#it’s fine it’s all fine I’m just so fucking tired and close to a meltdown and don’t want to shop on Christmas Eve in the middle of the day

[milo-is-rambling]

Guy who hates doing shit by other people’s schedules and guy who wants to smoke weed and cigarettes in his car vs having to take his asthmatic 80 year old grandmother Christmas shopping on Christmas Eve in his car

[offbrandkyoya]

92 Fight Club

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Diluc ran and ran to the train station.

When he arrives, the train leaves and Thoma was no where to be found. “Fuck..” He mutters, clearly defeated. He wasted so much time and now, he’ll never see him again.

Diluc turns back around but freezes when Thoma stands right in front of him. He notices he’s holding a brown lunch bag. “Thoma, y-you’re still here. I thought you left already?” The blonde blushes, “Uh, no, I got hungry and the line was kind of long…so…” “Oh okay.”

There was silence. Diluc gulps before speaking, “I wanted to talk to you.” “About?” “A…About us…” Thomas eyes widen, “Us?” The redhead nods. “Y-Yeah. I…I want to say I’m sorry. For literally everything…” He sighs, “Thoma, it was wrong for me to break up with you. I did that because I thought it’d be better for you. I should’ve talked to you about it but instead I just let you go. I really don’t deserve you at all. You never once complained about our relationship and it was all me. I thought I was doing the right thing but instead I let us down. I’m sorry.”

Thoma clutches his bag, thinking of a response. Dilucs face turned red as he’s a bit nervous about his reaction. Thoma looks the side, “I appreciate your apology but I don’t want us to get back together again.” Dilucs shocked by this. Surely, he thought Thoma would give him a chance because it’s Thoma. The kindest guy you’d ever meet.

“Why?” “Because…I don’t think..” Thoma closes his eyes tightly. “I don’t think I’m ready to be with you again. I’m sorry.” Thoma looks at him in pity. “I still like you but I’m not ready. Not yet.” “Then I’ll wait.” Diluc replies immediately, shocking Thoma a little. “Y-You will?” “Uh huh. I’ll wait as long as it takes but please, don’t fall for anyone else. I won’t fall for anyone either because you’re the one for me.”

Thoma blinks then bursts out laughing. Diluc jumps a little. “What a selfish thing to say. That’s so not you!” He calms down a little then smiles at him. “Okay, I won’t. Promise.” Diluc smiles too. “Can we at least be friends?” Thoma nods. “I’d like that.” Diluc smiles more. “Cool. Nothing like befriending your crush.” “Very cliche.”

The train arrives and Thoma begins to walk to it. “Well, see ya-“ “Uh, wait!” Diluc grabs his sleeve. He blushes a bit. “Let me walk you home?” Thoma giggles, “Okay but we’re going on the train first.” “Y-You know what I mean!” So the two men climb aboard. Another love story solved.

“I suddenly feel happy.” You say after you’ve put away your painting. “Freak.” Scaramouche comments and you punch his stomach. He groans as you puff up your cheeks. “Yn.” You straighten yourself up upon hearing that voice. Standing right in front of you are your parents. “Mom, dad, you’re here…” “We heard that you won.” “Oh right.” ‘Of course that’s all they care about.’

Your mother scans the room. “Where is it?” “Where’s what?” “Your painting.” Your father answers. “Oh, I put it away because I’m heading home. I had a tiring day.” You say sincerely. Scaramouche stands behind you, watching you converse with your parents. “I see.” Your mother shrugs, “Fine, I guess. We’ve seen it roam around the internet anyways.”

“To think you actually got somewhere with that.” Your dad chuckles and you look down a little. “Now that that’s out of your hair, you can go back to focusing on your studies.” “But-“ “No buts Yn.” Your mother lifts a finger. “You’ve disappointed us enough. Don’t try to continue to rebel.” You feel tears well up but you see Scaramouche’s arm wrap around your body.

“Yn can do whatever they want.” He says and your parents eye him. “Who’s this?” “Their boyfriend.” He states matter a factly. “Oh, I know him.” Your dad nods. “Yes, he’s the one who was abandoned by his mother a child.” “Oh that’s right! He’s the same one who had that crazy meltdown in public.” Your mom shakes her head. “Music doesn’t get you anymore.” Scaramouche growls but your hand rests on top of his.

“Don’t talk about him like that.” You say with an angry expression. “I don’t like that you’re talking crap about my boyfriend right in front of me! Also, I don’t give a shit if you’re disappointed by the fact I’m still doing art! I won because I’m good at what I do! You don’t support me at all and honestly, I don’t care.” You clench your fists. “Fuck you. My friends and Scaramouche are all I need.”

Your parents look at you wide eyed. You grab Scaramouche’s hand and stomp off to the front door. “Woah Yn, slow down.” He says once you’ve made it far enough. You guys stop and you frown. “Sorry…” “Hey,” He kisses your cheek and his hand rests on your cheek. “That was pretty cool that you stood up to them.” You smile weakly. “Thanks. I’m really sorry about what they said about you.” “It’s fine.”

He kisses you again. “Guess they won’t be seeing their grandkids.” You blush heavily. “S-Scara! Please stop mentioning that!” He laughs and kisses you again while you whine. “Before we leave, I’m going to use the bathroom real quick, okay?” “Okay.” You share a kiss before he turns back to use the restroom.

You place your arms behind your back with a hum. A few minutes passed, people leaving and entering. You decided to lean against the wall so you wouldn’t be in peoples way. As you wait, you noticed something odd. This girl keeps coming back and leaving. At first you thought she might’ve forgot something but she did it quite often.

She’s leaving again and you decide to confront her. “Excuse me, do you need anything?” She smirks a little, stopping in her tracks. “Why yes! Are you Yn?” “Um, yes?” Her smirk reminds you of the Cheshire Cat and because of this, you’re a bit skeptical at what she wants.

“Is something the matter?” “Oh nothing, nothing!” She giggled weirdly. “Then why are you coming back all the time? Are you looking for something?” “I was looking for you.” She says and you feel grossed out.

“How come?” She shrugs with a hum. “To congratulate you on your win. I really didn’t think you’d pull it off.” You tilt your head. This girl wasn’t competing so you wondered. “I like Scaramouche.” She says and it clicks. “Oh you’re a fan.” You say boringly. “Yes, I am! I’m also a HUGE Diluc fan!” “That���s cool.” You sigh and look the other way to see if your boyfriend is finished.

“Yn,” You didn’t even bother to look at her. “You don’t give up.” “No, I don’t.” “Even after having your painting ruined. Such a shame.” Slowly, you turn your head towards her, your mind buzzing. “How do you know that?” She stares at you with a sinister smile. “Because I did that.” Rage boils up inside you.

“You know what else? I even sent you about Thoma.” You let out a gasp. That was so long ago that you completely forgot that the only reason you knew about the drama was because someone sent it to you. That someone was the same girl who ruined your picture. “Why-“ “Because we don’t like you.” “We?” “Everyone. You’re a bug, Yn. Getting in the way of your friends. Were they really being abused? Or were you just trying to blame on someone innocent. Your existence caused the boys to suffer. You should be ashamed.”

You grit your teeth and grab her shoulder. She screams and slaps your face. “They’re attacking me!” She shouts. Instantly, you slap her back. Not only that, you grab her hair as well and tug it hard. She yelps in pain and grabs hold of your arms.

Everyone circles around you two, watching instead of helping. You didn’t care at all. You kick her stomach, making her fall in the floor. You get on top of her and punch her. “How could you?! I worked long and hard on that painting but because of your hatred for me, you RUIN it?!” “It’s what you deserve! You’re a complete, utter, WHORE!” You punch her again and she punches you back.

The fight didn’t last as you were pulled away by force. “What’re you doing?!” Scaramouche looks at you crazy, grabbing your arms back to prevent you from escaping. Seeing him made you come to your senses. “Scara, she ruined my painting!” The girl stands up with a huff.

“You deserved it! Someone like you doesn’t deserve this win!” You growl but Scaramouche moves you behind him. He lets go and walks to the girl. “Scara-“ He slaps the girls face. “Leave them alone or I’ll kill you.” Scaramouche glares. She scoffs, “Is this how you treat your fans?!” “You’re no fan of mine. You’re a virgin loser who’s insecure about their love life. Me and my friends will never give you the satisfaction of dumping Yn for the likes of you.”

She stares at him wide eyed and looks at the people staring and whispering. Scaramouche shoved her, tripping on her own feet, she falls. “Get the hell away from me or I’ll chase you away if I have to.” He takes a step forward and she struggles to get up and when she does, she runs off.

Scaramouche lets out a sigh and turns to you. “You need to learn how to defend yourself. You’re all bruised up.” He walks to you and observes your features. “Use your arms to block your face or have fast reflexes to block.” You blink then begin to laugh. “You’re so weird, Scara.” “Wha-“ You grab his face and kiss him, startling him a little.

You pull away and hug him. “I love you.” Scaramouche couldn’t help but feel confused but he smiles and hugs you back. “I love you too.”

- did you guys see that the boy and the heron won an OSCAR?????????

- unfortunately i never watched the movie but i love ghibli and am super happy for Miyazaki! :3

🏷️ @sakiimeo @coquettemaiden @rmiyuki @kur44pika @theblueblub @jxxji0309 @dreamsofminnie @ohmyfinggod @redactedhimbo @kunisbeloved @akagism2 @sketcheeee @thefandomcrow @beriiov @thenightsflower @yukiipc @scaraapologist @scarletttcroww @samyayaya @crucnhice @monaypo1 @feiherp @myaaones @warcelia @hangecanweholdhands @yuminako @valiryyz @screechingxiaolover @tiddieshakeshownu @ilovechuuyaa @d4y-dr3am3r @dazaisfavgf @swivy123 @ganyusbrideee @sagegreenthinks @the-left-glove @wonderland-fan @kylexzz @kaoyamamegami @whycantscarabereal @rvoulte @eunchaeluvr @lxkeeeee @silvermah @baby-bread-in @yelleloww @magica-ren @itzblazekun @im-inlovewithy0u @featuredtofu @anastaxiah @ask-aph-tanzania @drmyday @what-just-happened-huh @xtobefreex @v4lerixxq @duckyyyx @hannoahs-third-eyelash @brain-r0tt @iota1111 @accio-fandom @kaitfae @tikitsune @salmonieea

[willyismybicycle]

Title: stay with my tonight, I'll be your alibi (Part 7 of the earth, the sky, the sea) >> AO3 Link Rating: Explicit Pairing: Auston Matthews/William Nylander, William Nylander/Kyle Dubas Tags: POV Alternating,complicated relationships, Willy dealing some angst

Summary:

They play Pittsburgh - they play Kyle Dubas. Willy deals with the aftermath of feeling like he's being forgotten.

They haven’t talked. 

There’s a lot of things that they should probably talk about, like does Auston want all the sweaters he keeps leaving here? But then he thinks about Auston meticulously packing up his stuff around the apartment and he drops that thought immediately. 

It’s stupid. He’s the one that walked away, but he slips on one of those sweaters now, tucks his nose into the collar. 

He cleans his apartment. He can’t bring himself to pack anything of Auston’s away, but he can at least turn the photographs so it doesn’t feel like Auston’s watching him have his pathetic post-breakup meltdown. Or whatever. 

He hasn’t had to do this before. Before Auston, there was Kyle and despite their back and forth, that relationship just came to a natural end. And then Kyle left. 

Will wasn’t — isn’t — the type of person who can do long distance for the majority of the year. He needs to be touched and held and told he’s loved face to face. 

He misses Auston so much already it aches but he knows it was for the best. 

═══

Auston doesn’t know what he’s supposed to think, or say, or do. He’s just been staring at the last messages between him and Will.

It was all so normal. 

═══

Will tries not to react when Mitch turns away before he’s even done speaking. Fine. Fuck you, too. 

He settles himself — that’s now what he thinks about Mitch. He just doesn’t like what this is doing to him. Doesn’t like that it makes him bitter and unfocused, doesn’t like that it makes him love the game less. 

Doesn’t like that it makes him want to fucking himself headfirst into the incoming traffic of his emotions.

Don’t do it. Don’t do it.

He does it anyway. 

“Willy?” 

“Hey. Do you wanna meet me in an hour?”

═══

The air in his lungs just vanishes. Not exhaled, not stolen in some romantic manner. Just gone. 

He tries not to feel anything. At all. 

He fails. 

“Hi Willy,” Kyle says, his voice soft and soothing. 

“Hey,” he responds, stepping back so Kyle can enter. 

“I was surprised to see you call.”

“Uh, yeah, I’m —” What was he? Sad? It seems more complicated than that. “I just — wanted to see if you were okay.”

“Of course. Always am.” Kyle gives him a small smile — but it’s tired. So fucking tired. 

Willy feels for him, really, because he knows it’s not okay. It never is. “You don’t have to lie to me,” he says. It comes out softer than intended. It sounds too much like he cares. 

And he does. He wants Kyle to be happy, he wants Kyle to have everything that Kyle deserves and has worked for. 

He wants Kyle to win. Just not tonight, and somehow, that makes him feel guilty. It shouldn't, but it does. 

Kyle shrugs. “It’s the game. You know how it is.”

That’s as close to I’m not okay as Kyle will ever get, he supposes. Pablo shoves his face between Will’s legs to look up at Kyle.

“Yeah, but —” he pauses as he watches Kyle take his jacket off. Kyle looks good. “But it still… sucks.”

Yeah, he’s super articulate tonight. 

Banksy pushes past both of them to try and jump on Kyle. He should probably stop that, but Kyle’s smiling down and cooing Banky’s name and Will’s going to lose his whole ass mind. 

“Drink?” He offers instead, trying not to tune his hearing into every step and every breath Kyle takes. 

“Just water‘s fine.”

It feels a lot like their last conversation. 

“How is everything?” Kyle asks, and well, isn’t that a loaded fucking question. 

“Fine,” he says, even though it’s so far from the truth. 

And of course Kyle knows. Neither of them let go of the bottle as Will goes to hand it over. His fingertips are cold from the water, but Kyle’s hand feels like a bonfire, warm and enticing.

“Willy.” 

He lets go. Kyle lets go. 

The water bottle drops with a dull thud. And then Kyle’s holding him. 

His first inhale feels like he’s underwater, and he chokes it back out, all the anger and sadness inside of him just pouring out of him. 

“I’ve got you, baby, I’ve got you.” 

And he does. Kyle does have him, arms strong and unmoving around Will’s heaving shoulders. 

“It’s okay, it’ll be okay,” Kyle continues. “Just let it out.” 

So he does. 

═══

“Do you want…”

“Yes,” Will responds, cutting off the rest of the sentence. 

“Are you sure, baby? I mean — Auston?”

He huffs at the name. “Fuck Auston,” he says bitterly, trying to pretend like he isn’t wearing one of Auston’s shirts right now.  

Kyle’s eyebrow arches, but he doesn’t push. He doesn’t make Will feel stupid about it, he just pushes closer and closer until the two of them are tumbling onto the couch. 

“Please, Kyle, I —”

“Gotta get outta your head. I know, baby.” 

“Just — please.” His eyes burn with the embarrassment of it all — of breaking down in front of his ex, who he’s supposed to show that everything’s fine. But instead he’s almost hyperventilating as he asks for some form of salvation. 

═══

He forgets about Auston, for a second. He forgets everything, really. 

His own name. Where he is. What he’s doing. 

Kyle blows him so good he nearly blacks out. Then he fucks Will’s face like he’s not about to be one of the highest paid players in the league. 

Kyle fucks him like he’s nothing, because he asks for it and wants it — because he feels like it. 

Kyle fucks him until he cries. He doesn’t safe word. Kyle stops anyway.  

He tells Kyle it’s best he doesn’t stay the night. Kyle stays anyway. 

There’s a text from Auston when they go to sleep — miss you — but Kyle’s arms are warm and Kyle’s heart beats steady against Will’s back. 

Kyle’s here. 

So fuck Auston and his stupid text. 

Look at me, I’m fine without you.

[hannie-dul-set]

DON’T THINK, JUST DO — na jaemin.

SUMMARY. an overthinker, a piece of advice, a sudden confession, and a subtle meltdown.

PAIRING. na jaemin x g.n. reader GENRE. high school! au, f2l, fluff, humor WARNINGS. swearing WORD COUNT. 1.6k TAGLIST. @danishmiilk​ @wownajaemin​ @leejunini​ @astroboy-lele​ @unknown5tar​ @yunoyeol​ @w0nni3wrld​ @charm-art​ @bat-shark-repellant​ @nct-writers​ @czennienet​ @neowritingsnet​ @kpopscape​

NOTE. surprise LMAO take this quick fic that i wrote in a couple of hours after a bathroom apology for being mia this past week, for not keeping my promises, and for my further disappearance within the next few days/weeks because i am, quite frankly, about to mcfreaking die <3 enjoy.

Self study period. Eight in the morning. Everything was normal— seemingly normal— save for the empty spot beside you where your deskmate should be occupying, perhaps pestering you yet again about the importance of eating breakfast if he were here, but he wasn’t. It was odd.

He’s never been late before.

Saying that makes it sound like you were closely knitted with Na Jaemin, the present absentee and your deskmate for about three years, but you couldn’t admit that you were. You couldn’t admit that you weren’t, either. Still, even if you weren’t as bro with him like his members in the school’s dance team, or as involved in his personal troubles as his childhood best friend, but at least you’ve seen the kind of lunch he brings to school every single day for three straight years. That was probably enough to form some sort of bond— though trivial, maybe even feeble, but it was enough.

That was also enough for you to develop an unsurprising crush on him. Your self-awareness was annoying enough to throw away any ounce of denial.

Which was also why you were worrying over your head when he missed the first period, even more so when he arrived like a disheveled zombie midway through the second.

“Na Jaemin,” you greeted his tardy arrival with your eyebrows creasing in worry. He greeted you with a usual good morning and his usual smile— or so he attempted to. But that smile lasted for approximately 0.813 seconds before he fell onto his seat with a contorted groan. “What’s wrong? Are you sick? Did you practice too hard yesterday? Gosh, you should know better than to overdo it.”

Jaemin only whined when you reached out to pitifully caress his hair, his gaunt face and evident dark circles down buried in his arms. “I’m so tired.”

Dear lord, what happened to the model student that seemed to shine day in, day out despite his overly packed and strenuous schedule? You frowned, telling him that he should just sleep through the rest of the morning and you’d cover for him, but he rose from his slumped over position and waved you off. 

“I can manage,” he gave you a tired smile. “I already missed a lot by being late.”

“You idiot, are you trying to die?” you huffed, snapping your attention off of him in annoyance. “Wait a minute, why does he look fine? Tsk. Lee Donghyuck were you slacking off while your team members were dancing to death?”

The man in question flinched, dropping his phone with a painful noise onto the table when you turned around and smacked a notebook onto his desk.

“Oi, what the fuck? What would you know when you weren’t even there?”

“Then why do you still look fresh while poor, tired Jaemin over here is—”

“It’s not that.”

You turned back around to the worn out voice beside you.

“I just didn’t get any sleep last night.”

To your surprise, Jaemin was the one who came to Donghyuck’s aid.

Donghyuck’s glare was enough to drill two gaping holes into your skill, and you simply bowed and gave him a sheepish grin in apology before switching your attention lanes back to Jaemin. Not the most embarrassing thing you’d ever done, but shameful all the same. “Then why didn’t you say so— anyway, that’s not the point. Did you stay up playing games again? Gosh, did Lee Jeno force you to rank with him? I swear, you guys should—”

“It’s kinda nice to see you worrying about me,” he chuckled, falling back down into his desk with his arms crossed and looking up at you with an invisible, fond grin. “But it’s not that either.”

Damn your stomach for suddenly deciding to stumble over at that insignificant gesture of his. He wasn’t even doing anything, but look at you. All of a sudden, guilt decided to gnaw at your conscience because while Na Jaemin was barely holding onto his consciousness, you were busy fawning over his charms despite the fatigue. You didn’t deserve to sit next to him.

“I was thinking.”

Your thoughts froze.

“About?”

“Things.”

“Like…?”

“Whether I should do this or not, whether I should just give up or not, whether I’m actually stupid or not...” Jaemin sighed, eyes closed in contemplation, or perhaps finally in drowsiness. You hoped that he’d just give in and sleep. “...those things.”

What could he have possibly been thinking about that the poor boy couldn’t even sleep? Whatever it was— cure that entirely. This was a crime. Maybe you shouldn’t confiscate his thermos of coffee later.

“Aish,” you raked your fingers through your hair, expelling an exasperated sigh. “Na Jaemin, as a professional overthinker, let me give you some professional advice—”

He perked up, eye now a little wider and looking at you in a swirl of interest and attentiveness.

“—don’t.”

And now confusion was thrown into the mix.

“You see, it’s an endless, torturous cycle with the only endgame being regret. You believe that you’re only gonna mull it over for a mere moment, weigh your pros and cons, and come up with a decision after a few minutes of thinking—” you breathed it sharply, shaking your head in faux dismay. “—but the ‘what if’s’ come around and before you know it, it’s already five in the fucking morning and you have to go to school in a few hours looking like a contaminated corpse.”

Jaemin blinked his sunken eyes at you. He wasn’t sure what to say, but somehow your speech full of vigor, confidence, and a ridiculous form of charisma drew out all the exhaustion from his veins. He buried his face back into his arms to avoid looking at you.

“Right?”

He pressed his lips together to prevent a smile from forming too wide, but you wouldn’t be able to see, anyway. “Right, you’re right,” but maybe you could hear it in the tone of his muffled voice.

You grinned, proudly nodding to yourself at his affirmation. “Which is why, before you end up following me into this hidden circle of hell— you should just stop. Don’t think. Fuck impulse control. There’s no time to regret when you’ve already done it. It’s not easy. Absolutely not. But it’s better to just get it over with and deal with the consequences after rather than living in an endless loop. So repeat after me— don’t think.”

Slowly, Jaemin peeked out from his huddled position, sitting up straight and looking right at you.

“Don’t think.”

“Just do.”

“Just do.”

“Perfect! You got it,” you beamed. “Don’t think, just do, okay? I believe in you, Jaemin.”

The advice that was haphazardly spilling from your lips was seemingly a bit crooked in nature— arguably so— but he seemed to be genuinely considering it. Jaemin was silent for a moment, blanking out at the rows in front of the both of you before he softly spoke up, eyebrows scrunched together, his head cocking to the side.

“Should I...?”

“Yeah, definitely! You don’t have anything to lose if you do it, right?” he spared another moment of consideration, and you kept going. “...whatever it is— but that doesn’t matter, just do it. If you do, you wouldn’t lose another night of sleep because of it.”

Self study period went on as is, but luckily you two weren’t the only ones not studying. You left him alone to rest and think about it more while you scribbled down answers for an assignment that was due later— highly contradictory to your suggestion of not thinking, but all was released when you heard Jaemin drop his pen to the table, followed after by a long, deep sigh.

“Alright.”

A bright smile overtook you as you busied yourself with the assignment.

“I like you.”

That smile disappeared with a loud and violent cough.

Oh, what the fuck.

“You told me to just do it, so there, I just did it. I like you,” he yawned as he melted into his books, peering over to look at the utter shock and disbelief in your frozen expression. Jaemin had to hold back a laugh. “You don’t have to follow your own advice— take as much time as you need— but I don’t want you losing sleep over me just as I did over you.”

With that, he decided that this was the best fucking time to finally disappear into sleep. You wanted to scream— the feeling of your throat twisting over itself with the indignant desire to squeeze out something, but there was sharp heat at every breath that prevented you from doing so.

You settled for two words only.

“Holy fuck.”

“Thank you for that quick and eloquent response,” Jaemin flipped over, looking at you with tired eyes and an equally tired smile, but despite all that he was still lively. “At least it wasn’t a blatant rejection.”

You thought that you wouldn’t have to make eye contact with him when his bangs were messily covering his eyes, but your regret came late when you caught the subtle quirk of the corners of his lips when you looked down at him in your daze. “W—wait, who said anything about rejecting you? How dare you drop that bomb onto me when I’m unprepared? I’m never giving you advice ever again.”

Self study period over. Nine in the morning. The bell rang and before your deskmate of three years, your crush of a little less than that could slip back into the slumber that he’d missed because of you, he managed to speak in a soft voice.

“Take your time.”

© hannie-dul-set, 2021.

[whentherewerebicycles]

ugh we had a rough start to the morning… one of our new neighbors has a huge dog that really freaks ruthie out. it seems to be a really nice, placid dog but ruthie is super leash reactive, especially at close distances, and the woman who owns the big dog seems to be really interested in pushing all of my dog’s buttons at every possible opportunity lol. I know I’m projecting onto her but it is driving me nuts. she knows my (very small toy breed) dog is reactive yet whenever she sees us, instead of giving me a minute to get ruthie out of the way she’ll walk her dog very briskly directly at us in a way that unfailingly triggers all of ruthie’s panic meltdown instincts, and when I’ve finally managed to wrestle ruthie out of sight, she’ll IMMEDIATELY follow us at a close distance as if to make a point that she’s not going to alter HER walk plans at all to accommodate my feral demon child. and I’m meanwhile saying things like “oh my god I’m so sorry, she’s leash reactive, just give me a minute” as I try to haul ruthie to a safe enough distance that she can calm down, and the neighbor doesn’t say anything just gives me this judgy as hell look like she thinks I’m the worst dog parent she’s ever seen (and then of course she doesn’t give us a minute she just follows directly on our heels, further confirming ruthie’s panicked sense that THIS DOG IS HUNTING ME IT COULD EAT ME IN ONE BITE HELP HELP). anyway I usually try to actively take a diff route or scan the horizon for this woman so I can ~manage the environment~ and keep ruthie far enough from the stimulus to avoid triggering the meltdown reaction, but today the woman (who MUST have seen us passing based on the way our units are laid out, like there’s NO WAY this encounter was a surprise to her) came abruptly around a corner so ruthie was literally face to face with her big dog with zero warning. aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa okay it’s fine it’s stressful for me but I know most people just don’t get it… like before I got ruthie I thought pip’s easygoing nature with other dogs was like, the Default Dog Setting, and now I understand that no it’s just because I took him a ton of public places when he was a puppy and he met lots of dogs of all sizes. whereas ruthie was clearly a pandemic puppy who spent most of her time at home and had few Public Experiences.

anyway sigh we continue to work on it. but man okay the last 15 or so hours have been kinda rough lol… my favorite player (who has a history of Very Very Bad Life-Altering Concussions) got deliberately elbowed in the head to take him out of the game last night & prob has a concussion… many sports fans are garbage humans who are outright gleeful about seeing a person already at high risk of CTE receive another brain injury… the league almost certainly won’t do anything about it to the player who elbowed him in the head which fucking sucks… and THEN unrelatedly I keep having this series of extraordinarily realistic nightmares about aliens who take over or invade the bodies of human women and then destroy the woman by shucking her consciousness from her body and consuming it, leaving her an empty husk body (clearly my subconscious is hard at work processing The World)… also I read this poem about war crimes against women in the atlantic yesterday and it has fucking haunted me since I can’t stop thinking about it/about war crimes in general/about the vulnerability of women’s bodies… also I think that getting upset about sports last night unlocked the inner compartment where I have been aggressively repressing all of my roe v wade + Ukraine mass rape grief and rage and now I’m just swimming in that toxic sludge… also I’m just tired from bad sleep and not in a great headspace today friends.

sigh. okay. I’m going to drink coffee and lounge in bed till 9:30, then I’ll get up and shower and get ready for these student meetings. here’s the day:

9:30-10:30 shower, breakfast, emails

10:30-11 SO mtg

11-1:30 write scenes (my goal is three today but also I’m going to be gentle with myself today I’m feeling destabilized by the world)

1:30-2 AZ mtg

2-2:30 see if ML will switch to this time

2:30-3 ML mtg

3-5 write some more

evening: walk the dogs for an hour, do a bit more writing, or just do whatever. try not to doomscroll it won’t make you feel better

[sleepyseguin]

tyler seguin | i still see your face (nsfw)

summary: you and tyler break up. it’s harder than you thought it would be. 

a/n: highly recommend listening to driver’s licence by olivia rodrigo to get the whole vibe. my spotify must think i have a problem by the constant repeat. 

It’s not like you haven’t had a break up before. It’s just that this one feels different. Raw. A ragged edge that’s been torn. You drink too much beer and sleep too little. Your friends rally around you, of course they do, drag you to clubs with too many teenagers, tell you they never liked Tyler anyway. But the lie is thin, and in the dim bathroom of the bar one says, but why did you guys break up? What happened? You blink at her, mouth tasting of tequila. I don’t know.

-/-

Of course you know. You’re an adult. You made this decision together, sat on his couch. One of his throw pillows hugged to your chest so he couldn’t see the way your hands were shaking.

“If this is really what you want,” Tyler had said, and you could hear the scratch in his throat, the way his eyes shone too bright. Unshed tears.

 You hadn’t been able to speak, tongue too thick, hot tears on your cheeks, fresh ones ready to replace as they dried sticky on your chin.

 He was away from home too much. Your lives were going in different directions. You had opportunities to travel with work, and it’s not like he could come with you. It was best to do it now, a clean break, rather than struggle on, slowly tearing.

 You’d cried all the way home from his house, struggling to keep the wheel straight. Your mother would have been horrified by the reckless driving. When you’d finally dared to look at your phone, that first night alone, Tyler’s text made you sob all over again. I love you. Always.

-/-

You talk to him, sometimes. You can’t help yourself. It’s like an itch that becomes unbearable. You have to scratch. Meaningless text message chains. How are you? Fine, you? I’m okay. I miss you. I miss you too. You know it’s not helpful, not the path towards healing that your married friends preach. But it makes it easier to sleep. Knowing he’s still out there. It’s a blissful kind of agony when he texts you unprompted, in the middle of the night, sometimes the middle of the afternoon. I think of you all the time or I dreamt about you or I thought I saw you at the game. Your own misery overwhelms. Winter sets in. You struggle through grey days, take the long way home to drive past his street. Pray you don’t see another car next to his.

-/-

You cry on the phone to your mother, great big sobs like a child does when they’ve lost their favourite toy. She tells you she’ll fly out.

 “No, it’s okay. I’m a big girl. I can do this.”

 “You can,” she assures, but the surety seeps away as soon as you hang up. A bottle of wine in front of the television. Take out. You’re either starving or not hungry at all now. You only watch ten minutes of an episode before you’re switching to the NHL channel. It’s too hard to forget the schedule. It’s like a reminder in your brain when you wake up in the morning, he’s playing today. You used to nap together, in the afternoons before games. The weak sunlight, the dancing dust mites. A Friend’s episode turned low. Tyler would reach for you in his sleep, nuzzle into your neck. Like he could never get close enough. Like he knew you would leave one day.

-/-

A mutual friends birthday. You’d tried to make excuses, but even you didn’t believe them.

 “It’s worse to avoid him,” your friend says, “It will only make it harder later.”

So in an effort to do the Right Thing, to be a Big Girl, and Move On, you find yourself drinking too strong punch, pieces of apple and orange floating in a plastic cup, leaning into a guy you just met and laughing too loud.

 And it is fun. For awhile. A mix of old friends and new. Loud music. And for most of the night, he’s not there. He’s so late you think he’s not coming. And you pretend you’re crying because you’re relieved and not because you’re disappointed. You’ve been smart enough to take yourself to the bathroom for the small meltdown, bent over the counter and taking deep breaths. You’re too old to be getting this smashed at a house party. It’s hard to focus on yourself in the mirror, bending light. It’s a good thing he’s not coming, you tell yourself, and wish you could believe it.

 You’re headed to the kitchen, the sink full of ice and hiding your drinks. Tyler is there. Tyler is there, standing in the hallway, talking to the host. His big hand makes the beer he’s holding look like a kid’s toy. He’s laughing, crinkly eyes, the sound reaching you. Slapping the guy on the shoulder, enjoying the joke. He’s so happy. How can he be so happy?

Dark eyes meet yours, the fall of his mouth from the grin. He goes to say something, call out maybe, but you’re turning away already, pushing back into the lounge room, the backdoor. Fresh air. Cold crisp of a Texan winter. The weather reporters are saying it might snow this year. He finds you. Of course he does. In the back-garden, looking up at the moon, counting stars. Your name in a familiar voice. The way he says it makes your heart hurt. You can barely look at him, the grass moving under your feet as you turn to face him. Curls peeking out from under a beanie. Black hoodie, dark jeans. You recognise the hoodie. You used to wear it to bed sometimes.

 “Hi,” you say, trying to be causal, wanting desperately to be, but at the same time you’re reaching out, clinging onto his arm. Don’t ever let go again.

 Tyler smiles, sad and small, “It’s nice to see you.”

 “Yeah,” you breathe, head back, gazing up at him. The moon has nothing on Tyler. Come back to me, you want to say, but this is your fault. You did this. You made this happen.

 “I wanted to talk to you,” he says, and you think yes, yes, just ask me, I’ll come back I promise, “I think it’s better if we don’t talk anymore. It’s too hard.”

 “Oh,” you say. It suddenly seems so much colder out here. “Okay.”

You watch him walk away, back into the house, the light of the party. And if you cry in the Uber on the way home, no one else has to know.

-/-

The first time you sleep together, afterwards, you could almost convince yourself it’s an accident. Not talking hadn’t lasted long. A loss, a commiserating text, a wish to just go back to the way things were. We can, you’d said, just for one night.

 It’s almost awkward, the way he’s a stranger around you again. He looks tired, sore, sweatpants and a hoodie. Pink cheeks from the cold outside. His hair is still damp from the shower, curling around his ears. You want to stay here, like this, forever, letting him sit you down in the bed, holding your face in his big hands to kiss you from where he stands between your knees. The way Tyler says your name, wanting, needy. The press of his body on yours. You missed this. You missed this so much. It would never be the same with anyone else. The way he touches you, so carefully, so purposefully. He knows just how you like it, just how you work together.

 It’s a habit, for you to be on top after a game, not worth making him expend any more energy. But he fights you for it, doesn’t let you settle, rolls you over onto your back again. You protest, mildly.

 “It’ll make you sore,” you say, can’t stop touching him, his hair, his face, his back, his chest. His skin is warm from the hoodie.

 “Don’t care,” Tyler says, a crooked smile, nudging his nose against yours, “I want it like this, want to see you properly.”

 Your heart is broken and remade simultaneously. It’s all you can do not to pull the doona over both of you and hide forever, keep him here like a prisoner. Cherish him for an age. His mother would never forgive you.

 Your body aches for him, as he nudges open your legs, kisses your mouth, your neck, your breasts. You should take your time, enjoy it, the last time, but you can’t help but surge towards the end.

 “Want you inside me,” you whisper, fingers on his hips, angling him.

 “Yeah,” Tyler rasps, aligning himself, “Fuck. Yeah, please.”

The relief of him sinking home, the opening of your body to him. It’s too easy, almost, the rhythm he settles into. Your legs tight around his waist, groaning when he pulls one up over his shoulder, finds a new angle. A big hand palming at your breast, the way he says your name, thick and low. You come a few moments before him, get off on the way he watches you, holds you, fingers caressing just above where he slides in and out of you. It takes everything not to cry, the final release, the drop of endorphins.

 Tyler shakes when he comes, a whole body shudder as he holds himself deep, panting against your ear. You stare at the ceiling and blink away tears. How could you ever have walked away from this? Nothing feels right unless he’s here.

 Later, he gets up to leave, but you reach out before he can get out of bed.

 “Please stay,” you whisper, pathetic. Tyler’s a shadow in the dark, but he’s warm when he slides back under the covers, gathers you up against his chest. You can hear his heartbeat as you fall asleep.

-/-

It takes you another week to swallow your pride. You call your mother, again, cry on the phone, again.

 “I think I was wrong, I think I made a huge mistake.”

 “If he is who you say he is,” she counsels, “He’ll forgive you.”

 “What if he doesn’t?”

You’re convinced that someone will be in your parking spot the whole drive to his house. A new car. A girl’s car. You can’t breathe along his whole tree lined street, until you see the empty spot. Like it’s waiting for you. Like it has been this whole time.

 You almost slump into him when he opens the door, the relief, the grief. He’s surprised to see you. Sleepy. Got in late last night from a Roadie. The dogs are everywhere at once, bumping you into each other as they try to get a cuddle. Tyler stumbles into you, forced by Marshall’s heavy tail. Your hand on his ribcage, steadying. Are you really going to do this? On his front step? Behind him, you can see your red coat on the coat hook. So that’s where it was. You’ve been looking for it in the cold. And he’s kept it, this whole time. Waiting for you.

 “I’m sorry,” you say, “I’m so, so sorry.”

Tyler shakes his head, confused, furrowed brow, “What’s going on?”

 “I made a mistake. I made a stupid mistake. I got scared, and I panicked. The truth is. I love you. And I’ve never loved anyone like I love you. And it’s scary. I’m so scared. But I shouldn’t have taken it on you like this. It was wrong. And if you can’t. If you can’t forgive me I understand. But. I really, really want you, too.”

 He says your name, quietly, prayer like. Your hand is still on his chest.

 “Are you sure?” He asks, and the dogs are still all around you, the front door is wide open. Tyler’s socked feet on the porch.

 “I’m so sure.”

And he’s laughing. He’s laughing. And he’s kissing you. Warm and fresh and familiar. And then you’re laughing and then you’re crying and Tyler is just holding, holding, holding you.

And along the street, a warm breeze blows through the trees. The promise of summer.

[boognish-worshipper]

Sunrise, Sunset

switching it up with a franklin and lamar centered fic (not exactly as a ship buuut more or less some one sided feelings?) jus a silly little idea i had that was originally gonna be a one shot sorta thing or whatever,, changed my mind tho n i’m jus gonna split it up, this is part one !!

i feel like lamar would be very oblivious about his feelings towards frank tbh LMFAOOO

//

Lamar and Franklin sometimes drove out to the highest point in Los Santos to watch the sunrise. Well, more Lamar than Franklin, seeing as Franklin preferred to sleep in. He often dragged him out of bed to go take Chop out and see the sun peak up from the horizon, lighting the city up with natural reds and yellows.

“C’mon you lazy fuck, we gon’ miss it!”

“Lamar, the sun rises every fuckin’ day! Trust me, it’ll be there tomorrow.”

“You jus’ a lazy bum who don’t wanna get his lazy bum ass outta bed. Man get up already!”

Chop barked, and Lamar nodded to him.

“Yeah, you right Chop. This muhfucker don’t wanna budge, huh? Don’t even wanna take his precious dog for a walk. You oughta be ashamed of yoself Frank.”

“Chop wasn’t even my dog to begin with!”

“Man fuck you, you became co-parent of him when you had to take him in!”

Franklin could only groan into his pillow, missing the blissful sleep he had been shaken awake from.

“Just go away Lamar! Damn!”

He felt the taller man looming over him, grabbing his shoulders to shake him further awake.

“We’re running outta time, fool. C’mon, I’ll let you ride shotgun this time.”

Chop barked in protest.

“Chop, it’s the only way we might get him out the house.”

Accepting that arguing would get him nowhere, Franklin sat up right, glaring at Lamar.

“For fucks sake man, fine. I’ll go. Jus’ lemme throw on some clothes that ain’t the shit I wore to bed.”

Lamar grinned widely at him.

“Fuck yeah! Chop, let’s go wait in the car.”

The small dog trotted not too far behind Lamar’s long legs. Franklin wondered what force he disturbed that landed him in this position. He sighed, knowing that he wasn’t exactly a saint, so there wasn’t much to wonder at all. If this was his punishment then so be it. The car ride wasn’t too long, especially not after Franklin moving out of Strawberry to Vinewood Hills, making it easier for them to get there. Minimal traffic because of how early it was helped too. Lamar never dropped his grin, just happy to do his favorite thing with his favorite person. Who wouldn’t love watching the sunrise with their best friend? Especially seeing the way the sun lit his face up, a delicate smile on his face seeing an excellent sunrise and- Woah. Where’d that come from? Lamar figured it was just his excitement to see a particularly gorgeous sunrise, using that as an excuse for the feeling that sat in his gut. As soon as they pulled up to the spot, he bounced out of his seat, keeping the door open for Chop.

“We here homie!”

“Mhm.. so where the fuck’s the sunrise?”

“Patience Frank, patience.”

“But you jus’ fuckin’ bitched at me for the last half hour about how we was gon’ miss it! Fuck you mean patience?!”

“It’s coming! Don’t ruin a moment that’s gon’ be special, F.”

He grunted in Lamar’s direction, turning around to go play with Chop for the time being. The sunrise crept up, a ray of sunlight hitting Lamar in the eye. He blocked the light with his hand, hitting Franklin with his free one.

“Ay Frank, look!”

The sunrise that crawled up from the depths of the horizon shone in glimmers of gold and pretty shades of orange. Lamar smiled again.

“Man.. look at that. It’s beautiful ain’t it-“ He turned to face Franklin, who was caught in a trance. The sun hit his face just right, and he looked incredible. Like some sort of focused statue or whatever. It was alright to admire your homies like that, right? Nothin’ wrong with admiring a dude. Franklin turned back to answer him.

“Yeah, it sure is.. you good man?”

Lamar coughed slightly, shifting his weight onto one of his feet.

“Uh.. yeah man, just thought I saw a bug crawling on yo face or sum’. But damn, I’m glad we caught this.”

“Me too. But I’m still pissed you dragged me outta bed so fuckin’ early.”

“Man what’d I say? Don’t bitch while we havin’ a moment!”

Franklin only laughed and Lamar felt something in him stir. It was good to hear him laugh.

“So now what?”

“Well, if we leave now by the time we get back into the city some of them diners should be open for breakfast.”

“This early in the day?”

“Believe it or not Frank but the rest of society does their shit earlier than you. So ya, people eat this early.”

They went back to the car, with Chop riding shotgun this time. Franklin wanted to rest his eyes until they got to whatever food place Lamar was taking them to, earning a snarky comment from him. Lamar wanted to pick a decent place to eat and eventually settled on an old diner they went to as kids. He poked Franklin, reanimating him back to life.

“Look where we at dog.”

“Ohh shit, this that diner we used to go to after school everyday! It’s still in business?”

“Guess so man. Let’s go!”

“Wait! What about Chop?”

Shit. Right. Chop looked at the two men, tilting his head sadly.

“You wanna jus’ bring the food back to yo crib?”

“Eh fuck it. Why not.”

They decided on some basic breakfast food and brought it back to Franklin’s place. The big windows in his kitchen would illuminate the room well enough, and Lamar could value the view from there.

“So tell me Lamar, why’s it you only wanna go see the sunrise? You never mention watchin’ the sunset dog.”

“Ion really know myself homie. One day I just started gettin’ up early wit’ Chop to go walkin’ n shit.”

“Can we watch the sunset sometime then? I am tired of gettin’ up at the asscrack of dawn.”

“That’s cuz you ain’t get yo 9 hours dog.”

“Man, shut the fuck up. Who the hell gets 9 hours at our age? Bozo.”

“I’m just sayin’ maybe if you got some normal sleep for fuckin’ once you wouldn’t be such a GD grouch.”

“Whatever you say bro.”

The two finished their food in comfortable silence, with Franklin scolding Lamar at least once or twice for feeding Chop table scraps.

“So whatchu wanna do now?”

“We could always go catch a movie or sum’, maybe go see that Meltdown movie ya boy Mike was talkin’ ‘bout.”

“Yeah, I never did get the chance to go see it, with all the chaotic bullshit goin’ on.”

They left Chop at home after a long goodbye from Lamar, telling him that as soon as they got back that he would get all the treats in the world and all that other mushy shit. Franklin mocked the high-pitched voice he used to speak to Chop, earning a smack in the arm from Lamar.

They arrived for a matinee showing at the the theater closest to Franklin’s house, getting a bunch of complimentary snacks and some drinks. The movie was awful, but in a way that it was enjoyable to watch. A movie so bad it was good. Franklin kept leaning in to whisper to Lamar how corny the whole thing was, saying that it was definitely right up Michael’s alley. He ignored the closeness between him and his friend as best as he could, but he still shuffled in his seat awkwardly.

“Hey uh, Frank. I’mma go to the bathroom real quick, stretch my legs n shit.”

“Aight, see you in a minute homie.”

His walk to the bathroom felt stagnant, and when he got there all he could do was look at himself in the mirror. What the fuck was his problem right now?

“Get it the fuck together LD. It’s just Frank, it’s nothing weird. Chill out.” He spoke aloud to himself.

He splashed water in his face and walked back to the room showing Meltdown. The movie was almost over and Franklin didn’t make anymore comments. Lamar sighed inwardly, just wanting to get out of there already, despite the whole going-to-see-a-movie thing being his idea to begin with. He didn’t know why he was feeling the way he did right now, and he didn’t know how to make it go away. Franklin leaned over to whisper in his ear once more, sending a chill down Lamar’s spine.

“Dog, this movie sucks and it’s almost over anyway, you wanna just get out of here?”

“Uh.. yeah, yeah. Chop’s prolly missin’ us right now anyway.”

Lamar drove them back this time, driving a lot faster than he should’ve been.

“Woah, homie slow down! What’s the fuckin’ rush for?!”

“I jus’.. Ion know I’m not feelin’ too hot right now and I really jus’ wanna get back to yo place. Maybe lie down or sum’..”

“That ain’t gon’ happen if we get in a fuckin’ car wreck though!”

He slowed it down a bit hearing Franklin’s concerned tone, frustrated by that feeling again. It was like an itch he couldn’t scratch. They pulled up into Frank’s driveway, Lamar nearly knocking over his recycling can, earning another disgruntled comment from Franklin.

“You been actin’ so weird bro, what’s goin’ on?”

“I honestly don’t know. Maybe the food we had jus’ not sittin’ right wit’ me.”

“Well, like you said go lie down or sum’. You wanna sleep in my bed for now? I’ll go take care of Chop or-“

“Uh sure, aight. I’mma go.. do that.”

Franklin looked at him like he had two heads, lifting a brow up in suspicion.

“Aight then, holla at me when you feel somewhat better.”

Lamar basically ran down the stairs to Franklin’s room, closing the door tight behind him. He slid down the door, looking straight ahead. Why did he feel so- so weird right now? He had a pleasant day overall with his best friend, what could possibly be bothering him?? He tossed his head back, making a small thud sound against the door. Groaning out loud, he did a walkthrough of today. He drove to Franklin’s, wanting to see the sunrise. Nothing unusual, this was a common thing they did. The sunrise was pretty, and lit everything up wonderfully. Again, nothing out of the ordinary. Franklin wasn’t entirely a buzzkill when they made it there, if anything he looked tranquil, the sun making his brown eyes glow. Then what? They got food, which tasted just like how he remembered from when Frank and him were just teens. Went to a movie which they basically talked the whole way through, Franklin continuously whispering in his ear. His voice so low and close made him feel hot all over, but it was just because whispering was like that no matter who was doing it. So what the hell was his problem right now? He must not have noticed how long he was in there, because he heard a light tap at the door.

“Lamar? You good homie?”

He rushed to stand up, pretending like he just woke from a short nap.

“Uh, yeah dog, doin’ just fine. Think layin’ down helped.”

“Good. You want me to take you home or do you wanna stay here?”

Part of Lamar wanted to stay just to be around Franklin a little while longer. The other part of him wanted to run right out the door. He thought it over, and figured he might need time to himself. He didn’t think he had it in him to be around Franklin after such a strange day. At least, a strange day for him. Franklin was thankful for the fact they had one normal day to hangout without shenanigans on Lamar’s part… besides the way he had been acting up to now.

“I think I’mma jus’ head back.”

“Aight then.”

The car ride back was silent. Lamar felt like the air was suffocating him, like any minute he’d pass out. He shifted in his seat to look out the window, familiar streets coming up. He didn’t want to look at Franklin for some reason, turning away from him.

“Hey, we here.”

He sat up, getting ready to get out of the car, until Franklin grabbed his wrist. Lamar felt like he was burning him with the contact.

“Ay man, what the fuck’s your problem today?”

“I already told you, it was the food or sum’, chill out dog.”

He loosened his grip, looking unsatisfied with his answer.

“Man fine, but if you hidin’ somethin’ from me I wanna fuckin’ know.”

“I’m not, I promise you.”

“You better not be, you mysterious bitch. Remember, you dragged me out of bed to hangout today.”

He winced, feeling guilty somehow.

“Yeah F, I know.”

Lamar looked back at his house, not wanting to get caught in Franklin’s death stare.

“I’ll see ya later or sum’ Frank.”

“See ya homie.”

He turned back, watching Franklin drive away. Torn between a relieved mood, and a pang of loneliness. As he walked inside his house, he slammed the door in frustration. Franklin and him were on the same page- he didn’t know why he was acting the way he was. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he went to a last resort to get an idea of something. That stupid psychic shoutout website that was growing in popularity. At least it was free.

Hello. What brings you to Miss Marcy’s site?

fuck you think, lady. help me out here

What with?

some fuckin explanation for why i feel weird rn

Were you just with a friend?

uh yeah

kinda why i’m here to begin with

I see. How close are you to said friend?

well, he like a brother to me ig? idk

never thought 2 deeply abt it.

A family friend? Hmm… I’m seeing the letter F, or T.

damn, you kinda good. it’s f

Wait a minute, I’m getting another letter. L!

yeah! my name starts with l!

You wouldn’t happen to be… I see it now… Lamar?

woah, you really fuckin good lady.

Well, I know I’m a psychic, but I have a feeling I spoke to your friend already.

you did?

Since when did Franklin visit stupid sites like this? He felt a blush creeping onto his face, wondering if Franklin might’ve been in the same boat as him at some point.

Yes. I think I have the answer to your problem, Lamar

please.

anything’ll help

Are you absolutely sure you want to hear it?

When I spoke to your friend, he didn’t seem too pleased with what I had to say.

c’mon lady don’t be a cocktease rn i need help

Well… okay.

You love him.

uh duh

he’s my best friend

why wouldn’t i?

No, I mean

You’re… *in* love with him.

His jaw went slack. He stared blankly at the screen. What?

the fuck?

uh no

ain’t no way.

I’m seeing a long time friendship. Lots of pining.

you ain’t seeing shit lady

u got it wrong

I knew you would say this - you can be mad at me all you want, but think it over

seriously, just think it over.

SERVICE UNAVAILABLE. PLEASE TRY AGAIN LATER.

“Fuck.” He whispered to himself.

“Fuck!”

He tossed his phone across the room onto his worn down couch. That didn’t solve his problem. If anything, it just made it worse. Love? Franklin? Him? What the fuck was that bitch smoking? He threw his palms over his face, groaning. He didn’t wanna think about what the fuck she meant. Because there was no way in hell he was in love with Frank. He couldn’t be. That was his day one. His best friend. That would be wrong, right? He paced around his living room, mind racing too quick for his liking. That couldn’t be the explanation for today. No way. That’s just ridiculous. There’s no way… no way he-

Then he thought about it. Like, really thought about it. The gears in his head were running at full speed now.

“Oh shit.”

//end of pt 1!!!!! this is already long as is, and i think i’m gonna finish it in another part or so. apologies for any grammatical errors ofc 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

[cyarikashakira]

Chimichangas

A/N: This is my first time writing a fanfic. I am super nervous but I have an overabundance of love for Joaquin Torres so I had to put it somewhere. I'm doing @caplanbuckybarnes's summer writing challenge.

Summary: Falling in love at the supermarket wasn’t on your to-do list today, yet here you were snatching looks at a cute stranger.

Warnings: (I don't know if these count as warnings) GN!Reader, No Y/N, Joaquin Torres is an absolute cutie pie!

‘They were gone. All of them.’ I thought as I rummaged through the wrongfully stocked freezer. A sniffle escaped, then two, which was followed by a full on wail.

“Who the hell put the Steak and Cheese chimichangas where the Chicken and Cheese chimichangas goes!?”

I slammed the freezer door and rested my head on it and placed my hand on the cold glass.

Casual shoppers and workers tiptoed around me while I grumbled to myself in annoyance. I just wanted my comfort food.

A full on breakdown in the middle of a grocery store and I gave no fucks. A tap on my shoulder and I whirled around ready to light up the poor soul who decided to bother me.

“What do you want?” I wiped the tears from my face with a growl. Giant innocent eyes looked at me in shock as I grimaced at him.

“Hi - um, can I help you?” He bravely pointed at his name tag which said ‘Joaquin’ with the Walmart name above

“Sure~ can you just point me towards the person who decided to sleep on the job and stock the wrong chimichangas in the wrong spot? I just wanna have a little chat.” I said with a fake smile on my face.

“Th-that would be me.” He gulped and pointed over his shoulder towards the stocking material behind him.

You peeked around him and just glared.

“So it was you. You have been declared as my arch nemesis. Where are the chicken and cheese chimichangas?”

“They are out of stock. But we can call you when they are back in stock.”

The air suddenly became tense.

“...Believe it or not, they already have my number because I buy them so often. It is Tuesday and it’s 8:30. They are always stocked at 8pm on Tuesday.” I looked down at my watch to double check the time. I crossed my arms ready to take my frustrations out on the worker.

“We are going to have to call some people.” He said plainly.

“What?” My head tilted to the side in confusion.

“For this chimichanga shortage. We need to call some people.” His smile got bigger as he continued talking.

“Chimi..changa shortage? If they are going to fix my day then you better call them.”

“I’m kidding..”

“Oh.” I let out a nervous laugh and made a face.

He ran a hand through his fluffy black curls and huffed. I took a look at his face, he was nervous.

“...Are you new?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“To the stock things department, yes. This grocery store, no. I’m so sorry that I stocked it wrong but thank you for pointing it out for me.”

I immediately felt bad because I realized that I was being a dick over some food.

“I’m so sorry. I’m just having a bad day. It was just a complete shit show. My cat got sick, my car is on it’s last leg and my boss is on my ass and I ran out of chimichangas and forgot to restock my fridge so here I am today - “

I rambled on and on.

“Hey, it’s okay. We all have bad days. I thought this was about to be a bad day for me also because you were upset at me.”

“I’m sorry again. I’ll live without them. I should go home before I embarrass myself even more.”

I lowered my head now feeling shy and more aware of my surroundings.

“Before you go, I think I have something that will make your day a little better. Follow me.” He turned swiftly and started walking away.

“Uh, no. I’ve burdened you enough today, sir.”

He stopped and turned to face me again. A smile formed on his face. Were those dimples always there?

“Come on. I’m just taking you to a person who can solve your problems.”

“Oh o-okay.”

I followed behind Joaquin towards the front of the grocery store. He stopped in front of the deli section and tapped a hand on the counter to alert the workers.

“Hey~ is Margie in today?” He said sweetly to the teenage girl who could barely see over the huge counter.

“Yeah Curly, she’s in the back. Let me go get her.” She ran to the back and pushed the double doors with force.

I looked at Joaquin with furrowed brows and pursed lips.

“Why do they call you Curly?” A small smirk appeared on my face. He blushed and his hand went to his hair once again.

“My hair. It is how everyone finds me and the fact that I’m tall. Everyone has a nickname here. We are as much a family as capitalism will allow us to be. Margie is just...wait until you see her.”

The shock of blue hair caught my peripheral and I expected to see a teenager. No. A tall lady who was on enough to be my mama strolled up to the counter with a huge smile on her face.

“What can I do for ya, Curly Quin?” Her accent drawled as she leaned against the display case.

“We have a situation. Apparently, I suck at my job and a certain someone had an entire meltdown in the middle of the freezer aisle because they are having a bad day like it was my fault. I’m pretty sure they want to get me fired but I’m too cute for that, right? So we need a solution to their chimichanga problem.” He sarcastically and over exaggeratedly explained the situation to Margie and his smile got wider as he went on.

“So Grilled Cheese over here wants a chimichanga? How is that my problem?” Margie planted her eyes on me and I felt like I swallowed my heart.

For an old lady, her look was intense.

“I need the goods. The family secret, the whole enchilada, you get where I’m going with this. I’ll finally bring you back your book that you let me borrow when I first started working here.” Joaquin slapped on the puppy dog eyes and Margie rolled hers.

“I’ll believe it when I see it. That was a year ago. I’m never getting that book back and you know it. I’ll be back for you and Meltdown over here, assuming that is you.” She gave a small smile and moved to go towards the back doors. “Give me a sec.”

As soon as she disappeared, I face palmed and groaned.

“You guys are going to make fun of me forever, aren’t you?” I looked at him in despair.

“Oh yeah, you know it. Welcome to making history.” He smiled towards me, flashing a dimple.

“Is there a way that I can make everyone forget about this? I will pay you guys off. I promise. Just forget everything that happened here today.” I waved my hands in circular motions like I was casting a spell, earning odd looks from everyone around.

He laughed for the first time that night.

“It’s not every day a grown up has a total fit like a toddler. This has made my day and probably my whole week.”

I groaned again and stomped my foot in annoyance, ready to snap at him.

The back doors flew open and a brown paper bag was thrown in my direction. Joaquin and I fumbled to catch it at the same time and we butted heads.

“Good thing you knocked some sense into each other so I didn’t have to. Get out of here kids, your chimichanga problem is solved.” Margie smiled.

I opened the steaming paper bag and started crying.

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” I started bouncing up and down with joy. I wrapped my arms around Joaquin and pulled him into a tight hug, crying on his shirt.

“No problem, I can’t breathe, please..let..go..” He said dramatically.

I immediately let go and cleaned my face putting on a huge smile. He took a deep breath and put his hand on his chest.

“You guys are the best and I am so sorry for taking my frustrations out on you. I really hope you can forgive me at some point.”

“Already forgiven. I just always want to do something positive with my day and make others smile. It’s all in a day’s work.”

“I don’t know how to thank you guys enough for the chimichangas.” I held the bag close to my heart, grinning widely.

“Go home and eat them. That’s thanks enough.” Margie deadpanned.

Oh. She was still there.

“Yes ma’am. Have a good night. Thank you for everything!” I waved goodbye to her.

“Don’t mention it kid.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow Margie!” He said to her.

She waved us off and we were on our way to the front doors of the store. We stopped just before the entrance, triggering the doors to automatically open. We were blocking the exit and people started going around us.

“I guess this is goodbye? Until I come in to restock my freezer again.” I said glumly, holding out my hand towards him to shake his hand.

“I guess so.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, placing it in my hand.

Question marks filled my brain as I looked down at his phone in my hand. He shyly placed his hand on the back of his neck.

“I told you whenever we restocked, I would give you a call so.. I would need your number for that.”

“Oh. But they already have my numb- Oh. Okay. Oh. Oh um, of course uh..”

I stuck my tongue out in concentration as I typed my name and number into his phone and handed it back to him.

“There you go. I uh, look forward to your call for whenever the chimichangas are back in stock.”

“Of course. I’m just doing my job. If they aren’t in stock and I’m off of work, can I still call you?”

My brain short circuited and I blinked rapidly at him. He was smooth. Toooo smooth. I studied his face for a joke.

“You aren’t joking with me, are you?” I put my hands on my hips.

“Nope, not one bit. Are you okay?” He questioned. I was sure smoke was coming out of my ears at this point.

“Uh, yeah. I’m fine. Just tired, it’s been a long day. I should get going.” I looked off towards the cars in the parking lot.

“It was nice to meet you. I’m sorry about your chimichangas and for my poor stocking skills.” He apologized sincerely.

“It was nice to meet you too, Joaquin. Thank you for everything. Am I allowed to hug you again?”

His brown eyes lit up and he furiously nodded. I wrapped my arms around him and he did the same to me. We let go as quickly as we started.

“I’ll see you around, Grilled Cheese.” He gave a two finger wave towards me and started walking backwards.

“Likewise, Joaquin Phoenix.” I started walking in the other direction.

“Haha. So original! It’s actually Falcon!” He shouted.

“What?” I stopped and turned back towards him but he was already gone.

I shrugged and walked towards my car. I opened the door and climbed inside, tossed the bag of chimichangas in the passenger seat and rested my head on the steering wheel. I released a huge sigh while lifting my head, started my car and began driving home. The street lights blurred past me on my drive home. My body was on autopilot as I opened the door, kicked my shoes off and sat on the couch next to my roommate with my bag of chimichangas.

I took a bite and immediately frowned.

‘Damn it. Steak and Cheese strikes again.’ I started laughing and shaking my head, dropping the chimichanga back in the bag.

“What is your problem?” My roommate said staring at the tv, not concerned to turn their head towards my hysterics.

“Nothing. I just had a meltdown in a freezer aisle and I think I fell in love with a stocker who is bad at his job.” I leaned back against the cushion of the couch and sighed dreamily.

“....no offense but you aren’t allowed to go to the store unsupervised ever again. You got issues...”

My phone began to ring and I just stared at the unknown number before answering.

“H-hello?” I stuttered.

“You will never guess what we just got in stock.” A light voice filled with laughter said over the phone. A huge smile formed on my face and I was booking it out of the door and yelled a quick bye to my roommate.

“I’m on my way.”

I hope you guys enjoyed this. I tried my best :)

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

You Don’t Have To Pretend

Big thanks to @jaskierswolf for betaing this and also making me take a nap 💖

Warnings: we mention yen’s tragic backstory, full on exhaustion, but in a soft way, yen has a meltdown, geralt is soft, this is just a shit load of projection plz just know i have taken a nap and done nice things for myself

____________________

Yennefer was always strong. She had no other choice. 

From the burden of her blood to the ‘succeed or lose all autonomy’ life at Aretuza, she’d always had to push. She pushed against the twist in her spine as a child, against a stepfather who despised her, against anyone who told her to settle and be anything but the best- strongest- most indispensable person in the room once she got a taste. If she took pleasure from something there was a reason for it, very seldom did she do anything that didn’t immediately serve her goals. It was how she survived. 

And it worried Geralt. 

The exhaustion wasn’t easy to spot, even when he watched her closely, but he noticed it all too frequently the more he watched for it. Her shoulders would sag from their usual proud posture when she thought no one was looking. She would let her eyes close for just a moment, gathering composure, and every now and then her lip would wobble. Geralt never saw a tear from her, never heard her cry, but he knew she did. She had to, given how much she held back. He could smell it on her, everything she bottled up and set on a shelf so that she could push on. If he suggested rest, she would scoff and ask if that’s how witchers survive. If he let her sleep past mid morning, she’d give him a tongue lashing. Finally, when she’d swayed on her feet, gripping her workstation and gritting her teeth angrily at her own body’s need to slow down, Geralt had seen enough. 

He slowly but noisily shuffled up behind her, careful not to startle her when she was on edge, and wrapped his arms around her waist. She breathed deeply, no doubt collecting herself to deliver another dismissing remark that she thought would convince him she was fine, but it never came. Instead, her hands hovered over his for a moment, almost fluttering as she tried to decide what to do with herself before they settled over Geralt’s arms. For once she didn’t pry him off, didn’t even stiffen and make him convince her. 

When he placed his chin on her shoulder and whispered, “You need to rest,” she only leaned into his embrace.

Carefully, like someone tiptoeing around a scared cat, Geralt unclasped the buttons of her bodice. She let him, hands still resting on his forearms as he worked and head resting back against his shoulder. When he unlaced the dress underneath she helped and shrugged it off, now watching him closely but still letting him lead. 

“Let me carry you.”

He knew better than to ask, she would refuse on principle. Even now, both of them knew it was still a question, just more stern and hopeful. 

For a moment, he still thought she would refuse, her eyes searching his gave him no clues as to what she was thinking. But after a beat, she nodded and wrapped her arms around his neck. As he carried her to her room, her head rested against his shoulder and she watched his face. What she was looking for he couldn’t guess, but for once, she wasn’t fighting him. 

As soon as he set her on the bed she began to push the straps of her slip off her shoulders, only to have Geralt pull them back up and hold her hands in his.

“Let me take care of you.”

Confusion carved a crease between her brows, “Is this not in the way?”

Geralt was almost hurt, and he knew it was clear on his face, but he knew how sorceresses were expected to behave and trained to anticipate. If he didn’t he’d surely be offended that she thought so little of him.

As it were, he simply slipped his shirt over his head and nodded to her to scoot over, “You need sleep.”

“I do no-”

“You do and you don’t have to pretend for me,” Geralt insisted as he climbed into bed next to her, opening his arms to her. When she only stared at him, her face completely unreadable he continued, “No one will punish you for resting… and I won't respect or fear you any less.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips, almost distracting Geralt from the way her eyes welled with tears as she whispered, “I don’t know how…”

Geralt was reminded once again that she didn’t have the type of family he did. She’d had no Eskel to teach her to breathe when things became overwhelming, no Lambert to pull her out of her head, no Vesemir to advise her. Then he remembered her wrists. The scars and the lonely helplessness they represented wrapped around his heart and threatened to stop it. 

If he were better with words, he would tell her she deserved so much more, that he’d never leave her alone again if she’d let him. He wanted to be able to whisper away her pain, but he was no poet, so he offered a wry smile instead, “A violet-eyed sorceress once told me the only thing I was good at was napping and eating. I can show you.”

Yennefer rolled her eyes, but melted into his arms all the same, tucking her cheek against his collarbone and laying her palm over his heart. His arm wrapped around her waist, holding her close and brushing her silky dark hair back from her face with the other. 

“Sshhhh…” Geralt interrupted her mid breath, keeping his voice low and soft as he ran his fingers through her hair, “Just breathe. You work and work and work… You deserve some peace.”

Geralt felt the tears splash onto his chest before he smelled the salt in the air or even felt her ribs shudder with her shaky breath. Her hand slid up and gripped at his shoulder, clinging to him like a drowning sailor clings to a lifeline as she silently sobbed into his chest. 

“You’re so strong,” he whispered, not trusting his voice to win out over the knot in his throat, “even when you don’t have to be. It’s okay to be tired.”

“I’m- fuck-ing exhausted,” she choked, a gutteral sob escaping her throat as she tried to regain control.

“I know, Yen… I know…” He held her tighter and placed a kiss on the top of her head, “Cry and breathe… exhale… good…”

Minutes passed before Yennefer’s body stopped shaking and she matched her breathing to the rise and fall of Geralt’s chest. She said nothing, just pressed her lips to his clavicle in thanks before she began tracing the scars on his shoulder, completely lost in thought. 

“Yen…”

“Hm?”

“Close your eyes.”

She blinked up at him like a child given permission to hold a kitten for the first time before nestling back against his chest. He had no idea if she listened, but he trailed his fingertips over the soft skin and whispered praise all the same.

“Good girl…”

Not long after, her heart rate slowed and breathing deepened and Geralt was quick to follow. They napped together all through the morning and into the afternoon, only so much as cracking their eyes open when Yennefer’s stomach growled. 

[wish-i-wasnt-a-coward]

Everything and Nothing

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

Pairings: Eventual LAMP, Demus

Warnings: Food mention, spacing out, loss of ability to read, mild negative self talk, guilt, mentions of a bully, mentions of intentional misgendering, cursing

Word Count: 1,214

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Logan was trying to read. He really was, usually, he was very good at reading and chose to do it recreationally. He could focus on the words and tune out the clutter that was the rest of the world. The book would take him to a place where his parents were proud of him, where he could sit still for longer than a minute, where Virgil was comfortable and Patton talked about his feelings. But not today. 

He was stuck. The sentence just didn’t make sense, there was no way to explain it without sounding like a complete lunatic, but Logan had temporarily lost the ability to read. ‘Not the best thing to happen in the middle of AP English’ Logan thought with a sigh, bouncing his leg at a ridiculously fast pace.

With nothing better to do Logan looked around the classroom. The week's homework was up on the whiteboard. Frankenstein’s monster, the book they were reading, was written in lovely cursive (which Logan also couldn’t read) at the top. Closer to Logan, Patton sat reading. They had worked so hard to get into this class, and Logan was very proud of them. 

School didn’t come easily to Patton, the way it did to Logan. But they were one of the smartest people Logan knew. They were invariably there for their friends, they knew what to say when Virgil was having an anxiety attack and knew what to do when Logan was overstimulated or having a meltdown. They understood emotions like Logan understood math. Logan would be lying if he said he wasn't a bit jealous. 

Logan was so zoned out he didn’t even realize that Mr. Flores had moved to stand next to his desk until the teacher spoke. 

“Hey, Logan'' the man whispered with a smile, “are you alright?” Logan looked up at him, “um, I’m having a bit of trouble reading right now, it's ok though I can just read this chapter for homework as well.” he replied with an awkward smile. “Oh don’t worry kid, I know what that's like, give me a second '' after a moment Mr. Flores returned with a small box and headphones. “Here, you can listen to the book and do the assignment at the same time instead of reading” Logan took it with wide eyes, “You know how to work these things?” Mr. Flores asked, “Uh yeah, thank you!” the young boy said, quickly sliding on the headphones. 

Patton looked back at him and smiled their angelic smile. Logan involuntarily smiled back and began working on the assignment. 

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By the time the class was over Logan’s head had cleared considerably. Patton, of course, had checked on him as soon as they had a moment. Logan was quick to reassure them that he was fine. Both of them thanked any god that may be up there for Mr. Flores. Knowing that without proper action Logan’s light zoning out could quickly turn into a dissociation episode. 

Patton was kicking themselves for not noticing sooner. And Logan was feeling like a burden. Neither enjoyed their next two classes. 

When lunch period rolled around the glasses gays were hoping that the day may improve for them. Roman had been joining the group during lunch break, and though she and Virgil weren’t yet quite as friendly as the others were, it was always nice to see him. 

Logan walked through the crowded lunchroom. He let muscle memory take over as he sidestepped the popular cliques, slipping into a chair at their usual table next to Virgil.  Bumping knees with the boy to alert him of Logan’s presence without scaring him. 

Virgil didn’t even look up, handing Logan an earbud for the BuzzFeed Unsolved video he was watching. Logan happily accepted scooting closer to the angsty teen. 

They were quite the pair. Most of the school was used to the odd friend group. But in many situations, it is not common to see a boy with purple emo bangs, baggy clothes, and heavy black makeup sitting shoulder to shoulder with an uptight nerd who wore ties to school. 

But it gets even odder, as the fluffy, happy, sunshine child slides next to the emo reaching over to turn on the close captions. Along with them, one of the two new kids, the one who wore a red trench coat to school, watched over their shoulders. 

Despite their oddness, they were important parts of the school’s hierarchy. Patton was the head of the cheer-leading squad and had turned the naturally misogynistic club into a safe space of sorts. Logan was the head of the debate team, this was a very popular club to watch after school. Because he would become very passionate about even the smallest subjects, and when the subjects weren’t small he was known to become violent. Which was entertaining, to say the least. Virgil was less involved than the other two, opting for running the small art program. He volunteered during his study hall and after school some days, helping the art teacher. 

The new kid had very quickly established herself as an immense theater nerd and had won the heart of the chemistry teacher who ran the theater program, Mr. Sanders. The cast and crew had also quickly accepted Roman as a part of the team. 

But despite the friends that the four had outside of their group, they opted for each other. If you asked Patton, they would say that it was because they were “bestest friends”, Logan would go on a rant about how they balanced each other out well, Roman would say that it was destiny that brought them together, and Virgil would mumble something about how queers always found each other. 

Of course, not everyone liked this, and there were people that even Patton would punch in the face if given the chance. 

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The video came to a dramatic end and Virgil let his head fall against Logan’s shoulder. Roman and Patton were teasing each other about something while eating their lunches. He could tell from the look in Logan and Pat’s eyes that it had been a tiring morning for the two of them. It had been a rough morning for him as well. 

The bitchiest bitch of them all, Greg had been in both his Math and history class this year. How he got into AP math, Virgil will never know. He was a bigoted fuck and as dumb as a rock. Those two things, unsurprisingly, often went hand in hand.

He had a lovely habit of misgendering Patton and Virgil. It was difficult for Virgil to see his best friend bullied like that and was tempted to tell someone. But for the most part, he just physically and verbally harassed Virgil. Hopefully drawing attention from the others. 

If L and Ro ever found out about Greg there would, without a doubt be bloodshed. The two of them could get in trouble, or hurt, or killed, and it would be all Virgil's fault. So he kept quiet about it. He had to. 

Logan gently wrapped an arm around Virgil pulling him back down to earth. “Are you alright Verge?” he muttered. Virgil just nodded burying his face further into Logan’s chest. He felt Lo hum in response, continuing his lunch one-handed. 

[toastedqueso]

Show Me The Way

Pairing: Yuta x Original Female Character | Reader

Genre: Friends With Benefits, Smut, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Unhealthy coping mechanisms, Explicit sexual content (Oral Sex, Unprotected Sex), Language, Yuta has tattoos and nipples piercings (I put that out in the universe, please make it happen)

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: After an unpleasant meeting with her mother, Chloe seeks comfort in her best friend Yuta. She thinks back to how they started and how they got here. Two hearts beating together, but can the two hearts be together?

Random Word Generator Prompt:

Must be about Yuta

Must contain these words: Therapist, Benefit, Judgment

A/N: This is part of the Random Word Generator Challenge with a friend. I tried to keep to 2k words, but it's slightly longer. Oops! Also, please practice safe sex!

Dinner with her mother leaves Chloe fuming. Chloe’s mother has a habit of dropping by unannounced under the guise of motherly duty only to remind Chloe how disappointing she is. In her eyes, Chloe could never meet her standards for perfection. After graduating high school, Chloe left to go to college on the other side of the country to escape her mother’s suffocating clutches. Unfortunately, her mother started making unannounced visits when she sensed Chloe trying to distance herself.

For the sake of her sanity, Chloe always spends their time together going through a list of her favorite things - shows, songs, food, even her favorite socks. This was something her Therapist had taught her to do - do something pleasant when faced with something unpleasant. This time, she only makes a list of 25 songs before her mother cuts their meeting short. Fortunately for Chloe, her mother has to get drinks with her business partners - the real reason she’s in town.

Now back in the comfort of her apartment, Chloe does breathing exercise from a meditation app to calm down. This is step 1 in her “post-motherly interrogation meltdown” recovery manual. Step 2 is waiting for Yuta’s text. A notification appears on her phone alerting her of Yuta’s text.

Yuta I’ll be over in a sec your mom she sucks

The text calms her a little. Step 3 was set to go. Yuta is the only person she finds she can confide in without judgment.

While she waits for Yuta to arrive, she thinks back to how their friendship was molded. They met during Freshman year when they both ran into their English class late and the Professor kept them both after class to reprimand them. They both sulked out of the class, but once out of the classroom they burst into fits of laughter. Their shared misfortune from the start of their college careers led to their inseparable friendship.

Yuta was an open book. He spoke freely and Chloe never had to second guess his intentions. It took Chloe some time to open up, but Yuta was patient and never pried for information. Chloe’s relationship with her mother further strained when she told her she switched her major from Business Administration to Psychology. Yuta was there to witness the call and was there to lift her spirits by dragging her to a wild night out to get absolutely trashed.

Their relationship took a turn after Chloe had drunkenly confessed to Yuta how sexy she thought his tattoos were.

“Only my tattoos?” Yuta teased.

Chloe shoved Yuta. “You’re sexy. And I’d fuck you right here. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Yuta laughed. “I only wanted the truth. And for the record, you’re sexy and I wanna fuck you too.”

Chloe blushed, more from his words than the alcohol. She leaned in to give him a kiss with more tongue than her sober self would have allowed. Yuta broke the kiss and looked in Chloe’s eyes.

“While I want nothing more than to fuck you till you can’t walk, you’re drunk. If you remember this tomorrow, then we can pick up where we left off,” Yuta offered.

The next morning, Chloe sported a hangover, but remembered everything from the night before. Yuta knew she’d be embarrassed to face him, so he came over with breakfast to help lighten the mood before they talked. She was silent while eating breakfast, but after her stomach felt slightly better she had enough courage to broach their drunken proposition.

“Soooo the cat’s out of the bag,” Chloe tried to joke.

“You mean pussy?” Yuta replied in a playful tone.

Chloe scoffed while Yuta laughed at her reaction.

“Well, we’re both hot and we know how we feel about each other, SOOOO,” Yuta replied. Though he wanted more, he wanted Chloe to decide what she was comfortable with.

“Yuta, I don’t want a relationship,” Chloe shot down instantly. Judging by the look of shock on Yuta’s face, she knew that wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

“Don’t get me wrong, I want you. I want you SO bad, but, you know, me and relationships, they don’t work out,” Chloe explained.

Yuta did know. He witnessed Chloe have her heart broken countless times throughout their friendship. He guessed her failed relationships might have also had something to do with her mother.

“Well, you can have me how you want me, Chloe. We can still be the same Chloe and Yuta, best of buds, but now upgraded with the physical benefits. You know, friends with benefits,” Yuta suggested cautiously. He looked rather shy and seemed a little unsure of himself.

“Are you okay with that?” Chloe eyed him carefully.

“Seriously? Already trying to kill off my genius idea?” Yuta reverted back to his usual playful nature.

“I don’t want to hold you back from relationships. If you ever want to move on or get tired of me, just tell me. I’ll be fine.”

Yuta reached out to cradle her face in his hands.

“Chloe, don’t overthink it. I’ll never get tired of you. We’ll always be friends. We’re just two very hot friends having sex like all the time. It’s what the universe wants.”

Chloe laughed and sealed their deal with a kiss.

The knocking on her front door breaks Chloe from her reverie. She quickly opens the door and Yuta practically jumps in to hug her.

“I came as fast as I could,” Yuta says out of breath. Chloe feels slightly guilty for making him rush over.

“Thanks Yuta. Sorry if I interrupted something,” Chloe says as she sits on the couch. He shakes his head to brush off her apology.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Yuta asks softly as he sits down and places a hand on her knee.

Chloe is touched by his genuine concern, but brushes it off. She takes his hand off her knee and straddles him.

“You know I didn’t call you here to be my Therapist,” Chloe replies. She grabs the bottom hem of his shirt and swiftly takes it off.

“You want me that bad?” Yuta tilts his head back on the couch and laughs.

“Shut up and kiss me, idiot,” Chloe demands. Yuta smirks before he molds their lips together. He starts off slow and tender, before she licks his lower lip signalling him to go deepen the kiss.

Chloe quickly takes her clothes off while Yuta struggles out of his jeans. Growing impatient, Chloe pulls Yuta closer as she sits naked on the couch. She moves her hands down his chest before her fingers delicately brush over his nipple piercings. He lets out a soft moan before he grabs her hands.

“Tonight it’s about you,” Yuta says, taking her hands off of him.

Yuta kneels in front of her and throws her legs over his shoulders. He licks her clit and feels her legs shaking already. He slowly inserts a finger in her pussy while he continues licking her clit. He sneaks a peek at Chloe and sees her writhing in pleasure.

“You’re so wet,” Yuta comments.

“Shut up and make me come,” Chloe demands. She grabs his hair and pushes his face closer to her clit.

Sensing her impatience, he adds another finger and picks up the pace of the thrusts. He slightly curves his fingers and goes back to licking her clit. Chloe tightens her hold on Yuta’s hair and curses when she feels her orgasm come over her. Once she comes down from her high, she lets go of Yuta’s hair. She looks down and sees Yuta looking in her eyes while licking his soaked fingers.

Before Yuta takes his boxers off, Chloe pushes him onto the couch. Chloe kneels in front of him and softly kisses the butterfly tattoo peaking out of his boxers on his left hip. She grabs his dick out of his boxers and smiles at how hard he already is. She licks the head of his cock before slowly licking up and down the shaft. Yuta lets out a moan when she takes his whole dick in her mouth. The sight of her sucking his dick makes him want to lose control and fuck her mouth. Chloe’s mouth keeps a steady pace on his dick, which makes him whine.

Yuta grabs her hair and pulls her up for her kiss. Tasting Yuta’s restlessness, Chloe straddles him and lines up his cock to her pussy. Without breaking the kiss, she slowly lowers herself before raising her hips then slamming back down faster. Yuta grabs her face to break the kiss.

“God, your pussy feels so fucking good,” Yuta says before he delicately kisses her earlobe.

Chloe finds her rhythm and picks up the pace taking him deeper each time. Yuta’s hands move up to massage her breasts, inciting a moan from Chloe.

Yuta can sense that Chloe is about to reach her orgasm soon by the way she’s digging her nails into his shoulders. Taking over, he grabs her hips to steady her before he starts thrusting up into her pussy at a rapid pace.

“FUCK! I’m gonna come,” Chloe warns as she starts rubbing her clit.

Chloe moans as her pussy tightens around Yuta’s dick. Yuta kisses her as she rides out her orgasm. Yuta reaches to pull out, but Chloe stops him.

“I want you to come inside me,” Chloe whispers in his ear before she kisses his neck.

Yuta grabs her ass to press her body closer to him and picks up the pace of his thrusts. Chloe kisses down his chest before licking his left nipple piercing and rubbing the other.

“Fuck! Keep doing that,” Yuta demands.

Not long after, Yuta feels the familiar feeling of pleasure and comes deep inside Chloe. He pulls her face away from his nipple piercing to meet him in a kiss. Coming down from his high, he holds her close as they steady their breathing.

Yuta quickly grabs some tissues as he pulls out and wipes his cum off before it drips out Chloe and onto the couch. He throws the tissues away before returning to the couch to snuggle with Chloe.

Although neither of them would say it out loud, cuddling after sex was one of their favorite things to do together. Yuta buries his face in her hair, pondering how to best choose his next words. He gives Chloe a kiss on her temple, catching her attention.

“You know I’m here for you whenever you need me.” Yuta reminds her as he combs her hair with his fingers.

“I know,” Chloe replies, fearful of what Yuta may say next. Yuta wasn’t usually much of a talker after sex.

“Chloe, I want to be there for you even more than I already am. If you let me,” Yuta confesses.

“Yuta,” Chloe starts. Even if he doesn’t explicitly say it, she knows he wants more.

“Come on, Chloe.”

“You know why. You know what I’m like.”

“Yes I do and that’s why I want you,” Yuta tries to convince her.

Yuta accepting her despite all her issues and flaws should be comforting, it is comforting, but Chloe doesn’t want to let him in. Chloe sighs and closes her eyes. This was not what she wanted to deal with after mindblowing sex. She needs to keep herself centered from her conflicting emotions.

“Forget what I said. I’m leaving,” Yuta announces. He quickly picks up his boxers and jeans from where they were strewn.

Chloe stays silent as she watches Yuta get dressed, unable to find the words that might comfort him. She would be lying if she said she didn’t feel the same as Yuta, but she didn’t feel that she deserved something so good when there was so much bad in her life.

“The sooner I’m out of here, the sooner you’ll want me back anyway,” He lashes out as he grabs his shirt.

“Yuta, It’s not like that,” Chloe starts.

“No it’s cool. I know my place.” Yuta hastily slips on his shoes and opens the front door. “See you tomorrow.”

He steps out of the apartment without turning back.

Chloe feels bad for putting him through this. She feels bad he wants more. She feels bad she can’t bring herself to say she wants more too.

[maeiso-trash]

Perfection shatters like glass

Isogai is only perfect because he has to be, not because he wants to be.

A bit of character study(?) and making Isogai cry lol.

Word count: 2,925

Ao3

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

The soft glow of the sunlight filtered in through the window, casting a yellow hue inside the living room. Books lay scattered on the table, disorderly stacked. Maehara sat on one end of the couch, observing Isogai, who was positioned at the opposite end, head buried in a book. He observed how delicately Isogai handled the pages, admired how focused he was, golden eyes fixated on the story in front of him. His expressions constantly changed as he read, and Maehara could only assume he was mirroring the character’s emotions. How cute. Makes him want to call Isogai something equally adorable. 

"Hey, can I call you darling?” Maehara asked, his head in the clouds, a dumb grin on his face. 

"I dunno, try it out," Isogai replied, not bothering to look up from his book. He felt the couch sink next to him as Maehara sat beside him. 

"Okay, darling." Maehara's gaze softened, and he felt his heart melt at the taste of the nickname on his tongue. It made him feel old-fashioned, absolutely smitten with his best friend. He stares at Isogai, taking in how his eyes dart up from the book to Maehara, only just processing his words. Maehara chuckles to himself at how cute Isogai's reaction is, albeit delayed. He's way too stupidly in love with his best friend. But he doesn't mind. He admires how the light pouring in from the window makes Isogai's eyes shine. How the curve of his lips tugged up just a little. How his eyes gaze back at him, a little surprised. How his antenna sprung up with his emotions before quickly returning to normal.

Isogai felt his heart skip a beat, and butterflies in his stomach. Blush starts to blend into his cheeks, though it's faint. He can't help but smile, giggling a little inside. He rolls his eyes affectionately, used to Maehara's flirts and sweet nothings. Why he puts up with Maehara, he doesn't know. But they've been close since childhood, and understand each other better than anyone else. He doesn't want to lose that bond. "Since when did you become such a romantic?" He half-jokingly asks, putting his book on the table.

Despite their history together, they feel like inexperienced kids, trying to figure out love for the first time. It's just a simple, sweet pet name. A name that kisses the back of one's hand, makes someone feel like they're floating on clouds. It makes one feel warm and fuzzy inside. It's a feeling akin to the aroma of fresh bread, the personal thought of a handwritten letter. It’s watching the rain pelting down gently on the pavement, staring through frosted glass windows with a warm drink in hand. It’s the sun reaching through the windows at dawn, encasing everything in a warm yellow glow when the world hasn't woken up yet. 

Maehara slowly wrapped his arms around Isogai's waist, peppering featherlight kisses along his shoulder. "Ever since I fell in love with you, darling." Maehara purposefully says it again, and Isogai can practically hear his smile. 

"Pff- stop," Isogai giggled softly, ticklish from the onslaught of kisses. "Th-that tickles."

"Fine, fine. Whatever you say-" Maehara relents, kissing him a final time, "-prince charming."

Ah, that old nickname. 

Isogai doesn't really think it suits him. 

"Prince charming, huh?" he repeats, testing how the title rolls off his tongue. It's a foreign feeling. He doesn't think he deserves such a fancy title. Maybe he's just being modest. "You of all people should know I'm really not that perfect like others say."

Maehara sighs. Having been best friends with Isogai, he knows there is more to him than his charms. He's seen him frightened, and scared. He's witnessed the forgetful and panicky side of Isogai. He's helped him through his meltdowns when the weight of the world on his shoulders was too much to handle. He's seen him angry, and tired. Although, these aren't really flaws to his character. At least that's what Maehara thinks. He ponders deeper, wondering what exactly his friend's weaknesses are. 

Perhaps it's his overly self-sacrificing habits, his selfless acts and priorities. Maybe it's his perfection itself that's his flaw. His own downfall. Maybe it's the outcome of his backstory. The aftermath of the long nights and forced smiles. Taking care of others so much that he forgets to take care of himself. Thinking that he isn't good enough, downplaying his self-worth as he's used to it. He wants everyone else to be happy. He thinks his own opinions don't matter.

No. It can't be that either.

Maehara frowns a bit, and wishes Isogai can realize that he's worthy of the nickname of 'prince charming.' That he's perfect even with imperfections. 

"I do know. But you're still perfect to me. I always called you that when we were kids and you never had a problem then."

"Yeah, when we were playing pretend," Isogai says, a hint of nostalgic melancholy in his voice. He misses those days, when he was happier, when everything was simpler and there wasn't much to worry about. When Maehara would make him a flower crown ‘fit for a prince’ and pretend to be his knight. He isn't too sure how the whole prince thing started, or why Maehara would think of him as one. But that was back then, and now they've grown older. Now they have responsibilities and duties to take care of. He can't live in a world of fantasies and reminisce about the past forever. He wishes he could, but he can't, no matter how much he yearns for it. "This is reality, Hiroto. We're not kids anymore."

"Don't wanna believe it," Maehara spat out with a pout. "You just grew up faster because you had to."

Ah. 

That came out wrong.

But once the words left his mouth, it left a bitter taste on Maehara’s tongue. His throat goes dry and he regrets it immediately. Maehara never really cared for his responsibilities, choosing to fool around and have fun instead. Isogai didn’t have that luxury. 

"Oh, I. . . I see," Isogai trails off, unsure of how to respond. He knows it's the truth, and that Maehara wasn't trying to be mean. Isogai did have to grow up faster than other kids his age. He had to be someone his family could depend on, someone others could rely on. He prioritized others' needs before his own. He still does. He pushes himself a lot and it tears him apart mentally and emotionally. He's tired. He's ‘perfect’ because he has to be. Admittedly, it hurts, not having a normal childhood. Forced into maturing and growing up from a young age. He technically still is a kid, though it doesn't feel like it with the overwhelming weight of the world on his shoulders.

"N-No, Yuuma, I didn't mean. . ." Maehara panics and hugs Isogai just a little bit tighter. He doesn't want to see his best friend cry. Especially because of his own mistake. He would never forgive himself for that. "Sorry." It sounds like a shallow, half-hearted apology, just one measly word. But he can't seem to say anything else. He falls silent and stares blankly at the floor. 

Isogai doesn't break away from Maehara's hold. Maehara’s kisses linger on his skin. The feeling is bittersweet. Isogai gets a sense of deja vu, and he remembers the name he was given that day in class when everyone was given codenames. 'President poverty,' they called him. Almost mockingly, like salt being rubbed on the wound. He bites his bottom lip, remembering who gave him the codename in the first place. 

Maehara Hiroto, his best friend since childhood, the one who understood him most out of everyone. The one who he shared his secrets with, the one who’s been with him through thick and thin. Thinking about it, it almost feels like a betrayal. He glares at the floor.

"President Poverty," he drawled out, venom injected into each syllable.

"Wh-what?" Maehara questions, confused at the sudden change in Isogai’s tone.

Maehara's ignorance, intentional or not, sends Isogai off the edge. "Are you fucking dumb? Wasn't it your idea to give me that codename? My personality isn't just being perfect and poor, y'know!" He practically hisses, prying himself away from Maehara. Isogai frowns at him, glaring at him through misty tinted eyes, pale golden irises losing their shine. "You’re so mean, Hiroto. It's not like I wished to be born into a poor family, for my dad to die, and for my mom to become ill. I didn't want this. I never wanted all these responsibilities. I never wanted to be perfect." He didn't want to be perfect. He wanted to be a kid again. 

"Hey, hey, what's with this all of a sudden?" Because while Maehara knows Isogai well, he can't read his mind, can’t follow the trail of thoughts that lead Isogai to this point.

"You wouldn't understand. You don't have to work your life away just to make sure you survive."

What started from anger turned into tears, and Isogai isn't too sure himself of why he's crying. It just hurts, and he's tired of this life. His life. Overwhelmed with everything, his emotions bottled up only to crash in waves. All his life, other people always reminded him that he was poor. They’d point and laugh at something he couldn’t even control. His financial situation was always their go-to insult. And he’d always brush it off with a forced smile, trying to block the insults from his memory. It always hurt whenever he remembered them. 

Maehara never really made fun of him for being poor. Or at least, not until the ‘president poverty’ thing. It hurts now that he’s realized it. Isogai considered Maehara his best friend, and yet, it doesn’t feel like it. But Isogai genuinely can't hate him, and he hates that. 

Maehara isn't too sure how to respond, not wanting to make the situation worse, only watching Isogai cry out of supposed anger. Maehara lets Isogai cry, he probably needs it anyway, and decides to talk when he's finished. In the meantime, he reflects on Isogai’s outburst and yeah, maybe he was rather insensitive, unintentional or not. 

The air around them is still, the tension thick. Time ticks by, but to them the world doesn't move. They're suffocated by a silence filled with regret. Maehara desperately wants to reach his arms out and envelop Isogai into a tight hug, but he knows him well enough to know the other will only push him away. Out of anger, out of fear, out of pain. 

Fights have never happened between the two of them. They were always too understanding for that. Of course, they had their arguments, avoiding the other out of shame and guilt, before making up like friends do, learning from their mistakes, trying to better themselves. But it rarely happens, and sometimes they forget about the silly disagreements. But this argument isn't as silly as which one of them kills the spider or turns the light off before the monster gets them. They know you can't turn back time, hit rewind and start over. So they wallow in the pond of regret and guilt, distant from one another as they try to sort out their thoughts.

Isogai begins to regret saying his thoughts. Perhaps he should've just accepted the nickname of 'prince charming'. Maybe they wouldn't feel so awkward right now. Maybe he wouldn’t be bawling his eyes out, sobbing like the child he never allowed himself to be. Deep down, he knows it isn't selfish to speak out his feelings, tell the truth of his thoughts, but it feels selfish to him. Almost like he’s begging for help, for some sort of comfort when he thinks he doesn't deserve it. He wants to go back to a time where everything isn’t so complicated, when his mom isn’t ill, and his dad isn’t forever gone. He wants to go back to a time when he wasn’t working a part-time job, when smiling wasn’t such a chore that made his cheeks hurt, and when his wrists weren't sore from carrying trays and plates and cups all day. He never wanted these things to mold him into the person he became today, sculpted and shaved down and crafted into perfection. 

Although right now, he isn’t so perfect, breaking down in front of his best friend. His eyes all red and puffy and his tears streaming down and into his mouth, his sleeves stained with snot. His throat is hot and sore and he almost chokes on his cries. In a way, he feels relieved, letting everything out. Allowing himself to feel something, to cry, to feel human. Breaking the carefully sculpted character he chiseled himself, the one that adapted and matured to life all too quickly, the one that hid all his flaws and imperfections behind a wall. 

He cries and cries until the tears dry out, and in the end he just feels kind of pathetic. He doesn’t say anything, wiping away the last of his tears. Maehara gently rubs a hand on his back, which Isogai doesn’t bother trying to swat away. He’s just tired.

"I'm sorry, really, I am," Maehara says quietly. He feels really bad but he's mostly mad at himself and he should've just kept his mouth shut but he never learns his lesson. "I know about your situation and I didn’t really take your feelings into account. I just thought that a name like that could help you relax a bit and not worry about being perfect all the time. I was uh, very wrong on that. It's unfair that you have all these responsibilities when you never asked for it in the first place. I acted like it was your fault when it never was to begin with. I didn’t mean to hurt you and I'm. . . really sorry."

Maehara wouldn't be surprised if Isogai never forgave him. He's made a lot of mistakes in the past. Way too many, for his liking. Now that he thinks about it, he's done a lot of things he regrets. Mistakes he can't erase, no matter how hard he tries. But he never really confronted his problems, opting to move on and run away instead. 

Isogai takes some time to process Maehara's apology, wiping away his tears. He gazes solemnly at Maehara, his eyes all puffy and glassy, and Maehara's heart breaks. Right, he caused that. Maehara feels really guilty, almost wanting Isogai to be mad at him rather than upset. He repeats the word 'sorry' in his head, over and over again. 

"Please never call me that again." Isogai doesn’t really know whether to forgive Maehara or not. If he does, it’ll probably take a while. But the request should be a start, he decides.

"You have my word," Maehara mumbles quietly, stretching out his pinky finger. 

Isogai interlocks his pinky finger with Maehara and his lips stretch into the faintest smile. “You better keep it,” he laughs weakly. He almost can't tell if it was genuine or not.

"I will. Promise." Maehara began to trace gentle patterns on the back of Isogai’s hand, something he always did when the other was in need of comfort. "Do you miss being a kid again?" It was a genuine question, no ill intentions. 

"A little, yeah," Isogai admits. He almost forgot what it was like to be one. To be carefree, unaware of the harsh realities of the world in front of him. He doesn't really mind it, or at least that's what he tells himself.

Unlike him, Maehara hasn't forgotten, and he wiggles his fingers lightly against Isogai's waist in an attempt to lighten the mood. 

Isogai stifles a laugh, before bursting into a fit of giggles. "Wa-wait! Stop- Hiroto stop it!"

“You’re as ticklish as ever.” Maehara says with a smirk, letting his hands fall to his sides.

“And you’re as annoying as ever.”

“Hey!” Maehara lightly punched Isogai’s shoulder. And really, he shouldn’t take offense when he insulted his best friend where it hurts most.

Isogai doubles over with a laughing fit, and Maehara is about to ask why until Isogai quickly composes himself and turns back to face him. On his face is a stupid grin as he wipes away a tear. "I love you though.”

Maehara softly glares at him, lips curving into a half-smile, half-frown. "Hmph. I love you too." He gently caressed Isogai’s cheek with his palm. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his expression softening as he gazed adoringly at Isogai. He truly doesn’t know what he did to deserve Isogai. “Could I. . . hug you again?” 

Isogai gives him a nod and Maehara practically bursts with happiness as he tackles the other in a hug, pressing their bodies close together. It’s warm. And feels like home.

“It’s okay to let loose sometimes, y'know. I know you have to work because of money issues and you have to take care of your family and all that but you should take care of yourself too. Don’t push yourself too hard, alright? I care about you a lot. Your health and happiness is just as important as everyone else's.”

Isogai is pleasantly taken aback at Maehara's words, and he can't help but smile. He returns Maehara’s hug, wrapping his arms around the other tightly. It's times like these he's glad to have put up with Maehara all these years, happy to have him in his life. “Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind."

[imnotasuperhero]

I would lie and say you’re not in my mind.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Stark!Reader

Type: Angst.

Summary: Reader finds herself alone, with no explanation as to where Wanda went. And life without her was a true nightmare she could only scape with not-so-nice coping mechanisms.

Wordcount: 2644

Warnings: Drug abuse, one suicidal thought and depression.

A/N: This is my submission for @jbbarnesnnoble writing challenge! I’m so sorry for the delay. Life and work got in the middle, leaving me drained to get some actual writing done. You can search this and other works with the tag #JBBNNMHAMChallenge which deals with different types of mental healt, as to raise awarenes about it.

A/N 2: Since it’s inspired in real events, I decided to twist this and give it a happy ending. People need to know there is hope. No matter how hard life becomes, you’ve got this and you shouldn’t suffer alone. Fight your fear and seek for help. I promise, life is worth living.

A huge than you to @marvelfansince08love for enduring her patience with my rants and mini meltdown about this monster. I could never thank you enough for puting up with my dumb ass, boo. I owe you a lot! <3

If you guys want more, I might have a plot for some kind of spin-off for this story. Just let me know. Also, criticism is welcomed.

"Miss Stark," one of the executives called your attention. "Your nose is bleeding."

Automatically, your fingers found your nose and yup, it was happening. Fucking hell.

Excusing yourself, you left the conference room with rapid steps to the closest bathroom, dismissing whoever you crossed on your way. You weren't new to this, after all.

Once you got the bleeding under control, you inspected yourself in the mirror. The reflection staring back at you was nothing like your old self. The circles under the eyes needed much more concealing and your smiles were forced. But at least you picked a black blouse today, which it'll do until you got a chance to go back home and change.

"Are you sure you don't want to go home?" Julia asked sheepishly.

"No. I'm capable of handling the rest of the day," you mumbled as you finished the last touches to your make-up.

"Mr. Stark could find-"

"Mr. Stark will find out shit," you cut your assistant. "This is just a sneeze that caused a vein to pop. Understood?" You could see how the woman in front of you shivered slightly and you almost laugh at it. You've become so pity.

"Y-yes, Miss. Is there anything else I can do?"

"No." You inspected yourself in the mirror once again before walking out. "Go over the rest of my day and make sure you send the informs to Stewart."

Fortunately, the day progressed smoothly with very few bumps. And none of them were about you, so you took it as a victory.

Kicking your high heels after closing the door behind you, you started to strip while walking towards the bathroom. The weekend was finally here, which meant you could wind out and enjoy your own company. After the latest events on Beto's, you made sure to lay low for a while. You didn't need another clingy bitch hanging from you all the time. You were just a gal wanting to have some release. Nothing more, nothing less.

In the middle of your calming bath, the sharp razor you kept for emergencies caught your eyes. 'God, it'd be so easy.' You thought to yourself. Just a little line in the right place would do it. The consuming pain would disappear and you'd be free. Hell, maybe you'd find her again in the afterlife.

Before you could continue the line of thoughts, your phone rang with your dad's personalized ringtone. Something you made sure of for when you were doing not-so-nice activities.

"Hey, dad." You absentmindedly sank deeper in the tub. The bubbly water covering up to under your jaw.

"Hi, Peanut." Tony's voice soothed your damaged soul the littlest bit. "It's been a while. How are you?"

"I'm fine," you answered nonchalantly. Lying has become second nature by now. "Living the life. How are you guys?"

"That's what I called you about. Pepper and I want you to come to spend the weekend here. We barely see you outside work so we thought it'd be nice to take advantage of the long weekend. Pleeeeaaase? With a cherry on top?" He finished in a child's voice and you felt your heart squeeze itself.

Truth was, you were tired of lying all the time. You were tired of faking and saying you were okay when you weren't.

"Okay," you sighed. 

"Yay!" Yup, he was a child. "We'll get your room ready. We'll have your favorite."

You didn't know the exact moment you started crying, your dad going a mile a minute talking about his latest invention and how he'd love for you to help him figure out the last touches.

Hanging up, you finally let out the awaiting sobs. Memories of an easier -and happier- time plaguing your mind, making it harder and harder to breathe. Life without her sucked balls.

After drying yourself and throwing on a fresh pair of pajamas, you quickly fixed your bag for the weekend, knowing fully well you'll wake up with just the right spare time before you had to leave for your dad's.

The next morning, you woke up before your alarm went off, which would be fine if it weren't for Wanda appearing in your dreams. Promises of a better life and reaching milestones together, fanning the painful fire in your heart.

Walking to your stash, you retrieved the white powder, forming three consecutive lines on your nightstand. A small straw between your fingers ready to be used. You wouldn't be able to consume when you were at your dad's, so you better took your chance before it was too late. Odin knew you needed the boost.

Stopping at a random café a few blocks from your home, you quickly got yourself a black coffee and a muffin before hitting the pedal once again, changing the playlist to something more upbeat. 

Soon enough, your mind drifted to the impromptu road trips you'd do with Wanda. Sometimes even a week-long trip. Just the two of you apart from the chaos of your lives. 

Out on the road, it was only laughs, music, and fast food with the occasional make-out sessions. God, if you could, you'd live in the past forever. 

Stepping out of your car, you couldn't help the smile that broke your face. Working in the same place as your dad didn't mean you've got to see him every day. And being honest, you were happy he offered you scape from her curse.

"Hi, dad." You answered once you reached him, returning his hug. And boy, didn't you felt safe in those strong arms. They never failed to soothe you.

After what seemed like hours of walking around your dad's property, you and Pepper came back to the house ready for a refreshing iced tea. But any trace of a nice calming bath dissipated away when you say your dad standing in the middle of the living room, his face stoic.

"What's this?" The quietness of his voice freezing your blood.

"I'm waiting, Y/N." 

You cringed at your dad's voice. The disappointment showing in his eyes made you regret not checking before you grabbed a random bag for this trip.

"Look me in the eyes and tell me this is not what I think it is," he begged, showing you and Pepper the almost empty baggy between his fingers. And you ignored him. He already knew the truth, after all. "Say it," he growled.

"So the bleeding nose-"

"Screw you," you muttered, cutting Pepper mid-sentence.

"Hey! That's no way to talk to her,"

"You know what?" You walked to your dad, looking up to his eyes. "Yes, I'm an addict. Good job, Sherlock. Now you can get rid of me as you did with my mom. After all, you never wanted me in the first place, so why should it matter." You snapped with burning tears in your eyes. "There's no need to keep faking it anymore." You walked away, leaving them mouth agape, trying to process your words.

Plopping down on your bed, you couldn't help the feeling of failure igniting inside you. The tears in your eyes burning your eyes as they appeared, flowing down your cheeks as the sadness and emptiness became just too much to handle.

You didn't remember when was the last time you were genuinely happy. And it sucked that it depended on someone. It sucked and you despised it more than anything. But then again, Wanda was everything you'd need to live in this world. Always positive, with a smile so bright that could light up the darkest room. Her eyes? God, you loved losing yourself in those green orbs of hers in the afterglow. And now you had to live without all these little things that made you happy. All the little moments of joy were gone, tuning you into this sack of bones and flesh, with no expectations for life.

It wasn't till much later that night that you left your room, after ignoring your dad's callings.

Padding your way to the bar, you served yourself a whiskey. The burning on your troat a welcomed feeling. Your mind going back to her, as it was the normalcy since she dusted away, leaving you with thousands of questions and a hole in your heart that you knew well you could never fill again. How could you, when you knew she was it? how could you even try to patch it up, when you knew there was no one else like her?

One whiskey turned into 5 and you didn't know when you started to cry, considering you thought there were no tears left after all these years. But the strong hand on your shoulder made you snap from your pity party, hurriedly drying your tears. Crying was for the weak, and boy were you weak.

"I'm sorry," you drowned the last of your drink before looking up, mustering the best stoic face you could.

"You don't need to fake around me, Peanut. We're family," your dad poured you another drink as he got one himself. 

"Look, what happened with your mother has nothing to do with you." He continued once he sat beside you. "And I would never leave you alone, Y/N. No matter how many headaches you give me." He joked but composed himself when you didn't react to it. "I- Pepper is pregnant. And we really want you in the baby's life. But.. Look, if there was a way to bring her back, I would. In a heartbeat. But Y/N, you have to understand, she wouldn't like this version of you. If not for yourself, do it for us,"

You wanted to speak, you wanted to answer him. But the lump in your throat was too big to swallow and the knife in your heart twisted when you saw your dad's eyes tearing up. And fuck did it hurt. To see him cry -for the first time- pained you like hell. And knowing you were the cause of those tears made you feel like you were the worst person alive. 

"I-," you paused to gather your bearings, but your dad beat you to it.

"I know, Peanut," his arms surrounded you in that way that only him could.

"I promise you," he continued once you broke away. "One day, it will get easier. Those feelings will never fully go away, but it will get easier." He dried your tear-stained cheeks softly. "You are not alone. And she'll always be with you,"

 And despite the grief eating you from the inside, you knew you had to live. For them. For her.

The next few months had been a true rollercoaster. You didn't know the abstinence would affect you so badly. And while others would have it much worse, you couldn't help the change of moods and the few tears you caused to those around you. Not to mention, the significant drop in your moods. But you also knew better. You've kept your word, and you hadn't touched it again. 

Under Natasha's supervision, you got rid of every secret stash you had at both, your apartment and your office, and you deleted the number of your dealer. And even if sometimes it seemed like hell would manifest itself as Nat was your watcher, you couldn't be more glad because, admittedly, the woman had balls and she did knew how to bribe you, to the point that you'd even quit drinking even if it was more of a social addiction, in your case. That, mixed with Natasha's friendship and support -as well as those around you- and the birth of Morgan, your little sister had you believing once more, even if you knew you'd never get to be the same person you once were. 

The little bundle of joy had come to this world with a few rays of sunshine for you, finally opening your eyes and making you realize that there was hope. Even if you never saw her again, life was worth living and you'd live it for her at your best capacity. 

So when Pepper asked you to babysit Morgan for a few days, considering she couldn't bring a 2 months old baby with her, you accepted in a heartbeat.

But as you were awoken by a fussing Morgan, after an eventful night in which you barely slept, you realized this might've not been your brightest idea.

Inhaling deeply, you got up and walked to her room, picking her up from her crib and rocking her as you made your way to the kitchen. Babies were a fucking clock. Which only served to add to your decision of never having kids. 

If you were on the verge of tears most of the time, wishing deeply for her parents to come back so you could have time for yourself, you knew you'd be mental if you had to live through this for the rest of your life.

Your ears catching the front door opening made you stop mid singing, turning around as you walked to the hushed words as you feed a calmed down Morgan just to stop dead in your tracks when you saw her. The only reason you stood still, was the baby in your arms. 

Your eyes scanned the room, looking for a sign that this was just a dream. That the image of your girlfriend was just a projection of your mind, like so many other times before during these 5 years since she disappeared from your arms. But the silence surrounding you all and 8 pairs of eyes inspecting you made you realize that this wasn't a dream.

The cries of Morgan took you all from your reverie and soon, Pepper was by your side, taking the baby from your arms before kissing the top of your head, something she always did whenever you felt unsettled.

"Peanut-"

"Is she real?" You questioned as you scrutinized a fidgety Wanda, who stood by the door, ready to run away if needed.

Natasha could sense your turmoil growing with every single second that passed and soon enough you felt a strong pair of arms supporting you, ready to catch you if you fell.

"She's here, Maliska. We brought her back," she spoke quietly, making sure you understood her words.

The wild thoughts on your mind got you walking towards her. The need to touch her and prove yourself that she was back, got your fingers itching. You could feel the blood running in your ears and you shaking steps as you got closer to who you thought was gone forever, leaving you empty and moving through life like a zombie.

The choke that broke through you when your hand cupped her cheek got you smiling as tears rolled down with every erratic thump of your heart.

"You're here," you whispered, afraid of breaking the spell you've found yourself into. 

But you couldn't stay in that thought for long because an intimately familiar pair of arms surrounded you as Wanda threw yourself at you, hiding her face on the crook of your neck.

Feeling her hot breath against your skin was all you needed to finally give in and hold her with all you had, knowing that she was here; with you.

You didn't know how long you both stood there, holding each other and basking in the calmness that surrounded you. All your previous tormenting thoughts dissipated in that exact moment. Wanda was back and you found the hole in your heart start to fill itself.

"Hi, Printsessa," Wanda murmured against your neck, kissing her way up to your jaw, peppering your face with kisses before she finally kissed your lips. And boy, did your knees trembled.

After 5 long years, the lips you've got used to kissing whenever you pleased were once against yours, igniting all the love and hope and good things you got to feel once upon a time.

You can find the continuation, here (:

Taglist: @summergeezburr @wannabe-fic-reader @natasha-danvers @jumbojamba47 @rooskaya-yelena @sananabdliw @aaron-despair @username23345 @nate-the-dreamer @higherfurther-romanova

[rudysrings]

Twin Pogues of the OBX - 1

A/N + Summary: SO I’m currently obsessed with the Outer Banks right now, and I had no idea that there was so much hype about it until I hit tumblr after watching the show. It kind of got me back into writing for a bit so I thought I would go ahead and publish something that’s been sitting in my drafts. It’s essentially a fanfic that goes through the entire show from the perspective of the reader, who is John B’s twin sister. Let me know if it piques anyone’s interest, because I don’t want to keep pushing out something that people hate lol. 

Warnings: Mentions of sex, cursing, slowburn

Word count: 3056

Masterlist

ON WITH IT!

You didn’t want to admit it, but you were tired of listening to the waves. It made you sick to your stomach. It didn’t help that the Chateau was so close to the water that it was all you could hear at night. The waves crashing on the shore. The waves colliding with each other. The waves fighting to topple boats that made the mistake of trying to take on a storm too big for them. 

You listened for your father in every wave. You hoped you’d at least hear the ghost of your father.

Unlike John B, you had no hope that your father was alive. At first, you didn’t bother voicing that thought, but as time went on, and John B continued to have delusions, you started getting more and more vocal about your opinion. Your dad was dead. Period. 

And it was time that John B accepted that, too. 

The two of you may have been twins, but you were as different as two people could get. John B was, for the most part, quiet, reserved and mild. You, on the other hand, had a fuse shorter than the short end of the stick you had pulled. You were hot headed and often misjudged situations too quickly. John B was the calm before your storm. You preferred to call yourself passionate. You smoked, John B did not. You slept around with far too many tourons. John B did not. John B was a dense motherfucker. You could read the room the moment you walked in. The only thing that really bonded the two of you was your love for surfing, your love for the pogues and your love for your dad.

Now that one of those things had died, or simply “vanished,” as John B would say, all that was keeping your two member family together were the pogues and surfing.

The last few months had been hell, and all you wanted this summer, was to have a good time, all the time.

Speaking of which, you and the pogues had decided to break in the summer with a little rule-breaking. Kiara wanted to check out one of Gary’s new beach-house developments, which was being built right over a turtle habitat. You all shrugged at the suggestion and agreed. 

You threw a can of beer up, JJ catching it instantly, wrinkling his nose when he looked at the label. “This is the shit stuff, Y/N,” he complained. 

You rolled your eyes. “Next time I’ll boot-leg champagne for ya, sweetheart,” you drawled.

JJ winked. “That’s more like it.”

Rolling your eyes, you tossed two beers to Pope, which he promptly dropped and bent down to grab, dusting himself off, embarrassed.

You rolled your eyes, watching as he threw one to John B, who was far too drunk to hold onto it, dropping it on the deck of the house, causing it to burst. 

Before you could comment on Kie’s overly concerned “Please don’t kill yourself,” to John B, you heard voices yelling “Hey! What are you kids doing up there?!”

“Shit,” You said, looking for your hat.

“I second that shit,” said Pope nervously.

John B swiftly made his way down, grabbing Kie’s hand and leading them out, Pope on their heels. 

“Guys, have you seen my-”

Suddenly, you felt something slip over your head, and you smiled up at JJ, who patted the top of your head and pushed you down the stairs and out of the house, all five of you laughing as Gary and his men chased after you.

As John B jumped the fence, he held his hand out to help Kie over, doing the same for you once she made it. You rolled your eyes, slapping his hand away and smoothly making it over yourself.

Pope, as expected, fell over onto the ground as he jumped, JJ shoving him further jokingly. You glared at the boy, and he held his hands up as you helped Pope up, pulling him by the hand into a sprint.

JJ held his hand out of John B’s beat up old van, pulling your laughing body in. Pope closed the door as John B gunned it, but you opened it again, teasing Gary, who was struggling to catch up with you guys. 

You tossed him a beer, which he tried to catch, but failed as he stopped running, his hands on his knees.

JJ laughed as he too leaned out of the van, “They don’t pay you enough, bro!” He yelled to Gary.

Your hair blew in the wind, strands of it tickling JJ’s cheeks. 

He spat overdramatically, coughing, “Hey, uh, Y/N? You mind not choking me with your hair?”

You simply gave him a playful punch in the gut, taking a seat in between Kie’s knees, who was sitting on the bench behind John B.

Kie took your long, wild hair in her hands, taming it into a french braid. JJ watched with a goofy smile on his face, his conversation with Pope getting too boring.

John B drove down to the docks, where you guys took out the HMS Pogue for the rest of the day. You tried to slap the book out of Kie’s hands, holding a freshly rolled blunt out for her to share with you, but she glared at you, turning back to her reading. You noticed Pope doing the same thing.

JJ grabbed the blunt from your hands, lighting it. 

You leaned an elbow on his shoulder, tutting. “Didn’t realize we ran with a bunch of nerds…”

Before Kie and Pope could retort, John B turned around, releasing a pile of freshly caught fish onto the deck of the boat and you cheered. “Nice, John B. We eatin’ good, today.”

“Yeah we are. You’re cooking.”

“I’m what?” 

John B smiled smugly, “I did the catching, you do the cooking.”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest, “Fine then I’ll also do more of the eating.”

“I never agreed to that,” John B argued.

You turned to him, “And that’s because you’re a greedy, cocksucking parasite and-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. We’re here to have fun, you guys,” said Kie, her hands out to the two of you.

“Man, I’d really like to go one day without you guys at each other’s goddamn throats,” Pope groaned.

“Forget the fish, there’s a party tonight. First summer party. We gotta be there,” said JJ.

“Hell yeah, I’ll take a touron dick appointment over fish and chips any day,” you put your hands on your hips, looking at the rest of the pogues.

John B rolled his eyes at your blunt words, while Pope and Kie shrugged, agreeing.

Everyone looked to John B and he sighed before saying, “Yeah, I’m down.”

You all cheered, running over and piling on top of him, laughing.

The party was one of the best you had been to yet. While Kiara got on her soapbox about plastic and the boys were looking for girls to flirt with, you were on the hunt for someone who could make your night count.

As you waited in line at the keg to fill up your cup, the guy behind you spoke up. “You look too good to be hanging around the cut.” He flirted.

Your blood boiled as you turned around to get in this guy’s face. You stopped short once you saw what a nice face it was. You weren’t shallow, just… horny. “Am I now?” You smiled slightly.

He nodded, “Oh yes, too good for North Carolina even. The likes of you belong in Hollywood, babe.”

He had neatly trimmed blonde hair and striking blue eyes. Guess you had a type, after all, you thought fleetingly. 

“Wow, can I get a name, kind stranger?” You flashed your teeth.

“It’s Asher ma’am, and you are?”

You shrugged, handing your cup to the guy near the keg, who handed it back within a second, full. You put your hand on Asher’s cheek, tapping it as one would a small child, “Oh, sweetheart, you gotta earn that.”

Asher’s eyebrows rose, walking with you down the beach. “How might I go about that?” He asked, suggestively.

You smirked. “It’s not how, honey, it’s where.”

And that was all you needed to let this guy rock your world that night.

You woke up alone the next morning in the hammock outside the Chateau, having crashed there after the party. Groaning, you rolled over until you fell on the ground, struggling to pick yourself up. John B appeared out of nowhere, helping you up.

He handed you some water, which you downed immediately, his hand on your back.

“You alright, kid?” He asked. You nodded, “Yeah, I just need a shower like yesterday,” You moaned. 

John B nodded, slapping your shoulder. “Next time don’t drink so much, eh?”

You rolled your eyes, flipping him off as you walked inside. You were heading to the bathroom when you passed John B’s bedroom. You noticed JJ, half-naked and leaning over some blonde on your brother’s bed, his forehead practically touching hers. He noticed you instantly. Some emotion flashed across his face before he glared. “Dude, come on. Get outta here,” he said and you smirked.

“Get some, JJ,” you encouraged, barely dodging the pillow he hurled at you as you shut the door.

As you walked into the bathroom, you couldn’t understand why your stomach lurched when you thought about what JJ was probably doing with that blonde in John B’s bed. You shrugged, it was probably just the alcohol.

That afternoon, you and John B had an appointment with social services, who basically confirmed that you two would be put in foster care after they confirmed that your uncle wasn’t home to look after you two tomorrow.

As John B expected, you didn’t take it well. To your credit, you kept it together in the social worker’s office, but you practically had a meltdown the moment you stepped foot outside.

“How can they just fucking take us away! What did we even do wrong? It’s not our fucking fault Uncle T decided to split! Can’t they see that we’re better off on our goddamn own, John B?!” 

John B shrugged. “Not much we can do, Y/N. It’s the law.” 

At that, your breaths came even faster, “But it’s not fair, John B! What if-What if they split us up?” You were almost hyperventilating now, pulling your own hair.

John B furrowed his eyebrows, pulling you into a hug. “They’re not going to do that. I’m not going to let that happen, Y/N, you hear me?”

You pushed him away from you, “We’ll see, John B.”

The two of you caught a break. Hurricane Agatha came in the same day DCS was supposed to do your assessment. Your mind immediately went to the sick waves that would be forming. You tugged on John B’s shirt, pulling him away from the TV, “Call DCS and call them to reschedule. And then grab your surfboard.” Your grin stretched across your whole face, your eyes probably wild.

John B looked confused, then concerned. “You can’t be serious. There’s a hurricane?”

“Dead serious.” You crossed your arms. “Like you can resist these waves.”

John B shrugged. “Yeah, I’m in.”

The two of you ran out to the ocean, the dark clouds and harsh winds not fazing you, Pope having bailed on you guys, claiming that these weren’t surfable waves. 

As you surfed the waves, constantly getting wiped out due to their sheer size and speed, you couldn’t help the thought: Did a wave like this kill Dad?

John B tried to surf a few waves, but he lacked not only your skill, but also your tenacity. He gave up and simply watched you from his seat on his board. 

When you noticed a clearly fancy boat being tossed around in the waves, you pointed it out to John B, who squinted, trying to make it out. He agreed that it was strange. Who would go out in a storm like this?

The next morning, after surveying the damage that Agatha had caused, John B suggested that you guys go fishing, given the likeliness that there would be a whole lot of fish to catch in the marsh today.

Happy to put off cleaning up for a day and high on the fact that DCS wouldn’t be able to catch a ferry down here for at least a couple of days, you agreed. 

After practically kidnapping Pope from his dad and picking up Kiara, the five of you drove down to the marsh, Pope steering. 

Giggling, you pulled JJ by the hand up to the bow of the HMS Pogue and handed him one of the beers that Kiara had brought. He smirked and held it up along with you as he shouted for Pope to go faster. Pope groaned. “We’ve tried this like six thousand times.”

You shook your head. “I’ve got this. It’s gonna work.”

And it did. Kind of. You and JJ were downing your beers, Kiara complaining that it was getting in your hair. You looked over at JJ from your peripheral and smiled slightly at his silly face, mouth open like a fish as he attempted to get all of the beer that was being hurled out of the bottle.

Until the boat lurched to a sudden stop, catapulting you and JJ into the air. You felt your entire body flip as you fell into the water with a loud crash, water surrounding your ears. You broke the surface immediately, blinking against the sunlight. “Fuuuck,” you groaned.

You felt JJ reach you, wrapping an arm around your waist. “You good?” You nodded at him, resting your hands on his shoulders as you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

John B called out, “You good, Y/N? JJ?”

“I think my heels touched the back of my head,” JJ groaned.

You swam back to the boat, JJ right behind you. “Pope, what did you do?” You asked.

Pope looked as confused as the rest of you guys. “Sandbar. Channel changed.”

As you made it onto the boat, JJ pulled himself up, too, saying, “No shit.”

As your clothes were soaked, you slid your shorts and t-shirt off, leaving you in your teal halter bikini. 

You didn’t miss how JJ’s eyes dragged up your figure, his ears turning pink when he reached your eyes and realized you noticed. 

Biting your lip to keep from laughing, you turned to Pope, who had his eyes on something in the water.

“Guys...I think there’s a boat down there,” He said.

John B scoffed, “Shut up.”

Kie smiled, “No way.”

But Pope didn’t let up, “No, no, guys. I’m serious. There’s a boat down there.”

You all leaned over the side of the boat and sure enough, there was a large shadow, vague, but obviously in the shape of the hull of a boat.

“Holy shit. He’s right; let’s go!” You said, jumping into the water. 

As you swam towards the shadow, you heard Pope muse, “You think there’s a dead body down there?”

You couldn’t stop your subconscious from immediately thinking Dad.

You almost threw up at the thought of stumbling across your own father’s drowned corpse.

But you knew that if that was the case, you would handle it far better than John B. You swam faster, trying to get down there before him.

The five of you made your way to the boat, your eyebrows raising against the water as you saw what kind of boat it was. This was a rich guy’s boat for sure. You recognized it as the boat from yesterday. You all took a peek inside, but couldn’t make out a body. You sighed aloud, bubbles releasing in the water. 

As you guys resurfaced, you all laughed. 

“That’s a Grady-White,” JJ laughed in shock, “A new one of those is like 500 Gs, easy.”

You guys climbed back into the boat. John B gave you a look. “That’s the boat we saw when we surfed the surge. Maybe it hit the jetty or something.”

Kie looked confused. “You surfed the surge.”

You smirked. “Well… I surfed the surge. John B mostly just watched.” Your brother rolled his eyes but he didn’t correct you.

JJ was getting on the boat when he heard you say that and his entire face lit up. “Yeah, that’s my girl, pogue style,” he said, giving you a high-five. 

You grinned back, your stomach involuntarily tumbling at the words my girl.

“Fuck,” you whispered to yourself. Kie noticed, shooting you a look.

You blushed, looking away.

Pope asked, “Wait, wait, do we know who’s boat that is?”

John B opened the hatch on the deck of the boat, looking for the anchor inside. “No. but we’re about to find out.”

JJ shook his head, “Dude, it’s too deep.”

“Only for the weak and feeble, JJ,” John B said.

“Well, I’m not resuscitating you. I’m just making that clear up front.”

You worried that there could still be a body down there. Your father’s body. John B couldn’t see that. Plus, something about the thought of diving felt like a challenge. You took the anchor from John B’s hands. “I’ll go,” You said.

“What the fuck, no Y/N,” said John B.

JJ grabbed your upper arm, “Yeah, not a good idea,” he said.

You shook him off lightly. “I’m doing it,” you insisted.

JJ shrugged. “Well, I wouldn’t mind resuscitating you,” he joked.

You rolled your eyes, “You wouldn’t even know how.”

JJ smirked, “Yeah, but I have experience with-”

Pope interjected as you walked to the edge. “Diver down, fool,” he shook his head in slight disappointment. But then again, when was Pope not disappointed in you?”

JJ came over to you. Looking you hard in the eyes, he gave you a questioning look. You steeled your eyes. “I’m ready.”

He smirked, “You better be.” He gave you a shove on your shoulders, pushing you backwards off the bow of the boat and you could hardly hear him say “Diver down,” and John B say, “The fu-” before the water hit you, swallowing you whole as you quickly sunk with the weight of the anchor.

Masterlist

[punkcupcakestyles]

Love Song

Part 16

Catch up!

So, this was skinny dipping

Word count: 20k+

Rushing down the stairs was a bad idea. I knew it as soon as I stepped down into the living room. I could feel pain taking over my body and rising up my spine, and my muscles screamed at me to stop, to just give up. It wasn’t like Harry was looking for me. He hadn’t even left the room, he had let me walk away from him.

And I didn’t know if the void in my chest was because I didn’t care, or because I cared too much. It was a new kind of pain that weighed on my limbs and made my body feel heavy, and as if even breathing drained my energy. My chest burned, feeling tighter with every new breath, and I felt as if everyone around me was looking at me, pointing their fingers and watching as I had a slow meltdown. 

For a second, I thought about giving in and sitting there on the floor so I could cry all of my feelings out. I didn’t need them or had any use for them, no one to pour them out for. Sam was just confused. Harry certainly didn’t give a fuck. Maybe then, I would remember that I was just fine all by myself. And I would remember that love sucked, any-fucking-way. 

“There you are!” If only I had noticed a second before, I would’ve been able to hide, but before I knew, Diana had popped out of nowhere, and she was already making me follow her through the room, as she made her way to the pool, where the lights were brighter, and the air was cleaner. D was wearing a simple blue dress and a leather jacket, and her long blonde hair was thrown into a messy bun. She wasn’t wearing any makeup, and Jesus Christ, she didn’t need it. She looked fucking gorgeous. A tiny little fairy that would bite you if you got too close. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere! Where were you?” She asked accusingly but waved her hand dismissively before I had a chance to answer. “Y’know what? I don’t need to know. C’mon, we need to take photos for the ‘gram.” 

Usually, I would hastily pull my hand away, and roll my eyes at her so she would notice (and ignore) my annoyance, but this time, I followed meekly. Her touch felt so real, and everything else was so blurry and faded, it was almost comforting. Her hand was small and she had her nails painted a greenish-blue and I made a mental note to ask her for the shade name. 

“Are you ok?” She asked as we came to a halt, and she looked at me expectantly with those huge eyes of hers. And I considered telling the truth, I did. I considered telling her that I felt like my heart had crippled into a tiny ball and that I had a sudden, panicky and crushing feeling that I was destined to live without really knowing what it was like to be loved. But that seemed like the kind of conversation that I would rather not have. Ever. 

“Yes,“ I replied, squeezing her fingers lightly between mine, and trying to be reassuring and believable. It seemed like I had failed, cause she glared at me for a second, and opened her mouth as if she was ready to say something. She sighed, and whatever it was that she was to say hung in the air heavily. “Please, don’t say ‘gram,” I joked, as I resisted the urge to swat the air to dissipate the silence that was screaming at me. 

“I’ll think about it,” Diana smiled softly and rolled her eyes playfully, and I relaxed as a result. I was safe. “Now, pose.”

“Say please…” I teased. 

“Oh, fuck off…” That was all I got. 

I hated taking photos, there was always something to criticize, I always had to think about my smile, my hair, my left cheek which was considerably bigger than my right one and it was only noticeable in pictures. But I did as I was told, and smiled brightly at the camera when I was instructed to do so. What was the point in fighting it anyway? It was easier to sell the dream, I had a lot more to gain from it. I was a happy girl, in the middle of a party to celebrate her boyfriend, Harry Fucking Styles. This girl had her head in the clouds. 

“Good, I think I have it. Y’know what? We should go look for Harry so we can take a few with him. Do you think he’ll be up for that?” It was a good thing that Diana was distracted looking at the photos, cause then she couldn’t notice the sheer panic that crossed my face at the mention of Harry’s name.

No, let’s not look for him. 

If I saw Harry, if I spoke to him, I was going to cry, or worse, I was probably going to beg. The idea alone cut my ego like a knife. But most importantly, I already suspected what the answer was going to be, and I didn’t feel like hearing it.  

Funny enough, we both saw him at the same time. He had changed into a buttoned-down shirt and high-waisted pants, and my heart stopped as he looked in my direction, towering over the room from the middle of the stairs. I wasn’t sure if he could see me, but my knees wobbled a bit at the sight of him. Anxiety took over my body and I kept looking at both Harry and Diana, just to see if she would notice if I just ran away. 

“There he is! Jesus, you two are impossible tonight,” D exclaimed, as she started to make her way to him. I bet she didn’t expect me to grab her briskly and pull her back to me, which made her topple on her feet because her eyes went wild and a little bit murderous when she looked at me. “What?” She spat and at that very moment, I realized that I didn’t have a plan, and if I did, I had only gotten to the first part: getting the fuck out of that house. So I smiled stupidly at her, wishing that my brain worked faster. 

“I’m...I’m hungry, D…” I said. Someone had grabbed Harry for a chat, which probably gave me seconds. I had seconds to leave that house. “I want a milkshake. Can we go get one?”

“You’re on a diet, of course not,” Diana said, and she turned back around, ready to go look for Harry. But I was insistent, and my fingers wouldn’t let go of her arm, keeping her right where she was. 

‘You can lose a pound or two’ were the exact words that the producers had used before they sent me to the most in-demand trainer in the city. So sugar was out and lifting weights, doing 100 squats a day and jumping jacks were in.  

“Then, a burger,” I offered brightly. “I can ask for lettuce instead of bread!”

“You can’t eat meat, S. It makes you all bloated and you know it. What’s going on??”

I was willing to risk it. 

“Nothing, I’m just hungry,” I scowled. It didn’t matter anyway, cause I had lost my chance to leave with some of my pride still intact.

Harry seemed tired and pissed, I could feel the intense waves that rolled off his body as he looked at me. The hinges of his jaw popped up, he was clenching his teeth so hard. A chill ran down my spine and I struggled to look away from him. So our eyes met and I felt myself getting paralyzed as I looked at him getting closer to me. 

I was fully aware that I was an insufferable idiot and that nothing was going to happen. Nor Harry Styles, the singer, or Sofia Welsh-De La Rosa, the actress, could afford the scandal or the unbridled media attention. No, we preferred to control the narrative, it made us look like we had our lives together. So we would simply end the night with smiles and heart eyes on our faces, to Diana, Midge, and Jeff’s delight, and go our separate merry ways as soon as we could.

If he needed me, he could call Diana, and if I needed him...well, I was going to do everything in my power to not need him. 

I took a deep breath to steady myself and repeated mentally that everything was ok. I just needed to play the role, cause that was what everyone was expecting from me: To play the role I had been hired for. Somewhere along the way, I had forgotten that and I was the only one to blame. There was nothing more, even the nights I had spent in his bed meant nothing. I was filling empty spaces, taking a place so it wouldn’t go cold. His sweet words were meant for another girl. His touch just meant to keep him occupied. And I was playing a role, nothing more. 

So, I breathed out and smiled brightly at him, as brightly as the hole in my chest would allow. I had to remember that Harry’s girlfriend was not heartbroken, she didn’t feel the need to cry cause she had gotten her stupid hopes up. She was happy and she was loved by the man in front of her. Everything was right in her world. 

“Hi,” I whispered as Harry stood next to me, and I leaned to him, brushing my lips against his cheek. His breath was sharp and shallow and I could feel it fawning over my skin when he looked at me. It made the little hairs on the nape of my neck stand at attention. Silly me, it almost seemed as if he wanted to kiss me. 

“Can we talk?” He asked in the same whispering tone.

“No.”

“Sof…” Harry sighed, and I chose to ignore him, still smiling at him, which probably frustrated him to no end. 

“D wants to take photos of us. Do you mind?” I asked instead. 

Diana seemed like she didn’t want to get caught in the middle of it, and she cleared her throat awkwardly, looking everywhere but us. It was unlike her, because under normal circumstances, she would be tapping her foot, and crossing her arms over her chest as she impatiently pushed us into place. Right now, she stood there, looking at us and doing nothing of the sort. 

“Well, I, uh, I thought maybe I could take some pictures of you guys acting like a couple, like candids, but, uh, we don’t have to do that,” She said. “But it’s ok if you don’t want to. It seems like you guys have stuff to deal with.”

“I don’t want to,” Harry confirmed. “And Sof, please, let’s talk.”

“We’re good, Harry. We have nothing to talk about,” I said and mentally patted myself on my back for not letting my voice wobble. Harry, on the other hand, didn’t look so happy, not even as I smiled adoringly and sweetly at him. His angry stance was coming back, the kind of anger that bubbles under your skin and waits for the right moment to explode. So I was careful as I looped my arms around his neck, and swayed a bit, my eyes focusing on the small freckle next to his lip. If I leaned closer just an inch, I could kiss it. I could kiss him, slowly and sweetly. 

My knees wobbled again when Harry looked at me. 

Being so close to him was not a good idea, cause he smelled sweet and clean, and his blue shirt was soft to the touch, and for a second there, I pictured myself wearing it wide open, with only a pair of pink lace panties, while I lied on his bed. He would hover over me, pressing kisses on my supple skin as he settled himself between my legs. 

Stop. 

“Then, let me talk.”

His fingers burned little holes on my skin wherever he touched me, and I struggled to pull myself back to reality. I had nowhere to go to, he was all-encompassing, all I could breathe and see. 

“I don’t wanna hear it, Harry. I just want something to show on my Instagram feed, keep people talking.”

“Why would we do that?” Harry’s smile was sad as if he already knew the answer and he didn’t like it, not one bit. 

“Cause that’s how PR relationships work. You need promo, and so do I, so why not?”

“Don’t say that…”

“Oh, I wasn’t the one that said it.”

“Sof…”

“It’s ok. I’m not mad.” As the words rolled off my tongue, I knew I wasn’t lying. I wasn’t mad, I was something else. “But I get it if you don’t want to. I don’t want to get you in trouble with your girlfriend. So maybe I should go.”

“Don’t.”

“And maybe we should keep this as professional as we can. If you need me, you should call Diana. And, uh, yeah, I need to go.” The air was faltering, and I was not going to be able to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill down.

I noticed that Diana stopped Harry from following me, which I was incredibly thankful for. I rushed through the room, and barely made it out and into my car before the panic came. 

It was alright. Everything was just fine. 

****

Sofia Welsh died alone, leaving behind 4 ex-spouses, no kids, and 4 cats she was allergic to, Eeny, Meeny, Miney and Mo. The time and manner of her death remain unknown. A neighbor called the police after the stench coming from her house became unbearable. The myth about her cats eating her face was just that, a myth...

I was going to be a tragic story from Hollywood, wasn’t I? Ryan Murphy would lick his fingers just thinking about it. 

****

@H

Baby, are you ok?

****

@H

Sof, I’m worried, please answer. 

****

@D

Are you ok?

Please let me know if I should reschedule your training this week. 

****

@H

I know you’re mad and it’s my fault, but I can explain

Can I go to your house? It feels like you’ve never told me if I’m allowed to. 

****

@Midge

Let’s talk about your idea of going back to college. I think we can get you into a really good one if you’d like. 

Did you like the car I sent you? You haven’t said anything about it. 

****

@D

Where are you?

****

@Sam

Wanna hang out? I'm bored…

Pizza and Hocus Pocus? It is October after all.

****

@Midge

Fenty wants you for their new underwear campaign. I think it’s a good move. Let’s chat on Friday, lunch’s on me. 

****

@D

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME, SOFIA? WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?

DO NOT MAKE ME GO TO YOU HOUSE LOOKING FOR YOU

CAUSE I WILL

****

@Sam

I just called Cat, she told me you haven’t left your room in days, are you ok?

****

@H

I know it’s late, but I can’t fucking sleep until I talk to you.

****

Good, I couldn’t sleep either. 

I wasn’t even sad, I didn’t feel a fucking thing, but in the worst way possible, where everything hurts, but you just cannot point to what hurts the most, so I was stuck there, suffocating and gasping for air like a fucking dying fish.

I kept watching Schitt’s Creek reruns. The colors from the tv show kept blending in and I looked at it for the first time in a while, wondering how many episodes I had “watched” by now. Mostly, I had been staring at the wall, as I tried to be good and quiet, so slumber would finally come to me. And it did, a few times actually, only to be chased off by the dizzying nightmares. 

I knew I had fallen asleep cause sometimes, when I opened my eyes there was food on my bedside table, a steaming bowl of soup, mac and cheese (no milk, no butter, not too much cheese), broccoli and carrots with chicken and hummus, and every other dish that my nutritionist had previously approved. One time there was even a piece of oreo cheesecake, with the gooey chocolate sauce tempting me to eat it right away. Maybe with a scoop of ice cream. 

I didn’t know if I had eaten any of it. I probably hadn’t. 

4 days without sleep can do mean things to your brain. 

***

Sam could read my thoughts, I was sure of it. 

I opened the door to my room and smiled when I saw him, with his boyish smile that made his eyes crinkle and the stupidly deep dimples on his cheek, standing in front of me. He was wearing a nice button-down shirt, black jeans, and a pair of Air Jordans I had gotten him for his birthday, thinking he looked fly as hell. I still thought they were the ugliest shoes I had ever seen, but Sam seemed to love them. He was holding a medium-sized tube of ice cream, and a plate of freshly done and gooey dark chocolate brownies, my favorites. But it was late, and I probably shouldn’t eat any of it if I wanted to have even the smallest chance of sleeping that night

“Hey,” he whispered and I stepped to the side to let him and closed the door behind him.

“You do know I’m on a diet, right?” I asked him. Sam was already taking his shoes off and propping his feet on my bed, to make himself comfortable. 

“We don’t need to tell anyone.”

“So, the calories won’t count?”

“Of course not. They only count if you worry about them.”

“I don’t think that’s quite how it works.” The corner of my lips twisted into a smile and I made my way to sit on my side of the bed. There was a large space between us, and we both settled on, lying on a sea of pillows. Sam put his hands over his tummy and I could see them rising every time he breathed deeply. 

We stayed quiet for a while, while Sam looked for the exact movie he wanted. When he landed on Hocus Pocus, a childish grin curled up his lips and he turned to me as if he was waiting for me to approve his choice. We had watched Hocus Pocus at least 1,000 times since we were kids, just as we had watched every Halloween themed choice ever since, a tradition that we now shared with my mom and Cat.  

“You look handsome,” I told him. The smell of the brownies made my tummy grumble and I finally caved in, picking the corner of it to eat it. It was still warm, and the outside was crunchy, while the inside was gooey and soft. 

“I was supposed to have dinner with Annie.”

“Oh, what happened?” I asked, pretending that it didn’t bother me. It shouldn’t bother me. But sadness fluttered in my tummy and there was nothing I could do to stop it or understand it. 

“You didn’t answer my texts.” Sam turned to me, with a sheepish smile already on his face. “And Diana called me to ask if I had seen you, so I guessed it was serious and came to check on you.”

“Oh...I’m sorry…”

“It’s ok, Sof. At least, I wasn’t the only one you were ignoring this time.”

“I, uh, I wasn’t ignoring you, Sam.”

“Yeah, you were, but it’s alright. I’m guessing I should figure out the answer all by myself.”

“Sam, I…”

I didn’t know what I was going to say. I just started letting the words out of my lips before I could form an actual answer in my brain. But before I could do that, a crashing sound cut me off, and I was up on my feet even before the echo stopped ringing in the air. Sam followed me, running down the stairs just as fast as I was.

Anxiety had my brain working as fast as it could go, and the worst scenarios flashed in front of my eyes: fire, burglars, floodings, and even a tornado, they all took over my brain for a microsecond. So when we finally got to the end of the stairs, I thought my brain was maybe playing tricks on me. 

Harry was crouched on the floor, as he picked up the shards of a green mug. A dark liquid had spilled all over, and Cat was looking down at him, as red as she could get, while my mom muttered rushed excuses to the boy in front of her, helping him get the broken pieces before someone could get hurt.

“I’m so sorry, you don’t have to do this,” she assured him, but he just shook his head and smiled, that dashing, fucking pretty smile of his, and handed her the pieces he had collected. “It’s alright,” he said, and I felt my knees wobble at the sound of his voice. It was just as sweet and soothing as I remembered it. “It was my fault anyway, I startled Cat.”

What the fuck was going on?

“Oh, honey, there you are!!” my mom exclaimed as she finally noticed my presence. She was standing next to Harry, wearing a bright yellow cardigan over a white t-shirt and a pair of black leggings. Her hair was in one of Cat’s braids, a perfect crown around her head. She seemed happy, her cheeks were a little bit flushed and she looked at Harry with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Look who’s here to see you,” my mom said, almost teasingly. “I was about to call you, but Cat had a little accident.”

The culprit was standing by my mom’s side, as quiet as she could be. Her face was still crimson red, and she was looking down at the floor, unwilling to look at us, especially at Harry. Cat was no longer a kid, she was getting as tall as my mom, and she even used some of my clothes, a full teen among us. But it was as if she wanted to make herself as small as she possibly could right now. 

“It was my fault,” Harry mumbled, but his mind was elsewhere. It was on Sam and me, and the fact that we had come down the stairs together, that it was so late at night and I was just wearing pajama shorts and a loose crop top. Any other time, I would have ventured to say that he was jealous. 

“So, Sam, darling, come with me, help me with dessert,” My mom called and Sam obeyed meekly. “I’m guessing you’re staying for dinner, Harry.”

“I wouldn’t want to be a bother…” Harry smiled at my mom and she beamed right back before she looked at me pointedly. I knew exactly what I was supposed to say. 

“You won’t,” I said to her delight. “It’ll be a pleasure,” I added, just for kicks. Harry smiled at Cat and my mom and excused himself before he followed me upstairs. 

“What do you want?” I asked him as soon as we reached my room and we were out of earshot from my family. 

I had never pictured Harry standing in my room, with his graphic t-shirt and his blue jeans. But there he was, gazing around my pink duvet and lavender pillowcases. He looked at the photo on my nightstand, a picture of my mom, Cat, and I, with the Eiffel Tower shining tall behind us. I had taken us to Paris as soon as I had the money to, and we walked around like crazy, pigged out on overpriced macaroons in a fancy store on Champs Elysées, and got back to our fancy hotel rooms completely knackered every night, with our feet swollen from how much we had walked. My dad had taken us to Paris before, but this time we did it as free women...and Cat. I fucking loved that photo. 

“I was worried,” Harry said.

“You didn’t have to worry.”

“You don’t worry because you have to, you worry because you fucking do,” he shrugged. “And you didn’t answer my texts or calls. And I get you’re ignoring me, but…I just wanted to make sure that you were ok.”

“I’m fine.” I crossed my arms over my chest and sat on my bed, refusing to look at him, with that sweet smile of his, and the concerned frown that formed on his forehead. He had no fucking business looking like that. He had no right to make me feel so much. 

“I’m sorry I interrupted your date.”

“It’s ok,” I replied. I didn’t feel like correcting him, because if I did, I might have to accept the fact that I had spent my days weeping about losing him, and that was not necessary at all.

“But uh, D told me we should set a date to end things. I figured I should talk to you first.” 

Set a date. Oh.

I knew that was the logical step to take, so we could move on with our lives. That way Harry could go back to her, and I...well, I could go back to whatever the fuck I was doing before. Setting a date just made it real. 

The smart part of my brain knew that my heart couldn’t break, it couldn’t do that, not out of love. But still, I could feel it breaking into a billion pieces, and the little shards poking around my chest, so it hurt just a little bit more. 

“I think you should talk to D,” I said, short and to the point, because if I talked too much, I was probably going to cry. And by now, I was fucking tired of crying. 

“Why? I’m not in a relationship with Diana. I don’t give a fuck what she thinks.”

“Technically, you’re not in a relationship with me either,” I offered him a small smile, rubbing my hands on my side in a nervous manner. His eyes followed them and he opened up his mouth to say something, but let a sigh out instead and ran his fingers through his already messy hair. 

“Then be my girlfriend, Sof,” he said softly, just as he gazed up to me. His words caught me by surprise, and I looked at him in astonishment. My heart had lodged itself in my throat, and I had to make an effort to take a deep breath. 

“Don’t be unfair, Harry,” I muttered. I wanted to laugh, but it came out like a dry chuckle, too sad and unhappy to fool anyone. “You need to figure things out before you can ask me that.”

“No,” Harry smiled, softly and sweetly, and I felt my heart break again if that was even possible. “And I’m not being unfair, I’m just…” He stopped when he looked at me, and he bit on the corner of his lips, mulling over his words before he let out a heavy sigh. “I sleep better when I’m with you, and whenever you’re not with me, I miss you and I wanna hear your voice. And I know you do too, ‘cause I hold you tight when you’re having those bad dreams, and I wish you would just open up to me and tell me what those are about, cause I fucking worry. And I know I can’t yell or talk too loud to you, because you’ll get scared, and that you like to pretend you’re living a simple life cause you’re scared about losing everything, but you still rehearse your Oscar’s speech in the shower. And I know you will do anything for the people you love, even telling me to go back to my ex, cause you think that’ll make me happy. So, no, I don’t need to figure it out. I want you to give me a chance.”

No words would come out of my mouth. Not even a sound. I looked at Harry with scarily big eyes, I was sure of it, and remained in my spot on the bed. My fingers curled around the covers and I made a ball out of the fabric, only to smooth it out nervously.

“Sof…Look at me.” I did as I was told, looking at Harry in the eye as he got closer to me until he was standing between my legs and I noticed that there were people having sex in his shirt. He crouched in front of me, and his fingers pressed softly to my thighs, burning tiny holes in my skin. My tongue darted to my lips and I closed my eyes when he took my hands in his. His touch felt so right, so calming and lovely. “Talk to me.”

I was trapped in a vicious circle. His presence made my tummy tight, and I wished for nothing more than to kiss him, slowly, lavishly. Hold his hands and let them embrace me. I was hungry for his touch. But I was also fucking scared, so much that it was numbing. I didn’t know what to do with all of these feelings, didn’t have anyone to look up to when it came to them. If I thought about my mom, well, that wasn’t ideal, selfishness and pain, unrequited love, and a toxic relationship. Most of my life I had spent pining over Sam and even that had been a fantasy. And then came Harry, in all of his glory and all of his brightness, with his sweet kisses and the way he made me feel, and it was so easy to let myself fall. But he chose her, even when he didn’t, and I felt like a second choice secured in a transactional agreement. And it made me feel sick. 

But the thought of letting him go made me feel even worse. 

When Cat opened the door, she found us just like that, holding hands and staring at each other as I struggled to come up with words. She cleared her throat because that was the polite thing to do, and I felt relieved to have found a way out. 

What was I supposed to say? I still didn’t have an answer for that. Cause a part of me wanted to jump into his arms, but the other part, the loudest one, was so fucking scared, I wanted to protect her and tell her everything was just fine. 

“Dinner’s ready,” she said, smiling shyly as she closed the door behind her. 

Fuck. 

My mom was expecting me and my boyfriend to come to join them for dinner, even if I had never told her that Harry was my boyfriend. I wouldn’t even know how to start that conversation, if I was being honest, I had never even admitted to my mom that I liked anyone. My feelings were usually in a box, primly tucked away and safe from everyone. They didn’t matter, cause they were usually unrequited, silly and juvenile, not something to make a fuss about. This time was no different, other than the fact that I was willing to shove whatever feelings I had into the deep end of the box, unlabeled and unexplained until I could forget about them.

“Harry... Could I ask for a favor?”

“You need me to pretend everything’s fine?” He said, not missing a beat as I let his hands go to get up from the bed. I picked up the ice cream tube and the plate of brownies, trying to get myself busy so I wouldn’t have to look at him for too long. If I did, I knew that my knees would tremble. 

“Please...I know it’s weird...”

“Sure. It looks like this is the last time I’ll get to see you, so I don’t give a fuck about weird,” Harry shrugged, and his words took a moment to sink in, making me stop and turn to look at him when they finally did.  

“What do you mean?” I asked, but I didn’t need an answer. Panic was already starting to settle in my bones, making my heart pound so loudly, I could hear the beat. 

“I won’t beg, Sof,” he said simply. He wouldn’t beg and I was a fucking idiot. He didn’t need to add that last part for me to know it was true. A gigantic idiot. 

So, I did the only thing that occurred to me: I got mad. Put the plate and ice-cream down and crossed my arms over my chest as I frowned at him. I looked offended, outraged as if I had the right to be any of those things. 

“But we have a deal, Harry!” I exclaimed and Harry smiled softly at me. He was tired. I was tiring, I knew that. 

“You’re released, Sof. We don’t have to do this anymore.”

“I am a woman of my word, Harry,” I bit, haughtily. “I don’t need to be released. I know you’re in a hurry to rekindle your relationship, but…”

“Oh, fuck off, Sofia,” he cut me off, and I pretty much had to run to keep up with him, as he made his way to the kitchen, where my family was already sitting around the kitchen island. 

Dinner was already served, and plates of pasta and salad were waiting for us. We usually had dinner around the kitchen island, where we had placed six comfortable velvety blue dining chairs, just in case we had any visitors, and I sat in front of Cat and between my mom and Sam if he was around. This time, we were assigned the two seats by the end of the row, right next to Sam. Harry took the spot next to Sam and put his arm on the back of my chair, as he smiled sweetly at me. No one would ever believe that we had been arguing just a few moments before. 

“So, Harry,” my mom said, as she served herself a whole lot of salad, and put almost as much on Cat’s plate. “I’ve been told you’re a singer.”

“I am,” Harry smiled at her, sincerely and warmly. Perhaps he wasn’t used to people not knowing exactly who he was. “I used to be in a band, and now I’m doing my own thing. Have you ever been to a concert, Cat?”

My sister, who was in the middle of biting a huge piece of spinach, was completely taken by surprise by the question, and she put the fork down before gulping largely. Her cheeks were pink and she looked at me for a second, before she looked back at Harry. 

“I went to 1D’s last concert in L.A. Sam took me. Sof was supposed to come with me, but she couldn’t make it,” she said cautiously, readying herself with details in case Harry wanted to check on her story. But Harry looked at me, with a huge grin already curling up his lips. 

“I thought you didn’t know who I was. But you liked me enough to go to one of my concerts, uh?”

Well, that was not exactly what I said. 

“I told you Cat liked your music. And I got the tickets for cheap.” That was definitely not true. They were expensive as fuck, poor little me had to work two shifts forever to pay them up. 

“Oh, c’mon, baby, gimme this,” Harry chuckled and I rolled my eyes, licking my lips and sighing in feigned annoyance before I gave in. 

“I had to save a lot because back then I was a waitress, and I was trying to become an actress and go to college, so every penny counted. But, it didn’t matter, cause Cat and I wanted to go to that concert. That day, I, uh, I worked a day-long shift, cause I was taking the next day off, and I had gotten a call for a really small part in a movie, and they wanted to shoot that afternoon. They told me that I would be in and out in an hour, cause they just wanted to reshoot a small scene, and it had to be quick, but the actress was so drunk, she could barely stand, much less say her lines, so we had to do about 1,000 takes, and we were there forever. So I couldn’t make it to the concert, but, uh, the director told me I was a real champ, and she called me for her next movie, and...here I am…”

“So, I could’ve met you all those years ago,” Harry told me, a small, sweet and sincere smile spreading on his lips. 

“Oh, no, we didn’t have backstage tickets,” I shook my head and laughed, cocking my head to the side as Harry took my hand in his and laced our fingers on top of the counter. 

“I would’ve noticed you in the crowd,” Harry insisted. “You and Cat would have been the prettiest girls in the crowd, I wouldn’t have been able to take my eyes off of you, baby.”

Cat blushed up to her ears. My mom smiled delightedly. I rolled my eyes. 

I would’ve kissed him. I should have kissed him. 

“He is charming,” my mom said, reminding us that they were still there. “And he knows what to say.”

Harry didn’t let my hand go until we started eating and even then, his hand rested on my thigh, the bare skin of my legs covered with goosebumps. I forgot about everything else, about his question and my fears, and I allowed myself to enjoy dinner, and the warmth of the room, and the comfort of Harry’s touch. I felt sleepy and full, and I leaned to him, pressing my forehead to his shoulder as I sighed. He was sweet and familiar, and he was so close that I could press my lips to the curve of his neck. 

I was too satisfied, so much that I could almost ignore the scowl on Sam’s face.

“Harry, would you like to join us to watch a movie?” My mom asked as we finished eating, and after Harry insisted on helping with the dishes. Cat and I were sharing a brownie, while Sam seemed to be incredibly interested in whatever was happening on his phone. “We like to watch Halloween movies in October, and Sam and Sof were watching Hocus Pocus, but I think we could give The Witches a chance tonight. Or maybe Halloweentown.”

“I don’t think I’ve watched any of those,” Harry said, going back to his place next to me and stealing a piece of my brownie.  

“Oh, my God! How could you not have watched The Witches or Halloweentown?” I asked, appalled by the information. 

“I don’t think I have, no.”

“We can no longer be friends, Harry.” 

This made him smile mischievously, and a shiver ran up my spine as he looked at me, leaning back until I could feel his warm breath fanning over my skin. “It’s a good thing we’re not just friends, then,” Harry whispered and my skin covered with goosebumps when his lips softly brushed mine, and he kissed me lightly before he pulled away. 

I was hot red, I was sure of it, I could feel the heat surging from my face, and Harry was enjoying it. His lips were still curled in a wicked smile, which got bigger as Sam looked away from us. 

We didn’t have a proper movie room as Harry did. But we had a ridiculously big TV screen and a comfortable couch full of pillows and blankets, where we usually cuddled up to each other and watched movies and ate pizza. So we went there, and my mom offered a velvety blue blanket to Harry and me, so we could share it. Cat brought popcorn, M&M, sorted nuts, and lemonade, and settled them in the large coffee table in front of the couch, so we could serve ourselves. 

I don’t think I made it to half of the movie before I fell asleep, cuddled up to Harry’s chest, and with his arms looped around my waist. It was easy to do, much easier than when I was by myself. I was lulled by his breathing, and by the lovely warmth of his body. I could feel the rumbles of his chest whenever he talked, and the sweet brush of his lips when he pressed soft kisses on top of my head. 

So when the movie came to an end and we had to get up, my body refused to let him go, and I kept our fingers intertwined as I leaned into his hug. I made him wait until everyone went to their room, as we laid on the couch, cuddled up to each other. 

“Stay,” I whispered as soon as we were alone. I couldn’t see Harry’s face, cause my mom had a whole thing about leaving lights on, but I knew he was looking at me, his whole attention focused on that tiny word. “Please.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, we don’t have to do anything...I just...I’m having nightmares…”

“And you want me to cuddle you to chase them away?”

“Yes.”

“Then, I’ll stay,” he replied and I nodded, cause there was no need to say anything else. 

****

I didn’t have nightmares. Not one. I slept through the night. 

But this was not a typical morning with him. Usually, I would wake up to his kisses, softly pressed to my shoulders, my forehead, my nose, my lips, everywhere he could reach. Usually, he liked to play in the morning, if time allowed. 

It was different this time. He had already woken up and was on his phone. Sleep was still etched on his eyes, and he rubbed them lightly, with a little pout on his lips. He was shirtless, and the sheets were pooling around his waist, and even though I knew he had boxers on, black, tight, fucking inviting, it almost seemed like he was naked. I felt like a creepy intruder. 

“Hi,” I mumbled, bringing the sheets up to my chest as I turned to my side to look at him. Sitting like he was, I could focus on his profile, the sharp edges of his jaw, the couple of freckles that adorned his face, and the way his nostrils flared up a bit around the pointy tip. I liked it when he smiled, but that seemed like a lot to ask under the circumstances. 

“Hey,” Harry replied, putting his phone down on his lap to look down at me. “Did you get some sleep?”

“Yeah...thank you.”

“Why would you thank me?” He asked, chuckling lightly and looking at me with curiosity. 

“For staying,” I said earnestly. “You were right, I do sleep better when you’re around. How about you?”

“I hadn’t slept in 3 or 4 days. I slept through the night yesterday.”

“That’s inconvenient, isn’t it?” 

“What is?”

“That I can only sleep when I’m next to you,” I said in a low breath, lying on my back to avoid looking at him. I didn’t say ‘we’, I didn’t want to assume, or have him correct me and tell me he slept just fine without me. That he had plenty of choices, he was going to survive me. 

“It is,” Harry replied quietly. He looked at his hands for a second, remaining quiet as he gnawed on his bottom lip. “Do you want me to leave?” He asked and I didn’t even need to think about it to know the answer. No, I didn’t want him to leave. It almost looked like he belonged right there, in my room, in my bed, spending his morning with me.

“I think my mom expects you to stay for breakfast, would you mind?”

“No. But that’s not what I asked, Sof. Do you want me to stay?”

“Yes,” I replied in a low voice. Harry nodded and didn’t say another word, but he visibly relaxed and let himself sink a little bit further into the covers, getting closer to me as he did so. I relaxed as well, just now noticing how tense and stiff I was, almost as if I was holding my breath, gauging if I had to run or if I could stay. It was out of habit, the survival instinct kicking in. I wasn’t afraid, though, I knew what fear felt like. 

“So, I’m the first boy you bring home...” he said teasingly, and this time he gifted me with the hint of a mischievous smile. 

“I didn’t bring you home, you came all by yourself.”

“I needed to know you were alright, I was going a bit crazy. And you asked me to stay, and that’s kind of the same thing, innit?”

“Yes, it is. So far, you’re the only person that’s ever mattered enough.”

“So far?”

“Well, once you leave, I’m gonna have to move on, don’t you think?”

Harry rolled to his side until he was lying next to me, and if I turned my head, our noses could almost touch. The air got hotter, and the fiery tension grew around us as I looked at him. His skin looked so tan against the pastel colors of my sheets, and his wicked smile made me shiver all the way down to my curling toes. 

“I’ve already asked you to be my girlfriend, Sof. I don’t know what else you want from me. Do you want me to swear I will adore you? Cause I can do that.”

“I just want you to be happy, H,” I said. I turned my face and looked at the ceiling, just in case I would cry. “It doesn’t matter if it’s not with me. And I’m pretty sure your heart's not in it.”

“I don’t think it’s fair you get to say where my heart is, Sof.”

“I know. But I’m sure you’re gonna thank me.”

“You’re fucking impossible, Sofia,” Harry grunted and I nodded, cause there was nothing he could say to me that I hadn’t already told myself. I bit my bottom lip and grabbed his hand in mine, with barely enough pressure for him to feel my touch, but still, so he could pull it away if he wanted to. I was hoping he wouldn’t. 

“I’m sorry, Harry,” I said. “Please, don’t go. Not yet.”

****

Harry requested my presence every day that week. Most of the time, there weren’t paps around, not even one. Sometimes, we spent time in his house, or Jeff’s, and no one could see us, other than a small group of his friends or his band. 

Diana called it an organic outing, where we relied mostly on candid pictures taken by unsuspecting people. It was better, she said, because it made it seem like a real thing, and not like a desperate attempt to call attention by calling the paps on yourself. She said people could usually tell. 

Harry didn’t really need me, and that night it wasn’t any different, but there I was, smiling to his friends and sitting on a pile of pillows, while I listened to Alexa Chung as she told me about the many times she had seen him naked “by accident”.

There was plenty of food, I had made sure of it, I had put together different tapas and bowls. Whatever I could not get in Harry’s fridge, I ordered and hid the packaging away, which made it seem like I could make sushi and that Harry was enough of an adult to have enough things in his fridge to make a small plate with hummus, pita, and some olives and a really nice cheese board and even mini-sliders that I had made out of scratch (and brioche buns that I had found in a fancy bakery around Harry’s house). It wasn’t all that pretty, and I was sure my mom would be disappointed by my hosting abilities, but I managed, and that’s what matters.

I couldn’t stop stealing looks at Harry, and smile whenever I found him already looking at me. He looked like a fucking Disney prince, with dark, curly hair and emerald eyes. His tattooed arms only added to his charm, the way his ink spilled skin looked against the crispy white of his shirt. 

It had been 9 days, 13 hours, and a few minutes since we had last kissed.

His arms were probably my favorite part of his body. Or maybe it was his thighs, or his eyes and the way they glinted mischievously when they looked at me. Perhaps, my favorite part was his dimples and their simple stubbornness, shining through his cheeks even when he tried to maintain a serious expression. I was also very fond of his lips and his sweet taste when he kissed me. He was fucking glorious and he knew it. 

I had lost count on how many beers I had had already. Maybe 3, but they could easily be 5. I wasn’t much of a drinker. My vision was already blurry and I let my body sway from side to side as I watched everyone enjoy the food and the alcohol we had served. It was a birthday party but I still had no fucking idea who was I supposed to congratulate, so I just smiled stupidly at everyone, just in case. It seemed like my safest bet. 

Harry took his time to join my little group. He was happy when he did so, and he sat next to me, draping his right arm around my shoulders. I took that as an opportunity to get closer to him, leaning back to his chest as I molded myself to his body. Harry’s hand dropped to my waist and went under my shirt, the warmth of his fingertips making me smile as he pinched my skin between them. He giggled and for a second I couldn’t breathe, I liked him so much. 

Harry hadn’t asked again and I hadn’t given him an answer, and it surrounded us like a heavy fog that didn’t allow us to see any further than our own noses, not even each other. I could feel it in the last couple of days when he would barely talk to me when we were alone and most of our interactions were reserved for other people. But it felt nice to spend some time with him, and I took whatever I could get. I was the one that fucked up, anyway. 

But tonight, it almost felt real, we were us, and I could enjoy the warmth of his body and the soothing richness of his voice. 

“Alexa’s telling me about the time you went skinny-dipping in Italy,” I told him. “But I’m not sure I want to hear any more stories about her and my naked boyfriend.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Sugar,” Alexa smiled, looking at Harry and then at me as if she was confirming her statement before making it. “He’s all yours.”

Oh, Sugar had lots to worry about. Her stupidity most of all.

“You should try it,” he whispered, as his friends fell into a comfortable chat and they forgot about us. 

“Getting naked in front of other people?”

“It’s quite liberating,” Harry smiled and I turned to look at him, with narrowed eyes and a teasing smile. 

“I don’t know, it sounds like one of those things that’s a lot more fun when you’re with someone else. So, I’d have to find someone to want to get naked with me first.”

“As much as I hate to say it, I don’t think you’ll have a problem finding someone to join you,” he told me and I shook my head in response. 

“Mmmm, maybe, but I don’t want someone else,” I whispered. 

If he had something to say, I didn’t get to hear it. We looked at each other for a moment, remaining silent as we did so. We knew better than to have this conversation while surrounded by so many people.

3 hours later, we were finally alone. I was trying to tidy up around the house while Harry talked to his few last guests and walked them to their Lyfts. Once they left, and no one was able to see me, I would be free to go as well, to my empty bed and my recurring nightmares.

We weren’t spending our nights together, and I missed him terribly. 

“Sof?” I heard his voice before I could see him. He was smiling softly at me, and I stood there, in the middle of his living room, just looking at him as he made his way to me. 

“Sorry,” I said with a lopsided smile, one that gave away the slight buzz of alcohol that still ran through my veins. “I’ll leave...” But Harry was still smiling when he took my hand, and I felt the electricity that vibrated out of his skin. It felt like a game, following him around the house until we reached the pool. It was a chilly night.

Harry let my hand go as he went to take his shirt off. His tanned skin glimmered under the moonlight and I let myself enjoy his taut body, taking notice of every tattoo that adorned his skin. I was almost done counting them when Harry took his jeans off, followed by his black boxers. 

He was naked, completely so, and I could only stare at him as if it was the very first time I had seen him like that. I was drinking him, devouring his naked body with my eyes as if it were the last time I got to see it. And maybe it was. 

“Are you gonna let me get naked alone, baby?” Harry teased and I saw him as he dove into the pool, splashing around like a cannonball. It was only then that I reacted, my fingers flying to my lace shirt to pull it off over my head and letting my boyfriend jeans fall to my ankles. 

Harry stared at me from the pool, smirking as he watched me unhook my bra and pull my panties off and kick them so they joined the rest of my clothes. I was way more careful than him when I got into the pool and I waded to him, standing there with a shy smile as I shivered from the cold water. 

So this was skinny dipping. 

We didn’t talk, because doing so would mean that we would have to stop kissing, and I didn’t want that. I was the first one to give in, crashing my lips to his and hooking my legs around his hips as his hands settled on my waist. It was a fucking good kiss, one that made me shiver down my spine and sigh against his lips as the taste of them flooded my mouth. 

The water swayed us, and I could feel his naked skin against mine, my chest squeezed against him, and his cock pressed against my center. 

“I can feel your heartbeat,” Harry whispered, and his words grazed over my skin, at the same time he trailed sweet kisses down my jaw, my neck, my collarbones. If I let him go, just a bit, he would have been able to continue his way down my body, but I wanted to kiss him more, just to make up for all of the kisses I had missed already. 

So, I kissed him slowly and smiled clumsily every time Harry would kiss me harder, igniting a fire in the depths of my tummy, that made me press myself closer to him, so I could feel every inch of his body against mine.

Harry moved us easily to the end of the pool, and I huffed down as I felt the cold tiles. My nails raked over his skin and I allowed myself to break the kiss apart, only so Harry could continue kissing down my neck, licking and nibbling on my skin to his delight. The cold air of the night made me shiver and I threw my head back, as a bubble of bliss pressed tighter between my legs. 

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” Harry smiled and I felt myself buzz with happiness. 

“You’re the fucking gorgeous one, baby,” I whispered. My fingers had nestled on the nape of his neck and I played with the wet ends of his hair, while my nose bumped against his. “Fuck me right here, would ya?”

“Are you in a hurry, Sof?” He laughed. My cheeks felt hot and I looked away, focusing on a lawn chair that was by the far end of the pool. 

“Well, I know I might regret it if we don’t do it. But you’re right, it’s probably a silly idea.”

“I never said that. Don’t let your head tell you that, baby. And by the way, I love it when you call me baby.”

We kissed some more, slowly and hungrily, because I wanted to and because we could. 

We had all the time in the world. 

Harry squeezed my ass and pressed us closer, as his hips rocked against mine, as the water swayed us. He licked and sucked on my nipples, and smirked with every new moan that elicited from my throat. 

“Now you’re just torturing me,” I said. Harry smiled. It was true. 

“I’ll behave.”

“Oh, I don’t want you to behave,” I smirked. Lust flashed in his eyes and he offered me a grin that made my tummy bubble. “Make it worth the drive home while all soaked.”

“I was hoping you’d stay. Help me sleep better tonight.”

“That’s the only reason you want me to stay?”

“I have a few others…”

“Well, as long as you need me.”

It wasn’t long before we were in the room next to the pool. His skin was cold, and little beads of water ran down our bodies. His fingers tangled in my wet hair, and I stepped closer, feeling his chest against mine as his fingers trailed down my spine. There wasn’t much space between us, so I could feel him, his hard cock pressing against my tummy. 

His eyelashes were long and a bit curled, and they fluttered for a couple of seconds as he closed his eyes, giving in to the feeling of my touch. I wondered how it felt for him, as my fingers wrapped around his cock and I squeezed it lightly.

“You’re hard,” I stated, with a mocking smile curling up my lips. He was, and he grunted deeply in acknowledgment. “What are we gonna do about that?”

“I told you, I have a couple of ideas,” Harry replied, his voice low and slow, laced with lust. “And I need you for all of them.”

Harry brushed his lips over my shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to it. My whole body was covered with goosebumps, and my smile faltered, as I became aware of his presence next to me. Everything was heightened, his fingertips running down my bare tummy while he pressed just another kiss on the curve of my neck. “You know what I want to do when we fuck?” He said. His words made me shiver, and I looked at him, drinking every word of his. 

“What?” I asked in a whisper, leaning closer to him as a fiery need grew in my tummy. I wanted to kiss him, a hungry kiss that would leave us both breathless. I wanted to bite him and lick him, just to taste him. Just that thought clouded my mind. 

Harry didn’t answer and he didn’t need to, cause his hand had found its way between my legs. I allowed him to, gasping at the coldness of his fingers against my warm skin. It felt so good. So deliciously good. 

“I always think about you sucking me off,” he said, and his finger slid down my slit, teasingly. “I love the way you look at me when you do it.” I couldn’t look away from him, at his pouty lips and the way his green eyes turned darker and darker. It was like it reflected my lust, and I could see the fire that was starting to consume my thoughts grow in his eyes. 

“Maybe I would even make you sit on my face while you suck me off, baby, would you like that?” Harry asked, pressing a soft kiss on my neck that contrasted with the deepness of his voice. It was so rich, like honey and chocolate, and it made me melt inside, slowly stripping away any doubts that held me back. 

“I would.”

I let go of my lip before it would bleed, and let my tongue soothe the sore spot. With his eyes still on me, Harry let one of his fingers slide down my entrance, seeing how wet I was starting to get for him. He dipped the tip of his finger and teased my entrance with slow circles. If I moved, if I rocked my hips at the rhythm he was dictating, he would thrust the tip of his finger in, and I felt a slight burn in my walls. 

“And then I’d lick that pretty pussy of yours, baby. Get you all wet for me.” I was wet, he could feel it. He slowly let more of his finger in, and he thrust it slowly, looking at me as I parted my lips to inhale sharply. My walls clenched around his finger and Harry smiled widely, adding the tip of a second finger to the pressure between my walls. 

“Fuck.”

“I would eat you out until you came on my tongue,” he continued as if he wasn’t doing enough already. “Would you like to cum for me, baby?”

his cock, large and throbbing, gliding between my folds, getting wet, and slick with my juices, hitting my clit with its dripping tip. I wanted to feel that pressure, my walls clenched just at the thought. 

“I want you to sit on my cock, I want to bite your neck and your tits and play with them while you ride me. You can decide how fast you want to go, baby, how deep you want me.” His voice was just as slow, a secret between the two of us. 

He had stopped moving his fingers in me, and focused instead on my clit, spreading my folds as his thumb drew circles on the little bud. My fingers were trembling, just as my tummy was, as I stroked his cock between them. I could feel him in all of his fucking glory. It was selfish of me, cause I wanted his attention on me, even when I knew he needed me. His throbbing cock told me as much.  

“I wanna taste you,” I whispered. “Can I? Please.”

Harry kissed me before he said anything else, his hot mouth demanding everything I had, he wanted it all for himself. So I kissed him back, cause that was all I wanted to do. Because even if I repeated to myself that I would get over him, deep in my soul, I knew that I would always want more. Just like him, I wanted it all. 

I went faster, pumping him in my hand and letting my fingers brush over his swollen tip every time. Harry grunted, and kissed me harder, sucking on my bottom lip until I moaned, loud enough for it to echo down my body. 

I wanted to get on my knees right there, but he had a different idea and guided us blindly to the bed, where he sat and I stood between his legs, being observed by him with a devilish smile. 

“Go on, then,” he said. 

I got on my knees, pressing my fingers to his bare thigh before I grabbed his cock in my hand, holding him while I licked a bold stripe from his base to his tip and let my tongue swirl around his tip before I sucked lightly on it. Harry whimpered, at the same time that my eyes met his. Just for him to see, I kissed his length with soft, slow, and wet kisses, my tongue licking on the skin sloppily.

A sharp breath got caught in his throat when I took him in my mouth and pressed my tongue to the shaft of his cock, bobbing my head down as I tried to take as much as I could of him. Harry was thick, even I could tell that, and he felt deliciously heavy on my tongue, his sweet taste almost exhilarating. 

“Fuck, baby, get on the bed.”

I almost refused, cause it all felt so fucking good, but I obeyed, popping him out of my mouth long enough for me to climb on the bed and kneel beside him. Harry didn’t waste any time. His lips attached to my nipple, sucking on it while his hand gripped to the back of my thigh, sliding up until he could brush his fingertips over my soaked slit. Harry licked the other nipple, at the same time his fingers slid between my folds and he thrust two of them in, while his thumb pressed to my clit. 

He was distracting me, to say the least, and heat pooled in my lower tummy, pulsing quickly as Harry pumped his fingers inside me and massaged my throbbing clit. My hand went to the back of his head, and I tangled my fingers in his hair, while the other tried blindly to grab his cock. 

“Harry, please,” I begged. My breaths were shallow, and my stomach quivered quickly, feeling tight as the pressure between my legs grew to a pulsing fire. “I wanna suck you off, baby. I want you to cum in my mouth, yeah?”

I could feel him smile against my skin, and he let my nipple go, peering up to me to offer me a smirk. Go on, his eyes said, and I bent down and sucked lightly on the tip of his cock. It was swollen pink, and I could taste the salty drops that gathered there. I wrapped my fingers around his base, and I squeezed a little, before I started to pump his cock in my hand, as I sucked on his tip and let my tongue press flat to his shaft to bob down just slightly. 

If I looked up, I could see his bleary eyes and the way his mouth hung slightly open. Our eyes met and it was then that he started to work his fingers again on me, thrusting his fingers in my wet center slowly, while his thumb played lazily with my clit. 

I closed my eyes, cause my walls were clenching and my stomach quivered, deliciously, blissfully. You surrender control over your own body for just a couple of seconds, letting the other person tip you over the edge, as they please. 

“Fuck,” I whimpered. It was the only thing I managed to say, because Harry put his free hand on the back of my head, and pushed my face down lightly, so I would take more of him. 

“Fuck, baby…” Harry moaned in a strangled whisper. “Fuck, Sof…”

I didn’t know what I was doing, so I chose to be sloppy, to moan and show him just how much I was enjoying it. Harry’s hips bucked up and I gagged a little bit, digging my nails in the meaty part of his thighs as he rocked them and his fingers went faster and rougher on me. I could feel that edge coming, the bliss that started in the lower part of my stomach and pushed down to my legs, so everything felt tighter every time my walls clenched, and that took over my legs and ran down to my feet to make my toes curl. I was unable to talk, my body could barely keep focused enough for me to keep touching him, 

Harry’s stomach tensed, and the muscles of his legs flexed and he tipped his head back as his high hit him. I could feel his taste flooding my senses, and I kept sucking the tip of his cock and stroked him with a tight hold, helping him ride his pleasure for a little longer. His bliss came in waves, and he smiled as he pulled my hair back, the thrust of his fingers becoming just as lazy and slow as the rocking of his hips into my mouth. 

Harry dropped to the bed when he came down from his high. His hot skin was clammy and his breaths heaved on his chest, but he looked at peace and happy, and he barely opened his eyes when I straddled him and kissed his neck softly. I looked him in the eyes and felt the heat of his skin against mine. His fingertips were brushing my leg, making their way up to the round of my ass to settle there. I kissed him once more, on the lips this time, and shuffled away from him, ready to leave the room and pick up my clothes that were still bunched up in a pile next to the pool. 

“Love?” Harry said and I turned to look at him, still lying on the bed. “Come back to bed.”

****

Nashville was certainly a new city to add to my ever-growing list of cities I should come back to later and give myself a chance to know. But it was all a whirlwind, we went from the airport to the hotel, so Harry wouldn’t be seen. It was a surprise, after all. 

Harry had asked me to come with him to Nashville, or well, he had asked Diana, who had agreed for both of us. He had a few meetings there, and he was planning to join his friend Kacey Musgraves in closing her concert in the Bridgestone Arena. I had no idea what that was, and I was pretty sure I had never heard any of her songs before, but it felt like a big thing, but I found it very exciting. It was the first time I had an actual chance to see Harry do his own thing. 

But if I felt as if we had gone back to normal, I was sorely mistaken. 

I had gone back to my house after that night because it felt like the safest thing to do and because Sam had called me, to let me know that my mom had one of her migraines after she had seen someone had been lurking around the house. She was sure it was my dad. She was now in her room, he said, feeling indisposed. I didn’t tell Harry that, he didn’t need to know, I just rushed home after talking to Sam. 

Harry hadn’t asked me to stay or tried to contact me in any way. He hadn’t even taken my calls. I wondered if he was expecting me to make a grand gesture. Or maybe, he was bored the night of the party and had gotten his fun already. I wasn’t sure of which one was it, and so the fear was paralyzing. 

“You hungry?” Diana asked on our way to the hotel. We were all riding in the same car, Jeff, Harry, Diana and I, and Diana was sandwiched between the two of us. She was asking me, but I took my time to answer, wondering how long it had been since I had a full meal. The last one I could remember was having lunch with Harry on a Friday, the same day his Lights Up video came out. We ate burgers because I was about to start my diet, and I needed to say a proper goodbye to food.

I had barely eaten after that day. I had barely slept. It was hard to do any of those things when you’re empty inside. 

“No.”

Harry looked at me for what felt like the first time that day. Maybe he was now just remembering that I had told him I wasn’t hungry when he offered to make breakfast for the two of us, or that I hadn’t eaten anything while we were with his friends. 

I looked away from him and to the city that was in front of us. 

It was almost night already, and I knew I couldn’t go out to walk around because that would mean potentially ruining Harry’s surprise. Harry and I were supposed to share a room, but it didn’t seem like he was willing to share his bed with me, so I was mentally ready to sleep on the couch (he was the one that needed a good night rest after all), and watch The Crown all night long. If Harry came out, I could pretend to be asleep.

We couldn’t get fast enough to the hotel, I felt like I was suffocating in the car.

I was wearing a black hoodie, a bit large on me, with the letters TPWK embroidered in rainbow colors over the left side, a pair of leggings, and red converses. I had makeup on, a light beat consisting of tinted moisturizer, cream blush, cream highlighter, mascara, and sheer gloss over a pink nude lipstick, that Diana had insisted on putting on during the flight. My eyebrows were done, and I had even gone through the effort of putting an array of fake freckles on my face. This way, if someone saw me, I was officially wearing Harry’s merch, looking flawless and effortless, as if I was born looking like that. 

My hair, on the other hand, needed Jesus, so I had put it in a tight bun that was surely going to give me a headache. 

Harry and I got ahead, getting to the elevator as Diana and Jeff stayed behind, discussing our remaining outings before we ended things. By early January Harry would be a free man, free to get with whoever he wanted. 

That didn’t hurt, not at all. 

The ride in the elevator was silent. Harry leaned the weight of his body against the mirror wall, looking at his phone and biting his bottom lip as he did so. I twisted my fingers and waited impatiently for us to reach our floor. 

I was suffocating. 

On the tenth floor, the elevator opened its doors and two girls looked wide-eyed at us. They were frozen and their eyes jumped from Harry to me, and I was sure they wanted to pinch us, just to see if we were real. I stepped to Harry’s side and beckoned them to get in. My fingers brushed Harry’s hand and heat ran down my body. I peered up at him, but it didn’t seem like the same had happened to him. The girls snickered and kept throwing obvious glances at us, which felt a lot better than straight-up ogling. It had happened to me. It was never nice. 

We finally got to our floor and we flashed a smile to the girls before hopping out of it. The screams rang in the air as soon as the doors closed behind us, and I prayed that they wouldn’t jump in there, but honestly, they probably did. 

Harry opened the door to a large suite, with window walls that allowed us to see the city. The room had a large grey-blue couch, filled with blue and white pillows, a guest bathroom, and a small studio area, with a white desk and a hanging lamp over it. On top of it, there was a small library, with a few books about the city’s music and food. There was a door to the room, and I peeked into it when Harry opened it, and I got to see the king-sized bed and a blue velvet armchair. The door to the inner bathroom was opened and I could see that there was a large tub in it, as well as a ridiculously big shower. 

I put my things on the couch and sat on it looking out at the city as Harry went into the room. What should I watch on Netflix? Maybe I should just browse Amazon Prime, I was going to be one of their stars pretty soon. I picked one of the pillows on the couch and pursed my lips in disappointment when I realized it was a bit too stiff. I already knew I wasn’t going to sleep that night, but that didn’t mean that I didn’t want to be comfortable. I also needed at least one blanket. So I got up and went to the room, as Harry went into the bathroom. He had pulled some clothes out, a pair of jeans, black boxers, and a lace shirt, and placed them over the bed. I stared at them and my feet only agreed to move when I heard Harry’s footsteps coming into the room. I bolted to the head of the bed, picking one pillow and pressing it to my chest before I looked at him. 

“What are you doing?” He asked and I blushed in response. 

“I, uh, I need a pillow. Are you going out?”

“Yeah, I’m having dinner with Kace.”

“Oh…”

He wasn’t inviting me, why would he? Everything went so well just a few nights ago, what had happened? How had he got tired of me so fast?

“Why would you need a pillow?” Harry asked, being kind enough to ignore my bleary eyes. It wasn’t intentional, and I looked away, shuffling between the sheets as I pretended that I was looking for something else. 

“It’s cold in the living room,” I explained. 

“So?”

“I’m sleeping there. You have a big day tomorrow, and I have nightmares. Don’t wanna be a bother.”

Harry rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything. He picked up the clothes from the bed and walked to the bathroom, leaving me alone in the room. I rushed to get the blanket and got out. 

Now I wasn’t just suffocating, it hurt to breathe and tears spilled out of my eyes without my permission. I cleaned them off my face, and sat on the couch, turning the TV on as loud as I could so Harry wouldn’t hear me struggle to breathe. 

I don’t know what I was expecting or why I had agreed to come. I had my answer: He was bored and ready to get rid of me. 

Silly heart, don’t worry, it’ll get better. Someday. It had to. I could stop planning my big confession, there was no need for it. 

Harry smelled fresh and clean when he got out of the room, and his perfume lingered in the air. I barely lifted my eyes to look at him, pretending to be too focused on the movie I had on. I didn’t know which one it was, but it was noisy, and that checked all of the boxes I needed right then. 

“Don’t wait up,” Harry said on his way out, and I nodded. I was thankful for the numbness. “And Sof? You should eat something. Please.”

“I’m not hungry,” I said, looking up at him. He looked gorgeous. So fucking gorgeous. His hair was swept back, which didn’t mean much, cause as soon as it had the opportunity, it was going to fall over his forehead. There was a white shirt under the lace one, and I could see the wing of the sparrow. Harry nodded and pursed his lips, but said nothing, closing the door behind him as he left. 

I wasn’t hungry. 

I had confirmed I had lost him about a week ago, before the birthday party. I wasn’t stupid. Something had shifted between us. So, every day, after I got home, I told my mom I had already eaten, and got to my bedroom, staring at the wall while I hoped to sleep that night. Every time, I woke up in the middle of the night, after just a few hours, or even minutes of rest, with my mouth open and my heart racing, screaming internally, after I violently shifted in my bed. The nightmares were many, some of them about my past, and some about my future. In two weeks, I had only slept twice through the night, both when Harry was in my bed. 

Tonight wasn’t going to be any different, so there was no point in trying. 

****

@FionaB @harrystyles is the most charming man I’ve ever met! 

He just asked me to join him for a drink and if I was staying in a nearby hotel! 

@ThisisHanna For real? You’re so lucky!

@commonclown Wait, isn’t he dating @sofwelshdlr?

@FionaB @commonclown is he? He didn’t seem to remember, lol

@juliawhite @sofwelshdlr look at this!

@TracyB oh, please, girl, you’re lying 🤥 

@brokendoll pics or it didn’t happen.

@FionaB @brokendoll of course I didn’t take pics! I was too busy flirting with Harry Styles!! 🤣

****

Harry got back at 1:46 in the morning and I pretended to be asleep when he checked on me. He turned the tv off, and took my phone out of my hands to put it on the coffee table, and rearranged the blanket around me, to tuck me in better. I could feel the beer and the vodka in his breath. 

He went to his bedroom and closed the door. 

****

I slept from around 4:35 to 6:07 am, when I sat on the couch and stared at the city. I had taken my shirt off, and was in a sports bra and a pair of black shorts, with fuzzy socks that didn’t match anything. I had a cup of coffee in my hands, black with sugar, and I enjoyed the warmth of it against my fingers. It felt nice. 

“You do know coffee does not replace breakfast, right?” Harry asked, I turned to look at him, he was shirtless and wearing a pair of gray sweatpants, that hung a little too low on his hips. His hair was messy and his lips were pouty, still swollen from sleep. 

“I’ve been told.”

“We should eat waffles and fried chicken,” he offered with a smile, serving himself a cup of coffee that I had left for him. 

“I’m not…”

“Hungry, I know.” He said, too tired to have that conversation. I almost felt like apologizing. Harry sat on the couch, holding his cup of coffee as he looked at me. It wasn’t a lustful look or even a charming one. He was inspecting me. I looked awful, he shouldn’t do that. “Why are you up so early?”

“I wanted to talk to my mom before she started her shift at the hospital. She didn’t answer.”

“How is your family? Your mom, Cat, Sam?”

There was an edge in his voice as he mentioned Sam’s name, but I chose to let it go, shrugging my shoulders as I replied with a laconic “They’re fine.” I was too focused on the way he was looking at me, and I sat on the couch to stop him from staring at me any further. 

“Can I go to rehearsals with you?” I asked, redirecting the conversation to a better place. I was hoping to spend the day with him, maybe even watch him eat the damn waffles and fried chicken. 

“Yeah, I’d like that. And Kace wants to meet you, she wants to know if Chris Evans is a good kisser,” he said and I smiled brightly, like a child that had had her wish come true. So easy to please. 

My phone buzzed right next to Harry, and he looked down at it as I went to pick it up. He probably noticed Sam’s name flashing on the screen. I jumped up on my feet and avoided Harry’s eyes as I answered the call, turning to the window to continue looking at the city. 

“Hey, Sam,” I said. 

“Hi, sorry to call you so early,” I heard him say. There was a nervous hint on his voice, too bright and smiley, even miles away. It made me nervous, heightened my senses as I waited for the blow. “Did I wake you up?”

“No.”

“The nightmares?”

“I didn’t let them come.”

“Oh, yes, that is a very sensible solution, not sleeping at all.” 

“Sam…”

“I’m sorry,” he smiled. I could see him, blushing and looking down at the floor as he realized he was rambling. He always did so when he didn’t want to deliver bad news. “It’s just that...well, remember that man I told you about? The one that was lurking around your house?”

Fuck. 

“Yes, I do.” My heart had already stopped, knowing what was to come. 

“Well, it was your dad. He came last night, your mom opened the door.”

“Oh.” Fuck, fuck, fuck!

“Cat told me she paralyzed, Sof, I’m sorry. He told them that he was going to ask for Cat’s full custody. Your mom has been in her room ever since, and Cat asked me to come and spend the night, just in case.”

He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

“Ok,” I said in a calm voice, even though I was fully panicking inside. “So, what do you think?”

“That you need to move.”

“Ok, so we’ll look for a house when I get back. We can move as soon as we find one,” I told Sam. I was already running scenarios in my mind, picturing a fully armed guard posted by my door 24/7. Too harsh? Maybe. Unnecessary? I wasn’t sure. Electric wiring came to mind as well. 

“Yes, that sounds like a great plan. And I’m really sorry, Sof.”

“Thank you, Sam, for everything,” I whispered. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

I hung up and sighed, inhaling deeply and closing my eyes for a second before I turned around. My family was safe, I was safe. Everything was ok.

I turned to look at Harry, who had gotten up from the couch and gone to stand by the little “kitchen” counter. One couldn’t cook in there, but there were a coffee machine and cups and little plates, and Harry’s cup was already on it. He was looking at me, with such visceral eyes that I shuddered. 

“I was thinking…” he said. “Maybe it’s not a good idea for you to come to rehearsal.”

“Oh,” was all I could say. I didn’t have enough energy to even ask why. The air was too heavy and I could suddenly feel it weighing down my shoulders. I didn’t feel like being alone all morning. I needed Harry more than I had ever needed him before. “It’s ok. Can I still go to the concert? I was looking forward to seeing you perform.”

“Whatever you want,” Harry shrugged in response.

****

The venue was packed. I don’t know why that surprised me. 

The room was vibrating with excitement, and joyful chatter and I bobbed my head to the sound of the music. Kacey was already on stage, and I could see her in a little monitor, looking gorgeous with her pink outfit. It was pretty much like a movie set, people running around and shouting while she performed as if everything was perfect. 

Harry was getting ready, but he had barely acknowledged my presence since I got there, so it wasn’t like he was going to talk to me anyway. 

Once Harry walked to the stage, I was supposed to sit in a VIP booth, secluded from the crowd, but visible enough so people would notice me. 

I had considered the possibility of not coming. I had spent most of the day by myself, walking around the vicinity of the hotel, so I wouldn’t drive myself crazy. So I wouldn’t have to think about Harry, or my dad, or my mom, or the way that everything in my life seemed to be imploding. 

I walked until my feet hurt and I knew that I was gonna be in pain the next day. The hours that I still had before the concert I burned playing with makeup I had bought and listening to heartbreak songs. 

But even if I decided not to go, Diana would have never allowed me to. She knocked on my door when it was time and waited impatiently by my side as I finished putting my makeup on. I was taking my time, my lips were red and my eyes smoked out pink, cause tonight I didn’t feel like being discreet. I had put on a pair of black jeans, and a leather jacket, and a soft pink top, and my hair was in a loose braid that would not survive to the end of the night.

So, there I was, staring at Kacey Musgraves on a tiny monitor, while Harry ignored me. 

“Harry, you’re up in 5!” Someone yelled and my heart raced at the idea of finally seeing him. I turned, smiling brightly despite myself, and walked to him to wish him luck.

He looked stunning. His black pants reached his waist and the open chest of his shirt accentuated his tan skin. I stopped, waiting for the crowd around him to dissipate, but that didn’t happen, because they dragged him out to the stage before I even got close. 

Harry looked back, right before stepping out of the doors, and I smiled when our eyes met. Then, he was gone. 

If the crowd was expecting Harry, they hid it well. The arena roared as soon as the lights went out and Harry came into the stage mid-song. The energy electrified the air and I got goosebumps, looking at him singing along with his Kacey. The crowd sang along with them, and I wished I knew the lyrics, smiling widely when he sang and waved at the crowd, and even laughed at his Yeeehaw scream. It lasted less than 5 minutes, but I was probably going to remember that night for the rest of my life. 

It was the night when I finally accepted that I lost him, and the night where I had seen him shine as bright as only he could. 

“Can I stay here?” I asked Diana, as I saw her getting ready to go backstage. “I want to see the rest of the concert.” 

She narrowed her eyes and looked at me, licking her pink lips as she leaned closer so no one would hear her. 

“Why? You don’t even like country music.”

She was right. I also didn’t like feeling small. 

“Please.”

Diana nodded and got back to her spot, begrudgingly staying to enjoy the show. There was whiskey in her breath, which they kept offering us backstage, calling it Tennessee Whiskey with a wink on their faces. I had no idea what it meant. I had a couple of drinks anyway. 

I didn’t leave until Kacey did, and I stayed behind while everyone in the room clapped for her. Harry was already wearing a white cotton shirt and he smiled sweetly at his friend and hugged her tightly, whispering words to her ear. 

“Oh! So she’s the famous Sof!!” She exclaimed when I approached and she opened up her arms to me, smiling as she waited for my hug. “Jesus, the camera doesn’t make you justice.” She rubbed my back and pulled me close, and I hugged her back. 

“It was a lovely concert,” I smiled when she let me go. “Thanks for having me.”

“It’s alright, Sugar, I couldn’t wait to meet you.” she looked at her friend and smiled mischievously. “Harry’s smitten.”

“Good,” I said, looking at Harry as I did. A small smile curled at the corner of his lips, gone so fast that I could have easily missed it if I blinked. “So am I.”

“Disgustingly cute. Are you coming to the party, babe?” She asked, already looking somewhere else, she was being called. 

“I…”

“Sof’s tired, Kace, she can’t come,” Harry interrupted me and I looked at him with eyes wide with surprise. I was not, I was full of energy and I was hoping I would get to spend some time with Harry, even if it was just looking at him from afar. It took me a second to recover, to understand what was going on, and I smiled at Harry and Kacey, just as another piece of my heart broke. 

“Oh, are you sure?” Kacey pouted. 

“Yes, I uh, I spent the night reading new projects.”

“Oh, well, that’s the life of an artist for ya. You don’t mind if Harry comes for a little while, do ya?”

“Oh, no, please, have fun! I’ll just, I’m heading back to the hotel.”

“Next time you’re in Nashville, you and I will party until the sun rises the next day, promise?”

“Absolutely, as a matter of fact, we should schedule it right now!”

Kacey laughed and waved us away before she walked and made her way to a different group of friends. 

“Can I say something before I leave?” I asked Harry, who was actively avoiding my eyes. I wondered how we must look, standing awkwardly by each other’s side while no one looked the other in the eyes. “I think you were fantastic. I liked the duet.”

“You did?”

“Yes! I hope I get to see you at a concert someday when this is all over. I’ll probably skip next tour, tho.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause, it will take me a while to get over you. But don’t worry, I’ll be ok.” A smile broke on my face, cause I knew I wasn’t lying. It might take me some time to lick my wounds, but I was gonna make it. I always did. And someday, I was gonna try again. 

****

I texted Diana to let her know that I had gotten my own room and that I was going home on the first flight in the morning. I had already bought the tickets. I didn’t know if she was going to read it, because she was already dizzy and drunk when I left for the hotel, but I felt better letting her know. I also significantly decreased my chances of being murdered that night. 

There was one perk of being famous: you could get things you usually wouldn’t. Like a fried chicken sandwich, with cheese and bacon, fries, and a chocolate milkshake with a cherry on top, when the kitchen was already closed. Even if you’re not going to eat it. 

My new room was on a lower floor, so I didn’t have the same view Harry did, but I was still sitting by the window, with the TV as background, as I read a thriller book on my iPad. It was called The Last Mrs. Parrish, and maybe it was not the ideal book for my already sour mood, but I was in a rush to finish it, cause I had a hunch it would be a perfect drama series for me to become a producer. It was an idea that had started to run my mind in one of my sleepless nights, feverish, and fuzzy. This night was just as good as any to start shaping my idea up. I was supposed to spend 2 more days in Nashville, as Harry had a few meetings, and he wanted to see if he could visit some friends, so I was wondering if I should just stay, and finish the book there. But I had already booked my flight, 7 am the next day, and my poor heart was not up for anymore hurting. 

There was a knock on the door and I was tempted to ignore it. I continued reading for a few more seconds, hoping that they went away. I was pretty damn comfortable and cozy under my blanket, and if I moved just an inch, I would never get back to being as comfy. There was a second knock, and I grunted, scrambling to get up and walk to the door to open it up. 

It shouldn’t have surprised me when I saw Harry, leaning into the door frame with one hand, while the other was resting over his hips. He had just showered, his hair was still wet, and he was wearing a simple white shirt with grey sweatpants as if he had gotten ready to sleep when he remembered I was supposed to be sharing the room with him. I was about to close the door on him when I noticed two girls staring at us, trying to hide behind a large plant in a far corner. So I stepped to the side and allowed him in without saying a word. 

“Diana told me you had asked for your room,” he said. 

“I did,” I nodded. Harry followed as I made my way back to the window, and sat down on the floor, right next to me. I pulled the blanket over my legs and picked the iPad to prop it on my lap, as Harry picked one of the cold fries and bit into it. He made a sour face, before he put half of it back, and leaned over the plate to inspect the food. My heart raced as he picked up the orange bottle with the white cap, filled with white little pills. He looked at the label and then, turned to me with a deep frown etched between his eyebrows. 

“Did you order this and didn’t eat it?” He asked, which was the safest question I could get. 

“I ordered and then realized I didn’t want it.”

“Have you eaten something today?” Harry pressed. 

“I ate something,” I shrugged. “And don’t worry, you don’t have to pretend you care anymore.”

“What are you talking about, Sof??”

“I’ve realized that I’ve been selfish,” I started, licking my lips as I tried to organize my thoughts and remember the words that I had practiced and repeated a billion times since I left the concert venue. “And that I should’ve let you end things that night at my place. So, I’m doing that, you’re released. And now, you don’t have to pretend you worry if I don’t eat.”

“Or if you take sleeping pills.”

“I bought that on my way to the hotel and then decided against it,” I explained despite myself. “But, no, you don’t have to worry about that either.” 

Harry looked at me for what it felt like an eternity. There was a pang of sadness in his green eyes, and I had to restrain myself to not kiss his cheek and tell him that it’d be alright. He looked like a lost kid.  

“I have a request,” I said, following the script I had set for myself. If Harry just followed it, it would be amazing.  

“What?” He said, and I smiled at his unintentional good behavior. 

“Can you wait for a little bit before you officially get back with your ex? I mean, publicly. I know it’s not fair, but I…I don’t think I can handle that.”

“Would you do the same?” Harry asked and I almost laughed.  

“I’m not worth all the trouble I am, and I’m not getting in a PR relationship again, so…” I shrugged. Harry was too serious, looking at me with concern and sadness and I couldn’t bear it. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Don’t say you’re not worth the trouble.”

“Jesus, I’m not,” I rolled my eyes, as Harry got closer and his fingers brushed over mine before he pulled them away. Maybe he remembered that we weren’t supposed to be doing anything like that. “Can I tell you a story?” I asked, and I put the iPad down to turn to him. This was not a part of my plan, but I wanted to tell him this, let him know what he meant to me before he went away. 

“Please, so I don’t have to go to my room so soon.”

“Ok, so when I was little, my aunt Laura, she was my mom’s little sister and my favorite person in the entire world, she usually told me “don’t just settle for any man, love should be special” and stuff like that,” I was smiling at the memory, and I could see the little dimples on Harry’s cheeks as he looked at me. “She never got married and she couldn’t stand my dad, so she wasn’t allowed at my house. But she went anyway, it was our little secret. One day, my dad got home earlier and he found her there, so she took me to my room and went back down to talk to my mom and dad. Before she left, she told me to go to my special place.” There was so much I didn’t notice back then. So much I could’ve done. I could’ve screamed. I could’ve told. 

“You had a special place?”

“It was my closet. My mom put pillows and a lantern in there, so I could read. I was supposed to be safe there,” I explained, rolling my lips into my teeth and inhaling deeply before I let out a big sigh. “So, that night, I hid in my special place, and I brought with me a pen and a pink notebook, ‘cause if love was supposed to be so special, well, I needed to fall in love with someone special, right?”

“Sure,” Harry smiled, nodding solemnly. 

“So I started to draft my list of things a boy should be before I allowed myself to fall in love with him. I was obsessed with the movie Practical Magic, so of course, my special boy had to have a green and a blue eye, and stupid stuff like that. You think I’m crazy yet?”

“Not because of this, no,” Harry grinned and I rolled my eyes, laughing when I pushed him lightly. But he took my hand and pressed it to his chest, and I could feel his heartbeat under my fingertips. “Keep going,” Harry said. 

“So, uhm…” Lost, I was lost. “So, I met Sam, and I knew as soon as I did that he was always going to see me as his little sister. So I added him to my ‘special boy’ list. So he had to be kind and always be there for me, and like soccer, but be really bad at it. And Cat had to like him, cause she followed Sam around as if he was made out of light and she was his little moth. And he had to...he had to protect me, he had to be willing to leave town on a rainy night, with my crying little sister on his backseat,” I shook my head as if that would chase the memories away, but no, nothing could ever do that. “So we moved to LA, and I met all of these guys and I was never even interested, ‘cause Sam was the one for me.” Harry squeezed my fingers softly and I looked at him, suddenly aware of how close he was, and how familiar his body felt next to mine. I had never told anyone any of this, and I wasn’t sure why I was telling him, but I kept going because I didn’t want him to go to his room. 

“And then I met you, and that day in D’s office, my heart went ‘oh, fuck’,” I laughed. “And I was sure you were never going to say yes, but you did. And then you kissed, and I knew I was fucked, even when we were surrounded by cameras. When I heard about your ex, I knew you were never going to love me back, you were never going to be mine, but I still kept adding things to my list: the boy has to make me go to bed with a smile, and hold me tight when I have nightmares. And the butterflies, man I really love those fucking butterflies... And he has to be a little bit smug and cocky, just because he knows who he is and what he has to offer, and he has to make me just a little bit dizzy when he looks at me.” I found myself smiling at nothing, and I slowly came back to reality, looking at Harry and clearing my throat as I did so. “So, yes, I’ll just have to wait a little longer and I’m sure I’ll just keep adding things to that list...but, someday…”

Harry kissed me before I could even realize what was going on. I gasped sharply into the kiss and scrunched my eyes closed as I shifted to him, getting to my knees to straddle him, and push him back against the couch. Harry smiled at my sudden enthusiasm, and he let his hands fall to my hips and his fingertips dig on the meaty curves of my ass when I sat on his lap. I took the opportunity to push my fingers into the wet ends of his hair, and tilt my head so we could deepen the kiss, and his tongue swept across my bottom lip before he did as I wished. 

“You were fantastic in the show,” I whispered as we broke the kiss apart, and I pressed my forehead to his. Harry chuckled and the warm puffs of his breath made my skin fill with little goosebumps. 

“I couldn’t stop looking at you, Sof.”

“Then why didn’t you let me come to the party?”

“‘Cuz I was scared, and really fucking angry at you, at myself.”

I kissed him, softly and slowly, little kisses pressed to his lips as he smiled so much that he forgot to kiss me back for a moment. But when he did, he kissed me hard, parting my lips to play with my tongue. His hands spread over my ass, pushing me closer to his bulge. I hummed at the feeling and kissed him with just as much urgency. My body came alive with his touch, a fire that traveled from the tip of my head to my toes. Everything felt heightened, the way he brushed his fingertips under my shirt, and the little kisses he trailed over my jawline and down to my neck. I could feel the bit of stubble on his face and the curling pressure of his fingers as he tried to close the little space between us. 

“Get up,” Harry whispered against my lips. 

“Are you leaving?”

“No, baby,” Harry replied, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “I just want us to go to the room, is that ok with you?”

I nodded, ‘cause there was nothing better I could imagine, even if I tried, even if my mind weren’t all fogged up and fiery. 

Although, the couch would’ve worked too. 

Harry didn’t let me think. He helped me up on my feet and took my hand in his to guide me to the room. The butterflies fluttered tightly in my tummy and my heart seemed ready to send out the fireworks. 

“We can just kiss,” Harry smiled and I had to wonder if he could feel my heartbeat in my fingertips. 

“Yes, I’d like that.”

The corner of his lips got trapped between his lips and he looked at me. Sadness was long gone and now something like happiness danced in his green eyes, which made the butterflies stop for a second and go Eeeep. I felt like I had forgotten what it was like to look at him and wait for his touch and it was all coming back in crashing waves. 

When we kissed, I let him know how much I missed him and needed him, how afraid I was to lose him. I let him guide us, soft and slow at the start, as we both tried to memorize the taste of our kiss. Harry licked my lips and let himself get lost in me, with his arm looped around my waist while the other was pressed to the back of my neck. His kiss was maddening, making me feel like I was the only thing he could think of at that very moment. My whole body itched to have him. 

Harry seemed to get it, cause he allowed his fingers to travel under my shirt, pushing the fabric up until we had to break the kiss so he could take it off. I was braless already, and I held my breath as Harry stared at me as if it was the very first time he saw me like this. My fingers trembled as I hooked them around the waistband of my jammies, but I stopped as Harry shook his head and smiled. 

“Lemme see you, baby. Turn around and push them down.”

“You’ve been watching a lot of porn, haven’t you?”

“I’ve been thinking about this a lot,” he admitted shamelessly. “So, let me sit, so I can see you, yeah?”

I watched him sit on the bed and his hand go to his crotch, as he palmed himself over the gray fabric of his sweatpants. The sight made a rush of adrenaline run down from my lower to my legs and a pulsing pressure settled between my thighs. I did as he asked me to, and turned around to allow him to see as I slowly bent down and pushed my jammies down my hips and my legs until I reached my ankles. 

“Fuck,” I gasped at the cold feeling of Harry’s tongue on my center. He was sloppy as he trapped my clit between his lips and his fingers dug on my asscheeks to spread me apart. “Fuck.”

A blissful wave rolled down my tummy, and I shifted on my feet just slightly, to allow Harry to let his tongue run down my slit and lap around my center. The tip of his tongue slid between my folds, barely pushing in before he went back to play with my clit, sucking and lapping on it as if I was a fucking delicious ice cream and he was decided to devour me. I could feel his warm breath, fanning over my slick pussy and making me shiver and laugh breathlessly, the unexpected touch already pushing me to a delicious edge. 

I didn’t know what to do, where to put my hands or if I could rock my hips as I wanted to, so I dug my nails on the palm of my hand, and my breath heaved as Harry continued to work to drive me crazy.

“C’mere, baby,” Harry commanded as he stopped, and I almost wanted to tell him to get back on his knees and finish me off, but I turned to look at him, just like he had said, and saw his glistening lips as he smiled at me. If I let my eyes travel down I could see his hard cock in all of its glory, and his fingers pressing up to it to tease himself.

“Can I suck you off?” I asked, but Harry shook his head no, and sat down on the bed, on the same spot I had left him just a couple of minutes ago. I went to him, taking short and slow steps so he could see my every move, and stood between his legs as I helped him take his shirt off. My hands pressed to his shoulders and I pushed him down to the bed, straddling him so he couldn’t even think about going anywhere. 

I wanted to trace every tattoo on his body with my lips. I started on his collarbones, trailing tiny little kisses and licking his soft skin, I made my way down his body. I kissed the sparrows and the butterfly and I hummed as I reached the ferns, my fingers curling up the waistband of his sweatpants to push it off. 

Harry propped himself up on his elbows and looked at me as I took the remaining of his clothes off. I was clumsy and laughed shyly, but he didn’t seem to mind, his eyes followed my every move, even when my hand wrapped around his cock, and I climbed on the bed to start sucking him off. I just wanted his taste in my mouth, to hear the little gasp of pleasure he let out when I dropped a ball of spit on his cock, and spread it over with quick, tight movements. I just wanted to see his tummy quiver when my tongue ran over his swollen tip and licked the salty beads of precum that spilled on it and as I sucked it sloppily, just like he liked him. 

Harry laughed, but it was delirious, blissful. His head tipped back and he grunted out a moan that echoed down my body and rose little goosebumps on my skin. It was all I wanted, to make him feel good. 

“Sof,” he breathed. “Come sit on my face.”

I popped his cock out of my mouth and looked at him, smiling mischievously as I lapped my tongue over his tip one last time. There was lust in his eyes, full and pure, the usual bright green had disappeared, and they were as dark as they could be. 

“You like ordering me around, don’t you?” I asked him, but I was already making my way to him because just the thought of his tongue on me made my stomach tighten. 

“And you’re usually such a good girl, baby. Come and spit on your hand so you can play with my cock.”

I straddled Harry’s face, and sat back down carefully, shivering when I felt Harry’s tongue flick over my clit. I was still pretty sensitive from before, so it was pretty damn easy for him to get a moan out of me. His hands were on each of my thighs, pulling me closer to his face as he licked and sucked and played with my swollen clit. I was drenched, so fucking wet it was ridiculous, and Harry smiled when I tangled my fingers in his hair, so I had something to hold on to as I rolled my hips. 

It took me a moment to remember that I was supposed to play with his cock. I leaned my body back and grabbed him with trembling fingers as Harry held me by my thighs. Harry grunted as I did, and bucked his hips up as I started to pump him. This new position made him go deeper and faster, and his tongue slid down my slit until it reached my center and thrust it in once and again. 

Each of Harry’s moans added to the fire that had settled in my tummy, and it was becoming harder to keep up, to sit straight and not give up to the pleasure that was pushing down to take over my body. He didn’t seem to notice, though. His tongue swirled around my needy clit and I felt like my whole body was burning. 

“You’re fucking dripping,” Harry whispered, placing a kiss on my thigh to let me take a break.

“Please, don’t stop, please…

My walls were clenching around his tongue as soon as he started again, and I pulled his hair between my fingers, my only anchor to reality at that very moment. It wasn’t enough, cause soon I was grinding my hips on his face, losing control over myself as the world around me became blurry. He trapped my clit between his lips and sucked on it lightly, sending me over the edge of bliss as his name escaped my lips like a prayer. 

I was exhausted and shaky when I fell on the bed, and my peripheral vision had become fuzzy. When Harry’s weight pressed down to my body, I laughed, shifting down to feel him better against myself. 

“You’re ok?” He asked me but I didn’t answer. I kissed him instead, hungrily and needy, with my tongue lapping around his mouth and tasting myself on it. I licked his lips and sucked on the tip of his tongue and moaned when he sank his teeth on my bottom lip and pulled on it. 

My walls were still clenched and my stomach quivered as my high kept rolling in. 

“I’ve never been better,” I smiled as I laid back down, which Harry took as an opportunity to kiss down my jaw and trail his kisses down my neck and my collarbones. He reached my chest and his tongue felt cold against my clammy skin and I shivered when he licked my nipple and sucked and nibbled it lightly. 

But as I calmed down, I realized it wasn’t enough. I wanted it all, I was craving it. My legs hooked around his hips and I pulled him closer to me. I could feel his cock dragging up and down my slit, gliding between my folds as we both started to grind our hips. I was so wet that it was easy to coat him with my juices, and when he twitched, his little grunt echoed in the air. 

“Fuck me,” I begged, just as I had done before, but this time, I was gonna get my wish. 

“Ask nicely,” He grinned, and suddenly, his hips came to a stop, and I moaned, more in despair and need than anything else.

“Please, fuck me,”

It was delirious. Fucking delicious. His swollen tip burned lightly as he aligned himself to my entrance and he let it slide in, just barely, enough to open me up and make me bunch the fabric of the sheets between my fingers. His cock felt bigger and thicker than his fingers or his fingers or his tongue, and I clenched my walls around it, reacting to the foreign feeling, and trapping him there. 

“Fuck, Sof,” He moaned. My senses were heightened and I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him, even if I wanted to. I watched him as he let a ball of spit fall down to my pussy and gasped at the feeling of his fingers rubbing it on my clit. 

“God…” I gasped. As I adjusted to him, Harry thrust a little harder, until he was all in and my walls stretched around his cock to mold to it. 

We kissed again, this time a little more feverishly, and my hands pressed to his back, feeling his muscles work as he rocked his hips. I was aware of every inch of his cock as he thrust it slowly, and I didn’t know what to do with myself, hiding my face onto the crook of his neck and pressing sloppy kisses to his skin as he fucked me. 

“You feel so fucking good, Sof,” Harry whispered to my ear and the butterflies fluttered freely and wildly in my stomach. I forgot about everything that wasn’t him. My moans were strangled and shy, and my walls clenched around his cock with every new thrust. Harry went faster and deeper and I could feel him in my stomach if that was even possible. His eyes were closed, and the cold metal of his cross dragged up my skin with every new roll of his hips. 

“Kiss me, would ya?” I said, and that was enough to make him kiss me, sloppily and deeply, with every moan of his dying on my lips. My fingers tangled in his hair and I pulled on it, just to get a reaction out of him. His breath heaved and his hands went to my hips, to push me down and closer as went just a little rougher. 

It was too much, the weight of his body on top of mine, his kisses, the way his cock pushed between my walls, the fire that spread down all over my body. I felt blissful, aware of every inch of my body for the first time ever. I could get addicted to it. 

He was closer than he would like to admit, I could feel it in the way he scrunched his eyes closed and how he struggled to breathe. It was a shame that I wasn’t too sure of what to do to push him over the edge, but I tightened the grip of my legs around his hips and clenched my walls with every new thrust. He seemed to like it, cause he pinned me down to the bed, and groaned between his rough thrust, just as the muscles of his tummy and legs stiffened and he let out a warm laugh, that mixed with the quivers that rolled on his stomach.

“Fuck,” I heard him say, but I was too focused on the warmth that was filling me up, the juices that were dripping down his twitching cock as I tightened my walls around him. I laughed too, kissing him fully and deeply, as I brushed my fingertips down his spine. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispered against my lips, making me feel giddy all over. 

“You should’ve told me what I was missing,” I laughed. 

“Wanna go again? Maybe a couple more times?”

“How many?”

“Like 5?”

“I don’t think I can handle that, baby. We need to build up to it.”

“It’s alright, we have time.”

[amelialincoln]

Notion

“Hey.” Link was breathless as he brought the final bits of outdoor furniture into the kitchen. It was supposed to rain tomorrow and Seattle had become covered in a thick layer of fog that seemed to cling to him as he closed the door to the backyard.

“Everyone headed out?” Amelia asked, scraping the last of the kid’s leftovers into the compost. Link nodded, placing a lingering, cold kiss on her forehead that made her shiver.

“Seemed kinda awkward between Jackson and Winston.”

“Well, it’s not Maggie’s fault that Jackson’s dated every person in a fifty mile radius,” she responded bitterly.

“This is true,” Link nodded.

“What’s going to make things worse is that she’s going to have to explain that all of us are mourning her other ex’s death,” she added grimly.

“No,” Link’s voice was soft. “I thought he pulled through.” 

“Richard just called me to see if I wanted to join a meeting on zoom tonight, everything fell apart and Teddy and Owen couldn’t save him.” Tears were starting to fill her eyes. Deluca hadn’t spent much time on her service recently but he and Sam were pivotal when she was working on Kimmie’s tumor. When it came to her own tumor, she was surprised how much Deluca had shown his support.

“So, he’s just gone?” Unlike Amelia, Link hadn’t experienced a whole lot of death.

“Yeah.” He pulled her into his chest and rocked gently. It almost hurt how nice it was to see the few people that had come over today. Despite the house they were living in being chaos, the couple had never felt more isolated and alone. “I had to tell Zola that Mer might possibly not wake up.” Amelia whimpered. “She was so strong. She doesn’t want to worry Bailey and Ellis so she told Maggie and I not to tell them. If anything happens to Mer, Derek made Kathleen their godmother, I can’t watch these kids get shipped off to New York, they’ve had it hard enough.” 

“I know, babe,” Link sighed, pulling her in closer.

“I have to go feed Scout, my boobs are gonna explode,” Amelia finally shed herself of Link’s arms after a couple of blissful moments. “Can you read to Zola and Bailey? I can handle Ellis because she’ll get like five stories out of you if I let you go in there.” Link chuckled.

“You’re probably right.”

 [][][]

“Auntie Amelia.” Amelia was relieved to be greeted with a sleepy voice as she stepped into the pink monstrosity that was Ellis’ room.

“Hi Elle belle.” She smiled in response to the little girl’s arms reaching towards her. “Come on sweetheart, let's pick some pjs.”

“Can you make it a surprise?” Ellis asked in a way that made Amelia’s ovaries explode and she found herself wondering what Link would think about trying for a girl. Hormones, Amelia, focus. “What about these?” She suggested, holding up a pair of pastel blue Moana pajamas. Ellie nodded happily, squealing as Amelia tugged them over her pudgy arms.

“Can we read the cookie mouse story?”

“Of course,” Amelia grinned. “It’s not like we haven’t read it every day this week.” She lowered herself gently down onto Ellis’ bed. Recovery hadn’t been the easiest when chasing three children around the house and caring for a newborn. Link had pulled out Amelia’s stitches the night before, using his phone’s flashlight, since neither of them wanted to go to the hospital and then go through the trouble of getting tested. She had tried to hide the pain for Link’s sake, tired of him expecting her to be constantly resting, but she hadn’t expected the pain. Link was an incredible ortho surgeon but when it came to the little details, he was sometimes a bit careless.

Amelia closed the door to Ellis’ bedroom as quietly as possible, trying not to chuckle at the little figure sprawled out across her twin bed. For such a small girl Ellis was notoriously known as the most impossible person to sleep with, taking up spaces three times her size. She walked past Zola and Bailey’s room, hearing Link’s animated voice through fits of giggles. He definitely outdid her in the storytelling department, and really in every department, which she tried to not think too much about. Scout was babbling as Amelia entered the familiar room.

“You hungry, big guy?” To Amelia’s relief, Scout had progressed past his grumpy and problematic eating phase. She hugged him into her chest, breathing in his sweet and comforting soft lavender smell from the bubble bath they’d used this afternoon. “My beautiful boy.” She was still in disbelief, even staring down at him in her arms, that he truly existed. As he’d gotten bigger, he’d started to become a perfect combination of his parents. With Link’s strong features, like his nose, and what Amelia could tell would be his jaw, along with her dimple and piercing blue eyes.

“Hey mommy,” Link’s amused voice came from the doorway. “You feeling better?” Amelia wasn’t sure whether he was referring to the soreness in her lower half or the news about Deluca.

“He makes everything better,” she sighed, fumbling with one of the buttons on Scout’s onesie.

“You going to go to that meeting?” Link asked, she could tell he knew something was bothering her. “I already missed it.” She shrugged, glancing at their bedside alarm clock. “I’ll probably just feed him and then pass out.”

“Do you want me to grab the baby wrap, you were lifting lots today already with the furniture.”

“Sure,” she nodded, not feeling like having a conversation about how perfectly fine her arms were. Link nodded, placing a soft hand on her back before rummaging through their closet for the wrap. She was happy to find that Scout latched on easily and without protest, feeling a little guilty about the lack of attention that he’d received today. She knew that people were suffering way more during this time and she couldn’t help but feel guilty for wishing that she, Scout and Link could be spending quality time in their apartment for their maternity leave like planned.

“Lift your arm a bit.” Link ran a soft hand along the side of her forearm as he tied the piece of fabric around her shoulder and managed to wiggle Scout into it, without removing him from her chest.

“Thank you,” she smiled tiredly.

“No problem,” he yawned, practically collapsing into bed beside her. “Fuck, Amelia I’m exhasuted.”

“Me too.” She ran a gentle hand through his hair, tugging out some of the frequent knots that had begun to form since his hair had begun to grow out.

“Is your incision site healing okay,” he groaned into the pillow, melting a bit as she massaged the root of his neck.

“I haven’t checked,” she admitted with a yawn.

“Want me to grab some polysporin?”

“It’s okay, babe, it feels fine.” She sighed slightly, playing with the idea of bringing up a topic that has been bugging her but not wanting to cause an argument that neither of them were up for. “You started drinking pretty early today.”

“Amelia,” Link groaned tiredly. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It was just unnecessary, no one wanted...I’m just worried.” She shifted Scout to the other side uncomfortably.

“It’s not my fault you see addiction everywhere. I had like two beers.” Silence hung thickly in the air and after a couple of minutes Link turned to face her. “I’m sorry. I know it makes you uncomfortable.” 

“You don’t really seem to care,” she answered honestly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He replied defensively, tiredness had seemed to leave his body momentarily. “I don’t--”

“The fridge is stocked, Link. It’s like a reminder every time I go to make food. There’s a cooler in the garage for a reason.”

“How am I supposed to know,” he sputtered. “Meredith downs tequila in front of you like this is a frat house. You hang out with our friends when they drink all the time.” 

“It’s different when you're surrounded by people. When I’m alone and just staring at a fridge filled with booze it’s hard to not want to take one.”

“Amelia, you haven’t relapsed in years, why would you even--”

“Because I’m an addict, Link!” The increase in volume of her voice caused Scout to shriek in protest. “Don’t you understand that? It doesn’t get easier. It’s a fight every fucking day. And when my boyfriend starts drinking every day at three o’clock in the afternoon, it makes that fight ten times harder.”

“Well, I’m sorry you feel that way,” he grumbled. 

“Are you serious right now?”

“About what,” he shot back.

“Well, I’m sorry you feel that way. I thought you’d be considerate enough to validate my feelings instead of acting like I’m being dramatic but instead you’re being a child.”

“Mia,” Link groaned, slamming his head back into the pillow, looking as childish as ever. “You’re--”

“What? Overreacting? The fact that you don’t see this as an issue is concerning.” Scout’s shrieking turned into a full on meltdown as their “perfect” son burst into tears. “Oh, baby, no. It’s okay.” Amelia sighed, finding tears of frustration begin to build at the sides of her own eyes and let out a tiny whimper as she held back any sobs that attempted to be heard. Of course Link noticed, as always, and rolled over to witness the upset state that both his girlfriend and baby were in.

“I am sorry,”

“Show me then,” Amelia hissed through a clenched jaw, wiping away some stubborn fallen tears. “Cause right now I don’t believe you.”

“I’ll put the packs in the cooler tomorrow,” he promised, with a hint of resentment. Amelia shrugged, finally giving up on feeding Scout and bringing him tightly into her chest.

“Hey, it’s okay, mommy and daddy fight sometimes, but everything’s going to be okay. Don’t cry Scout. We love you so much,” she murmured into the crown of his head, causing Link to melt a little inside.

“Are we going to be okay?” Link asked, receiving a teary glance from his girlfriend. 

“Not if you can’t get this sorted because I cannot be his mother and also be passed out in a ditch somewhere on opioids.” Link nodded, moving to tug her shirt back into place and took Scout into his own hands, marvelling slightly at the little miracle they had created. “I don’t want to screw him up.” 

“You won’t,” he promised her, pressing a kiss to her forehead before grazing her slightly chapped lips. “You’ve been a mother for a month and have already proved that. That’s the last thing we need to worry about right now.” He patted his chest. “Now come to sleep because if we stay up any longer I feel like I might end up on the couch,” he chuckled. 

“Don’t give me any ideas,” she replied with a yawn. 

“I love you,” he sighed.

“I love you too.” 

what did u guys think of 17x07? i did find the beers at like 12 a bit weird and with the upcoming episode’s synopsis “Jo, Jackson and Link play a drinking game” I wonder if Amelia and him will have a conversation about her addiction bc I feel like they haven't really talked about it. lmk what u think!