#i realised this song said the word half twice followed by the word eye and then i was like oooh im fucked

[puzzlefaggot]

⚠️eye strain/flash warning

(aini spoilers) i dont usually post edits here but i think this ones pretty good... hai

song = headlock by imogen heap

[5sosxqueen]

Luke

~Part 1~ , Part 2 > , Part 3 > , Part 4 >

Saying this in advance, yes, I am aware now that Nando's isn't a pizza place... 🫠

Warnings: depictions of illness, vomiting, choking, coughing

Written in 2018

Published (Wattpad) - Jan 29, 2018

Word Count: 1894

Updates are every Tuesday and Thursday

Also Available on Wattpad and AO3!!!

Part 1:

Luke's POV:

     "PIZZA!!!" Michael shouted nearly splitting everyone's eardrums in the process. We all chuckled as we walked out to the van and started singing our song Pizza.

     "Nando's does sound nice. I'm starving!" I said with a giant smile plastered on my face.

     "That it does, my brother." Ashton yelled and pounced onto my back, practically forcing me to run with him on my back to the van.

     "LETS GO!!!" Calum yelled. We piled into the van and drove to our favorite pizza place ever. The drive was relatively short, it only being 5 minutes, thankfully. "Wheeew!" He yelled as we got out of the van.

     "Hello, can we have two large pepperoni, bacon, and sausage pizzas please?" Michael bombarded the woman at the counter suddenly.

     "Of course, will that be for here or to go?" She asked kindly with a poor attempt at hiding a grin.

     "Here please." Ashton said walking slowly up to Michael, who was lifting himself up onto the counter slightly,and put his hand on his shoulder to remind him that we are in public. I rolled my eyes at his over-eagerness and the woman giggled. He is literally always like this when we get pizza.

     We talked to the woman as we waited for our pizza to come out. They were running a tad bit slow today so no one entered until after our food was ready. We sat down once we saw it coming. No sooner had it been set down we dug in. I have always loved Nando's.

     For some odd reason, I was having bit of difficulty chewing the pizza though. My jaw felt weak. When I tried to swallow it I almost couldn't. I pushed the thought to the back of my mind to be dealt with another time. I wasn't going to concern anyone and let myself worry over nothing.

     I managed to eat half of my first slice of pizza when it happened. I suddenly felt like I couldn't breathe. Of course I've choked on food before, bit this didn't feel right. I started to cough and the boys looked at me and asked if I was alright. I nodded, but I honestly wasn't too sure. Normally if I choke on food it only takes once or twice to get the food out of my wind pipe, but this time that's wasn't doing shit for me.

      "Luke, damn, you sure you're ok?" I shook my head this time. I couldn't get a single breath in through the endless coughing. Even the woman from before, ran over to us with some water in an attempt to ease this terrible feeling. The lads we're quick to pat my back, but nothing was working they could see the intense panic set in my eyes as I tried to get the pizza to dislodge from my throat. I suddenly felt sick from the constant coughing. I got up and ran out of the restaurant still hacking and choking violently. The lads followed me out and continued to smack my back, but even harder as I leant down and placed my hands on my knees to brace myself. I suddenly chocked out the little bit of food I consumed onto the pavement below my feet. I was still coughing and once again I vomited and the choking finally let up some. I was desperately trying to gather air into my lungs. I felt dizzy and light headed and I grabbed onto Michael's arm as he reach over my shoulder.

    "I'm... Really light headed." I breathed out in my now raspy voice. Michael tightened him grip on me as I began to shake some.

    "Not surprised, that last for almost 2 minutes. You good now?" I nodded slightly before my legs finally could no longer hold my weight. I tightened my grip on Michael's waist and he eased me to the ground.

     I looked down when I realised the probable reason I choked to that extent. "Guys I don't think I can swallow properly." They looked at me with lost looked etched onto their faces.

     "Why do you say that?" Ash asked me clearly both concerned and confused.

     "The whole time I was eating my throat just didn't feel right. I don't know how to explain it. I guess it felt weak...." I said as I tried to peice together the feeling. "Mmmmn, my stomach still feels kind of icky."

     "Do you still feel like you might be sick?" Michael asked slightly tightening his grip on me again.

     "Umm a bit, but I don't think I will." They all nodded and Michael grip loosened again. "I'll let you know if I do." They agreed. The woman walked back out with the water I had left on the table.

     "Here slow sips." She handed it to me and I took some sips cautiously. I could swallow the water just fine thankfully, but I didn't overdue it.

     "Thank you." I said as she walked back inside.

     I felt the water sloshing around a bit on my still nauseated tummy. "Michael help..." He helped me lean over since I was still very lightheaded and weak. I gagged and coughed a bit as the water made a reappearance. I dry heaved and nearly passed out from lack of oxygen. I started to fall forward.

     "Woah, bud, easy. Breathe Lukey boy." I leaned into him and cried. I've never felt this bad. Everyone came into a group hug.

     "I'm so sorry I ruined lunch... We were supposed to have a good time..." I was nearly screaming.

     "Luke, you didn't ruin anything. You couldn't help that. Are you ok now though." I nodded and sniffled. "Let's get you home." Ashton said as he helped Michael pick me back up and led me to the van.

Calum's POV:

     Luke had given us quite a scare at Nando's. Luke had fallen asleep on the way back to the bus. I carried him inside and laid him down on his bunk. It was getting late anyways so he needed the rest. "Guys, about what Luke said about not being able to swallow, do you think we should call Matt and talk to him?" They nodded.

     "I definitely think that would be wise." Ash explained as he got his phone out and dialed Matt's number, putting it onto speaker.

     The phone rang a couple times. "Hey Ash. Everything alright?" We don't normally call him unless somethings happened. He normally is the one calling us.

     "Not really." Michael and I both said.

     "Uh oh. What's going on guys?" Matt questioned.

     "Well he all decided to go to Nando's for dinner, no surprise there, but Luke couldn't eat the pizza properly. About half way through his first piece he started to choke on some of it, and you know how normally he is able to get anything out within a couple tries?" Michael started.

     "Yes. I don't like where this is going.... Go on." Matt grew truely worried for our blue eyed bandmate.

     "Well, he wasn't able to do so this time he spent, like, 2 full minutes coughing until he choked up what he had eaten and processed to barf up whatever was in his stomach. He told us something that really worried all of us too, being that he couldn't swallow. Poor guy was so lightheaded he almost passed out." Michael continued, with Matts worry growing immensely.

     Matt sighed. "Ok here's what I'll do. I will send a medic to stay will you guys for a while. If it happens to that extent again we will need to seek medical attention. Not being able to swallow properly is very serious."

     "That's why we figured it would be a good idea to call you. He hasn't eaten much today and he threw up, not once, but twice because of this." I stated.

     "Well I'll send a medic there and we will go from there. Keep me posted guys." Matt said before hanging up.

     True to his word, a medic showed up around 30 minutes later with a to-go bag. "Hello guys, my name is Cash. I'll be here keeping an eye out for Luke for a while. Don't worry, I will try not to be in the way." He shook all our hands, minus Luke of course. "I have a few questions though." We nodded, ready to answer anything that came our way. "So has anything like this happened before?" We shook our heads. "Was it just with eating food or was it with water or salivia as well?"

     "I believe it was just with the food." I explained.

     "Ok. What exactly happened today. Tell me why I am here." Cash stated.

     "We went out to eat today. He was able to eat about a quarter of what he had on his plate. He started to choke, but none of us fully thought anything of it. We just asked if he was ok and he nodded at first, but after a good 20 seconds of him coughing we saw him really starting to panic as he couldn't draw a breath. All of a sudden he jumped up and rushed out of the restaurant and back onto the side walk still choking. We ran out there behind him and he couldn't stop couphing and it eventually made him puke. And he got insanely lightheaded and fell. Then he tried to drink some water, which only caused him to vomit again." Ashton explained as Cash nodded as he jotted the info onto a notepad.

     "Ok. Did he say anything during this episode? Anything at all?" He asked.

      "Before getting sick the second time, he said he was having some trouble swallowing the entire time eating." I added.

     "Ok. Do you think we could vet him to try to eat something now I know he may be afraid to eat at this current moment, but I would like to see if it happens again?" We nodded and I went to go wake him.

     I gently shook him awake. "Luke buddy," he rolled over and looked at me. "Hey I know this might be this last thing you'd want to do, bit we need you to try to eat something again. Can you try for us?" He was very hesitant, but reluctantly agreed. He got out of his bunk and I saw him trying to prep his weakened throat. I could see in his eyes that he feared a repeat of earlier. I felt awful that he was going through this.

     He stepped into the main area of the bus and was instantly greeted by Cash. He had explained to Luke what was going on. cash asked one of us to make him something small to try to eat and I got up and made him a quick sand which. "Ok Luke, I want you to try to eat the whole thing, ok? Luke nodded at Cash's word and swallowed hard once again as he took the sand which in his hands.

     "Thanks Cal." He took a bite of the sand which, feeling a bit uneasy that we were all watching him. We could see him chewing way more than usual. We could already see with his first try swallowing, he had extreme difficulty, but it went down. The process repeated and he started vetting a bit more comfort. This did not last long though.....

[bluewatersfairy]

more than enough - j.t.

for the best experience, please listen to this song whilst reading 🤍🌌

synopsis: on vacation, reader helps jayson rest and relax 

warnings: mature content, MINORS DNI!  oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex (don’t forget to wrap before you tap), shower sex.  it’s lowkey tame compared to some other fics i’ve written lmao.

word count: 5.4k (so sorry)

•••

Quietly, you followed the cobblestone path around the side of your air b&b, wrapping your robe around your body just a little bit tighter.  You appreciated the darkness, and were genuinely surprised and in awe of the view of the stars there was in this part of the world.  The light pollution was so little, it almost made being surrounded by darkness comforting, like a childhood blanket.  You wanted to bathe in the darkness, lay on the grass or the roof and stare at the sky to see just how many stars you cold see, but you didn’t want to do it alone.  Plus, the half court at the back of the house had lights with far too much power and it did not seem like they were turning off anytime soon. 

“You know,” you began as you walked through the entrance, your voice pulling Jayson’s attention away form the ball in his hands, “the point of a vacation is to rest and relax.”  You leant against the fence, your arms crossed over your stomach to keep your robe closed. 

“I am resting and relaxing,” he replied with a smile, his hands tossing the ball back and forth to one another, like a nervous habit, “this is relaxing to me.”  He dribbled the ball twice before shooting it at the hoop, his eyes never leaving yours. 

“It’s not exactly resting though,” you countered as he started to walk towards you, his hands behind his back.  As he got closer, you could make out the droplets of sweat that covered his naked torso and dripped down his forehead.  He did not look relaxed or rested at all. 

Jayson’s lips pressed to the top of your head as he came to a stop in front of you. “I rest during the day and relax out here at night.”  

You rolled your eyes and took a step back to move to find his phone to turn off his speaker.  His eyes stayed glued to you as you moved, the feeling leaving an icy touch at the bottom of your spine.  Instinctively, you pulled your shoulders back to combat the shiver, not wanting to distract his trance.  You were able to stop his music and turn off his speaker before he protested in any type of way. 

“Cmon now Ma, it’s just us two out here for miles, I’m not disturbing anybody.”  His hands found your hips as he came up behind you, “let my finish this playlist and then I’ll be inside, I promise.”  

Sweetly, Jayson placed a kiss on your jaw as one of his hands pushed you into him.  It didn’t take much more than that to realise he was about to use his size against you, and he was making a grab for his phone and speaker.  

“I would say you’re disturbing me.” you said as you dodged his hand again, carefully backing away from him and judging the situation.  Jayson had a somewhat wicked look in his eyes, the playful type that could switch very easily.  

“Let me make it up to you then,” he said as he lunged for you again.  He barely missed you, almost managing to grab the tie of your robe to pull you in.

“You can make it up to me by coming inside,” you quipped as you made a jump for the gate.  Unfortunately Jayson anticipated your moved and partially caught you mid-air, swinging you around as you squealed.  

“Thank you.” 

Victorious, he now held his phone and speaker.  You could hear his smirk as he put you down.  As you turned to face him again, your robe lost the little hold it had left and opened, exposing the black satin and lace babydoll you had on.  In real time, you watched Jayson shut down, the ball he had at his feet being kicked to the side as he stepped towards you.  

“Don’t,” you stopped him by grabbing his wrist, “you are not getting your sweat all over this.  It is new.  I will kill you.”  You let go of his hand and he smiled lightly.

“Yes ma’am,” he said with his hands up in defense.  

Jayson slid his tongue over his bottom lip and tilted his head to the right.  His eyes followed the lace to the swell of your chest and down to your thick thighs.  He cleared his throat and crossed his arms over his chest. 

“You’re not very subtle,” you teased, “might be something to work on if you want me to come to more of your games.”

You started to walk around him, nudging the basketball gently towards the baseline.  Jayson’s eyes followed, but he didn’t move from where he stood. 

“Maybe I’ll second think that,” he mumbled as he finally turned to face you at the exit, “you might just be too distracting.”

“Clearly not that distracting,” you teased with your hands behind your back, “if I was, you would already be in the shower getting ready to fuck me, but alas,” you shrugged, “here you stand.” 

Jayson raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips together.  You bit back saying something more and turned to walk back around the side of the house and to your bedroom.  You didn’t need to add anything extra to your walk, your babydoll and robe had given him enough to think about.  Plus, you had told him what you wanted, it wouldn’t be long for him to follow you.  

Back in your room, you picked up your book from the bedside table and laid out.  You figured it wouldn’t be long until Jayson joined you, but you preferred doing something with your time.  Time either passed quickly, or you were reading faster than usual because when the bedroom door reopened, you’d reached the climax of the chapter and things were starting to fall in line.  

“Those lights are hot,” Jayson interrupted your concentration as he dropped his shirt on the bed.  He shook his head when you made eye contact over the top of your book.  

He made another comment about the lights and as important as you were sure it was, you weren’t really taking it in.  Your eyes scanned over his shoulders and down his toned arms and over his torso.  You swore he was wearing his sweats lower than before.

“You just gon’ stare or answer my question?” He snapped his fingers in front of him, bringing you back to reality.

“You look yummy, is it my fault?” you countered, placing your book back on the bedside table.  He chuckled and you pulled yourself to your feet.

“See, I’m inside because of you so some could argue it is your fault.”  He smirked as you came to stand in front of him.

Looking down at you, he fiddled with the drawstrings of his pants.  He had a cocky demeanor, his smug grin as irritating as it was attractive.  His pants dropped as you stepped closer to him again and he took your chin between his fingers.  

“Would you like to join me in the shower?” he asked as he dipped his head closer to yours, his lips hovering over yours.  

“Do you even need to ask?” 

Jayson nodded his head and took a step back from your body.  He traced the band of his briefs before pulling them down, knowing you were watching his every move.  When his back turned so he could open the bathroom door, he tensed and flexed his back muscles.  Though you focused your attention of his body, you tried your best not to roll your eyes at his cocky manner.  You knew he thought he was top 5, he didn’t need to know that you see him the same way, just that he isn’t 5, 4, 3, or 2.  

Alina Baraz’s soft voice filled the bathroom, something that had only ever been an invitation for you.  You let your robe fall down your shoulders and tossed it lazily at the bed before sauntering towards the doorway.  You caught a glimpse of yourself in the room’s mirror and you couldn’t help but take a second look.  The soft curves of your figure filled out your baby doll beautifully, you looked angelic, sun-kissed and edible.   

He’d dimmed the lights in the bathroom, giving the room more of a soothing nuance than the burning yellow lights typically offered.  Jayson was already under the water and staring directly at you when you looked up at him.  The shower was only separated from the rest of the bathroom by one sheet of glass.  This meant that it was easy to slip in and out, and even easier to watch your lover if you pleased.  Just as you were from the moment you stepped in, you barely paid attention to the unused towel that sat folded on the floor.  Instead, you watched as the water pebbled over his hair and down his chest.  He noticed, his chin jutting up as he bit back a smirk.  

“I know I say it all the time,” he shrugged as his eyes scanned down your figure, “but God took his sweet time with you Ma.”  

As if by instinct, you rolled your eyes and locked the door behind you.  

His gaze burnt into your back and raised the hairs on your neck.  Blind to his actions, you still knew where his attention laid, unwavering.  You smoothed your hands over the satin material and tugged at the hem, suddenly very aware of how little it covered.  He knocked down a towel or two on his way in and you knew that if you were to bend over, he’d be able to see all of you, something that never came without a flash of nerves.  So you crouched instead and he let his disapproval be known. 

“I’d much rather you voice your disapproving thoughts than make sounds about them,” you ran your tongue over your bottom lip as you turned to face him.  Jayson hadn’t moved since you’d first walked in, it was his body language that gave him away.  Someone else wanted a part of the conversations.

“Cmon now,” he taunted, “I’ve never complained before, why would I start now?”

You took another step towards him with your hands held behind your back.  He licked his bottom lip as you took another step, his eyes tight on your thighs.  They were hypnotic to him.  Once he’d first touched them, he couldn’t seem to get enough.  Always staring, always touching.  If the opportunity presented itself, he’d rest his head in your lap, his fingers tracing up and down your thighs, his lips following suit.  He paid extra attention to them when he was between them.  Biting and sucking, kissing them as he played with your mental and told you secrets until your head was spinning.  

“I like you in black,” he mumbled, half a world away.  You lifted the hem ever so slightly, gripping the material at your waist.  He sucked in a breath, his eyes slowly losing that innocent glimmer that had initially brought you in.

“Take it off,” Jayson breathed out.  You’d stopped in your stride and watched as his head lowered ever so slightly.  He looked you in the eye and waited for some type of response.  You liked it like this, when you weren’t sure what his next move would be.

“Good boys use their manners.”  It was your turn to taunt him and he raised his chin again.  You smiled ever so slightly, you liked to challenge him.  Where was the fun in compliance?  

“Please,” he forced out, his head shaking side to side, “take it off.”

You bit the inside of your cheek as you examined him one last time.  His chest was rising and falling at a slightly faster pace than usual and blood was clearly pulsing through him at a heightened speed.  If it wasn’t evident through the redness in his forehead and cheeks, his hardened cock gave it all away. 

“As you please,” you curtseyed before pulling the luscious material over your head.  You tossed it to the basin and let Jayson drink in your body before you made your way to his beckoning embrace.  

“You should dress in those things more often,” he mumbled against the top of your head as his hands wrapped around your waist.  You tilted your head up and caught his eye before he gently pressed his lips to yours, “it makes watching you undress that much more interesting.”

You laughed as he smiled and pressed your hands into his chest, “here I was thinking watching me get undressed after work was the most interesting part of your day.”  He grinned down at you and you raised to your tippy toes.  You snaked your hands around his neck, feeling the hot water mix with the grit on the surface of his skin as you kissed him.  You loved the sound your lips made when you were kissing.  It made your heart sing, just like everything with Jayson did. 

“Turn around,” you chuckled as you pulled away from him, “I’ll wash your back.”

He made an offhanded comment about cleanliness but you just rolled your eyes.  While he washed his face and chest, you ran a cloth with lathered body wash over his tattooed back.  You were gentle but made sure to get rid of the sweat that covered him, rinsing the wash before running your fingers up and down his back.  He hummed as you did it, his head tilting back in ecstasy.  

“Sometimes I wish I wasn’t so tall,” he paused as you pressed a kiss to his back, “I love it when you play all in my hair.”  He was facing you again, his hands gripping at your waist. 

“Baths baby,” you reminded him, running the trapped water over his shoulders, “we don’t always have to stand.”

Jayson opened his mouth like he was going to say something else, but instead, he lifted you and turned so you were under the stream of water.  You gasped as the warm water hit you directly in the back and again when he pressed you to the side of the tiled wall.

“Thought you liked standing?” he suggested, his head lowered so his mouth was mere centimetres from your own.  His voice had changed again, deeper, raspier, sexier.

Your fingernails danced on the sides of his torso, suddenly unsure where they should go.  You could embrace him, pull his naked body on top of your own.  Or, you could bring them up to his chest and neck and silently ask his mouth to cover yours.  Every passing moment sent a direct pulse to your sex, burning and pooling, eager for his touch.  

“Not such a talker now, are you?” he smirked at his taunt and moved even closer to you if that was possible.  The hand that was on your waist reached for you right breast.  His palm, slightly wet from the shower, pressed into your hardened nipple and he caressed it with the intention of seeing it move.  The small gesture forced you to inhale sharply, your mouth jutting open a little more.  

“Jayson,” you breathed out with your eyes searching for his, “I prefer it when you’re standing and I’m bent over.”  He covered your mouth with his own before he could smile, trying his best to hide it from you. 

He trapped you against the wall as you kissed, one hand still holding your breast while the other arm wrapped around your waist.  You barely processed the fact that your feet were no longer on the ground when you wrapped your arms around him as your lips smacked.  He hummed as he pulled you away from the wall, your legs coming around his waist.

“What’s your plan here, Tatum?” you asked between kisses, your giggles filling the steamy room.  “I don’t trust these floors.”  Your teeth grazed and you raked your hand through his curls, tugging ever so slightly.  

“Don’t worry,” he answered as he placed you back on the floor, your bodies still flushed together, “I got this all worked out.”  

Jayson gripped at your hips and turned you to face the wall.  Your hands reached out instinctively to give you more supported.  As much as you trusted his word, there were too many shower-sex horror stories playing in your mind.  You welcomed his strong arm around your waist, but instead of simply holding you, he slid his hand over the curve of your stomach and slipped it between your thighs.  You gasped, leaning back against him as he felt the mess he’d caused.  

He hummed in approval, “this all from kissing?”  he teased his index and middle finger through your slit, playing in your slick before he collected it on his fingers.  

“Sometimes all it takes is kissing,” you answered after swallowing hard.  

“Sometimes, huh?”

He lifted his fingers and put them in his mouth.  Quietly he clicked his tongue, “tell me,” he began as he tapped his fingers at your pout.  You opened your mouth and could partially hear him smirking, “have you ever tasted something so sweet?”

You let out a soft moan against his fingers as you sucked.  He purposely made it so you’d have to do more than just lick his fingers to taste yourself, he’d taken most for himself.  You kept sucking as he started to retract his fingers, anticipating his next move perfectly.  He pushed his fingers back in your mouth, again and again, marveling at the way you took them with no hesitation, no resistance.  

“Fuck,” he groaned as he pulled his fingers out completely, “you really are somethin’.”  

Jayson unwrapped his arm from your waist and pushed on the curve of your back.  Your ass poked out towards him more and your front leant forward.  You closed your eyes at the feeling of his large hands on your ass.  

“The prettiest fucking pussy,” his hand came down hard on your ass as he spoke, causing you to squeal.  “That’s all mine, ain’t it, beautiful?”

“All yours,” you breathed out as his thumbs pressed into your thighs.  “You don’t even have to ask.”  

His smile became evident as his lips skimmed over your hips.  He lingered for a second before leaving a light kiss over the trails that scattered your body.  He’d lowered himself to a crouch, you assumed as his teeth sunk playfully into the top of your ass. 

“I think my name would look nice here,” he slipped his arm around you as he spoke, his lips dragging kisses everywhere he saw fit.  “Some cursive or somethin’,” his fingers grazed over your vulva, your eyes closing in preparation, “then everyone will know.”

Jayson let her index and middle finger hover just below your clit.  He could feel the heat radiating and was fighting every urge he had to fall in.  

“You go first,” you answered as his other hand slipped between your thighs, gently rubbing your inner thighs, “I’m not committing to anything unless you’ve done it first.”  

He chuckled and dropped his fingers to circle your clit and entrance.  He was building the tension in your stomach with expertise.  He was giving you just enough to offer some relief.  The kisses and marks he left on your ass a welcomed sensation, but what he was doing between your thighs was bordering on irritating.  You wanted more from him, needed it.  You wanted to focus on what he was doing, concentrate on each stroke and circle he drew to give yourself more.

He kissed your ass again before he leant his head back and looked up at you.  The expression he was met with made him grin.  Your bottom lip was already swollen from biting and your eyes were squeezed closed as if you were concentrating.  Which you were, mostly on your breathing and the feeling of him between your thighs.  

“I’m committed baby,” he said with a shrug, his eyes scanning over your face.  He loved seeing you with your eyes squeezed shut and your bottom lip swollen from biting.  It did something to his voice, putting it somewhere between casual and serious. “I’d get your silhouette tatted tomorrow if I could.”

You made eye contact with him as he finished his sentence and smiled at the look on his face.  He was still being somewhat serious but the casual tone made it sound the opposite.  His face was contradicting, several signals being sent your way.  But instead of analysing, you just smiled. 

“Bet.”

Once the word had fallen from your mouth, his fingers came in contact with your clit and his second hand joined the motions.  A surprised moan caught you off guard and you quickly looked down, as if you were unsure of how he was teasing your entrance while playing with your clit.

“That’s-” you started before releasing another moan, “exactly what I need.”

Jayson had no intention of giving you any less than that.  He was maybe even more committed to that than he was to his life with you, especially with all you’d done for him.  

This vacation had had everything to do with him.  He needed a break from work, a week away from the real world, and some time to himself.  He’d felt little to no guilt about the world he’d stepped away from.  He felt he was still keeping his skills in check from the time he spent on the half court and working out most morning.  But he was beginning to realise just how little he’d done for you during this trip. 

You’d gone out of your way for him, running him baths, making him do self care in both yours and his ways, and had even given him a couple massages that left him sleepy and horny.  You’d spent all this time catering to him and making it so he had no choice to relax - he hadn’t given back half as much as he believed he should have been.  Sex is a two way street and he never failed to make you climax, but that didn’t mean the sex was equal.  He wanted to flip it, at least for the night, and give you a little more than he had been.  

Jayson’s thoughts were cut off as he felt you squirm under his touch.  He brought his eyes back to your pussy and pushed your back again, forcing you to arch and expose yourself more.  He smiled, already able to see how sticky and creamy he was making you.  He kept his index and middle fingers teasing your clit but freed his second hand so he could spread you out. 

He needed to taste you, aching for it with every inch of his being.  The feeling came in cycles, each time around more intense.  He had to have you, just like all those times before.  The second his taste buds pushed through your swollen lips, he knew this was where he belonged. 

Attentively, he worked his tongue against your sex, taking as much as he could and sucking in every last drop.  Your moans and words of praise egged him on, pushing himself deeper with every stroke.  When you tried to pull yourself forward, away from him for just a moment, he gripped your hips and pulled you back onto his face.  

“Fuck, Jay,” you panted out as you clasped your hand over his much larger one.  

The feeling in the pit of your stomach had built up much quicker than you had wanted it to.  The resistance of the push and pull was growing weak with every passing second.  Your knees felt weak and you could barely keep your eyes open.  All that your body could pay attention to was the heat between your thighs and the way Jayson had clearly mastered your body.  

You clenched every part of you with hopes of prolonging the experiences.  You loved the sensation of the rough pads on his fingers digging into your hips and were hypnotised by the hunger he had for you.  

“Oh fuck,” your voice much louder than you anticipated, “I’m gonn-”

Cut off by your own high pitched moan, you released on his face.  He fought cheek and tongue to gather every drop, not caring about the way your thighs were fighting to press together or the way your hands were trying to push him off.  He was so much stronger that all it did was make you weaker.  He didn’t care about the snap in your stomach or your heightened senses.  He wasn’t done until he’d cleaned up.

“Oh my God,” you laughed as he finally pulled back, “do you want me to fall?”

“You’re fine,” he laughed as he stood to his full height, “I would’ve caught you regardless.”

You turned to face him and braced your hands on his chest.  Your hesitation to speak was taken as an opportunity by Jayson to kiss you, his mouth covering yours.  You tasted sweet on his tongue, an ache planting your feet to the tiles.  You held tightly to his sides, bringing him closer to keep you up.

“Stop thinking about falling,” he mumbled through your kiss.  He snaked his arm around your waist again and you smiled, “just trust that I got you.”

You kissed him again, pulling his head down so it was easier.  He reacted to your pull, moving so you were completely covered by his body, skin-to-skin as your lips smacked together.  You trailed your hand down his chest and over the plane of his stomach.  Your mouth opened a little more to allow his tongue to slip in and brush against yours.  His hand cupped your jaw and angled your mouth up to his. 

Your hand quickly found the base of his harden cock, ever so slightly stroking it before picking it up.  Jayson audibly responded in a deep groan.  He didn’t move to stop you nor encourage you, he just kept his mouth on yours.  

You teased your way over his length, feeling the heat of his throbbing tip grow.  An throaty moan escaped him as you circled your thumb over the tip.  He pulled away from you, his forehead resting against yours as you both panted.  You hadn’t realised just how heavy the two of you had gotten until you were gasping for air.  

“Cmon baby,” he drew your attention up to his gaze, “don’t just tease me.”  His stare was intense, his eyes and voiced darkened as you continued to tease his dick, softly stroking and making sure to feel every inch of it.  

“Pass me the lube,” you said against his lips, your eyes meeting.  He nodded his head and turned away from you for a moment to grab the tube on the shower shelf.  You spat on your hand and wrapped it around his dick again, your spit making it more pleasurable.  

He’d opened the tube when he’d passed it to you and you were quick to squeeze some onto your hand.  Back on his cock, he let out another moan, his muscles tensing as he took a sharp inhale. 

“Turn around,” he urged, “I need to feel you.”

You did as you were told, sticking your ass out as your front met the tiled wall again.  Jayson licked his fingers and rubbed it on your entrance before wrapped his hand around his girth.  He tapped on your ass before sliding into your sex, both of you moaning in response. 

He wrapped himself around you, his arms pulling you into his chest and his hand cupping your face.  He was fully inside you, his tip kissing your sweet spot and pulsating inside you.  He didn’t move for what seemed like forever, his lips nipping at your neck while you both settled into the feeling around you.  Jayson liked being inside you, he liked the warmth and the silky feeling of your walls.  It was comforting, just as much as it was arousing and torturous.  

“Jay baby,” you croaked out, your head lulling back to rest on him, “move, please.  Fuck me, please.  I need you to fuck my shit up.”

He groaned in your ear and slowly moved his hips back.  When he pushed back into you, you let out a mix of a squeal and a moan.  The second time he drew back, he did it with a little more rhythm and didn’t fuck back into you the whole way.  Instead, he moved how he was holding you, with one of his hands dropping to between your thighs.  The other loosely wrapped around your throat and keep you close to him.  After that, he had no sense of control over himself.  All he could think about was chasing the release he so desperately wanted. 

Soon enough, the sounds of r&b were accompanied by yours and Jayson’s moans and groans and incoherent words and expletives.  He was deep within you, toying with your clit and dragging over your g-spot each time he pulled in and out of you.  You grabbed at his arms that were wrapped securely around you just so you could touch him, suddenly needing to feel even more of him as he fucked you. 

“Lemme see you,” you croaked out in between moans.  You were in no state to consider actions and it seemed Jayson just went off of instinct.  He scooped you up, his dick still buried in your pussy, and turned you around in his arms.  He slipped out for a few moments when you wrapped your legs around him but you reached between you and reconnected you.  

Holding you in a different position, Jayson started to let you fuck into him.  His strong arms moved your body against his pelvis while you messily kissed one another.  

“Just like that, fuck,” you exclaimed as he caught one tit in his mouth.  Your arms wrapped around his head and you started to let yourself go.  Your hands clawed at his back and your eyes squeezed shut as your pussy contracted around him.

“Look at me,” his voice ordered over the music, “look at me while you cum all over my fucking dick.”

You forced yourself to do as he said.  In the name of perfect timing, the second you made eye contact with him was the moment your release overtook you.  “Oh my God,” you gasped, your hand cupping his face, “I can feel you in my stomach.”

Unable to stop himself, Jayson pushed you down on top of his cock as he exploded inside you.  You watched as he tried his best to keep his eyes on you, his face scrunched up in pleasure and relief.  When his shoulders relaxed, you pulled yourself up a little and joined your lips to his.  

“Just for the record,” you began in between kisses, “this does not count as resting or relaxing.”

Jayson laughter filled the air and he raised his hand to get caught in your hair.  He kissed you deeply, lowering you to be on your feet again as he did so.  

“It’s a little like relaxing,” he said, cupping your face in his hands.  His thumb caressed your swollen bottom lip and he grinned, “I’m relaxed.”

Just as you were about to respond, the once hot stream of water turned ice cold.  You both yelped, rushing to get away from the freezing stream.  The floors being tiled and your legs both being rather weak made it so you both almost slipped, grabbing at the sheet of glass to steady yourselves and you erupted into laughter.  

“How the fuck did we run out of hot water?” Jayson exclaimed as he blindly reached into the shower to turn the mixer off.  The fog was growing thicker with the presence of cold air.  It was making everything feel a lot more difficult and dramatic than it needed to be.  

“We were a while,” you answered him, hands out feeling around for the towel rail, “why the fuck did you lower the lights, Tatum?”

Wrapped in robes and laughing about nothing in particular, you both feel into bed.  Jayson pulled you on top of him in a matter of moments and you rested your head on his chest, pulling the robe open.  You watched as his chest rose and fell and listened to his heart beat.  You scattered kisses over top of it before resting your chin on your hands and looking up at him. 

“So, about those tattoos…”

[kingeomer]

Come Live In My Heart

Geralt/Jasker / rated teen / 2,402 words / ao3.

i wrote this back in november i think? or december? idk. alongside @jaskierswolf as we were both pining over omegas nesting. they wrote omega!jaskier, i wrote omega!geralt. their take is here, should you wish to read it.

Geralt only ever went into heat during the winter time. Witcher mutations had suppressed most secondary gender characteristics, the need to mate being stripped away from a witcher alongside their fertility. The need to mate, however, had lingered, though the frequency of ruts and heats had diminished.

Geralt’s second round of trials had lessened his heats further, confusing his body into laying dormant. As a young witcher at Kaer Morhen, he’d experienced his heats more often, driven half mad with a need to procreate that would get him nowhere once or twice every few months. If he spent enough time with a strong alpha while on the path, the need would crop up on occasion, but human alphas weren’t usually strong enough, and besides. A witcher’s path was best travelled alone.

Over time and after the sacking of Kaer Morhen, his heats had all but disappeared, only resurfacing when surrounded by his family, hidden away in the warmth of the old keep. The first heat after the sacking had been horrendous, triggered as soon as he’d been greeted by what remained of his once large pack. Building a nest out of blankets, pillows, clothes that still smelled of his now dead friends had hurt, the pain almost too much to bear.

Being the last omega wolf had felt a curse those first few winters, but over time, he’d adjusted.

Over time, he’d found a companion on the road. He hadn’t wanted the young alpha anywhere near him, initially. The bard, Jaskier, he’d called himself, had reeked of alpha hormones, a strong, earthy smell to his slight form. He was young, no doubt driven by his knot, and he had too much energy.

And yet he wouldn’t leave Geralt alone. He followed him from town to town, wrote songs about him, would rent rooms for them to share at taverns and insist on helping Geralt bathe.

Over time, Jaskier started to smell like home.

Years of travelling together, of practically living in one another’s pockets for weeks and months at a time had formed something close to a bond between them. It had confused Jaskier to start with, which was when Geralt realised the bard had no idea he’d been travelling with an omega for months at a time.

That’d been a hard conversation, one that ended with Jaskier looking at Geralt sadly, eyes shining with emotions Geralt didn’t want to unpack. In the weeks after, Geralt kept finding odd scraps of Jaskier’s clothing in his pack. A scarf here, a pair of gloves there, a shirt stuffed deep down amidst Geralt’s bedding.

Neither of them spoke about it, but Geralt would sit a little closer to Jaskier by their campfire, or press close to his side in hole-in-the-wall taverns.

For years, the two of them had gone their separate ways for winter. Geralt didn’t fully understand why or how his bard had wound up becoming a professor at Oxenfurt, and it had been so long he didn’t dare ask.

This year, though, things felt different. With tensions rising across the Continent, Geralt didn’t want Jaskier travelling alone, he didn’t want him unprotected in a strange city, mountains and heavy snow separating his al— his fri— his companion from his protection. Geralt had stewed over the issue for weeks, but as leaves began to fall from the trees, he had to broach the subject.

“Come with me— this winter,” Geralt had said almost out of the blue, the two of them picking at roast rabbit as they sat by their campfire. Jaskier had paused, fingers halfway to his mouth to lick them clean, eyes like saucers and his tongue peeking out slightly. Geralt had to shake his head to knock the sudden woolly feeling from between his ears, feeling his cheeks heat in the closest thing to a blush his butchered body could manage.

“To Kaer Morhen, I— I’d like to know you’re safe,” Geralt finished, eyes drawn to the flames flickering in front of him, to the tree Roach was hitched to, anywhere but at Jaskier, who he could tell was beaming from ear to ear.

“Oh! Oh, I— Yes! Yes, that’d be wonderful!” Jaskier’s joy drew Geralt’s eyes to him, and Jaskier’s bright smile made Geralt’s own lips twitch upwards.

The journey up the mountain was hard even for Geralt, so for Jaskier it was an ordeal. Geralt had insisted he ride on Roach’s back until he couldn’t any longer, the trail too treacherous for the mare to manage so burdened. The two of them were almost frozen through by the time they arrived. The last stretch of the trail had been spent with chattering teeth and stumbling footsteps, the two of them huddled together as they waited at last for the heavy wooden doors to open.

Jaskier’s first night and day at the fabled Kaer Morhen were spent hidden under a mountain of blankets with Geralt, the two of them shaking from the cold in each other’s arms. Vesemir had eventually let himself into the room with a tray ladened with hot stew and mulled wine, the bags they’d dragged up the mountain pass over his shoulder.

“It’s good to see you, Pup.” Vesemir’s voice was warm as always, filled with deep affection and love for the omega. He set the bags down at the foot of the bed so he could hand over the bowls of stew, sparing a warm smile for Jaskier as the alpha shuffled around, leaning against the headboard with pink-tinted cheeks and sleepy eyes. “And it’s wonderful to finally meet the famous Jaskier!” He added with a teasing glint in his eye, glancing back over to Geralt who squirmed a little.

“You— I’m sorry, he talks about me?” Jaskier asked, voice incredulous and pulling a gentle laugh from Vesemir as he placed a mug of wine down on the bedside table.

“You’re practically his favourite subject, lad,” he teased further, pulling a groan out of the omega, bordering on a petulant whine. Vesemir simply laughed, turning away from the mound of blankets and heading for the door again.

“Your brothers arrived a few days ago, Geralt. It’d be nice to see you both at dinner.” His tone of voice left little room for disagreement, to which Geralt grunted his response around a mouthful of food. The two alphas in the room rolled their eyes fondly before sharing a brief look, some sort of understanding passing between them silently.

“We’ll be there, Vesemir. You have my word,” Jaskier insisted, the old witcher giving him a nod before he turned to leave.

That evening was filled with food and good company, and Geralt and Jaskier retired to bed sleepy and full, curled up under heavy blankets with smiles on their faces.

The next few weeks passed slowly and comfortably. Jaskier had never seen Geralt eat as much as he was at home, his hard body softening as he relaxed with his family, time spent lounging in armchairs, stuffing his face with rich foods. He smiled easier, too, and leaned into touches from the alphas surrounding him. Geralt would purr sometimes, a soft rumble coming from deep within his chest as he curled up close to Jaskier in the evening and read from an old book or listened to the alpha sing.

Geralt knew his heat was coming. It took a few weeks, usually, settling into his home and getting comfortable, surrounded by his pack where he would be safe and cared for attentively.

Watching Jaskier slot into his pack so easily was the trigger this time. Seeing him with his shirt sleeves rolled up and top buttons undone helping to chop wood and tend to animals, the beard growing contest he’d started with Eskel and Lambert, the easy way Vesemir had made space for a loud, messy human at their table… It made something in Geralt ache, deep inside.

He excused himself from the breakfast table one morning no different from every other that had passed and made a beeline straight for his bedroom.

First, he stoked the fire in the fireplace. Then he started digging through the dresser and the wardrobe on either side of it, pulling out old furs and pillows and spare blankets. Carrying an armful at a time, he dropped everything onto the mattress and regarded the pile, hands on his hips.

Time to work.

He started with the pillows, placing most of them around the headboard and making sure the ones he and Jaskier had been using were at the top where the scents would be stronger. He laid two large furs across the mattress, making the bed feel softer, warmer. More luxurious under his hands as he touched it, fingers curling in the fabric as he hummed contently.

He started adding extra blankets only to stop, frowning. It wasn’t enough. Wasn’t anywhere near good enough. Geralt stepped away from the bed, annoyed at himself. What else did he need? Glancing around the room, his eyes landed on his and Jaskier’s bags. Of course. He grabbed them both off the floor and tipped them onto the bed, and oh. Oh, everything was perfect.

He shook out one of Jaskier’s loose white shirts, fully intending to add it to the pile of blankets, but instead he stripped his own shirt off and put it on. It was a snug fit, but he was covered in Jaskier’s scent this way. The rest of the clothes he scattered around the bed, adding a knitted scarf and a jumper to the pillows. Geralt intended to put all the trinkets and odd bits and pieces back in the bags, but his hand paused as he picked up a quill.

He needed it. Geralt couldn’t explain why, but he had to find the perfect place for it. Same with a scrap of parchment from the bottom of Jaskier’s bag, no doubt a piece that’d torn off the roll while he’d been pulling things out. Or, oh. The comb Jaskier would use to untangle Geralt’s hair after washing it for him. Yes, they needed to be in the nest, too. He placed each item on the pillows for now. He’d find a better place once the nest was finished.

Geralt left the bedroom once he’d run out of suitable supplies and he went from bedroom to bedroom. Starting with Eskel, he took a blanket, two scarves, a ball of wool, and leather gloves. Next was Lambert, who had the softest pillows Geralt had ever laid his head on, and a warm fur lined jacket Geralt always eyed with envy. He slipped it on over Jaskier’s shirt and sighed, burying his nose in the lapel as he wrapped it tightly around himself.

Geralt saved Vesemir’s room for last, he always did. The old alpha spent all year here, so his belongings were always the best. The smell of old books, leather, and something like honey hit his nose as he opened the door, causing Geralt to shudder. He snatched the blanket from the bed as well as a pillow, a soft robe, a buckle that was to be fixed back onto his armour.

Heading back to his bedroom with his arms full to overflowing, Geralt felt incredibly pleased with himself. His nest was going to be perfect this year. Adding all the final pieces, Geralt was about to slip under the mass of furs and blankets when his eyes landed on something he hadn’t noticed earlier.

Jaskier’s rings. He’d taken them off at some point so he wouldn’t lose any, left them on the bedside table alongside his latest compositions and quill and ink. Geralt ran his tongue over his lip before he grabbed the handful of rings up. He knew they wouldn’t fit on his own fingers, Jaskier’s far slimmer than his own, but...

He took his amulet off and threaded each ring onto the chain, an overwhelmingly warm feeling sweeping through him as Jaskier’s signet ring sat against his wolf medallion. Putting the chain back over his head, he held them to his chest, heart beating wildly beneath.

It was almost time, he thought. Finally crawling into his perfect nest, Geralt sank into the pillows, inhaling the rich scents of home.

Geralt awoke later feeling warm all over, an uncomfortable itch deep inside that he knew he couldn’t scratch. His heat had begun like it always did, a slow, simmering thing that would take days to overwhelm him.

His attempt to roll onto his side and breathe in the smell of his alphas was thwarted by a heavy weight on top of him, causing Geralt to open his eyes at last.

The bed around him was full; Eskel on his left with one large arm pinning him down, Vesemir to his right simply present. Lambert was further down the bed, his red curls fanned out over Geralt’s thigh. So that meant… Bright blue eyes peered down at him, framed by long dark lashes. Jaskier smiled, his lips standing out full and red among his dark beard, hair falling into his eyes.

Gods, what a sight he was.

“Your nest is perfect, darling,” Jaskier told him, leaning in to nuzzle at Geralt’s neck softly, spreading his scent carefully across the witcher’s body as he combed a hand carefully through long white hair. Geralt’s breath stuttered in his chest as Jaskier ghosted over his throat, his lips so close to where Geralt longed for a bite.

“Not now, Geralt. Not… Not when you’re this close,” Jaskier looked up at him then, his eyes saying so much more than words could. Geralt touched Jaskier then, a broad hand sliding up under his shirt to feel warm skin. The touch was enough to make Geralt shudder, needing the skin to skin contact so much he ached.

“I— I’m happy you’re here, Jaskier. I need you,” Geralt spoke softly, his words half a purr of contentment as Jaskier smiled down at him. The alpha leaned in to kiss him softly, the barest brush of lips, but it was enough to make Geralt dizzy, his fingers curling into Jaskier’s chest hair as his toes curled into the blankets beneath him.

It’d take a few days for his heat to peak, the others would drift off and leave before then, should Geralt tell them he wished to see it through with Jaskier. And then they’d have all winter to work out what to do next.

[angelsarewatching]

comment for the fic lapsus by @lisbetadair in a tumblr post because ao3 doesn't allow photos

(this is a queued post)

and it is in these unholy hours of night where the true nature of a fanfic reader can be seen.

strings of words (not always necessarily sentences) that made me scream violently without sound and it seemed like i was choking on air:

stranger: a pale man, with shaggy ginger hair

Ghost held his arm with surprising gentleness, his large hands deft for a man so capably violent

had to reread that twice (reading in complete darkness except the brightness of my laptop being 1 out of 10) unique combination of chosen words which are Very good yes but not quite good when you're barely awake and it's. you know

adequately lubricated with alcohol

dear god am i dreaming?

MacTavish felt a soft plume of warm breath on the skin of his arm as Ghost exhaled,

(selfie i took in the darkness when i read that)

“What’s red and bad for your teeth?”

mactavish's lips upon yours you dumbass ginger!!!!

MacTavish fully appreciated his colossal mass as it loomed over him

he's really not even trying to be discreet while checking him out......at this point bring a ruler to measure his girth you lump of fuck

before MacTavish could answer, he was leaning over him. He tried to avert his eyes,

*AGGRESSIVELY JABS MY FINGER AT THE SCREEN AT DISTRESSED/HALF ASLEEP WIFE* (half yell and half whisper) "YOU HAVE TO SEE THIS YOU HAVE TO SEE THIS YOU HAVE TO SEE THIS"

she saw it, said "go to bed" and then fell asleep again immediately after i let her go.

In the silence, MacTavish could hear the soft rush of air as Ghost breathed,

had i been hooked up to a heartbeat monitor it would've crashed immediately

feel the gentle movement of air on the exposed skin of his naked chest.

my piano music suddenly went up to a rift and did the thing where it would escalate to a higher tone and end sweetly at that. the song in question was stay by chad lawson, it starts around 2:57 (the universe knows me. it is accustomed to my clusterfuck)

The sudden, unexpected intimacy made his stomach clench.

at this point the world has stopped and time is non existent it's me alone and this fic. ive been pulled into a universe where it is so real and vivid to me it's not even imagining at this point im experiencing something in the eyes of another and holy fuck did i just ascend my awareness of reality and do another immaculate conception just because of lapsus?

“What’s that smell?”

i prepare myself to wince. it's blood isn't it. or gasoline. or they didn't shower (i want to hose them with a firefighter hose)

“You what?”

MacTavish sniffed again, more certain. “Like flowers.” He sniffed harder. “Perfume.” He raised his head, fighting the pressure against his forehead to get a better breath. “Is that.. you ?”

MACTAVISH YOUR FLIRTING SKILLS ARE SO LOW A TODDLER COULD JUMP OVER IT (BUT IF IT'S WORKING I GUESS IT WORKS/???)

He realised in that instant that he was staring, that without realising it his gaze had fallen to follow his nose and he was looking directly at Ghost’s exposed face.

Ghost stared back at him, his face frozen in a sudden, wide-eye, confused expression that seemed strangely comical to MacTavish’s eyes.

PIECE OF FUCKING SHIT DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE I HATE YOU SO MUCH (is crying because HOW DO YOU FUCK UP DATING SO BAD YOU FUCK)

okay i like the description for ghost it's very good i want to sink my teeth into it. it's very delicious looking

As the silence thickened between them, the innocence of the confused frown darkening like a storm, MacTavish realised that he shouldn’t have spoken, that in his exhausted, anaemic state he’d transgressed the unwritten rules that governed the tolerance of the various weird eccentricities amongst brothers in arm, and most of all, the weird eccentricities of more senior officers who could return him to unit at the stroke of a pen if they merely disliked the way he drank his tea.

always love how lisbet portrays the fine, not-visible-to-the-eye lines of intimacy and romantic relationships (especially queer ones) in the military yes this is a common trademark (a motif?) which is present in her fanfic works. yes. this is all very Nice i like it i wish to drag the two together and smosh their faces in each other

sentences that make you go "stop trying to pretend you're heterosexual ghost im gonna detain you" (anyways i like this banter because i do like it when queer men have toxic/twitter approved masculinity and norms surrounding heterosexual culture it's funny because they fuck each-)

Going to have a nice scar to impress all the ladies with when we get back.

okay after i read the entire flower thing. the perfume thing. riley you are fighting your internalized homophobia and the rampant heterosexual culture depicted in cheating/breakup teledramas and movies which is present in the SAS regiment. you are written so well i want to slice your head open and inspect your brain because whatever's in there got diced in a blender but somehow still works. you are trying so hard not to differentiate yourself, be "gay" and stray from the aspects of which is not the norm in the military where queer people are heavily persecuted. ok. ok. i know this is probably wrong and im just going bananas here but

“Face wipes, the ones for taking off makeup. Gets rid of the war paint in a hurry.”

ok nevermind he's just a weird cishet dudebro. i take back all what i said. now go to the corner and rainbow yourself david stirling would not be proud of you

chapter 2 is also in queue because i don't post here often and i need to feel reassured that my new followers see my shitposts and unfollow me

[rebelwrites]

Your Love Is My Drug

Clay Spenser x Reader

Join The Group Chat Here - If You Want Tagging Manually Let Me Know 🖤

Clay Spenser Masterlist

This Months Writing

“Where is Y/N? I've not seen her around tonight?” Ray asked Clay as he brought a fresh round of beers over.

“She’s out with her best friend, something about a much needed catch up” Clay laughed checking his phone to see the fifth drunk selfie came through making him smile. “They are on their way here now, just a warning she is drunk judging by her texts so let’s not feed her any more alcohol”

“Let the girl live a little” Sonny smirked knowing full well he wasn’t going to listen to Clay.

“You don’t have to deal with her hungover ass tomorrow” Clay said pointing the beer bottle at Sonny “I do, and trust me she’s hard work but it’s good job she’s cute”

As Clay brought the bottle to his lips the doors to the pub slammed opened followed by fits of giggles that made his heart skip a beat, looking over he saw you on the floor, heels in hand, laughing to the point you were crying. Making his way through the crowd he made his way to you, wrapping his arms around your waist pulling you to your feet.

“Sorry Clay, she just kept knocking the shots back” Lexi laughed.

“It’s fine Lex, it’s not your fault” Clay smiled as he made sure you were steady on your feet. “She’s had a long week at work so knew she’d end up drunk”

“You got her?” She asked.

“Yeah you go enjoy the rest of the night” Clay laughed.

“Clay hiiiiiii” you slurred placing your hand on his cheek.

“Hi babygirl” he smirked “how much have you had to drink tonight?”

“Only a ikkle bit” you whispered, holding your thumb and index finger slightly apart. “Am not drunk”

“You sure about that” he whispered, kissing you softly.

“Urm Nope” you giggled as you wiggled out his arms and stumbled over to the boys. The moment you were at the table you placed your heels in the center before working out which drink was Clay’s with a puzzled look on your face.

“He finished his darling” Sonny smirked, picking up a bottle and passing it to you. “But you good friend Sonny got you, your own”

“Thanks” you grinned, taking the beer off him, bringing the bottle to your lips, pretty much downing the whole bottle within minutes until Clay took the bottle off you. “Hey I wasn’t finished” you huffed as he sat down pulling you into his knees, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“No more baby” he whispered making you pout, “I’m just thinking of the hangover you will have tomorrow, you need to sober up a bit”

“You’re no fun” you said trying to fake cry but it wasn’t happening. “Clay Spenser the buzz kill”

“You will thank me in the morning” he laughed, kissing the top of your head. Before taking his cap off, giving it you to wear. “So just soft drinks for you now”

“Clay was right” Jase laughed “you are like an excited little puppy when drunk”

“A big fluffy golden retriever” you grinned before turning to Clay “no you’re the golden retriever” you giggled tapping his nose. “A big blonde golden retriever”

“Yeah definitely now more alcohol for you babygirl” Clay laughed at the annoyed face you were pulling, you thought you looked intimidating but to him you just looked cute.

A couple of hours had passed and you weren’t sobering up, thanks to Sonny. It looked like you were just drinking lemonade when in reality it was a double vodka and lemonade. It was always the same when you went out drinking, you’d always end up back here with your boys. But this was the first time you had been completely shitfaced and Clay decided to cut your alcohol off warning the boys not to give you any more but Sonny never listened.

You were all now around the pool table, Clay and Ray were playing whilst the rest of you hung around the table. Jason currently had his arm around your waist keeping you up right as there were no chairs. Leaning back against him you watched Clay, it was like the whole room disappeared when you looked at him, no one else mattered.

Feeling your heart skip a beat as he started laughing at something you realised just how in love with him your were, he was the one, the one you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.

“Maybe I need some rehab, or maybe just need some sleep. I got a sick obsession. I'm seeing it in my dreams” you started to sing, there was no music just your drunk voice.

“Okay who’s been giving my girl alcohol” Clay laughed looking around the room. He knew you only randomly start singing without music at a certain level of drunk. Placing the pool cue down he took your drink out of your hands taking a sip before shaking his head at you laughing before looking at his best friend. “Sonny”

“Hey you try saying no to her when she gives you the puppy dog eyes” Sonny laughed.

“Yeah it’s game over when she gives you them eyes” Clay smirked, kissing the top of your head, taking the drink off you. “No more babygirl okay, I do not need you throwing up on the way home”

“I'm looking down every alley, I'm makin' those desperate calls, I'm staying up all night hoping. Hittin' my head against the wall. What you got, boy, is hard to find, I think about it all the time, I'm all strung out, my heart is fried, I just can't get you off my mind” you sang loudly as you wiggled out of Jase’s grasp to go to Clay, but you couldn’t really walk in a straight line at this point so stumbled, nearly face planting the floor of it wasn’t for Clay catching you. Wrapping your arms around his neck you had a massive grin on your face as you got lost in his blue eyes as you carried on the song. “Because your love, your love, your love is my drug. Your love, your love, your love. I said your love, your love, your love is my drug. Your love, your love, your love. Won't listen to any advice. Momma's telling me I should think twice. Better left to my own devices. I'm addicted, it's a crisis”

As much as Clay tried to be mad at his best friend letting you drink more he couldn’t stay mad for long, one look in your eyes and he was grinning like an idiot, his hands were planted on your hips as you ran your fingers across his skin.

“My friends think I've gone crazy. My judgment is getting kinda hazy. My steeze is gonna be affected. If I keep it up like a lovesick crackhead” you giggled running your hands down his solid chest, not breaking eye contact. You paused for a moment, biting your bottom lip as you tried to remember the lyrics of the song but your mind was in a drunken haze. “Oh fuck I forgot the song”

“Thank god you are making my ears bleed” Lexi laughed making you give her the middle finger.

“Wait i've got this” you slurred as you hummed the song trying to remember where you got to, but little did you know Ray was filming the whole thing ready to tease you with come the morning. “I don't care what people say. The rush is worth the price I pay, I get so high when you're with me. But crash and crave you when you leave” you giggled as your hands still roamed Clay’s upper body.

Clay knew you couldn’t remember the whole song, but he didn’t care because he knew that even with you being so drunk that you meant every word you sung badly. Moving his hands to your waist he smirked leaning your back slightly as you moved one arm around his neck and the other on his cheek as he took a step, causing him to be closer to you but still making sure you were still standing before his lips connected with yours, the kiss was full of love and passion, and made your head spin even more. One kiss left your body tingling, your heart was racing all because of one man.

Pulling away from the kiss you stared into his eyes with a massive grin on your face.

“I love you Babygirl” Clay grinned.

“I love you too” you giggled as you started stroking his beard. “Hey I like your beard”

The whole group erupted into laughter as Clay guided you to a small round table Sonny had found, in one movement Clay picked you up making you squeal before he placed you down on the table. “One more game baby then we are going home”

“Okay” you nodded as you learn back against the wall.

After about 10 minutes Ray nudged Clay making him look over in your direction to find you were now asleep resting your head against the wall.

“Well I guess that’s us out” He smiled hugging his brothers and Lexi. Carefully he wrapped his arms around you picking you up bridal style he knew that you had a hard week at work so he purposely only had a few beers and was still good to drive. The slight movement disturbed you as Clay adjusted his grip to make sure he didn’t drop you.

“Hey” you mumbled in a half asleep drunken state.

“Babygirl go back to sleep” Clay whispered looking down at you with love in his eyes. “I’ve got you”

@chibsytelford @mrsmarvelous1995 @supervalcsi @talicat713 @disasterfandoms @bravo-four-seal-team @jasonbabymama @jayhalsteadfan-2417 @lotsoflovefromlea @seik-o @ohitsnicolexo @velvetcardiganbucky @phoenixhalliwell @pancakeisreading @itsonautopilot

[julemmaes]

honeybee

this is a following to my modern au nessian called drivers license (part one)

A/N: YOU REMEMBER WHEN I TOLD YOU I WASN'T SURE I WOULD'VE FINISHED DRIVERS LICENSE? CAUSE IT WAS LONG AND IT WAS TAKING A TOLL ON ME. WELL, FUCK ME. I DIDN'T KNOW REAL PAIN UNTIL I HAD TO FINISH THIS

the song this fic takes its name from is called honeybee and it's by the head and the heart

warnings: abusive household, description of violence, hospitalization

have fun I guess;)

Word count: 9,246

the day

When Nesta had broken up with Cassian in the middle of the night all those years ago, she had never imagined that her life would change so much.

Looking at the sparkling ring around her finger, with that delicate tiny diamond set in the equally fine and elegant silver band, she couldn't help but think that she had made the right choice when he had gotten up and decided to leave.

She had never regretted that call and she certainly wasn't starting to on her wedding day.

five years, three months and eighteen days before

Nesta had mentally prepared herself to see him once the door opened. She had prepared herself to see his dark hair tied back in a tousled bun and his thick eyelashes framing his equally dark eyes, still they would sparkle upon seeing her - as they had done every time since the day he had found her on that library's floor.

What she hadn't expected to find on his doorstep though, was the girl with blonde hair and long slender legs bare of any clothing and her torso covered by a t-shirt that Nesta recognised as one of Cassian's. A shirt she had worn several times over the months they had been together.

He looked into her face and it was hard not to notice the imprint left by the pillow on her cheek, her tired eyes still heavy with sleep. She had been sleeping.

Nesta glanced towards the living room, completely visible from where she was standing, and any hope she'd had at that moment that Mor was sleeping on the sofa vanished into thin air like smoke when she saw no pillows on the cushions. No blanket.

She looked back at Mor, who was now staring at her with a dumbfounded expression, as if she didn't believe she was standing there in front of Cassian's house. If she wasn't sleeping on the couch, it only meant she was sleeping in his bed.

He didn't have guest rooms, she knew that.

She was sleeping in his bed.

Her ears began to buzz and Nesta's vision fogged as she tried not to scream.

She had known.

Pursuing her lips into a thin line, she lifted her chin upwards a little, daring the girl in front of her to say something, and then turned, starting to walk towards her car, poised never to return.

She could feel her heart beating in her chest like a war drum and every step she took felt like her legs gave out a little more.

She was tired. She hadn't been able to sleep for weeks. To eat, study, read.

Nesta had died again under the unrelenting weight of the loneliness that had found peace the moment Cassian had set foot in her life and that had swept through her existence like a hurricane, turning upside down everything beautiful she had managed to find.

She felt the sting of emotion build in her throat, the ever-growing knot of tears that couldn't wait to be released, that Nesta knew would explode as soon as she stepped into the car and his house was out of sight.

She was sleeping in his bed.

She had just tightened her fingers around the keys when she heard it, Morrigan's ringing voice, calling her, and then her hurried footsteps behind her. Nesta turned.

"You're making a mistake."

Her eyebrows shot up, "Sorry?"

Mor seemed to flinch at the tone of her voice, "You're making a mistake." Nesta had to laugh and didn't hold back the stunned chuckle that escaped her control as the blonde continued, "You shouldn't leave."

She seethed, "You're wearing his clothes." she pointed out, taking a step forward and then another, forcing the other to walk backwards. She looked into her eyes, frowning, "You were sleeping in his bed only a few minutes ago," her words spoken in a whisper, but the poisonous emotion and hatred that laced the words conveyed everything Nesta was feeling, "why would I stay?"

Mor remained silent, studying her face, "Cass should be here any minute."

The way she said his name. Cass, like she had some kind of dominion over his person. Like she was the only one who knew him.

Nesta couldn't stop the words before they were out, "Why?"

And this time she wasn't asking her why she should stay, wait for him to come back. No.

She took another step forward, "Why did you let him lie to me? Why did youlie to me?"

The dull, dormant pain she'd felt that month woke up like a child pulled from sleep by a nightmare and hit her full in the chest. That emptiness that should have been filled with anger, jealousy, betrayal.

"Why not ask him to leave me? Why steal someone else's boyfriend?"

And at those words, she recoiled, because it wasn't true. Morrigan had never stolen Cassian from her.

Cassian had never been hers in the first place.

The girl opened her mouth to reply, but Nesta didn't give her time to speak and raised a hand, continuing, "Cause I ask myself that every night. I wonder what he sees in you," she laughed, letting out a choked breath as her eyes filled with tears, "What else do you have? You're older, it's true. You're prettier, blonder, taller. Perfect." she spat that word out in disgust.

"And you know what? I knew it. God, I knew it and I was pretending not to. The way his gaze would occasionally wander when we were talking or the mornings when he'd arrive at school in his clothes from the day before because he'd been to your place and hadn't slept." she clenched her hands into fists and smiled mischievously when she saw Mor swallow.

She was about to attack, to bite, to strike wherever she could to regain the dignity that had been stripped from her, but a deep, surprised voice interrupted her, "Nesta?"

She stiffened, turning around slowly. She didn't want to say anything, she just wanted to run to her car, get on and drive away, but what was in front of her knocked the breath out of her.

Nothing. There was nothing of the man she had loved in front of her now. The ghost of what Cassian had been no more than forty days before.

His eyes were slightly wide and that excited glint Nesta had hoped to see when he opened the door was just a miserable memory, because the hazel brown she loved so much was gone, covered by an opaque veil of sadness and pain she saw every day in the mirror.

Her gaze fell on the slightly hollowed cheeks and deep dark circles under his eyes, the messy, grimy hair, the dirty clothes that looked like they hadn't been changed in days, and finally to the cast around his left arm.

"What happened to you?" she asked in a weak voice.

He sighed and his eyebrows drew together. His shoulders visibly sagged and then the bag he held in his right hand fell to the ground as he took a step forward, "Nesta." he breathed.

She looked into his eyes, "What did you do?"

He gave a half-smile, bringing his free hand to his broken arm, "I-" then chuckled, "You're here."

"Cassian." Mor's voice made them both turn, but Nesta's eyes quickly went back to the man.

She needed to know if he was going to enter the house with her or listen to her, should she speak.

It was as if he hadn't even heard the blonde. "How are you?" he asked her, taking a step towards her.

Nesta couldn't connect her brain to her mouth, she was like a broken record when she asked, "What happened to you?" because Cassian wasn't well. And she wasn't talking about the broken arm or the dirty clothes, she was talking about the light that she saw was going out even now with every passing second.

She couldn't move, but she wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him until he came to his senses.

"Nothing," he said with that stupid weak smile on his lips, "you came here- do you want to talk? Can we talk?"

She heard Mor inhale sharply and then saw her walk around her until she was in front of him, and although they were close, Nesta couldn't hear what she said. She felt her heart break a little more and wondered how it was possible that it wasn't already sand in her chest. All she knew was that Cassian stiffened and swallowed twice when Morrigan finished talking to him.

"I should go." she managed to whisper, torturing her fingers.

He shook his head, taking a step forward and the blonde's hand snapped on his arm. Both their eyes fell on that touch and Nesta couldn't take it anymore, she had to go. The grip of her lacquered nails around his jacket was overbearing, possessive, but it was also familiar to his body and he wasn't retreating.

She took a step back, intending to run away and never return, and lost her balance, stumbling on the grass of the flowerbed. She opened her eyes wide and saw the way Cassian lunged forward to catch her, but Nesta was already on the ground. She cursed under her breath and the urge to cry only increased when she realised she had fallen onto a yellow rose bush.

Nesta burst out laughing at the irony of the picture they were composing at that moment.

"Nes, are you alright?"

If it hadn't been for Elain explaining to her the meaning of flowers every spare minute of her days, she would never have laughed, but the fact that she was now removing the thorns of a plant that represented jealousy and betrayal while standing in front of the man she loved and the girl who had managed to take him away from her was comical.

She stood up perhaps a bit too quickly as her head spun wildly and a myriad of black dots blurred her vision. She staggered a little and it didn't escape Cassian's attention as he moved even closer and wrapped his hand around her wrist. Nesta held her breath at the touch of his skin, so warm, so rough.

He was looking at her with a wrinkled expression and she just wanted the ground to swallow her whole when he asked, "Have you eaten today?"

She looked at him in amazement for a second, breathing out a laugh and then turned her head to the side, biting her lip. Because of course he was going to find out. That Nesta was no longer living.

After all, this Nesta, the Nesta who was now staggering around like a desperate drunk in his front yard, was the same Nesta he had met on that library floor.

She snatched her hand from his grasp and without looking at him walked towards the car, "Goodbye Cassian."

"Nesta, what- where are you going?" he asked her, following her, his hands raised as if he could grab her, keep her with him once he reached her.

She turned her head and caught him by surprise as he jerked back when she pointed a finger at him, too close. "I'm leaving and I have no intention of coming back. Don't follow me. I was wrong to come here in the first place."

The shock on his face was like receiving a punch in the gut. He lowered his arms, defeated.

"Why are you here?" he said softly. And it was as if he wasn't really asking the question. It was as if his mouth had finally decided to speak the words that had been rumbling around in his head until that moment.

Nesta shook her head and a weak sob broke her breath, "I can't."

Cassian stood there as she made her way to her car and when she finally touched the door and opened it, feeling the relief of freedom, he met her gaze from over the roof. She met Mor's gaze and felt the world crash down on her again. Heavier. More imposing.

Cassian took a step forward, "Why are you here?"

And Nesta exploded, "Cause I still fucking love you."

Her voice broke on the last word and she didn't even notice as tears began to stream down her face, "Because I still love you!" she screamed, slamming the door and spinning around the car, "Because I love you and I don't have-" a sob broke the sentence, "And I'm not okay! But you seem to be doing just fine without me!" she squealed even louder, bringing a hand to her chest. "I'm hurting! I'm hurting and I'm alone! And I miss you!"

She couldn't see it, but his eyes were glazed over too, and as he slowly approached her, a lone tear slid down his cheek.

"Fuck!" she cursed, turning around again and opening the door. She took a deep breath amidst the crying and looked at him, really looked at him, trying to memorize every detail, "Goodbye."

He shook his head, "No."

And Nesta waited no longer, got into the car and drove away.

five years, three months and seventeen days before

Nesta

"How did you find my house?" asked Nesta, clutching her sweatshirt to her chest.

Mor, in all her beauty and poise, stood at the door of her house, with her own clothes on this time.

"Hi Nesta." she said, biting her lip. Not out of embarrassment, to keep herself from saying anything else.

She didn't move, "How did you find my house?"

"I'd like to talk to you," she continued, still ignoring her question.

"It's hard to talk to a person if you keep ignoring what they say."

The blonde closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, "I know where you work, I followed you here."

Nesta's eyebrows shot up, "I could report you for stalking."

Mor gave a tight smile, "But you won't. Can we talk?"

Nesta felt the sudden urge to call the police, just to show her that she could, but she only said, "Why would we?"

"Because yesterday after you left, Cass tried to get in the car and follow you and he can't drive," Nesta found herself nodding thinking about his broken arm, weakened from the sleepless night, surely not because she wanted Mor to know she agreed with her. "I had to pull him out of the car by force to keep him from killing himself against a pole. I've never seen him so shaken up in my life and-"

Nesta interrupted her, "I don't know why you think it's my problem. You're his girlfriend now, the fact that you're coming to me for advice is concerning." then she stepped back, clasping her hand around the door to slam it in her face.

The audacity...

"Cassian still loves you."

She froze, holding her breath and looked Mor in the eye. She chuckled softly, shaking her head, "No, he doesn't."

The blonde huffed, bringing a hand to her forehead and moving a strand of hair, "I'm not his girlfriend anyway."

Nesta smiled sarcastically, "That too, the fact that you can't define your relationship, isn't my problem and I'd rather you leave."

Mor laughed in shock as her eyebrows shot up, "You're unbelievable," then she frowned, taking a step forward to push the door open, "Cassian and I aren't together. We never have been and I'm fucking lesbian."

Nesta's eyes widened in surprise, then she quickly recovered from her astonishment and shook her head, "It doesn't change anything."

"Doesn't it?"

"No, Morrigan," it was the first time she'd said her full name. That she was saying it directly to her, "It doesn't change anything because he would still leave in the middle of the night to come to you," she shifted her weight on her left foot, "It doesn't change anything because he chose you every day and I'm sorry I didn't realize that sooner. It would have saved everyone a lot more time and effort." then she held up a hand when she opened her mouth to retort, "And I don't care if you're lesbian or not. Cassian loves you and if he doesn't love you with words, he certainly does with actions."

Mor stared into her eyes for a while, silently, then nodded slowly, shifting her gaze to the houses around hers. She adjusted her sunglasses in her hair and then looked back at her, "Can I come in?"

"Why."

"Please, I just want to explain why what happened happened. And why things have changed or are changing, but I can't do that in half a minute and-" then she frowned, wincing, "Look, I'm not doing this because I particularly like you, but because Cassian has saved my life more times than he thinks and than he takes credit for. Talking to you is the least I can do to repay him in some way."

Nesta felt something tug at her heart and for a moment she thought about slamming the door in her face and going back to the couch to watch a black screen, but then she remembered the sleepless nights she'd spent thinking about what she could do. For her, for Cassian... to the person in front of her who was begging her to let her in, and she stepped aside.

The surprise on Mor's face was a small victory on Nesta's part, but she quickly recomposed herself, closing the door behind her once she was in the house and telling her to follow her into the living room.

And despite the situation, Mama Archeron had not raised her daughters to treat guests badly. She forced herself to say, "Can I get you anything? A drink, maybe water, I have wine if you want."

Mor gave the imitation of a smile, "I'd take something stronger, but I have to drive. Just water will do, thanks."

Nesta walked out of the living room and into the kitchen, and once inside she leaned against the table with both hands, breathing hard as if she had run a marathon. What was she doing?

She had let Morrigan, the reason for her break-up with the man she loved, into her house.

She closed her eyes, clenching her jaw, begging her body to relax, and then, when she realised it wouldn't take anyone that long to pick up two glasses and a bottle, she moved.

Walking back to the living room was like walking a thousand miles without ever eating, sleeping or drinking and by the time she sat down, she was exhausted. That conversation could have settled everything as well as confirmed any worries and erased any doubts Nesta had about leaving that city forever.

Mor drank a whole glass of water before she started talking and it didn't take long for her to realise that the girl was just as nervous as she was. The agitation evident only in the twirling motion of her ankle as she sat with her legs crossed.

She took a deep breath, "I've never talked about this with anyone but the boys." Nesta realized he was talking about Azriel and Rhysand, as well as Cassian. "So understand if I stop now and then, these aren't things I tell lightly."

She could only nod.

Mor cracked her fingers, then took a deep breath and brought one hand up to massage her right eyebrow, where Nesta had always noticed the small white scar that kept hair from growing there. It was the only thing that people could tell wasn't beautiful about the girl, but Nesta had never believed anything other than that it only added to her curiosity in getting to know the deity she actually was.

Every positive thought she'd ever had about that tiny scar disappeared as Mor began to speak and a horrible feeling clutched her stomach in an iron solid grip.

"My father is an alcoholic."

Nesta didn't react. She didn't know if she should say anything.

"He always has been. Even before I was born. I don't know how my mother ended up in a relationship with him, but she's a lost cause too. She started using drugs when I was around six. I still remember it like it was yesterday.

"Keir, my father, has also always been a violent man." Mor took a shaky breath, swallowing, "He did this to me," she whispered brushing the mark on her face, "when I was fourteen and got my period for the first time. He broke a bottle on my head-"

The fact she’d gotten her cycle so late only sprouted more doubts in Nesta’s mind while her thoughts ran wild, picturing a malnourished little girl in that broken home.

"You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to," Nesta interrupted her, looking her in the eye, "I know you're trying to help me understand, that you're trying to help Cassian, but-"

Mor put a hand on her arm, blocking her, "Don't worry about it." she gave her a weak, sad smile, "I know I said I didn't like you, but Cassian loves you." seeing that Nesta was about to interrupt her one more time, she tightened her grip on her arm, "He loves you. And if this conversation ends the way I want it to, you'll be around for a long time to come. So you'd better be aware of everything, don't you think?"

There was something in Mor's voice that Nesta couldn't identify. She remained silent, contemplating her words, but then nodded weakly.

"There have been so many other episodes and I still bear the marks of most." she lowered her voice, clenching her fists several times. "If I'm here to tell you about them now though, it's only because of Cassian."

Nesta braced herself for what was to come.

Mor bit the inside of her cheek, "All the times he came to me in the night, all the times he left you alone at the last minute or had to come away in the middle of your dates... he was coming to save me." she said with teary eyes, "For years, they took turns as to who should come each time, between him and Rhys and Az. But when the other two had to leave a couple of years ago and only Cass stayed here, well," she sighed, propping an elbow on her knee and resting her forehead on her hand, "I feel guilty every day for what they do, what he does. I don't know how I'm ever going to repay him for everything he's managed to save in my life. My life itself. So I need you to understand that it's not his fault."

She looked into her eyes and Nesta was so shocked by everything she had just been told that she couldn't respond.

"The night you broke up with him," she resumed after a few moments, bringing a hand up to the neck of her jumper and shifting the fabric, revealing a portion of jagged skin just below her collarbone. The only evidence of just how bad the cut she had suffered must have been. "-I was going to die. Literally. I called the police so many times, Nesta, they never did anything. I didn't even try that night."

A rush of anger raced through her body at that truth. She knew she wasn't lying.

"My dad found out I liked girls, somehow, and things escalated quickly. My mom was half passed out on the couch and he had just come home," she paused abruptly, frowning. "The boys came into the house after I managed to lock myself in my room and while Az and Rhys were thinking about me, Cassian tried to take Kier down, that's why the broken arm."

Nesta's eyes went wide. For it to come to breaking a bone... it must have been a long night for everyone, frightening and scarring. She looked up at Mor, placing one hand on the one still on Nesta's arm and smiled reassuringly at her, but with a serious expression.

Mor returned the squeeze.

"I'm staying at Cassian's now, at least until the others find proper accommodation. We're all looking for a flat together so Cass can finally be free of us all." she said, fixing her eyes in hers, "From me. From everything."

Nesta nodded, then cleared her throat, finding her throat dry, "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Why didn't you tell me this before?" Why didn’t he, were the unspoken words.

Mor bit her lip, "It's my fault," she said apologetically, "I've been dealing with the opinion and criticism of the rest of the world my whole life. I didn't know you and all the guys' exes were always very quick to judge me without knowing anything at all about me. By the time I realised you weren't like the others it was too late."

"You can flip me off if this question is too personal, but why didn't you move out sooner? Why stay in that house if..." she didn't know how to finish the sentence, but it was enough to make the other answer.

"They controlled all my money and I was in no position to ask for financial support from the boys. I couldn't find anyone willing to help me get back what was mine by right, but we're looking for a way now. Az just got a job at a law firm, he just needs to convince them to take the case on probono." she smiled tensely and Nesta could tell that even that small act of generosity from her friend was weighing heavily on her.

Nesta ran her hands over her face, taking a deep breath as each piece fell into place and each question mark disappeared. Now that she knew the truth, it all made more sense.

But did that change things between her and Cassian? Did it change the fact that he had lied to her, despite for good reason?

She didn't have an answer.

But she did understand Mor. She understood why she had asked him not to tell her anything. It was the same reason she had never told anyone about Tomas except Cassian.

Looking at her out of the corner of her eye, as she poured herself another glass of water and drank it in one go, she made a decision.

She owed it to the person sitting next to her, to give Mor something back for the trust she’d put in her, she’d tell her everything about Tomas, her mother. The way her family had managed to heal and left her behind, alone, until Cassian.

She was about to open her mouth when Mor's phone rang and an amused smile appeared on her face. She lifted the phone so Nesta could see the caller's name and wrinkled her nose, "His ears must have been ringing, hmm?"

Mor chuckled and then answered, "Hello?"

In the deathly silence of the house, Nesta clearly distinguished the man's words.

"Mor, I'm so sorry about last night, we didn't mean to get drunk like that, I promise it won't happen again. I didn't think about what you would-"

"Calm down you overbearing mother hen," Mor said harshly, "but yes, it won't happen again."

"Where are you? Come home so I can make it up to you somehow."

The blonde smiled wickedly and looked at her nails before saying, "I'm at Nesta's."

A pregnant silence made its way into the room.

"What do you mean?"

"We're talking," the girl continued undisturbed.

Nesta had to restrain herself from laughing because she could well imagine the expression on his face at that moment.

"Mor, stop bullshitting."

"I'm not bullshitting, I'm serious, listen," and then she pushed the phone towards Nesta, who's eyes went wide, shaking her head. Mor nodded at her and she murmured a weak, "Hello, Cassian." before the blonde retracted the phone, bringing it to her ear again. "See?"

"What the fuck."

"Don't worry, I'll be home in less than ten minutes. I think." then she eyed Nesta, covering the microphone with one hand as Cassian began to insult her in every way imaginable. "Do you want to come with me?" she asked her with a hint of hope in her tone, "To talk to Cass maybe? I understand if you don't want to come, maybe you need more time."

But Nesta knew the truth now, and that seemed to be enough, so she nodded and smiled slightly at her. She owed it to Cassian too, to let him explain everything too.

Mor let out a squeak of happiness and then interrupted the list of insults that kept flowing from the phone, "Correction, we will be home in ten minutes."

“Morrigan-”

“Take a shower, we’ll be there in the blink of an eye.”

And then she ended the call without even saying goodbye.

Nesta snorted, "You gave him a heart attack."

Mor smiled at her, clapping her hands, "Do you need to get ready too?"

She looked at her clothes and thought that yes, she should have showered too, but furrowed her brow and grimaced, looking at her, "Actually, I wanted to apologize first. I know what it's like not to have the courage to talk about your problems and I know it must have been hard to talk to me. So thank you and sorry for calling you a cheating bitch."

Mor's eyes went wide, "He never told me-"

"Oh no, he doesn't know, but I felt the need to apologise for that too." she smiled sweetly.

The other burst out laughing and then they stayed at Nesta's for another good half hour, talking about their own terrible experiences with men, shedding a few tears and offering words of comfort only when necessary. They didn't notice how much time had passed until Az called Mor, asking if everything was all right. Overbearing mother hens, the blonde had said once the call had ended, but Nesta had gone to get dressed and now they were going to Cassian's house together.

Something had changed and she no longer felt the urge to slam Morrigan's head against the edge of the table every time she saw her, but things with Cassian would take weeks, months, before they were back to normal.

Or at least she thought so.

Cassian

"Cassian, where did you put... what the fuck are you doing?" asked Azriel as he entered his room.

His head snapped up, only giving his older brother a glance before he returned with his fullest attention to the room. He was running from side to side, tidying up as fast as he could, but with a broken arm, swamped with dirty laundry and cans poised on his fingers, he probably looked crazy now.

"Nesta is on her way here."

Azriel's eyes went so wide that for a moment he thought they were going to pop out of his head, "Meaning what?"

"Meaning that Morrigan," he grunted his friend's full name, wrinkling his nose when he found a pair of dirty underwear under the bed, "went to Nesta's house to talk and now she's bringing her here to-" he threw his arms up, dropping everything he'd picked up and feeling a note of pain in his left, but he didn't pay attention to it, "I don't know what she's bringing her here for, but this house is a mess and I have to shower and tidy everything up and find a way not to go crazy and make her-"

He froze suddenly again, feeling a gag of vomit rise in his throat after the unreasonable evening where they had probably scared Mor with all the alcohol they had ingested.

Azriel sighed, running a hand through his hair, "How long did she say they'd be here?"

Cassian shook his head, "I have no idea. I stared at the phone for ages after she hung up." he narrowed his eyes. "I need to wash up."

The other nodded, "Why don't you go take a shower and I'll clean up here? Rhys went out this morning and I don't have a clue where he is." he warned him, pushing him towards the bathroom.

Cassian had only grunted a vague reply to him and then gone to get ready and was genuinely shocked when he had come out and the house was actually all clean. He imagined that the two years he'd spent in the house with Rhys had paid off. He remembered how dirty and messy their room had been when they all still lived together.

He was tucking a t-shirt over his head when he heard Mor's ringing laughter followed by Nesta's controlled, but still lovely, laugh. Then Azriel said something else and they both burst into louder laughter and Cassian felt his heart tighten in his chest.

These last few weeks had been devastating.

When Nesta had told him to leave and never return, he'd had no choice.

It had been a matter of deciding between Mor's life and his relationship with Nesta, and as much as he loved her, there would be no way to convince his girlfriend that she had to go, that she couldn't let her friend get beaten up again. Or worse.

When he'd arrived at Kier's house, it had taken all his self-control not to grab the man's head and slam it against the wall and get it over with once and for all.

He'd spent the week after the breakup in bed, eating and only taking care of his body when others reminded him. With a broken arm it had been easy to tell everyone he couldn't do anything about it, but they'd heard him the times he'd cried at night thinking about Nesta and it had been Rhysand who'd told him to call her after ten days. He had simply shaken his head.

He couldn't do that to her. He couldn't drag her back into a relationship where his head wasn't one hundred percent present.

He should have left her long ago, he just didn't have the courage.

He heard Nesta's laughter again and shook his head, now was not the time to think about what had happened in Mor's life. He needed to focus on his own now. He had to at least try.

And if nothing changed, if he couldn't win her back, he owed her an apology, an explanation.

He slipped on the first clean pair of trousers he could find and then, with steps far too fast to seem vague, hurried down the hallway until he found himself standing in front of his brother, his friend and the woman he had been convinced would never leave him.

Her eyes immediately found his and the smile she was wearing instantly dropped when she saw him, but she gave a small nod, "Cass, hi."

He felt something break inside him and his gaze misted over.

Azriel gave a cough then walked towards the door, tying one arm around Mor's and pulling her towards the exit, "We'll leave you two alone, text me later, alright?" he asked, but he didn't wait for an answer and suddenly Cassian and Nesta were alone.

Alone after all that time.

He took a deep breath and stepped forward, opening his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

Nesta lowered her arms along her sides and smiled weakly, "I think we should talk."

He couldn't get the lump in his throat down, so he just nodded, pointing to the living room.

She looked well.

Not well physically, but she seemed to be more relaxed, more at ease than the other day.

Her cheeks were still hollowed out and the dark circles under her eyes so deep that the temptation to ask her if they could go to bed and sleep, cuddled up like they used to, so they could both finally close their eyes for real without regrets and nightmares pulling them from sleep was so high that he felt something crack in his chest again, for the millionth time.

He only wished he could hold her one last time.

When they were both sitting up, mere inches between them, Nesta inspected him as he had inspected her up to that point and saw the way her throat moved when she swallowed air, probably trying not to burst into tears herself.

They must have looked pitiful.

"How are you?" she managed to say, in a weak voice.

Cassian looked at her face some more, deciding whether to lie or not. He took a deep breath before answering, "I've never been worse in my life."

The muscles in her face twitched as she tried to keep her emotions at bay. She nodded softly, shifting her gaze to the unlit television, "I've seen better days too," she murmured, torturing her fingers, "Even before you came into my life I didn't think I could ever be this bad."

"Nes..."

Her eyes closed tightly. Feeling the emotion attached to that single word, her name whispered with that clear desperation.

She tried to change the subject as quickly as she could, "Mor told me everything. Why you ran away every time like someone was holding a gun to your head," she began, getting straight to the point, not wanting to waste any more time. She couldn't look at him though, despite the fact that there was now nothing but truth between them. "It was because it was admittedly life and death situations."

Cassian took a sharp breath, "I shouldn't have-"

"You shouldn't have, no," she interrupted him. "You shouldn't have, and if we had communicated in any way - if you had even tried to explain to me what the hell was going on, you knew. God, you knew, I wouldn't have blamed Morrigan. That I would have offered her a home if I'd known how serious the matter was."

He felt his stomach clench so tightly he thought he was going to throw up.

"I just want to be able to trust you." she whispered after a few moments of silence.

"You can." he replied immediately, "You can." he repeated, trying to convince her.

Nesta looked up at him. She licked her bottom lip, biting into the skin there a moment later and then shifted her gaze to the floor, "I miss you."

Cassian had to swallow a breath before he could speak, "I miss you too."

She said nothing and he continued.

"I miss you every damn second of the day. And at night, when I can't sleep, thinking about you, I stay awake until I pass out from exhaustion." his voice became rougher as he tried not to think about the day they had met, when he had found her asleep on the floor of that filthy library. "And when sleep doesn't come I regret and blame myself for all the wrongs that have happened."

"Every unspoken thing. Every misstep, every broken promise." said Nesta in a trembling voice. When her eyes fixed on him one more time, he no longer knew how to breathe when she murmured, "Cassian you broke me."

And the single tear that rolled down her cheek broke the last whole part of him.

He couldn't stop the instinct when his hand reached up to her face, the tips of his fingers brushing against her cheek and they both sighed, locking gazes.

And in an instant, the second his palm clung completely to her skin and Nesta closed her eyes, reveling in that touch and thrusting against his hand, Cassian felt every broken piece, every splinter and shard of his soul return to its proper place.

"I'm sorry." he said, extending his other hand to cup her face as well. "I'm sorry, for everything. Please forgive me." I love you, Nesta, please forgive me.

And as if she had heard him, she opened her eyes and nodded slightly before they both let go of a breath of relief that still echoed through the room when she launched herself forward, crashing her mouth against his in a desperate kiss that tasted of salt and love.

five years, three months and two days before

When Cassian had invited her on a date, this was definitely not what she had expected. After all, she doubted it was even remotely close to what Cassian himself had expected.

Their second-first date wasn't supposed to take place in a hospital, yet there they were.

Cassian was lying on the bed when Nesta entered the room. A tight bandage around his head was the only sign of the actual blow he had taken when he had carelessly fallen down the stairs in his haste to leave the house.

As soon as he saw her, his mouth split open in a bright smile, "Love..."

Nesta, who had stopped in the doorway and replied with an equally dazzling smile, felt her heart tighten in her chest at that pet name. The morphine they had given him must have kicked in. She took a hesitant step forward, clasping her hands around her bag, "How are you feeling?"

Cassian chuckled, turning to the nurse who had accompanied Nesta all the way there - Gwyneth, she had read on the label attached to her scrubs - before saying, "She cares how I feel."

The flame-haired girl snorted a laugh, "No shit." she said in a mocking tone, this time turning to Nesta.

She had the decency to blush under the nurse's amused eyes. After all, she had come into the emergency room demanding to know what had happened and where he was at that moment.

Gwyneth had been the one to reach her first and tell her everything she needed to know about the physical state of Cassian, who had apparently lied about Nesta being his wife.

The nurse wasn't stupid, and she'd told her as much when she'd realised that neither of them were wearing wedding rings, but seeing how terrified Nesta had been as soon as she'd set foot in the emergency room, she'd turned a blind eye and assured them that after a quick check to make sure Cassian was okay, she'd give them some time alone.

"She cares how I feel," Cassian murmured again, almost not believing the fact that Nesta was there, for him. Then he turned back to her and opened his mouth wide when he realised what she was wearing. He brought his good hand to his chest, over his heart, and whispered, "You are killing me."

"Try not to die while I'm on duty, please," the nurse muttered, before warning them that everything looked fine and that if he passed out they should call her immediately. She walked past Nesta, brushing her shoulder and winking at her, but she hardly noticed.

She only had eyes for Cassian.

When Mor had called her, telling her there had been a little accident, the world had fallen in on her. She'd kept it together until her new found friend had told her that they'd taken Cassian to the hospital by ambulance after he'd passed out from a very hard blow to the head. She'd been vague about how it had happened, but Nesta suspected that Cassian had already been late and had been running down the stairs when he'd fallen.

She certainly wasn't going to ask him tonight, because her non-boyfriend was out of it and completely high on drugs. And the only thing she cared about at that moment was that constant sound of the machines monitoring his heart, assuring her that he was alive, breathing.

The second the door closed behind her, Nesta moved and it wasn't even five minutes before she found herself lying next to him on the bed, her heels forgotten on the floor as Cassian wrapped his good arm around her and intertwined their fingers.

She rested her head on his chest and felt the way his lungs released a sigh of relief at the contact of their bodies. She could feel the beat of his heart, rapid and steady, alive, beneath her fingers.

They weren't saying anything to each other, and Nesta knew there was no need to.

In the end, it had always been like that between them. Their mere companionship was more than enough.

It wasn't until an hour later, when she began to close her eyes, that Cassian moved his other arm up to touch her shoulder, drawing her attention.

She lifted her head enough to rest her chin on his chest, and when she met Cassian's eyes, she smiled faintly at the expression of pure love and devotion that shone on his face.

She saw the way his Adam's apple moved up and then down as he swallowed and the way his eyelids flickered and he hunched his shoulders, wrapping his arms around her body. Before Cassian could speak, she did, "I love you."

And maybe it was the moment, the emotion that had surely both built up in the weeks leading up to their date that had ended in ruin, the sheer desperation and loneliness they had felt in that long month away from each other, but Cassian closed his eyes, nodding softly, "I love you, Nesta."

She leaned higher, stretching her neck towards him and pressing their bodies together until her mouth brushed against his. The kiss was not hasty, not desperate like the emotions racing through their hearts. It was like a window to the future. Their lips moved slowly in harmony, without worry, without urgency in that infinite kiss.

Because they both knew that there would be no one else for the rest of their days and they had all the time in the world to show each other the strong emotions of life. In that moment, they were each other's calm and strength.

When they broke away, it was only because Gwyneth had brought them food. If cherry jelly could be considered food. Either way, they'd been forced to interrupt their make out session to stock up on some sweet, clear edible stuff, which Nesta had devoured like few things in her life. Cassian had left her half of his portion and then they had snuggled back under the covers, talking about this and that, happy just to be both alive in this cruel world.

four years, six months and twenty-one days earlier

"When did you say they were coming?"

Nesta shifted her gaze to Mor's face, who kept her head resting on her thighs while her very long, very smooth legs remained on display against the wall of their living room. The position couldn't have been the best, especially considering the amount of alcohol her friend had swallowed, but the blonde had promised not to vomit on her so Nesta had no choice but to accept her temporary role as a pillow.

She shrugged, taking a sip from her glass, realising that the wine had finished. "They said they'd be here around ten, so any minute now." Mor nodded absentmindedly, toying with a lock of Nesta's hair.

Someone took the glass from her hand and she lifted her head just in time for her lips to collide with Cassian's, who had intended to kiss her on the forehead. They both smiled into the kiss and when he made to pull away to go and refill her glass, Nesta grabbed him by the collar and pulled him back to her mouth, making him laugh.

A cry of disgust came from down between them, "I preferred you when you weren't together."

Without taking his eyes off of Nesta's, Cassian told her to fuck off, adding shortly after, "Remind me who went to Nes' house to beg her to get back with me."

The blonde mumbled something not too nice and Rhys, who sat next to Azriel on the couch opposite to theirs, was about to retort, when the front door rang once and then twice. Az frowned, eyeing Nesta, "They're impatient."

Nesta shrugged again, a gesture she'd begun to pull too often and which Cassian said stemmed from her spending too much time with Mor.

That was going to be the night her sisters would meet her new group of friends from a few months back and Nesta knew it would go smoothly. Elain would be her usual kind and festive self and Feyre would have everyone in that room wrapped around her fingers in a matter of seconds. She didn't have to worry.

Besides, the only opinion she really cared about was her boyfriend's, and Cassian had had a chance to get to know his sisters well before their breakup.

Rhys had gotten up, staggering just enough to go answer the door, but Cassian had already done the honors, and when the youngest of the brothers looked up at the newcomers, he stumbled over his own steps for a completely different reason than the alcohol in his veins.

Feyre Archeron stood at the entrance to the living room in all her beauty. The tight black dress she had chosen to wear showed off everything the younger of the sisters had to offer and Rhysand looked more than ready to pick up every bit of whatever she threw at him.

Elain walked past her with nonchalance, greeting Cassian with a chaste kiss on the cheek, then introducing herself to Azriel and Mor, who had pulled herself up to hold her in a breathless hug.

Nesta felt Feyre's gaze on her and turned to her, waving whimsically. Feyre chuckled, shaking her head, "How much have you had to drink already?"

Nesta would have replied that she didn't know if Rhysand hadn't lunged forward towards her, risking bumping into Cassian, who was returning from the kitchen with a chalice full of wine for her and her sister.

Her boyfriend's eyes went wide, "What the fuck, Rhys, be careful."

But it was as if no one but Feyre existed for the man anymore.

Feyre stepped back, eyeing Cassian and taking the glass with a simple thank you. Az had approached as well, but as he tried to speak, Rhys interrupted him.

"Hello Feyre darling, I'm Rhysand."

Nesta rolled her eyes, just as Mor did beside her, and Elain chuckled.

Meanwhile, Feyre had never seemed so hesitant in her life. Nesta saw the moment she decided to let go and reached out to shake Rhysand's hand. And then Feyre used the voice that Nesta had only ever heard her use when her sister wanted to get something out of the evening and understood perfectly well how it was going to turn out in a few hours. "Feyre, but I assume you already knew that."

The look Rhys gave her and the nod of assent he did made her think that maybe they wouldn't even wait hours, but mere minutes before leaving the party to go find somewhere more secluded.

When the introductions were over, Cassian took a seat next to her, forcibly pushing Mor away until Nesta was clear of everyone else. Circling her shoulders with one arm and pulling her as close to him as possible, Nesta soon found herself sitting on his lap, sipping wine as one of his hands rested on her thigh, massaging circles with his thumb.

Hours passed between board games and indecent jokes exchanged between the younger in the room and Nesta thought she could never be happier than she was in that moment.

Relaxed as she was, it didn't take Nesta long to let herself go completely and when Elain and Azriel also started talking about their partners respectively, sharing funny stories on how they met, she closed her eyes as well, lulled by Cassian's breath on her face and the fleeting kisses he occasionally left on her cheek.

She could feel his eyes on her, but she couldn't find the strength to open hers, and it wasn't until Feyre and Rhys had left and Mor and Azriel had offered Elain a ride that Cassian held her tighter in his arms and carried her to their room, where a bed that had smelled like both of them for two months now remained unmade from that morning's activities.

And though exhaustion was at an all-time high, it wasn't until Cassian lay down behind her, pressing his chest against her back and wrapping himself around her, that sleep finally found them both.

the day

Nesta kept one hand on Cassian's shoulder and the other on his forearm as he rocked her on the dance floor of the venue they had chosen for their wedding.

A few feet away from them, over her husband's shoulder - husband, she was going to have to get used to that title from now on - she could see Elain by the buffet tables laughing carefree as she held onto Lucien, who was laying both hands on her ready-to-burst baby bump, talking to his girls. Nesta smiled as she thought of the countless times she had caught Lucien on his knees entertaining his two unborn twins with conversations about sports.

Moving her gaze to the other side of the runway, she saw Feyre clinging to Rhys, who was surely whispering to her about all the dirty things they could do in the wardrobe of that place judging by her sister's lost and giddy expression.

Trying not to think too much about Feyre in compromising positions, she found Mor and Emerie at the bar, drinking leaning against each other, exchanging jokes that Nesta knew had to do with the outfits of some of their relatives.

A little further on still, Azriel was pirouetting Gwyn so elegantly that she felt a note of jealousy. Az had a faint smile on his lips, but the way his eyes twinkled as he admired her friend's fiery red hair twirling as she spun and spun made her wonder how much longer he was going to wait before he proposed.

She was about to voice her doubts when Cassian's hands lightly squeezed her hips and she shifted her full attention to the man of her life.

Nesta's breath caught for the thousandth time that day when she looked into his eyes.

She raised an eyebrow in question. Cassian smiled, bringing a hand to her face and brushing her cheek, "You look beautiful." he whispered in a hoarse voice.

Her features relaxed and she smiled back, "You're not bad yourself, Mr. Archeron."

Cassian threw his head back, moaning awkwardly and drawing the attention of everyone present. Azriel gave them an amused look and Nesta waved a hand in mid-air, to say it was nothing fancy.

"Mr. Archeron." repeated Cassian, pulling her away from him for a second, as if expecting from that specific dance, only to pull her back against his chest a second later. "If I hear you call me any other name in bed from now on, I might file for divorce."

Nesta chuckled, moving a hand to his chest, "Of course, my love."

His eyes softened even more when they moved back to her face. And Nesta searched his expression for something to tell her that he regretted his decision. That he was lying to her and that in fact the idea of bearing her surname, of being linked to her, repulsed him.

She found nothing that day. Just as she would find nothing in the years to come.

Only adoration and love and respect for the woman she had become thanks to him.

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[secondhand-trash]

Friday I’m In Love

commissioned by @xaki

A/N: no, the fic has nothing to do with the song it just so happens that it fits in the most literal sense lmao much thanks to xaki who gave me my first commission and my friend for helping me out when my brain was going all sorts of illogical directions uwu

Pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x f!reader

Description: You saw Kuroo Tetsurou once every week, where you tried your best to not let the fact that he was your high school crush distract you too much.

Warning: unprotected sex, spanking, dirty talk, slight degradation

Word count: 5052

-

You saw Kuroo Tetsurou once every week, during the single Wednesday morning lecture you shared.

You had allowed yourself the luxury of stealing a few glances his way during that one occasion, but never do more than just looking from afar.

Actually, it was ironic that you had gotten to the point of limiting yourself from even looking at him when there was a time you would see him nearly every day.

Getting into the same high school was a pure coincidence, but you had also noticed early on that no matter where he was, your gaze was following his figure before you even realised it. Who could blame you, really. Who wouldn’t want to spare even just a few more seconds looking at the boy who was taller than the rest of his peers even in his first year, only growing more and more breathtaking as he ditched the boyishness and slowly gained the edge on his face and the hint of maturity in his eyes.

You were far from being the only one that harboured a bit of a schoolgirl crush on the eventual volleyball club captain. In the few years where you shared the same class, you had witnessed him being called out of the classroom by blushing pupils more times than you could count. It always brought a bitter taste to your mouth but what could you do about it? At least they had the guts to confess. 

You liked to believe that it was not a cowardly move for you to hide your affections all throughout your high school years. It was just that as early as you had noticed your budding feelings, you also realised that you two belong with two seperate groups of people with very different interests, and the chances that he would opt for you was slimmer than slim. So you never did much to try and win him over, maintaining a friendly distance where you only interact in class and nothing outside of it. 

At least it could be a nice memory to look back on when you were way past the age to be conflicted over things like this.

You were just as shocked as any other person when you learned that he did not go the pro-athlete route everyone thought he would go, nearly as shocked when you walked into your first lecture of the semester to see him sitting right at the very front.

He seemed to have noticed you too, giving you a slight nod after his eyes widened. You returned the polite gesture, before heading straight to the very back of the lecture hall without a hint of hesitation.

You could deal with one more semester of friendly distance. Couldn’t be that hard, right?

-

It was Wednesday morning again, and you sinked into the seat at the very back of the lecture hall you tactfully occupied with a yawn.

It was from pure bad luck that you managed to register the one 8:30 lecture available in the course. Everywhere around you, people were either half asleep or laid down on the table at the very least. From the corner of your eye, you even spotted someone catching up on the latest episodes of the new tv series that just aired with subtitles on.

You sighed, leaning your jaw on your palm. You wanted to say that this was a bit too much even for a lecture but who were you to judge when your soul was starting to escape your body to somewhere more interesting than the lecture hall anyway.

The amount of people who were actually paying attention to the lecture could probably be counted with one hand, let along the ones that seemed to be genuinely enjoying it. You thought to yourself, your glances floating to the boy who blocked even more of your view with his roaster head on top of his existing height.

He was probably the only one who still had the strength to chuckle when the lecturer tried to liven up the dying atmosphere with unfunny gags.

“...for the upcoming event, students who volunteered as committee members would receive bonus marks based on their performance,” you perked up at the distant call of ‘bonus score’ from far away, “the form will be placed by the door, Please fill in your name before you leave if you are interested.”

Your mind was occupied by numbers and calculations of your gpa for the rest of your class, even as you lined up mindlessly behind your other classmates after the lecture was dismissed. Another thing about morning lessons was that the amount of effort you were willing to put in was also diminished by the limits on your mind and soul, meaning that any chance at a higher grade was worth trying. You had decided that free labour in exchange for that good grade was a decent enough bargain.

“Hey.”

You snapped out of your trance when it was your turn at the form only to feel your heart skipping a beat when you looked up to see the familiar handsome face you stared at as your recharge every morning.

You blinked, trying hard to maintain a calm front even though your mind went haywired at the rare direct interaction you had with Kuroo.

“Do you need the pen?” he asked, holding out the thin ball pen he was gripping in his hand to you.

“Oh,” your eyes widened, putting on a polite smile as you took it from him, “oh yes. Um, thank you.”

It was only a while later when you put down your name right below his that it finally hit you that you two had signed up for the same event. It took even longer for you to realise that the strange tingle you felt at the back of your hand was from his fingertips brushing past yours as he let go of the pen, but by then he was gone and it would be a few days later when you saw him again.

-

You now see Kuroo Tetsurou two times every week. Once during the dreadful morning lecture on Wednesday and on Friday evening where you were stuck in the committee meeting together.

But unlike the stolen glances on Wednesday, you were forced to acknowledge Kuroo as more than just a distant being you were merely acquaintances with in those few hours.

It was very inconvenient for you, considering how each time you felt smaller and smaller under his concentrated gaze as he listened to your input on whatever topic of discussion it was. In fact, you felt rather resentful that you couldn’t quite stand as firm as you did on your stance that you wanted to keep what was clear to be a admiration from being known under your own free will instead of a lack of self-assurance.

You had no choice but to be reminded that he was smart and brilliant on top of just being good-looking. He always knew what to say when the rest of the room was stuck, moving the agenda forward with each valuable input. He was easy to work with, reliable and always efficient.You found that you genuinely liked working with him, crush or not. He listened intently to what other people had to say and never said anything less than constructive.

Worst of all, you were starting to have the illusion that he had started paying more attention to you too. When you looked around the room as you were about to speak up each time, you would always lock your eyes with him at some point, even before you started talking like he already anticipated that you would have something to say.

Maybe it was a mistake, you thought to yourself as you stared outside the pitch black windows of the bus that was rocking steadily, feeling your mind drifting away after using up all your energy in the meeting, maybe those few bonus marks were not worth all this inner conflict.

“Hi, um,” you looked to the side, your mind going blank like you just got caught doing something guilty when you saw the exact person you were thinking about standing by. You cursed the uncontrollable heat that raised on your face, “can I sit here?”

It wasn’t like you could say no. “Sure,” you said as you picked up your bag to clear out the seat for him, flashing a cordial smile of someone who did not have a reason to be nervous when you could already feel the beating in your chest speeding up, “of course.”

“Thanks,” he said with a relieved sigh, throwing himself on the empty chair with a soft thump. You tried to pretend that you did not secretly really care about how close he was to you now, looking back out of the window again. Kuroo looked at you, pondering if he should say something first.

“So…”

“Hm?” you turned around to face him at the dragged out note of his voice.

“Have you gone back to Nekoma after graduation?”

You sighed and gave a light shake of your head, "No. Just surviving college is hard enough, who has time to think about going back?”

You tried to dismiss the knot in your stomach when he replied with a light chuckle and the corner of your lips curling up against your will when he leaned back. “Makes sense," he said, running his hand through his unruly hair before swiftly carrying on to ask you about what you were up to now.

It would have been easier if it was awkward or uncomfortable but sadly, Kuroo was also very easy to talk to and by the time you regained your senses, you were already at the door of your apartment with him walking you there the whole way after getting off the bus at the same stop.

Next Friday, he came up to you with a grinning face when you packed up your stuff after the meeting. “We go the same direction, right?” he had said, walking next to you casually as you headed out the meeting room. He started the conversation before you could say anything, and like last time, he walked you back to your apartment, claiming that he lived nearby anyways.

You saw him twice every week. Once during the morning lecture that was starting to feel less painful to endure and the Friday committee meeting, where he naturally walked you home without fail each week. At some point, he started saving you the seat next to him before each meeting and there was less and less of a reason for you to not take it when he was already leaving with you anyways. All of the above had reminded you once again why you were so hellbent on staying away from him in the first place.

He was far too easy to like, even more so now that you were somewhat friends by the end of the series of meetings.

-

The voice of your instructor was distant as you stared at the clock, the sound of Kuroo’s pencil tapping against the table keeping you in touch with what was going on. It was the last meeting you had to attend and quite frankly there was nothing interesting going on at this point. You glanced to the side, before pulling out your phone that has been buzzing in your pocket since the meeting started.

You tried to conceal the irritation rising in your chest as you looked at the glowing screen underneath the table. Your old friends had been bombing you with questions ever since they learnt that after years of looking on, you somehow had a leaping development with your crush on accident after graduation. It was a mistake on your part, given how the topic of their heated discussion was sitting right next to you. 

“(y/l/n)?”

The sudden mention of your name startled you, and you threw your phone down almost a bit too hard. “Yes?”

“Can you help hand these out?”

You let out a relieved sigh that you were not being called out for not paying attention as you stood up, pushing the conversation that was no doubt still ongoing in your group chat to the back of your head. “Of course.”

Kuroo watched as you got out, taking the stack of minutes from the instructor. After today, he would go back to only seeing you when you walked into the morning lecture hall. He felt the nerves building in his stomach, wondering if he should bear his teeth and threw his shot in changing that.

‘So you’re just going to do nothing?’

The screen of your phone that was laying on the table lit up as the speech bubble appeared. His curiosity got the better of him when the next message popped in before he could look away.

‘You have liked Kuroo for years and you’re just going to let this chance slip?’

He froze in place when he read his own name. You liked him? His eyes flicked to you, his heart in his throat at the realisation that he had just learnt something he was not supposed to know. 

But despite the slight guilt of overstepping his boundaries, it took all the fiber in his body to stop himself from grinning ear to ear when you returned to your seat next to him.

“What?” you asked with an amused quirk of your eyebrows at how stiffly he was sitting.

“Nothing,” Kuroo replied, feeling the muscle around his mouth going sore as he bit the inside of his cheeks, “nothing.”

The ride home felt so much longer with him next to you, knowing that this was to be the last. He did not say anything even as you got off, only walking in silence like he was deep in thought. You wondered what it was that made him so quiet today, he was usually the more chatty one out of you two.

Kuroo felt the tension building up in his head as you got closer and closer to your door. 

“Can I tell you something?”

You snapped around, your hand on the handle of your doorknob when he suddenly spoke up for the first time since you left the meeting that day. “Yeah?”

“My place is at the opposite side of the neighbourhood.”

“What?” your voice came out as a whisper. Your breath hitch at the back of your throat when he took one step closer to you before leaning down. His face was right in front of yours, his defined features dangerously close to you.

“I said,” you could feel his breath fanning on your face as he spoke and the pounding in your ear was thundering as you held your breath, “I’m only here because I want to be around you.”

Kuroo watched intently as your eyes widened, your jaw clenching as you gulped. His gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips, almost like he was waiting for you to show him any hint of rejection before he made the irreversible move. 

When your hand slowly crept onto his shoulder and stayed there, he latched onto you. You were taken back by his force, his tongue evading your mouth at your moment of lowered alert. His kiss was demanding, stealing away the oxygen in your lungs bit by bit as he held you close. 

You were panting when he pulled away after his initial outburst, your pupils dilated as your lips swollen up. You paused, before gathering the courage that had surged in your chest.

“Do you want to come in?”

Kuroo did not waste another second when the door clicked, his hand getting rougher now that you were within the privacy of your home. Your arms hung around his neck as you desperately held yourself up, your toes barely touching the floor as he demandingly kissed down the side of your neck. He lost patience at your struggling, lifting you up with his arm under your hips before pulling you down onto him with a stumbling step to the cramped couch.

“Help me strip.” He whispered in your ear, adjusting your position on his lap as he brought your hand to the opened collar of his shirt. You gulped when he gave an encouraging knead on your upper thigh, far too consumed by the want of seeing more of him to feel bashful by his bold request.

His gaze burned on your skin as he stared at you, not moving away even for a second while you tear apart the row of buttons to reveal more and more of his toned body. You felt like your fingers were not listening to your commands, a clumsy stiffness in your joints as he unhooked each button. The subconscious way you darted your tongue out to wet your lips at the rise and fall of his chest did not go unnoticed under his attentive stare, his much larger hands guiding you to palm his tend over the firm material of his jeans as your finger grazed past the cold metal of the zipper.

Kuroo’s stomach tensed up when you pulled down the fly, pushing your hips against his legs as you pushed away the heavy jeans. He held you down as he sat up, drinking in your soft moan with an open mouthed kiss. Your hand ran down from his shoulder to the firm pecs adoring his abdomen, each mound rippling under the tip of your fingers. His circled one arm around your waist while the other fumbled to pull his aching cock out of its refines. You felt the vibration of his chest as he groaned into your mouth when you allowed your hand to wander down his body, cupping his balls as he fisted his own length.

You let out a shaky sigh when he slid his palm down the elastic band of your panties, groping the soft flesh of your ass as he peeled off the thin piece of cotton with a push down the small of your back to have you arching for him.  He chuckled when he felt the wetness that was seeping through the fabric, earning a glare from you that looked more like a kitten pretending to be defensive out of embarrassment than truly threatening to him with your heated face and slightly swollen lips from his earlier nibbling when you pulled away. A thin strand of silver connected your lips, looking all the more erotic now that you were both half bare and exposed to each other’s hungry eyes.

Your finger dug into the muscle of his arms when he lifted you up from his lap with ease, much thanks to the firm grasp of your thighs in his warm palms. Your lips fell agape but no sound came out when you felt the hardness prodding at your entrance. He looked shamelessly at where your bodies met, not bothering to hide the grin on his face when he felt the pain of your nails against his arm as he brushed his tip along your slit. You whined at the friction that was barely there, not able to sink down with him holding you back but your legs were starting to go weak with each push of his length against your clit. He took his time, spreading the leaking pre-cum across your folds and watching the mixture of your arousal slowly coated his cock.

“Kuroo…” you called out for him, hoping that it would be enough for him to give you what you wanted.

“Aw... What’s with this formality?” his arm flexed under your touch as he tilted his head to the side, lowering you down just a little, “What should you call me when I’m about to fuck your brains out, hm?”

You bite onto the inside of your cheeks when you felt him barely dipping in, his tip just positioned at your pussy.

“Tetsurou-” 

his own name felt foreign as it rolled off the tip of your tongue and he let out an approving hum. “Good girl,” he purred, placing a chaste kiss on your trembling lips. 

His grip on your legs tightened as he leaned closer to you, pushing his cock just a little deeper. Your brows locked together as he stretched out your entrance, clawing at his arm for more. You thought he was finally going to show some mercy on you, but the beating in your heart skipped a beat when you felt his hot breath fanning across your lips instead.

“You’re in love with me, aren’t you?”

Your eyes snapped open, his handsome face right in front of yours. “Wha- mph!”

You yelped at the sudden drop of your hips onto his lap, your nails scratching down his arm as he hilted inside of you with one motion. Your head threw back at the waves of shocking pleasure that sparked down your spine, your juicings running down the base of your thighs as your walls tried to accustomed to his thickness and length.

“What is it? Did you just say yes?” his laugh was wolfish as he took in your expression, a mixture of infuriated and primal desire.

“You-” he did not give you the time to bite back, thrusting up with a lift of your hips and turning whatever you wanted to say into nothing but incoherent moans.

Your body did not feel like it was under your control as he guided you to grind on his cock, the slaps of your soft flesh against his thighs taking over your senses. Your toes curled at how deep he could reach inside you each time he pulled you up and bottomed out of you. His hands were fondling your ass roughly as he bounced you on his cock, reducing you to nothing but a panting mess laying weakly on his chest.

“How does it feel to have the man of your dreams stretching out your tight cunt, hm?” he emphasised each word with a thrust, grinning ear to ear when you made a frugal attempt at slapping his arm you were holding onto. You buried your face into his chest, your muffled moans coming out as hot breath on his skin. He looked down from above you, watching as your ass jiggled under each thrust and your spine arching from the pleasure. 

A loud smack echoed in the room and he groaned at the feeling of your walls clenching around him at the slap of his palm against your ass cheek. He gave the flesh a firm knead, rubbing at the area that had heated up from the spank before pulling his hand away to give the other side the same treatment. You felt the numbness on your skin as your skin burned, the pain making every hair on your back stood up. 

“You like it when I get rough with you? You are squeezing down on my cock so hard,” his voice came as gravel from his chest. Your mind was in a frenzy, not even thinking straight as you nodded feverishly. “You’re such a slut for me, it’s really inflating my ego,” his filthy words made your stomach tighten as he continued, “bet this is what you have been thinking about whenever you check me out.”

You felt your face burning up. He knew all along?

Your surprise came out in the form of a squeal when he stood up, still holding you up. Your panting got more rapid as your only leverage from falling was the frantic clawing at his arm, having nothing but his strength to trust as he bounced you on his cock while marching down the hallway.

He hissed at the sharp pain on his back when your hands scratched down, kicking the door open with a hasty shove at the door with his heel before throwing you down the mattress. He did not waste another second as he perched on top of you, hooking your legs around his waist before rolling his hips to completely take over the pace of his cock pistoning at the spongy spot that made your mind foggy with nothing but his name and the overwhelming feeling of being towered over in your head.

The squelching got louder and louder as he ruthlessly snapped against you. You felt the knot in your stomach tightened up as he leaned down, sucking on the sweet spot at the side of your neck. His hand roamed all over your body, kneading your tits that bounced under his force. 

He could not get over the fact that you were actually here, folded beneath him right now, and that it was his name you were moaning out. 

“I’m-” your legs clasped around him as every muscle on your limbs tensed up, “I’m close-”

“Yeah? Tell me what you want,” he growled in your ear, his thrusts starting to get sloppy as your walls spasmed around his cock, “what does my girl want?”

You had imagined what it would be like if Kuroo Tetsurou ever set his eyes on you, if he had wanted you the same way you had absentmindedly started wanting him despite your best efforts to convince yourself that you knew that would not happen. But nothing could stop the heat that exploded in your chest and spread all through your body at how natural it came out of his mouth.

His girl. You were his girl now.

You let out a choked mewl when he switched from erratic plowing to slowly dragging his cock along your walls. The sudden drop from your near high seeped into your senses, tingling down from your core all the way to the tip of your toes. 

“Tetsu-” your back arched off the mattress when he pulled out all the way only to halt in you with a sudden thrust, “want you to make me cum- ah!”

The shocks that sparked through your body when he set his sight on making you fall apart underneath him with his vigorous thrusts had your toe pointing stiffly and curling under the pleasure. The fist in the pit of your stomach curled and unfolded as he gripped your chin roughly, turning your head to look right into his eyes.

“Fuck, you wanna cum?” he hissed, feeling the shivers on his own back as he got closer and closer to his own high, “Then look at me, look at me as you cum on my cock-”

You felt your body shuddering as waves of pleasure crashed over you. His eyes were all you could focus on as you succumbed to the weakening of your limbs, the pounding in your ear gradually returned to a regular pace with Kuroo’s languish strokes allowing you to ride out your high. 

You were sure you could never forget how the defined arch of his brows knitted together as he pulled out of you, his head throwing back just a little with his lips slightly parted. A sinful moan leaking out as spurts of white painted across your lower stomach. 

Your vision was hazed over with a veil of fog as you blinked, collecting your breaths before focusing on the roof of your room that suddenly felt so unfamiliar. The claminess on your skin and the smell of sweat slowly took over. You felt the weight on your chest, breathing out a heavy exhale.

You really did just have sex with your crush, huh?

As if noticing your train of thought, Kuroo leaned over and placed a quick kiss on your jaw, his grin reaching his eyes as he stared at you. Much unlike his earlier dominance, the lazy curl of each syllable on his lips sounded more so like he was trying to play cute.

"Wait here,” he said, adding another peck on your lips, “I’ll grab you a towel.”

“The bathroom is the one right outside…” you muttered, feeling the dent on the mattress sprung back as he climbed off of you.

Your tensed muscles slowly relaxed as he moved you to lean against his broad chest, his hand gently caressing your skin as he dabbed the wet towel on you. His lips ghosted along your ear as he cleaned up the marks and trails left from your earlier passions, trying hard to conceal his satisfaction when you whined as he brushed past the bruises on your thighs.

“You should start getting used to it from now on, plenty more chances for us to- ouch, ouch.. ok, I’m sorry…”

The corner of your lips lifted up, burying your face into his chest as you tried to get comfortable, “I was right, you are way more attractive without opening your mouth.”

“Awe, don’t say that,” he pouted but the wolfish grin on his face told you he was not apologetic at all.

Kuroo watched as you slowly leaned onto him more and more, until your eyelids closed up with a flutter. If you had stayed awake for just a little longer, you would know that he could not be any more careful when he tucked you under the blanket before slipping in next to you. On this rare occasion where he would not get caught, he allowed himself to stare at your serene expression as he dozed off to sleep with a content smile on his face.

You did not need to know that his grade for the one course you shared was high enough already and he signed up for the committee purely because you were signing up too. He certainly would not let you know that he had always noticed your lingering gaze on him or that he secretly enjoyed it, even back when he saw you more than twice a week. That and the fact that he was overjoyed when he saw you appearing from the door of the lecture hall that Wednesday morning, followed by the ever growing frustration that he couldn’t find an excuse to talk to you when you were literally in the same class.

Whatever. Kuroo thought to himself as he gently threw his arm over your waist, burying his face into the crook of your neck as he inhaled your sweet scent. At least he didn’t have to go all the way from your apartment complex back to his place every Friday anymore.

[xmyshya]

Shoved it: chapter II - Ollie

summary: You don’t like skaters. They’re unruly, misbehaved and rude. But this one encounter just might change your view. genre: fluff warnings: tooth-rotting fluff (seriously, make a dentist appointment), slow burn, mutual pining betas: @vanille–kiss​ as always I’m eternally grateful to you, I love you lots a/n: Written for ANILYSIUM (former HQHQ) Server Collab with the prompt “Meet Ugly”. Check the event’s masterlist here! series navi: masterlist | previous | next wc: 1.5k

It’s a nightmare. Everything must be just a bad dream, and soon you’re going to wake up. No more invading your sleep. No more being watched and followed through the halls. No more running, no more hiding, no more irritation.

But here’s the thing - it’s reality. And the Prince Charming from your nightly illusions still has those half-lidded olive eyes; the same eyes that meet yours at school and observe your every move. He’s everywhere you go, behind every corner, on every floor. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was in your closet.

Obviously it’s an exaggeration. While it’s true that you notice him more often than not, he’s also much taller than other students. His little circle of friends consists of really handsome boys, causing a commotion and squealing of the girls surrounding them. But, much to your dismay, he notices you just as much.

@mikYou know people like him. You know boys like him. Misbehaved jerks, thinking the world revolves around them and rules are meant to be broken; convinced that one smile is enough to make any girl fall in love with them, only to break their heart. But you, you’re not a part of this world, you refuse to be, and you want nothing to do with him.

Unfortunately, the stalker (as you like to call him) not only dares to smile and wink at you, but tries to approach you. So far you’ve managed to avoid him, spotting his messy brown hair towering over swarming students. This time, however, you failed to notice until it was too late. Until he had you trapped between his arms, your back against the wall.

“What do you think you’re doing, punk?!” You spit in his face, earning a tsk from the boy.

“Do I look like a punk to you?”

You want to retort, you really do, but the intensity of his gaze makes you open and close your mouth, like a fish thrown out of the ocean.

“Suna.”

“What?”

“I figured you didn’t know my name. Suna Rintarou.”

“I didn’t ask.”

He doesn’t know why you seem to hate him so much and it drives him mad. At first, Suna only wanted to really apologise for the incident, his conscience still clawing at him. Somewhere along the way it shifted into something more mischievous; seeing you blush and making a run for it giving him a fair amount of entertainment.

Initially you manage to win this game of cat and mouse, your average height being your biggest ally in hiding in the crowd. It certainly doesn’t help that other students tend to concentrate around him, and you’re long gone before he even scrambles out of the group. But he never misses the heat blossoming on your cheeks when he sends a wink in your direction.

Today might be Rin’s lucky day though. Most of the other teenagers are already gone, the halls pleasantly quiet and empty. You’re walking in front of him alone, and he’s sure you aren’t aware of the boy behind you.

He’s never been so grateful for his silent footsteps, or maybe you’re just too spaced out, because he sneaks up on you and pins you to the wall. Once more you look up at him with those big shiny eyes that make his stomach feel tingly, and maybe this time you’ll let him get closer…

Again, all he’s offered is baseless hostility, even in exchange for his name. You’re slipping through his fingers, at one moment being trapped between his arms, between his body and the wall, and in the next walking away. Not bothering to introduce yourself. Not sparing him even a glance.

***

Suna has another problem and this one is more urgent - he’s failing a class. In a sense, it’s his own fault for being late or even completely missing it. In his defense, it was in the morning, it was boring and unnecessary in his life, and he had so much other stuff to do. He can’t let it hold him back, not when he’s so close to being free.

The teacher was kind enough to give him a piece of paper containing the name and available hours of his potential saviour. Such a drag, he thinks but still walks towards the classroom where his tutor should be. Two knocks on the doorframe, but the girl inside is still turned back.

“Excuse me, I’m here for tutoring?”

His heart is hammering in his chest when the person turns towards him and it’s… you.

The weather is nice, it’s not hot despite the sun shining brightly, the cloudless sky has the most beautiful shade of blue. Gentle breeze rustles the leaves, birds chirp a song only they know. You can only admire it all from the window, having agreed to rescuing those in educational need.

You don’t mind, not really, as long as they put in some effort. There are some who just come and demand, those who don’t listen and claim to not understand anything later. You hope your next case won’t be one of these.

A deep voice brings you back to reality, a voice so familiar that it gives you goosebumps. You turn to look at your new student and for a second you think that if a headache had a human form, it would be him.

***

“Why do you hate me so much?”

The boy in front of you still stares at the problem at hand, spinning a pen between his fingers. You sigh.

“This is not a subject of our meetings.”

Now his olive eyes are focused on you, awaiting an answer he isn’t going to receive. You have no intention of entertaining this attempt at whatever it is.

“I’m not as bad as you think.”

“Why do you even care what I think?”

Rin only shrugs.

“Okay, could you please help me with this? I’m stuck.”

***

Contrary to your idea, Suna isn’t a hopeless case. He understands things quickly, without the need of repeating the same explanations over and over again. What bothers you is the amount of material you have to go through, because of his absences. With test retakes approaching quickly, you meet for sessions twice a week.

There isn’t much off-topic chatter, the scribbling of pen on paper being the only sound filling the room in between his questions. It’s comfortable and effective, and soon you feel at ease in his company.

In the third week of project “Ace the test”, as you jokingly call it, Rintarou greets you with a range of differently flavoured jelly sticks.

“You can take all of them, or just the ones you like.” He explains seeing your confusion.

“Why?”

“Because you’re staying after hours for me, and I don’t know how to repay you.”

You blush as you mumble “simple thank you would have been enough”, but in the end reach for three that taste like your favourite fruits. Suna smiles and commits your choice to his memory.

After that the boy makes sure to bring something in one of those flavours to your meetings - yoghurts, juices, chocolate bars with fillings, everything he could find. It would be a lie if you said you didn’t appreciate the gesture; it was sweet of him to bring you something as a compensation for your time and efforts.

It’s even cuter when on one particularly rough day after seeing your stressed frown, he dumps a whole bag on the desk. Upon opening you discover that it’s filled with your best-loved snacks; he must have been observing you closely and the realisation turns your cheeks into little furnaces.

There’s no way you can keep ignoring him now, and starting with the next day, you greet him with a small smile and a blush when you pass each other in the halls.

Rin is surprised at how easily the solutions come to his head after your little lectures. You have a way with words, your directions are simple and engaging, and he’s sure he wouldn’t have missed a single class if you were the teacher. He wonders if this is your plan for the future.

One of the discoveries he makes, partially by accident, is that you like silence; at least with a task like this at hand. Suna isn’t talkative which makes it easier, and the more he focuses on modules, the less tense you seem to be. Bingo.

Social interactions are usually tiring and Rintarou doesn’t bother with exhausting things. He prefers observing from the sidelines, watching the gestures and reactions they cause. Food, the boy realises, brings the most smiles. But since he doesn’t know your preferences at all, he’s going to start with what he’s familiar with.

Success has many faces. In this case, success has your blushing face as you grab jelly sticks he brought for you. Suna makes sure to remember which one you chose, and to always have something in one of those flavours. If this is how he wins you over, he doesn’t mind spending his precious energy. Especially not when you warm up enough to stop running away.

taglist: @kageyamas-love @mikasbloodbag

[matbarzyy]

Must Have Been The Wind [A.B.]

A/N: Soooo my requests are closed but I still get some and an anon sent me a good one that stuck in my brain and I ended up actually writing it anyway lol. I’ll link the post here once I’m not too tired to look for it again. Anyway, this is based off a song by Alec Benjamin, enjoy.

Word count: 2755

Warnings: Abusive boyfriend

.

“What the hell?” Anthony mumbled to himself and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

The loud noise that had woken him up echoed through the building again. It was glass shattering. Whatever was going on, it was happening in the apartment above his. The digital clock on his bedside table shone dark red numbers that read 3:05, and he groaned as he pushed the covers off his body and sat up.

At first, Anthony thought someone might have dropped glasses or plates, but the sound was much louder. It wasn’t an object being dropped, it was something being thrown. Knowing he wouldn’t get back to sleep immediately, Anthony got up and yawned on his way to the kitchen. A dim light was still on, he had forgotten to turn it off before going to bed, but now he was thankful he could see the layout of his unfamiliar apartment.

He was renting the place even though he had just bought a brand new apartment that was at least twice as big. The day he sold his old place, a water leak and gas problem arose in his new building. For a moment, Anthony had thought he was cursed, but with some help he managed to find this place to rent and he didn’t even have to spend a night in a hotel.

It was a temporary solution, so he was okay with having only two bedrooms and a rather small kitchen. It wasn’t like he’d have his family coming over any time soon. Maybe the neighbours were a little crazy breaking stuff at ungodly hours, but with a glass of water and ear plugs Anthony would get right back to sleep.

He stopped dead in his tracks when the sound of glass shattering was replaced by a cry. His glass got abandoned on the kitchen counter while he tiptoed to his front door, trying to catch any other noise.

The voices turned clearer as the yelling grew louder, it wasn’t enough for Anthony to understand what they were saying, but he could tell there was a girl crying while arguing with a man. There was no way he could go back to bed now. What was he supposed to do?

Should he try to go up there? Was calling the police a better idea?

His dilemma ended when a door slammed upstairs. Quickly, Anthony glued his eye to the peephole to see anyone that might walk past his door. This cursed building didn’t have an elevator, so if someone was leaving he’d see them. The light in the corridor was off, but with the moon shining bright outside it wasn’t completely dark.

As the stomping of feet got closer he caught the silhouette of a man heading out. A minute later, the sound had faded and the entrance door had slammed shut with the noise Anthony was getting accustomed to.

He stepped back and grabbed a hoodie from his bedroom, pulling it over his head to hide his bare chest. Dressed in a little more than just sweatpants, he hurried to find shoes, grabbed his keys, and slipped out of his apartment.

When he got to the second floor the faint sound of a girl crying directed him to the right door. He lifted his hand to knock but hesitated for a second. What if he got the wrong place and bothered someone at three in the morning?

Deciding that someone’s safety was more important than getting in trouble with his neighbours, Anthony quickly shook his head and gave the door a couple of loud knocks. He heard shuffling on the other side, followed by footsteps, and eventually a slight creak.

“Can I help you?” The girl opened the door just a crack.

She had a sweater zipped up all the way to her chin, and her eyes were a little swollen, but in the darkness it was hard to tell she was crying for sure. Her voice seemed steady enough as far as Anthony could tell from that short sentence.

“Hi, sorry, um I know it’s super late,” he shuffled from one foot to the other nervously. If only he had thought about what to say before knocking. “I’m Anthony, I live right downstairs, I just heard some noise and stuff… I wanted to make sure everything’s okay?”

“Uh, yeah? I didn’t hear a thing, sorry,” the girl pulled the sleeves of her sweater down to cover her hands.

“Could have sworn it came from up here,” he played dumb to insist a little more, but she was quick to shut him down.

“Must have been the wind or something,” she shrugged. “Thanks, I guess, but uh, I should go,”

“Right, yeah, sorry I bothered you,” he murmured and stepped back before she quietly closed the door.

Anthony didn’t get a minute of sleep that night. Mat chirped him for his slow reactions when he practiced in the morning, but he had bigger things to worry about. Was that girl really okay? Or did she just tell him lies so that he wouldn’t intrude?

None of it sat right with him, but he was limited in his options, so he promised himself he’d keep an eye out for her as much as he could.

.

A week passed before anything happened again.

Anthony was on his way home from a game, still dressed in his game day suit and ready to crash into his bed. Even the adrenalin of the win couldn’t keep him up for much longer. He was half asleep as he walked up to the building, his keys out to get through the main entrance. Now that he had cooled off, his legs ached and he almost groaned at the thought of the stairs.

“Two more weeks,” he muttered to himself.

He was about to continue complaining out loud to himself when he spotted her. If he had paid attention he would have noticed the couple arguing way earlier. The man had a tight grip on her forearm, and he didn’t even notice the way her eyes flickered over to Anthony as he continued speaking.

“I told you not to fucking-”

“Everything okay?” Anthony spoke up loudly enough to startle the man.

“Mind your fucking business.” He turned around, but the hockey player was taller and obviously stronger, so he didn’t even look at him.

Instead, he stared at his upstairs neighbour and waited for her to answer.

“Fine,” she rubbed her forearm, soothing the red skin. He nodded in response but didn’t make a move, his bag still hanging over his shoulder.

“We’re not done.” The other man grumbled when he saw Anthony had no intention of walking up to his apartment until they moved too.

He stomped out, the noise matching what had resonated in the corridor the first night Anthony heard them fight.

“So, am I at least going to get your name?” He walked towards the stairs with her, letting her walk up first.

“Carrie,” she told him, taking the stairs two at a time. Anthony cursed in his head as he kept up with her, his legs burning from all the skating and a nasty fall.

“Well Carrie, if you ever need anything, I live right here, okay?” He motioned towards his door and she nodded.

“Thanks,” she glanced down at the floor as she said it, not even waiting for his reply before dashing for the stairs and heading back to her own place.

.

The next morning was nice for Anthony. The weather was beautiful, he didn’t have practice, and all he had to do was go for a walk and get himself a nice coffee to enjoy his day off. The park near his building was a little crowded, it was a Saturday after all, families walked with kids running back and forth, people walked their dogs, others jogged.

The little kiosk at one of the intersections didn’t look like much, but Anthony had found out the day he had to move here that their coffee was some of the best in the city.

Carrie seemed to know that too, because he spotted her a few feet away on one of the benches. She was alone, taking in the way the sun shone through branches and onto the grass.

“Can I sit?” Anthony asked, and she looked up at him.

“Sure,” She slid over to make space on the bench.

“I don’t mean to overstep,” he began while racking his brain for the right thing to say. “And I don’t need to know whatever it was that happened when I heard that noise, or what was going on last night, but if you ever need absolutely anything, my door’s always open for you.”

“It’s fine I swear, he’s not as bad as it seems,” Carrie dismissed him and he scoffed.

“Well not as bad doesn’t mean ‘not bad’ so even if you just need a friend or whatever, I’m around,” he reiterated to make sure she wouldn’t hesitate if she was ever ready to ask for help.

“Thanks, Anthony,” she felt the corner of her lips itch to curl up while he leaned back.

“Not running away today?” He took in the people moving in front of them, resting his paper cup on his thigh.

“Not today,” Carrie smiled and took another sip of her coffee.

.

Only one more week before Anthony could move out.

Some of his things were still packed, a few boxes were stored in his garage in his new building, others were stacked in his spare bedroom and the rest would have to be repacked this weekend for him to finally vacate this apartment. He was excited to settle into his new place, he was somehow enjoying the whole decorating thing.

The only thing that bothered him was leaving Carrie. What was he supposed to do, leave her there and never come back? He couldn’t just turn his back with what he knew. She was the only thing on his mind day and night. Anthony couldn’t remember his dreams in the morning, but he was often convinced they had been about her.

The one thing that definitely wasn’t a dream was the loud knock on his door that night. 4:32am. It had to be Carrie.

Anthony jumped to his feet with a groan and rushed out of his bedroom. “Fuck,” he cursed as he slammed his shoulder into the door frame, not slowing down for a second until he reached the front door.

He threw it open and Carrie stumbled in, shaking and sniffling. Her arms were wrapped around herself and she hurried to make sure the door was closed.

“What happened?” Anthony’s eyes widened when he took in her panicked state. She barely looked up at him and cried harder, so he realised now wasn’t the time for questions. “Hey, hey come here,” he pulled her closer and wrapped his arms around her. “You’re safe, it’s okay, you’re safe here.”

Carried leaned against his chest, biting her lip and shaking with quiet sobs. Her whole body was trembling, Anthony was the only reason she was standing, so he slowly walked over to the couch with her in his arms and sat down. He had managed to hit a light switch on his way to make a warm light illuminate the living room.

“Sorry, it’s so late,” she eventually whispered, but he pulled away and shook his head.

“Don’t apo-” Anthony started but cut himself off when he got a good look at her face. “What happened?” His tone was nowhere near soft this time, his jaw was clenched and he was ready to run up the stairs to break her boyfriend’s face.

A purple bruise was blooming on her cheekbone, and the skin had split so a little bit of blood seeped out of the wound.

“I-” Carrie tried to talk, but another sob shook her chest and she looked down instead, hiding herself.

“Carrie…” he reached out for her hands. “Did he do this?”

“Yes,” her answer was barely above a murmur, and he took a deep breath to calm down.

“Let me take a look,” he cupped the uninjured side of her face and guided her to tilt her head until the light hit the forming bruise on her cheekbone. “I’ll find something to put on that, okay?” Anthony dropped his hands and she avoided his eyes.

He found everything he’d need in his bathroom pretty easily. He was used to being injured, so he came back to the living room with a cream for the bruise and an ice pack.

“Tell me if it hurts too much,” He said as he sat next to her and pushed a little bit of the product out on the tip of his fingers.

Careful not to press too hard, Anthony rubbed it over the bruise and made sure it was mostly absorbed before holding the ice pack to her face. It wouldn’t really ease the pain but it would at least reduce the swelling.

“I got it,” Carrie took it from him to keep it to her cheek.

“Okay, you need anything else?” He let her gather her knees up to her chest, resisting the urge to pull her into a hug again. He wished he knew how to comfort her, but she clearly needed her space.

“I’m okay, thank you,” she shook her head no and focused on slowing her breathing. It was hard with the mess in her head after everything that happened. She felt weak and pathetic, she had never been so vulnerable in front of someone, and maybe it was time she opened up but she couldn’t bring herself to say anything more.

“Is he still upstairs?” Anthony probed, trying to figure out what to do, at least for the immediate future.

“Probably,” Carrie shrugged, wiping tears out of her eyes.

“You can stay the night, I’ve got a spare bedroom.” He offered, written worry all over his face when she glanced up at him.

“I don’t want to be a burden to you,” she turned him down, but he wouldn’t let her leave when she wouldn’t be safe.

“Stop that,” he nudged her foot gently. “I’m not going to let you go back up there, just stay. Do you want tea? Chamomile is good for sleep,”

“Um, yeah, please,” Carrie gave in with a sigh. There was no point in fighting him, and deep down she knew he was right. Now that she had woken him she couldn’t leave and just let him worry.

“Be right back,” He put a hand on her knee as he got up and went to boil some water.

When he came back with both steaming mugs, Carrie had helped herself to the tissues on his coffee table to dry her tears and it looked like she had calmed down a little.

“Careful it’s really hot,” Anthony set the mug down in front of her.

“Thank you.”

They sat in silence after that. Anthony was done pushing, she was next to him and he was keeping her safe, he didn’t need more than that. The night had been traumatic enough for Carrie, so he didn’t want to add to it.

Small sips of burning liquid eventually turned to larger gulps of warm tea until both mugs sat empty on the table. Carrie had stopped shaking, and the heat of her drink had helped her warm up. The ice pack was mostly melted against her cheek now, but it was still cool and her cheek was burning underneath it.

“Wanna go to bed?” Anthony eventually whispered, pulling her out of her thoughts. She stopped staring at the black screen of the TV to turn to him, nodding slightly.

The bed in the guest room was made, and the sheets still smelled like fresh laundry. Anthony looked into the mostly empty closet for a few things, and while Carrie slid under the covers he brought an extra blanket to lay on top of it.

She settled quietly, curled for extra warmth while the melted ice pack sat on the nightstand. Anthony took it as his cue to leave, but he stopped once he reached the door.

“Carrie?” He turned to look at her, a hand on the door knob.

“Yeah?” She wondered what else he was going to say, and her heart warmed when she heard his words spoken with unwavering certainty.

“I don’t care what I have to do, but I’m not going to let that happen again.”

.

Please reblog and leave some feedback!!

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Shaw’s S2 R&S - Glacier Navigation

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a Rumours & Secrets, 冰川行舟, which has not been released in EN! 🍒

This R&S features S2 Shaw

In terms of sequencing, this is Shaw’s first S2 R&S!

[ Chapter One ]

On this rare break, a phone call from Shaw brings me to the entrance of Loveland University.

At the school gate, a huge “Welcome New Students" banner waves in the wind. The osmanthus petals at my feet exude the unique scent of late summer and early autumn.

I follow Shaw through the bustling crowd and towards the graduate student registration point.

MC: The registration office... this should be it.

Shaw: Are you sure it's here? Just look at these registering students - how do they look like graduate students?

MC: You’re clearly the one who doesn’t look like a graduate student, okay?

Shaw glances at the long line outside the door of the office. Clicking his tongue, he eventually stands at the back properly.

Not having to wait for long, the both of us reach the head of the line.

MC: You don't need me to accompany you for the registration, do you?

Shaw: What are you thinking? Are you treating me like a kid?

MC: Then why did you drag me along to school...

Shaw: I just took you out for a breather after seeing you squatting at home for a few weeks.

He waves his hand at me in self-assurance, turning his head and entering the office.

I lean against the wall, waiting for him. As soon as I take out my phone, the tall figure walks out of the office fiercely.

MC: ...how did you settle it so quickly?

Shaw doesn’t respond. He suddenly leans forward, his eyes almost within reach. His half-squinting eyes contain slight irritation.

MC: W-what do you want... Ah! Don't touch my hair!

I raise my hand to protect my hair, but my cheek ends up getting pinched twice by two of his fingers.

Shaw: This is your punishment for leading me to the wrong place.

MC: No way, we really went to the wrong place?

Shaw: This is the registration point for the Chinese Department. The Archaeology Department is in Zhi Hua Building.

MC: Zhi Hua Building... I remember now. I think we passed by it earlier.

Shaw: Really?

Knowing that I was in the wrong, I quickly lift both my hands up as a guarantee.

MC: Really, I definitely won’t be wrong this time!

Shaw: Fine, I’ll reluctantly believe you this time. The last time.

-

[ Chapter Two ]

Since heading to the wrong place led to quite a delay, the door to the registration office of the Department of Archaeology is completely empty.

Shaw knocks on the office door. Inside, there’s only one middle-aged teacher who is currently reading the newspaper.

Teacher: A freshman? Come, fill in this form. Did you bring a copy of your ID card? If you didn’t bring it, give me the original. I'll make a copy for you.

Shaw: I brought it.

Teacher: What about the one-inch photo?

Shaw: Here.

Teacher: Oh, the boy's ID photo is so handsome! Sit for a while, I have to make a record.

Shaw: Mm, thanks for the hard work, teacher.

The teacher sits in front of the computer leisurely, then casts a curious glance at the door.

Teacher: Is that young lady outside your girlfriend?

Shaw: No.

Shaw pauses, then adds on.

Shaw: Just a friend.

Teacher: Oh... I understand~

The middle-aged man reveals a meaningful smile, and can’t help but gesture at the young man in front of him

Teacher: Young people have to be braver. How can a boy be so shy!

Shaw suppresses the urge to roll his eyes, squeezing out words one by one from between his teeth.

Shaw: Teacher, are you done with the registration?

[Note] There are different ways of saying “you” in Chinese, depending on formality! When being polite and respectful, especially to an elder, 您 (“nin”) is used. When talking to friends or someone younger, 你 (“ni”) is used. SHAW USES 您 HERE BECAUSE HE IS A POLITE BOY

Teacher: Yes yes, sign here. There’s one more thing I have to tell you. Because you filled in your identity as an Evolver on the form, I’ll have to trouble you to submit a copy of the Evol inspection report.

Shaw: The notice didn’t mention that I had to bring it.

Teacher: It’s a new requirement. It conveniences the school in terms of management, so I hope you can understand. Last semester, an Evolver lost control of his ability and almost lifted the entire classroom. The STF were called down for a day, and it was very troublesome. 

When he hears the term “STF”, Shaw’s expression stirs slightly. Then, he clicks his tongue impatiently.

Shaw: So troublesome...

Teacher: What did you say?

Shaw: Nothing. Can I hand it in another day?

Teacher: It's fine, just come back within five working days. Here, your notice.

Shaw: Thanks.

-

[ Chapter Three ]

Schoolmate A: Schoolmate, want to check out our e-sports club? We organise competitions every month, and you can receive exquisite merchandise!

Schoolmate B: Schoolmate, come take a look at our basketball club! Handsome guys and beautiful girls gather and keep fit...

Today happens to be the club recruitment day. When Shaw and I pass by the public square, students constantly stop us, asking if we wish to join their clubs.

I look at Shaw curiously, but he doesn’t seem to be interested in any clubs. He walks quickly, not even giving them a glance.

When we’re about to leave the public square, we are once again stopped by a student.

Schoolmate C: Schoolmates, I can tell at a glance that you’re both from the Arts Department, right? Tsk tsk, your outfits have such an artistic quality. I’m from the rock club of our school. Even though the club was only established this year, I believe we have great potential! Usually, the club will organise activities introducing various instruments and music appreciation for hobbyists. Our club president even formed a band himself! They’re performing over there. Do you two want to have a listen?

I initially thought that Shaw would once again ignore him and leave. Unexpectedly, he suddenly stops in his footsteps, then arches his eyebrows with interest.

Shaw: Oh? You guys have a band?

Schoolmate C: Of course! We don't do covers. They’re all original songs!

Shaw: Let’s have a listen then.

MC: Do you actually want to join this rock club?

Shaw: We’ll talk after listening.

After saying this, he walks towards the area surrounded by a cluster of people.

The venue is simple, but there’s a sizeable number of audience members. The band members in the middle are wagging their heads while performing a song.

The vocals are discordant, and the sound quality is inferior. I’m unable to hear the lyrics clearly, but the melody is really catchy.

MC: I didn't expect them to look like an actual band... Shaw?

Shaw: ...tch.

Shaw grabs my arm, leaving the scene without saying a word.

MC: What’s wrong?

Shaw: Hearing plagiarised songs dirties my ears.

MC: That song from before was plagiarised?!

Shaw: They copied an unpopular old song from the 80s. No wonder these people didn’t realise it. You should also improve your musical literacy so you wouldn’t be confused by copied songs.

MC: So what you mean is... I should listen to your band’s songs more?

Shaw: Of course.

I burst out laughing, and Shaw raises his eyebrows in dissatisfaction.

Shaw: What are you laughing at?

MC: No, no, I just think that you’ve always been very serious about your band...

Shaw: You seem pretty concerned about my band?

MC: Mm. I know that you really like this band.

Shaw glances at me, as though verifying the sincerity of my words.

Then, he turns his gaze away, and sunlight touches the corners of his sharp and slightly raised mouth.

Shaw: Even if it’s just for fun, I’ll do even better than everyone else.

He says these words matter-of-factly, as though so long as he’s willing, every difficulty can be stamped out by him.

Shaw takes a final look back at the noisy public square. Retrieving a pair of earphones from his pocket, he hands it to me.

Shaw: Wear it properly. I’ll let you listen to truly good music.

-

[ Chapter Four ]

Shaw: Let’s go. Also, we’ll stop by the supermarket along the way. I’m buying some daily necessities.

MC: I really couldn’t tell that you’d be willing to stay in a dormitory.

Shaw: Who said so? I don’t plan to stay in a dormitory.

MC: Huh?

Shaw: I never stay with outsiders. 

Shaw: Anyway, there’s a small room in Live House, and I plan to live there. Rehearsals will be convenient too.

MC: Oh... but your place is really too empty. Aside from a bed, it doesn't look liveable.

Shaw: Hm? How’d you know that my place is empty?

MC: I...

I bite my tongue, hurriedly tossing out a reason to muddle through it.

MC: I don’t even have to think about it to know. Judging by your personality, your house definitely has nothing but bare walls.

Probably because of my self-assured tone, Shaw retracts his scrutinising gaze, pursing his lips. 

Shaw: That’s not how you use “nothing but bare walls”. Did you even pay attention in school... Let’s go.”

[Note] The reason why Shaw says this is because what MC used was 家徒四壁 (“jia tou si bi”), which is an idiom literally translating to “nothing but bare walls”. However, this idiom is supposed to describe someone who is very poor!

Shaw has always been very proactive. When he finishes speaking, he quickly takes me to the nearest supermarket from school.

After a short while, the shopping cart is stuffed to the brim.

Shaw: ...wait. I asked you to get a washbowl for me. Why’d you get me three? Do you need to use three washbasins to wash your face every day?

MC: These three washbasins have their respective uses! This one is for washing your face, this one is for washing your body, this one...”

Shaw: Washes what?

MC: Fruits!

Shaw: So troublesome. I might as well buy fruits that I can eat directly without washing.

MC: This is a refined life, okay? If you think it’s too much, then I'll reduce... Hey, what did you put into the cart?

Shaw: Daily necessities.

Lowering my head to take a look, I see three boxes of animal-shaped clothes hangers. The chubby little animals have their cheeks puffed out, lying in the washbowls I’m buying.

MC: Wow, so cute! You’re quite good at picking things too! ...but why are you buying three boxes?

Shaw: I learnt from you. One box for clipping towels, one box for clipping clothes, and one box...

MC: Huh?

Shaw doesn’t finish the second half of the sentence, and I subconsciously look up at him, meeting his sly eyes.

Shaw: Since you came out to run errands today, I’ll give it to you.

-

Shaw leans against the door of Live House, quietly watching the taxi drown in the neon glow. Suddenly, the phone in his pocket vibrates slightly.

An unknown number appears on the screen. Shaw frowns, then lifts his hand to tap the answer button.

?: I heard you reported to school today?

Shaw: Looks like you guys are really free. You even have to bother about my enrolment in school?

?: How is it? Is everything going smoothly?

Shaw: It’s fine. Some situations cropped up, but I’m still in a pretty good mood. Also, you guys have to help me with something. The school wants me to submit an Evol inspection report. Forge one for me.

?: No problem. You can collect it from the usual place. Is there anything unusual about Nox from BS recently?

Hearing this alias, Shaw subconsciously glances into the distance. However, all that is visible is the gorgeous night of the city.

Shaw: She's been very busy recently, and seems to keep working overtime. That's it.

?: You know that’s not what we’re asking about.

Shaw: ...what’s the rush? I haven't finished investigating what you guys want to know.

?: Let me remind you not to mix in unnecessary emotions. Don't forget your mission either.

Shaw: I know. I'm hanging up.

The streetlights lining the long street light up in succession, dyeing Shaw’s hair in a warm colour.

He looks at the phone for a long time, and an untamed smile surfaces on the corners of his lips.

Shaw: I have the final say on how to deal with her.

He takes the long skateboard he had set by the side, lifts his ankle slightly, and skates into the night without hesitation.

More from S2: here

[yeojaa]

stages: rise (with me).

[ read part one ] 

pairing.  jjk x f!reader.  rating.  mature.  tags.  alluded/referenced drug use (please be responsible).  they take an innocent shower together.  wc.  1.7k.  beta reader.  @hobi-gif​ @coepiteamare​ i love y’all.  author note.  jungkook’s rave journey continues. 🤠  soundtrack.  songs to comedown to:  hold me close (climax).

They say you never forget your first time.  They’d be right.

You haven’t left Jungkook’s mind - framed perfectly in the centre of his thoughts, lovely with your star-speckled cheeks, the glitter in your hair.  Mona Lisa but so much more, printed to the backs of his eyelids, picture perfect in neon light and stardust.  He misses you often, despite the fact he always sees you at things like this.  Spies you dancing in a kaleidoscope of colour, made glow-in-the-dark by the appliques on your chest, the rubber toe of your sneakers.  You move as if the music lives in you, as if there’s nothing in the world but the melody. 

It’s easy to get lost in the sway of your hips, the rhythm of your body when the stage erupts in colour and the bass drops.  It captures all of his attention, has him staring like a fool in love, utterly unable to do anything but stop and admire.

God, you’re beautiful.  

His heart stutters in his chest, nearly falling out of the cavity when you catch him in the act, raise a hand and offer the sweetest wave.

There’s a sea of people between you - two dozen writhing bodies - and all he can see is you.  The shape of your smile when he returns the gesture, palms sweaty, pulse racing like a thunderclap.  How the simple expression feels like an explosion of stardust, illuminating everything around you.  (It’s definitely not just the light show.  It’s all you.)

He wonders whether it’ll always be like this - whether the pieces of you will forever be wedged into his heart, little splinters of affection built up like scar tissue.  Whether they’ll ache on days like today, where you’re too far and he’s left to orbit you, caught in your gravitational pull with no hope of escape.  If the scent of strawberries and sugar will remind him of you until he’s old and grey, still hung up on the pretty girl that’d saved him from a meltdown, because no one’s ever felt the way you do. 

“Kook, you good?”  He hears the question, feels the words bounce around in his skull.  Everything’s clearer than it was that first time.  His head’s not under water and he’s not drowning.

(But he wouldn’t mind if it was your voice that called him to sea.  He’d wade a hundred, thousand, million miles for you.  Get swept away by the waves just to hear your voice once more.  It’d be a good way to go.  The best, he thinks.)

“Y-yeah?”  There’s still a haze - a faint fuzziness at the edges of his conscience.  Cotton candy floss that spins everything in circles, sugar-spun particles aching his jaw when he zones out just a little too much, knuckles blown white, water bottle in his hand eviscerated. 

It takes a concerted effort to refocus his attention.  He wants so badly to keep watching, admiring, wanting.

Mischief is palpable, three heavy lines of red striking through syllables.  A new challenger appears in the form of another bottle, lidless and so close it makes Jungkook’s jaw ache in anticipation.  “Want some more?” 

Did he?  Of course.  He can’t have the thing he’s been craving for months;  this will have to do.

“Careful, baby boy.”  You’re suddenly there, right in front of him.  So close he could touch you, smelling like berries and cream and smiling brighter than the sun.  (He swears he might go blind, doesn’t mind when the rays are so warm.)

All at once, he’s shaking all over, limbs loose, foot bouncing.  Stop it, he tells himself, worries for the state of his joints because he thinks he might topple over any minute now.  That there’s nothing he can do to save himself from the sound of your laugh, the way your eyes glow with the strobe of the overhead lights.

He remembers how you held his hand last time, laying in the strange bed wrapped up in your arms.  Your voice static in his ears, cotton threads in the quiet, stretching on and on until he’d fallen asleep.  How you hadn’t left, not once, not even when he’d been burning up, white hot heat tearing through him, sweat pouring from his brow.  

You’d stayed all night, soothed the tremor of his bones.  Promised him things would be okay.  And they were.

The ordeal had left him raw and aching and tired, all the weight of the world carried in the bags under his eyes.  A walking skeleton, nothing but a bag of bones when he’d groaned awake, tripped alive out of his slumber.  But you’d put him back together, glued each piece with nothing but honey and molasses, thick and heavy and so sweet.  Cooed a sweet good morning at two in the afternoon, stamped the shape of your tenderness into his skin and melted tension away with just one caramel-coated smile.

“Hi,”  he says, stutters, hoarse as hell.  Eager as hell.  In love as hell.

(He’s never felt like this before.  Not then.  This is better.  You’re not a mirage in the desert, a vibrating silhouette brought to life by a lightshow.  You’re you!  You’re here.)

“How much have you had?”  

Anyone else, it might be condescending.  But not you.  You’re smiling at him still, reaching too, and he thinks he’s okay - that he’s in control this time.  Realises he’s wrong when he’s leaning too close, falling into the small of your palm, laughing along with you when he nearly topples you both over.

You smell like strawberries and home;  he inhales like you’re spring.

“Not as much as last time.”  Which was to say, just enough.  Not so much he’s a mess, unable to control the rattle of his teeth or the tingling in his fingers.  One cap.  A double.  Nothing outrageous.  Jungkook was smart this time - had finally learned his lesson.

But god, if he doesn’t want to be back where he was that first time with you.  Out of his mind, held together by your touch, seams strung tight by your hands.  That’d be better.

“Good boy.”  Your voice is all of his favourite songs, twinkling in his ears, making his head spin.  It’s all he hears.  The thing in his chest wobbles uncertainly and then so do his knees;  you catch him against your side, hold him together with fingers along his side, fingers replacing the rungs of his ribs.  

He hopes you’ll stay.

It’s easy to get lost in you, distracted by your hand in his, the shade of your smile when you look over your shoulder.  How you fit in his arms, settled like a familiar weight in his lap, curled against his chest.  He’s burning up again - a furnace on a summer night, beaded in sweat and hair sticky.  You don’t care.  You cling to him, run your fingers through his hair.

He swears he’s falling in love, giddy, over the moon, high in the sky with no hopes of coming down.

(But he is.  He can feel the slow-coming clarity, the tremor that dies to a bare tremble when you’re close by.  Your presence medicates him and he doesn’t mind;  you’re angel food cake and lemon tart, not sickly sweet syrup.)

When you guide him into the bathroom, lights off, bumbling about in the dark, it doesn’t matter.  You’re lit up in every colour of the rainbow, Polaris centred in your chest, guiding him home.  He follows without hesitation, crowds you against the sink and giggles to himself when you comb through the sweat-slick tangle plastered to his forehead.

He’s burning up but you cool him down, soothe the ache in his chest when it stutters again and cries out for you.  A salve for his wounds - all the things he doesn’t think about, that sit just beneath the surface and beg for attention.

“Are you okay?”  You ask and he’s barely paying attention to the words, every ounce of focus where it should be:  on you and all your glory.  Each sliver of skin that reveals itself in the darkness.  So pretty he could cry, so soft he swears he’s got velvet in his hands and not your hips.  Picture perfect.  

He says yes but he means no, because how can he be okay when he’s with you.  When you’re pulling him into the glass-walled shower, warm despite the cold water, fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle.  When you push his hair back and coo a noise that hits him twice - once in the gut and once smack dab in the centre of his chest.  When you’re working out the knots, untangling all the fucked up parts of him with the gentlest motions.  

(Of course Jungkook’s thinking too much, putting too much meaning into how careful you hold him, cradle him like precious glass, unafraid of the broken edges.)

(He can’t help it, though.  Can’t can’t can’t.)

(Wants you too much, wants this too much.  God, save him.)

“Relax,”  you tell him, saccharine and safe, kissing him like you need him just as badly.  There’s a fire lit in the bottom of his chest, a roaring inferno he has no control over.  It dissolves every part of him, turns him to jelly as he melts against you and takes everything you’ll give.

Please, he thinks.

He hasn’t said the words out loud - too afraid, scared of what might come if they slip past his cage of teeth - but you answer all the same, hold him closer, assure him with measured strokes of your hands over the uncertainty he wears like armour.  Sweep it from his shoulders with twists of your fingers and an adoring laugh.  Make him vulnerable and weak and and and—

He doesn’t care.  

Maybe it’s the comedown or maybe it’s you.  It cracks his rib cage in half, splits him wide open, and he doesn’t think twice when you reach in, settle alongside his heart, and make a home. 

tag list.  @neverthefirstchoice​ @youwannabelostandnotbefound​ @codeinebelle​​ @outrofenty​ 

[apprentice-maliya]

the things you don’t say, i’ll make them mine

pairing: asra/mali’ya cw: none, just some pre-plague, light angst and fluff because i am self-indulgent and i missed them. also stargazing (kinda). enjoy ! word count: 2.2k song(s): lover and the archer by taylor swift

With a snap of Asra’s fingers, the candles in the shop lit up all at once. The sudden light was almost blinding in their eyes, still used to the dark shades of the storm hovering above the city that merged into the soft, pink and orange hues of sundown. Behind him, Mali’ya sealed the door with a spell so that the rain wouldn’t get in, leaving at least the shop alone and dry.

The golden mark was still glowing on the wooden surface when she turned to her friend, pleased to see that he had already put the bags in a corner where they wouldn’t bother them. In the meantime, Faust had slowly emerged from the worn-out scarf he was wearing, and was now taking a careful peek at her surroundings.

Asra laughed, shaking his head to let the raindrops fall away from his white curls. “That was close.”

“Please don’t do that,” Mali’ya said, though she was soon betrayed by her own amusement when a small smile appeared on her lips. She gladly accepted Asra’s hands holding hers, shivering when the heat coming from his warming spell dried out any trace of damp in her clothes and her hair as well. Once he was done, Mali’ya sighed in relief.

“We should clean up,” she suggested, taking off her shoes since, in the hurry of getting inside and taking refuge from the storm, she’d forgotten to. “I’m sure we left some mud when we walked in.”

Asra waved a hand as to dismiss the option. “Or we could get away with it with little to no effort,” he suggested before the stains disappeared from the blue-coloured tiles with another snap of fingers, as if they’d never been there in the first place.

He rubbed his hands one against the other, giving her a satisfied look. “Easy peasy, right?” Asra grinned. “Now, let’s set up camp for the night.”

Mali’ya stared at the floor—she still wasn’t that accustomed to using magic to solve even the smallest inconvenience, and it showed—but upon hearing that, she glanced at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Rummaging in their bags as he was probably searching for their blankets, Asra shrugged. “Seems like a waste of a lovely night to me, don’t you think?”

She could tell he was smiling while saying that, still Mali’ya hesitated. It wasn’t like she didn’t appreciate the idea; on the contrary, she was eager to see what Asra had in store for her with that change of plans. After all, aside from the couple of nights she’d slept in the wild, on the run to Vesuvia with her aunt and her girlfriend, Mali’ya had no idea what camping really implied: Asra had told her about gathering your own food, sharing stories around the fireplace and stargazing as though it was nothing out of the ordinary for him, and, in hindsight, Mali’ya now realised that wasn’t but his everyday life. The life of someone who had nothing else in the world but himself.

In comparison, the years she’d spent in Venterre were a walk in the park.

Would you like to come live with me?

Her lips parted without her thinking. Once, almost a year back from that moment―a lifetime, really―her aunt had asked her that same, exact question. For the first time someone had brought up the possibility for her to dream, provided the instruments for her to make her own choices, and there she was, months later, living her happiest days in a place she’d learnt to call home.

All of that because at some point, someone cared.

It was truly that simple.

I could ask him now.

“Besides,” Asra added, silently commanding one end of a jute string to tie itself around the knob of the backroom door, before he pointed his digits towards the entrance handle for the other end to do the same, “I wanted to show you some cool tricks.”

Mali’ya watched as he tossed a sheet over the tensed thread, thinking that they definitely needed something heavy to secure the cloth on the floor if they wanted something close to a tent-shaped, homemade fort, or even one of her bedsheets so it would be easier to make it wider and more comfortable for the two of them.

All things considered, there was enough space in her room for another bed.

Finally, she spoke. “We should ask aunt—”

A voice coming down from the stairs interrupted her mid-sentence, before the thin silhouette of her tutor, neatly wrapped up in her frilly pink housecoat, appeared on the landing. “Ask me what?” She inquired, throwing them an inquisitive though sleepy glance.

“Sorry for waking you.” Mali’ya immediately apologised, bending down the string to approach her. “We were on the way to the clearing you showed us last time when the storm hit, and then we...”

In that moment, as to prove the truth in her words, a thunder echoed above them, followed by the even more violent sloshing of rainpour against the rooftop. Heralia looked up with a sigh, not at all impressed with the tantrums of summer, then noticed the blanket hanging sideways on the jute thread. “And I get that you don’t intend to give up on your stargazing, is that right?”

“That was my idea,” Asra stepped in, kneeling down to place one of the doorstops on the hem of the blanket. “You suggested that we studied the constellations in detail since the sky is clearer and it’s meteor shower season. Shall we perhaps postpone our lesson?” he challenged her, staring at his mentor with an innocent smile and a cunning glint in the eyes.

Heralia scoffed. “Do as you please, I don’t care.” A yawn ran past her lips, so she turned around with a shrug to climb up the stairs and go back to the comfort of her bed. “Just make sure you fall asleep at a reasonable hour and put everything back in place before opening, tomorrow.”

“We will, I promise.” Mali’ya nodded, surprised at how easily her aunt had given in this time. “Thank you, and goodnight.” Heralia hummed something in return that she didn’t quite catch, but since her mentor didn’t repeat herself Mali’ya supposed it was nothing important.

Clasping her hands together, she looked down at Faust, who was slithering around freely on the floor now that her aunt was gone. “Wait,” she told Asra, “Let’s use my bedsheets for the tent.”

- - -

Half an hour later, sitting comfortably amongst soft pillows and a couple of warm blankets, Mali’ya traced carefully each word printed on the astronomy book that lied open on her lap.

“What is…” she started, squinting in the dim glow of the small ball of light floating just above Asra’s hand. “What is an ‘Equinox’?”

“That’s when day and night have more or less the same duration,” he explained, stretching his limbs by her side like a cat that just woke up after a long nap. He couldn’t help a yawn. “Equinoxes mark the start of spring and autumn, so they happen twice a year.”

At that, something in Mali’ya’s chest fluttered with triumph. “Oh! I think I got it.”

With half-lidded eyes, Asra followed the movements of the quill in her personal journal as she wrote down the definition. “You want me to spell it out for you?”

“Yes, please.��� Her voice was nothing but a bashful whisper.

A hand ran up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she nodded again, jade eyes steady on every letter in fear of messing them up. He couldn't really see it, but a hint of blush painted her cheeks with something akin to shame; there was still so much she had to learn after all, and since Asra was way ahead of her in terms of magic knowledge, she always felt like she was only slowing him down.

“How do you say that in Venterrean?”

She didn’t even lift her eyes from the page. “Rivnodennya.”

Her handwriting was still unsure, he noticed from where he was lying, almost childlike and adorned with ink stains and spelling mistakes; but despite that, a pleased little smile had come to grace her lips, together with a quiet satisfaction that danced in her eyes every time she made some progress. Shyly, a pair of small dimples also appeared on her freckled cheeks, matching his own.

Pretty.

“And Solstice?”

Mali’ya still wasn’t looking at him, and a moment passed before she was done writing. Finally, she closed her handwritten dictionary with a soft thud. “Sorry, I don’t know what that means.”

Asra smiled, shaking his head with a light huff, before eventually giving up on lying on the blanket so he could sit up and borrow the astronomy book from her.

“I told you, you don’t have to apologise for every word you don’t know.” He flipped a couple of pages like he meant to find a specific chapter or image; peeking at him, Mali’ya couldn’t help but notice how the words slid under his eyes without him even noticing them. Just how much did he know on the matter? And who taught him all that, given that he was only a year and a half older than her?

Asra was such a mystery, she thought. He possessed extraordinary talent and a unique predisposition for magic, was resourceful and clever, but nobody seemed to have acknowledged that yet. In her modest opinion, his shine would only have gone to waste, had him kept busying himself with their lessons.

In the end, Mali’ya saw him settle for a star chart.

If only I wasn’t such a slow learner. Mother always said I―

To her surprise, Asra set the book aside and reached for one of their bags. “Solstice marks the first day of winter and summer, by the way.”

She was still lost in thought when she answered, “That’s sontsestoyannya.”

“Oh,” was all he managed to say as he handed her a smaller bag, the one filled with the berries they’d picked on their way to the woods just the other day. “Sounds complicated. Vesuvian is pretty different from Venterrean, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Mali’ya agreed, taking out a single blueberry from the sack. It was soft and full between her digits and the rind was just the perfect nuance of indigo any ripe fruit should be. It would’ve taken a single, light squeeze to smash it.

“So is Zadithi.”

It was a statement so soft, a whisper so nostalgic, she almost didn’t catch it.

Asra had his eyes fixed before him, though he didn’t seem to be actually seeing whichever thing he was looking at. Faust, who’d been napping among the creases in the blankets, had probably sensed his discomfort since immediately, though ever so gently, she slithered up around his arm as to console him.

Arms around his knees to make himself smaller, a stare that spoke to none―he looked much older than his fifteen years of age, but also somewhat younger, the way when a self-made teen grows up too fast; an inner child whose heart, she was sure, ached for something he would hardly get back.

In the silence of the night, Mali’ya began to understand. Why she’d been drawn to him since that morning at the market. Why she always felt so at ease around him, even though she’d only known him for a few months. She had never been able to notice that before, because both of them were just dancing around the other; trying to see if they could really let their guards down.

They really weren’t that different, then.

Wait.

All of sudden, a realisation―raw hope―pushed anything else aside.

Silence?

“Asra,” she called, her tone urgent and bright all the same. Hurriedly, but as not to startle him, her hand ghosted on his forearm. “The rain. It stopped.”

Not minding the sheets rustling under her knees after her eagerness, Mali’ya crawled out of their makeshift tent but stopped half-way, turning to Asra with an outstretched hand.

“Come,” she smiled, in a way she hoped it said I see you. You don’t have to be alone. “Let’s go see the stars!”

The cold, humid air that followed storms was pleasing on her skin as she unlocked the seal, letting the breeze in while Asra handed her one end of the blanket. Still on the doorstep, Mali’ya watched as her breath formed uneven clouds of steam.

“The sky’s clearing up,” Asra whispered beside her.

The holiness of it all, of the dead of a midsummer’s night, was enough to keep their voices low.  Everything was painted in delicate shades of black and blue, and as they huddled close to one another, Mali’ya and Asra waited for the stars to show up.

Little by little, on the dark, empty canvas around the moon, a faint white dot appeared. Alone at first, it was soon followed by another, and another again, while the wind gently pushed the clouds aside to offer the city, and the few bystanders still wandering around―or standing on a threshold with their hands so close they almost touched―a sky so wide and mighty.

ao3 link

[sopxhiea]

Lush

Alfie Solomons X Reader

Summary: The ropes are tied on both ends after their last meeting and the infamous wild girl keeps tugging at them, until a sliver of vulnerability seeps through and Alfie sees her for who she is.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

“Am I in trouble?”

“You play so hard to get...Will I ever catch you?”

The marble walls are cold. It’s sometime in december, hard to tell since the days seem to be morphing into each other as the clock ticks. The sun no longer shows, and it’s faint when it does. One sound from the large clock on the hallway and it’s the end of the week, the passing of time seems to escape the months.

Although no one seems to care as they dance through the night.

It was put somewhere in the calendar by Annabelle, and you vaguely remember the fading lines of your uncle’s smile as he told you he’d be getting married soon. It was hard to care, even harder to remember why you were standing there, in the corner of the lavish room while the music boomed through the fancy building.

There were many things to be said, but you’d keep them to yourself for the day.

The bride was a sham, you could tell from the way she didn’t even smile at your uncle. He was somewhat of a rich guy, although you hadn’t experienced any of the said money since he happened to be greedy guy who just wouldn’t share what he reclaimed to be his.

Much to your luck, you had no interest in his money or any of his property but the new bride couldn’t disagree more. Annabelle had sent you off an hour before the event started and it was school policy to get in before midnight but you never did, even when it wasn’t someone’s wedding and just a tuesday night.

She’s not supposed to tell anyone of your whereabouts but a little green bill and Annabelle turns into a song bird.

You smile at the guests as they dance, hand in hand as the slow song fills the air. It’s rather strange seeing you like this, some think. You’re usually the source of trouble, the one causing the mess and not the quiet girl you’ve been since the wedding started but you figure you owe your uncle that even though he had forcefully sent you to a boarding school and didn’t send you anything on your birthday.

You don’t hold grudges, you say to yourself.

With the strange passage of time, sometimes you can’t quite pinpoint where the reality starts and the dreams end but you know he’s real. The way he tries to play your little game, where most of the men either failed or simply gave up. He’s been holding up his end, you conclude, after almost a month of spontaneous visits.

Alfie, is his name.

You don’t call him that, although he insists but you enjoy the way his scruff covered face reddens way too much to do things the proper way. You hadn’t even kissed him yet, but he still came back for more. He was easily riled up by you and hated Annabelle and sou you figured, you wouldn’t drop this one.

It was easy, to get tired of men and it happened almost naturally for you. The first stages were far more than exciting, when you didn’t know anything about the bloke’s life or boring job he had but soon after that, reality would set in and you’d realise that the bloke you had your hands on was just another boring rich boy who was too good for you in his family’s eyes.

But not him, Alfie had proved to be quite the opposite.

There was blood on his hands and a weight that came with it, it was evident in the way he walked and spoke, he didn’t just do things out of spite like the young lads did. You didn’t even know how old he was, only that he was close to being twice your age as Ollie had told you one time without giving away too much but that didn’t bother you.

It bothered Annabelle, though. You could see it in her eyes.

Being the infamous wild lady had its perks and one of them was the way you had access to direct information on the town’s social climate. Sometimes it was a bitter, snotty girl telling you her best friend had gotten married to a bloke from Birmingham or the drunk lad you were dancing in the club speaking to you about the new club that was opening soon. It came in many forms but the most important part was that it was the voice of the youth around.

Apparently, Alfie’s gangster nature and piercing eyes had made him an attraction of sorts for the younger ladies. No one would say it except some of the girls you knew who worked in the brothel he had visited many times before. There was a line, the girl had told you under the dim light of the entrance, a line made of posh girls who wanted Alfie to fuck their brains out for the thrill of it.

It had almost made you smile.

You didn’t look down on any of the girls for the thoughts they were having, if anything you agreed but Alfie wasn’t just a bloke who lived around the corner from their posh apartments, you knew. He was in a dangerous line of business and very capable of snapping your neck in two if he wished to. It was thrilling, you would give the girls that, but he would need a lot of warming up to be the consistency you wanted him to be.

And that had been in the works, for the past month.

He was the one who came around, the one to seek you out and that put you in the higher hand when compared to him. You could say no, you wouldn’t but you could and Annabelle would just have to shoo him away with a regretful smile. There were a dozen girls worth half the trouble you were causing him but he liked the trouble, he had signed up for it when he brought you home the first night.

He and you had talked, answering all the questions this time but with a couple white lies here and there. You’d told him about your greedy uncle and about the paintings and he told you about his past and how he came to be the person he was. You’d lied to him when he’d asked you about the number of the guys you’d fucked and you’d amplified and multiplied it. He had just nodded and raised his eyebrows.

He’d lied,too, but you’d caught it.

He lied about before the war and the lost love he had but you saw it in his eyes. He lied about his family when you asked and also about what he did, at least some of the lines of business he was involved in but you didn’t push. He hadn’t shot you after pressing all his buttons and you didn’t have a death wish before solving the puzzle of Alfie Solomons.

You soon find yourself leaning against the exterior wall of the building, on the outside towards the street where there’s no one but you and a couple people walking by. The air is cold but you don’t seem to mind it after borrowing the bride’s fur coat, which she had no idea about as she danced inside. You’d return it when you went back inside but it felt warm against your skin and the material was pleasant.

Alfie thought you looked fucking beautiful.

Annabelle wasn’t supposed to give information about your whereabouts but all he had to was to shoot her an annoyed look and she would tremble under his piercing gaze. Her uncle’s wedding, she had said, she wasn’t so happy about it since the bride is just a little older than she is but she’s gone. Alfie had listened and furrowed his eyebrows before shouting at Ollie to drive to where the wedding was taking place.

And there you were, with rosy cheeks leaning against the cold wall of the building.

He didn’t know why he was there, he didn’t ask himself since he was afraid of the answer. He had felt something similar before, not quite the same but he recalled the pretty lass who’d managed to make his chest feel too tight for his heart.

He wouldn’t say it though, not to himself or anyone else.

He cleared his throat while you kept staring at your shoes. They were new, bought just of the occasion but they were damn uncomfortable so before he could utter a word. he saw you lean down and take the kitten heels off of your feet and step on the cold pavement of the ground. He chuckled in surprise which made you look up, he wondered where all of the hours of etiquette class had gone but he wasn’t complaining.

“Mr. Solomons.” you spoke in a breathy voice, a little less chirpy or seductive compared to usual and he saw it in your eyes too but you were far too quick to cover it all up before he could comment on it.

“‘ello, lass.” he spoke in his usual gruff voice and watched your pretty features scrunch up and stare up at him.

“It seems as though you always end up finding me.” you spoke, genuine suspicion in your voice and you continued with a smirk Alfie knew well. He was glad he had told Ollie to stay put in the car and was the only one to see you beaming up at him. “Are you having me followed?” you chuckled at the end of your sentence and he smiled at your words. 

He wasn’t, not intentionally anyway.

If he had been, you would’ve noticed. You snuck out nearly every night from the school and almost never got caught. Annabelle would hear things the next day if she was lucky but you knew the way the city worked, if someone had followed you, you would know.

“What brings you to this hellhole, then?” you spat out and saw the discontent in his eyes before he covered it up. 

He was almost as good as you in this game, almost.

“Just lookin’ to see the lass.” he spoke, eyes boring into yours as you stood in front of him, looking up since the man was twice as tall as you.

“Hm.” you nodded, looking at the familiar black car and then him. You knew Ollie was in there watching you and Alfie never just came to see you and leave, he was going to take you someplace like he usually did.

“’t’s not fuckin’ fun in there?” he spoke, signalling the large doors that opened up to where the wedding was taking place.

You smiled first and chuckled while you did so, it wasn’t the usual one but he’d take it. Looking at him through fluttered eyelashes, you spoke in a sweet voice that made him stay up all night dreaming of you.

“It’s not my cup of tea, Mr. Solomons.” you said in a breathy voice and he watched, just looked at you for a while.

“Ya’ wanna get out of ‘ere, lass?” he said, meeting your doubtful eyes which were often filled with nothing but trouble and he found that somewhere in there too but it wasn’t as obvious as the last time he’d seen you.

“Am I in trouble?” you spoke through a wicked smile, one Alfie knew well. Maybe too well for his own good, he thought.

“No, lass..” he spoke with a low grin, you could see the amusement seeping off of him. “You, yeah, are the fuckin’ trouble if ya’ ask me.” he spoke through his teeth and earned a wide smirk from you.

You were that, and both of you knew it.

“Well..”you spoke, clutching tighter to your new aunt’s coat as Alfie watched you through glassy eyes. “It’s a shame I didn’t ask.” you said with a lighter tone and it caused Alfie to chuckle loudly, which only made the corners of your lips twitch up in reaction.

You played the game too well.

“Where are you planning on taking me this time?” you spoke in a sweet voice, he saw you regain your usual attitude slowly after the laugh and he was glad it was coming back. He needed it to come back, even if he wasn’t able to admit that to himself yet.

He just shot you a smile and walked away after that, towards the big car where Ollie had been waiting for a while. You followed him, no questions asked or no feeling of fear in the pit of your stomach.

It took two to play this game and you had the upper hand, you always did.

----

It came as a shock to him.

The yards of soil coated in grass were now getting ready for the sunset. There were a few animals here and there, a horse and a group of cows that were nowhere near where Alfie was standing or the sign he’d told you to shoot. Ollie was left in the factory, Alfie had driven you all the way to the suburbs on his own and you felt like that wasn’t very boss-like but it didn’t matter.

“I know how to shoot.”

Your words echoed in his mind for a second.

You were half his age and size, he was sure you had been home-schooled or whatever the rich kids did. The posh people Alfie knew didn’t let their daughters within a one-mile radius of someone who had the possibility of carrying a gun let alone actually teach them.

“You fuckin’ what?” he spoke, a look of surprise coming over him which only made you smile at his expression in return.

Of course you knew how to shoot.

You were an expert at sneaking out and making trouble but that came at a price. Men liked to look at how pretty you looked while you danced but some wanted to touch as well, that’s when self defence became a priority. You could punch them or kick them in the nuts but some were strong so a pistol worked, or the small knife attached to your bra but you wouldn’t tell Alfie that.

“You really need to get your ears checked.” you said, visibly annoyed since he had done the same exact thing the last time he’d seen you. He scoffed at first and then walked over to you, slowly and you just watched.

You didn’t know who was the lion and who was the prey anymore. Not when you had a knife strapped to your bra and a gun in your hands.

“Where the fuck did ya’ learn how to shoot? A lass your age?” he said and you realised he was talking to himself and not you. You let him mumble away for a few seconds before stepping up and speaking. 

“Well, It seems as though I’m old enough for you to come looking for me every damn week so I assume I’m not too young....” you said, still pissed at his comments about your age. He had no problem fucking you with his eyes but brought it up when it had to do with a gun. “...and I learned on my own. For protection.”

He looked at you, from head to toe and nodded as his hands ran through his beard. The sun was slowly setting and the speckles of light caught his skin and beard, illuminating him in a way that you’d only seen in renaissance paintings before. You gulped but composed yourself quickly, you could show no weakness.

“I ain’t comin’ to look for ya’ every fuckin’ week.” he said and you smiled. Out of all the things you had said, he got stuck on the one thing.

“Why is Annabelle giving me so much trouble about your unannounced visits then?” you said, in a heartbeat and he smiled at you, just smiled for a solid second before turning away. You were quick to answer your question since you had found out that Alfie wasn’t a fan of doing that.

“Either she wants to fuck you or is genuinely annoyed.” you spat and he turned in one swift motion, facing you again with the ghost of a smirk you’d seen earlier.

“Eh?” he made a sound of encouragement mixed with confusion. Alfie was used to you being so forward but every now and then, it still caught him off guard.

You nodded as a way to confirm the first assumption and spoke again, you were walking next to him as he slowly moved towards the target he had told you to shoot. You looked too comfortable with a gun in your hand, he thought as he watched your lips move.

“You tell me which one, although I have a pretty good idea.” you spoke through a fit of giggles and he watched your features change under the afternoon light.

He was utterly fucked.

“Ain’t she a fuckin’ old maid?” he voiced his opinion and earned a sweet smile from you. You nodded again, a bit quicker this time and fought a fiddle of giggles before speaking.

“She is.” you licked your lips and spoke as Alfie stared at you under the setting sun. 

Your hair was all over the place, cheeks red due to the cold weather and he wanted to kiss your nose, warm you up but the game was still on so he composed himself, settled for the inappropriate dreams he’d been having for the past month since you’d been in his house.

“She’s about your age, I think.” you spat out without looking at him and he made a hurt noise, his way of saying that he was offended but the shocked face turned into a small smirk as he spoke, hand tugging at his beard like it usually was and for a moment, your eyes got stuck on his golden rings.

“I ain’t as old as you fuckin’ think I am, lass.” he spoke and you smiled at him. You knew he was significantly older but neither of you had voiced it before but you didn’t think it mattered. He could be as old as he wanted but he’d still be the only person who was able to keep up with you.

“And I’m not as young as you think I am, Mr. Solomons.” you spoke under your breath, eyes at your shoes as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. He wasn’t dangerously close but the warmth of his skin spread through yours.

He waited for a moment, looked at the delicate features of your face as you offered him a gentle smile, contrasting the cold air around. He knew you were older, you just looked younger and it didn’t bother him. If anything, he figured it was perfect since he appeared to be older than he was. 

The game was fun, he would admit. Like a breath of fresh air in the dull life he seemed to lead, although you would speak to differ since every act that came from the man was everything but boring. You licked your lips, ready to answer any question thrown your way with a bit of sass you carried around with you. He couldn’t figure you out for the life of him, it drove him mad to think about you yet it seemed to be all he was capable of doing those days.

“Ya’ play so hard to get...Will I ever catch ya’?” he sounded confused, convinced that it would never happen somehow but you would slow down at some point, he just didn’t know it.

Men liked chasing girls dressed in pretty lace and with bright, beaming eyes. You were that girl, had been chased by many but you’d never found it in yourself to stop and look back, none were interesting enough to do that. They wanted superficial things, a fuck or a dance or maybe the thrill of being with a girl every cockney banged on about but there was nothing real in those kind of relationships.

But you figured, since Alfie was proving to be nothing like those men, you’d slow down just a little.

Not now though, but sometime in the future.

“Maybe If your sciatica gets better, you might have a decent shot at it, Mr. Solomons.” you spoke through a beaming smile and the words and the redness on your nose caused Alfie to laugh. He still wanted to kiss you, he realised.

“‘s Alfie, luv.” he reminded for the countless time, but he knew it was useless. He liked the way you said it anyway, much better than anyone he’s heard.

“Sure it is.” you spoke through a half-hearted giggle and started walking towards the car.

He had brought you here to teach you how to shoot but you knew how to do it already, he felt an ease in his gut knowing that. Men around London were dangerous and although he’d speak to differ that you were more lethal than any man he’d seen, a woman could never be too careful. He knew.

He watched you get in the car without the usual help from Ollie, realised something along the way. If he were honest with himself, he had realised it some time ago but he wouldn’t admit to it, took all the fun in his eyes. He smiled at you before looking at the sunset one last time.

The thrill of this would pass but Alfie was sure it would leave a sweet aftertaste. The days were short now, the time washed over the clock like an unexpected tidal wave from a once calm sea. There was a siren calling out to him, enticing him with her words each time she spoke but the siren had no intention of killing him in a cruel way. She was too soft for that, although many saw her as a killer trap.

The siren was you, and you were so beautiful under the sunset as you waved at him from the car.

I might die, he thought. I might die and it would be because of her, he said to himself as he looked at your smile. He soon concluded that he didn’t mind that at all. He would prefer it to the slow bleeding of a knife wound or the quick and efficient house of a bullet in between his blue orbs.

That was how it started, with the handsome sailor ignoring all the warnings.

The amateurs didn’t see the warnings before the siren engulfed them, ate them whole and left no trace. The beginners would be fooled quickly but no, Alfie wasn’t new to this. He knew that the captains went to the sirens on purpose, not because they were fooled but because the siren was a new source of hope in a different world.

And the times had changed.

“Silly girl.” Alfie mumbled to himself after getting into the car. You were sitting quietly next to him, in an unusual manner where you were almost sulking.

You realised, once you sat in the car and gazed out the window to see the now fading orange sky, that until that very point it had always been Alfie who would seek you out. He’d mostly paid you unannounced visits at the school but sometimes, he’d catch you during your weekly shopping trips or even the library. Never during the nights when you’d sneak out to go dancing in the pubs.

Although he knew all about it, you knew the faces of his men by this point. The man who’d follow you in and out of school.

So you decided that it was time for a simple yet revolting change. You’d invite him out this time, in a less more proper manner than he had.

You had it all planned out and he had no idea. You let him drive you to the school, commenting on how boring his old man stories were and he just chuckled and mumbled something under his breath. You let him drop you off, a gentle kiss on your cheek and the cold feel of his rings against your hand as he whispered in your ear, “I’ll see you soon, luv.”. You waved at him as he left.

He had no idea of the hurricane that was about to hit him.

So you got ready, lace all over your body in a sheer dress. You wore your favourite kitten heels and just a simple lip just how Alfie liked it. It was time for a little play, something to tip his interest further. It wasn’t like you’d lost it but men were very easily distracted. So you’d created a masterplan to remedy the problem you thought you had. Your hair was let down, tickling your shoulders as you swayed your hips in the fur coat that had belonged to the new bride in your family but the wedding was long forgotten. 

You wouldn’t fuck him, you didn’t think.

Or maybe you would, you said to yourself as you approached his large house. The nerves were near but so was he and you had no intentions of fucking this up. He was an interesting one, one worth keeping and you would make sure of it.

Nine pm. The air cold around your shoulders as a smile graced your lips. You were supposed to be in the tea room, blocks away from where you were standing in front of a stranger’s door.

Well, not so much of a stranger anymore.

One knock, and then another.

His voice filled the other side of the door, a smile graced your lips and you braced yourself for the night, for the look of surprise that would surely be cast on his handsome features.

One inhale, one genuine smile and the swift motion of the door opening.

There he was, your handsome stranger.

And you’d kiss him that night.

-----

Tagging: @clairecrive  @parkbearum @sourirez  @vetseras​ @mollybegger-blog @babylooneytoonz @peakascum @fuseburner​ @r-rose08​ @innerpaperexpertcloud 

a/n: They will kiss soon and do more stuff :) so stay tuned pls and lemme know if you liked the chapter!! This somehow ended up being a slow-burn type of thing but oh well :)

and happy new year, dear ones! I hope it’s a good year for all!

[ohnopoe]

Potential Breakup Song | Jack Daniels

Ship: Jack Daniels x Reader Summary: It’s your birthday, and all you want to do is have a few drinks with your boyfriend, but when he doesn’t show, your coworker, Jack, takes it upon himself to check on you Word Count: 2.2k+ Tagging: @the-purity-pen​  Author’s Note: Ok so this... idk how this happened tbh. BUT I’d kind of love to write more for these two, I have some slight ideas, but idk... so if you’d like to see something more please let me know!

Sitting there alone at the little booth you had claimed over an hour earlier certainly wasn’t how you had expected the evening to go. You had been happy, excited even, when you finally grabbed your coat to leave Statesmen for the day, readying yourself for a proper, fun night out with your boyfriend.

Sure, you’d had to remind him twice already to meet you at the little bar you liked that was not far from work, and sure maybe it would have been fun to invite some friends too, but this was your birthday, and even having a few drinks with your man seemed better than nothing.

But the day had seemed to drag on, as if it knew you were anticipating the well-needed break.

With every knock on the door, a part of you couldn’t help but hope for something, although you couldn’t quite tell what.

Would it have been nice if your coworkers had realised what day it was? Sure. But then, hiding it off facebook had been your decision, and you couldn’t truly blame them for not knowing when you were so careful about keeping things separate between work and home. But with each interruption to your work came a following disappointment. Reports were required, devices needed testing, and not one person seemed to have anything but more work to add to your pile.

Dread was dancing in your periphery, but you refused to give into it.

You had decided this. You had been the one to do that damn stupid idea and hide your information in some desperate plea that someone would remember you even without the irritating little notification Facebook offered. You couldn’t blame others for your own actions, no matter how much it hurt to feel so damned forgotten on your birthday of all things.

But, as you sat alone in the booth at your favourite bar, well, that dread sure was starting to egg away at you.

Another glance at your phone, a silent reminder of just how long you’d been waiting along with the lack of any explanation, only helped solidify your negativity. What if he wasn’t coming? What if he’d forgotten too?

The drink you’d been nursing for the better part of an hour sat before you, the ice had melted into the mix, making it weak and watery as you took a hesitant sip once more. If he wasn’t there by the time you finished, you’d leave. That’s what you’d said to yourself some thirty minutes ago when the drink had arrived. But even you could see you were drawing out the inevitable now, taking slow sips in the hopes of prolonging what little chance there was.

“Either that’s the worst damn drink you’ve ever had, or somethin’s on your mind,” a familiar voice almost cooed from above you, amusement tangling with something you couldn’t quite place as the silhouette of Agent Whiskey blocked out a good portion of the bar.

Offering a half hearted smile, you took a determined gulp of the drink in your hand, stubbornly meeting his gaze as you did so. There was always something about the agent that brought out a fierce competitive side in you, and maybe it was the sheer determination to not appear as pathetic as you felt, but you found yourself offering a smirk as you placed it down on the table without a word, silently challenging him.

“Alright, maybe not,” he offered a chuckle, lips pulling into a smile and drawing out that dimple that caught far too much attention.

“Something I can help you with, Whiskey?” and damn it, that didn’t come off half as harsh as you had hoped. Hell, it didn’t even come off sarcastic. The usual fire in your tone seemed lost, and you could only hope he didn’t hear the way your voice broke ever so slightly with the question.

You weren’t used to this. You’d kept your private life private for a reason, kept yourself away from the work functions and the celebratory drinks in the hopes of distancing yourself from the people you worked with for the most part, and now, having him in front of you out in the real world, when you were already so damn close to breaking… it wasn’t something you were quite prepared for.

“You looked like you could use some company,” he answered simply with a shrug, and if his eyes hadn’t blazed with that intensity you’d seen so often when he was in the field, you might just have believed he was as nonchalant as he attempted to appear.

But his statement brought another thought, more harrowing than the last, and you had to take another sip of your drink to wet your suddenly dry throat as it plagued you.

“How long have you been watching me?”

With a sigh, that playful smirk you’d seen so often slipped from his lips. With a quick point to the opposite side of the booth, he waited until you nodded your consent before slipping in with yet another sigh, but still he didn’t answer your question.

“Don’t see you around here often,” and it almost sounded like a line, were it not for the curious way his gaze took you in as he spoke.

Your shrug was an attempt at something casual, but you knew he was too damn good at reading people to fall for that. “Maybe it wasn’t my idea,” it was. “Maybe someone asked me here,” they didn’t.

But he seemed to read more from your words than you thought you had offered, his attention falling from you to the drink in your hand, before darting around the room and landing on the door.

“Well, he’s a damn fool to leave you waiting,” he huffed, and, while you still felt on edge being around the agent you worked with day in and day out, a small, albeit genuine, smile broke through your demeanour.

It was just a line, just a statement anyone would make upon hearing someone had potentially been stood up. Your mind was screaming at you to remember that it didn’t truly hold the weight you desperately wished it did. But your heart clung to those words.

Were you really this desperate for someone to actually care about you on your birthday that you were clinging to hollow words said out of propriety? Damn, maybe you were. Maybe Ginger had been right all along, you really should go out with her some time, maybe having some real friends at work wouldn’t be all that bad after all.

“Alright, what about this,” Jack broke your harrowing line of thought with that charming smile he had down pat. “I buy you a drink, we relax, have a good time… if he shows, he shows, and I’ll leave y’all to it, if not, well, hopefully I’m not the worst company.”

A laugh, the first you’d managed all day, escaped your lips as you shook your head at the cowboy’s poor attempt at humility.

“Why would you do that?” the question sounded meeker than you would have liked, and you had to glance away when his confused gaze met yours. But the bar was filled with distractions, even if it wasn’t particularly busy, and you quickly clung to them as you regained some sort of a backbone. “You know damn well half the bar is eyeing you off, you don’t need to waste your evening on me, Jack.”

If his breath caught at hearing your slip up, hearing you utter his name for the first time in far too long, well, he was damn good at hiding it behind that playful smirk. But there was still that shine to his gaze as he watched you so intently that you could feel it even as you focused on swirling the small remainders of your drink.

“And leave you to this lot?” he questioned playfully, raising a brow as he gestured around you both comically. “Honey, I know all too well what these types would do to a pretty lil thing like you, all alone.”

“You would know,” you scoffed a laugh, and, damn it, how was it so easy to relax around him? You’d known him for years, sure, but never personally, always keeping that carefully concocted professional appearance in place.

“Darlin’, are you implying something here?” there it was, that playful lilt to his tone that he always seemed to offer at just the right time, almost cracking your hard exterior more times that you’d care to admit.

“You forget, Whiskey,” you pause, giving him a pointed look that didn’t quite have its usual impact as your lips desperately struggled to hide that playful smile that wanted to break free. “I’ve been on the other end of the comms during far too many of your missions. I know all too well what you’re capable of.”

The smirk he gave in response held a twinge of danger, his eyes lighting up as he leant forwards just enough to capture your full attention. This was a side of Jack you had seen through his glasses many times, a side he hadn’t shown you since you shot him down cold at the very beginning of your working together, and it was a side that could thrill even the most cold hearted of individuals, you were sure.

“Oh, darlin’, you have no idea.”

Well, that certainly shouldn’t have affected you as much as it did.

You’d been working with Whiskey for years now, you knew all too well what he was like, how much he liked to flirt and mess around. You’d watched through his glasses camera on numerous occasions as he flirted his way into the beds of targets, each time rolling your eyes to yourself because you’d surely never fall for something so cheesy.

But then, you’d always been safely seeing things from his perspective, hadn’t you? You’d never seen that intense gaze he offered along with those words, never watched as his tongue darted out to wet those plush lips… damn, maybe you weren’t as strong as you had always thought.

“Babe, hey!” a puffed out breath came from beside you, drawing your attention away from the perfect cupid’s bow that was hidden behind that neatly trimmed moustache.

You almost jumped at the sound, turning quickly to see your boyfriend standing there, looking none too happy to see you sitting there with another man, and, despite the fact you’d been waiting for, was that two hours now?, you felt guilt creep in.

“Hey!” you offered the brightest smile you could, even if it felt somewhat off as you glanced between the two men.

They couldn’t have been more different if they tried. One, the epitome of the suave cowboy, the other in what he so affectionally labelled ‘prime casual fashion’, or, as you secretly called it, jumped up t-shirts that had no right to charge as much as they did. Jack was leaning back in the booth, exuding comfort and confidence, while your boyfriend stood there glancing between you and Jack with a tense jaw. In fact, the only similarity between the two seemed to be the intense fire that sat in their gazes as they eyed one another up.

Oh good, yet another display of stupid macho masculinity. With a roll of your eyes, you cleared your throat, quickly gaining the attention of the silently feuding men. “Jack, this is my boyfriend, Tim-”

“Timothy,” Tim interjected, standing up even straighter, as if the use of his full name would hold some form of power.

Closing your eyes to avoid rolling them once more as you watched him look down his nose at Whiskey, you ignored the interruption. “Tim,” you started once more, more than a hint of irritation in your tone at the fact the same man who had left you waiting for so long was now trying to play some kind of stupid game. “This is Jack, we work together.”

It seemed the two didn’t particularly care about introductions, or, for that matter, manners, as they continued to stare at one another in silence for a long moment.

“I’ll leave y’all to it,” Jack spoke suddenly, breaking the tense atmosphere with a nod as he moved far too smoothly out of the booth. How he always seemed to move with such elegance had often caused you to wonder. It didn’t seem to match the macho cowboy exterior he gave off, but worked so seamlessly when he was in a fight. It was a part of him, small and subtle, that had caught your attention more times than it ought.

Only when Tim sidled up next to you, pushing you further into the booth did your mind fall back to reality with a frown. Words were already falling out of his mouth, mentions of his day, of the clients he had dealt with, and not a word of apology for how late he was, and that same resignation you had felt earlier seemed to sweep over you once more.

“Happy birthday, Y/N,” Jack spoke softly, the words somehow a farewell. His smile was gentle as he met your surprised gaze.

And then, just as suddenly as he had appeared, he was gone, leaving the bar’s doors swaying after him as your boyfriend clambered for your attention.

[caterpellas]

munich nights • harry styles 2

summary: touring inseparably as best friends and musicians, yours and harry’s relationship takes a cruel turn in munich.

warnings: smut (thigh riding, oral f receiving, girl on top n i think that’s it)

genre: bestfriend!harry, friends to lovers(?), angst, smut, it’s the works y’all

pt 2/3 (one is here)           word count: 6k

a/n: this is the penultimate bit now :) i’m actually super nervous to post this lol i’m a mess anyway pls enjoy 

chapter 2 playlist

you couldn’t lie, you cried yourself to sleep that night, with a movie you sort of cared about playing in the background. harry didn’t love you, and what used to be the strongest friendship in mankind had now crumbled apart and returned to a state of distant nothingness. harry didn’t love you. he didn’t have to say those words to you for you to know they were true. the realisation hit you about twenty minutes after harry left like an arrow to your chest, that was so recently covered in his ejaculate. not only were the pair of you virtually inseparable, you worked together as well and you had absolutely no idea what was going to happen now. you felt too ashamed for him and his band members to see you now after last night.

waking up in a damp patch of tears in your double bed, you try your hardest to get on with your day and forget last night. a bath felt appropriate so, just before midday, before you’d even greeted your friends yet, you ran one. the tub itself was freestanding and as deep as your head when you sat in it, the victorian taps centred in the middle. it was definitely the nicest bath you’d had in your life. you stripped off last nights clothes that you had shamelessly fallen asleep in and hoped to god the hot water of your bath would erase the images of last night, but the feeling of harry’s touch burned hotter then any water.

almost an hour later, milo, your drummer, knocked on the door of the bathroom you were still in.

“y/n? you in there? we haven’t seen you since last night before you and harry left. is everything okay?” milo’s voice reached you through the oak walls. you wanted to tell him that nothing was okay, and that you’re most important relationship ceased to exist but you couldn’t bare to tell anyone else, especially your friend and bandmate of 5 years.

“i’m all good, i’ll be out soon.” you make it downstairs another half an hour later, the need for a cup of tea driving you to the kitchen. as you reached the breakfast bar right next to the kitchen, you saw the sickening mop of brown curls that you were hoping to avoid. he turns to face you at the sound of your slippers against the tiled floor.

but instead of plain ignorance, a much more unexpected reaction finds its way to harry as he greets you, “y/n! we were beginning to think you’d drowned in that bath.”

you stood in bewilderment at harry’s attempt at a joke, wondering why he was trying you like all of last night never happened to either of you. but you picked this over cold silence so went along with it, “yeah sorry i needed to recover from the jet lag yesterday.”

it was sort of true, you were feeling the time difference and were grateful to be able to rest today. aside from plans to go out this evening, you were all going to rest up at home. which meant being in close quarters with the man you were trying so hard to avoid. making your cup of tea on the old aga kettle, your friends went back to discussing tour details, chatting about last and what was in store for the rest of the trip. you got a feeling their plans for the future weren’t going to be that plain and simple.

-

by the evening, you had all found yourselves comfortably sat around the fire outside, eating takeout from a german restaurant nearby. it was really good, and although you and harry had barely spoken more than those few words to each other things weren’t as awkward as you were dreading they’d be. usually, if things hadn’t gone the way they had, you and harry would be sat next to one another, your sides touching all the way down whilst you giggled over something harry was telling you.but as it goes, milo and olly sandwiched you between their huge bodies.

“does anyone know the name of the club we’re going to tonight?”

your ears pricked up at the mention of going to a club. you didn’t realise you were going out-out.

“panorama, i think? i put harry’s name on the guest list.”

it occurred to you that you were heavily underdressed for an exclusive nightclub. you had a good feeling they wouldn’t accept your cargo pants and grubby trainers. jumping up from the bench you run to the door, “i need to go change!”

you opted for an ever so slightly classier look and went with a small pleated skirt and a cropped cardigan. not a combo you’d usually wear, it was a little more fitted then you’d choose for yourself but you’d compromise a little to get in the club. you stuck with the dr martens purely for comfort and called it a night there. you loved your style for many reasons, but the most important one was that it was low effort. it took a maximum of 20 minutes to get ready and you took pride in that.

the group had organised to have a limo to share instead of a taxi, so harry was a little more protected from paparazzi and also to fit the size of your party. they were all waiting outside on the drive when you got downstairs and in unison, their heads turned to face you.

sarah grinned at you, “i love it.”

“very cute,” charlotte smiled as well.

you responded with a “cheers” before daring to look at harry. he was wearing a silk shirt and slacks in a baby pink colour. nothing different to harry’s usual attire but the outfit still sent a chill down your spine. well that, and the way he was looking at you. it was dark out but you could still see how electric his green eyes were as they stared directly at you. you’d been caught off guard, harry wasn’t someone you were prepared to connect with again this evening. in fact, you’d convinced yourself that you didn’t even care whether harry was going to be there or not (utter lies of course). but by the way he was looking at you, you knew this wasn’t the end and you weren’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

-

the vip section of ‘panorama’ was plush and teal coloured, with flower garlands and strip lights along the ceiling. you had a lounging area all to yourselves, with big padded benches and cushions. it was luxurious and if you weren’t so highly strung from having harry sat so near by, you’d fall asleep on it. you drunk so many cocktails by this point and your worries seemed to fade away into the loud club music.

“y/n.”

harry was sat next to you, but distantly. he was chatting to mitch before he said your name. no matter how loud the music playing was, you’d still always here his voice. turning to him, you asked, “harry?”

he’s smiling at you, like nothing has changed, “how come you haven’t danced yet this evening?”

it was a good question- you loved to dance more than you loved to perform. harry would always make fun of you, the shimmy you would do when he was playing disco in the studio and the way you always swayed along to fleetwood mac, pretending to be stevie nicks on stage. the reason you weren’t dancing is because you were far too obsessed with the closeness you had achieved with harry in your booth.

“i haven’t quite been feeling it just yet,” you teased back and you felt as though things with harry had gone back to normal, so you dared to ask, “are we good?”

harry’s boyish smile took over his face as he gave you a definite, “yes.”

“well i’m feeling more in the mood now so i’ll see you later,” you get up to exit, smoothing out the pleats in your skirt and struggle to take your eyes away from his. dreaming he’ll follow you, you make your way into the adjacent room filled to the brim with people. the song was bassy, but mellow and you could immediately feel your body moving to it. before you knew it you were almost next to the dj booth, opposite the ceiling high speakers and the song was perfect. you hadn’t felt this relaxed since yesterday’s plane journey and you let your unease pour out of your limbs as they writhed to the music. it took a few minutes to take you out of the trance and realise, although surrounded by a mass of people, you weren’t alone.

a tall figure was behind you, and without turning you knew who it was. you could smell his cologne easily- it was gucci of course and it was heavenly. not even daring to turn to him, you stayed facing away, afraid of what it meant to have him in your view. his hands, large and firm, gripped your shoulders, like he did twice yesterday, and his hot breath was against your neck.

“can i join you?”

the question itself was said innocently, this wasn’t the first time harry had asked to dance with you, and probably wasn’t the last, but it felt different to you now. god how you missed the simplicity of harry being unattainably yours as a friend. finally bracing yourself to meet his eyes from almost a foot above you, you spun, his arms falling from your shoulders to your forearms.

smiling up at the familiar face of the love of your life, you said into his ear, “of course you can dance with me.”

dancing with harry was nothing sexy or erotic but it was the most intimate you’d ever been with him, before last night. harry loved to dance almost as much as you and the best part of his whole personality was nothing other than his devil-may-care disposition. it reminded you of the times he’d twirl you while you were stood somewhere completely out of the blue, or when he’d snap his fingers along to a song and by the time you’d joined in the two of you had broken out into a full dance routine just for the sheer fun of it.

harry grabbed your small, clammy hands and pulled you into him, and then straight back out as wild cherry played through the speakers and you inaudibly laughed at his initial dance moves.

“is that all you’ve got styles?” you smirked at him before laughing at the ridiculous version of the hustle he was trying to pull off. he looked way better than you’d ever want to declare, looking fresh out of the 70s whilst funk music played to his dance moves. it suited him down to a fine art and the song was tailor made for his steps. your hips circled to the song and you remembered just how much you love it. pulling out some more unconventional dance moves you went for the peace signs over your eyes and harry’s head fell back in laughter whilst watching you.

this was it. the perfect moment you were so afraid of losing with him. you understood now that whatever yours and harry’s union was, it was far stronger than you ever gave it credit for. harry and you were back to normal again and instead of last night’s beer goggles making you far more candid then you’d like, now your feelings were crystal clear. harry was all you’d ever want.

as boney m. began to fade in now harry’s dancing had become more intense and now the pair of you were far closer then you’d ever danced together before. one of his hands made a brave attempt at looping around your waist and spinning you, making your skirt flare up in the process. usually you’d be shy and care, but only harry was paying attention to you and the thought of him have a small peak at what was under your skirt didn’t even slightly bother you. one of your arms clutches his lean bicep and you moved in unison together, only inches away from one another now.

“i love watching you dance,” harry whisper-shouted in your ear. unprepared for that statement, you stare into his eyes as they flashed in the colours of the lights. his gaze is unfocused, undecided on if it will look into your own or watch your lips, dampened from the small lick you gave them. his own lips were distracting you as well, the bottom one pulled in by his teeth, a habit he picked up when he was feeling conflicted. you wished he wasn’t such a hard man to read. the only definite you held onto right now was that he wanted to kiss you, reaffirmed when his eyes closed and his head ducked to meet your own.

“harry,” you place a hand on his exposed chest, “i can’t kiss you.”

he knew why. he knew that it crossed the boundary you weren’t meant to cross again. but much like you that didn’t want to stop him. so, despite himself, harry ignored your remark and hesitantly placed his lips on yours. the feeling of his kiss muted the sounds around you and in desperation you urged him to kiss you harder. no matter the height difference between the two of you, harry and you still felt perfectly matched. harry’s hands came into your tangled hair and gripped at the top of your neck, his lips even firmer against yours at the new angle. this was far more passionate then last night, and you were seeing harry in a whole new light. he wasn’t just your friend, an unrequited love and now a one time sexual partner but something more on par with your own emotions. harry’s zealous kiss seemed to correspond with all the feelings you had never spoken about him. but then he pulled away, leaving you empty again. you frowned at him, “why did you stop?”

he simply smiled back at you, soothing your nerves, and took your hand as he pulled you through the crowds to a curtained doorway. the room he took you to was a semi circle, the wall surrounded by a settee, and the floor was carpeted and plush with cushions and blankets. it reminded you of a harem, which made you question harry’s choice of destination. it was far quieter in here, the music now a dull bass in the background.

“why are we in here?” you looked over to harry who had already taken a seat on the sofa.

“i thought you’d want more privacy,” he grinned at you. harry’s attitude towards the whole thing was starting to irritate you instead now. why was he acting like this whole thing was so casual? did it not affect him like it did you?

“you’re kidding right? what even is this?” you scoff at him, crossing your arms across your chest. you were pissed.

harry’s brows creased in confusion, “what’s the matter?”

“what’s the matter? how can you ask me that? things are different now harry and you know it.”

he knew it. he just couldn’t find the courage to tell you that he’d wanted things to be this way for the past 2 years. it’s why he was constantly cracking jokes or messing around with you, making you smile and laugh brought him more joy then anything else in his life. it’s why he was so overwhelmed by white hot jealousy when he saw your mouth around that arsehole sound tech’s dick.

“jesus, y/n we’re friends aren’t we? why do we have to talk about that anyway, we’re having fun.”

“because harry,” you huff at him, “unlike you my feelings are a little bruised from last nights events.”

his eyes momentarily filled with guilt, “i know that was- not decent of me.”

“uh you think? i love you harry but you’re not pulling this crap on me again,” you tried to sound stern but his eyes melted you. you looked away but his hand reached for yours. this was it though. your temper had gotten the better of you and you were ready to leave him here and say goodbye to any relationship you formerly had with him. if he did anything again to you like he did last night you were sure your dignity would crumble into unfixable pieces. sighing, you finish off by telling him, “i can’t do this anymore harry.”

“i don’t want to lose you,” harry’s eyes were filled with pleading.

“you should have thought about that before i put your cock in my mouth,” you snapped at him. you hated to admit that saying out loud what you and harry had done had turned you on immensely. harry’s pupils dilated in synchronisation with yours. he played right into this.

“so you’d never do it again?” why was he asking you this?

“no. i wouldn’t.” he wouldn’t get the satisfaction of knowing what he did to you anymore. even though the sight of him with his half buttoned silk shirt, damp with sweat as he lounged on the settee, his high waisted trousers spread apart along his long legs made your legs feel like mush. your voice was so convincing that harry’s face fell and in an instant you wanted to eat your words.

“y/n, i’m sorry if i overstepped,” he stood up and wiped his hands on his trousers, “do you wanna just go back to being friends?”

there was only one right answer to that question;

“fuck no.”

you jumped harry then and there and he fell back onto the padded seat, hands strongly gripping your waist. you quickly kissed him and in shock you retreated, your eyes locking, before connecting your lips with him again. his hands move south to your hips and then to your buttocks, giving your scantily clad cheeks a squeeze. you knew from a past discussion harry was an ass man, after a few drinks together one night you were talking about likes and dislikes. it reminded you of one preference in particular. grabbing a fistful of his hair, you tugged it gently and an audible moan fell in between his lips against yours.

“fuck, y/n do that again,” he mumbled into your mouth and you responded with another pull on his curls. his hips jerked up to meet the middle of your legs and between the thin material of his trousers and nothing covering your crotch other then the thin material of your underwear, little was left to the imagination. you could feel harry’s erection growing the more your hand tangled into his hair. your bare thighs clutched tightly by harry’s hands and you could tell they were longing to hold your bare ass. with your other hand on harry’s bicep, you moved it down to his hand and guided it up along your cheek and he hummed in satisfaction.

“hey harry,” you spoke into the kiss, “you remember california?”

how could he forget- you had spent the whole day drinking on the beach and that was where you had confessed about all your likes and dislikes, giggling like little kids the whole time. who knew that several months later that secret information would become so beneficial?

“what about it?” he asked as your lips traced down his neck to his chest.

“do you remember what i told you?”

a switch flipped in harry’s head and he suddenly knew what you wanted. his thigh came between your legs and you put your weight onto it eagerly, and his hands rocked you back and forth on the cotton of his slacks. the friction was exactly what you needed and you had never been more thankful that harry had listened so intently to your confession; you loved dry humping.

harry’s gaze was on you as you continued to grind on him, and the sight was enough to turn him from semi to fully hard.

“does that feel good?” harry asked you and you were too shy to answer him, only whimpering in response, “tell me y/n.”

“it feels so good harry,” you moaned out. your pace had begun to quick as you needily searched for your release. you could feel your wetness seeping into the material against his thigh and a faint squelching noise could be heard underneath your mewls of satisfaction. your hand fell across the bridge of his nose, outlining his sharp cheekbone and rest along his neck, licking his lips as he watches you get yourself off on him.

on a normal occasion, you’d be too embarrassed to ever ride someone’s thigh, it made you the centre of their attention and that frightened you. but knowing that harry’s undivided recognition was different. you loved having his hands and eyes all over your body. not that he knew, but it was his after all. if he wanted it to, it could belong to him.

“harry,” you gasped, “i’m going to cum.”

to know he was about to witness your undoing just like you’d seen his thrilled him.

“cum for me y/n,” harry pushed your hips for you, gripping the flesh of your ass, and rolling you back and forth till you let out a sob as you came all over his thigh. your forehead fell onto harry’s shoulder as you recollected yourself. that was the first time you had ever cum just from humping. and it was on harry’s leg. the familiar blush crept up your arms to your neck and cheeks and you couldn’t bare to lift your head off of harry’s shoulder.

“y/n,” harry’s voice gently interrupted, “not to rush you or anything but my trousers really are soaked.”

his fingers slid down your thighs to help you off of his leg, your own like that of a baby deer. you weren’t expecting harry to unbuckle his belt and slip his trousers off his legs, the thick wet patch taking up a lot of the fabric.

“what are you doing?”

“well you don’t expect me to keep them on do you?”

“i sort of thought you’d just leave again.”

harry’s face flushed in shame, “i am really sorry i did that last time, y/n. it was a dick move.”

“just a little,” you give him a half smile to let him know you couldn’t stay mad at him. stood in awkward silence, your panties dripping with your cum and harry in nothing but a shirt and boxers, you didn’t know what to say. it wasn’t common  that you’d find an uncomfortable lack of words to say to harry.

finally, after one too many moments in silence, harry beckoned you with his finger, “c’mere.”

suddenly you found yourself snugly wrapped in his arms, your cheek to his chest as he held you.

“harry i-“

“don’t just yet please.”

so you stayed that way for a little longer. you realised that this could be the last chance you hold him like this, so you mentally noted every last thing about him you loved. his smell, typically of gucci, but underneath the artificial scent a more clean, personal one of clean bedding and shampoo. his arms, and how their length seemed to engulf you better than any of the softest, plushest bedding in existence. his lips that you could feel on the top of your head and how the feeling of them on your own was tattooed to you now. you knew that if you ever kissed anyone in the future it couldn’t penetrate the lasting layer of his.

he pulled away from you a few moments later, looking down over you. searching his eyes for any clues to his own thoughts from under your lashes, you found nothing. it didn’t mean you were expecting what came next.

as you started, “i understand if you don’t want to do this anymo-“

“i love you.”

the words hung in the air in stunned silence, and you were in too much of a state of shock to know how to take them. he loved you? was he saying the way he always did or did he mean he loved you the way you loved him?

“harry you don’t mean that you.. does that mean you, like, love-me-love-me?” you sounded like a teenager, your juvenile question was all you could muster up.

“i’ve always loved you y/n,”

“i know you have bu-“

“will you just let me finish please?” his fingers pressed against your lips to silence you, “you always talk without actually listening. let me a second please.

“i realised that you’ve never been my friend. don’t interrupt. you were never my friend because you were always like way more than that. friend seemed too small a word for us, you know? and then that day after i saw you and that shitty sound tech fucking in your room i was so angry and jealous and then i realised how much i wanted to be in his place. but you and me had already had such a good relationship i was worried i would ruin it by changing our dynamic. then on the night i met camila, you were so distant from me. i was upset and camila was into me so i was going to fuck her, but i couldn’t. i haven’t had sex with anyone since i saw you and-“

“his name was josh.”

“y/n i really couldn’t give a fuck what his name was. but anyway last night that prick wouldn’t leave you alone and i had to do something, and i wasn’t planning on taking things where they went but by the time you’d brought up my tattoos i was in too deep. i hate that i left you last night. i wanted to say all of this then, but i was too scared. so i left and hoped things would go back to normal between us. but our normal is nothing compared to what we had last night.”

overwhelmed, you sat down on the settee, leaning back to accommodate all of this information.

“so you want to be with me?” you asked him, still not believing it for yourself.

harry beamed at you, “i know, crazy right?”

“i just- i,” you stuttered over your lack of words.

“you don’t have to feel the same why i just figured it was best to be honest.”

you couldn’t help it, but you snorted at him, “you’re kidding right? i have not wanted anything more in my entire life.“

harry knelt down in front of you, and from this height you to were level. you could see eye to eye as equals now. his lips came to your forehead and softly kissed you there, your eyes fluttering closed. it was contentment to know he was finally yours. moving even closer to you, harry moved your legs aside and came between them and you had to prevent him from getting too close so your still-damp panties didn’t come into contact with his expensive shirt.

“you know,” you could feel harry’s lips turn upwards into a smirk on your forehead, “this means you don’t have to feel quite as worried about me fucking you anymore. i’m yours now, y/n.”

he lowered onto the back of his heals, taking his head to the level of your breasts, and he moved back a bit to take in the sight of you. you had to have been a mess, your black eyeliner probably smudged and your hair knotted around your head. your legs were still wide apart, giving harry the greatest opportunity to see under your little tartan skirt.

his pupils widen at the sight, “i can’t believe i’ve never seen you in a skirt like this before. you look so cute in it. it gives me great opportunity to do this,” his hands slid up your thighs slowly and surely, eventually coming down so that they were on the inside of your legs, just before your crotch. you were at his mercy at this angle, and he used it to his advantage. his long fingers brushed up against your clothed core and you whimpered at the sensitivity.

“are you still sore from earlier?”

you nodded and swallowed the nervous lump in your throat. his fingers moved up towards your hips, bumping your clit in the process and grabbed the sides of your tight underwear. pulling them down your legs, he got to see your pussy for the very first time. mouth practically salivating at the sight of your already wet lips, he began kissing along the insides of your legs, working inwards from the knee. he stopped at the edge of your thighs, teasing you with no touch. you hips were writhing at the need for contact and he pinned your thighs down, restricting you.

“i want to undress you first.”

his nimble fingers make quick work of the tiny buttons on your cardigan and it only just occurred to you that you’re not wearing a bra underneath. your bare sternum is exposed and you can tell harry is surprised to find you completely naked behind the cardi. slipping it off your shoulders, your perky breasts are finally unleashed for harry’s viewing.

“we never fucked,” you blurred out.

“what do you mean?”

“me and josh never had sex. i haven’t actually had sex in about two years.”

harry’s jaw sunk slightly at your confession, “but- how haven’t you?”

you felt embarrassed by this. no one ever compared to harry so why would you waste your time on them? you mostly only fooled around with josh because you needed a distraction from harry’s constant sex appeal.

“well josh and me never actually got around to it since he left the crew and aside from him there hasn’t been anyone else.”

you couldn’t believe you were saying this to him right after he’d undressed you, the air con hardening your nipples. harry couldn’t really concentrate on what you were saying, especially when his name was mentioned and your breasts were on full display to him. ignoring your rambling, harry’s mouth came down onto your right nipple, circling it with his tongue and ending your words with a gasp. your nipples were more sensitive then you’d initially realised, or maybe it was just because it was harry’s mouth encapsulating them, but the sensation felt like enough to make you cum from that alone.

“harry, i,” you sighed out breathily. sentences weren’t able to be formed presently, it was all too much. not for harry though, who had no qualms about saying, “i want to fuck you in nothing but that little skirt.”

you tried to press your thighs together, his words jolted down to your clit and you needed some kind of release. harry’s mouth went back to your boobs and down the valley in the middle, licking down it, to your pierced belly button and finally his head disappeared under your skirt. you instinctively placed your feet up on either side of the sofa to spread your pussy even further for his access.

his tongue mercilessly licked up from your taint to your clit and you bucked in delight.  the muscle of his tongue pressed hard against the sensitive ball of nerves in quick movements, lapping at it rhythmically. you couldn’t control the volume of your moans now, cussing incoherently to him. but it wasn’t enough, you needed harry fully.

pulling his hair, you were so close to cumming but you couldn’t let it happen yet, not till he’d been inside you.

“harry stop,” you manage to get out, “i need you in me.”

he drew back as soon as you spoke and you leant forward to unbutton his shirt, but you lost your balance as you go forward, falling on top of him onto the cushioned floor. you both burst into giggles at your clumsiness, it was something that you joked about a lot together. you hadn’t loved anyone more then you loved harry right now, his chuckles like music to your ears as you lay on him nearly naked, his curls sat on his forehead.

“i love you,” harry told you, his hand cupping your cheek from below.

“i love you too,” leaning to kiss him, you moved your hand down and gripped his erection, forcing a moan from his lips, “now make love to me.”

he wasted no time in finishing off unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, and you ground your hips into his erection, forcing a groan from his lips. you were so close to feeling harry inside you, only boxers in the way of you two. you sat back and slipped them off his hips. before you got a chance to line him up with your walls, harry interrupted you, “are you in birth control?”

“yes,” you blushed. he smirked at you as he grabbed his hard cock in his hand and positioned it with you. you sunk down ont his cock, sighing is feel yourself being filled. you had craved this feeling for far too long, and harry filled you so well.

“fuck, y/n,” harry’s eyes closed when you engulfed him fully. adjusting, you began to bob up and down on his dick slowly, getting used to the foreign sensation. it stung a little bit as you hadn’t been filled in so long, but the need for harry numbed any of the pain. harry’s sweaty hands came up to cup your breasts, playing with your nipples as you began to quicken your pace.

“how do i feel inside you? does it feel good?”

you could only nod back, his cock hitting your g spot so well from this angle. as you began to speed up, your tits bounced delectably in front of harry’s face and he had to take over dominance, slamming his hips up to meet your own. his erection pounded into you, your mouth eliciting depraved whines. your skirt was swinging around your barely clothed ass and giving harry only sneaky glimpses of how the two of you were connected.

with harry’s hips moving more erratically, you could tell he was close.

you leant your mouth into his ear to whisper, “i want you to cum inside me.”

that was enough to tip harry over the edge, and so you could both finish together he reached his thumb under your skirt and thumbed your clit, sending your body into a heavenly orgasm. harry unloaded into your walls as you clenched around him, the both of you finishing in unison. flopping down onto his chest, he left his cock in you, both too fucked out to move yet. when he had softened, he slipped out of you, making you wince at the feeling.

“so,” you said into harry’s chest, “does that mean you’re mine now?”

his hand rubbed the small of your back, “i’m yours.”