#i spent like three hours setting up a better pose only for it not to work so i'm very bitter towards this one

[akirakirxaa]

Auraugust Day 14: Serpentine

[tinydeskwriter]

Safe Harbor in a Storm (Dirty Trick. Part II)

A/n: I tried🤷🏻‍♀️

word count: 1473

2023 Grammy’s Award Night

The cameras flashes were blinding. Tonight especially, it seemed brighter than usual.

The frantic photographers screaming her name and asking for a new pose. She gave them her million dollars smile and posed to the camera, relaxing a little feeling her husband’s hand in her small back, drawing circles with his finger against the black lace of her naked dress. His hands eventually found hers against her growing belly—something that happens often since she announced her pregnancy the year before, it had been almost impossible to keep it a secret with her protective, affectionate husband always putting his hands on her, caressing ‘their’ bump— camera flashes fire more aggressively.     

The award season was their last ‘work related commitments’ before their baby birth in late may, they planned to welcome their lil nugget in London, close to his family and their closest friends—after a month long babymoon in Italy, full hours under the sun by the beach, delicious pastries and pastas— she would have three months of recover and then they would be on the road again—with their newborn—, going from one country to another.

Y/n loved how dedicated her husband was to her and their growing little family. 

Her heart felt ready to burst with love at the sight of the handsome Brit she had married a year and a half ago. 

Andrew was truly her dream man. All she ever wished a husband would be. It was like she had dreamed her perfect man he be became true.

They met through mutual friends a month after her painful break up with Harry. She went out with friends to celebrate that her ex had just take the rest of his stuff from her house. It had been hard, even with her ultimatum, Harry went forward with what Jeff though better, and for some reason the man had convinced himself that he would be able to sweet talk his way out of losing her. He failed to understand that Y/n Y/l/n was no man’s pretty little fool, she was no weakling and would never band to his wills, he wanted the PR stunt? Fine, she wouldn’t be the fool waiting for him to come home after he spent the day making out with his geriatric director.

As she prophetically old him: in a month, she’ll have moved on. 

Harry showed up to pick the rest of his shit as she was getting ready for a night out, he bagged and nearly cried, but she was unmovable. 

After she only wanted a strong drink and to forget, and that was the night she met Andrew… properly. They had met before over the years in award shows and mutual friends house parties, but never had been properly introduced. That night they talked… for hours. And by the end of the night Andrew had asked her out. She had wanted to say ‘no’, but something in his honest brown eyes made her give him her number. 

Their first date happened in LA, she arrived one and a half hours late,  he was patiently—and anxiously—waiting for her in a booth, and when he smiled at her and ignored her tardiness, that’s when she new that he was something special.

He was patient and gentle and kind, and less than a year after their first date they tied the knot in a small ceremony at Islington Town Hall, North London.

She had loved Harry, but Andrew had been game-changer.

He made an afford. He made time. He went out of his way to visit her on set in Australia and pretended that it was nothing ‘I’ve been wanting to try the waves around here’ he told her with a smile as he delivered a bouquet of sunflowers and her favorite chocolates that were found only in a particular little store in LA.

She proposed to him the same night Harry had drunken called her, and she realized that all the butterflies she had once felt hearing his voice were now death, but Andrew? His gentle soft gaze and raspy sleepy voice was able to wake a whole zoo in her stomach. She proposed in bed, no ring, nothing, they’re half sleeping, and he answer with ‘yes, sure’.

The very next day he gave her the yellow gold with sustainable diamonds engagement ring he had bought weeks before. They spent two months living together in Sydney, before moving in together and New York, before agreeing that London would be the best place to grow a family in the future.

They got married in the Spring in London, only two witnesses and no paparazzi in sight—they had a jewish ceremony two days later—. The newly wedded A-list couple shocked the world, no one knew they are a couple to begin with.

Fans shipped them. Haters criticized the fifteen years age gap. Media emphasized how odd a couple they made: Glam Hollywood Siren, Y/n Y/l/n and dorky, adorable, Andrew Garfield.

Harry called again after finding out, he was clearly drunk and probably on something else, ‘You’re really that delusional that you thought that I would wait around for you?’she had stated with refinements of cruelty when he finished his rambling. He asked her if she had married ‘that guy’—Andrew was always that guy to Harry— to spite him, to which she honestly told him ‘My directional debut was to spite you. You’re the last thing on my mind when I married Andrew, you killed the butterflies, and he woke the zoo…Andrew is in his own category, his own brand of masculinity, he’s far too amazing to be compared, and I love him, I love him, and he loves me back, he puts me first, he takes me into consideration in his decisions, he never hurt me, and I never doubt him.’

You were a hurricane, but he’s the safe harbor during a storm I always craved for. She never tells him. 

That was the last time they talked, and it has been almost two and a half years since she last saw him.

“You’re the most gorgeous women in this event, and I am the luckiest men.”Andrew said in her ear, making her blush and smile. 

“No need to sweet talk me, luv, we’re married already, and I am carrying your glorious spawn.” She joked, making him throw his head back and laugh.

She smiled bigger and turned her head to look at him. She was truly a lucky woman.

Y/n turned her head after hearing the screams in the red carpet. 

Her smile falter a little, their eyes met for a second—of course he would be here, he was nominated to seven awards—, for a moment she can swear she sees sadness and regret in his green eyes as he takes her in. She smiles brighter—a fake smile, but no one apart from the two men in the red carpet knows— and greets him from a distance, like they were never more than old acquaintances, like they never were engaged, like they never loved each other.

He made his choice. She made hers.

Life moves on.

She left him in her past. Harry Styles was a sentence in the book of her life. 

Andrew is her present and her future.

Harry was jus the guy that wrote songs about her but were never man enough to go against his management and claim her public.

She looks ahead as Andrew and her are guided through the carpet by a assistent.

[trainsinanime]

While I was initially very negative on Starfield, I find myself playing more and more of it recently. I'm still negative about it, but it did get me hooked (and I got better at aiming with a controller instead of keyboard and mouse). Some random notes.

First of, the Bethesda RPG has always been a game is broad but shallow. Lots of world, lots of different mechanics, lots of lore and story, but generally nothing of it is that in-depth. There's not much moral decision making; the only thing that goes into much depth is combat; you find a lot of places but you can quickly tell that they're made out of the same basic building blocks; stories are ultimately fairly straightforward and so on.

Between the past three games, each of them have found different balances between breadth and depth. I'm going to count Skyrim as the default because I didn't get far into Morrowind and never played Oblivion or Fallout 3 or New Vegas, and Skyrim has a balance that I personally like a lot.

Fallout 4 goes for less breadth, more depth. Compared to Skyrim's four major and four minor cities, F4 essentially has just two cities on a level even vaguely approaching, say, Whiterun. There are far fewer companions, but they are better written, better fleshed out and just way more fun to hang out with. Back in Skyrim the closest we had to a good companion was Serena, and looking back, that's not that much. Where Fallout 4 added a lot of stuff was base building, and I spent way too many hours there.

Starfield is mechanically way closer to "Fallout 4" in space than to "Skyrim in space", from the weapons with the millions of different types of ammunitions through the levelling system and so on. But on the shallow/deep scale, it is incredibly broad and very shallow, and it shows.

Three cities sounds better than Fallout 4, but among all the many planets, it's hardly a lot. And while these cities are bigger than what you see elsewhere, they're also still not that big, featuring sci-fi city, sci-fi Wild West city, and the least impressive cyberpunk dystopian city ever.

But my main issue is with all the other places in the world. No matter where you are on a planet, you're typically between 500 and 1000 m from something, and that something is typically a human-built thing. And 99.9% of the time, that human-built thing is boring. Some abandoned facility overrun with gangsters. Some outpost full of people all named "Colonist" or "Scientist" with exactly one auto-generated quest. You can visit these places, but there is generally no reason to.

Sometimes you think, "oh, I found a place with the trademark Bethesda environmental storytelling", but then it doesn't actually tell a story. I found a mine where some disaster happened. All the miners were dead, but apparently from different reasons. There was no audio log or similar explaining what happened, no story here. I never found what the deal with that mine was…

…until a few hours later, when I found that very same mine again. Different planet, this time the rocks were orange instead of grey, but it was the same mine, the same layout, the same NASA lab coat under the bed, and the same dead miners in the same poses died by the same fallen barrels. In retrospect that makes sense, there are way too many locations on the planets, of course they're gonna repeat (I also saw the same Helium generating station twice). But it once more tells me, "oh, right, exploring here was actually pointless".

Exception exist, but even the bespoke unique places don't tell that much of a story. The scrap operation set up around a former battle site full of destroyed giant mechs? Yeah, the story there is you talk to a guy, and that guy will sell you a map, and that's it. Some great visuals, though. Another example: I've found two abandoned luxury destinations, a zero-G casino and an island resort. Both overrun with pirates. What's the story between them? What's their secret? Well, there doesn't seem to be any, it's just a nice-looking place. We can guess at some secrets to pass the time, but that's it.

For example, the island resort is clearly meant to be a sleazy thing with lots of stripper poles throughout and discarded clothes and money around them. But the only non-pirate person was the corpse of the owner, and there don't seem to be any sleep rooms for anyone who isn't a visitor. Clear implication: Clearly the owner was doing all the stripping. The bigger mystery there is that the place has an outdoor lounge and pool area, on a planet with zero oxygen in the atmosphere. How did that work? Or will I eventually find the same exact establishment, with a different name, on a different planet?

So why am I playing anyway? Well, because of base building and Factorio. The base building here is very limited, sometimes for plausible reasons (I guess it makes sense that you can't freely build houses, only stick predefined modules together; makes it easy for the game to track what is safe indoors and what is potentially lethal outdoors) and sometimes for no good reason (give me ladders and walkways! Why can I stack storage thingies six layers high if I can't access them afterwards!?). The Factorio elements, where I find resources, then build transport links, then build constructors that automatically assemble things, that's just fun, at least for me personally (note: I am weird). It is arguably pointless, at least as far as I can tell right now, because you don't actually need the built stuff for anything. I assume "automatic manufacturing of all that goddamn ammunition" will be in an expansion pretty soon.

In conclusion: I dunno. Skyrim's way better but I am enjoying my time with this game still. All this is just thoughts that have been running through my head for the past week or so playing that game.

[tripthelightfandomtastic]

Heart of my Heart -J.T.K

Author’s Note: This is the final installment of my Royalty Series. I’ve made one of these period pieces for each boy set in this era, none of them are connected but I just wanted to explore the genre. WOW THIS TOOK FOREVER but i wanted this one to be special. The idea for this one actually inspired the entire series. I got a request AGES AGO like around the start of my account so about the beginning of march? Asking for a story inspired by that photo of Jake posing on a throne taken a few years ago and I couldn't get it out of my mind. I really do adore all of this series and I hope you have all enjoyed it as well. If you haven’t yet, please go read the other three in the Royalty Series, Shining Armor D.R.W, Whiplash J.M.K and Muse S.F.K.

Synopsis: After months of Jake’s absence, stress over planning a coronation, and countless days spent without your lover, finally the day has arrived for a new King to be crowned and damn does he look good in a crown.

Word Count: 6.5K (it's pretty lovey dovey up in this castle)

Pairing: King!Jake x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Foul language, lots of pining, alcohol mention, oral, light dom/sub, raw sex (Wrap it before you tap your new King)

Heart of my Heart - J.T.K

Only a few more hours. Only a few more finishing touches. Just a few more precious moments and it would be here. “A little higher… keep going… yes! Ah! It's perfect! It looks wonderful, I think the garlands really tie it all together.” You praise your servants as they finish hoisting the large flower arrangements in the throne room all for the upcoming events of tomorrow. This day has been coming for a long time, the day where Jake would finally be taking his rightful place as King. The vision of Jake’s face when the soon to be former King decreed it one evening at the festival of the harvest moon will forever be a special memory. 

It was a beautiful evening of dancing, drinking and merriment amongst the people of the kingdom, surrounded by your friends and family when the King made an announcement at the height of the events. You and your husband, Jake, watch as his father calls for the attention of the crowd. Many well dressed Lords and Ladies all quiet down as the King smiles as he looks out at the full hall of the guests. “Today is a joyous occasion, one of a successful harvest, one of happiness and of festivity. I want to thank you all for being a part of what is to be a very historical evening.” The King’s voice bellowed throughout the hall, Jake and you shared a glance, you gave him a smile and a gentle squeeze to his arm that you’re holding. “For this evening is special for more than just a celebration for the kingdom's abundance, but for something even greater.” He continues. Jake turns to you with a look of subtle confusion, one that you mirror right back to him.

“What a better way to celebrate new beginnings and prosperity than by bringing new life to this kingdom with a coronation!” The King’s voice rings out in pride, a smile wide and cheery upon his face, the crowd begins to buzz with excited chatter, the Queen, Jake’s mother, smiles up at her husband, tears of joy brimming in her eyes. You grasp Jake’s arm hard as you look at him, his eyes unmoving from his father. “I am pleased to announce that I will be stepping down as your king and will be passing my crown on to my son, Prince Jacob Thomas Kiszka.” The crowd roars with cheers and applause. The King turns to you and Jake, beaming with delight. 

Jake steps toward his father, “Father, I-” “You’re ready.” He smiles, the look of never ending pride for his son makes your heart sore. 

“I’ll make you so proud.” 

“You already have.” His father says, a single tear rolling down his face as he pulls Jake into a tight hug. It was a blur after that, not only from the over celebration of meade and wine but of the smiles and tears and praise that came after that. Ever since that night a few months ago, you have been preparing the biggest coronation this kingdom has ever seen, and come morning, it will all come to fruition. 

Now here you are, standing in the grand hall, just a few hours away from the real thing with all of the final touches in place. “There you are!” Jake’s voice calls to you from across the room. You turn to find him smiling at you, a look of relief washing over him as your eyes meet. Jake has been running ragged these last few months as well, the two of you have hardly had a day together since the king's announcement. It’s been ball after ball, meetings with clergymen, lessons in the kingdom’s agriculture, trade deals and insider talks, day after day. The stress of all his father’s responsibilities being passed down unto him has been difficult. He’s been up at odd hours of the night, reading doctrines and old journals of his fathers and responding to letters of the kingdom's allies by candlelight in his study, leaving you in a cold and empty bed. You know better than to add on to his stress, making yourself his soft place to land, knowing you are his only reprieve during these times. You know Jake will be a wonderful king, not a single doubt in your mind about it. He buries himself in his work because he cares and he wants to be king more than anything, it's been his dream since he was a child and here it is, ready for him to take. 

You make your way to your husband, happy to finally see his face, it's nearly midnight and you haven’t seen him since he kissed you and told you, ‘good morning’ at breakfast on his way out to a meeting with the equerry. He pulls you into a hug, holding you tightly as he surrenders to your gentle hold, letting him rest a moment, he closes his eyes and breathes you in. “I miss you.” He mumbles tiredly against your ear, his voice makes you want to just hide him away from the rest of the world and take care of him. It's no secret, Jake is exhausted. He puts on a very kind and patient demeanor but you know he is burning the candle at both ends. “I miss you, sweetheart.” You whisper back, trying your best not to let your emotions get the best of you. Jake stands straight, his hands gently holding yours, his eyes are tired, so much so that the golden hue of his brown eyes are nearly the shade of ash. 

He looks around at the hall, his smile grows as he takes in your masterful handiwork, “Oh, darling, it's beautiful. You really have outdone yourself.” He praises you as he turns to take it all in, his hand holding yours, bringing you to his side. “Only a few more hours.” You smile wistfully. “I love you so much.” Jake smiles, “I love you, my Prince.” You grin. “Just wanted to say it while it's still true.” Jake brings you closer to him, the warmth of his hands in yours makes you dread the moment you know he will pull away and be whisked off once more, who knows when you will see him again? You reach your hand to caress his cheek, your heart brimming over with all of the love you’ve been dying to share, “My love, I-”, “Your highness!” An anxious voice calls, interrupting your sentiments from down the hallway, making their way towards the great hall. You stop and retract your hand and bring it back to hold his hand once more, watching as a very out of breath tailor enters the hall. “Your highness! I have been searching all over for you!” The squatty and sweating looking man huffs. “What is it?” Jake asks concerned, “It’s your royal cape, your highness. It is customary you wear one for your coronation and I need to make the necessary adjustments to have it prepared for tomorrow.” He explains, you can see the frustration in Jake’s face as he nods to the tailor, “Of course, the cape.” He sighs as he turns back to you, giving you a swift kiss on the forehead, “I’ll come to bed later.” “Wake me when you do.” You request as he lets go of your hand, giving you one last smile before he walks on with the out of sorts tailor.

You stand in the middle of the empty hall alone, listening to the ever distancing steps of your beloved. You take a deep breath, wiping away a tear of irritation before taking one last look at your work. “One more day.” you whisper to yourself. One more day of crawling into a cold and empty bed. You fall asleep and wait for Jake to wake you.

He never does. You wake up alone. Jake must have forgotten to wake you. You can’t hardly blame him, he’s been so incredibly busy he mustn't have remembered. You are greeted by your ladies in waiting ready to get you dressed. You can’t help but sit at your vanity mirror and think of all of the things you wish you could have told Jake last night. Wondering how he must be feeling right now, how you wish you could see him and kiss him and just tell him how proud of him you are. 

You are dressed in a gown of such elegant beauty, hair curled and in ribbons, pinned perfectly in place. You smile as you take in your appearance, a satin dress of baby blue and gold, you and Jake would be dressed similarly as the new King and Queen of Nampara, it makes you smile and you feel somewhat silly about it but you can’t help but feel like you have a piece of him today like this. You spin your jeweled wedding ring anxiously around your finger as you walk down the halls towards the carriage, spinning the ring as though it would summon Jake to you. You cannot help but look down every single hallway you pass in hopes you will catch sight of your dear Jake. Alas, you don’t. 

You are whisked away to your carriage and set off down towards the cathedral where the coronation is to take place. Looking out the windows of your otherwise empty carriage, you watch as the townsfolk walk towards the church, dressed for the occasion. The entire city is alive with excitement, stores closed for the event as people line the street and smile and wave to you, their soon to be Queen. You cannot help but feel nervous, knowing that your whole life was about to change almost as much as Jake’s. A new title and a new set of responsibilities. 

This was of course something you always knew was bound to happen when you married the prince of the realm, but you never thought it would be this soon, or that you would feel this way. You always thought you’d feel more, ready? Prepared for the task of being Queen. But, there is something so thrilling about a new start. 

Finally, you are escorted inside of the cathedral, its high golden ceilings adorned with light blue flowers alongside the beautiful paintings of cherubs and saints that line the walls to ring in the momentous occasion. The church is packed, every inch of the pews are full of ambassadors from surrounding countries, allies of the crown, high ranking nobles, family and friends as well as the general public who are high above in the balcony that peers overhead. 

The organ plays and the choir sings and it's all truly happening. The King, Jake’s father, stands at the top of the steps, looking as though he is already about to shed a tear, standing alongside the archbishop. The crowd is silent as the horns sing out and there he is. Standing tall in all of his radiant glory, his eyes trained ahead as he walks slowly towards, quite literally, his future. He is dressed in utter finery, the same gold and blue as you as he walks assuredly. His hair looks soft and flows over the shoulders of his suit. His cape is as grand and intricate in golden designs of the stars, just as the tailor promised, trailing behind him in an elegant train of approximately eight feet, gliding along the long white marbled floor. He looks almost completely calm, this after all was what he was always meant to do.

Jake kneels before his father and the archbishop, taking his place on the stair below them upon the stage, his eyes cast downwards as the archbishop clears his throat to recite the oath. “Will you solemnly promise and swear to govern the Peoples of the Kingdom of Nampara?” His voice loudly projects along the walls of the gilded hall. “I solemnly swear it.” Jake replies as he lifts his head to look upon his father. You can feel your heart slam in your chest as your eyes begin to water with emotion. “Will you do all in your power for law and justice and in mercy, to be executed in all your judgements?” The archbishop asks, “I will.” Jake’s voice is sure and clear, his hand laying over his heart. 

“Will you do the utmost of your power to maintain the laws of this land? Will you maintain and preserve inviolably the doctrine, discipline, and government thereof, as by law established in Nampara?”

“I will.” He says with a proud smile. Jake’s father beams at his son as he gives him one last look before taking a sword in his hands from the silk pillow it rested upon, turning to him as he places the edge of the blade gently upon his shoulder as the archbishop speaks. “Almighty spirit everlasting, we beseech thee, pour out the spirit of thy grace and blessing upon this your servant King Jacob; that as by the imposition of our hands, he is this day crowned King, so he may, by thy sanctification, continue always thy chosen servant through the powers of this Earth.” The archbishop finishes as Jake’s father returns the sword to its place. 

The once King takes his large crown from his head and gently places it upon Jake’s head, he stands and turns before the crowd, smiling such a proud smile and you cannot keep yourself from crying as the entire crowd stands and applauds their new King. Jake looks at you and smiles, a tear running down his cheek, “I love you.” he mouths to you, “I love you.” you mouth back. 

The rest of the day moves by in a hurry. Waiving out from the terrace to the kingdoms subjects below, arm in arm with your husband the King, so many curtsies and bows to you and Jake as you meet all of the guests who have traveled far to be here, then finally making your way back to the castle for the feast and now here you are. Dancing with the love of your life with no one left but the two of you on the dancefloor of the grand hall, swaying back and forth to the music that is no longer playing, full of wine and mead. “Finally.” You whisper against his chest as you two dance, holding the other close.

“I’ve missed you so much.” Jake murmurs, his chin resting on the top of your head, his arms are strong as they hold you closer. “It’s so strange.” You say softly as you look around the room, “What is, dear?” Jake asks curiously. “We are finally alone.” You say with a sense of profound interest, almost worried that now that you’ve said it aloud, it would all melt away and Jake would be whisked off again to do some last minute duty. “It appears we are.” He says with a smile, he moves you to face him. “I am sorry I haven’t been present as of late.” His voice is full of resentment as he speaks, his eyes looking down at his shoes in disappointment, “There’s no need for apologies, my love, you’re here now. That’s all that matters.” You say kindly as you pull him in for a chaste kiss, happy to have your husband once again in your arms. 

Jake hums a tune as you two dance, you smile fondly, hoping to cement this memory to live forever in your mind. "I can't imagine doing this without you." Jake says soberly, his voice sentimental and sweet, you look up at him, the golden candle light that shines from the chandeliers above him glows like a halo around his long dark locks, shining through his crown. He looks almost entirely too small for it, it towers over him but you know it will fit him perfectly as time goes on. "You'll never have to do any of this without me, darling." You beam at him with nothing but adoration in your eyes. Jake's hand holds your face gently, you reciprocate and place both your hands on his cheeks. "My King." You whisper, he smiles with a chuckle, still getting used to the title. "My Queen." He rasps, his thumb runs over your cheek, his golden brown eyes dance between your eyes and lips before gently kissing you. 

It almost feels like the first kiss you've shared. In a way it kind of is, he's been away for so long, not just physically but when he was around, he wasn't mentally there, his mind full of things to do, tasks at hand and anxieties of the crown. He pulls you close to him and you can't help but feel as though you are floating off the ground. He deepens the kiss as his tongue runs along your own and you melt into him, wishing you could be closer than humanly possible, wanting to be part of his heart he could carry everywhere, never a moment missed again. 

Your hands take hold in his hair, he groans and you pull away, admiring the beauty of the man before you, painting his portrait in your mind's eye, to remember him as he is in this very moment. "Take me to the throne room." You request, your hands toying with the buttons of his coat, "I have a different room I'd much rather take you to." Jake smirks as he pulls you by the waist to kiss at your neck, "Please, Jake, I want to see something." Your voice trailing with mischief. Jake hums against your throat, "And what could that be?" He asks teasingly as he looks back at you. You merely take his hand and pull him behind you and into the hallway and down towards the throne room. 

The two of you giggle as you both drunkenly run about the castle, acting almost like the kids you used to be when you first met, carefree and with no responsibilities, living for the moment and playing hide and seek throughout all the halls and myriad of rooms that lay within the castle. You and Jake run hand in hand in the darkness of the hallways lit only by the sconces dancing with flames that draw long shadows on the stone floor, your bodies against the wall, hiding out of sight from any maids or anyone who might see you. Stifling laughter as you try to sneak not so quietly down the stairs and to the throne room. Jake throws the doors wide open as the two of you enter, the loud oak doors announcing your arrival to the emptiness before you. It's dark, lit only by a few sconces on the walls and the moon peering in through the stained glass windows, giving the room a blue hue upon the floors. 

"Wow, as expected, your highness, it's utterly and entirely empty." Jake pants as he catches his breath. "It's not empty! This is where the King sits!" You call out in the echoing hall. Jake grins, you turn to him with a wide smile. "I wanted to be the first one to see just how beautiful you look sitting upon that throne." You explain, still out of breath. Jake chuckles as he makes his way towards you, taking your hand in his. He leads you to the throne, up the carpeted steps and to the opulently carved throne. It's so perfectly crafted, handmade with the finest details, you had never been this close to the King’s throne before tonight, and here it is, suited just so perfectly for your husband. Jake turns to face you, his eyes give off a warmth of admiration, his eyes take in the beauty of your face in the pale moonlight that shines through the stained glass windows, like an angel or even a ghost glowing softly before him. He leans down and kisses you gently, his palm cradling your cheek, his hand is so soft and warm, you missed his gentle caresses, the taste of his lips, and the feeling of his body against yours, you missed him. 

He pulls away in a way that feels too soon, his thumb runs softly over your cheek. “I want to see you on your throne.” You repeat with a whisper. Jake smiles before letting go of your hand, you take a few steps back and watch as the new king takes a seat on his kingdom’s throne. He shifts in his seat a moment as he gets comfortable, placing both of his hands, half sure, on the arms of the massive throne. He looks out to the empty throne room, his eyes scanning the hall, taking in a deep breath and letting out a sigh of what almost seems like melting anxiety. “It's strange.” He says almost to himself. “I’m not playing pretend anymore.” He smiles wide, his eyes are full of emotion, taking in a deep breath before letting his eyes fall back on yours. You take your dress in your hands as you curtsy all the way to the floor, your head bowing to him with your hand over your heart. 

“Oh no, no no, you never have to do that for me.” Jake protests, standing and coming to you. He extends his hand. You right yourself and take his hand gently, “I mean it. You belong on this throne just as much as I do.” He says as he pulls you back to him, he takes a seat on the throne, giving you a suggestive look as he pats his knee. You giggle at his straight forwardness, “Yes, sir.” You tease as you sit in his lap. 

Jake’s arm snakes around your back and under your legs, pulling you more on his lap until you rest comfortably in his hold, “Perfect.” Jake whispers before kissing you once more. Every kiss Jake gives you only makes you want more. To make up for the months of time he came to bed late, every canceled dinner, every missed opportunity to just say, ‘hello’, and every waking moment he was gone taking on the responsibilities from his father of his soon to be kingdom. You exhale in contentment, your heart and soul feeling like, for the first time in ages, you are right where you are meant to be. You kiss Jake slowly as you take just a moment to really feel his lips against your own lips. You pull away, whispering against his lips, “I feel like this is the first time I’ve seen you in ages.” You say in disbelief. Jake hums in response, “But here we are.” He smiles that infectious smile that you cannot help but mirror. “I have missed you more than I could even begin to explain.” You whisper as you lean your forehead against his, placing your palm softly upon his face.

“It broke me not being able to see you. It felt like a part of me was missing, like someone reached inside of my chest and took my heart out.” Jake explains softly, his eyes searching yours, looking at you like you hold the universe in your hands. He moves his hand from your knee to your chest, placing his palm gently on your chest over your beating heart, a rush of heat washing over you as he leans into you, lips ghosting over yours as his thumb runs over your chest. “You are my heart.” He rasps, his voice quiet and true, full of a sort of peace. The sentiment nearly knocks you on the floor, his sweet words filling you with the warmth of his everlasting love. You place your hand against his own heart, "And you are mine." You smile. 

This time it's Jake that kisses you, his heart beats quicker under your palm and you can't stop yourself from shifting in his lap, moving to straddle him, wanting to be closer to him than before. Needing more of him and more of him now. His hands roam to rest on your waist and your hands take hold in his long hair. His tongue slips into your mouth and you can't keep yourself from rocking your hips against his, Jake groans gorgeously into your mouth. "I need you." He whispers almost pitifully to you in the darkness of the empty throne room. "Take me. Right here.” You reply, a spark of mischief in your eyes glimmer in the dark, bright enough to make Jake smirk as he pulls you back by your hair. You gasp as he leans forward and kisses roughly up your neck, teeth grazing over the skin, soft groans that could be categorized as growls leaving his pillowy lips. His hands come to your corset, pulling at the laces on the back of your dress, laces Jake has done and undone for you millions of times, yet your heart races just as hard as it did the very first time. True love with Jake feels as good if not more perfect than the years you had already spent together, his hands hold you just as tight, if not tighter, than your wedding night. 

“So sinful, baby. Wanting me here like this.” Jake grins against your collar bone as he pulls the material of the top of your dress down around your waist, exposing your bare breasts to him in the dim light from the moon through the stained glass that towers above you two. “What can I say, I love the way you look on a throne.” You smile as you bring his hands up to grope your tits, his fingers teasing at your hardening nipples, allowing your eyes to close and your head to fall back in ecstasy. Jake pulls you closer to him as he leans back on his throne, pulling you to bring his lips to wrap around one of your nipples, his jeweled hand grasping at the other. You let go a deep sigh, drinking in this moment, to finally have your husband back in your embrace, beneath your body where he belongs.

Jake hums against your breast as his teeth bite gently on your sensitive nipple, your eyes open to look at the gorgeous man beneath you. It’s been too long. Too long since you’ve felt him against you. Too long since you heard him moan your name. Too long since you tasted him. You can’t wait another minute. “I need to taste you.” You say in a rush, words all jumbled with the thirst for him on your tongue. Your hands work at his suit jacket, at the ornate buttons and pins, all beautiful finery sure, but you need to feel his skin under your palms, under your lips now. 

With the assistance of Jake’s own fumbling fingers, you work his suit and shirt open but leave it on just enough so you can see his gorgeously sculpted torso. The soft skin of his belly, the beauty of his torso and muscular chest bathed in the glow of blue light from the moon gives him an ethereal radiance that only makes him look more royal than he does in a crown. You move from his lap, standing before immediately deciding to take your place on your knees before your King. You look at Jake as he’s gripping the arms of the throne, you smile as you lean forward and kiss down his chest, teeth and tongue skating over his soft skin, so warm, just how you remembered when you would lay in bed and think of Jake and what it would feel like if he were right beside you.

You smile to yourself as Jake lets out a shaky sigh, the anticipation almost being too much for the new King as your satin soft lips kiss lovingly and oh so slowly down his stomach. Jake’s crown slides down his head as he watches you descend closer to the edge of his breeches. He takes the crown off and lets it hang off the arm of the throne near you, his hair a beautiful mess in its wake. Your hands slide slowly up Jake’s soft pant covered legs, up his knees, nails dragging up as your hands come to his thighs, Jake inhales with a small hiss in pleasure. “I’ve been dreaming of this… having you like this.” You confess as your hands come to the fastenings of his neatly tailored breeches. “I would be lying if I said I hadn’t thought of something similar.” Jake whispers as you reveal his hardened cock. It springs up to rest against his stomach, so hard and already leaking precum, you greedily take him in your hand and stroke him before making a bold stripe up his length and licking the salty sweet bead of precum from the head of his cock.

“Fuck.” Jake sighs softly, eyes fluttering as you bring him slowly more and more into your mouth. You moan around him as your eyes close in pleasure at the feeling of him against your tongue. Fuck, you missed this. Something so beautiful about having Jake sitting on his throne while his hand weaves into your hair, dull nails scratching over your scalp while he takes hold of your hair, losing himself as he begins to slowly and intentionally push you down on his length. Your eyes meet his as you take him down as far as you can until you gag around him, your eyes water but you would rather die than pull away from him. "Oh God, oh baby, I missed this." Jake groans, his head rolling against the back of the velvet of the throne, further messing up his beautiful long dark hair, lost in the feeling of it all. You increase your speed, savoring the way his stomach muscles look when he flexes them in an effort to control himself and his breathing. Living for the moans of your name intermingled with the curses of passion in Jake's voice that only makes the wetness between your thighs grow. You can't help but clench your thighs together for some kind of release, Jake can tell by the change in pitch of your moans, something only your lover could know. He smirks as he extends his leg out between your knees. "Pretty little pathetic baby, getting so wet just from sucking my cock?" Jake teases in a gorgeously low tone. 

You moan around his cock in response, your eyes pleading with him for more friction. Jake smiles before pulling you off of his cock, he stands from his throne taking his crown from the arm of the chair and placing it on your head. You look up at him from your knees, drool running down your chin, breasts exposed, hair a mess, cheeks flushed and eyes watering all while looking at the love of your life who is standing tall above you, half dressed in his finery and you feel like you are looking at a God. 

"So pretty like this, all fucked out already and I haven't even touched you. You are perfect." He rasps as he runs his hand over your face, fingers sweeping your messy hair from your forehead and behind your ear and fixing the heavy crown that rests on your head. "I'd have a portrait made of you just like this to keep for the rest of my days, angel." He smirks as he moves his leg between your thighs again, you sit yourself down on his shoe. "Wanna watch you grind against my leg while you suck my cock. Show your King how much you've missed him." He whispers, taking his cock in his hand and running the warm tip over your lips, you can't help but sigh at the feeling. "Yes, sir." You whimper, Jake smirks before slowly entering your mouth. You groan in tandem with Jake as you bring him deep inside your mouth while grinding against his leg, both of your hands wrapped desperately around his thigh while Jake's hand rests on the back of the crown on your head, guiding you up and down on his cock. 

Jake stands with his mouth agape, looking out into his throne room, a self-confident grin as he is overcome with his new sense of power. His grip on you tightens as he begins to fuck your face, you moan around him in pleasure as tears fall down your hot cheeks as you chase a beautiful release while Jake uses your mouth. Jake groans and moans so loudly, the sound ruining your panties as you rut yourself pathetically against his leg, your nails digging into the fabric as you seek more of him. Jake's breathing is falling out of rhythm and so are his thrusts, "Oh fuck, ahh." Jake groans as he pulls you from his cock. You gasp for breath, your head resting wearily against his thigh as you slowly continue grinding against his leg, desperate for touch knowing damn well it's not enough, but the spectacle above you is well worth it. 

Jake searches for breath, his face is flushed and his hair sticks to his forehead as his eyes search the ornate ceiling. You whine against his thigh as you continue your motions, "Please, your majesty, I need more. Need you." You whimper needily into the clothed muscle of his thigh. Jake's hand comes to yours, practically declawing you from him, "Come here." He whispers before pulling you up onto shaking knees. "Oh pretty baby, I'll give you more." He smiles before kissing you hard and spinning you masterfully around to sit on the throne. 

Pulling your dress up, Jake exposes your legs, taking your place down on his knees as he kisses up your calves and your thighs, nipping softly at the flesh beneath making you gasp and sigh. "My Queen." He whispers, kissing your thighs before his thumb runs over the soaked fabric of your panties making you sigh wistfully. "Need to taste you, I haven't been able to get the thought of it out of my mind." He confesses before pulling your panties gently down your legs. His large hands keep your legs open as he descends to your core, his tongue sliding up your folds and coming to swirl around your clit. "Oh, Jake." You moan softly as he laps at your pussy, making work of your clit. His head and shoulders disappear under your dress, something about the inability to see the motions of your lover between your thighs is incredibly erotic as he begins to suck on your clit, making your head fall against the velvet throne in euphoria. "Fuck, oh fuck Jake, oh god." You moan, your desperate cries bounce off the walls of the empty room as Jake begins to tongue fuck your pussy. 

You're so close, your thighs begin to shake against his hold on the soft expanse of your skin. "Oh fuck, baby, I'm-" You choke out only for Jake to pull away, your climax fading away once again. He emerges from under your dress, chin and lips glistening with your own arousal. "Jake-" "I wanna cum with you." He interrupts before quickly and fiercely kissing you, the taste of your wetness evident on his tongue makes you moan in his mouth. 

"I won't last for long." Jake says between kisses as he stands, "Neither will I." You reply as Jake brings you to sit on the arm of the throne, hiking up your dress as he makes his way in between your thighs. Jake strokes himself a moment before running his cock through your folds, you moan at just the feeling of him finally where you need him the most. He presses into you with little resistance, stretching you out in a way you have been waiting for for months. Both you and Jake cry out in pure pleasure, a bliss missed by the both of you as he fills you completely. Jake's arm grasps tightly around your waist and a tight hand on your outer thigh as his head leans against yours. Deep dark eyes meet yours, half lidded as the feeling of you wrapped around him makes his heart slam in his chest. He remains still inside of you, "I love you." Jake says earnestly, you press your hips down against his, making the both of you moan lowly as you are pressed flush against him. "I love you." You sigh through pleasure. Jake grins as he closes his eyes and begins to thrust into you. 

"Oh God, Jakey." Your voice high and whiny as it echoes along with the sound of your skin against his through the empty room. The moonlight shining through colored glass illuminates Jake's face and you can't help but lose yourself in him. Your hands claw fruitlessly at his clothed back, longing to grip on to him as he pounds into you. You grip onto his hair as you lean back further, Jake moans at the change in position, you cry out as he slams deeper inside of you against that spot Jake knows so well. Jake's crown begins to inch off your head, you take one hand and take the heavy gilded thing off and place it back on Jake's head, "I've always wanted you to fuck me in a crown." You smile widely, spurring Jake on even further. 

Your grip on Jake is iron tight as the feeling inside of you begins to grow, your climax within reach as Jake brings a hand between your thighs, his thumb running tight circles over your clit. A loud cry is pulled from your lungs and you can't hold back from the pleasure coursing through your body. "Oh Jake, oh fuck, baby-" "I'm there too, fuck, ah, mmm, cum with me, baby. Give it to me. Show me how much you missed me." He groans as he fucks you relentlessly, his dull nails digging into your waist as he tows the line of his own orgasm. With only a few more precious strokes and skilled fingers, Jake pulls you into your orgasm. Your body shakes against his as your pussy tightens around him, it's the best orgasm either of you have had on your own alone in the past few months with nothing but memories, fleeting images and your own desperate hands. You both grasp tightly to each other as you are both consumed by lust, pleasure lighting your beings on fire as you both cum. Ragged whispers and moans shared between you both, hands pawing and breaths uneven as the two of you fall into the others awaiting embrace. 

Jake holds you close as you both search for the ability to move or even speak let alone maintain a normal pattern of breath. Without saying a word, Jake pulls out of you, you groan at the loss of him inside of you, he smiles lazily at your pitiful sound of subtle irritation. He silently fastens up his pants before picking you up and setting you back on his lap on the throne, right back where you both began. You zone out staring into the empty throne room as Jake gently adjusts your dress to cover your chest. He kisses your shoulder softly before getting comfortable in his seat, his arms wrapping around your middle. 

"You know everyone probably heard all of that right?" Jake teases. 

"We better be careful, they might tell the King."

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[v-hope]

Sweet Night

Pairing: Artist!Taehyung x Heiress!Reader, Heir!OC x Reader

Genre: Fluff (yes, only fluff today, enjoy), Ex Roommates AU, Enemies to Lovers AU, Arranged Marriage (Heir!OC x Reader)

Word Count: 4.8k

Summary: Neither you nor Taehyung were expecting you to show up to his art exhibition, let alone when everyone was already gone, for the two of you were well aware that you didn’t have much of a choice when it came to attending your possible future husband’s charity event instead. Then again, neither of you were counting on your brother and sister in law to take your side and drive you all the way over to him so you could surprise him before the day was over.

A/N: Helloo! This is part 24 of my Social Media AU “Belong”, but you can read it as a stand-alone one shot if you want! I would like to make a shout out to my 🇫🇮 anon for giving me the Jimin idea (you know which one, I changed it a bit to make it fit the story better, but still). I hope you guys enjoy!

Looking away from the backseat’s window, your eyes focused on your trembling hands instead — the city lights as you passed them by being the only source of light as your brother drove through the streets of Seoul, which for some reason seemed to be extremely long that particular night.

The light music Miyoung had taken upon playing on the radio from the passenger seat, in an attempt to create a somewhat calm atmosphere for you and the nervousness she was sure you were feeling, had yet to make you actually calm down. If anything, you could feel your shaky hands become sweatier by the second as you felt a tingle of anticipation in your chest.

Although you wanted with everything in you to attend Taehyung’s art exhibition, you had got out of bed that morning being mentally prepared to spend the entire day at the Lee’s charity event.

You had been ready to spend most of the day with your parents pretending that everything in your relationship was alright, perfect even. You had been smiling for the cameras all day, greeting people you were sure were just pretending to have the perfect life as well, and being forced to make small talk with the ones who used to be your friends yet had turned their back on you as soon as they had found out you were choosing a more modest life over the luxurious one — the same so called friends of yours that had to keep quiet about your little secret if they didn’t want your parents to destroy their family’s business. After all, your family was with no doubt the most powerful one in Korea. And honestly? You couldn’t help but see it now as a curse, after having spent a lifetime believing it was a gift.

Not only that, but you had also spent most of the day next to Sungjin, lovingly posing for the cameras and holding hands, making you wish every single second it was Taehyung instead. You were sure that way it would’ve been more bearable. What you hated the most was the fact that you knew said pictures were being posted right away, meaning Taehyung would see them, and you hated the utter thought of having the man you had feelings for see you acting like a happy couple with someone else — even more after you had to cancel on him to attend an event with the one guy he had asked you not to bring with you to his art exhibition to begin with.

And yet, after having to endure all of that, here you were — a little over an hour after Taehyung’s exhibit was done, being driven over there by your brother and sister in law, while Jimin held him back at the gallery, and you not even knowing what you were supposed to say at all once you saw him. You couldn’t help but wonder if maybe this whole impromptu apparition of yours was a good idea at all. It had been a long day for him, you knew that for sure, and although he had told you earlier that day that he would’ve loved to have you there, maybe by this point he just wanted to go home and get some rest.

You didn’t have much more time to think about that, though, for just as you remained deep in your thoughts, Seokjin pulled up right in front of the address you had given him before. Looking up from your fidgeting hands, you were met by two pairs of eyes already focused on you.

“Do you want us to go with you?” Seokjin asked, hand on his keys, ready to pull them out at your command.

“Um…” you hesitated, leaning closer to the window as your eyes travelled around the rather isolated street in search of any paparazzis, finding yourself to be quite relieved when you saw none of them around. “Maybe just until I find Tae”.

They nodded, exchanging one last look before they made their way out of the car right as you did. Feeling the cold breeze of the night as soon as you closed the door behind you, you couldn’t help but hug yourself, sticking close to Jin and Miyoung as if you were a kid heading to school with her parents after being called by the principal.

Right as you were about to reach the entrance, however, Yoongi made his way out of the building, looking the other way before his eyes fell on all three of you.

“Hey,” he greeted, politely bowing his head, which you didn’t wait to reciprocate. “I came to see if you were anywhere near, Jimin is going crazy trying to come up with more excuses for Taehyung not to leave”.

You chuckled at his comment, imagining just how troubled your friend must have been. After all, and to be fair, you had taken a good while to get there. “Well, I’m here now”.

“That I can see” he sarcastically replied, eyes travelling from you to Seokjin, and then focusing on Miyoung. “Are you all coming in?” his eyes went back to you.

“Is it just the three of you inside?” your brother spoke up before you could nod. As far as he had understood, it should have been only Jimin and Taehyung inside.

“Oh, no” Yoongi denied. “Namjoon-ie is with us, too”.

“Namjoon?” Miyoung wondered, puzzled eyes going up to your brother. Given her reaction, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe she knew what the rest of you didn’t when it came to those two.

Seokjin bit the inside of his cheek, giving her a knowing look before his eyes went back to Yoongi. “Actually, I, um… I just remembered Miyoung-ie and I have things to do, so…”

Although your sister in law looked troubled for a split second there, she wasted no time in nodding her head. Looking at Yoongi, she struggled to get the words out of her mouth. “W-We do! So, um…” her eyes focused on you. “We should probably leave. Is it okay?”

“Sure…”

“You’ll be okay?” she pushed it, earning a small laugh from you over his motherly ways.

“She’s in good hands” Yoongi reassured her, receiving a genuine smile from her that only caused his lips to part into one of his own as well.

“Okay” she sweetly replied, giving him a small nod as a sign of gratitude.

Seokjin playfully nudged her, grabbing her hand so the whole marriage thing could at least be a little bit more believable. “Shall we go then?”

“Mhm…” she replied.

“Call me when you’re done here” your brother demanded.

“Oh, I’m sure Taehyung will drive her home” Yoongi’s words got chills running up your spine.

“Okay,” Jin’s eyes travelled from Yoongi to you. “Call me when you’re home then”.

“I will” you obediently complied.

With that said, your brother and sister in law turned around, leaving you alone with Yoongi, who didn’t wait to motion towards the door for you to go inside.

“After you” he politely said.

You smiled, taking in a shaky breath before you took a step in. Suddenly all the nervousness you had felt on your way here came right back to hit you in the face, not knowing at all what to do once you were in front of the guy you had ditched the Lee’s event for — not even knowing how he would react at all, yet hoping he would be happy to have you there.

You didn’t get too much time to mentally prepare, for as soon as you entered the place being followed by Yoongi, you caught a glimpse of the backs of the other three men inside as they faced one of the many paintings that brought some life to the neutral white covering every single wall of the gallery. And it was a matter of you taking a few steps towards them for three pairs of eyes to be set on you. However, yours were only focused on one particular pair of them — those chocolate ones that displayed a mixture of surprise and pure happiness in them.

“You’re here?” Taehyung asked the obvious once you reached their side, causing his friends to chuckle in amusement.

“Seems like it…” you nervously managed to get out.

Silence took over as big smiles were plastered all over your faces — on yours and Taehyung’s, as the two of you were happy as hell to see each other, and on his friends, for they were having a blast watching the two of you awkwardly stand in front of one another with those dumb smiles of yours, not knowing what to do next.

“Come on,” Jimin chimed in, placing his hand behind your back and lightly pushing you towards Tae. “Your girl fooled her parents into coming here, the least she deserves is a hug”.

With a giggle escaping Tae’s mouth, he didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you when your body was about to collide with his. Feeling your heart going wild at the warmness of his touch, you wrapped your arms around his waist as well, resting your face on his chest and taking in his scent right as he lowered his head just enough to bury it in your neck.

“Thank you for coming” he mumbled.

A light chuckle abandoned your mouth, deciding to say nothing and instead just nod your head and wrap your arms tighter around his figure.

“Okay, I think this is our cue to go” Namjoon’s voice broke the comfortable silence you had fallen into.

“Yup” Yoongi agreed, patting Jimin’s back to catch his attention, as he was shamelessly taking pictures of the two of you to remember the moment his friends somewhat got together. “Let’s give the love birds some privacy”.

Nodding his head, Jimin shoved his phone back into his pocket — neither of them bothering to say goodbye not to kill the moment the two of you were sharing, and just quietly leaving the gallery instead.

Once you heard the front doors being closed, Taehyung pulled away, cupping your face in his warm hands and smiling at the sight of you. “I never thought seeing you would make me this happy”.

“Yah, Kim Taehyung” you called him out. “I’m sure you can be sweeter than that”.

He chuckled, rolling his eyes at how spoiled you had become when it came to him and his show of affection. “I’m happy you’re here, princess”.

You smiled, resting your hands over his and drawing small circles with your thumbs on his skin. “I’m happy I’m here”.

His smile turned sweeter somehow, lightly pressing his forehead on yours before a chuckle escaped his mouth and he amusedly shook his head.

“What is it?” you wondered.

“Nothing,” he laughed, pulling away and letting go of your face. “It just makes sense now why the guys were trying so hard to keep me here. Specially Jimin”.

“Was he losing it?” you laughed.

“Totally” he nodded. “He made me go over the whole exhibition again and explain each one of my paintings at least twice to him” his eyes travelled to one particular spot on the wall right next to the painting they had been admiring when you walked in. “When he ran out of pieces to ask me about he pointed at this small crack on the wall and asked me how I had come up with such a deep concept”.

This time, you couldn’t help but tilt your head back as a throaty laugh escaped your mouth — one that had Taehyung giggling, absolutely loving the sound of your laugh.

“He’s an idiot” you stated. “But he kept you here for me, so…”

“That he did” he smiled, biting his bottom lip as his eyes unconsciously travelled down your body — that pink dress of yours sure did look even better in person. “Aren’t you cold?”

Your eyes instinctively went down to your uncovered legs and then to your uncovered arms, remembering how you had hugged yourself outside minutes ago because of the cold air of the night. “It’s alright in here”.

He nodded his head. “My coat is by the entrance, in case you get too cold”.

You smiled sweetly, yet it didn’t wait to turn into what seemed more like a teasing smirk. “So you told me earlier today that you wished you had got to see me in this dress and now you want to cover it up?”

Taehyung rolled his eyes in amusement. “Don’t get me wrong, princess. I already told you I think you look beautiful and am most definitely enjoying the view right now” his bold words brought heat to your face. “I’m just looking after you”.

“How sweet of you” your sarcastic tone didn’t really match your flustered expression. “I’m okay for now. Will let you enjoy the view for a little longer”.

“How considerate of you” he was quick to follow your sarcastic antics, silently enjoying that particular choice of yours.

“I know, no need to say it” you playfully squinted your eyes at him, later taking a look at the whole gallery. “You think you could show me around?”

He nodded, a bright smile already taking over his face. “It will be my pleasure” his dramatism got a playful roll of eyes from you. “Where would you like to start?”

“This one is alright” you pointed out, moving closer to the painting you already had in front. “So,” you began, eyes tauntingly going to the crack next to his painting. “Tell me about how you came up with such a deep concept”.

“Shut up” he amusedly rolled his eyes.

“No, but seriously now” you smiled, this time staring at the piece of art in front of you. “Tell me about this one”.

Taehyung’s art, you had found out quite a while ago, tended to be on the abstract side. Therefore, it was even harder for you —or anyone for that matter— to interpret.

This one piece, just like the tag placed above it on the wall let you know, was called ‘Winter Bear’. You could clearly see the winter, the palette of colours he had used just screamed cold days and melancholy. Nevertheless, the bear mentioned in the title was nowhere to be found in the painting — instead, you managed to tell apart what you thought was a little boy, somewhat hidden in between all the colourful strokes surrounding his figure.

“That’s me” he pointed out when he could no longer deal with the confusion in your face, managing to draw your attention back to him.

“What?” your bottom lip stuck out in a pout. “What is the word ‘bear’ doing in the title then?”

He chuckled. “It’s art, you dork. You can name it anything you want”.

“I think it must mean something, though…”

Taehyung bit his bottom lip. Of course you would know better.

“That’s what my grandparents used to call me” he confessed.

You nodded quietly, understandingly — not really knowing what to say yet not wanting to stay silent. “You must miss them so much…”

“Sometimes,” he nodded. “I mean, not a day goes by in which I don’t miss them, it’s just that… it’s been years so… you kinda grow used to it” his shoulders moved up and down, in a shrug that tried not to make it seem like a big deal. “The whole exhibit was related to winter, so it naturally reminded me of them and how they used to call me, and… I guess I got too personal with this exhibition”.

You gave him a sweet smile of reassurance, reaching for his hand and holding it in yours. “It’s your art. It’s supposed to be personal”.

The boxy smile that he gave you right then was all it took for your heart to skip a beat, later taking in a shaky breath when he intertwined his long fingers with yours and his thumb drew small circles on the back of your hand.

Your eyes went back to the painting in front, trying your best not to let him know what his touch did to you. “I love it” you stated, much to his pleasure. “Love the way it seems to make no sense when you only read the title, yet it makes complete sense after you explain it”.

He smiled wholeheartedly. “I think it just makes no sense” his words had you furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. “Not everyone is lucky enough to know the true meaning behind it”.

You giggled. “Lucky me then”.

“Lucky you” he agreed.

Tugging at his hand, you moved on to the next painting, and then the next one, and so on. Not a second had gone by in which you had let go of each other’s hand as you commented on the different paintings and the meanings behind each of them — the two of you finding yourselves having the time of your lives as you gave him your take on them and he confirmed whether or not it was what he had tried to portray.

That was what each of you liked about art so much, the fact that there was no wrong answer and you could discuss it so freely. Sure, he had something in mind the moment he painted each one of his pieces, but it was always fun to see what the rest of the people would feel when they looked at them.

And, for some reason, it was particularly enjoyable to him when it came to discussing art with you. So he had found out back when he invited you to one of his friend’s exhibits. It was different than talking about it with his friends, and he didn’t know if it was the fact that, unlike them, you actually knew about art, or just the fact that it was you.

Maybe both.

Tightening your hold on his hand when there were only four more artworks left, you moved on to the next one, having your jaw drop at the sight of it.

“Hey, this is the one I fixed” you blurted out in both surprise and excitement, unconsciously moving closer to it and dragging Taehyung with you so you could appreciate it better.

Although you were excited to see it there, you couldn’t help but feel your face heat up at the memories it brought back — the fact that you had collided with it and spilled coffee on it, still being both upsetting and embarrassing as hell.

You remembered quite well the way you had ran out in search of an art shop to find the necessary supplies to fix it before Taehyung could get home. Maybe you should have been faster. Not like that would’ve been of too much help, though, for whether you wanted to admit it to yourself or not, you knew very well he would’ve noticed something was off with his newest creation right away.

Looking at the different shades of blue and touches of yellow right then brought you back to that night you pulled an all-nighter, meticulously trying to recreate his painting — the hardest part being that you had only got to see it for a split second before the coffee that used to be on your —by then— broken mug had ruined it. You could only be thankful that it had been just a particular part of the painting and not all of it.

Staring into the picture, you had to stop yourself from reaching your hand out to it and trace your fingers over the pair of eyes you could tell apart in yet another one of his abstract works. You had not truly paid attention to them that one night you spent in Taehyung’s living room fixing his painting, for you had been way too invested in the details you had ruined. And you couldn’t help but feel relieved over the fact that the hot liquid had not touched the eyes he had so perfectly portrayed, for although they looked quite familiar somehow, you weren’t sure you would have been able to do any justice to them.

“I didn’t think you were actually displaying it” you mumbled after a few seconds, eyes still fixed on the painting.

“Why wouldn’t I?” he cocked one of his eyebrows. “Not to be that guy, but it’s quite good”.

“Yes,” you agreed in a heartbeat. “But you can tell one part of it is quite different to the rest of it”.

“You did a good job fixing it, princess” he recognized. “No one could really tell the difference”.

“I can tell” you mumbled.

Taehyung laughed under his breath. “Will you just look up to its title?”

Doing as told out of curiosity, your eyes darted up in a heartbeat — feeling them well up with tears when you read what the label above the artwork said.

“Sweet Night”, ft. Ariel.

Looking up to hold back the tears you felt so dumb for even having in the first place, you shook your head as the corners of your lips curved slightly up. “You did not just credit me after being the one to ruin it to begin with”.

“Hey, I wasn’t taking full credit over something I didn’t completely paint” he stated. “Plus, it’s smart, don’t you think? No one will ever know this Ariel person is no other than the infamous Kim Y/N”.

“You really didn’t have to…”

“I wanted to” he stated.

You bit your bottom lip, no longer being able to hold back your smile and letting it part your lips like it had been threatening to. Taehyung couldn’t help but laugh under his breath over how adorable he thought you were, not even dreaming of stopping himself when he let go of your hand and placed his arm over your shoulders instead, pulling you closer to him as the two of you stared into the artwork in front.

“Why ‘Sweet Night’?” you wondered, leaning your head on his body.

He shrugged. “It’s silly”.

“Come onnn,” you pouted, pulling slightly away so you could look at him. “Out of all the paintings here, you can’t leave out the explanation to this particular one”.

Taehyung sighed, knowing well enough that, one, you were right, and, two, you were not letting this go until he told you.

“It was inspired by that one night I came home to you and Sungjin” he said rather bitterly, remembering pretty well how he had not been fazed at all by the fact that you and said guy had obviously been making out right before, yet feeling his blood boil at the mere thought of it now. “We stayed up late eating lots and lots of sweet popcorn because I had way too many of them and you became addicted to them and how well they went with wine” a small laugh escaped his mouth at the memory. “So I just went with that. Plus, you were being really sweet that night and it was the first time I got to see that side of you, so…”

“That is really sweet” you mumbled, feeling the heat reach your cheeks.

“Don’t” he pleaded.

You laughed. “It truly is sweet, Vante” the way your eyes had softened at the sight of him, had his heart skipping a beat. “What do the eyes mean, though?”

“You just want to torture me by now” he called you out.

“I’m just asking!” you defended yourself with a giggle.

Taehyung rolled his eyes, feeling the heat reach his face as he intently focused on the painting, evading your eyes as he spoke.

“I’ve never been a fan of people having their full attention on me, I don’t like being the center of attention… I mean, I told you today how I was not looking forward to the moment I would have to give a speech in front of all my guests” you nodded, remembering how you had tried to cheer him up when it came to that. “So I don’t really talk about my art… or about art in general, to anyone. I just show it to them and let them interpret it, that’s what art is about, after all. But that one night you asked me a lot about my art and I actually felt like talking about it with you, and I remember the way your eyes were fixed on me almost as if you were scared you would miss some kind of important detail,” he laughed lightly. “And for the first time I liked the attention. I guess that inspired me enough to paint this”.

“So those are my eyes?” you asked.

He shrugged. “It’s up for interpretation”.

You shook your head in amusement, staring down as you felt your face burning. “You’re the worst”.

Taehyung chuckled, pulling you closer to him with the arm that was still around your shoulders, and using his free hand to place two fingers under your chin and make you look up at him. “Am I now?”

You felt your breathing become heavier the second his nose faintly bumped on yours — his lips only centimeters away from your anticipating ones. Too intimidated by him right then, knowing well enough he had you wrapped around his finger, you managed to shake your head no to answer his question, without taking your eyes away from his for even a second. Or well, that until his chocolate ones travelled down to your mouth.

Staring down into his tempting lips as they slowly came closer to yours, you looked up to his eyes for a split second, just enough to catch a glimpse of the way his remained fixed on your mouth. And then, you saw nothing — eyes instinctively closing when his lips softly trapped your bottom one.

Just one touch of his lips made you wonder how you had managed to go on all these weeks without getting a taste of them again.

“I thought you didn’t do this whole ‘friends with benefits’ thing?” you whispered against his lips, opening your eyes to find his dark ones already fixed on you.

A small, breathy laugh escaped his mouth, leaning in so it would faintly brush against yours. “I’m not kissing you as a friend”.

Your lips parted into a smile, not letting another second go by before you pressed your lips to his, making him smile and cup your face in his hands just like he had done weeks ago with the intention of deepening the kiss.

With your arms wrapping around his neck, you pulled him closer to your body, letting go of the kiss for a second to catch your breath and having him take advantage of your slightly open mouth to trap your bottom lip in his eager ones again, this time tracing his tongue over it and slipping it inside your still open mouth — meeting your awaiting one in the middle just the way he wanted.

Letting go of your face, one of his hands travelled down to your lower back so he could feel you even closer, fingers tracing their way down your bare arms as he did so, and feeling goosebumps form on your skin.

“You’re cold?” he asked, taking one second to catch his breath before his wet lips were back on yours.

You shook your head no, a small, shy laugh escaping your mouth. “I didn’t get chills because I’m cold”.

Taehyung bit his lip, feeling the corners of his mouth curving up and pressing one last kiss to your lips before finally pulling away from you as his eyes were intently fixed on yours.

“I will keep my coat to myself then” he teased you.

“Nope,” you were quick to deny. “I am taking you up on the coat offer when we leave”.

“Okay” he laughed lightly, the hand that was still on your face travelling down your arm to intertwine his fingers with yours. “Shall we go?”

You shook your head no quite effusively. “We’re not done with the exhibit yet!”

“I’m hungry, let’s go eat something” Taehyung whined. “We can come back some other day”.

“Yah,” you called him out. “I came all the way here just to see your artworks”.

Your words earned a somewhat bitter pout from him. “Thought you had come all the way over here to see me”.

You couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at that, tugging on his hand to pull him closer, and then making him replace said pout with a smile when you pressed two chaste kisses to his mouth. “It was implicit” your teasing words had him rolling his eyes. “We only have three more to go and then I’m all yours”.

He smirked, pulling you with him to the next piece. “I like the sound of that”.

“I meant it as in, then we can go get some food” you mumbled, feeling your face burning for what felt like the millionth time that night.

“I know” he pecked your lips. “Doesn’t change that I enjoy the sound of that”.

[holy-hyuck]

WayV Reaction: They See You Wearing Their Clothes

Kun

"Are you cold?" Kun asked as he took a seat next to you on the couch. You shrugged, half-wanting to say yes, but not wanting to trouble him. "Xiaojun, can you get (y/n) one of my hoodies?" he asked the younger male when he saw him going up the stairs.

Xiaojun nodded his head and motioned for you to follow him. In their room, he threw the three hoodies Kun owned on his bed and let you pick. One was a poop-coloured, oversized one, another a mix between red and pink, but you finally decided on a thick minty one, the one you gave him on his birthday this year. You pulled it over your head and made your way down the stairs once you realised Xiaojun went to take a shower.

You stopped in front of the TV, hands in the pockets of your boyfriend's attire, and it didn't take long before you felt his arms sneak around you. After giving you a kiss to your temple, he put his chin on your shoulder, breathing in his cologne mixed with your perfume.

"I'm so stupidly in love with you."

The words tumbled out of his lips simply, without much thought, but you both knew how sincere they were.

Ten

"Can I borrow your suit?" Your voice rang through the small apartment you shared with Ten. He made a face, looking away from his phone.

"Okay?" he yelled back, deciding that maybe not asking further questions was in his best interest.

Half an hour passed before he heard your footsteps coming into the living room. Looking up from his phone again, all he could mutter out was a 'wow'.

"I told you I'm going to that Halloween party with my coworkers! So, how do I look?"

With a stupid grin on his face, Ten stood up from the couch and walked around you twice, eventually back-hugging you.

"Stunning." He gave you a kiss on the temple. "As always," he whispered in your ear. "I'm kinda digging this, you know? Who knew Frankenstein could be so hot."

And then, he had to hold your laughing form before you managed to collapse to the ground, stuttering his words back to him, causing him to roll his eyes. Maybe he should have stuck to the 'wow'.

WinWin / Sicheng

WinWin never thought it would get to him as much as it did. Most of the times the two of you spent were with the other boys, the perfect opportunity to offer you his clothes being a movie night but he didn’t want to get teased by them.

The two of you were walking back from shopping, the weather not quite as nice as it was before. The wind picked up and you still had over twenty minutes to walk back to your house, and even more to the dorms.

Shivering involuntarily, you wrapped your arms around yourself to keep the cold away, but needless to say, haven’t succeeded.

With the wind blocking out some sounds, you didn’t hear the commotion next to you. Plus, Taeyong was trying to be subtle about it - that, however, wasn’t a problem with Donghyuck.

“Yah, Sicheng, aren’t you going to give (y/n) your jacket or something? You know, like a sweet boyfriend would,” he said, a hint of teasing present, as per usual.

Blushing, your boyfriend took off his hoodie, revealing a jumper underneath (so you knew he wouldn’t be that cold himself), and passed it over to you, without looking at you. You thanked him, putting it on, instantly feeling warmer. Sicheng wouldn’t look at you (besides the subtle glances) or speak to you until you arrived at your house, you promptly giving him his clothing back, and seeing how he reacted, you made a mental note to yourself to always try bringing a spare jacket with you when you two went out.

Lucas / Yukhei

You heard Yukhei before you saw him, sauntering into your apartment just as you finished up the dinner for your date.

"Look what I got you!" he exclaimed, fishing through all four of the shopping bags before digging up a bright pink jumper, at least two sizes too big for you.

You wanted to tell him that until he got a similar one out, only in your size.

"Matching jumpers! Well, kinda. I got them in the men's section because the material is thicker and I thought; why not? Try it on!"

He was so excited you couldn't make him wait, so you took off your shirt, leaving you only in a tank top, and scrambled to put the jumper on. It fit you perfectly, albeit the sleeves were puffed out slightly, but you reckoned that was just the design. You liked oversized things anyway.

Yukhei beamed, enveloping you in a hug that nearly made you suffocate.

"You're literally perfect. I can't believe how lucky I am."

Xiaojun / Dejun

You visited your boyfriend on the set for their new music video. He just finished getting his hair done when he saw you in the mirror, getting up to give you a hug and greet you. He scooped you up and spun you around.

"No need to rub it in!" You both laughed at Kun's words, who passed by and gave you a kiss on the cheek before leaving to film his solo scene. You watched his dark grey hair disappear, then came up to the clothing rack, fiddling with some clothes.

"So, do you like, get to keep any of these?" you asked, picking up a beret.

"Well, not exactly. But I do get to wear them on other sets and variety shows," he answered, giving you a back hug.

You hummed in response, spinning around and thus breaking yourself out of Dejun's hold. You put the beret on your head and posed for him.

"So, how do I look? Ready to debut in a group?"

Your boyfriend watched you, half with heart-eyes and half-amused.

"How do you look better in that than me?"

You laughed, taking the hat off and gently placing it back to its original place. "One of my many charms, Jun."

Hendery / Kunhang

"We're live in five!" You heard and fastened the button on your shirt. Well, Hendery's shirt, to be exact, but he stole your leftovers last week so you figured it was time for payback.

"(Y/n)!" You turned around and spotted the aforementioned running towards you.

"Hendery? What are you doing here? I'll be live in a few," you said in a hushed whisper.

"I wanted to bring you this." He lifted the small gold pin and grinned at you. It was your lucky charm. He pinned it to your blouse, then took the collar between his fingers with scrunched eyebrows. "Is that... Is that my shirt? I've been looking for it the whole weekend."

You grinned at him sheepishly. "But I look cute, don't I?"

He sighed, his mouth stretching into an involuntary smile. He planted a kiss on your forehead. "I guess you do."

YangYang

Along with some of your mutual friends, YangYang and you went to bonfire night. As the evening turned into night, and most of the people went home, you and your boyfriend decided to stay behind. The night was still, but the temperature has dropped significantly; thankfully, you came prepared.

Pulling a thick cardigan out of your bag, you were ready to be engulfed by its warmth, when YangYang stopped you in your tracks.

"Wait." He began digging in his backpack and pulled out a bright red sweatshirt, the same one he was wearing, and motioned for you to put your arms up. When you did, he pulled the piece of clothing over your head. "There."

Then, he snuggled up to you, leaving you confused as to what just happened.

"I've had that sweatshirt in my bag for two weeks now, waiting for the perfect opportunity. Apparently, you never get cold."

You snickered at his words, dropping the cardigan on the sand and placing your head on his shoulder, enjoying the night air, and the smell of YangYang's cologne on you.

[collecting-stories]

Saving Grace - JJ Maybank

A/N: A You Are Ok drabble set ten years in the future 

You Are Ok Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

The Maybank house had sat empty on the cut for almost five years until JJ’s dad was released from prison. You and JJ had been down in Florida at the time, moved out of his cousin’s trailer and living in an apartment in the everglades. Talking about going home but unsure what the OBX had to offer at that point. It was barely two weeks after that when you both flew home, Luke Maybank had overdosed and the house was empty once again.  

It stayed empty while the two of you gutted the entire place and refurbished it. While JJ and you stayed at the Chateau or Kiara’s place, while you found a job and found out you were pregnant, while JJ got a job for himself in the area and went back down to the everglades to empty out the apartment.  

JJ laid the tile in the bathroom himself and fixed the plumbing. You painted the inside and outside of the house, planted a garden, bought a chicken coop. You and JJ moved in to the house and just like that you were back in the OBX.  

-

You sat outside on the porch, drinking a cup of coffee despite the hour nearing eight o’clock at night. The baby monitor was sitting beside you, a soft gurgling coming from the receiver. You were waiting for the familiar sight of JJ’s truck pulling down the long driveway in the dusk. The headlights were already on, flashing on you for a moment as he parked and then cut off, the engine dying.  

“Hey, what’re you doing out here?” He asked, climbing out of the front seat of the car and bringing a bag of chinese food with him.  

“Waiting for you to bring me egg rolls?” You joke, before turning serious, “I saw my dad this morning, at the grocery store.”

“Did he see you?”  

“Yeah...it was, really weird?” You suggested, reaching for the bag. JJ shook his head and held the bag away from you, a silent ‘I’ve got it’ as he leaned in and gave you a kiss. You wrinkled your nose at the familiar smell of fish as you pulled away, “how was work?”

“Alright...” he shrugged, “what did your dad say?”  

“That he wants me to come to church on Sunday.” You replied, following him inside.  

“You wanna go?” It was a question but the way he asked you knew that he already knew the answer.

“I mean...I’m not gonna like, start going to church with them every week and ya know, go back to how I was but...it might be nice. I do miss my family and, I want to have boundaries but maybe they don’t have to be like, huge ten-year silence boundaries where we never speak. I do want Willow to know her cousins; I think. What do you wanna do?” You asked, passing plates across the counter to him.  

A tinny half cry sounded from the monitor on the table and you both turned to look over at it, waiting for a crescendo of cries that you’d grown used to in the last four months. When silence settled back in, you both seemed to exhale in relief. You wanted to eat and finish this conversation before JJ ultimately showered and fell asleep until Willow’s usual one a.m. wake up.  

“Whatever you want.” He replied, never submitting to making the decision for you when you wanted him to. “Not exactly like your family’s a big of me.”

“Can’t imagine why,” you bumped his hip with your own, kissing his cheek. “Not like you totally corrupted their youngest daughter or anything.”

“Oh no, do not blame that on me.”

“I didn’t run away to marry myself.”

“If you go...” JJ posed, turning to follow you to the table, “do you want to go alone?”

-

You stood frozen in place, holding a box of cereal in your hand as you stared across the small expanse of Heyward’s shop, your dad there by the fresh produce, comparing two different apples with each other. The Outer Banks was a small island but you ran in very different circles and, in the three years that you’d been home, had avoided seeing your parents. Or anyone in your family.  

You’d driven passed the baptist church, a sign boasting a new assistant pastor, one of your brothers, when you’d first moved back but hadn’t actually seen anyone. The possibility of seeing them again had been a long debate between you and JJ when you’d finally decided to leave Florida for North Carolina. It had been hard in the very beginning, missing birthdays and anniversaries and new babies, but over time the ache had dulled and you had shifted your attention away from what you were missing and focused on working through the things you could heal in yourself.  

Now you were frozen. If you left your basket of groceries now you could make a beeline for the door and be out before he saw you. But then the bell above the door rattled as a customer came in and the baby swaddled against your chest started to fuss. Before you could attempt to placate her, your dad was looking over. For a moment you were certain he didn’t recognize you. Ten years was a long time. But then his mouth quirked into a frown and he set down the apples he was holding.  

“Ace?” He questioned, the old nickname feeling foreign to you. It’d probably been ten years since anyone called you that.  

“Hey, dad.” You nodded your head at him across the small store. You felt like tacking on a ‘surprise’ for good measure. ‘Surprise, I’m in the OBX, surprise, I got a kid...’

“When did you uh, when did you come home?” He moved across the store to be near you though he refrained from reaching out for a hug. You wondered if a decade had been just as hard on him as it had on you. Cathartic and healthy and freeing but hard. He seemed more mellow, you thought that before he might’ve pulled out a bible and started admonishing you.  

“JJ and I moved back three years ago,” you admitted, slipping his name into the conversation as if to prove a point. “He got a job on a fishing rig.”  

“Will you...would you come to church? We could have lunch afterward. Or you could just be there?” He offered. Ten years hadn’t changed his beliefs at all but it had made him miss you. Not knowing where you were or what you were doing felt like an ache in his chest that never went away. The anger had subsided to sadness and guilt.  

-

Seeing your dad had been startling enough and you had almost wished, while you were standing there in Heyward’s, that JJ could’ve been with you. Though, you weren’t entirely sure that would’ve helped anything in the long run.

“I think my mom would probably be nicer to me if I brought Wills but maybe, I mean, my dad already saw her. He didn’t ask about her but maybe...” you groaned, burying your face in your hands for a moment as you tried to gather your thoughts. “Why didn’t we stay in Florida?”

“Cause we both spent seven years talking about how much we wanted to come back to the OBX...and my dad-”

“Jay.”

“Look. My dad was an asshole okay, he was a fucking nightmare but you know better than anyone that not getting to see him at the end...that was the worst call I’ve ever gotten in my life. Knowing Ricky was the only one up here and that he was alone. You should do whatever you want to do and I’ll be there, right next to you, just like I’ve been for ten years, but I don’t want you to have any regrets.” JJ replied, honestly.  

You nodded, looking down at the plate of food and pushing your fried rice around. You knew that JJ was still hurting, that gutting a house didn’t take away all the memories that were trapped inside. “God I hate when you’re right.” You sighed.  

“Don’t let your dad hear you talk like that.” He teased just as the monitor went off again, this time for real. You leaned against the back of the chair and groaned as JJ stood up. “I got it.”

“No, it’s okay, I’ll get her.” You stood too. “You need a shower, and sleep.”  

“I haven’t seen her all day,” JJ pointed out, following you down the short hallway to the bedroom that used to be his. It was painted in yellows and oranges now, with a crib and a rocking chair and baby books. A sunset mural painted on the wall from Kiara’s girlfriend and a chandelier of stars from Sarah.  

“What are you gonna do, take her in the shower with you?” You joked, lifting the fussing baby up out of her crib, “hey bubba, what’s the matter?”

“You have to feed her right? So feed her in the bathroom.”

“Oh sure, Jay, that’s super comfortable for me. I would love to feed her while I sit on the toilet.” You grumbled, already knowing that you would probably, definitely end up caving to him and doing exactly that.  

“I’ll put dinner away and do the dishes.” He promised, “and I’ll punch you’ll dad if he says anything to piss you off.”

[sandradoodles]

Since a couple of you said you liked process art (and since I like seeing other people’s processes), here’s a quick look at how mine comes together.

Firstly, I have a script, which for the following page looked like this:

??: Nooo! Why is this happening?!

CN: Oh no, that’s--!

CN: (jumping through the trapdoor, right onto Marinette’s bed) Marinette Dupain-Cheng!

M: (pjs, dark circles under her eyes, messy hair) Gahh!

(THUD)

I changed some things as I went, like CN calling Marinette by her full name (because in the moment I wanted to show the line between Chat Noir and Adrien was blurring.) But the script is my basic outline.

On to the actual art, this is stage one, as previously seen on my blog. I box out the panels and try to figure out roughly where the dialogue will go (I learned the hard way to do this early on.) Characters are drawn super blobby. Sometimes they look a lot worse than this (Marinette was bald for a long time on this page, I decided to spare both you and her the shame of sharing.)

Stage two! Draw and redraw and redraw. Sometimes I figure out that a pose or expression isn’t working and I just have to keep fiddling with it. I have literally spent hours on one panel before if it’s being troublesome fff. This part was especially tricky because there’s... movement... I wanted to convey the sense of urgency but also of course make it clear where he was going. I’m still learning a lot about visual storytelling, definitely a good deal of trial and error going on here.

Stage three, and then you just color it lol IT’S THAT EASY (no, this also takes me hours sometimes.) I have my limited color palette going on so coloring/shading the characters themselves is pretty basic once I’ve done it a couple times (Alya was very tricky to figure out with her darker skin tone, plaid shirt, and ombre hair; it’s a lot to do with only a few shades and lemme tell y’all I did NOT plan ahead.) The backgrounds and stuff are again a lot of trial and error. I tried to use this particular part to transition smoothly from the outdoor nighttime setting to the brighter light of Marinette’s room and I’m pretty proud of how it turned out! 

I actually add in all the dialogue right after stage one but I didn’t include it in these images because it looked distracting. The program I’m using right now is super limited re: text editing (I can’t do anything FANCY like bold or italicize, and I have to both resize and align all the text by hand.) So that’s yet again more trial and error lol. Basically my entire process can be summed up as: do it once; okay, now do it again but like... better. 

[thebookreader12345]

Shouting Match

Pairing: Sean Roman x Halstead! reader

Summary: Y/N and Sean were in what seemed like the perfect relationship, but when a close friend gets hurt, the two realize there were many faults between them and an argument ensues

Requested: Yes, by anonymous

Warnings: slight swearing, mentions of alcohol and gunshot wounds

Word Count: 1,777 Words

"Jay, for the last time, I'm not gonna break up with Sean just because you don't like him," I tell my older brother.

"Why not, Y/N? I'd say that's a pretty good reason," Jay retorted as he followed me out to my car.

We had just spent the past 2 hours hanging out at Molly's so that we could catch up because it had been a while since we'd spent time together. But of course, as soon as the topic of relationships came up, a debate started that I had not wanted to get into.

"Look, Jay. I get that he's got beef with Intelligence, and they're practically your second family, but Sean's a really great guy. And once you get over whatever the hell has you fixated on him being an asshole, you'll see that. Now, I've got an early shift at Med tomorrow, and if I'm late, Will is gonna have my head. I'll talk to you tomorrow," I say before climbing into my car.

The ride to the apartment was pretty short, 5 minutes tops, and I was just happy to be home. I climbed out of my car and entered the complex, taking the stairs to get to the second floor of the building. From there, it was only a matter of seconds before I got to my door and unlocked it.

"Hey," Sean greeted from the couch as I came through the door. It wasn't weird for Sean to be in my apartment when I got home. Occasionally he'd come over so we could spend a bit of time together before our next shifts.

"Hey," I return and set my things down before joining him on the couch. I took a seat on his lap and wrapped my arms around his neck, placing a much needed kiss on his lips.

"How was work?" Sean asked and encircled my waist with his arms.

"You know, giving meds, checking in on patients, the usual," I reply, describing the everyday routine of my job as an ED Nurse at Chicago Med. "And then I got to spend some time with Jay at Molly's. It's always nice hanging out with him since I don't see him as often as Will. But what about you? How was patrol?"

"Fine. The only thing that happened was an attempted robbery, and we caught the guy," Sean responded. "Speaking of work, my partner's taking a day off tomorrow, so I'm gonna be partnered with Kim for the day."

I had no problem with Kim. Quite the opposite, actually. She was my best friend. However, she was also Sean's ex, so sometimes it made things weird between us. She assured me when Sean and I started dating that she was okay with it, and I believed that, but whenever the three of us were together, there was a bit of awkwardness in the room. We always got past it though, and Sean and Kim continued to be friends.

"All right. Keep each other safe, please," I plead and peck his lips before climbing off of his lap. "I've got an early shift tomorrow, so I'm gonna head to bed."

"Goodnight," Sean called after me. I ditched the clothes I was wearing, throwing them in the hamper with one toss. After I put on some pajamas, I climbed into bed and closed my eyes. Minutes later, I was fast asleep.

............................................

"Y/N, that's your second cup of coffee this morning," Maggie pointed out as she joined me at the nurses' station.

"Yeah. And...?" I trailed off, not seeing the problem.

"Late night?" Maggie questioned.

I shook my head. "No, actually. I made Jay promise not to keep me at Molly's past 10, and he stayed true to that. Today I'm just enjoying my caffeine." Just then, Maggie's pager beeped, and when she glanced down at it, she frowned.

"Incoming! Choi, you're up!" Maggie yelled into the ED. Ethan was the doctor I worked with the most, and I had no problem with it. We had grown to be close friends, and we worked quite well together. So, whenever it was his turn to accept an incoming trauma, I always followed to help him out. I thought today would be the same, but that all changed when the gurney was wheeled through the ambulance bay doors.

"Kim Burgess, late 20s, gunshot wound to the neck. Weak pulse. We intubated in the field," Courtney, the paramedic, informed us. My whole world seemed to stop as I watched my best friend get wheeled past me. And seeing her unconscious made things 100% worse.

"Y/N, you coming?" Ethan quizzed as he led the gurney into the nearest trauma room.

"I uh... Mags, c-can you...?" I stammer out, not even needing to finish my sentence for Maggie to understand what I was asking.

"I've got this," Maggie assured me and followed Ethan into the trauma room. Seconds after Kim was wheeled in, Sean entered the ED, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on me.

"Y/N!" Sean shouted and joined me by the nurses' station. "How's Kim doing?"

"I don't know," I confess and glance towards the trauma room she was situated in. "I make it a rule to not work on anyone I'm close with. What the hell happened? You guys were just supposed to be on a routine patrol."

"Intelligence called us up," Sean answered. "We were working a drug case and we ended up having to chase the guy down an alleyway."

"That's not what I'm talking about. You promised you'd keep Kim safe. You promised, Sean. So where were you when she was being shot at?" I implore harshly.

"I was taking cover like I was supposed to! We didn't have an eye so I ducked down behind a dumpster. What, you think this was my fault?" Sean asked.

"You're her partner, Sean. It's your job to protect her. Yet here she is with a bullet buried in her neck," I return.

"You're acting like I told her to make a move," Sean countered. "She put her own life in danger. I had nothing to do with that."

I scoffed. "You had everything to do with it."

"I don't think we should be having this argument here," Sean whispered.

"Well I think we should," I retort.

"Y/N," Sean started.

"Don't 'Y/N' me," I seethe. By now, the whole ED was staring at us, but I didn't care right now. "My best friend is dying because of you!"

"If it was me in there instead of Kim, would you be yelling at her?" Sean posed. "Cause I think you'd be trying to reassure her that none of it was her fault. So, what? Kim takes priority over me, your boyfriend?"

"At the moment, yeah," I reply and cross my arms over my chest.

"Just at the moment? I think she always has," Sean accused. "And if that doesn't speak to how our relationship is, then I don't know what does."

"What are you trying to say?" I ask.

"I'm not trying to say anything. I'm telling you that I'm through with this. I'm through with you," Sean emphasized. "We're done." As Sean stalked off back towards the lobby, everything he said really hit me.

We were done.

"Y/N? You okay?" Adam questioned once he noticed that I had practically froze in the middle of the ED.

"Excuse me," I murmur and push past him politely. My body was begging me for some fresh air to help calm myself down, so I made my way out of the ED, but that involved going through the lobby where Sean and the rest of the 21st district was waiting. I hoped that I wouldn't catch anyone's attention, but I should've known better.

"Y/N," Jay said and stood up when he saw me. However, instead of stopping to talk to him, I made a beeline straight for the exit. The automatic doors opened when I stepped near them, allowing a nice breeze to hit my face. My feet carried me to the front of the hospital where I took a seat against the side of the building and placed my head in my hands. That's when the tears began to flow, but I didn't stop them. Minutes later, I was joined by Jay, who took a seat next to me. For a few seconds, we sat in silence, but then Jay spoke up. "Natalie told me what happened."

"I don't want to talk about it," I mutter without removing my head from my arms.

"Well, as family, we're required to," Jay declared. "I told you Roman was an ass."

I laughed softly and picked my head up, resting it against the wall behind me. "I now see why you thought that. So everyone in the ED heard?"

Jay nodded. "Yeah. But don't worry. I'm sure they're all thinking the same thing as I am. Want me to have a talk with Roman?"

I shook my head. "No, but thank you for offering. I uh, I need to get back inside. We're low on nurses today. I'll talk to you later, Jay."

Jay's POV

A few hours later, Kim was awake and doing well, and I was just glad that she would be making a full recovery. As Adam and I were exiting her room, we just so happened to bump into Sean Roman, the girl who just, not even hours prior, broke my little sister's heart.

"Hey, guys," Sean greeted. "Is she awake?""

I crossed my arms over my chest. "Are you for real?"

Sean frowned. "What?"

"You broke up with my sister, that's what. Get the hell out of here!" I demand.

"But-"

Adam cut Sean off. "Kim doesn't want to talk to you. Not after what happened between you and Y/N. And I'd advise you follow Jay's orders."

Sean hesitated, but sighed. "Fine." He then walked off, leaving Adam and I standing alone in front of Kim's hospital room.

"All right man, I'm gonna head out. I promised Y/N that Will and I would come over after her shift, which is ending in like 20 minutes, so I've gotta pick up some pizza and beers."

"Okay. I'm gonna stay and keep Kim company. Have a good night," Adam spoke.

"Yeah man. You too," I return. And with that, I left the hospital to go spend some much needed quality time with my sister. Y/N would probably be hurting for a few days, but Will and I agreed that we'd be there for her every step of the way because that's what big brothers were for.

______________________________

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[jawllines]

“You’re really gonna go in there?” Y/N queries gently, and Harry only nods his head in response, reaching for the door handle. An urgent, delicate touch of Y/N’s hand startles him, looping around his wrist and dragging his attention toward her, “Shouldn’t we have a game plan if something is behind the door?” She asks, her hold on him tightening just a little, and Harry notes how soft her palm feels against his skin, “Like, let’s say we open the door and a behemoth is standing there, what do we do?”

“The only behemoth that could fit in this tiny room is the band from Poland, Babe, and I reckon they have better things to do on a Thursday night,” he retorts, clenching around the knob and tilting it down, “Now unless you want to hold hands in there. . .”

She lets go before he can finish, and he doesn’t have to look back at her face to know she’s irate. A small smile quirks at his mouth as he pushes his shoulder against the heavy door to aid him opening it, bracing himself to see something potentially horrid. . .

And there’s nothing.

or

Harry and Y/N are witches, they hate each other, and something’s coming

19K+ words

(A/N: Hiii!! So, I’ll be honest I know absolutely nothing about real witches at all, so what is in this story is not fact! it’s just an AU and doesn’t speak toward any of my real witches out there unless i accidentally got some things right. Happy reading, I really liked writing these guys I hope you like them just as much!!)

i.

It was dark. 

Both in the state of the sky and the feeling that slithered through Y/N’s body while she tended to the Brugmansia finally flowering in her garden. The shift in the air could have easily been inculpated by the cool breeze that blew past her face, shepherding clouds thick and heavy with autumn rain, but Y/N knew better than that. Those feelings typically bring her peace; the rattle of thunder soothes her aching bones while fat drops paint the pavement, wet the dirt to mud, and feed the drying grass.

This feeling made her bones rattle. It crawled beneath her skin like billions of tiny beetles unearthed within her vessels; her stomach churned, her shoulders were weighed down, there was a gnawing pain at her temples, so fierce she held her hand to them. The cold brass of her ring cools her heated skin. This feeling was vile, it was awful, for fuck sake what was causing it? 

She stood from her crouched position and slid back into her store. Technically, she’d closed about three hours prior so she should have been home well by now, but when she’d finally gathered her things in her duffle at 12, she looked out the back window and noticed some of her moonflowers had begun to bloom. There was a small part of her that had been reluctant to step outside at all, but she needed to greet them and water them, no matter the odd, unfamiliar troubling sense that had initially confused her. She ignored it -- she thought maybe she was just nervous to say hi to them, sometimes she was. 

(Flowers and plants hold a special connection with their caretaker, from a tiny seed to a flourishing garden, they place their lives in the care of the earth or a human. If not properly nursed, their wilted petals appear so quickly, a silent plea for water, or sun, or even a little attention -- Y/N found that plants liked a little attention. That’s why she spoke to them, she cooed and gave them well-wishes when she left them alone. They felt just a part of her family as any blood relative had, from the moment she had sliced the tip of her finger in a torn brush and the petal she’d touched afterward fused together her tiny wound. Her nan had always told her that maybe she was a bit closer to plants than others were, so she probably shouldn’t share this with kids in her class because they might be jealous of her (Y/N knows now her nan just didn’t want her getting picked on.) 

It was clear to her now that this feeling was a bit more than that when her goose pimples sunk back into her skin after stepping into the warmth of her store. Though it was not just because she had been keeping her shop pleasantly warm as the nights grow colder and longer; she kept herself protected in here. In between these walls lied a sanctitude that kept all evil out, in all manners, of all species, besides two. 

One of which is her bunny, Thumper, who in all ways but emotionally was her familiar. He was a ghostly white Holland lop, with big dopey ears that she slid her fingers beneath and flipped up and down in spare moments. She accuses him of being evil because he’s always nipping at her fingertips, demanding food with a stomp of his foot, and gives the silent threat that he’ll nibble on her plants if she really pisses him off (he stands by them, twitches his little nose and shows his two front teeth until she gives him what he wants -- it’s usually more hay). He’s nothing but a little, greedy nuisance that showed up on her step one day and hadn’t left since.

The other. . .well, the other was Harry Styles. 

Y/N liked most witches, no matter their point of interest. She knew that there could be a certain level of distrust amongst the syndicate -- hexes, and curses placed upon one another, but she tried to stay out of that -- she held no disfavor toward most of the others either. Everyone connected with things very differently, what she may connect with might not be that of what her neighbor connected with and that was okay. Her nan’s emotions had been in accord with the sea, and even though Y/N spent most of her life fearing water, she bore no judgment. 

What she does is done in the mind of good favor, of bettering oneself with the world around them in a way that would beneficial to not only them but the people in their lives. Open up otherwise closed eyes to the beauty of the spirit and soul they possess, and the beauty and soul that the world around them held. The town she had moved to at 20 was so rich in natural beauty, ponderosa pine and hemlock trees grew tall in an extensive, juniper green forest almost always clouded with thick fog, the soil was soft and fertile, the air was crisp and clean. She felt happy here and wanted the others around her to recognize how lucky they were to be in an area so free of sordidity. 

There was an empty shop up the brick road of the older part of town, that had been crowded in cobwebs, leaves that had blown in from the broken window, and animal droppings. Her nan came to help her clean it up (her mum had too, but she was dog tired after her workweek so spent most of the visit asleep on Y/N’s couch), and did something short of absolving the land so that she could grow a garden behind the store, in the clearing of 200 or so meters before it meets the mouth of the forest. She sold herbs, people came to her for intricate, meaningful bouquets with flowers that could not be found in just any store (and she was good to her plants, so if she asked very kindly, and sent them with a packet that produced a very special brew when dumped in the water, they would live very, very, suspiciously long), plants that would liberate people of their aches and pains so long as they tended to them, journals of reused paper, scrubs, oils. . .there were many things. She offered classes too, to help people learn how to better cater to their flowers.

That had been a year ago, so she was still finding her footing, but not six months into this happy reality she had created for herself, Harry Styles had come to town. It took nothing but a few minutes of coming to contact with him that he was a bad apple, and when the once sweet-tempered town had begun mottling with dark splotches, she knew for sure. Harry was like her, but his book of shadows had pages filled with wicked words of revenge, conjuring demons and letting them wreak havoc. His business was more under the cuff -- he posed as a writer who needed a scenery change for his work, but Y/N knew it had to be more than that -- but he did his bidding in the night, seeding through clubs, in alleyways, in the forest. . .if someone knew about Harry, it was because they knew a guy who knows a guy. 

And for some reason, unbeknownst to her, he refused to leave her be. 

This is why it almost makes sense that the bell of her store would jingle brightly no matter the fact she’d locked the doors hours ago, and her attention would be brought to the pest himself. He wore a sweater that threatened to swallow him whole, and baggy, holey jeans he rolled at the cuff showing off his bat printed socks, stuffed into grandpa-Esque loafers. The necklace he always wears around his neck (a small pendant that she had never gotten close enough to make out) is sat atop of his sweater today rather than hidden beneath it as it usually is. His hair is getting longer, more unruly with his warm brown curls than it had been when she first met him -- she really hadn’t known he’d had curly hair until the more recent months when it had started growing out. 

His eyes were always the same soft, crystal green that matched his character none, and a pawky smirk on his mouth as he dragged his fingers along the lavender jars placed on her shelves, “Shouldn’t you be home by now? I figure it’s past your bedtime.” He leans down like he is about to pick something up, and when Y/N peers over the counter, she sees him slide his hand beneath Thumper’s soft white belly and pull him up to his chest. That was another indicator that Harry was just no good -- he was the only human that he liked, and the little creatine didn’t even like her. 

“Shouldn’t you?” She flips it, continuing to gather her things so she could head home for the night.

“You know these are my typical hours, Babe -- everyone wants to curse someone at 1 AM, there was a study done in the east end.” He pets between Thumper’s ears as he sets him down on the counter beside the cash register, before he reaches out for the wooden crafted incense burners, “Have these cheap little things been selling any?” 

“Piss off,” she stuffs her phone into her purse, then flips through her things to make sure her wallet was tucked in there as well, “What do you want, Harry? I’m about to go home, if you wanted to come around to bother me you should have hours ago.”

Harry feigns a gasp like he does any time she curses, “Thought good little witches didn’t have such foul tongues?” He flicks the candle jar on her counter, an apple scent had been melting around the wick for the better half of the day, “I don’t want anything in particular, just passing through. You know you’re right in the way of the forest, don’t you? S’kinda of obnoxious when you’re trying to summon imps at the cave -- they hate the bloody “stench” of the flowers.” 

“Good,” she retorts, “You shouldn’t be summoning around here anyway, this area’s off-limits.”

It was barely an agreement but still an agreement nonetheless -- if Harry left her be, she would leave him be because Y/N wasn’t an idiot. If he wanted a fight, Harry could start one and he would fight dirty. All she asks him is to stay away from her store and her flat, and to keep away from certain areas of the forest where the soil was always soft -- in return, he would do his activities, sometimes he would need her flowers for different spells and she would turn a blind eye to what he was doing. She does a few gentle protection spells here and there but otherwise, he’s a free man to do as he pleases, just so long as he respects her request. He’d seemed perturbed by the conditions none -- had even chuckled and said as long as he let her keep her “pretty little flowers” he could get away with murder. 

A heavy, weary sigh leaves him, “Yes, I’m well aware,” he rolled his eyes before crossing his arms on top of the counter and tucking his face in his elbow,  “Gimme a moment though, it’s warm in here and I was freezing outside.” He muffles into his sweater. 

Y/N had almost forgotten what she had felt prior to coming back inside, but his words bring it clearly to the forefront of her mind once more. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, hearing the floorboards creak beneath her as she wondered if he’d felt it too. It couldn’t have been him -- no, he was powerful but by no means powerful enough to conjure up something like that. And she’d like to ask him, but Harry has never been someone who took her seriously -- he would just make a joke of it, probably, or tease her. It wouldn’t be worth asking. 

But the feeling that she’d gotten is chewing on her memory, so she asks anyway, “Hey,” she began and the only indication that he was listening to her is the fact his fingers stopped tapping against the wood beneath them, “Did you. . .when you were outside, did you feel that?” 

He picks his head up from the crevice of his arm, “You’re gonna have to be a bit more descriptive than ‘that’,” his brows are raised as he continues, “Are you talking about the new pleasant but cold breeze we’ve gained for autumn, or the gut-twisting odious one?” 

Y/N looks at him impassively, “The latter, idiot.” 

“Yeah, I felt it,” he ignores her insult, “What about it?” 

The skin between her brows pinches, “Are you not concerned? It felt. . .bad,” she couldn’t think of a better word to describe it, “I didn’t like it at all.” 

“Are you scared?” There is delight swimming in Harry’s gaze as he stands up straighter, “Don’t tell me Glinda the Good Witch herself is scared of a little frightening feeling? I thought you were tough as nails and all that, hm?” 

“Never mind, forget I even brought it up,” she tried to dismiss it, as she slings her purse over her shoulder and plucks Thumper up to sit him in the cradle of her arms -- she knew better than to ask him like she might get any comfort at all from his words. 

He steps up and in front of her before she could start toward the door, “Oi, listen scaredy-cat, I don’t know if you’re aware but I deal with shite like this all the time, which means I’ve got a few banishments spells up my sleeve. If it’s really something that awful, I’ll cast it back to hell, easy as that.” Harry follows close behind her as she exits the door, feeling the same shiver of fear slither through her body, “I do want to see what it wants first though.” 

“Of course you do,” she utters in disappointment, “Just keep it away from my garden, please.” 

“I’ll try,” he tells her just as she reaches her car before he dips into his pocket and reveals that he’d stolen a baggy of chamomile, “If I didn’t keep your precious garden safe, then I wouldn’t have anywhere to get enchanted chamomile, and it works lovely in a sleepy time tea, I’ll tell you that -- your lavender is shit though. Never puts me to sleep like it ought to.” 

She pops open her car door, “Stop taking stuff from the store, or I’ll start lacing it with laxatives.” 

“While you’re doing that, won’t you plant them Clathrus mushrooms? I reckon the imps would prefer them way more than the mums.” He looks serious -- not a trace of a joke laced in his features and somehow that leaves Y/N more irritated than if he were laughing at her as he spoke. 

Her response is blunt, “No.” 

“Listen --”

“Harry, I’m not going to plant mushrooms for the damn imps!” 

                                                         .                             .                          .

When Y/N had met Harry, she was angry. 

She had never been a very angry person. Seldom has someone or something truly has gotten so deeply beneath her skin that she felt the need to yell or grump about it -- mild irritation was never off the table, but true, unadulterated wrath and resentment? It was rare she ever felt the need to even make a snide comment. And that wasn’t to say she was better than anyone else, she was just mild-tempered and forbearing. . .it took a little more than a remark or two to make her angry.

But when she was angry, she was an amalgamation of vexation and fire, and there was no surer way to disrupt her peaceful demeanor than to compromise her flowers. 

The day had been uneventful up to that point. It’d been a week since Harry had moved into town and Y/N was surely feeling the negativity that followed in his wake, but she was focusing on maintaining the tranquil, idyllic environment that she had around her previous. As much as she would have loved to seek him out, ready to squabble, tell him off for bringing any dark energy into such a calm place -- she had to come at it pragmatically. She and her friend Niall (who wasn’t a witch but knew about her) had both agreed that while it was aggravating, they didn’t know him. They did not understand the depth of his power, or what he was here for, nor had they understood wholly what he was capable of. Y/N had felt his presence, but Niall had confirmed it after hearing the underground chatter of a dark witch who made promises to turn glitter to gold. 

She was on her way to her store. Though she was closed on weekends, she always went by to check on the flowers, water them, tell them about her day, and with her was Thumper who would be hopping around the grassy field and gnawing on the blades. It was very peaceful -- the time she spent with her plants -- so she always looked forward to it, but that day she was filled with trepidation as she parked her car. Something was off. . .not in the air, but with her flowers -- she could feel it deep in her marrow that they were in pain. 

So she huffed it to the back of the store, and there she found Harry, two of her purple vervains nestled against his palm. He noticed her before she could even think to say anything, and something short of relief had flushed through him, “Oh thank fuck, you’re here,” he sighs, referencing her garden with a wave of his hands, “I cannot for the life of me remember what hazel looks like.” 

“What the hell are you doing?” Y/N demanded, stomping toward him, but instead of shoving him to the ground like she wanted to, she dropped to her knees and caressed the remaining vervain, “Why would you pluck them like that? They aren’t ready!” 

“Ready? They’ve flowered haven’t they?” His brows had been tilted while his mouth dipped in a frown, “I need them for an incantation, figured you wouldn’t mind if I borrowed these two. Aren’t we meant to help each other out?”

 “You should have asked, you prick,” she pointed up at him, “And even if you had, I would have said no. I don’t know what you’re doing here, but you’re really disturbing an otherwise pleasant place. I wish you would leave.’ 

Harry feigned hurt, placing a hand to his chest, “You wound me,” he mocks her, “Listen Glinda Good Witch, we all gotta get by somehow, yeah? Not all of us talk to plants or whatever it is you do. So do you want me to pay or --” 

“Those won’t work for whatever it is you’re trying to do,” she cut him off, “If it’s something with cruel intent, it won’t happen -- they were grown to do good.” 

“Which is exactly why I needed them from you,” he wiggles them in her direction, “Well, I need to get going. You’re awful in particular about a garden that is subpar at best. Wish you well, see you later.” 

Then he left. No guilt, no apology -- he just up and left, and Y/N was livid. 

(Later that night when she had explained the situation to Niall, he was nothing short of outraged, so they had tried to find out more about Harry. Anything about him, really, but he leaves a very little paper trail in his endeavors -- from public records they find that he’s 25 and from Holmes Chapel, and from a google search they find he has two books out, published online, and doing decently well. There was nothing else apart from that, he kept his socials pretty dry, and what he did post was nonsensical drivel.)

Y/N thinks about this, as she sinks into her tub, the burning water scalding against her skin. Harry had always driven her mad but he has never seemed half as angry as she was -- hell if anything he always seemed like he enjoyed it. 

He was just absolutely rotten. 

                                                           .                                  .                           .

Harry thinks Y/N is just absolutely rotten. 

There were many reasons that he had classified her as such, but namely what he was concerned about now was how she kept her shop closed on the weekends. 

Who kept their store closed the entire bloody weekend?

It wasn’t so much that he wanted to see her -- Harry actually found the girl quite plaguy. Her opinions on his practice were priggish, not unlike the others like them he had met in the past. There has always been an unfaltering stigma that was carried with what he did, one that was quite hard to shake within the factions of other witches that are sprinkled across the world. He’s seen as careless, cruel, greedy, and selfish -- he doesn’t practice magic for the love of the world around him, to feel a deeper, spiritual connection with the fecund soil that covered the earth, or with the water gently slipping past rocks along a stream bank. They look at him and see someone who shakes hands with the devil and ruins lives for a cookie. 

Harry lets them think as they wish, he has no patience to attempt correcting them. If they’d bothered to learn an inch about him at all before passing their judgment then they would have a clue about his true character, but the jury had already made the decision before Harry even realized he was on trial. They never really wanted to give Harry a chance, so he knew he would be hated no matter where he decided to reside. The pack mentality that they carry is the reason he has to move around so often though (more than any 25 years old was typically doing) he gets run out of a lot of areas because a group of soft witches decides he’s no good. 

That’s what drew him to this place -- there was practically nobody. He could sense when there were more like him loitering around an area, and made an effort to keep a decently low profile so that he could stay around longer (but they always managed to find him), but here, he only sensed one. That had been good enough for him to know this was the right move -- the beautiful scenery surrounding them; the soft bed of dirt that Harry’s feet would sink into easily; the dense, damp fog that covered the forest floor in the early mornings; the lush, green trees and how life seemed to remain there when it was meant to be waning in the colder months -- all of that, had only been a plus. 

When he’d met Y/N, he knew that she disliked him, but Harry had expected as much so it disturbed him none. If anything, he was delighted to have a purer witch than himself around, all things considered. There were no others that she could develop a hive mind with to drive him out of town, but she was no competition to the businesses that he provided, and when a decoction called for an obscure plant or an unsullied petal -- well, a Garden witch was not the worst kind to have nearby. She may be devout in her notions that Harry was a disagreeable, repugnant being, but she was good at what she did. Anything done with her plants was twice as effective as any other person’s flowers he’d used in the past, so it was necessary he bothered her often. 

She refused to sell to him -- something about her doing business with a demon, or whatever she’d said -- but so long as he doesn’t go and cut them from the stem himself, she helps him out. Will give him the plants he needs, and in return, he doesn’t taint certain areas of the town and the forest that she declared were off-limits. It was a spoken commercial agreement that both of them went by and because of it, their lives near to one another were comparatively peaceful to any other situation Harry has found him in prior. 

That didn’t come without its faults. They butt heads often, their bickering is nonstop, and Harry could think of many things he would rather do than have to stay in a room with her for longer than the ten minutes it takes him to get what he needs. It was fun to fluster her -- getting beneath her skin was an easy feat that he found a lot of joy in, and sometimes she gave him a run for his money. He always kind of liked making a normally mild-tempered person grump at him a little, if not for his impish ways, then so he could get to know them as their full self. 

So he wasn’t mad that she was closed because he particularly wanted to see her, no, he was mad because he was exhausted. Absolutely drained. The business was incredible when you’re the only dark witch willing to do some questionable, immoral things, but that also meant long nights and incredible emotional toil -- it wasn’t a walk in the park to conjure up a bloody demon! 

Ever since Harry had started this path, he’d had immense trouble sleeping at appropriate times, if he could fall asleep at all. He guesses this was what he gets in return for what he practices, and it could be worse so he doesn’t mind it too much, but it was still a hassle. It had been a good four years since Harry just had a good, peaceful night of sleep. 

Up until he had moved here, of course, because the same little garden witch that thought he was the devil incarnate, made a tea he could brew that set him right to sleep. Kept him asleep the entire night too, which had always been an impossible endeavor spanning back to when he was a child, but there was something about her chamomile -- hell, it really knocked him out. 

He tested his theory -- part of him thought that maybe chamomile was suddenly working for him, but no matter the brand that he tried, or the amount of tea he drank, none of it could compare to what Y/N’s did. When he visited her store, he took what he could to hold him off to the next time he came by. He hadn’t realized how low he was though when he had seen her last and she threatened to lace it with laxatives -- he should have taken two because he used his last bit the night prior to the one he’s suffering through right now. 

And he could have gotten more this morning if she didn’t close her stupid shop on weekends!

If Harry were not positive that he needed to rest, he wouldn’t bother to be trying. There was nothing worse to him than the laying in his bed and waiting for sleep that refused to come...it felt like he was being stood up by a date. It hasn’t happened often, but enough that Harry could match the feeling low in his stomach, indicative of discontent and sadness while he waited. . . . .and waited. . . .and waited. . . .and waited. 

It was useless -- the universe’s retribution for summoning spirits to the living world left him with what a doctor might diagnose as chronic insomnia, but none of the treatments did him any good. No mortal medicinal could soothe him of this ailment. So one would think he would be smarter about keeping a hearty stock of it at his disposal rather than one at a time, but Harry never claimed to be the best at planning ahead. 

And now here he was, staring at his ceiling fan whirl, his cat at his side while he contemplated if breaking and entering her shop was against his morals (he had a few left, surprisingly). 

God, she was so rotten! 

                                               .                                     .                                 .

“Have you felt weird lately?” 

“Hm?” Niall’s face scrunches up in confusion, his mouth stuffed full of noodles he just slurpped into his mouth, “Wha’ d’ya mean?” He muffles out, reaching over to her side of the table for a napkin to dab at the corners of his mouth.

The record store that Niall worked at wasn’t too far from Y/N’s shop so if her day wasn’t too busy, she would step away from the store for her lunch break and seek him out. It was never a planned ordeal; Y/N would stop off somewhere to get them something to eat and appear at his storefront, the sharp ding of the bell knotted on the door alerted him of her presence. He was always one of two places: in the back, tuning the old guitars the owner would bid on different websites, or he was in the front thumbing through the record baskets, organizing and reorganizing them by name. Sometimes he would be sat behind the counter, with his feet kicked up just beside the register but Y/N scolds him for that (he’s always wearing a dingy, scuffed pair of shoes that have no business seeing the light of day, let alone be shown off to others). 

His head would perk up, he would look toward the door, and his face would bloom into one of sheer delight as he would call over to her, “Oh, thank fuck! Thought I would go crazy if I had to listen to myself think for one more second.” 

Today was no different. She brought him ramen from the place three buildings down from his own, where she bends down a street that feels more like an alleyway and the door is hidden beneath a brassy fire escape. The owners were always very kind to her, and since she came often and tipped well, they would give her free bowls if they were in the mood. Y/N never liked the idea of a one-sided relationship with a business, so she always brought them herbs, and gardenias to plant at home (they were the husband’s favorite). She takes their fliers and posts them up in high traffic areas too, and when they have their business cards made and an extra hundred or so, she slips them in the paper baggies that she gathers her customer’s things in before sending them on their way. 

Niall was grateful. He did a little cheer, left his spot from behind the counter, and urged her to follow him to the back where the break room was located (if a customer came around he would hear the bell and duck his head out to greet them, but for the most part their Tuesdays were pretty uneventful). He told her he had sensed her coming so he already had two stools set out for them to sit on, and napkins placed in the middle of the table, but she’s almost a hundred percent sure they had been left like that last time she was here. 

Try as she might to let her mind flee from the dark, hazed feeling that had overcome her last week, she couldn’t. Even as she listened to Niall prattle about some Gibson Les Paul custom that the owner purchased a while back, she struggled not to wonder what it was that was worming itself into her brain; slick tendrils of dismay overcame her. The true, unadulterated, execrable feeling only truly hits her in the night if she is outside the safety of her home or her shop, but otherwise, it was memories of this haunting aura that struck her throughout the day.

She couldn’t place her finger on it though, what it could be. There are feelings she garners when Harry summons certain spirits, but she can typically tell when he’s doing that, and they’ve never felt so. . .evil, before. What Harry deals with is evil, sure, but this was so smothered in turpitude that she couldn’t make it out. Like spilling black ink over a letter written in blue. 

That’s why she asks Niall -- it feels too strong for it to be something only felt by her and Harry. It would also soothe her mind if someone had felt it as horribly and heavily as she did, considering it wasn’t affecting Harry enough that he would try to banish the damn thing before things went sour. 

“Like, do things just not feel. . .off, to you?” She didn’t want to feed him any impressions of what she might be speaking about -- she would like to know if it were true to him. Niall is sweet as he could be, but not always when it was appropriate; he would tell her he did just to spare her from feeling foolish. It’s why she thought berets were her thing for about a month when really she looked like a washed-up indie artist trying too hard (Niall had agreed they weren’t her best fashion venture, but he certainly didn’t think they were that bad). 

His face contorts in a pout as he mulls it over in his head, stabbing his fork into the noodles and catching a bit of pork on two of the pronks, “Hm, let’s see. . .” he looks like he’s spinning through a Rolodex, “I have not for the life of me mustered enough energy to have a wank in about a week, that’s some cause for concern,” when she responds with a blank stare, he holds his hands up, “Okay, fine -- Butternut was biting at the air when I took him on his walk the other night -- like. . .chomping at it, I was actually gonna ask you what that might be about.”  

Now, don’t get Y/N wrong, any other time Niall would have told her that his great Pyrenees puppy was yapping and chomping at the wind, she would have brushed it off. “Niall, you’re just going to have to accept that he’s going to be a big, sweet dummy when he’s older.” But she was so desperate for something, anything -- because if something felt it other than she and Harry, then she wouldn’t feel quite as crazy. 

“Sometimes it feels a bit like something’s watching me,” he tacks on at the end, taking the brown napkin from the stack in between them and dabs roughly at his mouth, “At night, when I’m walking Butternut, I get these chills but there’s no wind around.” 

Y/N leans forward, thankful, “Yeah?” she presses, “Is it like -- describe it. What does it feel like?” 

“Y’know, I do forget you’re a witch until times like these,” he leans back in his chair, a heavy sigh slides from his lips before he closes his eyes like he’s trying to place himself back at the moment, “I’ll tell ya what, it’s fuckin’ -- it’s a bit like I feel it right down to my bones, but then --” he opens his eyes, raises his closed fists and flicks his fingers out at her, “Poof, s’gone as quick as it came and I forget about it. My nan used to tell me that was the devil patting your shoulder, but if it went away quick s’because an angel kicked his arse out of there.” 

It’s enough, Y/N decides, so she nods and relaxes back in her seat, “Okay, good.” 

“Good?” His brows furrow, as he reaches for his can of soda and the aluminum can crinkles beneath his fingers, “Tell you that I get chills and you’re relieved? Should I be relieved too, or worried?” 

“It isn’t anything to concern over, I don’t think,” she explains to him, “If anything changes I’ll let you know.” 

Niall uses one of his fingernails to dig the dirt from beneath the other, “Did that Harry bloke muster some horrible demon up again?” His voice is laced with vexation. Niall wasn’t a hard guy to get along with -- he was loud and Irish, could chat up a storm about anything and everything, and while he could be scrappy at times, it was for all the right reasons. He was equanimous in most situations, even-tempered to a fair degree; if Y/N were in a situation where a cool, calm collected head would be the best approach then Niall was definitely the person she wanted on her side. 

(Like when they had to drive home from a day trip to the massive lake just north of them, but the roads hadn’t been pretreated for the icy sleet that gripped the pavement. He drove them the whole way on the windy roads with little traction from the tires to the road, and was still bobbing his head and singing along to Ed Sheeran on the radio). 

But Harry Styles? Oh, the mention of his name could dig right beneath Niall’s skin. Y/N would like to think that it was because he was so cruel to her, but she knows that there are two main reasons Niall is not too fond of him nor his craft. One of which is the fact that he slept with Liana (she happened to be one of Niall’s flings at the time -- there were plenty, but Y/N only remembered this one’s name because she shared it with a woody stem rooted to the forest soil that made for easy climbing), and the other, the fact that he had helped the captain of the opposing summer footie team with one of his enchantments to make them win. There are few things Niall cares for so deeply that he would dislike someone, but his sex life and his footie were two things a person just couldn’t mess up for him. 

“No, it wasn’t him this time,” she clears her throat, pushing the rest of her ramen around idly, “It’s a bit too strong to be his doing -- more sinister too. He conjures mostly petty demons; the little ones that don’t have much better to do anyway. This is something. . .I don’t know, it just feels different.” 

Niall sighs heavily, “Well, thanks for that, reckon I won’t be sleeping tonight,” he pushes the container away from himself to signify he’s done and when she takes a peek inside and sees nothing but a few noodles limp along the sides, “I like that you keep me in the loop, but sometimes I wish you would let me live in ignorance.” 

“You know, I would apologize, but you’ve gone into an in-depth description of your arsehole to me so I thought any boundaries and forms of secrecy were long gone by now.” 

His brows furrow features contorting into that of the same desperation he had come to her with two months ago, “Ugh, c’mon! You’re practically like a witch doctor or somethin’, I thought you would have a cream or something for it.” 

“You had a hemorrhoid, Niall, for fuck sake! Even if I were a “witch doctor” then I would never let you put anything that came from my plants on your filthy bum.” 

Niall stands, gathering their trash from the break room table but using his free hand as he passes her, he swats her shoulder, “You better be nice to me, or you’re gonna have to start eating lunch with Styles.” He steps on the level for the waste bin, throwing the trash in the bag, “Though I think you two would just end up hate fucking and the food would go cold.” 

“No,” she rolls her eyes, “I would never let that Gremlin near my naked body.” 

“Listen, I’m not saying I want the guy anywhere near your naked body,” he plops back down in his seat, “What I am saying is that you lot have such unbridled sexual tension it is practically palpable when I’m at the shop with the both of you. Maybe it’s ‘cos the two of you are the only witches, and opposites at that.” 

Y/N snorts, “Maybe if we were in some enemies to lovers film, sure.” 

   After they finish their break, and Y/N realizes that she’s been with him for a little over an hour, they make plans to meet up tomorrow for a movie and she heads out. The air was cool -- when she had made her way over here the sun had been glittering rays down that bathed the world in gold, but it was now hidden beneath an overcast of thick clouds. Rain always carried a familiar scent just before it started to pour and Y/N had forgone a jacket, so she huffed her way back, breathless by the time she made it up the hill and saw Harry leaning against her door. 

The sight of him makes her exhausted, but not in the usual way it does. He looks awful -- and typically he doesn’t! Y/N could admit that Harry was gorgeous; his hair always appeared soft, loose curls dispersed along the brunette strands, his eyes are a sea green, tender in his gaze when he wasn’t being an absolute prick and always bright (even when he was). His lips were pink, shaped perfectly, and his skin is typically smooth but even when he grows out his facial hair it still manages to look good. He had dimples. . .hell, Y/N would place a bet that he’d made a deal with the devil to look like that. 

But today, he just looked worn down, and exhausted, like he might not have slept the entire weekend. His eyes were closed, his hands were in his pockets and his chin was tilted down towards his chest. If not for the way his head perked up immediately when her foot crunched into the gravel pathway leading up to her store from the small parking area (that was more so a beaten down, once grassy area now just dirt with tire tracks in it), she would have thought he was asleep standing up. There’s relief in his eyes when they meet her own, which she isn’t used to seeing from him, “Thank fuck.” 

“You look horrible,” Y/N slides her hand into her pocket, pulling out her keys so she could unlock the door, “Budge over.” 

“I feel it,” he rubs tiredly at his eyes, “Go on and open up quickly then. Why the hell do you keep your store closed on weekends?” 

Y/N fits her hand over the knob, twisting it and shoving the door open with her shoulder. Thumper greets them at the door, nudging the top of his head against her ankle, “Do you work every night?” 

“No --” 

“I keep it closed on weekends for the same reason why you don’t work every night,” she heads toward the counter, settling her things down and reaching in for Thumper’s hay stash so that she could give him some, “What’re you here for? You usually come around to bother me later.” She chances petting at Thumper’s head for a moment, and since he was preoccupied with his hay he would allow it.

“Fuck!” Y/N startles, popping up from behind the counter, looking back up only to see Harry with wide, disgruntled eyes, “Where’s your chamomile?” 

Her brows dip, “I’m out right now, so --” 

“How the hell did you run out? Shit, what am I going to do now, hm? Shouldn’t you keep up with shite like this?” He’s going a mile a minute, he’s walking closer to her, distress was written all over his face and Y/N is alarmed to a fair degree -- Harry’s always seemed very collected and calm, it was seldom she ever seen him have more emotion than pure elation to fuck with her or displeased with her presence. 

“ -- so I’m going to make more today. What’s going on with you? Why are you so pissy over it?” She finishes her previous thought, watching as he leans against the counter, propping his face up with his hand and she could now more clearly make out the bags beneath his eyes.

He rubs at his temple with the finger closest to it, “The only way I can sleep is with your bloody tea,” he grumbled, “That’s why I come around all the time -- well, that and to fuck with you, but mostly the tea.” 

“Oh?” She reaches down, plucking Thumper from where he’d been positioned by her feet and setting him on the counter. He thumps his foot at her once but eventually makes his way over to Harry, sniffing at his chin before resting right before him. Y/N wasn’t necessarily doing it to be nice, but the energy he was exuding could really dampen the growth rate of her plants, and Thumper had a soothing way about him that drew all that negativity out. It was one of those odd little familiar powers that went unexplained for the most part. “Why aren’t you sleeping?” 

“Dunno,” he shrugged his shoulders, but the tension in them begins to dissipate as Thumper snuggles beneath his chin, “Reckon I pissed off some demon or summat -- usually it isn’t this bad. Without your tea, I can at least get to bed for three hours before waking up and catch cat naps during the day, but nothing was working this weekend. I think I’ve slept a total of two hours?” 

“Christ,” she tuts her tongue, but her brain starts churning, “Do you think it has anything to do with that. . .with that thing, that’s around? That feeling?” 

Harry huffs a sigh, “Fuck, here you go again -- Babe, listen, I can barely keep a coherent thought, so why don’t I just give you some money and you make that tea for me, alright?” 

“That’s no way to ask,” Y/N chastises him, and though she is already beginning to gather the supplies she needs so she could go out and harvest her leaves, she taunts him, “You’ll have to say please, or I might just decide to wait on this batch.” 

“Please,” he wastes no time in saying, “Pretty please harvest the chamomile so that I can sleep and I promise I’ll sit and theorize with you over whatever the fuck thing you’re feeling.” 

Y/N could go through the trouble of doing a blood binding with him to ensure that he wasn’t lying to her, but she felt that was a little on the extreme side so she took his word for it. She could easily harvest her chamomile here at the shop -- she had two doors behind the counter, one that led to her garden, the field, and the forest outside while the other led to a backroom that was made into a little kitchen area. It was easier for her to do things here rather than at home and have to risk tainting them in transport; for the best results to any enchanted item, one has to seal it immediately and it should only be reopened prior to use. 

She wouldn’t allow Harry to hover over her while she worked, so she sat him behind the counter and told him to not speak to any customers if they come through (“Wasn’t planning to,”) while she went to work. Y/N gave Thumper a look when he had started to follow her, and with a small thump of his foot (his way of saying Fine!) he hops himself into Harry’s lap and settles there. The tension once again eases from Harry’s features, soothing the pinch in his brow and the way his lips had been pursed in a frown. 

It was silent as she set to work, and save for a few customers who filtered in and out (at least a dozen of them, only eight purchased something but her Mondays were always pretty slow so that was expected), there wasn’t much to disturb what appeared to be a dozing Harry. He looked much more peaceful than she’s ever seen him, and for a brief moment she contemplates sending Thumper back home with him, but she shakes her head physically as if to expel the thought from her brain. What was she going on about? She would give him his tea and send the heathen on his way. No matter how empathetic she felt for him (she had struggled with issues sleeping when she was a lot younger), there was no need to go out of her way. . .even if she could admit that the sight of him cuddling with a bunny was a little too sweet not to be documented somewhere. 

She’s finished drying the leaves and carefully stirring them in the fine powder that she still had leftover from her last batch (there were many flowers from her garden ground up and enchanted with an incantation, which sounds like a simple enough task but the entire process took a little over a week -- the magic had to be purified several times, and the potential adverse effects had to be mollified. . . if she didn’t, instead of pleasant dreams of floating in clouds, her customers would be in an unsolicited astral projection) in a little over an hour. Y/N takes care to bag them delicately, adding a little extra in the two bags she would be giving Harry so that he would bother her less over it. 

By the time she’s retreated from the back preparation room, she finds that Harry is awake now, eyeballing her Intimacy and Romance section. When he sees that she’s returned to the front, he holds up the small, cardboard parcel, “I didn’t know you doubled as a Pulse and Cocktails.” 

“That’s a natural aphrodisiac,” she tells him, walking over to her empty chamomile shelf before she begins to fill it,  “You might want to take some so your partners will actually desire you for once.” 

“Oh, Honey,” he shakes his head, a look on his face almost like he pities her, “Don’ know a thing about how people desire me. Barely have to take my cock out for them to be gagging for it -- kind of how you are, but won’t admit it to yourself.” 

Y/N kisses her teeth, “Alright lecher, come and get your chamomile then,” she plucks the two remaining bags from the box she brought them in and holds them out for him, “You should look into some spells to combat that though -- if a demon is purloining your sleep, then it’s probably still hanging around and like deluging your flat with negative energy.” 

“Dunno’ if you know this, but I work with demons often, I’m always surrounded by negative energy,” he plucks the chamomile from her grasp, before reaching in his pocket and producing a small wad of cash that he places in her palm-- Y/N opens her mouth to decline it (she felt that his money was earned in a dishonest way and would not accept it for her flowers, because it felt as if she were disrespecting them. . .she would much rather give it to him for free), but he cuts her off, “Oh, hush and take the money. This is from a care package my Nan sent me, so it wasn’t earned in any rotten way, you spoiled brat.” 

She sighs, clutching the money in her hands, “You still better keep your end of the deal,” Y/N tells him, “I want to talk about this. . .whatever that feeling is, around here lately. And I want you to be serious about it!” 

Harry was already retreating, waving his hand up at her, “Yeah, sure thing, I’ll have my secretary get in contact with you --” 

“Harry --” 

“M’only joking. I’ll come around Friday.” 

                                                                     .                       .                         .

Later that night, with Thumper snuggled in her lap snoozing, Y/N looks into purging a home of sleep stealing spirits. 

She’s only curious. 

                                                             .                         .                        . 

Sleep comes gradually, then all at once, like the shift between summer and fall. 

Wind whistles past window sills singing shallow songs of change, while red apples ripen on their branches in the orchard during harvest season. The air grows colder in the mornings and at night, the day is still steeped in the sun’s benevolent kisses of heat at first until even that begins to wane. An aesthetic of reds, oranges, forest greens and golden hues occupy the minds of many as the leaves start to stain with color. Everyone waits with bated breath for true autumn to come around the corner. 

And when it does, it’s with a cold slap of air against the face when they step outside. The air carries that distinct autumn smell, the world is chilly enough for thicker jackets and long socks, rain comes in sheets during the evenings, and the colorful leaves that had drooped from the trees adhere to the concrete, or in matted piles on the forest floor.  Suddenly, the warm drink in everyone’s hand is a little less for the excitement and impatience for fall to begin, and more so to warm their cold palms from the onslaught of biting wind. 

It isn’t autumn, and then it is -- just like sleep. Harry’s awake one minute, and then he’s passed right out. 

Well, with Y/N’s help, bless her. Sure, she had been rotten before, but she made him a new batch and sent him off with two hearty bags full of tea that would soothe his worries and put his arse to bed. Plus, he had cuddled with her sweet little bunny Thumper for a while and he had a feeling the little bugger was exuding some sort of her soft magic unto him in the form of calming waves. When the rabbit sat in his lap, all the tension eased from his muscles and he sank into an otherwise uncomfortable chair like it was the softest mattress he’d ever been privy to. So by the time he came home, started the kettle, drank a mug full, and hot tailed it to his bed, he was asleep before his head could even quite hit the pillow. 

It was so good. His dreams were pleasant, his sleep was heavy, and deep, and lasted around fifteen hours -- which in the grand scheme of things, made him feel a bit like a sloth, but he knew he needed it. He still couldn’t quite pinpoint what had happened that he just couldn’t sleep even a little bit, but he has no interest in investigating now that he had a full night’s (and partially day’s) rest. Plus, there was no time to do any exploring when he needed to make up for the work he’d missed in his time exhausted -- his powers are nowhere near as strong if he is tired, and it’s incredibly dangerous to be working with little sleep. He could mess up, and a mess-up could mean someone would likely end up possessed and -- albeit how interesting they are -- Harry’s intrigue with exorcisms ended after the seventh one he performed. 

After he woke up, showered off, and ate brekkie, he sat down with his kitten and they cleaned his crystals and a few amulets before he set on preparing some of his finer elixirs, that he always waited until he was down to the last drop to begin making more canisters of considering how extensive the process was. It would be easier if he had someone else to help out, but the only other witch within 160 kilometers of him, he wouldn’t label as the type all too willing to help him break into a blood bank. 

But he did have his kitten Oat. He was his little miracle -- Harry had been so sad when he learned that witches could have familiars, but the animal would come to him and he was supposed to just know. At that point, he’d been practicing for three years and the only feelings he could sense from any animal around him were fear and disdain, so he had thought that maybe he just wasn’t meant to have one. Which felt horrible. . .he loved animals. 

One day, when the chill in the air rosied his cheeks and the cardigan he sported did little to shield him from the cold, he was taking a walk in the forest nearby. He’d left the trail, but not because he was working. . .if he were honest, he thought that the garden that Y/N kept out there was quite magnificent. It flourished even in the winter, a meadow of flowers that’s petals never frost, and the ground never grew hard. There was an air around it that made him feel warm and pleasant, so he visited often without letting her know. Which was what he was doing, walking through the small path that she had created so that she could tend to them (he’d seen her water them once when he’d come unknowing that she was there to cater to them). 

And one moment he was looking at what he believed to be an oat grass, he heard a rustle from the bushes to his left that he looked toward (it was a bird flying away), and when his gaze returned to where it had once been, there a small kitten was laying. She was the kind of small that made his heart ache, with her eyes barely open as she yawned and stretched very wide -- she wasn’t there, and then she was. Harry always liked to say she was born from the soft soil of Y/N’s garden which was why her grey fur felt like clouds and she always smelled sweet as heliotrope. . .and, well, she smelled a lot like Y/N too. He may not be all too fond of the girl, but she did always smell nice. 

She hadn’t grown bigger than one of his boots, the tiny little thing, but not because she was malnourished in any way (Harry always made sure she was well-fed), he just thinks she’s finished growing. He couldn’t tell her breed, but if he had to guess she was some mix between a munchkin and a ragamuffin cat. Harry knows all familiars have their duties and special abilities, but he wasn’t quite sure what hers was -- he just knew that he loved her to bits and pieces, and couldn’t ask for a better little ball of fur to sit on his shoulder while he made coffee in the morning. 

What Harry did know, was that none of the demon’s he had ever conjured had ever bothered her, and she loved to be rubbed behind her ears. 

So Thursday night, when the town grew quiet and the air was still, Harry ventured out with his tote bag slung over his shoulder. It was easy to move about relatively unseen in a place like this, that wasn’t so big there were people constantly looming around the corners of every nook and cranny, but wasn’t so small that everybody knew everyone’s business. It was a pleasant in between, where he could snake through the mouth of the forest, walk a trail and end up on the other side of town without having been seen by more than a few critters. He typically made this journey relatively late, without a worry or stressor in sight -- it only took him about an hour and a half to get everything done. 

Today though -- today, he felt off. It hadn’t been immediately when he’d stepped outside, but after some time in his walk, goosebumps prickled his skin and the hair at the back of his neck stood on end. He couldn’t quite decipher what was making him feel like this when the wind hadn’t rustled the trees in a few minutes, but it put him on guard. He disliked the feeling and had only truly sensed it to this degree that night Y/N had originally questioned him about it. It was an unsavory sensation, and for it to even make him feel uneasy was saying something tremendous. 

He attempts to ignore it, even though it only grew stronger the closer he was to his destination. He weaves through the trees, stepping over the thick roots, crunching over fallen leaves, and appreciating the scent of autumn as he goes. It was a nice night, despite the chill that ran just beneath his skin. . .it was the kind of night that he might go out on his balcony and sip on his tea until he grew weary enough to step inside. Oat liked to sit outside with him, curled peacefully in his lap and resting without a care in the world (she made him feel not so lonely all the time, which he appreciated immensely). 

Harry was thinking about how that was precisely what he was going to do as soon as he returned home after he had emerged from the trees and walked through an expansive field, toward an old road that led him back into town and entered the blood bank (after melting the lock with one of his crystals). Though he sensed something strong when he was walking down the cold, dark hall. . .or someone that is, who --  before he could register their presence -- ran straight into him as they were peeling around the corner and nearly knocked him on his arse (but definitely knocked them on theirs). 

“Fuck sake!” He cried out, steadying himself, looking down at the assailant, “Watch where you’re going, mate, or you’ll -- oh, Y/N?” He pauses, confusion laces through his brain as he recognizes her, “What’re you doing here so late?” 

Y/N was on her bum, scowling at him as she gathered herself before flattening her palms to the cold, white tiled floor and pressing up to a stand, “I could ask you the same question.” 

“It would be a silly one if you did, ‘cos you and I both know what I’m doing for a living,” he watches as she swipes her bum of the dust adhering to her sweatpants -- he had never seen her so dressed down before, in a dark-colored hoodie that just about swallowed her whole. She appeared much less ferocious this way -- not that she appeared very ferocious before, but he is always intrigued to see typically put together people in their sleep clothes. . .he thinks it says a lot about a person. From Y/N’s choice of pajamas, he could tell that she probably kept her flat on the side of too cold because she liked to bundle up. . .she felt safe that way, he would guess, and he would bet 50 quid that there was bunny hair all over it because -- despite his grumpy tendencies -- Thumper loved a good cuddle.

“I felt it again,” she says after a moment, her voice only above a whisper, though there was no security here -- or anyone, for that matter since the place closes at 7 PM, but her eyes still shift around like she’s a high schooler ditching class and the headmaster's down the hall, “. . .that thing, y’know, while I was getting ready for bed, so I followed where it felt grossest and came to check it out to see if it led me anywhere.” 

Harry’s brows furrowed, “Well that was stupid,” he derides her, fixing the tote around his shoulder and shifting weight from one heel to the other, “What were you going to do if you found something, hm? Fight it off with your bunny and rose petals?”

Her scowl returns, “Piss off,” she utters before her gaze flickers to his tote and the reason he’s here becomes clearer to her than it had been before, “You shouldn’t be stealing blood. Isn’t that unethical?” 

“It’s either this or siphoning it from a live vein, Babe, and while I’m aces at plenty of things, I have not been properly trained to set up an IV. I only take the blood that’s about to expire anyway,” He nods down the hallway, toward the refrigeration where they kept all of the baggies, “You might as well continue investigating while we’re here because it’s coming from that way -- plus you can make yourself useful by keeping the door propped open for me.”

In all honesty, Harry expects more fight than he was given considering how often she seems to object to every move he makes, but she merely rolls her eyes and starts ahead of him. The feeling does grow stronger the further they descend into the hallway and he knows Y/N can feel it too, from the way she shuffles just a little closer to him, and he can hear her breathing hitch to a small halt as they stood before the door and it felt like it had all been focused just behind the door. As strong as the taste of frozen orange juice concentrate, it made his face pucker just slightly as he raised his fingers toward the keypad and began punching in the code. 

“You’re really gonna go in there?” Y/N queries gently, and Harry only nods his head in response, reaching for the door handle. An urgent, delicate touch of Y/N’s hand startles him, looping around his wrist and dragging his attention toward her, “Shouldn’t we have a game plan if something is behind the door?” She asks, her hold on him tightening just a little, and Harry notes how soft her palm feels against his skin, “Like, let’s say we open the door and a behemoth is standing there, what do we do?” 

“The only behemoth that could fit in this tiny room is the band from Poland, Babe, and I reckon they have better things to do on a Thursday night,” he retorts, clenching around the knob and tilting it down, “Now unless you want to hold hands in there. . .” 

She lets go before he can finish, and he doesn’t have to look back at her face to know she’s irate. A small smile quirks at his mouth as he pushes his shoulder against the heavy door to aid him opening it, bracing himself to see something potentially horrid. . .

And there’s nothing. 

Actually, as soon as they open the door, the dark, odious feeling that had been encompassing both of them disappears entirely. “Whoa,” Y/N pushes her hand against the door and keeps it open, taking one step inside of the room, “There’s a lot of blood in here.” His gaze flickers back at her, as she looks around, looking more intrigued than disgusted -- there was a lot of blood, 8 by 5-meter room just filled with it, so he could understand some of the awe. The more he returns, the less awe he feels, but he reckons that was to be expected. 

“There are about five other refrigerators in this building too,” he tells her as he lowers to his knees, cracking open his tote, “This one’s computers are easier to get into though, and doesn’t say the date and time the amount was changed so nobody knows anything is missing. Easy peasy.” 

Y/N nods, “Right. Stealing blood -- easy peasy,” she leans against the door, “What is it that you use it for?” 

“It really depends,” he murmurs as he pulls out a rack, counting out the baggies he needed, “Some demons like blood more than ash, so they come when called and are more willing to help you out when given a little gift. There are a few spells that call for it, and elixirs are twice as potent — sometimes I have to drink it, which is...unpleasant,” he hears her shiver, “—but it makes the outcome better. All in a day's work.”

“Oh wow,” Y/N hummed, “That’s...different. I think the weirdest thing I’ve had to drink for a spell was doe milk and I felt guilty the whole time. Like I was taking it from a fawn that needed it.”

Harry huffed out a laugh — Y/N was a soft little thing, comparing drinking blood to milk — sometimes he forgets how sheltered her world of magic is compared to his own.  It was easy to forget with all the spiteful words she could throw his way, but to see her out of her comfort zone. . .it’s refreshing. Not because she is less confident in her surroundings, but because she is more open to his own If someone would have told Harry they would be even remotely civil with one another in a room full of blood, he would have snorted before asking what they were snorting. 

“I oughta call you Bambi then.” 

He was on his last baggy of blood, checking the expiration date, and logging it into the computer when the dreadful feeling returned. Like a fly to rotting meat, it clings back to the room they were in tenfold. From behind him, a sharp clatter and Y/N’s squeal startles him to look back at her, “Harry!” She cried, pointing ahead of her, “The walls! L-look at the walls!”  

Harry follows her finger, watching as a thick, black substance oozes from the wall’s coving. When Y/N had noticed as much, she knocked down a stray IV pole that had been left in here, and it lay at her feet where the same black ooze had begun seeping up from the trim of the floors. In all his time doing what he does, Harry had never seen something so odd, nor had he ever felt something this grotesque overcome his being. It makes him act quickly, and while he doesn’t speak, he does fix his tote over his shoulder and practically jog the short distance to Y/N, knocking her out of the room, grabbing the door by the handle, and swinging it shut. He had hoped to seal it in there, whatever it was, but when they look down at the floor, the goo bleeds beneath the door and they both take a startled step back, “Oh fuck me,” Harry mutters to himself, shaking his head. 

“What the hell is this?” Y/N is panicked -- it’s very clear in her voice, and while Harry was a tad thankful not to be dealing with this alone, he can’t say that a soft which, who planted pretty flowers and made sleepy time tea was necessarily the backing he wanted in the event he had to exorcise a demon. He didn’t even have the proper tools for it. . .he didn’t know what he was exorcising, fuck sake --  “Harry, shouldn’t we --” 

“We need to leave,” he states, pivoting on his heel and hustling down the hall, Y/N was quick to scurry behind him, though she still murmurs some protest. 

“We shouldn’t just --” 

“Listen, unless you have any idea what that is and how to clean it, let alone banish it to hell, I saw we have a better chance through those doors than we do staying in here for even a second more,” he told her, holding out his hands to the crash bar, shoving the heavy door open, only looking back to make sure that Y/N had made it through, seeing that the black ooze had been following them before he promptly slammed the door shut. 

This was one of the back doors, so it spits them out to the graveled employee parking lot that dances along one of the many mouths of the forest that surrounded them. They’re both out of breath, adrenalin zipping through their veins in a tidal wave as their chests heave and they stare at the door. They wait for it to crawl beneath these doors. . .they wait for the building to either be overcome by sludge or combust from whatever sinister being had decided to preoccupy this space. 

But nothing happens. 

The wind picks up, the leaves rustle against the branches, and as if it were a gift from the Earth, the sordid feeling blew right away with it. 

“What the hell was that?” Y/N asks for the second time. 

Harry straightens out from where he’d been crouched, inhaling the cool air, appreciative to be in it. 

“Do you think for a second, with my reaction, that I have any fucking clue?” 

                                                        .                             .                              .

Y/N doesn’t have people at her flat often. 

Actually, apart from Niall and a few maintenance men, nobody had ever really come over. Not for any particular reason, really, and not because she didn’t want them to necessarily -- the opportunity just rarely arose, or more so, she didn’t often allow it to. If she were going to meet someone then she would meet them somewhere else, and they would part ways after they were finished (again, apart from Niall, who would simply follow her home, kick his trainers off, and head toward her couch which he had told her was simply the comfiest he’d ever been on). Her home was her humble abode. . .it was where she came to destress after a long day, and where Thumper sometimes waited for her debating whether or not he wanted to nibble her bathroom rug to shreds.

Not to mention she had plants growing here too, and flowers that she held dear to her, and while people are more reluctant to go touching what isn’t their business at a store, they are much less disinclined to give that same respect to her plants. Once Y/N had a maintenance man over to fix her faucet and she’d walked out from her room to see that he was caressing her snake plant’s leaves. She couldn’t blame him -- the plant had a very encompassing presence about it and had a way of drawing people in if they weren’t careful. . .hypnotized by the way it made them feel. All of Y/N’s soil and seeds are charmed with special incantations and concoctions that took her years to perfect, she would be disappointed if they weren’t causing people to leave all semblance of professionalism to even for a moment feel as if they were in a room with such clear air, their lungs felt renewed and they deemed it necessary to get closer. 

But then she had to apologize to her snake plant for nearly two days after! It had been so upset with her, she could feel it, so she started being even more careful about who she let in.  If she was going to go out of her way to have someone over, then there was a good reason for it. . .or it was Niall. 

And a demonic, gooey substance sweating from the walls of a blood bank, was well enough a good reason to have Harry over. 

It took some coaxing on her part -- he was convinced that they needed to just go back to their respective flats and go to bed, but Y/N was adamant in vetoing the idea. “We’re supposed to talk tomorrow anyway, so we might as well just go ahead and do it tonight -- and you are not leaving me alone after whatever the fuck that was!” 

After a good ten minutes, he finally relented as long as they could stop by his flat so he could get his kitten. Y/N hadn’t known that he had a kitten and thought maybe he would bring out some ragged-looking thing, but she was surprised to see through her windshield window that Harry was approaching her car with a small grey kitten. Her face contorts in the way everyone’s face might when they see something small and cute, “Look at her,” she coos once Harry opens his door, “What’s her name?” 

“This is Oat,” he answered, holding her out for Y/N to pet, “Be careful, she’s vicious.” 

Y/N pet at her head and Oat’s eyes shut as she nuzzled into her palm, “Oh yeah, what a panther.”

 Apart from the nerves that had already materialized from what they had seen in the blood bank, she was a little worried about inviting him into her home. When she visualized her safe space, Harry was not typically who she saw sitting on her couch when she came in from the kitchen, holding mugs of warm tea. Yet there he was, introducing Thumper and Oat to one another (who merely sniffed each other, then immediately cozied against her olive throw blanket on the end of the couch), and Y/N is handing him his steamy mug. 

“I’ve been thinking,” he began, immediately nursing the mug between his palms and lifting it up to his mouth for a small sip -- the steam disperses around his face in plumes, “And it wouldn’t make sense for. . .for whatever that is to just be a demon.” 

“What?” She inquires, taking her seat beside him on the couch, her body twisted so she was facing him entirely. Y/N had adjusted the temperature to something that would be a bit more suited toward having a guest -- when she’s alone, she keeps it ungodly cold so she has an excuse to bundle up in her clothes and blankets. There’s nothing like feeling safe in a cocoon of various fabrics with Buffy the Vampire Slayer on the telly. 

Harry strategically places the mug between his knitted socked feet, steadying it there as he begins to play with the thick, brassy tiger ring on his index finger, “Demons are strong, sure, but if they’re gonna be that strong there’s typically two reasons for it: they have already inhabited that area, or someone is controlling them behind the scenes. I would be more inclined to believe the prior, but I’ve been going to this blood blank for about a year now and unless there were some pentagrams I’ve missed or a gruesome ordeal that never made the papers in the past two weeks -- then there’s no reason for that to have happened at the hands of a spirit. Even a blood demon isn’t strong enough to make what happened in there happen, and they literally feed off the substance in the room.” 

“So you think someone summoned it or something? I thought you were the only one around here that did that?” Y/N probes, trying to look in his eyes but she keeps getting distracted by his rings -- how many did he have? She thinks he nearly has one on each finger, and he’s plucking them off and placing them on different knuckles as he speaks. Y/N wonders if it’s something he does in response to a stressor, like how she picks at her nails. 

“I’m the only witch that summons things around here, but not even I could conjure something that feels that vile.” He explained, fitting the last ring against his knuckle before he pops the bones in his fingers, and Y/N watches as the skin stretches and moves around the muscles in his hands,  “I think someone is trying to manifest something without the proper safeguards in place. . .the lack of protection charms, crystals, and spells can invite much more heinous creatures to the living world. They feed off shite like that -- naivety. . .thinking that any person could decide they’ll have a demon carry out a job for them. It’s easier for them to take advantage of them that way.” Harry exhales, running the pad of his thumb around the rim of the mug— she’s given him the one that has intricate, realistic drawings of beluga whales on it, not for any other reason apart from that one was her favorite and she liked to see it in use, “And with a full moon coming up? Recipe for disaster.”

“Oh shit,” Y/N holds her tea closer to her being, “That’s why the feeling is so profuse and disagreeable in the air then, ‘cos they aren’t containing it right? When I was looking into a little bit of what you do, I read that there are containment spells so the demon or spirit doesn’t have free range to do as it pleases, but the spell is dependent on the demon in question and the severity of its power.” 

Harry looked pleasantly surprised, “Yeah, that’s right -- what’re ya looking up what I’m doing for?” He settles into her couch, “Have you got a crush on me or summat?” 

If Y/N rolled her eyes any further back, she thinks they would have done a 360 in her eye sockets, “I fell down a rabbit hole the other night when I was trying to figure out why you couldn’t sleep,” an impish grin slides onto his mouth, “And not because I’m “in love with you” -- I just thought it would be interesting to know if your insomnia was the reason of a demon because that would mean one of my items combats against that and wins. My. . .most of my magic is based on prevention when it comes to dark things like that, not really to fight what’s already there.” 

“So your flowers don’t like -- I dunno, Little Shop of Horrors it?” He teases, motioning to her Hoya plant that had just begun to bloom for her, “I reckon when I think of plant magic, I think of you snapping your fingers and thorned ivy whipping around to slow assailants.” 

“No, none of that,” she laughs lightly, shaking her head, “They’re much too nice and gentle. . .they only want to help. And I’m rarely in a situation where I would need thorned ivy whipping around.” Y/N locks eyes with Oat for a moment, whose eyes close nice and slow before she reopens them and Y/N thinks she might just melt, “What do we do then? How do we stop it?” 

He slides a ring with teddy bears from his pinky and spins it between his forefinger and thumb, “There’s nothing to do -- if we don’t know who the problem is, then we can’t fix anything.” Harry shrugs his shoulders, and the action makes his already loose cardigan slide down his arms, revealing more of the cream-colored shirt he wore with Smokey the Bear on the front reading Only YOU! can prevent forest fires, “All we can do is wait for the next fucked feeling and hopefully run into the person causing -- oh,” Harry pauses, motioning toward her, “You’ve got a new friend.” 

Y/N’s confused, brows knitted until she feels a paw press against her shoulder and the telltale purr of a happy kitty. When she turns her head, she finds that Oat has snuck her way up to her, and is now attempting to perch on Y/N’s shoulder. She presses closer to the back of the couch so that she had a better footing, and in return Oat bumps at her cheek with the top of her head, “You’re so cute, stop it,” she murmurs, and when she takes a breath through her nose, she smiles, “She smells like my heliotrope flowers too! How are you the familiar of such a grumpy, cruel lug, huh?” 

“Oi,” Harry mutters, “I resent that. I’m not grumpy or cruel, you’re just rotten.” 

A retort plays at Y/N’s mouth but her phone screen lights up from where it’s sat on the coffee table and strays her attention. She’s confused -- the only person who would be messaging her this late was Niall but she’s almost a hundred percent certain that he was supposed to be out at the bar tonight. It is him though. 

Fuck me, have ya looked at the news? Is this that thing we were talkin bout? 

Harry is a nosy bugger, and after reading the message with her he reaches for her remote, “You told him about it?” He turns on her telly, quick to open her TV guide, “So he knows about you?” 

“Yeah, he knows -- turn to 3,” she tells him, and soon enough the local news is playing out, big bold letters on the blue band stretched across the bottom of the screen. 

MAN TO BE CHARGED WITH ATTEMPTED MURDER ON GIRLFRIEND 

He turned the volume up, so they could hear the news reporter who was on site. There was yellow caution tape stripped around a house, police lights, cops walking around in the back, and frightened neighbors who had left the comfort of their homes to investigate what was happening. The woman on screen had long blonde hair that whipped when the wind blew and muffled her microphone feed, her face set stony as she recounted the events as the police had told her, “. . .has no recollection of the event, and is claiming the “walls” were dripping in blood and demanding that he do it. Jacobs is being taken in for further questioning and pending a psychiatric evaluation -- his girlfriend Amanda Wilson is being rushed to hospital that’s all anyone knows right now. Back to you Tom...” 

“Oh, fuck sake,” Harry groaned, shaking his head, “Now this is a problem, problem innit?” 

“Was it not before?” Y/N takes the remote from him, turning the volume down, “Do you -- does that sound like anything you’ve dealt with? That would try hurting someone like that?” 

He presses his knuckles to his eyes, sighing, “Not that I remember -- I’ll have to do some digging. . .this is bollocks, you know how bad this is for business? Nobody wants to mess with dark magic when shit like this is going on.”

“Aish, don’t think so selfishly. People are in danger,” she tsks at him, “And we’ll need to -- what are you doing?” She asks as he removes his feet from where they had been on the couch, reaching down for his loafers like he was about to put them on. 

“S’getting late,” he responded, “I was g’na head home --” 

“No you’re not,” she told him, her face dropping in borderline disgust as he seemed genuinely confused with her, his face twisting, “We experience something like that, then see the news, and you not only want to separate, but you want to walk all the way home, alone, in the dark? No way, that’s too stupid, you’re staying here.” 

Harry’s brows dipped in, irritated, however, he did stop reaching for his loafers,  “But --” 

“Listen, we may not be fond of each other but I’m not letting you put yourself in danger,” she tells him, before adding quickly, “And you are fucking not going to leave me alone after that! Are you mad?” 

“I’m sorry, I thought I’d be doing you a favor without bothering ya with my presence. Never thought Miss. Good Witch of the North would want me breathing her air for too long.” He ripostes and it reinvigorates any distaste for Harry that had been easing throughout the night the more they spoke. He always did that -- always made her feel like she was some stuck up prick who never gave him a chance, but she would have if he hadn’t started out being such an arse to her. Sure, the circumstances they had met under weren’t fantastic. . .she snapped at him for taking her flowers without asking, but he could have just apologized -- could have said sorry, and they could have started over but he was immediately put off by her she presumes, because ever since he’d been nothing but cruel to her. His knocking her out of the room in the blood bank was probably the first kind thing he’d ever done for her, and she isn’t a hundred percent certain that she wasn’t just in his way while he was trying to get out. 

So she glowers at him as she pushes from her couch, “Sod off. I’ll get you some blankets.”

He almost immediately replaces the spot that her body had been with his legs, stretching out as far as he could and his feet flop on the arm of the sofa, “Reckon you should make me some of that tea though, so I can sleep.” He called after her. Thumper hops off and follows after her, while Oat finds her spot at Harry’s side and cuddles into where his cardigan’s extra fabric bundles. Y/N goes to the closet in the hall that leads to her bedroom, pries it open, and reaches to the top shelf where she keeps her extra blankets and pillows. Despite how irritated he makes her, she grabs him one of her heavier quilts, because even with her heat kicked up higher than normal her flat has very poor insulation, and the night’s into early mornings get pretty cold. She’s about to grumble at him that he better thank her for this and the bloody tea, but when she returns to the living room. . .he’s asleep. 

Harry just fell right to sleep. 

She’s confused -- understandably, she thinks, because she remembers how much of a fit he’d thrown about her tea and how she was closed on weekends so he couldn’t have any of it. Had whined how he wasn’t able to sleep without the tea, and she had only given him peppermint tea tonight, so there was no reason that should have put him to bed. 

Yet there he was, fast asleep with his arms crossed over his chest. 

 Tutting her tongue quietly, she unrolls the blanket she had chosen for him and strategically places it over his legs. She is careful to move Oat so that she doesn’t suffocate under the covers as she pulls them over, up to Harry’s chest before replacing her in the spot she had snuggled prior. She pauses for a moment before she leaves them, taking in a completely relaxed Harry -- not that he doesn’t seem relaxed all the time, but he’s just. . .calm. His muscles have melted against her couch cushions, his brow has soothed and his amaranth pink lips are soft and parted. Gentle, easy breaths slip through his mouth. . .Y/N thinks that she likes him like this. Not spiteful, or crass -- this Harry doesn’t seem to hate her. This Harry is warm and comfortable enough to just fall asleep on her couch. 

Thumper thumps his foot against the floor, his not-so-silent request that they go to bed and Y/N snaps out of whatever hypnotic state she’d been in watching him rest. She feels creepy but shakes it off, reaching down to pick up Thumper by his belly and cradling him to her chest as she leaves the living room, keeping her lamp on for him in case he wakes up to have a wee or anything. 

It’s when she goes to the kitchen to grab him a bottle of water to leave at the coffee table for him, that she can feel Thumper judging her. This is only confirmed by the way he is looking up at her when she looks down at him, his small, pink nose twitching, and she can just sense him repeating Harry’s tease of have you got a crush on me or summat? -- it’s not like he hasn’t questioned her before. She reckons if Thumper could actually speak and not just implant little thoughts of his in her head through whatever little bond they have, he would be very free with his accusations about who she might have feelings for. 

Y/N rolls her eyes. 

“No, I don’t,” she disagrees with him quietly, “What do you know about crushes, hm? You’re just a bunny.” 

                                                         .                               .                              .

It had been a while since Harry had worked. 

Though he was always hesitant to call it work, all things considered. Y/N had once described to him that what he did was lurk around seedy clubs and wait to be recognized by a sorry sap that wanted something they didn’t want to put much effort towards, and Harry can’t necessarily say she’s wrong.  He preyed on the lazy; men and women who couldn’t be arsed to obtain a goal without the help of a little magic no matter how negative, and Harry couldn’t really fault them for it. One, because sometimes goals are unattainable with literally anything other than a demon's help, and two because he gets a hefty wad of cash in his pocket for his trouble. How hypocritical could he be to deprecate their usage of dark magic when he is doing the same thing. . .when he relies on that more than anything, even the silly little romance novels he writes so that nobody questions where his money’s coming from. 

It was a Friday night, and since he was no longer tied to the commitment of meeting Y/N to discuss the horrible, no good, terrible thing that was slithering its way through town and apparently spurring bouts of attempted murder -- he was able to visit a club. Though Y/N had made him lock pinkies with her that morning, telling him to keep his eye out for anything suspicious that may or may not have led to the events from the night prior. 

Promise me that you’ll keep informed on what’s going on there, okay? And promise me that you’ll tell me about it. 

The club he’d visited was one of the more popular of the four he frequented, and within the walls, amongst the gyrating bodies in scant clothing and sweat-drenched skin, were many of his regular clients. One of which had been blowing up his phone for the past week telling him how he desperately needed help, and he needed it ASAP. Harry finally replied to his message with a simple time that he would meet him, and that they would discuss the cost once he’s explained what is being asked of him. This guy, in particular, wanted many frivolous things, and typically his requests revolved around wealth, though Harry thought he had more than enough. And while Harry could do a few simple spells that would bring the money gradually and don’t come with the dangers that a demon will, he refuses. Harry has always told each of his clients that a spell and a demon could do the same thing, but demons brought faster results, albeit potentially precarious consequences.

And when it comes to summoning, things can get a bit tricky. If the person who is summoning is the person who will benefit from the demon’s will directly, then it may come with a price, and that price may or may not be hidden between the lines. Especially when it is someone who has no clue about the actual process, offerings that could be made without including their soul for the taking, and spells that could be done that would protect them. After doing this for so long, Harry had developed and harnessed enough power that it was rare a spell every backfired or a demon ever bested him, but if Bradley Evans tried this himself, he’d be good as dead. 

This is why, no matter how this man grates every open end of his nerves with a dull blade, he continues to help him. Again, Harry gets paid an obscene amount of money for what he does, so he sucks it right up -- and it’s not as if this money is just for him. He has people to take care of, his own personal gripes with the smarmy, rich, meat-headed pricks that want him to summon Clauneck for a trip to the Bahamas matter very little in the grand scheme of things. 

He’s leaning against the far back corner, at a table that he’d claimed for the night and a cherry mango cocktail that wets his lips and stains them red. He really isn’t scouting for suspicious behavior like he had promised to, only because his mind had floated elsewhere entirely. Like how, after so long of only ever being able to rest with help of Y/N’s chamomile, he was able to fall asleep without the help of anything. He had asked her about the tea that she and he drank prior to him passing out unprompted on her couch, but she told him it was just a store-bought strawberry tea that was a guilty pleasure. 

It perplexed him greatly. He only remembers her demanding him to stay the night because she didn’t want to be alone (and if he’s honest, neither had he after the night they had), he remembers her standing and him stretching out on her couch, and he remembers asking her for the tea that would help him sleep. 

And then he remembers waking, feeling refreshed, and renewed. Confused, but reinvigorated, he had a wee before poking around in her kitchen for something to satiate his grumbly stomach. Y/N was still asleep -- he’d peeked his head into her cracked open door only to find her dreaming peacefully, relaxed, and content. As creepy as it felt to stare at her as she slept, he did watch for a moment. It was different to see her without the accompanied scowl he usually coaxed upon her face -- the blissful gleam that exudes from her now is the same that he sees when she’s tending to one of her gardens. 

He brewed two chai lattes in her Keurig with Oat on his shoulder like a bird and she woke as he was taking the second mug, setting it on her kitchen counter, “G’morning,” she yawned, Thumper hopping behind her, looking just as sleepy, “Did you sleep through the night? I made you a cuppa and kept it in the microwave in case you woke up.” 

His heart had lurched. . .a genuine clench that Harry had not felt in a while.

“Oh,” he blinked at her owlishly, “I slept just fine, but thank you.” 

“Mm, good,” she was so sleepy still, Harry remembers wondering if she was even fully awake speaking to him, “I  have sliced fruit in the fridge if you want, for brekkie.” 

It was a domesticated scenario that Harry had not been privy to.  

Had it been her flat? Maybe the plants that she had strewn about the room were all enchanted, singing sweet songs of sleep that lulled him to sleep without him knowing. All he could recall was feeling so unbelievably comforted and no matter how cold it was in that damn flat, he felt so warm. . .so warm, and it smelled so good, and Oat was snoozing happily at his side. Plus she had wrapped him in this quilt that was heavy and smelled nice -- he thinks, in that moment, he finally understood why babies liked feeling contained in a swaddle blanket. Regardless of what happened at the blood bank, and what they found out on the news, Harry felt safe in her flat. And he probably wouldn’t have left either, if he didn’t have to work. 

He’s so caught in his reverie, that Bradley’s arrival truly startled him. A clearing of his throat catches his attention, dragging his unfocused gaze from the crowd of dancers to Bradly, dressed in a Lacoste polo that thought was ugly but he would never say it aloud, “Oh,” he straightened up, bringing the rim of his glass to his mouth and taking a small sip of it, “Right then, what can I do for you? Another trip to Barbados?” 

Bradley shakes his head a little frantically, and it's only then that Harry takes in the actual appearance of him, that surpasses the Lacoste and zeros in on the panic that decorates his face, “I need like -- like a demon protector or some kinda spell or -- I don’t fucking know, or something.” 

“Oh --” his brows dip, “What’s wrong? Is something bothering you?” 

He starts to nod, then switches it to a shake of his head, and that morphs into a shrug of his shoulders, “I don’t know man, I just don’t feel -- I don’t feel safe. I wondered if one of those demons from before were like. . .after my soul or summat.” 

“Not possible,” Harry dismisses the idea, setting his glass down on the high round table, “When I work with them we make a spiritual, contractual agreement that they are bound to. If your soul was not on the table, then it will never be on the table -- it must be something else,” he thinks for a moment before a slither of realization stokes the fire in his brain, that sets the coals aflame and heats the cogs to a churn, “What -- explain to me what you’re feeling?” 

“Like something is watching me,” he blinked, crossing his arms on top of the table and leaning most of his weight onto it, the scent of liquor wafts over Harry’s face when Bradly breathes, “It’s heavy and. . .it’s like swimming in ink. It’s horrible and frightening, and I’ve never -- I’ve never been one to rely on vibes, but mate, they were bad. . .they were like -- vile. Vile vibes, man.” 

Harry thinks, while his description is repugnant, he knows exactly what he’s talking about, but there wasn’t much he could do. Harry can make protection spells that are generalized but he doesn’t believe that any of them are strong enough to fend off whatever this thing is. In cases like this one, sometimes dark magic is not good to fight dark magic, it can only make it grow and fester like a nasty, infected wound. He really did not want to try that out on Bradley. . .he may not be fond of the guy, but he didn’t wish anything ill on him. 

“You wouldn’t come to me for a protection spell, for something like that,” Harry begins, “You would need --” You would need Y/N -- is what is about to leave his lips, but it drops away. As much as it’s true -- as much as Harry knows that the reason he felt the safest he’s ever had in Y/N’s presence was whatever protection spells she had put in place and strengthened -- he couldn’t. The thought of sending someone like Bradley to someone like Y/N, makes him feel sick. “Give me one second, yeah? Stay here.” 

Y/N gave him her number that morning, telling him that it was silly for them to be unable to contact one another. Harry saved it into his phone and sent her a picture of Oat so that she would have his, but left it at that -- he had assumed, until this moment, that he would never have a reason to have her number. If he ever wanted anything from her he would just show up at her store. 

But here he was, scrolling through his contact list to find her, pressing her number and holding his phone up to his ear. It only rings twice before she’s answered it, “Hello? Is everything okay Harry, did you get a lead?” 

Harry laughs in disbelief, “What’re you, a detective?” He cleared his throat so he could speak over the music clearly, “I need you for something, and I’ll give you half. And before you get all high and mighty, it isn’t for anything bad -- one of my regulars is experiencing the same fucked thing we have only it’s more vile vibes opposed to blood seeping from the walls. Need a protection spell -- whatever you use for your flat and store.” 

She’s quiet for a moment, long enough that Harry questions if his service dropped, but her voice reappears.

 “Where are you?” 

Fifteen minutes later, Harry is flagging Y/N down to his spot in the club where he stood next to Bradley whose friends kept coming around wondering if Harry was his pull for the night. Her jumper with a printed bunny right in the center made him chuckle to himself -- it was more than clear that she had not planned on coming out tonight, and if not for Harry, he thinks she would have spent three more hours at her store tending to the garden there if not for him. When she sees him, noticeable relief makes her shoulders slump, and as she gets closer, she reaches into her pocket, “Thank god,” she called over the music, “I’ve been in here for three minutes and if I got knocked into one more time I was going to lose it.” 

She produces two things -- one is a tiny vial, with an unidentified green liquid, and the other is a small baggie of her tea. Harry takes both from her hand, “Thank you,” he murmurs, before dipping down closer to her ear, “Go over to that empty table near the bar, I don’t want this guy seeing you clear enough that he could ask you for anything ever again.” 

Though she was confused, she listened to him, slinking her way over to the table while Harry turned to Bradley who had been looking at his phone, before both were placed in front of them, “Thank you,” he tells him, “Thank you, thank you, thank you. How much?” 

“850,” Harry says without batting an eyelash. Typically his business runs closer to the thousands but he cuts the guy a break since he’s scared.

“Each or what?” Bradley asks as he fishes his wallet from his pocket, flipping the leather open and beginning to thumb through his bills. 

“No, just 850,” he takes the bills from him, folding it between his fingers, “I shipped your crystals last week, did they come?” 

Bradley nods, a big grin on his face, “Oh, fuck yeah dude, I almost forgot! I already transferred you the money for them right?” 

Harry thinks it’s a shame that he doesn’t keep track -- he could really scam him if he wanted to, with these black crystals bathed in the water of Asmodeus (they increases stamina and aids them in not being shit in bed; it was a fucking full-day event to get Asmodeus to recognize the clear stream water, in an incubator that he checks every 15 minutes or so to see if the water has been touched red)  “Yeah, you sent double the amount ‘cos your buddy wanted some too, right?” 

“He loved them, mate,  he’s way less narky too now that he’s getting his dick wet.” 

Harry holds back a grimace, “Alright then, stay safe. You know how to contact me if you need anything.” 

Bradley bids his goodbye and Harry seeks out Y/N, who is picking idly at her fingernails and bobbing her head slightly to the music. When he gets close enough to her, he starts on his spiel as he waves the money toward her,

“Listen, Babe, you used your plants to help him, honestly you deserve way more than this -- a fucking Nobel Prize probably,” he holds it out to her, “Here.” 

She shakes her head, but not in the way she would if she were refusing it because she was disgusted by him -- no, instead she closes his hand around it again and presses it closer to his body, “No, no, you keep it, he’s your guy or whatever.” 

Harry tilts his head, brows knitted, “But they’re your plants.” 

“Yeah, but I would just feel guilty taking it from you so --” 

He sighs, counting out 450 of it, taking her hand, opening her fingers, and sliding the bills into her palm, “Even split then. If you’re going to utilize something precious to you to help someone like that fucker, you deserve a little compensation for it. “ 

Y/N must realize that he wasn’t going to let it go, because she finally folds it in her hands, slipping it into her pocket, “What’s with that guy then? Why do you not like him?” 

Harry can see it clearly; the image of his childhood self, his family struggling to make ends meet but going to primary school with the wealthier kids. The ones who laughed at his faded shirts, and holed winter coats -- who would ask him to their birthday parties and talk shit about the gift he’d scraped up coins for doing miscellaneous work around the neighborhood. He thinks about how he knew they would go home to kitchens full of food, and bountiful dinners that they would never appreciate, while Harry never took seconds because no matter how hungry he was, he made sure their bellies were as full as they could be. And Harry remembers how the headmaster did nothing to quell his worries because those kid’s parents could buy out the school if they wanted to. 

He sees it all, and he hears it all, and for a moment -- selfishly -- it makes Harry wish he had never given Bradley the protection spell at all. 

But he only shakes his head, “He’s just a prick,” he answers simply, before nodding his head toward the door, “Reckon we should get out of here, it smells like piss.” 

It’s always a little easier to leave the club than it is to enter it, so they’re out in the cool air soon enough. A small line had formed outside since Harry had been in there last, and as they step out, a group of three is let in through the rope chain that the bouncer is policing. This part of town is always bustling late into the night, so neither feel the cold brush of fear they have been when they’re out in the dark -- or at least the relaxed way Y/N is looking around tells him that she’s pretty content. 

“Do you want to get something to eat?” She asks him, pointing at the 24-hour diner right across the street, that had been strategically placed there because people who are drunk and high who just sweat out half their body weight love greasy food, “I skipped dinner today.” 

“What a coincidence -- so did I.” 

They got a booth in the far back corner, where the white and maroon tilted floor glistened wet from a recent scrub from the mop, and the air smells of lemon pine-sol. This along with the fact that the black leather seats were dusted of the crumbs that usually mottles them, Harry would assume that they had come just in time for their 12 AM clean up, where the first batch of besotted clubbers had left a mess and they were waiting for the second wave to come through. He didn’t miss the eye that the waitress had given them, looking them up and down like she was trying to decipher what state they were both in, but when neither of them wobbles in their stance, or slur through their words asking for a table, she relaxes and asks them where they’d like to sit. 

After they get settled and order their food (Harry convinces her to get one of their malted milkshakes with him -- his favorite was strawberry and after she confessed that she never had their strawberry malt, he was insistent on her trying it), Harry’s curiosity is suddenly piqued as he thinks of something he hadn’t thought of before, “How did you make it over to the club so fast, hm? Do you just have jars of this stuff made laying around?” 

Y/N sticks her clear straw in the icy glass of water she’d been poured, stirring it like there was anything to mix, and the ice cubes clink together soundly, “No, no, I actually don’t make protection spells unless I’m asked directly -- or usually that’s the case, but I was already in the middle of making some for you and me, so I had a little leftover.” 

“For me too?” Harry inquires, genuinely surprised by the concept that she would make him something to keep him safe. She nods though, like it was silly that he thought she wouldn’t have, only this time she reaches into her purse and retrieves two much larger vials with little cork tops, and one bigger bag of the dried leaves, accompanied by a smaller one tied with red ribbon. 

“I was doing some research while I was at work --” 

“You do a lot of research, don’t you?” He cuts her off and she nods. 

“Mhm -- and there’s this like. . .there’s this elder witch who lives an hour or so drive away from us who I think might be immortal, but that’s beside the point. She has this blog that I was scrolling through and she linked her email, so I messaged her and she sent me her number and told me to call her immediately.” She slides one of the vials over to him, along with the tree leaves, “When I did, she told us that we were in a little more danger than everyone else ‘cos like -- whatever this thing is could start trying to feed off of us, especially you. Said that we needed a potent protection spell, and I told her about mine. You feel safe in my store and in my flat right? Like -- like whatever that thing is couldn’t get to us?” He nodded, eyes fixed on hers, “So this is a version of that suitable for our bodies. The tea leaves are for your flat, and then this little bag here --” she points at the one tied closed with the small strip of red ribbon, “-- this is a tea version of it safe for Oat to drink.” 

Not only had she made him some, but she also made Oat some too? As much as he disliked her before, he can’t help how this warms his heart, zipping through his body and makes him feel just as safe as he did when he was wrapped in her quilt snug on her couch. Harry wonders if this is what she’s like all the time with her friends. . .he wonders if this side of her, that researches and makes protection goodies, brews him a cuppa just in case he woke up in the middle of the night and comes out in the depth of night to the seedy clubs she despises just because he called and asked -- if that’s what they get to see. If that’s what he would have seen had their meeting been any different. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs, taking the vial and the bags, looking at them against his palm, “A lot. You didn’t have to do this for me.” 

“I did though,” she takes a drink of the water through her straw, “I may not agree with what you do but we’re the only two witches here and there is power in unity, even if our versions of magic are different. We have to be there for each other -- Thumper agrees, and that’s a lot coming from him because he doesn’t like much of anybody. . .he barely likes me,” she holds her hand up, the index finger of her other going from finger to finger as she lists off the ingredients, “So we’ve got fern, anise, leaves from the ash tree in the forest, fennel -- the nice old woman told me to hold off on the mugwort unless we’re planning on astral projecting or doing anything with divination, but if we felt that it was necessary we could wear a wreath of it around her necks. That’s an old wives tale though, I’m pretty sure.” She wiggles her fingers, “All that and a little bit of moon water, and we have ourselves a little protection spell! I dipped my finger in for a taste test and I’ll be honest, it’s awful and plant-y but I reckon we can toss them back like a shot and chase it with a sweet drink like juice or something.” 

It hits Harry that he gave Y/N very little credit for what she did, but now as he’s looking at something that she’d made specifically with him in mind, that wasn’t just a glorified sleepy time tea, it puts some things in perspective for him. Sure, she’s been a dick to him in the past, but he was a dick too, about her magic. While he isn’t going to start kissing the ground she walks on, he decides then that he’ll be more mindful of her craft. Plus, from the amount of time that they’ve had to spend together in the past two days, she’s tolerable when she isn’t on her high horse about him summoning spirits and ruining the town. She’s even helpful. 

“Thank you,” he repeats, “I really mean it, I appreciate this a lot.” 

Y/N smiles at him and it’s a smile that he’s never been gifted before. A smile that makes him smile back, as she places her elbow on the table and holds out her pinky toward him -- she’s big on pinky swears, he’s finding. 

“We’re looking out for each other, okay? I’ve got your back if you’ve got mine. . .I swear it.” 

Harry locks his pinky with hers without a second thought. 

[thesunshinebunny]

Hello first ask, reaction of the vice leaders to an fem!reader dancing erotically/sexy? i really liked the ask you did with the leaders!

Of course honey! If you want to read the first one with the leaders, I'll leave it here. All characters are +18 and for obvious reasons Ortho is out of this order.

Cater/Jack/Floyd/Epel/Sebek/silver reaction

Smooooooch

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Trey

Positions – Ariana Grande 

Late at night, everyone enjoying the comfort of their bed, sound asleep ... and here you were, in the middle between the lounge and the kitchen of Heartslabyul, with the music at medium volume and moving your hips as if there would not be a tomorrow.

You took advantage that everyone was peacefully asleep and snoring to practice a quiet choreography.

Well...not everyone.

Trey had gotten up for a glass of water when he found you in the middle of the kitchen, wearing only your panties and a T-shirt long enough to cover your upper thighs.

The way you moved your hips, revealing the fine dark red fabric of your panties shining comfortably against your skin, made Trey's mind take off.

“Cookin 'in the kitchen and I'm in the bedroom” That's it, Trey stopped holding back.

Before you could finish, you felt a pair of hands wrap around your waist and lift you off the floor, ending up on the counter.

You let out a gasp as lips fell on yours and your hands drew you toward your attacker's body.

“Trey ... next time give me a warning”

You gave him a light blow on the shoulder, but the man in front of you didn’t react conventionally, he grabbed your hand which was still resting on his shoulder and brought it towards his crotch, making you notice how hard he was.

“Maybe you should give me a warning before dancing that way in a public place and the way you are dressed”

Let's say… you two kept dancing for a few more minutes until Riddle showed up for a glass of milk.

You ended up scaring the little one for life.

Ruggie

Animals – Maroon 5 

Ruggie was tired after a long day of work, not just from his duties but also Leona's. He entered his room with a heavy step and fell on his bed, in which you were already waiting for him cross-legged.

"Long day?"

Ruggie just nod and settle on the bed, hoping to reach your legs, lie on them, and sleep until the next day.

"I have something that might make you feel better"

You crawled out of bed and for some reason the hyena didn't know, you went to his closet and grabbed one of his dorm shirts.

You went to the bathroom, Ruggie assumed to change, and you came out with your cell phone in hand and dressed to be eaten. The shirt barely covered your upper part, revealing the curvature of your breasts, apart from posing on your thighs.

If you weren’t about to playing some music, Ruggie was willing to jump up to you and eat you right there.

It was worth the wait. When you started moving, Ruggie's first thought was how lucky he was to have you. He was enjoying your fun, seeing you happy dancing for him even if it was at the comfort of his room.

When your steps became more lewd, he couldn't help how tight his pants were. He was completely hard and with each step, his limit was about to run out.

When you were done, hips on Ruggie's, he pulled you close to his crotch, your cunt well positioned over it and pulsing for some more friction.

Fuck the sleep, Ruggie spent the whole night pounding you in every possible position until your bodies were nothing more than a bundle of heat and wet fluids. You ended up destroyed.

The Savannaclaw students wondered all night the source of the high-pitched, savage howls.

Jade

Call Out My Name – The Weeknd 

It was closing time at Monstro Lounge. Tables already set, Azul closing the VIP room, Floyd closing the box and Jade cleaning a few glasses and plates from the bar.

For your, you were waiting for this moment. From time to time Azul would let you practice your choreographies on stage in exchange for a much lower monetary payment than those of Pomefiore had given you.

When the trio were distracted, each with their tasks, you ran out of the room where you were changing, put your cell phone on the speakers, and positioned yourself without hesitation on stage.

Hearing the beginning of the music, the three of them turned around to enjoy the show for a while, but they weren't prepared to see you in men's sleep shorts and one of the dorm’s shirts.

"Ara Ara ~ what a view more...appetizing"

Jade placed a chair in front of where you were dancing and gazed at you as if you were the most beautiful pearl in the entire sea.

Floyd had a wicked grin on his face and Azul was red as tomato.

The other eel was about to open his big mouth and approach where his brother was, but Azul grabbed his collar and dragged him out of the Monstro Lounge.

"I want the place clean when you finish"

The comment didn’t go unnoticed by either of you, but you didn’t care.

When you finished dancing, Jade already had his hands on your waist and his lips and teeth on yours.

Floyd was very clever and left posters outside the door and in the hallway warning of the heated scene that was about to take place.

Jamil

River – Bishop 

There was a small dance competition between a few students from Scarabia and Pomefiore, including Heartslabyul, and Jamil took a break from his responsibilities to participate.

In his excitement, he told you about the competition a few hours before it happened and left you to go practice. Bad move

The last few participants had already done their best, but Jamil had taken the best steps; he was about to win. But before the winner was dictated, you showed up, dressed in gym shorts, a sports bra and one of Jamil’s sleeveless hoodie.

Everyone's jaws dropped.

Your eyes never left Jamil's unless the choreography needed a spin. Your figure was powerless in the middle of the pseudo dance floor and while your steps were exceptional, no one could move a muscle. They were mesmerized, their eyes glued to your figure...and Jamil didn't like that.

He didn't like to see how the skin on your legs was exposed. He didn't like to see your butt become the main attraction, much less when you moved it so erotically. He didn't like to see your hair move with your body and outline your face.

You ended up winning the competition unanimously. Everyone applauded your performance, some asked if you could teach them to dance so freely.

Jamil was jealous, smoke was coming out of his ears and at any moment he was going to explode.

You turned your head to where he was and gave him a wink and one of your most malicious smiles. That was the limit.

Jamil grabbed your hand and led you to the closest cleaning closet.

"If you want to put on a show, then we are going to put on one so that everyone can hear it"

No one dared walk past the closet from the first floor next to the alchemy classroom for two hours.

Rook

Horns – Bryce Foz 

You were watching a dance rehearsal in the Pomefiore dance hall. Sitting in a corner without disturbing anyone, cross-legged, you watched Rook from afar and gave him little appraisals and signs of success every time he turned to see you.

When the rehearsal ended, and the students were dating one by one, you were alone with Rook. You gave him a bottle of water and a towel to dry off.

"You worked really hard, you deserve a break" and the blonde took it to heart.

He left the rehearsal room for a moment to change his clothes and then walk you to your dorm. In that little silence and tranquility, you began to walk around the room, looking at your body in the mirror and how it moved when you took a turn.

With that, an idea came to mind.

You grabbed your cell phone and put on a random song. You stood in the middle of the room, always looking into the mirror, and began to move from one side to the other, waiting for the music to hit at the right moment.

And it was at that moment that Rook entered.

Your steps left him stunned. The way you hit the ground, the way your hips moved in the air and your legs rose.

It was one of the most beautiful things he had seen in a long time.

Your figure, now standing, met Rook's. You both looked at each other through the mirror and you couldn't help but smile in embarrassment. You kept dancing even with a few sloppy steps until you stopped to look at him.

"Oh no no, don't stop for me, you dance very well"

You felt Rook's piercing gaze on your body for the remainder of the choreography and it wasn't until you were done that he moved behind you to turn you around and onto his chest.

"Ma amour, you are one of the most beautiful creatures this hunter could find"

His bare hands roamed your waist and hips, lifting your shirt slightly and savoring your burning skin with his fingers.

"Now let me hunt you down properly"

Lilia

Lights Down Low – Bei Maejor 

Classes were over and you were waiting for the light music club to get together to watch them practice. Mostly to see Lilia have fun playing the guitar, then to really listen to the music… uh, yeah, we can put that aside.

The boys hadn’t arrived so you had the club room to yourself and you took the opportunity to leave your backpack and free yourself from your school uniform, leaving with a shirt and shorts.

Seeing the minutes kept passing and no one had deigned to appear, you put music on your cell phone to fill the void. Your playlist reached a song of your favorites and you couldn't help but move to the beat of it.

You made sure the room door was closed, avoiding unwanted glances, and started dancing without any worries.

You should have remembered that some students are magical creatures and can appear in the room without even knocking on the door… just Lilia’s case.

Our fairy remained face down with his happy and mocking face so characteristic and observed your way of relaxing and how you let yourself be carried away.

Lilia wasn't going to deny that he was fascinated by your steps and… by your rear guard *wink wonk*

"The club became much more interesting"

You turned around scared to hear his voice so close to your ear. The bastard had approached without making any noise.

He put his hands on your shoulders and pulled you closer to him. His lips rested on your nose, your eyes, the corner of your lips and your ears.

"Tell me ... would you mind giving me a private show in my room?"

His fang pinked the skin of your ear, sending a chill down your spine.

Before you could answer, you were already in his room, back on his bed and his toothy smile as the only sight.

[aggimaginary]

The Bad Guys (my version) - The Heist (chapter 3)

First Previous Next

Hey guys! Sorry for delaying the publication for hours. I was sick as I felt that I had a fever, so I decided to sleep more today. But now I felt better, I had time to post this. Enjoy the heist!

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"So here's the plan. Like every year, the ceremony will be held at the Museum of Fine Arts..."

The plan was set. They would infiltrate the fancy-pants event at the Museum of Fine Arts, posing as guests who were there to celebrate the life and achievements of that annoying guinea pig, Professor Marmalade. During the festivities, they'd sneak backstage using Web's clever hacking skills. Wolf finished explaining the plan for the gang, "...where the Golden Dolphin will be positioned just beyond the backstage curtain."

"Pssh," Piranha said, waving a fin. "Sounds easy."

"Sounds easy, hermano," Wolf agreed, "But to get there, we need to bypass three levels of security. So. Step One: We'll need to blend in."

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The Bad Guys all got to work finding their costumes for the night. Since most of their lives were spent stealing, getting gussied up for a party was a new kind of fun. By the time the party rolled around, they were all set. Wolf had chosen a snazzy suit, along with a dapper fedora, silk tie, fake mustache, and tinted glasses. He had mastered the part of a fancy movie star, like George Clooney as his muse and guide. That guy always looked good.

Shark, meanwhile, had gone the opposite direction, cramping his body into a gorgeous gown that was stretched to the limit by Shark's massive, muscular form. Perched atop Shark's head, Tarantula had fashioned her long limbs into the shape of a butterfly fascinator hat.

Snake went old-school, complete with a classic suit, handlebar mustache, monocle, top hat, and a pair of fake arms to help fill out the look.

Piranha squeezed into a kid-size coat, a tiny top hat, and tails, looking handsome and a bit childish—but it did the trick.

Hornet was hiding under Piranha's hat, poking his head out to see. He didn't need a disguise as he was too small to be noticed. This was a good advantage to him, but it could be lonely sometimes... not being noticed by others, but he was happy he always got to notice by his friends.

When they arrived at the museum, they joined in with a long line of guests who were already milling about, waiting to enter the event. There was a grand staircase stretching up toward the Fine Arts Museum, and the group of disguised Bad Guys had just begun to climb the steps when a stretch limo pulled up at the bottom of the stairs. Many of the guests turned to watch as Professor Marmalade, the eccentric and good-natured do-gooder who would be honored that night, popped out of the limo and began his own march up the stairs to the party. Paparazzi flooded in around the little guinea pig, eager to snap shots of the evening's featured guest.

"Professor Marmalade..." Wolf muttered, "This year's recipient of the Gold Dolphin and the most annoying good guy on the planet."

Marmalade waved to his crowd of adoring fans, then stepped up to talk with Tiffany Fluffit, the eager news reporter who'd been assigned to the night's festivities. "Professor," Tiffany started. "In the past year, you've stopped wars, fed the hungry, and saved countless pandas. Some have described your goodness as second only to Mother Teresa!"

Professor Marmalade nodded, putting on the look of earnest humility. "Oh, Tiffany, it's not a competition! And if it were, it would really be more of a tie. But we can all agree that there is a flower of goodness inside all of us, just waiting to blossom."

Everyone within earshot broke into applause, overcome with love for the oh-so-good professor. Marmalade waved to the crowd as he continued his climb up the red carpet, heading inside to the awards ceremony where even more fans were waiting for a glimpse of that evening's headliner.

"Once we get inside," Wolf continued "There are two armored doors..." He explained how they would get into the doors that were locked and sealed tightly, with extra protections, to ensure that the beloved Golden Dolphin was safe and secure until it was thrust into Professor Marmalade's grubby little guinea pig paws. "The first door can only be opened by a special key card that is carried at all times by our dear friend, the chief of police," Wolf told the others. "The second is outfitted with a retinal scanner that only words with Governor Foxington's eye, and it's also guarded by an elite special ops until trained to strike first and ask questions later."

The other Bad Guys nodded,

Wolf pointed out, "Since Governor Foxington is the only one who has clearance to open the second door, Step Two is that she and I will need to get up close and personal..."

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"Okay, friends," Wolf said, rejoining the others on the far side of the museum's huge entranceway. He flipped the ring that he secretly stole from Diane, and said while catching it back into his paw, "It's showtime.

He and the other Bad Guys started to make their move, heading inside the museum, with Wolf instructed, "Once we're in, it's on to step three: We split up and we take our positions."

Meanwhile, while the Bad Guys entered the museum, up on the floor above, the chief of police was instructing the fellow police officers on their mission for the evening. She paced the floor back and forth, declaring, "Officers, if the Bad Guys crash this event, I am definitely going to lose my job, and I will not hesitate to take you down with me. Now, move out!"

The officers all saluted Chief Luggins and said, "Yes, ma'am! Hut, hut, hut, hut, hut, hut, hut, hut, hut, hut, hut, hut, hut, hut, hut, hut, hut...," while running to their positions. While the other officers got into position, the chief marched off, setting off on her patrol.

Back on the first floor, the Bad Guys were starting to move into their positions, looking as inconspicuous as possible, without anyone noticing.

Shark offered Tarantula a hand, as she climbed into his hand, and leaped down onto the floor, crawling off in a different direction, while the boys went their own separate ways. Hornet wore his helmet, and flew up as high as he could to take his position above to watch over the others.

Piranha was leaning up against a fountain and waited for the perfect moment before jumping in and quietly swimming underwater with a huge grin on his face, while making sure his little top hat followed him too. He ended up swimming through the pipe system of the fountain, heading towards somewhere for his part of the plan.

Snake looked behind him to make sure no one was following as he was heading towards a swirly, wavy golden pole-like statue.

Shark was heading into the receptionist area to fit in with the other guests.

Tarantula was crawling along the floor, avoiding getting stepped on by accident, while heading towards a wall to climb up onto.

Hornet was flying from one hanging light to another.

Wolf was gazing upon the quiet floors around the art areas, cool, clam, and certain that this heist was gonna go without a hitch.

Tarantula placed her hand on her communicator, and spoke through it, "Mic's on. Everyone on comms, do you copy?"

Each Bad Guy responded in order, letting her know that their comms were working as Wolf stated, "Copy."

"Copy" added Snake.

"Copy," responded Hornet.

"Copy" mentioned Piranha

And Shark replied with a high-pitched voice to match his female disguise, "Copy,"

With that, the Bad Guys were on the move.

Snake looked around to see if anyone was watching before carefully scaling up a high golden, swiggly pole, and entered the top vent.

Meanwhile, once Snake entered inside the vent, Tarantula was riding on the back of a fellow security officer, who was heading into the security room, as he used his keys to unlock the room before entering.

Over by the reception area, Shark had taken a seat by a table with a lot of drinks as a man dressed in a tuxedo approached her, and offered a drink, "A drink for the pretty lady?"

Shark, staying in tune with his disguised character, spoke in a high-pitched voice, "No, thank you. My life is too complicated right now," he took the two drinks out of his hands, much to the man's confusion.

When Hornet flew to the last chandelier he could find closer to him, he activated the HUD effect of his helmet, showing the video footage of the areas down below.

Up in the vents, Snake slithered slowly and carefully along the metal before stopping and going through the next part: shedding through his disguise... literally. He broke through his old skin and slithered out of it, and his disguise, emerging out while wearing a black bodysuit that covered his whole body, with his face as the only thing not covered, before moving forward.

Over in the men's restroom, a caterer wearing a catering uniform was whistling a happy tune while heading into a stall to use the toilet. However, he didn't see Piranha slowly peeking his head out from the toilet with a huge grin on his face as the man closed the bathroom stall door behind him, sealing his fate.

Back in the security room, Tarantula plugged in a red hard drive into the hard drive system and opened her lap-top, typing a code to log into the security cameras, while allowing the occurrence of multiple screens popping out from her computer so she could have a clear view of everything that was going on. On one of the screens, she saw the camera pointing at the Golden Dolphin, making Tarantula comment through the comm, "Boys, it's Dolphin season." Behind her, the poor, helpless security officer was hanging upside down, and gagged by duct tape.

Back in the bathroom, Piranha came out of the stall, wearing the innocent/knocked-out caterer's uniform, with tiny glasses on his face, and his Mohawk slicked down to look fancy. He tightened his bow tie and replied, "Copy that. I'm on the move."

Back at the party, the chief of police continued her patrol, talking into her walkie-talkie, "Unit two, is the backstage area still secure?"

The radio scratched and answered back with the fellow officer's voice, "Unit two. All clear."

The chief of police smiled, "This is where all the training pays off."

However, she wasn't looking where she was going and accidentally bumped into a mysterious stranger, which was actually Wolf, but she didn't seem to recognize him.

Wolf merely tipped his hat, making sure the chief didn't get a good look at his face as he turned to "leave", "Oh, pardon me. Terribly sorry."

Luckily, the chief didn't seem to recognize Wolf, and humbly answered to him, "Not a problem, sir," Then she spoke into her walkie-talkie again, "Keep your eyes open, boys. They could be anywhere, just waiting to humiliate us."

Little did she know that the "bump" was all planned, and Wolf had gotten a hold of her I.D. keycard without anyone noticing. As Wolf continued to walk towards the next stop on their heist plan, he looked up at the security camera that was watching him and smiled, showing off the card.

Hornet smiled as he watched Wolf in his helmet through the security camera, "Wolf is in position," he reported to the rest of the gang.

Tarantula heard him as she transferred her communication to Piranha, "Piranha, you all penguin-suited and booted?"

Near the kitchen, caterers were pushing out carts that had plates of food all organized on it. Pushing one of those carts was the disguised Piranha, who answered quietly so no one could hear him, except for Webs on the comm, "Affirmative. I'm a clean, mean, Dolphin-stealing machine," he looked up and happily greeted the other caterers, "What's going on, guys?"

While most of the other caterers went left, Piranha turned right and was pushing his cart somewhere. At the ceiling, Hornet saw Piranha separated from the other caterers as he spoke, "Piranha's out."

"I saw him, Hornet," Wolf replied as he was walking towards the stairway at the 2nd floor, eyeing Piranha while smiling, knowing their heist was going on without a hitch. Along the way, he pickpocketed a few of the guests, stealing their wallets, and a pearl necklace along the way.

On the floor, Piranha wheeled his catering cart over to a janitor's closet and jumped up to pull the handle and opened the door. Piranha was waving his fin while looking up on the ceiling where Hornet was watching his and Wolf's every move. Piranha smiled and then pulled the cart inside, ready to set up their next part of the plan.

Hornet nodded as he reported to Wolf, "Alright, Piranha's in. Are you sure you can handle this, Wolf?"

Wolf watched Piranha going inside the janitor's closet, and told Hornet through his comm, "I got this, Hornet. I'm on my way down."

"Perfect. I'll go check on Shark now," Hornet said as he flew all the way down from the chandelier, and headed to the floor where Shark is now.

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5 minutes later, when Wolf entered the janitor's closet with Piranha waiting for him and chopping on lemons, he was heard speaking into the comm, "Webs, what do you say about moving on to step four?"

Tarantula nodded, "Copy that," then, she turned her speech to Shark's comm while watching him on her screen, "Shark, you're up. Do your thing."

Shark gasped happily before asking quietly, "Do I get to improvise?"

Wolf answered on his comm while hiding inside under the tray rack and Piranha placed a plate on top of the serving rack, "Yes, fine. Improvise. But please be subtle."

Shark nodded in agreement, standing up and pouring his drink onto the floor, before he quickly tossed the table away and shouted in a high pitched voice, "i'M HAVING A BABY!!!"

All of the guests in the reception area turned around, looking at the disguised Shark, and gasped in worry as Shark continued the façade in a high-pitched voice, "Is there a doctor? Or perhaps several security guards that could leave their post and help me?!"

On the ceiling, Hornet was watching the whole scene as he facepalmed and groaned, "Seriously? That's not even subtle! I mean, who could fall for that—?"

On cue, the two security guards that were standing by the door that the keycard was needed immediately rushed over to "Help" the "pregnant" Shark.

Hornet was surprised that this distraction Shark made really worked, "Well, I was wrong," he then mumbled to himself, "This guy is really gonna get an award someday."

While this went on, by the elevator nearby, Piranha came out, wheeling the catering cart, and pushed it up to the door, while Wolf secretly used the keycard to unlock it, and opened the door, so they both could enter.

Inside the hallway, both Wolf and Piranha eyed the two guards that were standing in front of the main door, and they nodded at each other, set to do the next part of their plan.

The two guards were keeping watch when they saw a mysterious catering cart roll up towards them. Curiously, one of them picked up a name card that described the "dish" as he read, "Fish surprise?"

However, when they lifted the lid to see the food, they did get a fish surprise: an adorable Piranha, smiling cutely, dressed up like a caterer, kicking his legs in the air, exclaiming, "Surprise!" He leaped off the plate, tackling the two guards.

Not two minutes later, both guards were easily beaten and helplessly laying on the catering cart, with Piranha gently brushing the dust off his outfit, and Wolf holding his phone with the photo at the ready. He kicked the cart away before enlarging the image, trying to make Diane's eye in the photo bigger. However, it still looked very blurry.

With that, he sent the photo to Webs, and asked "Hey, Webs, can you enhance this..."

Not ten seconds later, a perfectly enhanced, clear image was sent back to Wolf, with Tarantula replying, "Done. Eight steps ahead of you, Wolfie."

Wolf used the now clear image to have the scanner scan the eye, as it accepted it, opening the metal doors, allowing Wolf and Piranha inside the backstage area. All the way past a set of lasers was their prize just waiting to be caught: the Golden Dolphin trophy, making Wolf smile and laugh.

Over at the reception area, a lady was speaking through the speakers, "Ladies and gentlemen, your emcee for the Good Samaritan Awards..."

Meanwhile, Shark was practicing the "pregnant breathing" technique to keep up the façade of being pregnant, until he heard Wolf speak through his comm, "All right, Shark, we're in."

Shark quickly stood up and told the people around him, including the officers, "Oops, I forgot, I'm not pregnant," he left to sit elsewhere, making the officers very confused.

At the stage, the announcer then spoke, " ...president of the committee, Governor Diane Foxington," The crowd of people applauded her, with Diane, who was wearing a beautiful magenta dress, walking onto the stage and towards a podium with a mic.

She smiled and said in the mic, "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you so much. Thank you. Last year, we faced our biggest test when a meteorite crashed into our dear city. That meteorite didn't just make a hole in our city. It made a hole in our hearts."

The audience all awed sadly, remembering that day, with Shark even emitting tears as well, to keep up with the disguise. Even Hornet watched the whole scene. Even though he's a bad guy, he still felt sympathy for the disaster made by that meteor.

Diane then continued, "But even in tragedy, Professor Marmalade, he did what he does so well. He made us look at things differently. And thanks to you, Marmalade, the Love Crater Meteorite will forever serve as a symbol of how there is good even in the worst places."

Backstage, while the ceremony was going on, Wolf and Piranha tore off their disguises, revealing their black bodysuits, and took opposite sides of the room, leaping off the stair banisters and statues to get up high towards the ceiling.

On cue, Snake popped his head, and most of his body out, set to be both boys' rope. Wolf and Piranha leaped towards Snake, grabbing onto him, as Wolf barely held on, almost slipping.

Snake did his best to hold them up, "Hurry up."

Piranha climbed up to the top of the vent and held tightly onto Snake's tail, like if he was holding the end of a rope. Slowly, he helped to lower Snake and Wolf down towards the trophy, carefully and cautiously, getting closer and closer.

Wolf, seeing that they were mere inches from grabbing it, commented to Snake, "This is going surprisingly smoothly."

However, when Wolf readied to grab it, the ring he nabbed from Diane earlier flew out and fell, slightly hitting the trophy before it started to fall towards the lasers.

Then, a bunch of rays shot up and were set on fire, as Wolf quickly scrambled to catch the ring before it could hit the lasers, nabbing it with his feet, and barely dodging a laser being fired right at him, which ended up hitting and destroying a statue.

Snake, seeing the lasers, commented, "What the molt is that!?"

Wolf looked up and then saw something that made him gasp, and commented, "The Wolf Hornet Piranha Snake Shark Tarantula Protection System," he pointed to a metal sign attached to the moving rod of one of the lasers that had the acronym for what he just said, and a picture of all six of the Bad Guys' face silhouettes, with a big red "NO" sign over them.

Tarantula overheard Wolf's comment over the comm, "The WHPSST?"

Wolf was close to freaking out, "This was not supposed to happen."

Snake, concerned now, asked, "What?"

Tarantula, in the security room, seemed calm about it, "Guys, calm down. I'm on it. Initiating WHPSST override protocol," she pulled out a red hard drive that had a white skull that had an orange flame on it, and plugged it into her computer.

Tarantula started to type away, trying to hack into the WHPSST system, and said happily when she thought she had it, "Get it, queen!"

However, to her shock, the screen had a big red X, indicating she didn't successfully hack into it. And over in the backstage area, Wolf seemed to sense that something was wrong, "Did it work?"

Tarantula groaned and shouted, "Just give me five minutes," she tried again to hack into it.

However, when Wolf and Snake heard Diane starting to welcome Marmalade to the stage, Snake commented, "We don't have five minutes!"

Over at the reception area, Diane announced, "And now, please help welcome me to the stage... "Professor Marmalade!"

The guinea pig smiled and got up from his seat, interacting with the cheering crowd, who shouted things like, "Aw," and "We love you, Professor Marmalade!"

Shark was spying seeing Marmalade heading to the stage, speaking quietly into his comm, "The pig is on the move. I repeat, the pig is on the move."

Even Hornet saw Marmalade going up the stage as he yelled through his comm, "Webs, hurry up! We're running out of time!"

Wolf was starting to panic, shouting into his comm, "Webs, Webs, the curtain's going up any minute!"

However, despite what Tarantula tried, nothing seemed to be working as she replied, "It's not letting me in!"

Wolf and Snake tried to offer some solutions as Wolf said, "Check your system preferences."

Snake added, "You probably need to download a driver."

Wolf then mentioned, "Try rebooting."

In the security room, Tarantula seemed to be smiling, and said sarcastically, "Oh, my gosh, you fixed it."

But when Wolf and Snake asked, "Really?"

On the comm, Tarantula angrily shouted back, "NOO!"

Just then, through the HUD effect of his helmet, Hornet saw the live footage of Chief Luggins heading to the security room where Tarantula was in,"Oh no," Hornet commented as he spoke through his comm, "Webs, watch out! There's a..."

In Tarantula's end, she heard someone knocking on the door and saw the door handle jiggle, and heard the chief of police's voice , "Hey, Larry. Come on, open up. What did we say about locking doors?"

Tarantula knew that if the chief got in, they were gonna be so busted! She frantically commented, "Oh, no, no, no, no, no," She then communicated to Shark, "Shark, I got a situation here!"

Shark answered back on the comm, "Copy that. I'm on my way."

Tarantula prayed that the chief didn't try to come inside.

"I'll keep a more eye on the chief. I'll be right there, Webs," Hornet said as he left his position, and flew back to the main floor as fast as he could.

In the vents, Piranha could feel his stomach starting to eerily gurgle, as he tried to hold on as hard as he could, commenting strenuously, "Hurry up, guys."

Tarantula knew that it was now or never as she cracked her knuckles, and said, "Time to turn this baby on beast mode."

She pressed a button on her computer, which allowed a smaller set of keyboards to emerge, and shouted in determination, "Eat it, WHPSST!"

As fast as lightning, Tarantula started to type up a storm, trying to quickly override the WHPSST system so her friends could steal the Golden Dolphin and get out in time.

Meanwhile, Piranha could feel something very "gassy" was about to happen, and panicked, "Please, not now. Wolf."

Wolf looked up and knew what was about to happen, and tried to tell Piranha to stop it, "Wait, wait, wait. No, no, Piranha!"

At the reception area, Marmalade was giving an acceptance speech, "This award is for..."

Suddenly, everyone grew quiet when they heard what sounded like a fart, but figured it was nothing, allowing Marmalade to continue, "As I was saying..."

Piranha saw the gas cloud he had emitted was spreading through the vents, and that made him even more worried, because what if someone smelled it?! They were gonna be in even more trouble, making him utter frantically, "No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!"

And was he right about someone smelling it and causing trouble, because in the security room, Tarantula was hard at work trying to hack when she smelled something odd. She turned around and saw Piranha fart cloud entering the room, and she grew frustrated, shouting into her comm., "Piranha! Are you kidding me?!"

She heard his voice answer, "Sorry!"

Tarantula continued her hacking to work.

Back at the reception area, Marmalade was continuing his speech, "And that's why my Gala for Goodness will raise all the money needed for those less fortunate."

The chief of police was starting to get impatient, continuously knocking on the door and shouting in an attempt to get "Larry" to open, "Come on!"

Tarantula saw the whole room become enveloped in Piranha's fart cloud, and in a desperate attempt to try and finish her work without passing out, she took a huge deep breath of the last bit of fresh air in the room and begun trying to hack as fast as she could in the fart cloud.

Meanwhile, the chief was getting angrier, and then commented, "I'm starting to get mad here, Larry," She pulled out a set of keys, finding one to unlock the door.

Hornet was clinging on the wall where he watched Chief Luggins flipping the keys to find the right one for the door. Hornet gasped as he knew if the chief found the key, she would soon find Webs inside, and the jig is up, "Shark, hurry up. I don't think Webs have time!" Hornet said through his helmet when contacting Shark.

"I'll be there as soon as possible. Just stay there, and keep an eye on Chief for me." Shark replied to him. But Hornet was in a state of panic as he couldn't just sit here and wait for Shark or the chief to open the door and catch Tarantula inside.

Tarantula was trying her best, but the fumes were starting to get to her, and they were so strong, it made her eyes water and that made it hard to see.

Wolf panicked through the comm, "Webs! Webs!"

Tarantula kept holding in her breath and tried to wipe away the stinging eye tears from the gas cloud, so she could finish the second half of her attempt to hack into WHPSST.

On stage, Diane announced, "And now the moment we've all been waiting for," and was getting set to give Marmalade the trophy.

The curtain started to rise, about to show the backstage. Wolf and Snake saw this and panicked, trying to move upward to avoid getting seen, while also trying to dodge the lasers that still followed them.

In the security room, Tarantula was close to completion, and had almost finished successfully hacking into the system, but the fart cloud became too much, and with a heavy heart, and a last teardrop, she slumped over onto the desk and passed out.

Wolf and Snake were panicking as they saw the curtain that separated the front and back stage, panicking that they were gonna get seen.

Outside, the chief had used the key to unlock the door, and had just slightly opened it, since she was trying to open it so she could go inside, when she heard a high-pitched voice ask her that made her turn around, "Excuse me. Is this the ladies' room?"

It turned out to be Shark, in his female disguise.

Hornet saw Shark finally arrive as he sighed in relief, "Phew!"

The chief luckily didn't recognize Shark in disguise, and answered happily, "Oh, uh, y-you need to take a right at the end of the hall, ma'am."

However, because she wasn't paying attention, the chief didn't notice that the slightly cracked opened door was the miracle that made the fart cloud disappear.

Hornet noticed the fart cloud escaping from the room. That meant Tarantula can breathe while focusing on her hacking, "Webs, Webs, wake up. You're all clear!

This made Tarantula come back to it, so she could finish the job. With a few quick clicks on her keyboard, Tarantula was able to override the last column to completely override the entire WHPSST system.

Tarantula smiled victoriously, "Yes. Woopang!"

However, she was greeted to one last nasty surprise: a tab appeared, "I'm not a tarantula"

This made Tarantula groan, and shouted, "Oh, come on!"

She used her mouse pad to scroll the pointer to the box to confirm she "wasn't" a tarantula, and that was the final key that turned off the WHPSST system, shutting the rays down, making Wolf and Snake very relieved, and just in time too.

On stage, Diane proclaimed, "And now it is my honor to award Professor Marmalade with the Golden Dolphin," She was set to pick up the trophy to give to Marmalade.

However, the audience, Marmalade, and Diane were in for a shock to see that the Golden Dolphin... was gone!

The audience was in dismay, including Diane herself, who uttered, "No."

"No," Marmalade added in concern.

By the security room door, Shark overheard what had happened and exclaimed to himself in his normal voice, "Yes," Then, he straightened up, acting lady-like again, and said in a high-pitch voice, "I mean, yes!" He gave the chief a friendly lady wave before walking away, while the chief stood there in confusion, before shrugging, not thinking about it too much.

However, when she opened the door all the way, she was greeted by a sight that made her scream in panic: a computer screen that showed that the Golden Dolphin was missing. She ran off, shutting the door behind her, but forgot all about Larry, who was still tied up and gagged with duct tape, hanging from the ceiling.

Back at the reception area, Diane tried to keep the peace with the panicking crowd, "Everyone, everyone, uh, please don't panic. Just stay calm. I'm-I'm sure there's an explanation for this. I repeat, uh, please do not panic."

With all this mayhem going on, no one saw the Bad Guys, back in their original disguises, slowly walking away, making a clean getaway, with the trophy hidden somewhere so they could take it out without anyone seeing them.

With their heist complete, Wolf smiled and said softly to the team, "Nice work, everybody. Now, let's make like a wolf and get the pack out of here."

Piranha chuckled, "Ah, wordplay. I don't get it."

Hornet rolled his eyes, and facepalmed, "Ugh, Piranha, try to keep up, man." He clapped the back of his hand with his other hand while growling at Piranha.

Marmalade, wanting to help everyone stay calm, stated, "Diane, Diane, if I may..." while running up to the podium, climbing up to the top of it, and holding the microphone in his paws. He faced the crowd, "You have to understand, I didn't bring hope back to the city for an award. I did these good things because of how they made me feel."

The Bad Guys didn't seem to be paying attention to what Marmalade said as they were sure of having a nice, clear exit, even when Marmalade said, "That tingly feeling I get. That shivers up my spine. The wag in my tiny tail."

At the sound of the "Wagging tail" part, Wolf suddenly...stopped, and turned around, removing his glasses and looked up at Marmalade, listening to what the guinea pig said next.

Marmalade, with the sweetest look in his eyes, commented, "Because, you see, being good just feels so good. And when you're good, you're loved."

Wolf couldn't help but find a sense of wonder in that, but before he could divulge his feelings any deeper, Wolf felt his tail wagging, and tried to get it to stop, with his team watching in confusion.

"Wolf," whispered Snake.

"Wolf," whispered Piranha.

"What are you doing," whispered Shark, in his normal voice.

"Stop that," whispered Hornet.

"Go," whisper-shouted the whole team, trying to get Wolf to come back to them so they could escape.

However, the commotion made one of the guests turn around and see Wolf standing there without his hat or glasses, and his fake mustache falling off. He immediately recognized who he was, and shouted in fright, "It's the Bad Guys!"

All of the guests started to scream and panic at the sight of the Bad Guys with the chief of police stepping in, pushing two of the guests aside so she could stand up front, and shouted, "Arrest them!"

The other officers quickly moved in, sliding down police lines, or leaping off the ledge up on the upper floor, and together, they quickly surrounded the Bad guys, giving them nowhere to run.

Backed into a corner, thinking that she had finally got them somewhere where she could catch them, she exclaimed while pointing at the Bad Guys, "They stole the Golden Dolphin!"

Wolf tried to play it cool, making it seem like his team was innocent as he said while crossing his arms and leaning up against Snake, "Come on, you can't prove that."

However, the Golden Dolphin Trophy that dropped from under Shark's dress could as Shark also tried to play it cool, shouting in his female voice, "My baby," but it was no use.

Hornet facepalmed once again. He knew Shark's acting was useless since they were exposed, "Shark, knock it off! The jig is up!"

There seemed to be absolutely no escape as the chief stepped forward, cracking her knuckles, and set to arrest them with the other officers excitedly, "On your knees, Bad Guys! With your hands up!"

However, none of the Bad Guys had any intentions of getting caught, especially Snake, who slithered forward from behind Wolf, and shouted, "Never! We're out of here!"

Wolf launched his grappling hook onto the ceiling, as it broke through the glass ceiling, set to pull everyone up. The rest of the Bad guys gathered together, holding tightly onto Wolf so they could all be pulled up to safety, while Snake wrapped around them, securing all of them together like a seat belt. Hornet didn't need to stick with the guys. He already could fly, so all he needed is to just follow his friends when they made their escape.

"So long, suckers!" Wolf exclaimed. However, when Wolf pressed the button for the line to retract, instead of the grappling hook pulling the team up, it tore Wolf's pants up, leaving Wolf in his boxers. All of the guests, officers, and even the team themselves looked down at what had just occurred, while Wolf felt quite embarrassed, shooting a sheepish smile while he brushed his hand back to the back of his head, and commented sheepishly, "Well, this just got a little weird."

Hornet couldn't help but groan embarrassingly, and facepalmed once again, disappointed by Wolf's failure of helping the team escape. Despite that Hornet could fly, he couldn't bear to go without them. He rather stayed and got captured with the team than leaving them behind. The entire team of Bad Guys all grinned sheepishly, hoping that everyone wasn't going to take this too seriously... but they were wrong.

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Special thanks to MasterClass60 for helping me with this chapter! This is a long one, and I can't make it myself!

I hope you like this chapter. Please comment and stay tune!

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[aiiwa]

BEAUTIFUL IN BLUE — IWAIZUMI HAJIME.

— iwaizumi hajime.

⤷ genre: college au - fluff / smut

⤷ warnings: cursing, mature content and themes. smut: fingering (vaginal and anal), unprotected sex. kind of proof read but if you see a typo...no you didn’t.

⤷ word count: 6.4k

— a/n: set in the “FRESHMAN YEAR” universe, and is a continuation of “PRETTY IN PINK” - which i suggest reading before this. for those who wanted some real action after pretty in pink, this is for you <3.

a couple of weeks had passed since the incident. at least that’s what you had been addressing the day you had sent photos of you modelling your new lingerie to iwa, as. things had seemingly returned back to normal, photo unmentioned, and still your steady friendship continued with the oblivious brunette.

and now november had announced its arrival, with your boots beginning to disappear under crunchy oceans of cherry, merigold and bronze, and the potent, musky-sweet smell of browning leaves swirling around the air. it was the tell tale sign that fall was well and truly here, and what better of a time to drive out of town for the day, and celebrate momijigari.

at least that’s what you had told yourself before, what was meant to be a two hour drive, turned into over three hours spent in a car with the oversized toddlers know as your best friends.

“i’m hungry~!” whined toddler number one from behind you.

mattsun outstretched his long arms, reaching around the passenger seat you sat in, in an attempt to steal more of your snacks. you had made sure everyone knew to bring their own food and water, double- no, triple checked everyone was on the same page. but of course it was no surprise that mattsun was the only one to turn up empty handed. so when his grabby hands slapped against your cheeks for the nth time, you angled your face and snapped your jaw right on his thumb.

mattsun shrieks, jolting back away from you. “fucking hell, y/n!”

twisting around in your seat, you smirk, watching as he checked over the distinct bite mark on his red thumb.

“ha, serves you right.” pipes the figure slouched next to mattsun in the back seat. “ugh i need to take a leak.”

the peach-haired, number two toddler was none other than makki. he’d woken up cranky that morning, and it only seemed to worsen when he’d been shoved into the back with the chatty mattsun. within the first ten minutes he had tried to suffocate the latter with his pillow, and when that didn’t work, he took to blasting music in his headphones and facing himself towards the window for majority of the ride. only engaging with everyone when you began snacking, and he had decided to drink all of his juice just to spite mattsun.

“oi, iwa! control your gremlin!”

“shut up.”

“no, you shut up! you didn’t even want to share your juice with me!”

“i will literally piss on you right now.”

losing interest in the bickering duo behind you, your attention diverted to the third, brooding toddler beside you in the driver’s seat. you had spent majority of the drive admiring the way iwa handled himself behind the wheel; the flex of his arms under the fitted cotton of his blue long sleeve as he turned the wheel, and how the pads of his long fingers would tap against the worn leather to the beat of whatever tune began playing on shuffle. yet out of everything, it was when iwa took to mumbling the lyrics of whichever cheesy love song you were belting out to, that you found yourself falling even deeper into the pit of your affections for him.

throughout the drive, iwa had mostly managed to ignore the others’ antics - with your intervention of course. but with how tight his grip on the steering wheel had become from the squabbling in the backseat, and the dark look brewing under his cap; it was clear how close he was to losing his cool.

extending your arm out in front of him, you offer the hershey bar in your hand, brushing it against the pout of his bottom lip. iwa’s olive eyes glance questioningly at you from the side, to which you only offer a small grin.

“take a bite.” you order. the, ‘you look like you need it,’ is silent, but obvious in the way you prod the treat at his closed mouth.

“mmph-”

his eyes returned to the road before him as he parted his lips, pink tongue making a brief appearance before he took a small bite of your chocolate. you attempt to retract your arm, until iwa moves one hand to grab your wrist; bringing you back to him to take a bigger bite of the sweet, thumb rubbing against the inner side of your palm.

the corner of his mouth tugs upwards, as he mumbles a small, “thank you.”

heat floods your cheeks, and you catch yourself before you drop the chocolate on his lap. distracted by the deafening beat of your heart pounding in your ears, you don’t notice the silence that fills the car, or the not-so subtle click of mattsun snapping a photo of the two of you in the front and sending it to the group chat. you’re pulled out of your slight trance, by a flash of peach entering your field of view.

“that was disgusting...ly sweet. and now i suddenly need to puke, so hurry it up would you.”

as makki leans back, mattsun is quick to replace him, popping his head between you and iwa.

“don’t just ignore me, y/n, feed me chocolate too!”

rolling your eyes, you shove the bar in his mouth; the rest of you three laugh as he falls back into his seat, all the while he happily munches on the treat.

a little time passes before iwa’s flicking his indicator, signalling his turn into the free parking space outside the nature reserve. he shifts the gear into park before everyone piles out - makki walking over to wrap his thick, fossil grey scarf around your neck, the cashmere soft against your skin; while mattsun offers to carry your little backpack, only sending you a sly smile when you question his reasoning for taking the bag from you. you hug iwa’s offered arm to your chest, as the four of you start trekking along the uneven pathways leading towards lake kawaguchi. the walk isn’t necessarily long, but none of you are in a rush - strolling leisurely and enjoying the atmosphere.

and when you finally reach the end of your walk, you still yourself, awestruck by the beauty surrounding you. the glassy lake shimmering under the afternoon rays, crisp maple leaves painted red, swaying to the breezy flow of the cool wind, and the tinkling laughter from young children running about on the golden fields - filled your chest with warmth.

“it’s so beautiful here.”

your voice comes out as a whisper for only iwa’s ears to hear; with makki off to relieve himself and mattsun trailing after him, acting as if you didn’t see him rummaging through your snacks. iwa only hums in agreement, missing the way he hasn’t even acknowledged the view, his gaze set solely on you.

this is what the tradition of momijigari meant; taking time away from your busy schedule to spend a moment to enjoy this small piece of life. and of course, capturing the moment with some of your favourite people on camera. so when you busied yourself with taking photos with the towering men, it really shouldn’t have surprised you when your phone began to buzz with an incoming facetime call.

sliding your thumb across the screen to answer the call, you’re greeted by the sight of oikawa’s toothy grin; illuminated by a bright light you knew had to be artificial, since it was nearing two a.m. in argentina.

“yahoo, y/n-chan! you didn’t think i’d miss out on a photoshoot did you? i already missed out on you feeding me chocolate!” you shoot an embarrassed glanced at iwa, noticing the slight furrow between his brows and the faint dust of pink across his cheeks.

“photoshoot…?” a confused makki mumbles behind you.

mattsun leans over your shoulder, shoving his face in the camera. “oi, isn’t it late for you?”

you raise a single shaped brow as oikawa scoffs, brushing his fingers through his perfectly styled hair. “the pretty face of this group has finally blessed you, and that’s all you have to say?” mattsun scrunches his face in offence, as oikawa continues. “besides, i may be in a different country but i refuse to miss out!”

and it was because of his soft pout that you found yourself posing with your phone by your face, making sure to catch oikawa’s best angles; having long given up on questioning the setter and his antics. the so-called photoshoot came to an abrupt end later on when a tired and cranky oikawa yawned, apparently ruining another photo according to him, and iwa’s finger just so happened to slip and disconnect the video call.

“he’s stubborn.” was all he had said when you, makki and mattsun side eyed him. “we should head back home before it gets late.”

the drive back to tokyo seemed relatively faster than the journey to fujikawaguchiko. it was as if your body went into autopilot as you sat behind the wheel, this time taking responsibility as the driver while the boys napped; only coming to when you were parking iwa’s truck into their apartment’s parking lot, moments after the sun had set.

it was a silent and unanimous decision to order take out for dinner, the four of you seated around the black walnut dining table to dig in. meal times with the boys were hectic, and competitive for the most part - it was survival of the fittest. you were often being challenged by mattsun - tonight having lost the last few gyoza to him.

though it became obvious who the real loser was when mattsun flopped his head onto your lap, while you were lounging out on the settee.

“y/n~” mattsun drawled out. “rub my belly, it hurts!”

“no.”

“please, y/n~! my one and only best friend, the moon to my stars, the curry to my rice-”

he releases a satisfied sigh once you reach a hand out to press your palm against his stomach, rubbing soothing circles to stop his whining; and you catch makki roll his beady eyes at the two of you, as he flicks through suggested films to watch on netflix. iwa strolls into the living room, pillows and a comforter stacked in his arms; laying them neatly on the couch he shares with you on movie nights.

“oh, iwa, could you send me the photos please?” he nods his head once, barely glancing over at you and mattsun; pulling out his phone and dropping himself unceremoniously across the adjacent sofa. “thank you.” you call out once your phone pings with several notifications.

still rubbing mattsun’s stomach, your free hand casually scrolls through the pictures from today.

you snicker to yourself at the first series of chaotic images. a selfie with smushed faces pressed together and a phone-sized oikawa tucked right under your jaw, a blurry pic of the boys throwing vermillion leaves at each other, and even a timed snapshot where you, mattsun and makki had leapt on iwa’s back - your legs wrapped around his torso, while makki squished you from behind, and mattsun had flopped himself on top of the pile. there was even a shot of the aftermath, your phone and oikawa somehow surviving the tumble, and a deadpanned iwa staring straight at the camera as the three of you behind him cackled with your heads thrown back.

at least a few wholesome pictures had been captured. a sweet group photo with all of you huddled by each other in front of a vibrant maple tree; you and iwa were flanked by mattsun and makki respectively, as oikawa was held between you and iwa like a prized trophy. even a rare moment where makki and mattsun had their arms hooked around each other, with easy going grins on both of their faces, had been caught.

butterflies erupted in your tummy, fluttering about once you swiped to the next photo. it was a candid shot of you and iwa standing by the brilliant blue lake front. you were leaning into his side, holding two leaves at the top of your head to mimic cat ears, face tilted upwards. giggling, your eyes were shut, and only now can you see that you missed the soft smile iwa donned looking down at you.

it was almost painful to admit that together you looked like a couple, and it didn’t help that most times you even acted as such. sneaking a glance at the man in question, you watch him chatting quietly to makki, gripping your phone tightly in your grasp at the sound of him laughing at whatever snide comment escaped your peach-haired friend. you couldn’t help but sigh, being in love with one of your best friends only got harder each day.

unknowingly you had already swiped to the last photo iwa had sent, so when you return your gaze the screen, you shriek; dropping your phone flat on mattsun’s face.

“um, what the fuck, ow.”

iwa’s sharp eyes shoot towards you instantly. “what’s wrong?”

you only shake your head, warmth filling your cheeks and an itch you just can’t scratch prickling under your skin. makki only shrugs, shifting his attention back to the television. iwa is more hesitant, the feeling of his olive eyes giving you a once over does nothing to calm your nerves from being sent into overdrive. when he finally turns away, you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“ugh, what even had you going even more crazy than usual all of a sudden?” mattsun groans from your lap. as he reaches to lift your phone off of his face, you’re quick to snatch the device away.

“n-nothing!” he only raises a thick brow at your defensive tone, before grabbing your hand to continue your ministrations.

glancing around the room, you pull the screen close to your face; taking in the photo, you felt your mouth run dry. 

there was no way this could have been sent to you on purpose - because the sight of a shirtless iwa at his second home, the gym, was definitely not taken at lake kawaguchi. anyone with eyes could tell how ripped iwa was under his fitted shirts. but over the past few months you had noticed that he’d run off to the gym more often; and it was obvious in the way his clothes struggled to stretch over his bulked up build these days.

it was a mid work out, mirror selfie; iwa’s dark, mocha coloured hair plastered to his forehead, bare chest glistening from the sweat dripping down from his neck. he was seated on the rubber floor, one long, tanned leg stretched out in front of him with the other bent at the knee, elbow resting loosely against his leg. your eyes greedily took in the defined dips of his toned stomach, dark snail trail leading downwards to the evident bulge of his grey shorts; the hem cutting into the flexed muscles of his thighs.

the heat pooling between your thighs as your imagination ran wild was just about to peak when-

“oi, y/n.” you almost jump, locking your screen, and blinking away the dazed look in your eyes. when your vision cleared, you found makki standing in front of you. “we’re gonna watch the movie now.”

“oh, right.”

mattsun rolls off your lap with a groan, complaining to makki about who is gonna rub his belly now, while you stand up. shuffling over to iwa, he stretches before shifting and making room for you to squeeze in next to him.

“c’mere.” he mumbles, throwing his arm around you and pulling you into his side.

the beat of your pounding heart is almost deafening in your ears, you’re near to hyperventilating, as your mind is sent into overdrive. the two of you were always cuddling platonically during movies, ever since the one time you had complained about being cold in their apartment. but this time was different. ‘is this how he felt when you had sent a picture of your new lingerie?’ you think to yourself. you spend the next hour deep in your thoughts, completely lost to whatever is happening in the sci-fi film makki had chosen, and when the end credits start rolling on the screen - iwa announces he’ll drop you off back to your dorm.

it’s close to midnight; so makki wishes you a goodnight, as a sleepy mattsun rests against his shoulder, making grabby hands for you not to go. you wave as you leave, following after iwa who opens the passenger side door of his truck, helping you jump up into the seat, before closing the door and making his way to the driver’s side.

your dorm isn’t too far from their apartment complex, so you’re not surprised at how quick the ride is. the street is unusually busy, yet completely void of any roaming students. and with no private parking for students, iwa’s forced to pull up near a secluded cluster of tall trees, a bit away from the dorm entrance.

“i’ll walk you in.” iwa says, leaving no room for argument. he reaches for his phone, as a message flashes across his screen. “oh, oikawa asked why you’ve been ignoring his messages.”

“huh?” you flip your own phone in your hand, watching as the facial recognition unlocks and suddenly iwa’s gym selfie is on full display for the both of you. it takes a moment for you to process the situation, and all you can manage is a simple, “oh,” as you resist the urge to fling your phone out of the window.

“nice photo.” iwa pipes up, you don’t even try to look at him, but the smirk in his tone is evident. “where’d you get it?”

his question throws you off, and you’re quick to turn your head to narrow your eyes at him. “what do you mean? iwa, you literally sent it to me?!”

“really? shit i must have done it by accident.”

“an accident?”

“yeah, like what you did to me. remember?”

you gasp, moving back almost as if you’ve been struck, while iwa simply laughs at your expression. a full on belly laugh that has him throwing his head back, illuminated by the glow emitting through his open moon roof. you should’ve been dwelling in the embarrassment that came with him turning your own words back on you - yet you found your own laughter mixing in with his. only when both of you had calmed down a bit, did an electrified silence fill the car.

fiddling with your phone in your lap, the strands of hair curtaining the sides of your face, is brushed aside and tucked behind the cuff of your ear. glancing at iwa, the corner of his mouth is pulled up into a fond smile as his thumb caresses the shell of your ear.

“sorry for teasing you, pretty lady. couldn’t help myself after you sent me that picture looking all pretty in pink.”

“i…” words escape you as his large hand trails down the side of your cheek. you’re suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to do something - it’s almost at the tip of your tongue, before you grab at his wrist and whisper a, “fuck it.”

leaning over the middle, you reach a hand to hold the back of his head as your lips press against his own. lips even softer than they appeared, the lingering taste of his wild cherry lip balm, the same one you owned, tasted sweeter than you remembered. after a moment, of the kiss not being reciprocated, you pull back.

“just had to do it once.” you murmur, lips still tingling.

iwa’s minty breath fans across your face as he releases an airy sigh. “then let’s do it a second time.”

this time his hand wraps loosely around your neck, pulling you towards him, and slanting his mouth over yours. you moan into the kiss as his tongue darts out to tease your lower lip. leaning into him, you almost keel forward as this time he pulls away. slightly breathless, you open your eyes to take in the barely restrained lust and adoration in his handsome features, mimicking you’re own.

“third time’s a charm, right?”

the devilish grin iwa gives you in response to your innocently posed question, has you climbing over the centre console. at the same time he’s rolling the chair back away from the leather steering wheel, making space for you to slide onto his lap and straddle him. molding your lips to his, the feeling of your tongue exploring his mouth and you grinding into him slowly; has him release a hiss as his hands grab at the fullness of your ass.

tugging at his collar, your words are muffled against his mouth. “take this off, now.”

he chuckles at your demand, pulling the hem of his shirt past the bulk of his shoulders and over his head - blindly throwing it to the backseat. you drag your eyes over the sight of his broad chest, taking in every delicious dip of his stomach; leaning forward, your tongue licks a tentative stripe along his neck, that has iwa’s breath hitch before peppering wet kisses along his skin. your hands roam around his toned body, while his own larger ones slide under your top; a searing hot trail following his exploration of your body. he draws small circles at your hips, leading up to hold your waist and bring your even closer against him.

“your turn, baby.” he whispers to you, fisting the bottom half of your top. “be fair to me, i wanna see more of you.”

sitting up straight in his lap, you slip the thin top over your head; following his suit in flinging it to the backseat. your hair brushed past your bare shoulders, exposed skin feeling the chill of the autumn night; but the look in iwa’s olive eyes, irradiated by the moonlight streaming in from the uncovered moonroof, was scorching hot. rough palms, flat against your smooth skin, slid over your tummy, teasing the sheer mesh of your bra, before playing with the baby blue ribbons on the straps.

“y/n.” iwa groans out, tracing the floral stitching and feeling the hardened nubs of your nipples under the fabric. with the moon haloing behind you, the way he stares up at you is so raw and intense, it has you frozen in anticipation. “you look so fucking beautiful in blue.”

he doesn’t wait for your response as he reaches behind you to unhook your bra, freeing your breasts from its confines. iwa’s quick to take a pebbled nub into his hot mouth, suckling as his fingers tweak the other. your fingers thread through his dark locks, when he moves and switches his focus; a lewd string of saliva dragging from your nipple to his pink tongue. stuttered grinding from his mouth distracting you, had you reaching a hand between each other to palm his erection - wanting to ease some of the tension. but iwa’s quick to snatch your hand away.

“iwa...let me touch you?”

releasing you from his mouth, he kisses the pout from your lips. “no, baby, don’t worry about me.”

“why not?” you whine.

“i wanna make you feel real good, gotta prep you for me first. is that okay with you, baby?” he only smiles softly as you start to relax against him. “i need to know if you’re okay with this. care about you so much, i just want you to be comfortable. let me know if you wanna stop right now.”

“no, h-haji...please, i don’t want to stop. i want you so bad. i need you, ah-”

your consent was all he needed before he pulls you back into him, kissing you so slow you feel dizzy; his hands travel low on your body, working the button of your jeans, as your fingers dig into his shoulders. when he breaks away from you, he helps you slip out of the dark denim, tugging each pant leg off until all you wearing is the stringy, baby blue panties that leaves little to the imagination.

“fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me.” iwa groans out, rubbing a hand across his face as you giggle lightly. while you hover over him, he quickly strips off his pants, kicking them off onto the floor before grabbing onto your hips. “flip around on me, baby. that’s right, face the front.”

settling down onto his lap, the thin cotton of his briefs does nothing to hide the print of his hard-on he’s sporting underneath. and with your back pressed to his warm chest, you roll your hips teasingly into him.

“come on, haji...let me help you.” you huff, continuing to grind against him.

“oi, cut it out.”

his grip on your hips tighten in warning, and you gasp as he manhandles you easily. shifting you around so that the heel of your left foot digs into his thigh, the other secured at the edge of the leather wheel; he has your legs wide open. before you can even think about any stragglers catching you so vulnerable; iwa hooks his arm under your thigh, pads of his fingers brushing over your clothed pussy.

“haaaa~” you breathe out, hips jerking into his touch.

“fuck baby, your panties are soaked.” he continues to tease you over the drenched crotch of your panties. iwa rubs lazy circles, casually sliding under the material to play with your silk folds. his touches have you yearning for more, as you feel yourself slowly going insane as he starts to coat his fingers in your slick.

“mmm...touch me, haji...properly.”

wriggling around in his embrace, you keen once he pulls his hand away from you; holding his fingers before you, showing off how they glisten so prettily in under the moon. and then you watch over your shoulder as he leads his hand to his mouth, and licks his fingers clean.

“you taste so fucking sweet.” he’s quick to bring his fingers back to your drooling pussy, coating his fingers once again, but this time bringing them to your own lips. “here, have a taste for yourself.”

opening your mouth, iwa wastes no time pressing his long digits flat against your tongue. sucking on his fingers, you savour the saccharine essence of your pussy; moaning at your own flavour sending your tastebuds into overdrive. iwa hums, heated gaze taking in the way you take his fingers in your mouth; he slowly pulls them back out with a pop - smiling softly at the way you stare at him, all wide-eyed and wanton.

“should we get you out of these messy panties now, baby?”

at your eager nods, iwa presses a kiss to your shoulder as he has you lift your hips up; slipping your soaked panties off, and placing them on the passenger seat side the two of you. sitting you back down against him, he hooks both arms around the undersides of your thighs, grabbing at your soft flesh and spreading you wide open for him. you whimper when a big hand cups your sex, rough palm brushing against your throbbing clit.

“shh.” iwa coos, entranced with how you’re rolling your hips to grind against his hand. “i got you.”

he presses his thumb against your clit, circling the sensitive bud peaking past your puffy lips; as his middle finger teases your slit. slowly he pushes his finger inside you, a heavy, relieved moan escapes your throat, as he easily slides in and out of you. through heavy lidded eyes you watch as fog clouds the windows of iwa’s truck, the glass steamy; while perspiration collects between your bodies. you’re brought back to focus on iwa, when he teases a second finger against your slit, dipping inside you and stretching you out even more. hissing, you clench around him; the lewd squelches as he fucks you with his thick fingers, has you digging your heels into his thigh and the steering wheel.

the way iwa’s fingers reaches deeper inside than you could ever on your own, and the added stimulation to your clit, has the tightening coil in your belly snap as you cum all over his hand.

“oh baby, feels good doesn’t it?”

“yeshhh...h-haji, mmph-”

he doesn’t stop pumping you with his fingers, letting you ride out your orgasm to the end. even when you feel the high descend, twitching at the slight overstim, you expect him to stop. but all he does is bury his face in the crook between your shoulder and neck, dragging his teeth across the sensitive skin as the hand not occupied with your pussy, fondles your ass. you lean into him, mewling at his touches when your breath hitches at a new sensation.

“haji, no! it’s dirty!”

the hand at your ass had moved to pet at your puckered hole - completely drenched in your cum, he was sure he could slide a single finger in with ease. and he was right. the feeling of your tight hole being prodded, stretched by the tip of his forefinger, before sucking the entire digit inside - had you throwing your head back in pleasure.

“f-ah-uck! oh shit, nghhh!”

“you gonna cum again for me, baby?”

the feeling of both your ass and pussy being stuffed full of iwa’s fingers is overwhelming. you’re a panting and moaning mess, writhing on top of him. and when the back of your head is thrown back into iwa’s shoulder, all you can see is hazy stars in the sky as you stare up, completely intoxicated by the feeling of his fingers moving inside you - brushing against the thin barrier of skin between your two holes. the familiar pressure in your tummy has you bucking your hips and crying out.

“you’re squeezing my fingers so tight.” he maintains the same steady pace, fucking his fingers into you nice and deep, while working your sensitive clit. its only a few seconds later he hits a particular spot that has you jolting forward, crying out at your sudden release. “shit, that’s right, i can feel you cumming all over my hands again, baby.”

you can barely think straight as your body trembles from the aftershocks of your second orgasm. still in a daze, iwa eases his fingers out of your twitching holes, and you groan at the empty feeling.

“you okay?” iwa asks, wrapping his arm around your waist. you nod, chest heaving as you attempt to steady your breathing. “you think you can cum one more time from my fingers-”

“no!” you grab at his wrists when he moves to play with you again. “i need you inside me, haji. please.”

whatever calm iwa had possessed while pleasuring you had vanished at your words. sticky hands lifted you up by your waist, turning you around to straddle him - while he slightly lowered the back of his seat. lip locked, your hands find themselves wrapped around the nape of his neck, while iwa’s hands grab at your body - stilling your wriggling form as he grinds up into you.

without breaking the kiss, you reach down and ease your fingers under the elastic waistband of his briefs; hand brushing against the tip of iwa’s cock. that earns you a muffled groan as he allows you to hover over him and slide the boxer briefs down his muscled thighs. your mouth salivates at the sight of his cock slapping against his toned stomach. he was easily the biggest you’d ever seen, with a thick vein on the underside, and a red, angry tip leaking pre-cum.

“fuck, you’re so big haji.”

he hisses when your hand touches him, you can barely wrap your fingers around him; and you start to question if he could even fit inside you. iwa notices the slight hesitation in your movements.

“we don’t have to.” he reassures, brushing the hair out of your lust filled eyes. “i can play with you some more, or i can eat you out in the back seat-”

“-haji.” you cut him off, stroke him before lining him at your dripping entrance, grinding the leaking tip across your slit. “i’ve wanted this for so long.” lowering yourself, you gasp at the delicious stretch of his tip entering you. “i’ve wanted you for so long. don’t hold back, give me everything.” and with that, you completely impale yourself on his cock.

“fuck, y/n, i can feel you clamping down on me- shit baby, you gotta move.”

lifting one leg at a time, you shift around off of your knees, steadying yourself on your tip toes; before grabbing onto iwa’s shoulders and starting to slowly ride him. his hands roam across your body freely, loving squeezes trailed in their path, as praise after praise is whispered out to you.

“you take my cock so well, fuck.”

your fingers dig into his shoulder blades as you quicken your pace. bouncing yourself faster on his fat cock, iwa’s attention is drawn to to the way your breasts move in front of him; massaging the soft flesh, and then leaning forward to smush his face between them.

“could stay right here forever.” his muffled voice croons. 

you whimper at the feeling of his hot tongue dragging a wet trail down the valley between your breasts, and you’re certain plum love bites will have bloomed across your chest by sunrise. your arms shoot up to press against the foggy glass of the moon roof above you, palms pressed flat against the steamy window, handprints painted on the transparent screen - as you bounce harder and faster. the lewd sound of your ass slapping against his thighs and of your pussy sucking him in with each stroke; shows how desperate you are to cum again.

“you’ll cum on my cock, won’t you baby? i can feel how close you are, shit, you’re so close aren’t you?”

the way you ride him gradually becomes sloppier the closer you are to cumming, so when he holds your waist and helps you bounce on him, you cry out in relief.

“f-fuck, feels s’g-good, haji! nghh, yes, yes, yes-!”

only as he reaches a hand down to roll your sensitive clit between his index and thumb, do you fall apart on his cock. your velvety walls spasm around him as he continues to fuck you through your high in chase of his own, overstimming you even more as you cream all over him, tongue lolling out. the sheer intensity of your orgasm has you collapsing forward onto his heaving chest, a babbling mess, while he holds you to him.

“you made such a mess on me, baby.” he huffs out.

“h-haji.” you whimper into his neck, arms looped around his. “s’too sensitive, haaa~”

your knees are by his hips, the tops of your feet pressed against his inner thighs, as he rolls his hips into you. large hands slide down your spine, over the curve of your ass to knead the smooth flesh in his palms.

“just hold on to me baby. you got one last one for me, don’t you?” all you can do is nod, releasing an onslaught of mewls and moans. “that’s a good girl, fuck.”

iwa is relentless in pursuit of his own orgasm - fucking into you at a punishing pace that has your mouth jar open in a silent cry, his truck jolting with each snap of his hips. your juices completely drench his cock, allowing him to slide in and out of you with ease, and you’re sure by now your pussy has been shaped out by the imprint of his cock. you can feel him throbbing inside of you, close to his climax; while his fingers dig into your ass shoving you down on his cock, and hitting your sweet spot over and over that you can’t help but gush all over him yet again.

“h-ah-ji, hnghh!” you sob, your body spent and thighs slick with your cum.

iwa only lasts a little longer with the way you were clenching down on him; pulling out of your fucked out pussy, and setting you on his thighs. he fists his cock in his hand, jerking himself a few times before thick, white cum spurts out - coating his entire hand and painting his stomach.

“mmm baby, that was fucking amazing.” he growls out, leaning back into the seat to catch his breath. “d’you feel okay?”

you only hum, entranced by how much cum he spilled. or wasted, you thought to yourself.

“can you reach over to the back and grab the towel in my gym bag, gotta clean us up…” your lack of focus has iwa trailing off. “y/n?”

“we don’t need the towel.”

reaching for the hand covered in his seed, you bring it to your mouth. iwa tries to question what you meant by that, though he’s cut off when you lick a tentative strip across his palm. gathering his cum on your tongue, you swirl his essence around in your mouth, before swallowing. you make a show of taking each finger in your mouth, sucking his cum clean. once his hand is licked clean, you slide down his lap; ready to do the same over his abs.

“you’re so good to me, y/n.” iwa runs his fingers through your hair, and then pats your head. “y/n?” he calls out again, still petting your head just as your about to trace the dips of his stomach with your tongue.

“hmm?”

“y/n? y/n?”

you move back away from him. “what?”

“y/n? oi, y/n? wake up!”

iwa watches as you jolt up from where you had fallen asleep on his lap. makki, who had been hovering over you, moves away as you try to swat at him - a confused look on your face.

“huh?”

“you fell asleep.” makki informs her. “you were interrupting the movie. if you’re that tired, just sleep in one of our rooms.”

lazed out on the other couch, mattsun pipes up; “yeah, you were making these ugly noises and then iwa said you licked his hand, what a weirdo.”

he only clears his throat awkwardly, finding a sudden interest in the beige walls of their living room. he misses the horrified expression on your pretty face, scrunched up in utter embarrassment, before you turn to start arguing with mattsun.

iwa was grateful for the pillow resting over lap, hiding the evident hard-on he was sporting. he wanted to argue with mattsun too, because the sounds you made were definitely far from ugly.

© 2020 AIIWA. please do not copy, modify or repost my work.

[peachsayshi]

Chapter 3 - Call

Gojo Satoru x Female Reader

Tags: Friends with Benefits, Smut, Solo & Mutual Masturbation, Dirty Talk, Phone Sex 

Summary: With Gojo away on a mission, you decide to take the initiative by calling him for a little bit of fun.

A/N: ~

- - - 

Two months into your little arrangement with Gojo, you began noticing how certain aspects of your friendship started changing.

For one thing, Gojo could barely keep his hands off you. When you would sit next to each other, he would drape his arm lazily around your shoulder as if it belonged there. When having idle conversations with him talking about work or gossip, he would stare at you attentively while stroking your thigh. Most recently, while you were hanging out at his place, you were caught off guard when you felt him brush your hair away before delicately planting a kiss on your forehead.

At first you thought about telling him to stop, figuring his actions might be overstepping the boundaries you both set up. However, you changed your mind when you realised how nonchalant his behavior was. You figured his intentions were purely based on the fact that he could touch you in ways that he wasn’t allowed to before. Besides, Gojo was really good about ensuring not to make a serious move when the two of you decided to hang out instead of “drink” together.

You were surprised with how easily he switched from his fun, lovable self to the insatiable beast that would have you submit to his every word. Initially, you couldn’t bring yourself to make the first move around him, using a simple manipulation tactic of distraction that would ultimately force Gojo to take action.

Then the night at his apartment happened, where he had you flat across his kitchen counter while his tongue was working magic between your legs until you were unraveling in front of him over and over again. You were calling out his name in desperation, begging him to give you a break from the overstimulation but he refused. In the end, he left your body trembling from the final orgasm he gave you before lifting you up slowly and holding you close to him. He kissed your swollen lips, all before reaching for your hand and guiding it down to his pants.

“ Learn to use me like how I’m using you…” he whispered, “...stop holding yourself back. Otherwise, I won’t fuck you.”  

“I am using you,” you insisted with a pout, your hands motioning over his hardened member as you began rubbing him over his pants.  

A soft groan escaped him and he eloquently replied, “if you won’t even kiss me when you want to, then  you sure as hell won’t be comfortable with my dick inside you…”  

He was forcing your hand and your resistance was waning. He was becoming your favorite distraction, especially on the nights when you were feeling lonely.

Gojo was away on a mission and you had no idea when he would be back. He didn’t exactly live by a normal schedule but it’s been over a week since you last saw him and you really needed to relieve some of this sexual frustration that’s been running rampant in your mind.

You texted him while on your way home from work, asking him to call you if he was free later in the evening.

Once you arrived at your one-bedroom apartment, you gave yourself some much needed time for self-care. You cooked dinner then followed up with a long shower to relax from your own tiresome work week. After applying your face routine, you changed from your towel to a pretty light blue underwear set, opting for some luxury wear instead of your usual comfort clothes of sweatpants and an oversized tee.

You took a second to admire yourself before slipping on your silk robe. You haven’t felt this beautiful in your own skin in a while, and  while you would never admit it to Gojo, you found that being desired by him made you feel good.

You’ve been in a limbo of grey since breaking up with your ex, who spent the last six months of your relationship cheating on you before leaving you for the very same person he was fucking on the side. You gave him your heart and soul, allowing yourself to fall in love with him only to be shattered in the end. He left you picking up the pieces, to slowly glue yourself back together but managed to leave an irreparable wound in your heart.

Of course, you never told Gojo the real reason why you broke up when it happened. When the announcement came, it caught your friend totally off guard.

“ What do you mean it’s over? I was planning on ordering a custom suit for your wedding!”

Gojo had no clue that your boyfriend’s unfaithfulness left you with a sense of deep rooted shame.You weren’t used to keeping secrets from him but you did not want to show how weak you were. Three years of wondering what went wrong, of trying to puzzle together why you weren’t good enough for your ex, of stopping yourself from calling him when you were alone, of suffering from your own misery...

You made your way over to your bedroom, stepping over the mess of laundry on your floor that you were choosing to ignore and falling back onto your mattress. You reached for your device to check your notifications, hovering over the chat you had with Gojo before locking your screen and placing your phone by your side.

There was still no reply.

You were growing impatient and decided to take matters into your own hands until he responded.

You tangled your fingers around the belt of your robe, thinking about Gojo’s lips on yours. You weren’t shocked to learn that he was an exceptionally good kisser. The act itself was sinfully addictive and you realised that you could kiss him forever and never get bored.

When Gojo got naked in front of you for the first time, you were surprised to find that despite his tall and somewhat lanky frame, underneath all that clothing was a sculpted being. He had muscular legs which you loved grinding against, the broadest shoulders that you desperately clung on to for support as you reached your peak and a strong torso that your body easily melted into after you climaxed. The man was physically flawless and he knew it , which made it worse for you because he played on his attractiveness to get exactly what he wanted out of you.

You loosened the robe, spreading your legs and noticing the heat building from your lower abdomen as your mind raced at the thought of him. You brought your fingers to your folds, massaging them over the lace fabric but picturing his hands instead. You were thinking of the way he would purr in that low, sexy voice of his, praising you while you were down on your knees for him.

“Mmmm, that’s my girl…”

“You’re doing so fucking well, angel…”

“Keep going, baby, I’m almost there...”  

You loved that he used these pet names on you when you were intimate with him. Even more, it was the gratified reaction from his own lips as a result of your actions that sent a chill throughout your body. You couldn’t wait to finally feel him inside you and listen to the kind of filthy words he would spill while fucking you.

Your hand slipped underneath your underwear, two fingers deep in you pumping furiously while your other hand gripped onto the bedsheet. You allowed yourself to be as loud as you wanted, putting on a performance that Gojo would surely regret missing. Even if your neighbors heard you next door, they would not be able to tell that you were on your own climaxing yourself to a fiery orgasm.

“ God , I needed that…” you sighed, your eyes falling heavy as you slowly came down from your solo session.

Feeling significantly better, you stretched your arms overhead before glancing over at your phone and laying by your side. A little disappointed but not surprised that Gojo still hasn’t responded.

***

You sat up, dazed and unaware of when you fell asleep. You were surrounded by darkness except for the luminous glow that flashed from your phone. You glanced over your shoulders to find it ringing, squinting for a second to try and see who was calling you at this extremely late hour.

“Hello?” you finally answered, realizing that your throat was dry from your deep sleep.

Gojo sang your name on the receving line, his tone surprisingly energetic. “I got back to the hotel a little while ago and saw your text. Did I wake you?”

You checked the time before replying, “it’s three o’clock in the morning what do you think?”

“ I’m sorry, ” he cooed. “I can let you go back to sleep if you like...”

“No, it’s fine, I’m awake...” you replied, adjusting your position so you were sitting against the frame of your bed.  “Late night?”

“Yeah…”

“All okay?”

“Nothing to worry your pretty little head over...”  

You swallowed hard at his comment. Of course you were concerned for his safety but Gojo never revealed what he dealt with and sometimes you felt irrational for being scared about something you knew so little about.  Yes, he loved bragging about his victories against curses he deemed as weak but ones that posed an actual challenge to the sorcerer?

Those ones he refrained from talking about.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your lovely text?” Gojo asked, changing the subject upon hearing your silence.

“It’s been stressful at work this week. We have a new project coming up and our boss is up in arms about ensuring it all goes well, which means I’ve been working late most nights…” you paused before continuing your explanation, “I feel kind of silly complaining about it now but I just thought I would call for a fun chat. You know? Get my mind off some things?”

“What kind of fun are we talking about here?”

You smiled to yourself, “we never actually figured out how to grab drinks while you were away…”

“ Ahhhh …”  Gojo teased, a hint of amusement in his tone as he perked up at your words. “I should have known. You don’t usually ask me to call you while I’m gone. Not going to lie, you had me a little concerned...”

You blushed at the thought of him worrying about you, “I don’t want to keep you up though, it’s late anyway. You must be exhausted…”  

He cut you off with a chuckle, “...same rules still apply even if I’m away. If you just texted me with our usual message, I would have called with a much better hello. Let me guess, I already missed out on some of the fun ?”

“ Maybe… ” you seductively replied.

He clicked his tongue in disappointment, “that’s a shame…”

“I know and I’m wearing the lace set you like so much…” you added, coaxing him with your teasing words.

“Mmmm, I do love how you look in blue.” he stated. “Tell me, what exactly were you thinking of when you decided to have “fun” by yourself?”

“Before I answer that, I just need to know something…”

“What is it?”

“Do you have your blindfold on?”

“No…” Gojo replied, slightly confused.

You tapped the back of your phone lightly, “well, well...looks like I’ll just have to wait then...”

“Are you serious? I can’t even see you!”

“It doesn’t matter! If you won’t take it off when we are together then you have to wear it at all times...that’s what you said…”

You could feel Gojo rolling his eyes at you. “Fine, fine! Give me a minute…” he huffed.

You giggled to yourself, humming as you waited.

“ Smart ass,” he teased, letting you know that he was back on the line.

“Hey, I’m just playing by the rules!”

“And I’m ready to play with you ... ”

Before you knew it, Gojo had ordered you to get naked. You were tangled up in your sheets, your body writhing from his dirty talk as you masturbated. Gojo kept saying how much he missed being buried between your legs, how much he wanted to taste that sweet cunt and how desperate he was to fuck you.

“Mmm, you’re such a fucking tease, doing this to me while I’m away...you best believe that once I’m back I will fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk straight...”

You mewled in response, feeling yourself so close to your release that you could not speak.  

“ Say it, ” Gojo directed, knowing that he can barely hold on himself due to the sounds of your pleasure. “I want to hear you say it…”  

Gojo went silent, his breath growing heavier as he was losing himself to the moment. You could hear him pumping his cock, finally pushing himself to his own release. A moan escaped you, your back arching off the bed as you parted your lips to speak. Your voice pitched as you whimpered into the phone and telling Gojo the exact words he has been dying to hear.

"I want you to fuck me, Satoru..." you begged. "Please, fuck me ...”

- CHAPTER 4: DOMAIN - 

[wizkiddx]

I would for sure read a continuation of the birth photographer fic if you feel comfortable writing it/have time! Xx

a/n sorry I kinda combined these two together, I hope this is okay!! sorry ive taken so long too!! my requests are still open, just going a bit slowly :)

summary: literally just birth + harry

dad!tom x reader

warnings: childbirth, mentions of fainting, squint for suggestiveness too

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“Your doing so good darling, just keep breathin’ like that for me, in-out-in-out”

That had pretty much been the soundtrack to your last 3 hours. And yes it was MORE annoying than it sounds. Of course, that’s also ignoring the insane amount of pain your uterus was putting you through - as it spasmed while the little bug in there was wriggling away. Giving birth was not easy but giving birth with a husband-turned-midwife wittering away in your ear? Un-fucking-bearable. 

“Tom…. I love you but..” Everything had really been starting to ramp up in the last half an hour, you were a panting sweaty mess now. “Please… SHUT THE FUCK UP” Tom would’ve recoiled completely away from the bed because of your tone, if it wasn’t for the absolute death grip you had his right hand in. Instead,  Tom settled for straightening straight up and staring helplessly and dejectedly across the room at his brother - who of course was trying to hold back laughter, knowing it would be very easy for you to switch your target to him. 

Clearly it wasn’t a social call to the hospital, Harry was here under the premise of taking photos when the baby arrives for Tom;  but really to stop his brother from having his own breakdown - as commissioned by you. Lets just say, however scared and mortified Harry was of this ‘event’ he was taking a lot of enjoyment from how his brother was acting currently. 

“It’s okay sir, if you were pushing a watermelon out of hole that normally was the size of a whiteboard marker, I’m sure you’d be a bit tetchy too.” That lady was your favourite midwife and in a lull between the sets of contractions, you actually managed a laugh. Wide-eyed, Tom just nodded jerkily, murmuring some sort of agreement. It was at this point a flash of light reverberated around the whole room, causing you to breathlessly laugh, Harry’s face informing you the picture he just got of Tom was priceless. 

The laughter didn’t last long though, the next contraction had you bearing down on the bed, face contorted in pain as you sucked desperately on the gas and air tube. 

“Okay Y/n I think we might be getting there, let me call the senior midwifes in okay?” The midwife had your legs hiked apart, a blanket attempting to cover your modesty - but at this point she was basically sticking her face in your noon. Modesty was out the window. 

“Already?” Tom was shocked to say the least, from all his reading and research he’d learnt that the average labour time was more like 5 hours. Lets just say, Tom never exceled in school, never much enjoyed reading - which made the hours of highlighting baby books and pregnancy leaflets all the more extraordinary. 

“Babies don’t stick to the script sir.” You could tell she was proud of the pun there, because you know, Tom’s a moviestar. “Professional improvisers, the lot of them.” 

The cream walls of the hospital room very quickly filled with more and more people - Harry staying like a fly on the wall, now nervously biting his nails as he watched an obscene amount of medical people all take their turn oggling his sister-in-law’s bits. This was a weird ass situation. 

Almost immediately it was at the point the midwifes were telling you to push, which after 9 months of holding a baby in (as well as your ill functioning bladder) sounded like an absolute dream. But it was also absolutely terrifying and exciting and horrifying all wrapped in one. Naturally then, after nodding hesitantly at the midwife between your legs, you’d craned your neck across to tom .You might’ve just told him off, for trying to encourage you, but now? You needed his encouragement. 

What met you though, was his face completely drained of colour, mouth hanging slightly open as he hadn’t moved - still staring intently at the midwife. She followed your gaze, only taking half a second to survey the situation before knowingly smiling. 

“Can we get a bit of help for dad please?” Immediately one of the more junior looking midwives was directing (pushing) Tom into the chair next to the floor. Suddenly actually concerned, you looked with wide eyes to the lady between your legs, who you felt bad for not remembering her name. With a comforting squeeze of your ankle she reassured you he’d be right as rain after a few moments of having his head between his knees. Also sensing you needed your support, she arched up, beckoning over to Harry who had an equally bemused look on his face. 

“No - I-um I’m not.” His squeaking protests were interrupted by a large scream on your part, as another contraction tore through your body. Helplessly Harry glanced between Tom, who was still hunched over on a chair with a nurse squatted infront of him; and you, writhing around on the mechanical bed. He didn’t hesitate then, in jumping right to your side, allowing you to start crushing all the bones in his hand too. 

And then it was all happening, a blur of activity and screams. It didnt take long for Tom to pull himself together and then you were flanked on both sides by Holland boys - both giving cheesy encouraging words (which you would’ve again told them to shut the fuck up for, if you’d been able to), Tom also stroking the top of your head. He found it pretty impossible, watching the woman that he loved go through such immense pain - especially when he was technically half the cause. Well… actually more that that, it had been him who had been… well shall we say *needy* those nine months ago. 

“Okay Y/n the heads crowning, I know you’re tired but we need a few more big pushes, can you do that for me?” 

Merely 5 minutes later and the most beautiful sound in the world echoed through the 4 creams walls. You were absolutely spent, eyes closed as you panted, knowing tears were flooding down your face too. Immediately though, familiar hands cupped both sides of your face, a forehead resting on yours. 

“You did it Y/n/n.” His eyes were glassy, watering and red and the way he scoffed a smile in disbelief had you mirroring him exactly.

“We did it.” Your voice was hoarse and scratchy from all the yells of pain but it didnt matter. The midwife calling you by the name ‘mum and dad’ got both of your attention, a title you’d no doubt start getting used to. 

“Meet your beautiful baby girl.” Another choked sob escaped your throat, as  this little roughly wrapped up pink alien looking thing was placed onto your chest. Both you and Tom just gazed at her, completely transfixed at the way she wriggled her head slightly, nuzzling into your chest. Tom gently hovered his palm against her little head, while you pressed down the blanket gently, just so you could see all her features. 

Then a flash echoed around the otherwise silent room, making you all look up to Harry who was gritting his teeth in apology. “Do mum and dad want to smile for the camera?” The question was posed so hesitantly and quietly, really it wasn’t funny either. That didn’t stop you and Tom both pulling out the biggest grins and chuckling away, allowing Harry to capture the perfect moment. Being referred to as mum and dad - it was bloody comical. 

“You gonna tell me her name now?”  You looked from Harry to Tom, nodding in approval for him to spill the beans. 

“Amber. She’s Amber.”

You’d squabbled for months before ending on Amber. It had been a long relentless process, Tom claiming that your baby might just have ended up as ‘as yet untitled’ which you and your hormonal state had stormed out at. It hadn’t taken much to forgive it though, Tom had long since worked out that Ben and Jerrys was the way to your heart. 

The nurses took Amber back to do some tests, properly cleaning both you and her up and after that everything was weirdly calm. Harry had left to give the twothree of you a moment alone and Tom was about to do his turn of skin to skin. 

“This really is it isn’t it?” He murmured, whilst carefully scooping Amber from your arms. 

“Mhmmm… your stuck with two girls who’ll go psycho on you without a moments notice.” He seemed to accept it though, just nodding in response. 

“And I still can’t bloody wait.” His eyes penetrating deep into you, had you blushing like a nervous teenage girl. “ ‘m still so proud of you, you grew this little human.”

“Your not allowed to call her little because you didnt have the ‘little’ thing rip your insides apart.”

“Hey! I’m upset about it too! Was like I had to watch my favourite pub being burnt down.” Of course, trust Tom to make a dirty joke at a time like this.

“Don’t kid yourself, you weren’t watching, too busy fainting.”

“I didn’t actually faint!” This time he protested a bit too loudly, causing Amber to mewl a little and bury her head into the crook of her Dads arm. “I think Ambers just told you to shut it too.”

“You annoy the hell out of…” Your grumbling was interrupted by an impressive, ear-splitting yawn. “ You annoy the hell out of me.”

“But you love me?” He sing-songed, now back to a hushed tone. 

“I hope so, otherwise we’re in a bit of trouble.” He scoffed, but nodded his head, taking the hand that wasn’t cradling Amber to tuck some sweaty, knotted strands of hair behind your ear. 

“I do owe Harry though, he was at least able to stay on his feet.”

“He was a better birthing partner than you too, much much less condescending and annoying.” You sniggered, making Tom pout once again, only wiping the look off his face when you yawned again, rubbing an your eye like a toddler would. 

“If your done insulting me… get some rest love, I got you.” All you did was nod, with a small groan (because below your waist still hurt like a bitch) rolled over so you could fall asleep to sight of the two of them. 

“Got you both, my two beautiful girls.”

hope you enjoyed, would love to hear any thoughts <3

taglist: @hollandfanficlove @hallecarey1

[ekaterinatepes]

Nothing but the Best

WARNING: nsfw (oral m and f receiving)

MINORS DNI

XIII.

(Part 2/3)

He stood up and set you on the table, standing between your legs Satoru moved his hands over your body, he opened your jacket thankful you were so thoughtful as to have places heaters on every corner of the gazebo so you wouldn’t freeze. With a smirk he pulled back “I am ready for desert” a mischievous glint in his cerulean eyes told you he wasn’t referring to the food. You moaned in answer while your hands also started taking off his clothes until he was left only in his pants and you completely naked before his predatory gaze. “Toru…” you moan against his lip when his index finger moved between your thighs to collect the wetness already pooling in between. “Mmm… better not let this go to waste..” he whispered before he knelt in front of you. Sucking his wet fingers before his mouth attached to your leaking entrance making you scream. You were so ready for him that the slightest stimulation had you tethering over the edge. “SATORU!” Screaming his name you placed a hand on top of his head caressing the his platinum strands while he ate you. He moaned sinking his tongue as deep as it could go within your womanhood. “Oh fuck!” You cursed when he added two fingers inside, pumping them slowly, making a come here motion at the same time he licked and swallowed everything you had to offer “come for me princess…”, “come for daddy…. I want my desert now” his husky and demanding tone sent an electric current down your spine making you tense right before you released in his mouth. Satoru groaned in delight sucking and slurping your juices “good girl” he praised you in between kisses until you were completely clean “I love desert” with a big smile he placed himself between your legs making you chuckle “well… I will have you know, I like my own desert too…” with a grin you switch places. Kneeling between Satoru’s legs you stroke the hard bulge under the tight fabric of his trousers. He moans at the stimulation letting you do as you pleased with him. Unzipping his pants you pull them down along with his boxes. His cock springs free hitting your face, Satoru groans louder at the sight. “You look so fucking beautiful right now” he praises you. Licking his member from the base to the tip you finally wrap your lips around the swollen pink head and suck hard. Bobbing your head you start a steady rhythm. Satoru’s sounds of pleasure encouraging you to take him deeper and faster until he is fucking your face, bucking his hips but avoiding pushing your head. “I’m gonna come baby… I’m gonna come” he moans desperately. To which you respond by deep throating him, inviting him to come down your throat. “oh Fuck! Y/N!” He came hard, a spray of warm cum shot down your throat. “Take it all princess! Take all of daddy’s cum down hour throat! That’s a good girl” Satoru encouraged you. Pulling your mouth back you suck at the tip of his sensitive member, making sure that you swallowed it all. “Oh fuck! Y/N! You are so fucking hot! My sexy and hot wife” a stupid smirk spreads across his lips making you chuckle when you stand up again. He pulls you in for a deep kiss “I love you princess” he says before grabbing a blanket from the small ottoman in the corner “you came prepared!” He observed chuckling, making you blush. Yeah, you were married for almost 4 years and that moron still managed to make you blush like a virgin. “Well it’s winter, I wasn’t sure the heaters would cut it.” He pulled you in his arms, kissing you once more while he accommodates cushions and a mat on the floor to then have you sitting on his lap. Serving each of you a glass of champagne you kissed and spent the night there in each other’s embrace. ~~~ End Flash Back~~~

On the other side of the world a sorcerer opened his blue eyes after a dream. The best dream he’s had since you left. It felt… so real; he dreaded the moment he woke up. He could feel you in his arms, taste you on his tongue. But it all had been just a beautiful dream, a memory from past times when you both were happy.

Sighing he sat upon his bed, alone again. Not that he wanted any of his one night stands soiling the sanctity of his home. Satoru never took them back home, it was always some hotel or their place. NEVER your bed, the one you both shared for the happiest years of his life. He had even bought your perfume ‘Ballet Rose’ by Philosophy to spray it on the bed and sleep surrounded by your familiar and comforting scent.

The dream was a memory of his last birthday, the one he spent with you. Making love and eating sweet things until the break of dawn. Closing his hand tightly in a fist he swallow hard. He missed you so badly, lately it felt… debilitating. How pathetic! The strongest jujutsu sorcerer reduced to a ghost of himself since you kicked him out of your life.

He had to do something. Even if he didn’t get to talk to you, he just wanted to see you one more time. Make sure you are alright, that you are happy…. Safe.

He grabbed his phone and looked for the phone number of the Chair Woman for the American School of Ballet. “Yes, good evening Mrs. Mazzo I am aware it is late where you are but I have a question for you. Is there any upcoming shows where Miss Petrova is performing?” He asked remembering you were a student still under a false name. The woman on the other side of the line sighed and sleepily answered you would be performing for 2 shows of The Nutcracker for the NYC Ballet Fall Gala at the David H. Koch Theater in three days time. “While you are at it I will need a ticket for the best seat on the right balcony. Private access, don’t care about the price just make it happen” the woman agreed and then hang up.

Satoru’s plane landed at night time in New York City and just like the last time he had s limousine waiting for him to take him to his suite at The Plaza. It felt it had been a lifetime ago when he last saw you in this very city.

He wanted to go find you but he swore to himself he would refrain from doing something stupid. He was here to see you in secret, without bothering you. He promised to himself he would respect your wishes and wouldn’t intrude your space.

He prepared himself for the Gala, wearing a black Armani suite, choosing to wear his dark Versace round sunglasses to match his style. Giving himself a good look in the mirror he smirked, well… at least he still got it. He was handsome and looked literally like a million bucks.

With a little boost to his confidence he left the suite and went to the theater where he would watch you perform that evening. As he walked towards the entrance to the main hall he saw your picture on a two gigantic banners, the advertisement for tonight’s show with your beautiful face, smiling and your body on a ‘grand battement’ pose wearing a beautiful cream colored tutu with golden roses carefully sown, your shoulders naked and the deep v cut of the corset showing off slightly your beautiful breasts, you were perfect… an angel. His heart stopped for a second. You were… absolutely gorgeous. He noticed on the picture that you had returned your hair to your favorite tone and your eyes shone brightly accentuated by an alluring cat eye make up that complimented your features, the image was enchanting. Truly a vision.

——-> Chapter 13 / Part 3

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