventeen.

Three years later, they were hit by a drunk driver. Specs didn’t make it.

Race’s senior year wasn’t quite the same after that.

Race wants to travel. He wants to go to culinary school in Italy. So he applies. And he gets in. But he doesn’t accept the application. He’s terrified to leave Medda and Jack alone without Spencer. The pain hasn’t quite faded yet.

After seeing the acceptance letter, Race sets it aside before school and goes online instead, stalking a boy online that he’s had a crush on for years. Oscar Delancey. Jack thinks he’s a jerk. Race thinks he’s misunderstood.

That’s when his best friend FaceTimes him. Albert DaSilva has been Race’s best friend since he was first taken into Medda’s place and he is always looking for some extra attention. Race doesn’t mind so much, but sometimes it can get exhausting.

Albert tells Race to stop stalking Oscar on Instagram and, instead, sign up to watch Albert play Nerve, an online game where people get dared and have to perform those dares for their “watchers” for money and fame. Race scoffs at the game and tells Albert that it sounds ridiculous before he leaves for school.

Jack drives him. Race tries to tell him about Italy, but he chickens out. Instead, he goes to school where Albert gets his first dare.

Race’s other friends, Crutchie and JoJo record Albert on his own phone as he runs across the football field during a rally, buck naked. To no one's surprise Albert is suspended later that day. Despite this, while out for milkshakes after school, Albert informs Race that he will still be playing Nerve in hopes of becoming famous.

Jack, who meets the other kids at the restaurant, tells Albert he’s being ridiculous. This causes Albert to turn the tables on Race and tell him he could never be a player on Nerve and then all of his friends vote on a date for him with Jack being the only no. They dare him to talk to Oscar, a simple task that will just push him slightly out of his comfort zone. Race chickens out.

So Albert does it for him, only for Oscar to tell him that he’s not interested in Race. Race stands and storms out and Jack stops Albert from following him, telling him that he just hurt his little brother and better think about what he’s doing next time before Jack decides to punch in the nose.

Race rushes back home where he finds that he never closed the Nerve window on his computer. He watches the video on his screen where he finds out the rules of the game. There’s only three:

1. all dares must be recorded on the player's phone

2. any earned money will be revoked if a player fails or bails on a dare

3. "snitches get stitches."

It’s sketchy as hell but Race has a point to prove. When the question comes up “Watcher or Player,” against all of the boy’s instincts, he makes a decision. Player.

Race is running down the stairs when Jack gets home. He has his first dare. He needs Jack to drive him to Jacobi’s Diner. Jack does, because Race asked him to. That doesn’t stop Jack from giving Race a lecture on how stupid he’s being. Still, Race is determined to prove he isn’t a coward.

His dare is to kiss a stranger for five seconds. Jack records it for him as they eventually find someone reading a book that Specs had read to him once when he was going through an insomnia spell. To The Lighthouse. Race kisses the other boy for a lot longer than he had to and eventually stumbles away says “thank you!” and runs back to Jack.

Jack tells him that he needs to quit now after Race gets one hundred dollars for playing the game. Race almost concedes before he hears someone singing. The boy he’d just kissed walks over to him and sings to him, asking him to run away with him.

Jack realizes it’s a dare and tries to pull Race up and out of the diner, but the boy sits with them and tells him that some kid brought him that book and told him to sit and wait. Jack comments that it sounds like he responds well to puppy commands and starts calling him Spot. Spot doesn’t correct him.

Another dare comes. The watchers want Race and Spot to run away together, run away to the center of the city. Jack tries to stop them. But Race didn’t know how much he was longing for an adventure until that moment.

Race rides with Spot on his motorcycle to a very expensive store in the center of Manhattan where Spot goes in before him and Race is dared to try on a very expensive suit that he looked very good in. He changes on camera. Jack watches him, terrified to look away as he tries to follow him and stop him from getting himself killed. Apparently some kid died in Santa Fe playing Nerve.

Race doesn’t listen to his warnings and continues to take dares with Spot until they are dared to leave the store after their clothes have been stolen. Race says he won’t shoplift, but Spot is insistent. So Race comes up with a compromise.

They run out of the store in nothing but their underwear. Their watchers get a kick out of it. One of them even buys them the clothes they tried on, letting them keep them.

Jack decides he’s watched for long enough and calls someone for help. A dear friend of his. Okay, it’s his girlfriend, and maybe she’s a little older than him, but hey, who’s keeping track? He asks her for access to the dark web and she reluctantly gives it to him. When he has access, he finds all he can on Spot, previously known as Sean Conlon, a kid who played the game in Santa Fe.

He doesn’t seem like an upstanding citizen.

Albert is trying his best to get into the top ten, to win the whole game, but his watchers won’t give him any real dares. He’s out with Crutchie and JoJo when they find out that Race is playing the game. Albert is shocked and a bit jealous at how fast Race is moving up in the game.

Becoming a pair in this game, Race is dared to get a tattoo of Spot’s choosing and, though terrified of getting a tattoo at the wrath of his mother, accepts the dare and lets Spot calm him down with some music while he gets the thing, to later find out that it’s a lighthouse, for To The Lighthouse. After Race manages to complete this dare, the watchers move forward with a dare for Spot. He has to get to sixty miles per hour on his motorcycle while blindfolded.

Race almost bails on him because of it, because he’s terrified, but Spot manages to convince him to help and Race guides him while they get to sixty in five minutes. They barely make it and then they almost crash, and then they kiss, feeling invincible.

Jack can hardly watch, fearing his little brother might die and then his mother calls, asking why the hell money is being deposited into Race’s account and where it’s coming from, so Jack has to deal with that while he’s still trying to look for his brother.

Spot takes Race to a carousel. They mess around on it while Race tells Spot about Specs, about how Specs was fearless, about how Specs pushed him to do things he would’ve never done otherwise. Spot tells him it’s a shame he never met him. He thinks they would’ve gotten along. Race agrees with him before Albert tries calling him.

Albert has been at a party with the rest of their friends. They’re all watching Race play Nerve live on a big screen. He sees Race reject his call. He hears Race call him annoying, frustrating, attention demanding. It hurts. And everyone else gets to hear it too.

Spot suggests they go to the party that Albert’s at to show everyone that he’s not who they thought, to show people that he got a tattoo and his own opinions. However, when they get there, they find that Albert has bailed on a dare after the watchers found out he was scared of heights. He nearly fell from a ladder suspended above ten stories.

He’s pissed that his best friend wasn’t there to talk him out of it. This sparks an argument between Race and Albert. Race eventually tells Albert to sign up and watch him from now on if he wants to know where he is. Then he accepts his next dare, to finish Albert’s. He walks across the ladder only to be met with his big brother who tells him that Spot set him up, that he took a dare to get him to the party to fight with Albert. Race shoves him away and finds Spot, demanding to know if that’s true.

Spot pulls him into the elevator and tries to explain. But Race won’t let him. He’s had enough. He runs out of the building. He finds a cop and tries to tell him about Nerve. He needs someone to shut it down. But he gets distracted by a call from his mother, telling him that everything they had was gone, that their savings had been drained and photos were showing up on her and Jack’s social media page that shouldn’t be. Before Race can respond, he’s knocked out cold by a player who has been around the whole time, someone Race suspected Spot knew.

When he wakes up, he finds himself in a metal cage with the words “Snitches get Stitches” scrawled out on the walls. A computer lights up and tells Race that he is now their prisoner. A prisoner of the game. A flash of Jack comes across the screen. Then one of Albert. Terrified, Race tries to break out only for Spot to show up and pick the lock for him.

Spot explains to Race that he’s a prisoner of Nerve too and that the watchers control his whole life, and not just that, they control his family’s life. His sisters and his mother too. The only money they get is money the watchers give them after they messed with his mom’s job and his sisters’ futures have been destroyed. He explains that they’re going to give Race an impossible dare and that they sent Spot here after him to finish it for him if he can’t.

Down the hall, muffled voices are heard and Race walks into a new room to find Jack and Albert tied up and gagged on chairs and a gun sitting in between them. He’s dared to choose who lives and who dies.

Race is obviously scared and refuses to choose, trying to bail, but Spot stops him, telling him that if he bails, he’ll be a prisoner until the game comes around again. He has to win to get out. So Race takes the gun and aims it at his own head, causing the watchers to tell him to stop. They need someone to control. So Race stops and Spot unties the other boys and helps them out finding a secluded parking lot to drop them off before he rushes off to complete his next dare, trying to make sure he was the one in the finals with Race instead of Blink, the other boy who he was made prisoner with after going to the cops when their friend died playing the game.

Spot takes the same dare that got his friend killed, hanging one handed from a construction crane. He manages to do it, putting himself in the finals.

Jack, Race and Albert pull together and form a plan, calling some backup in and going to The Cloud, a place Katherine often hangs out. He asks her and her hacker friends to try and gain control of the boys controlling the game and she does. Jack takes Albert there after Albert makes a call at a pay phone. They try to hack the game while Jack gets a call from his panicking mother whom he tells to meet him at The Cloud.

Race goes to the finals and is given another gun. When he sees Spot across this mysterious arena, he tries to run to him, having fallen for him over the course of all of these insane events, but the watchers tell them to stop and take their marks. The first to shoot their opponent wins.

Spot tells Race to shoot him in the shoulder. Race almost complies, but shoots the ground, telling him that he can’t do this. He tries to walk away but someone from the crowd says that he’ll take the challenge instead.

Blink jumps into the arena.

Medda gets to The Cloud just in time to watch the whole thing.

The watchers vote for Blink to shoot Race. And he does.

Medda can’t fathom the fact that she’s lost another child.

But Jack just tells Katherine to blow it up as Race falls into Spot’s arms.

Spot begs him to wake up as the anonymous players phones reveal their real names and tell them their accessories to murder. Everyone begins to sign off.

Spot cries over Race, completely horrified and tries to shoot Blink before Race shoots up in his arms, telling him that he was alright, that it was all fake. So Spot hugs him and begs him to never do that again.

But he’s so happy that he’s finally free.

Race immediately calls Jack and Medda and they cry together. So Spot takes him to them.

Jack and Medda encourage Race to go to Italy and Spot and him end up in a committed relationship. Albert and Race makeup and Jack is still overprotective as ever and they heal from the loss of Specs and are able to actually love on.

For more Mood Boards and AUs, click here!

[bakugous-bbygirl]

Okay I liked your how BAKUSQUAD would react to singing ddlg okay but how would they react to singing PJ or 3 musketeers all by ppcocaine maybe including hawks and Dabi

~How Bakusquad reacts to you singing 3 Musketeers + Dabi and Hawks~

Ooooo I like this. Also thank you for the ask! I chose 3 musketeers because it had a little more wiggle room with all 7 of them. Although PJ is a equally good song I would be willing to this for PJ but maybe with less characters for my sanity

A bit of background to make this easy: this song has hella bi vibes so if your not into that it’s not a big deal it might just be mentioned once or twice depending on the lyrics

Also slightly 18+ again. Her songs get dirty. Swearing and mentions of weed smoking

Mina

(Sp—, Sp—, Spain, what you doing?)

Hey Daddy Kaine! (Listen up)

I got bitches (You got bitches?)

Haha, ayy, ayy

Tell lil' shorty come here (Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy)

Trap bunnie bubbles!

Again Mina is the queen of knowing ppcoacaine.

All you had to say is you have bitches and it’s over with

She pops her head from the kitchen asking if you got bitches

She knows your not serious because your relationship is like, the best.

But it’s still fun to sing

Totally killed the rest of the song together she’s the best hype woman for you

Hawks

Bitch, I still get texts from my ex

You thinkin' that she yours but she movin' to the next (The next)

No bitch can compare, they all think I'm the best (Fuckin' right)

Real witch bitch, put yo' ass in a hex (Voodoo)

Bitch, I got big stack, big flex (Big flex)

Baby call my phone, tryna blow her tax check

Call me a nympho 'cause I like good sex (Oh)

But don't be mad when you going through my texts

Fair to say he was slightly caught off guard on how confidently your saying this stuff right next to your boyfriend

At first he thought you seriously got textes from your ex with made the poor bird a little insecure

Once you explain it’s just the lyrics and that you blocked your ex before you guys started dating he’s okay

Handles it pretty calmly and just wants to know the song

You even did little dancing motions like you are really feeling yourself to this song. Damn it’s kinda hot

He doesn’t listen to it as hard as you clearly do but enough to know when it’s gonna happen again

Like a 7/10 hype man and does the background work for you to keep your energy up

Still slightly worried about the ex and sometimes goes through your texts just to make sure

Kirishima

Ayy, ayy, tell lil' shorty come here (Come here)

I'm tryna blow her back out, walking funny for the year (Wobble, wobble)

Tell me that you want me, that's the shit I always hear

I got three bitches on me like the three musketeers

Ayy, ayy (Musketeers), tell lil' shorty come here (Come here)

I'm tryna blow her back out, walking funny for the year (Wobble, wobble)

Tell me that you want me, that's the shit I always hear (Always hear it)

I got three bitches on me like the three musketeers

Loves the fact your so confident

I mean yeah the song is a little vulgar for you being such a bottom for him

Really curious how you look topping a girl

Wouldn’t mention it but just know he’s thinking it

Would ask how you came across the song in the first place since it’s not what he assumed you listened to while working out with him

You explain your hype playlist is a journey for another day

Overall though: much calm 9/10 because of the one impure thought but again you don’t know that

However next time you are away he’s so thinking about it while getting himself off

You probably look really hot going down on another girl

...okay now he’s questioning if you’d be okay with a threesome. It’s not cheating if everyone is cool right?

Right?

Dabi

Bitch, shake that ass or kick rocks (Kick rocks)

Fuck a situationship, I'm tryna see that box

Saw her on her Tinder, said she like long walks (Oh the beach)

Runnin' with my phone but bitch who got these locks?

Dumb ho, who bought this motherfuckin' phone?

Yeah, shorty love it 'cause I'm making her moan

Try to find another bitch, get hit in the dome

Yeah, I know I am a queen 'cause I'm sitting on the throne

Man he was smirking his cocky ass off.

You flipping your hair (wether it be long or short I flip my short hair all the time.)

Grinding all in his lap durning the sexual parts

Tapping his temple half way joking and half way threatening him for real about him finding another girl

Also referring to yourself as queen and his crotch as your throne

He just holds your hips and makes you grind again whispering dirty shit in your ear

Oh he took it the most seriously because he knows you’ve had past relationships

This one is just the best.

For sure ended with you “sitting on your throne” you know, just while moving your hips and bouncing

And the next time you go into your playlist you happen to notice that almost all of your songs are gone minus all the ppcocaine songs you have

Cheeky burnt man but two can play at that game

Sero

Hey, gang, NextYoungin

It's Daddy Kaine in this bitch (Ayy)

Pull up to the function and she tryna get lit

Shorty talkin' foreign, yeah, I'm thinking she a Brit

Never stay strapped 'cause my brothers with the shit

Keep talking money 'til they hit you with a lick (Baow)

All yo' shit fake but there's Gucci on my fit

She want bread for the head but no, I'm not a trick (Nah)

Okay you two were just smoking weed and you actually were on the verge of falling asleep

Until you heard this part about to play

You had sat up and starting getting all silly

You didn’t face him while doing it but he could tell you had your eyes closed since you were still a little sleepy

About half way though you had laid back down in his lap admiting you didn’t know the rest and giggling

You guys still finished smoking just he didn’t take it seriously at all since you were high and it was a song

Still wants to hear you do it while your sober just doesn’t take it seriously in the moment

He’s a good and trusting boyfriend and he knows you don’t mean anything behind it

Bakugou

Switchin' up the roles, charge a rack for the flick

Keeping dirty money but my hands still clean (Yup)

Bitch is high tech, yeah, I think she off the lean

Don't try to kiss me, ho, you need some Listerine

Drown in this money, all you see on me is green

I bought her a Perc' and I bought her a bean

Now she blowin' up my phone so I know that she a fiend

Got her in her feelings, tell her bestie that I'm mean

No, I never need no hoes, I just pass 'em to the team

He’s the king of passing hoes off to his team

Denki was always lonely so it worked for him

When it came to you he didn’t take you as someone who rapped at all or talked about passing hoes off

Just got all grumpy and held you from behind mumbling something about not passing him off

He knows good and well you couldn’t give him up your totally in love he just wants to make sure you know it’s not a choice

He asked why you even like the song if none of it applied to you for real and that earned him a nice bonk to the head

You don’t have to always relate if you just wanna vibe and rap

Mostly just curious how you got into such intense music he liked it deep down inside but no way he’s letting you know that.

Denki

Oh

You got bitches, Nya?

Hell yeah

How many?

Hmm.. three musketeers

Ha! (Da—, da—, damn, what you doing?)

Daddy Kaine and Cocaine

Yeah, Daddy Kaine and Cocaine, huh

He so learned from his mistake last time

Would you call it a mistake? He wouldn’t. But he still made sure to put his game down for you.

He was mostly listening to you the whole time to make sure you wouldn’t climb on top of him and demolish his high score

But since you stayed in your seat he relaxed a bit

He still put his arm around you after losing at his game and gave you a firm make out session making sure if you did have bitches he was the best

Wait no he’s not a bitch

But your not his he wouldn’t call you a bitch?

Let alone his bitch.

Poor baby worked his brain to hard and got totally distracted while kissing you

Zoned out until you bit his lip

He was fine afterwards just got a little Too caught up

Haha thank you guys for reading! Please send in requests anytime this was a lot of fun for me!

[anotherbeingsworld]

Title: Better

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x F!MC (Casey Valentine)

Summary: After a long day at the hospital, she came to a revolution on what she is feeling.

Rating: General.

Inspo: Better - Khalid. (A bit of mention in the end)

A/N: This is such an impulse fic which is not edited since i typed all the way in my phone. I wasn't feeling much like myself today and I feel like I wanna express it in this way. I dedicate this fic to those who are going through a hard time, and they are not giving up yet. Also, dedicating this to a number of people who hasn't given up on me yet. Thank you, and I hope you all enjoy this.

MY MASTERLIST

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

Casey walks on the hallway with a sigh as the day finally is done. She doesn't feel like herself today and, she notices how distant everything is to her today. Her smile wasn't visible and the others noticed it as all of them waited for her at the entrance of the hospital.

It was a long day for them, and unfortunately it wasn't a good day too. There was casualities, death and some unfortunate events that made her want to forget all about it.

After a while, she was met with 5 familiar faces waiting for her. It was an unfamiliar sight since they never had the same shifts unless its an emergency. Today was one of those days that she didn't see coming and she is trying her best to let everything roll down her back. She isn'tCasey Valentine today, she was this unfamiliarity feeling that been living inside of her for so long.

'There you are! We been waiting for you.' Sienna greeted her with amount of enthusiasm that made her smile a little, despite the tiredness that can be heard in her voice.

'Yeah, what took you so long? Donahue's is having a two-for-one night and after that long day, i believe we deserve a drink or two.' Jackie states as Aurora just shake her head as their smiles can be seen on their faces.

She plastered a smile on her face hoping to fool them all, but she felt a pair of eyes were staring at her in consideration and somewhat the feeling made the blush on her face creeps up slowly.

After a while, they started to make their way to Donahue's as Casey slacks behind with a figure doing the same. They walked together upon the silence as their hands were bound together.q+

.......

'So, how are you today?' Bryce asked casually to her as he took a sip from his glass of sparkling water. He felt too tired to drink but, it didnt stop the rest of the gang to celebrate.

Casey found herself letting out another sigh as the drink in front was left unattended, she felt like she wanted to celebrate but she doesn'thave the will to begin.

'Today was a weird day, and I'm not feeling like myself today. How are you?' She turns to look at him who is leaning his head against the leather seats, as he was finally letting go a breath that he has been holding.

'I'm okay, I just feel like it's been a long day and we deserved a good-night sleep tonight.' He smiles at her, as she lets out a small smile at him.

They both observed the people there, as their friends were found at the karaoke bar searching some songs somewhat feels like New Years Eve again. Its been two weeks since the new year began, and today she feels somewhat different. She sighs as a memory of her today freezing out in front of her attendings, making her feel unprepared and somewhat her mojo has been missing lately.

'Hey, earth to Casey.'

'..what?'

'You zoned out there, are you sure you are okay?' His eyes presented care and she felt herself being vulnerable with him, it was their thing. Ever since the supply closet incident, they had always been each other's toes. Taking care of the other while they were in the hospital, and sometimes when they spend the night at either of their apartments.

He hold out his hand to her, and she took it; a comfort that gave her this feeling of security and vulnerability in one.

'...I don't feel okay today. I feel different and I don't feel like me, I zoned out today in front of Dr. Banerji. I was hoping for myself to change and maybe be okay after everything, but every time it ended up the as the opposite. I just.. I don't feel okay today.' A part of her felt much lighter letting a piece of her sorrows out in the open, and she felt a squeeze on her hand as the tears started to form slowly. The pain started to leave her little by little.

Bryce pulls her close as she lays her head on his shoulder, they remain that way as the music plays in the background which is one of their favourite songs earning a small chuckle from him as Sienna sent them both a thumbs up from afar which followed by Jackie and Aurora's singing skills which is surprisingly very good.

'Nothing feels better than this...'

As they sat in the booth, he didn't have to say anything. She is thankful as the company to her felt enough, and being there with him is a silver lining for the day because nothing feels better than being with the one that you love at the end of the day. If today wasn't the best, there is always tomorrow. She can always try again but, nothing could be better than this moment.

THE END.

Tags:  @bitchloveskcbaseball​​ , @storyofmychoices​​ , @mvalentine​​ , @princess-geek​​ , @lahellacute​​ ,  @this-person-is-busy​​ , @annekebbphotography​​ , @mrsbhandari​​ , @dcbbw​​ , @choicessa​​ , ,@fantasyoverreality98​​ , @baltersome​​ , @ofpixelsandscribbles​​ , @thundergom​​  @starrystarrytrouble​​,  @kelseaaa​​  , @choicesficwriterscreations​​  , @lalizah​​ , @drethanramslay​​ , @aveeiro​ , @eleanorbloom​​ , @openheartfanfics​​ , @brycesgirl​​  ,  @freckles-spangledvampire​​ , @agentnolastname​​ , @robintora​​​ (comment if you want to be tagged or removed 💜💜)

[wings-of-a-storm]

So there’s a scene in ‘Love, Victor’ that I can’t seem to stop thinking about. It just fascinates me to a ridiculous level (probably more than it warrants, to be honest). It’s when Benji sings ‘Call Me Maybe’ to Victor at Battle of the Bands.

Yes, this moment! I have yielded to its power.

Like where the hell do I even begin to start unpacking the existence of this kind of moment so early on in the show?

To start with, I used to be haunted by the question: Was Benji actually singing to Victor with that intense eye-contact for the whole song or was the entire thing just “Victor Vision” and symbolic of what Victor wishes was happening?

And at first, my answer was: There’s just no wayyyy Benji could have actually done that! For the simple reason of HOW THE HELL WOULD HE HAVE BEEN ABLE TO JUSTIFY THAT TO HIMSELF? Singing a love song inspired by another guy, to that guy’s face, while the boyfriend he is super committed to is literally standing beside him, dropping phat beats on his bass to help the song come to life?

And yet…over the course of the performance, Benji starts to look almost angry/bitter/sad as he’s singing.

And as soon as the performance wraps up, Benji’s eyes are still locked right onto Victor’s as he steps off the stage. Like there is no searching, he knows exactly were Victor is and heads straight to him. And even more telling, once his Singer Persona drops off, he is nervously fiddling with his hands as he walks to Victor, like he’s waiting for Victor’s verdict of the performance. Kind of like: “Did you like it? Because I know how much you love that song and I sang it for you.”

I mean… Excuse me, sir? Consider me convinced that Benji really was singing it while staring at Victor the whole time, and Victor Vision just embellished parts. And you know what, that suddenly turns a fairly tropey scene into something so much more psychologically stimulating. Welcome to the holy trifecta of burning questions:

- Why did Benji make a cover in the first place? - Why did he sing it staring at Victor the whole time? - How did he justify it to himself?

The beauty of Benji's enigma is that the answers to those questions can be anything you want them to be. So many reasons fit, and so many overlap. It’s really rather fun to try and figure it all out, especially when there aren’t really any wrong answers.

So I guess here are mine:

WHY DID BENJI MAKE A COVER IN THE FIRST PLACE?

Fact: After sharing a fun Moment with Victor (dancing together like no one but Victor’s mother was watching, hah), Benji went home inspired to turn that song into a cover of his own. Why? Looking at it logically, their time together must have meant a lot to Benji, more than anyone could have realised. It affected him to the point where he had to preserve that moment, live in it for a bit longer, and also unpack it in his own mind in a way he’s most familiar and comfortable with: a creative outlet.

I love the idea of Benji listening to ‘Call Me Maybe’ over and over again when he got back home. At first just to relive the high he got from sharing such an uninhibited Moment with Victor (a rare occurrence after spending so much of his time walking around egg shells with Derek?). But then, after the nth play, getting the inspiration to make his own slower version of the track to better explore his feelings about that night and the way Victor makes him feel. Then finally re-listening to the song over and over again but this time to get the right chords and the right splicing/arrangement of lyrics that could convey his feelings but not completely cross the line into full on romance…

But Benji making that cover could have been inspired by so many tangled up reasons, like:

- He realised the lyrics were mirroring his own thoughts and experience, so singing it out loud was helping him process the harmless crush he seemed to be developing

- He wanted to preserve the memory of their dancing Moment because it gives him a dose of happy feels to relive it

- He may have partly intended to make the new version as a sort of gift to Victor that he’d one day play for him (maybe even at Battle of the Bands if Victor changed his mind and showed up). A gift that would further tie them together and cement their friendship, be a way to show Victor how much their friendship already means to him, and give back a little to Victor for trusting Benji with personal/embarrassing information about his guilty pleasures. Like a pre-Drawing gift, with similar energy

And let’s be real, also to try to impress Victor so that Benji can feel a little cool and desirable since it seems he doesn’t often get to feel that way around Derek. Like seriously, who can forget the lingering looks of anticipation Benji gave Victor when he first told him he was a Lead Singer in a Band. He wanted to impress Victor so badly. And who wouldn’t crave Victor’s sweet brand of attention?

Okay, so now Benji has a cover. But…

WHY DID BENJI SING IT STARING AT VICTOR THE WHOLE TIME?

Well firstly, how passionate must Benji have been behind the scenes if he was able to arrange a cover in less than 24 hours before the contest and prioritise it in band practice so that everyone was on board with his musical whim? (And how did he convince Derek to play such an unpretentious song?)

But I imagine the Intense Staring was probably a mixture of:

- Benji had probably spent a lot of the night hoping that Victor would miraculously show up after all (that mood of secretly looking through the crowd every so often throughout the night just in case…). And then when Victor actually did show up, Benji made the band play CMM even though they were still workshopping it, and got so caught up in his excitement and determination, he zeroed in on Victor hard and forgot to reign it in

- Because Benji feels something for Victor (even if he can’t name what exactly that is), and performance is a safe way to express the things he’s not meant to be feeling. It’s a safe space because when you’re performing something, you have the creative freedom to be someone else, to become another version of yourself, a persona, with the license to use whatever emotions you have in your arsenal to tell a story. Benji could express his yearning and fascination (etc) for Victor with the distance of a parallel universe or alternate reality. Stage Benji is allowed to stare

- Because Mia was there with Victor and Benji felt compelled and determined to win Victor’s attention back. You know, some good old fashioned jealousy born of insecurity -- that feeling of being a little insecure and protective of a new friendship, of wanting that person to just see you as special, of feeling like you have something to prove or you’ll end up forgotten in the background. (And maybe he was also a little sick of straight(?) girls having it so easy with the cute guys…)

- Because Benji subconsciously wanted to telegraph to Victor that he is interested in him (and is bitter that it’s not that simple) and wanted to see if Victor bites back. For science

- Or maybe because Benji saw a perfect chance to perform the song as a cute gift to Victor since he actually showed up, but then his intentions quickly unravelled into the prior points, haha

And that leads me to…

HOW DID HE JUSTIFY THE INTENSE* STARING TO HIMSELF?

(*Because even if the song was meant to be something innocent like a homage to an in-joke with Victor or a harmless means to process his feelings on this new and exciting friendship with an attractive boy, the intensity with which he sang it felt like something else entirely. It transcended friendship into a very ambiguous zone. And there was so much yearning in it. Particularly by the end...)

I think Benji probably justified his behaviour by thinking:

- It’s okay for Lead Singer Benji to stare at his muse while performing a story. (It’s just a persona, there’s no need for guilt!)

- It’s normal to be excited by a new friendship and it’s okay to want to sing a giddy song about that experience. And at worst, it’s just a harmless crush that will eventually fade once the novelty wears off. It’s not like he has any intention to do anything further with it since he is committed to Derek. It’s just fun to feel the tingles of a teeny crush…….

Alright, that’s it. I’m out. I’m done. I’ve got nothing left. Thanks for the ride, Benji, you mysterious, complicated, hopeless romantic.

[libralita]

The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes

Suzanne Collins

Summary: Ambition will fuel him. Competition will drive him. But power has its price. It is the morning of the reaping that will kick off the tenth annual Hunger Games. In the Capitol, eighteen-year-old Coriolanus Snow is preparing for his one shot at glory as a mentor in the Games. The once-mighty house of Snow has fallen on hard times, its fate hanging on the slender chance that Coriolanus will be able to outcharm, outwit, and outmaneuver his fellow students to mentor the winning tribute. The odds are against him. He’s been given the humiliating assignment of mentoring the female tribute from District 12, the lowest of the low. Their fates are now completely intertwined—every choice Coriolanus makes could lead to favor or failure, triumph or ruin. Inside the arena, it will be a fight to the death. Outside the arena, Coriolanus starts to feel for his doomed tribute . . . and must weigh his need to follow the rules against his desire to survive no matter what it takes.

Rating: ★★★★★

Review:

So, this is a bit of a “disclaimer” or more of an interesting fact: I’ve technically never read The Hunger Games Trilogy. I had to read the first book for my English class, and it was a time where I hated being told what to read so I used SparkNotes. We also watched the first film in that class but that doesn’t really matter because A) that was like 8 or 9 years ago and B) it was for my class so you can bet I wasn’t playing attention. So, for all intents and purposes, I have not read the Hunger Games. Now you may be asking why I decided read this…seemingly controversial book rather than the much beloved original trilogy. Cuz my friend said I should, the audiobook sample intrigued me, and when are you going to see a review of this book from someone who hasn’t read the original trilogy?

Before I go into spoilers with this book, I just want to say as someone who has at best a surface level understanding of the Hunger Games trilogy, I think people are being a little bit harsh about this book. This book made me completely understand why Coriolanus Snow went down the path that he did while also not glamourizing it or making excuses for it. I genuinely felt bad for this young man who has delt with so many hardship that no one would should suffer through. However, he still does horrible things and the book recognizes that he does horrible things. It is a fascinating character study with a bit of background on how the Hunger Games came to be. Perhaps my opinion will change once I read The Hunger Games trilogy (which I intend to do) however at this point I think this was an amazing book and you should give it a fair shake. Now, onto spoilers.

The only flaw I found with this book was it was a bit too on the nose with a couple of things. First some of the names. Gaul. Satyria. Highbottom. I know that Collins started off as a middle grade writer and these feel like very middle grade character names. They just describe the characters a little too perfectly. In YA, it’s more popular to make characters where their names’ meanings give an insight into their character. Not a huge problem but a bit silly.

Second, I’m a little conflicted on the political talk. On the one hand, holy shit a YA book that talks about political theory? In an intelligent way? That’s not just screaming about real world politics? Oh my! On the other hand, it’s a little too on the nose. Gaul having Coryo write about the Social Contract and then this conversation:

“‘I do. Unless there’s law, someone enforcing it, I think we might as well be animals,’ he said with more assurance. ‘Like it or not, the Capitol is the only thing keeping anyone safe.’ ‘Hm. So they keep me safe. And what do I give up for that?’ she asked.”—Page 434

Hobbes would swoon over Coryo. It wasn’t bad just on the nose. And to a degree, I get it, I’m working on getting my masters in political science and I’ve read Hobbes and Rousseau whereas most the intended audience probably hasn’t. So, I call this a nitpick for me

Other than this book being a little too on the nose, I found very little fault in this. Maybe the Post-Games story line was a little less interesting but it still wasn’t bad by any means.  This book is a character study of Coriolanus Snow, so I’d like to talk about him and his dissent. While reading this, my friend asked me if I hadn’t known that Coryo would one day become President Snow, if I could see it coming. And, while it’s hard to tell exactly, I think Collins manages to balance both Coryo being sympathetic and showing how he could become the person that he is in the trilogy. There are three…phases or Coryo’s life that really illustrate how he becomes President Snow. First is his life during the War. Second, is his life During the 10th Hunger Games. Then his life Post-Games. Collins does a wonderful job of portraying what it was like for Coryo during the war. The horrors he had witness of enjoying the life of luxury at an early age and then his world crashing around him. Of his family dying. Of the struggles to survive. Of him witnessing his friends’ parents restore to something horrible like cannibalism. It’s brought up a lot because it’s something that scarred him.

Now his During-Games life/the first half of this book. Coryo and the people around him are clearly dealing with the PTSD of growing up in a war zone. He’s essentially starving through most of this section during the book and on the verge of losing of what little he’s held onto since the War ended. I feel really bad for him. There was a part of me during this section where I hoped along side him that Lucy Gray would win the Hunger Games, he could go to University and continue his relationship with her. Maybe they could have changed Panem for the better. And while in this section he was no pure angel, you could see Gaul and Highbottom pushing him to become a worse person. You could also see the red flags that become worse in the Post-Games section.

There are two major red flags I picked up on during this read through. First, is his relationship with Lucy Gray. He’s very possessive of her and he gets very jealous when she sings about another guy during The Hunger Games. This made the relationship slightly uncomfortable for me…though let’s be honest if Sejanus was pining after Lucy Gray he would be acting no different from any other YA love interest (shots fired.) He actually reminded me a lot of Jace from The Mortal Instruments. The second red flag is his treatment of Sejanus. In a meta sense Sejanus is your typical hero and the fact that Coryo is using him (and really anyone besides maybe his family?) is a giant red flag to me as a reader. He doesn’t like Sejanus or Mrs. Plinth. He just wants to use them. Which is really sad but shows that is eventually dissent into Post-Hunger Games Coryo is foreshadowed.

Now, let’s talk about Post-Games. I took a break once the Games ended because I was a little unmotivated to keep reading. I didn’t know if I would like Coryo leaving the Capital. I liked seeing the political maneuvering of the Games and his dynamics with his classmates. However, watching his dissent was great. His relationship with Lucy Gray went from slightly concerning to full blown toxic. His possessiveness of her really amped up. Coryo also isn’t really happy to see Sejanus because it’s a friendly face, it’s because there’s someone to recognize his status and for someone he can use. Again, another moment of possibility of where Coryo could have let Sejanus and maybe Lucy Gray escape and he could have gone off to become an officer. Work his way up and become the President. However, he didn’t take that path.

It was so heartbreaking to see Sejanus die, there was still a glimmer of Coryo’s humanity where he genuinely felt guilty but you could see his self-preserving nature showing its ugly head. And then his journey is cemented when he can’t handle being out with Lucy Gray so he may or may not have killed her, then he goes back where his family pictures are ruined and his mother’s powder is mush. The only thing left his is father’s compass.

Speaking of his father, one final character I’ll mention is Dean Highbottom. I wish we got a little bit more of him because his view of Coryo is interesting. It seemed like Collins gave a very subtle story about how Highbottom was worried that Coryo would turn out like his father. But Highbottom ended up created the monster he wanted to prevent. If he had shown Coryo compassion and understanding, he might have turned out differently. This ended up getting Highbottom killed which was a great way to end the book. Sad but great.

Overall, I think this is a great story. I loved seeing all the different roads Coryo could have taken and how things could have turned out differently. I am planning on buying the Hunger Games trilogy so it’ll be interesting to see how this changes things for me.

[lucas-koh]

Stitches - Bryce Lahela x MC VII

Parts 1-6 are linked in my bio!

Doesn’t exactly follow canon, but elements of canon. FWB.

Song: Try A Little Tenderness - Otis Redding

Rating: M; implied sex, sexual language, swearing

Word Count: 4273

Taglist: @lahellacute @lahamseiroshoe @anotherbeingsworld @fuseboxmusebox @choicesficwriterscreations @bubblelaureno @bratzlahela @eleanorbloom @bryceslahela || please let me know if you would like to be added to or removed from this list

Chapter Seven: A Simple Favour

Suki stood in the corridor, glass of water in hand, utterly confused. Where the hell did Bryce go? She walked the length of the hall to be sure she wasn’t just being dim, but he was no where to be seen. Had he been really that annoyed that she wouldn’t kiss him despite their rules? Or, maybe Suki was being too self-centred. The likelihood was that Bryce had to run off for some work thing – it was the middle of the day after all.

She continued on with her work day, but her mind kept flicking back to her strange morning. Especially when she’d seen Bryce only hours before back at his place and he’d been completely normal. They’d had a great time as usual, and there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. He’d even told her to leave early because he wanted a good sleep for his surgery. Of course she knew why he was different, but it was still strange to see. He’d been so psyched for the surgery to the point he’d even told his fuck buddy about it. Particularly when the story didn’t seem to add up and he was keeping pretty shtum about it all.

Suki just couldn’t help it – she was nosy.

—-

It wasn’t until about a week and a half later that Suki finally saw Bryce, or interacted at all with him. He’d texted a rather blunt ‘👃’ to which she’d read off and headed over to his apartment.

Almost as soon as Bryce opened the door to her his lips were on hers, not even giving her time for a greeting. He seemed on a mission. It was forceful, intentioned. Bryce heaved her up so that her legs wrapped around his waist with ease. Suki was surprised, but didn’t let on.

Pleasantries abandoned, they stumbled to the bedroom as one, continuing to kiss and touch their way out of most of their clothes – which were now strewn in a trail from the front door to Bryce’s bed.

He threw her down on to the mattress as though she was a pillow. Once Bryce had Suki’s hands pinned either side of her on the bed and was giving all his attention to her neck; she decided to ask him. It did seem to have affected how he was that night, after all.

“How are you feeling? You know about the surgery?”

“Fine,” he muttered through a tirade of kisses to Suki’s neck, much more focused on that than the conversation.

“So, like, the other day… where did you disappear to?”

He sighed and removed his lips from her neck, not lifting his face to meet hers, but muttered into the crook of her neck:

“It doesn’t matter right now.” He smoothed his hands down her bare stomach.

“Okay…” she threaded her fingers through his hair as he started moving again. But she couldn’t just drop it. He’d been so weird and then left without a word? He was being weird then. Her curiosity was getting the better of her.

“Have you spoken to Dr. Emery since?”

Bryce let out what sounded like a half-grunt, half-sigh, and rolled away from her, staring at the ceiling.

“Can we just- not talk about it? Please?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.” He laid there for a few seconds, seeming to compose himself. Then he turned so that he was on his side, “come here.”

So, it didn’t seem Suki was getting a confession out of him any time soon. He wasn’t his usual cocky, playful self that day, but rather blunt and straightforward, and really focused.

And sure, Suki was only there for sex – it wasn’t like she was his therapist or anything – but she was still a little peeved off that her attempts to help him had been brushed off to the point where he just left her. But, she supposed it wasn’t her business, and she should stop being so nosy.

She relented and leaned into him, letting his kisses absolve her of thought.

Which – although unknown to Suki – was exactly what Bryce was doing, too.

—-

But the next time she saw him – in a group setting at their apartment – he was back to his usual self. He was absolutely giving her whiplash, and Suki wasn’t sure how she felt about it.

They all lounged around in the living area, TV playing in the background. It was their first day off in what felt like far too long. Bryce was bickering with Jackie over something trivial while Suki lay beside him with her head on Aurora’s shoulder, the weeks’ work catching up with her. Elijah and Sienna were watching funny videos on Sienna’s phone.

“Nope. Absolutely not,” Jackie said. “Tomato Ketchup belongs in the cupboard.”

“You have to be crazy! It goes in the fridge, it even says so on the bottle!”

“But why would you want cold ketchup with hot fries?”

“Because of the temperature sensation!”

Suki sighed, zoning out of the ridiculous bickering, but smiling to herself all the same. Aurora was breathing quietly, relaxing Suki’s heartbeat.

After a little while, the conversation seemed to have changed to Donohue’s the other week.

“Oh come on, you brought your own shades!”

“I know, it’s because I’m just that cool.”

“Pfft,” Jackie snorted.

“I wish someone had caught that on film, we were epic,” Bryce grinned.

“Oh, of course I filmed it!” Sienna interrupted, her attention pulled away from the video she was showing Elijah.

“Really?”

“Here-“ Sienna handed him the phone, and Suki could hear the muffled recording of her and Bryce at karaoke.

Truthfully, she’d already watched it a fair few times. Just to check she didn’t do anything embarrassing. But she had found herself picking at every little thing she’d done. And marvelling over how effortless and comfortable Bryce had looked. Watching the way he moved and grinned as he sang, looking silly but like you’re laughing with him, not at him. The way they’d bounced off each other up there.

She could hear the laughed ‘you’re the one that I want’, and lifted her head from Aurora’s shoulder to look over for Bryce’s reaction. He seemed a lot closer now that her head was straight. Bryce was smiling, corners of his eyes crinkled and the ghost of a dimple on his right cheek. The song came to an end and Suki could hear Sienna’s screaming in the phone at quite the volume.

“Send me this, Si?” He asked.

“Yeah! I’ll airdrop it right now,” she grinned, taking back her phone and getting to it.

“Why would you want video evidence of you looking and sounding like that?” Teased Jackie.

“I obviously want it so I can admire Suki’s amazing karaoke.”

“You heard me right? I can’t sing for the life of me,” Suki scoffed.

Bryce just winked, pulling out his own phone to save the video.

“I actually love when people film me doing random shit,” she smiled, “it’s like I get to take a peek at myself through someone else’s eyes. Who I am when I’m not performing for the mirror or my own camera, you know?” She said it more to herself than anyone else.

“Yeah. I know completely,” Bryce smiled back, his shoulder almost grazing hers. There was a moment they just looked at each other in complete understanding.

“Ugh. I hate when people film me,” Jackie groaned, breaking their reverie.

Bryce broke his gaze with Suki and laughed at Jackie, setting off another silly bickering fest between them.

Suki felt so insanely comfortable with everyone there at that point that she couldn’t believe she’d ever felt awkward about it.

—-

“Yeah, so, I’ll see you guys later.” Bryce smiled on his way out. Everyone was getting ready for bed.

“Yep! See you dumbass,” said Jackie affectionally as she patted him on the back.

Everyone said their goodbyes, and Bryce slipped out of the door. One by one they all retreated to their own rooms, saying goodnight to one another. Once she was sure they were all gone, Suki snuck back over to the door, and opened it up to a grinning Bryce leaning on the wall.

She put her finger to his lips, earning a humoured nod. Bryce stepped inside and Suki shut the door as quietly as she could and the two tip-toed over to her bedroom. He’d given her the signal earlier, and she’d texted this plan. After all, they really didn’t need everyone on their backs about it. She didn’t ask about the surgery again.

—-

Towards the end of November, Suki was just returning from picking up a few bits from the convenience store and moving back from the chill air into the warm hall of their apartment building. She was prepped with chips and candy for her first day off in ages.

As she climbed the flights of stairs (she wanted to keep fit so avoided the elevator), she could hear voices coming from her floor. An exhausted looking mother who Suki recognised as Gia, the woman across the hall from them, was holding her son’s hand and seemed restless on the phone. She smiled warmly as she saw Suki, although they hadn’t interacted much they’d become friendly.

“No, like right now,” she said into the phone. She scrunched up her face at whatever the receiving end said to her. The little boy, Tommy, pulled on her sleeve.

Suki came closer and placed her bag down. Then she crouched and placed a finger to her lips, beckoning Tommy over to her.

“Hi!” She whispered when Tommy approached. He was about 3, so his conversation wasn’t that wide yet. He just smiled at her, deep dimples and curls on his head. So cute!

They messed around a little before Gia hung up, and looked even more stressed than she had before.

“You okay?” Suki asked.

Gia appeared to think for a moment on whether she’d share with Suki.

“No. Work needs me and honestly, I need the hours. I can’t take him to work, he’s too young and he’ll just run around the store and I can’t keep an eye on him. But Tommy’s dad is busy and I can’t find a sitter…” she pinched the bridge of her nose.

“I’ll watch him. If you’re okay with that, of course, I’d be more than happy to help.”

“Really? You honestly wouldn’t mind?”

“Hey, I’m happy to look after him a little while.”

“Oh Suki! You’re a lifesaver.”

Gia scrambled out many more thanks’, told Suki she’d be gone for about four hours (are you sure it’s okay? Really, no pressure) rushed out her number to Suki so she could check up on them once Suki assured her for the umpteenth time that she didn’t mind, and hurried down the stairs.

For the first hour or so, Suki and Tommy were having a great time. They played peek-a-boo, Suki drew some animals for him to colour in, and even made a little fort on the sofa.

Eventually, Suki needed the bathroom. She was a little apprehensive to leave Tommy even for only two minutes, but it had to be done. So she went as quick as she could and then they continued on with their play. Suki even supplied a snack of banana and peanut butter toast.

What must have been a half hour after Suki went to the toilet, the doorbell rang.

“Ding dong!” Imitated Tommy.

“Yes! Now you sit on the couch while I check who it is.”

Tommy jumped on the sofa and crossed his legs exaggeratedly, wanting to impress her. She gave him an encouraging thumbs up.

As Suki put her hand to the doorknob she was struck with a little confusion, had someone forgotten something they needed for work?

Opening the door however, revealed otherwise. Bryce was stood in the doorway once more, leaning casually on the frame.

“Hey hot stuff.”

“Bryce! What the f- uhh heck are you doing?”

Bryce looked confused when Suki seemed to not expect him, or go in for a kiss. And he was more confused when she opened the door wider to reveal Tommy behind her.

“Um… you… you sent me the nose,” he whispered behind a hand.

“I- what?” She asked, shocked. Her eyes fell on the shape on the sofa. “Sh- It must’ve been the kid.”

“Ah.” Bryce pulled his lips into his mouth like he was about to laugh. Suki beckoned Bryce in and shut the door so that Tommy couldn’t escape. She crossed over to the sofa and picked up her phone. Sure enough, her last sent texts were way too many nose emojis.

Santa Fe: 👃👃👃👃👃

Scalpel Jockey: i’ll be at yours ASAP?

Santa Fe: 👃👃👃👃👃👃👃👃👃(£&&£?

Scalpel Jockey: lol hold ur horses

He must’ve struck when she’d gone to the bathroom, and she had forgotten to lock her phone. She wondered how Tommy had gotten ahold of her text messages and the nose emoji in particular, but of course…

“God it’s- it’s in my recents,” she blushed.

Bryce gave her a shit-eating grin. “Yeah it is.”

She wanted to hit him, but it probably wouldn’t be good manners in front of a child so she just gave him a death glare.

“Who’s this?” Tommy asked, still sitting nicely on the sofa.

“This is my… this is Bryce!”

“Hey little guy.” Bryce crouched down in front of him and shook his hand gently. Tommy seemed very pleased at this.

“So… what’s the deal?” Bryce asked Suki in a hushed tone as he settled in next to Tommy on the couch. She told him the story.

“Everyone’s at work,” she finished, “my plans were originally chips, candy and Netflix but, I think they changed for the better, right, Tommy?” She grinned at the little guy, earning a giggle from him.

“Uh so you had the day off and the place to yourself and you weren’t even going to invite me over?” Bryce mocked offence.

“Yep. My life doesn’t revolve around your d- uhh nose.”

Bryce howled a laugh, enough to make Tommy join in.

It took him a while to recover, at which point he just tapped the side of his nose like they’d shared a secret, but of course, the secret was his no- uhh dick.

“So, uh, sorry you came all the way here but, as you can see, I’m a little busy.”

Bryce nodded, still grinning from the laughing. “Eh, whatever. I had a nice walk over here. And I think that nose quip made it worth it.”

And then, in yet another divine intervention, just as she was about to usher Bryce out Suki’s pager beeped.

“Can this day get any more hectic...” she muttered, more to herself than to Bryce as she stood from the sofa and patted herself down to find her pager. She began rushing around to grab her coat. “I’m going to have to take him with me or- or… or something.” She was bustling around the apartment at speed, frantically collecting her things.

Bryce cleared his throat, causing Suki to look at him as though she’d momentarily forgotten he was there.

“I’ll watch him.”

“What?”

“The kid, I’ll watch him while you’re at work.”

“Bryce he’s not even mine, I don’t know if Gia would be comfortable with this. I can’t ask you to do that.”

“Obviously he’s not yours, I think I would’ve known by now. I’ve met Gia, she loves me. Right, Tommy? Your mommy thinks I’m so cool.”

“When?! Actually, don’t answer that,” Suki said, realising he must’ve met her from one of the many times he’d been round. “Call her for me.” Suki threw her phone at Bryce, who caught it expertly, before she rushed to her bedroom to freshen up a little.

She splashed water on her face and made sure she had everything she needed before hurrying back to the living area.

“She’s okay with it. Something about Doctors being trustworthy,” Bryce smirked form the sofa, where he had Tommy on his knees and was swaying him from side to side as though playing aeroplane.

Suki raised an eyebrow, some Doctors were trustworthy. “Are you sure? I don’t know how long I’ll be.”

“I’m sure, now go.”

He gave her a confident smile as she closed the door behind her.

—-

The page was because one of Suki’s patients was becoming critical, and all hands on deck were needed. There wasn’t a lot she could do once she was there except help to stabilise him, make him comfortable, and wait to see if he improved. It was physically and emotionally taxing but soon enough she was headed back home, and was honestly looking forward to seeing that sweet little kid and Bryce being an idiot as usual.

When Suki snuck into the apartment, there was no noise. She looked over to see Bryce asleep on the sofa, a snoring Tommy in his arms. He looked so at peace, so gentle, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks and his lips slightly parted. Given most situations she’d been looking at his lips, this was an odd contrast. But it suited him. God, she hadn’t forgotten, but it was certainly a reminder of just how pretty he was. His strong arms looked delicate as they lay protectively around Tommy’s small figure. Tommy was curled into his chest like a little koala.

Seeing that, all her anxieties were quelled for a moment. It was like a ‘hey, there’s still good in the world’ nudge. Odd that that good was from Bryce but, also not so odd. He had managed to talk her down after she’d had that difficult day, after all.

Suki moved over to the sofa quietly and perched on the coffee table. She just sat, looking, for a moment. Finally Bryce wasn’t running his mouth off about something. His quiet breaths were masked by Tommy’s purr-like snores, but she could just about hear them, like a live, ASMR metronome. She found herself breathing in sync with him.

Eventually she reached out a hand to gently shake Bryce’s shoulder.

“Hey,” she said softly.

Bryce’s eyes blinked open slowly, confusion shifting to a bemusing sort of tenderness as soon as they spotted Suki. Suddenly he didn’t seem worried about where he was.

“Hey,” he whispered, voice slightly croaky. Careful not to move too much for Tommy’s sake, Bryce brought a hand up to clear the sleep from his eyes. He watched Suki, noticing she looked significantly more worn than she had before she’d left.

They sat like that for a while, mostly silence to let Tommy continue resting, but it felt okay. Suki ‘life embarrasses me’ Moore felt completely fine sitting in silence, somehow. Maybe it was the fact that she herself was getting sleepy and her eyes kept closing until she remembered she was sat on a coffee table and couldn’t sleep there. Maybe it was left over sensitivity from today’s chapter of Existentialism: Doctor’s Edition. Maybe she just wasn’t worried about what other people thought because the only other people were a sleeping toddler and someone who she was simply sleeping with. Maybe.

Not so long after Suki returned there was a knock at the door, revealing Gia.

“Hi! I’m so sorry I took so long, I don’t know how I’ll ever thank you both for looking after him. Hey, little guy!” She greeted Tommy as scooped him up in her arms as he waddled over to her.

“It’s okay. It was all Bryce, really.”

“He’s a pleasure. You had him a while before I popped in though - I can’t take all the credit,” Bryce grinned, all charm.

“Well, both of you. Be sure to cash in a favour whenever you need one.”

And with that Gia and Tommy left, all thankful smiles.

“So…” Bryce turned to Suki, eyebrows raised in humour. Then he flicked a thumb in the direction of her bedroom. She pulled up one side of her mouth in a smile, reached down to grab one of his hands and pulled him into her bedroom.

—-

After the fact, and way later than either of them expected, the duo were beginning to get a little sleepy. The clock on Suki’s bedside table read 01:14am. Bryce sat up in the bed, rubbing his eyes and looking for his clothes. He noticed Suki looking a little distant.

“Was I that bad?”

She laughed gently, no real humour behind it. “I would’ve kicked you out if you were bad.”

“What’s wrong?” The concern laced in his voice brought Suki back to that time he’d found her in the supply closet, and she knew at that moment she could tell him.

“My patient, the one I was paged for, he’s not doing so well. It’s part of the job and all but, it still hurts every time.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. You’ll do your best, I know you will.”

“Thanks.”

There was a moment where Bryce hesitated, considering giving her a comforting pat but decided against it. He continued looking around for his clothes, but was clearly very tired and moving slow where he sat up in the bed. Suki sighed. I’m so going to regret this. Oh well.

“It’s late, stay. Just make sure you’re gone by the time I wake up.”

“What about your roommates?”

“You’ll just have to be more careful this time.”

“If you’re sure.”

Suki just nodded. She turned away to face the wall, shutting her eyes and waiting for sleep.

“Thank you,” she heard Bryce mutter behind her. Really it was him she should be thanking, for looking after Tommy, but she was afraid to breach the silence again.

Moreover, she was doing it for herself more than for his sake. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be alone as she entered unconsciousness that night.

Soon enough Suki drifted off into a peaceful and primarily uninterrupted sleep.

Because she definitely hadn’t awoken when she felt Bryce stir beside her. He seemed to sit up and stay there a while. But not wanting to give herself away, Suki stayed stock still. And then it felt like his lips brushed her shoulder, and his hand brushed her hair, but the next thing she knew she was falling back into unconsciousness, so maybe it was a dream…

—-

When Suki awoke Bryce was gone, as he said he would be. The spot on the bed beside her was cold. Stretching out her muscles, Suki realised she’d slept much sounder than she’d anticipated after the rush into the hospital. She didn’t want to attribute that to Bryce’s presence, but perhaps just knowing someone was there was all she needed.

Feeling energised for the day Suki slipped out of bed and began to bustle about her morning routine: a quick shower, minimal face care, a large mug of coffee with oat milk (it added a nice sweetness without the need for sugar), brushing her teeth, picking something warm and cosy to wear in, and then rushing out to hop on the T.

When she finally reached Edenbrook Suki was in high spirits, bouncing along to the changing rooms. She actually felt hopeful about her patient, too. Perhaps a good nights sleep was all she needed to treat him properly, and all he needed to recover.

Getting a little ahead of herself, it wasn’t until a few moments passed that Suki realised she was standing outside of the changing rooms, hand hovering over the doorknob. She could hear voices.

“Nah, I’m just feeling good is all,” ther first voice said. Of course, the voice was very familiar to Suki as it was Bryce’s voice.

“Oh yeah? Got some cool medical stuff going on?” The second voice joked.

“Pfft. Not after the surgery disaster.” Hm. Okay. Suki couldn’t help but feel a little miffed that Bryce was talking about the surgery with whoever this was, but that he hadn’t shared with her. Again, she felt bad for feeling that way since she wasn’t in a position to earn the information, but all the same – it felt a bit shitty.

She realised then that she’d subconsciously decided to eavesdrop on this conversation, but she wasn’t quite sure why. It wasn’t like they would stop if she walked in.

The second voice laughed, and there was a clang of a locker. “Okay, so you’re just in a good mood for no particular reason?”

“That’s right.”

Then there was a scuffle and a couple of grunts, like someone had rushed the other.

“Oooh! You’re sleeping with someone!” The second voice exclaimed, obviously having found some information.

It was at this point Suki knew she shouldn’t have kept listening. But, she did.

“Give it back.”

“You are, right?”

“Maybe,” he said. Although Suki couldn’t see him, she could hear his bragging smile. There was a pause, and Suki wished she could see the expressions on their faces to gauge what was going on. Or even see what on earth the second voice had found.

“You like her.”

There was a poignant pause.

“I like her body.”

Oh.

Suki stepped away abruptly, she didn’t need to hear anymore. For some reason hearing that brought on a stabbing pain in her chest and a flip in her stomach. Perhaps it was that the last couple of weeks had been so easy and comfortable between them had made Suki forget that he wasn’t obliged to be her friend. Or even was her friend. Obviously the only thing he was interested in was her body, and she was stupid to think otherwise. She should’ve never let herself feel safe when their arrangement had been so clear: keep it casual.