#like the boy most people were obsessed with wasn't particularly good looking

[pynkhues]

Jacob and Sam truly looked like zygotes as older teenagers/young adults. Those are just little babies. Adorable, but definitely examples of how some people reach peak hotness starting in their 30s.

Kind of interesting, for Sam in particular, it seems like he's played a lot of roles where being handsome is part of the character, and I'm now being a weirdo and wondering if he was considered handsome as he grew up or if he grew into that. He somehow doesn't always act, to me, like someone who's viscerally aware of being as handsome as he is. Not that I expect good-looking people to all be arrogant, the most beautiful people I've known have tended to be very nice, but there's just a quality...i don't know how to explain it.

(x)

They both definitely grew into their features, haha. It must be such a weird thing to age as an actor, and constantly have people discovering performances of yours from when you were younger. I think about that a lot with child stars, particularly child stars who are part of shows and films that become pop cultural juggernauts like The Goonies or Stranger Things. Like to grow up and have your (sometimes very!) younger face be a part of everyone's history instead of just your own must be a really weird feeling.

As for Sam - - I'd say yes and no? He's definitely done a few romances, which I think does usually mean being handsome is high on the casting agent's requirements list, haha, and I think having a certain look was a consideration for both Lambs of God and The Riot Club, but he's also played a lot of roles where I think he's cast as a bit of an Australian every-man, actually? I'm thinking of the roles that I've seen him in, and he plays a highschool teacher in The Hunting, a sergeant in The Drover's Wife, a country boy in Bloom, a soldier in The Railway Man, hell, even playing Dale in The Newsreader is I think is more about being photogenic than it is about necessarily being handsome. Even that clip of his first TV role, he was a plumber.

If he was considered handsome as he grew up - - who knows, haha. Probably. He's also well-documented as being a theatre kid / farm boy at a very prestigious all-boys private school in Sydney in the mid-00s though, so I imagine he was humbled pretty regularly to put it mildly.

[getvalentined]

One thing that really gets me about Sephiroth's obsession with his mother is that it had to have been instilled in him by Gast and Hojo. Assuming he was raised by the company and in Gast's care until the guy ran off, after which he was shuffled off into Hojo's custody (all of which is either overtly canon or heavily implied enough to be considered canon), it wouldn't have been particularly difficult to pull him away from the whole concept.

Children are dangerously impressionable for the first several years of their lives, it's indescribably easy to condition them into seeing things as normal—this is why a lot of abused children don't talk about anything being wrong, because that's their normal. It would have been very little work to indicate to Sephiroth starting very young that his mother died when he was born, but it's fine because that's not uncommon and he doesn't need to worry about it.

But Gast (and Hojo) didn't do that. Gast at the very least ingrained this concept into his head that his mother was special; he'd have been the one who told Sephiroth her name, who told him anything about her, because he had him at his youngest and he was the one who was so obsessed with the Cetra. One of them even gave him a photo of her* so that he'd know what she looked like, even if the woman in that photo wasn't Jenova.

They nurtured that longing for a loving parent, something that would only have been worth the effort to instill if being used as a form of manipulation. They knew his mother, she was involved with the company, the only way he'd ever know anything would be if he stayed and listened and did as he was told. The longer he stayed, the more he'd understand, and the more likely it would be that he'd find out about her. They made sure that he knew the only way to ever get any information on the one person who might have loved him unconditionally, who wouldn't have abandoned him or abused him if she'd had a choice, was to be loyal and obedient.

They led him along with the prospect, the hope that someone out there might have loved him for himself instead of for what he could do. Someone out there might have loved him for who he was, not what he could become.

They absolutely must have done this intentionally. Gast started it, Hojo continued it, and Lucrecia never had a chance to intervene. Gast may not have had ulterior motives in the malicious sense, as he believed that Sephiroth was the son of a Cetra—but he never told Sephiroth that, did he? Because Sephiroth was shocked by the discovery in Nibelheim, he didn't know until then that he was, allegedly, the last of the Ancients. Gast never told him.

But he told him his mother's name was Jenova, he told him he was special, he was kind and supportive through Sephiroth's most formative years. We know that because of how he behaves as a young teenager, the values and patterns of behavior that were instilled in him prior to being surrendered to Hojo's abuse in the name of progress. We know that because of how he talks about Gast, and how he compares to Hojo.

Gast and Hojo gave Sephiroth the concept of "mother" as someone that was good and kind and would love him no matter what, and turned it into a leash that bound him to Shinra for life.

Absolutely evil people.

*The photo was given to Sephiroth by Hojo, as a note. Based on FSBR and DoC, Lucrecia was still with the company until around 1984, when Gast left; she was on Project 0 then, not the Jenova Project, and there didn't seem to be any overlap since Hojo also didn't appear to have access to Sephiroth until he got control of the department, but it still would have been a very risky thing for Gast to do. Hojo seemingly got custody of Sephiroth around the same time that Lucrecia ran off into the mountains, which was also around the same time that Gast went AWOL, so Hojo may very well have given the photo to Sephiroth in an attempt to ingratiate himself to the boy during the transition in custody.

It makes more sense that Hojo would have the photo than Gast, anyway—Lucrecia was and is Hojo's wife. Of course he has a photo of his wife. Of course he held onto it all this time. Of course he gave it to the only part of her he had left, the great work they created together. Sephiroth was her project too.

[svmjaeyvn]

love maze, s.jy.

chapter two pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: tbd (series)

masterlist

add yourself to the taglist here!

genre: college!au, mutual friends, fake dating, smut.

synopsis: an unfortunate encounter, drunken mistakes, and a sort of (definitely) stalker leads jake sim ‘dating’ his best friend’s childhood crush.

or, your life gets intertwined with a rich boy’s in attempt to not get sued by his crazy personal fangirl and like with all good cliches, sex overcomplicates things.

contents: smut, sort of strangers to fuck buddies to lovers pipeline, childhood best friend!jay, mentions of best friend! yunjin, curly haired & mixed reader, uni!au, rich nepo baby!jake, enha frat boys, lots of kissing, fake dating turning into fwb real quick, totally way too into it for it to be fake early on, big booty reader that’s jake’s obsessed with, partying and alcohol use, slight violence, he fell first and harder trope, stem bf & writer gf, (kinda overly) possessive jake, some angst to spice things up, daddy issues, hyper independent reader who struggles with her feelings, fluff and happy ending!!

a/n: hello~ i’ve never been a tumblr girly but i have went through my w*ttpad era back in 2018 so bare with me y’all. this will be a series but not that long (i hope) so pls look forward to it. warning tags will be placed before each “chapter” to specify what to expect. pls pls reblog and interact, i’d love to have feedback and see what your thoughts are. okay! yay, for now enjoy and thank you sm :D

MDNI, 18+

tap below to continue

CHAPTER TWO: INTOXICATING

previous masterlist next

word count: 1.9k

warnings: alcohol, partying, mentions of yeonjun for funzies, jake thinking with his dick even after what just happened so sort of questionable???

a/n: bare with me i’m trying to build the plot a little bit

YOU DIDN’T KNOW how you ended up back at the frat house. Truly, the party was in full swing and after dealing with the encounter that you did, it would've made the most sense to go home and cry it all out, maybe eat some ice cream for dinner and watch a few romcoms. But that wasn't the case due to Yunjin sending you a text saying how she wouldn't be coming home for the night, the date seemingly going well and you didn't have it in you to ruin her night by telling her of yours.

Thus, uncomfortable with being left alone, you opted to go the other route and surround yourself with as many people as possible. Though, the boys hadn't wandered far, keeping you in sight at all times and Jay particularly staying by your side no matter how many times you told him to still enjoy himself knowing how much of a social butterfly he was a majority of the time. Your work uniform was disregarded in his room, changed into a spare pair of flare jeans and lacy top to fit in with the party, courtesy of the few clubbing nights you went to with him and ended up spending the night, leaving your clothes in his dirty laundry after stealing large hoodies and sweats.

All bad things could be washed away with alcohol, or so they said. Thus, you were on your fourth round of shots in the last 30 minutes with a random group who made their way in the kitchen, never one to have been a lightweight but typically better at timing your drinking. Jay was growing particularly antsy by your actions, knowing you were acting out of the need to forget but he didn't want to let you drink irresponsibly.

"Why don't you slow down a bit, yeah teeny?" Jay asks, leaned close to your ear for you to hear over the loud blaring of music. Attempting to take away the can of Twisted Tea, something you typically hated by the taste but tonight didn't seem to care, while you pull it back with a pointed look.

"I'm fine," You emphasize, words clear and steady, the alcohol not hitting you yet much to your relief. Glancing around, you make eye contact with the umpteenth girl who had been shooting daggers your way for keeping Jay occupied thus far. "If you don't go away I'm gonna end up getting jumped tonight by your fangirls," You add with a small snort.

Jay followed your gaze, turning to the girl who's face morphed from a glare into a sickenly sweet smile as she waved at him with a bite of her lip, attempting to be seductive but he merely snorts at the gesture. "Pretty sure she got chlamydia from a dude in the drama department,"

You scrunched up your nose, finding the information one you didn't need to know. "At least you know better than to fuck anyone that offers," Taking a long sip of your drink once more, the slight burn in your throat becoming easier to bare. "Alright, I'm gonna go dance. You go do anything else,"Jay shakes his head almost immediately causing you to send him a bored look. "I'm fine dude, honest. You need to stop worrying so much. Nothing actually happened,"

"You're not in the right headspace," He protests but you let out a small snort.

"Jesus, dude, you act like an overprotective brother,"

"I am!" Jay defends while you shake your head.

"We're not even related!" You shoot back but his jaw drops in offense.

"We were born a week apart, our moms have been friends since high school. We're basically twins, I know you better than yourself," He lists off, deeply concerned by the way you were disregarding your twins in another life theory that your families always joked of since you were young.

"I'm definitely not your twin, you know why?" You start, standing up from the kitchen island with a small smirk playing at your lips. Your head began to feel fuzzy, the start of your buzz coming and the tension from earlier leaving you slowly but surely. "I'm hotter," You finish, a cocky look playing at your features while Jay rolls his eyes.

"Right, and which one of us gets laid?"

"Hey!" You hiss, waggling a finger in his direction. "I don't hook up by choice. Y'all are nasty,"

"And because you're a hermit who doesn't see the light of day," He snickers causing you to narrow your eyes at him.

Decidedly having enough of the banter, you merely spin on the heels of your feet. "Bye Jay!" You call over your shoulder making your way toward the living room which was lively and loud, body's meshed together and dancing to whatever song that was blaring through the speakers that sounded through the house.

Jay let out a sigh of defeat, pulling out his phone to do a headcount of where everyone was. Thankfully, Heeseung and Jake were in the general area you were, him asking them to keep an eye on you for the time being and getting a thumbs up in response.

Heeseung was on the dance floor, a random girl he never met before tonight swaying herself pressed up against his hips. He looked lively, a few more shots in and just wanting to mess around for the time being. You spotted the tall boy momentarily in the jumble of people who nodded over to you ensuring that you were okay, a nod you returned reassuring him and he took it as enough to go back to his business.

Meanwhile, Jake was on the sidelines, leaned up against the wall as he spotted you the moment you walked over. Far too caught up with the events from earlier, he found it hard to enjoy himself, feeling partially sorry for you but also having an unpleasant pit in his stomach, not necessarily angry but he couldn't exactly pinpoint it.

He continued to sip at the cup of punch Jungwon had conducted up, only drinking it due to how excited the younger boy was of his creation but it was entirely too strong for anyone to stomach more than one cup.

His eyes continued to glance over you, taking in each of your curves that was showed off by the tightness of your jeans. They hugged your ass in the right places, emphasizing the perky shape before beginning to flare out from the knee down. The lacy black top was cropped, showing a good portion of your stomach due to the mid rise of your pants, the deep v-plunge neckline providing more to the imagination in seeing your breast that were pushed up with your bra. The shiny gleam that came off of your naval piercing catching Jake by surprise, having to do a double take to ensure he was seeing things correctly.

You were attractive, that was obvious enough. Although slightly shameful, he couldn't help but rake his eyes over you, thoughts filling his head imagining what it would be like to have you under him, staring up with that daze-y doe eyed look that would make him bend to of any of your desires.

But there was a problem with that. He wasn't the only one with eyes, able to see you and the way you swayed your body to the music, your tiny waist and full thighs that he wanted to die between if so lucky. Jake took note of the few guys who's glances began to wander toward you, even ones who had already claimed their fuck buddies for the night and danced alongside them all while drooling at you who danced by yourself.

He watched as a familiar face make his way toward you. Choi Yeonjun, cool dude to be friends with, horrible guy to date. His reputation preceded him in more ways than one, notorious for stringing girls along week by week and the worst part was they knew of his doings. It was embarrassing how they fought to be his newest toy for the day, a sort of achievement to the girls he's strung along to say they've ticked hooking up with Yeonjun off their list.

Yeah, not happening. Jake didn't know if it was due to him still feeling protective due to you unintentionally calling him for help, or rather the more sinful thoughts that passed through his head moments ago and not wanting to sit and watch you to become a new trophy to a guy like Choi Yeonjun.

Picking himself up from where he was leaned back, Jake took a large swig of his now lukewarm concoction of liquors. Weaving his way through the crowd, he pushes his way to you just as Yeonjun stops in front of your view.

Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, Jake leans close to your ear. "Go along with it," He whispers, catching you by surprise as you were previously engrossed by the music in your own little world, unaware that two of the most lusted over guys at the party were having a silent debate over you at the moment.

Feeling the alcohol now coursing through your bloodstream, you obliged by Jake's words. Continuing on without a word of protest, though you did take the red solo cup from his hand and took a sip from it as you adapted to dancing with him now. Scrunching up your nose upon the drink hitting your tongue, you look at Jake with an incredulous look of disgust in his beverage choices causing him to laugh.

"Jungwon made it," He explains with a small shrug, leaning dangerously close to your face as his breath lightly fanned against your lips. Peering over your shoulder, a small smirk plays at his features seeing as Yeonjun had disappeared from your sight, decidedly giving up on any sort of chance he was attempting to have with you for the night.

"It sucks," You respond back and yet still take another sip, this time longer as you quickly swallow it without time for it to settle on your tongue. Jake's smile turns into one of amusement, watching as you handled the alcohol as if it were nothing before you placed the cup back in his hold. "You either dance with me or go away, your pissing contest with that dude is over now,"

Jake raised a brow. "Pissing contest?"

"You know, marking territory that's not yours," You shoot back, a bored look sent to him as he sheepishly shrugs. "I don't need you being protective like Jay. For one, we barely know each other and two, I'm not that much of an idiot to hook up with Choi Yeonjun no matter how badly I need to get laid. So you either shut up and dance with me or you go away,"

Already rather blunt as it was, the second you got alcohol in your system you tended to be more unfiltered than necessary. Jake finds amusement in your confession but your eyes seem so certain. Though the slight gleam in them as you looked up caused his stomach to do a flip, one that caused him to not think clearly.

Jake didn't respond, instead his arm slips down from your shoulders down to your waist, snaking around and encasing your body against his own. A small smile perks at your lips, sighing blissfully at his lack of commentary and rather allowing you to do as pleased.

"Good choice," You mumble out, breath fanning against his neck as your arms lazily drape from his neck, brining your bodies dangerously close to one another though neither of you minded.

After all, having a little fun with a hot guy never hurt anyone, right?

[thousand-winters]

My new obsession with toh is the very concept of witch ears moving with emotion that has to be one of the most ADORABLE things that the fandom could come up with like, I cannot stop thinking about it it's just so perfect and so sweet and such a good way to show clear emotion skxidjdnkxid in the interest of feeding this obsession, I would love to hear any thoughts you may have on the matter (especially in regards to Hunter and/or Darius and our boy's brand of speculated 'tism) <3<3<3

Oh, I love that headcanon so much. I think it's also fun when people play with the possibility of Hunter's ears being particularly expressive like that because he's a grimwalker so technically he's like a witch but potentially with some extra traits. Alhough that's probably not super uncommon in witches that also have demon blood anyway, which does work on his favor.

There's also the extra added layer that Hunter doesn't seem to be great at masking what he's feeling, ironically, since he used to wear a mask most of the time, and though that reflects the most on his facial expressions, it absolutely would as well on his ears (considering Labyrinth Runners and Thanks to Them, honestly he does seem to show emotions on his ears from time to time 😭).

I can imagine people at the Emperor's Coven being especially good at hiding this because, well, one has to be when they're on a place so full of backstabbing and people taking advantage of each other, so the first time Darius sees Hunter's ears move during one of their sewing lessons, he's kinda surprised.

He's unsure about if he should tell him or not, but he figures Hunter must already know and he does wear his mask most of the time anyway, right? So he's probably fine. Besides, he doesn't want to make him feel self-conscious and like he has to be stoic during the time they spend together as if this were any kind of formal training.

But it's... a little painful sometimes. The first time Hunter makes a bad mistake in his stitches and fears Darius' retailation, Darius can see how his ears just pull back in fear until he speaks to him gently and lets him know there's nothing wrong with fumbling a little, that's what learning is supposed to entail after all. When Darius tells him that he's going to be busy with his duties this week and they'll have to postpone their next lesson until the following week, Hunter's ears drop down in disappointment, despite his best attempts at pretending he wasn't looking forward to this as much as Darius himself even if he hasn't admitted to it.

Strangely enough, it's not less troubling for Darius when Hunter shows his positive emotions through them.

Darius pats his head and his ears flutter a little even as Hunter looks surprised; it's clearly something he's not used to but something that makes him happy regardless. His ears rise upwards slightly when he's offered praise or when Darius offers him some snacks he totally didn't get for him so Hunter wouldn't be going hungry due to lack of time.

It's just so painfully easy to read him like this and it's clear that if Darius, who hasn't been interacting with him closely for that long, can tell what he's feeling, then someone who presumably should be looking out for Hunter's wellbeing would know it even better. Not that he needed any proof of that but Hunter is just... so visibly miserable most of the time and Belos more than care about it even seems to encourage it. The only thing Darius can tell himself is that eventually he'll get Hunter out and it'll be okay, Hunter will be treated right like he deserves.

Now once they're actually living together and when everything is over? Darius enjoys not only listening to Hunter ramble about things he likes, he enjoys seeing Hunter gesticulate enthusiastically with his hands in emotion and the way his ears flutter as well when he's particularly excited or even when he really likes the affection he's receiving. Even if he perfections his poker face, his ears keep giving him away and Hunter is SO annoyed about it, but Darius thinks it's the most adorable thing ever.

At some point Hunter is going to do that thing from that one incorrect quote and just cover his ears when he thinks they're about to give him away. Darius is so sorry for his reaction but first time he saw him do that, he just burst into laughter and Hunter got so red because it was supposed to help him hide not to be cute 😭

He gets some nice ear scratches in compensation tho.

[local-pr1nter]

Mondo Oowada Dynamics Pt. 1

NOT MY GIF THE SOURCE IS AT THE BOTTOM RIGHT

(*Quick note! I address Chihiro with he/him pronouns!)

To start off, let's start with his own class, class 78.

At first everyone thought of him as this intimidating delinquent, not knowing what else to think of him and typically steering clear of him. Aoi, Byakuya, and Kiyotaka had the most negative opinions on him at first.

Leon, Sayaka, and Makoto were the first ones to actually see past the delinquent exterior and befriend the biker.

Hifumi, Celestia, Kyoko, Mukuro, and Sakura remain indifferent to the biker.

Junko finds it hilarious to rile him up - often getting him in trouble with Kiyotaka or their teacher. Mostly Kiyotaka. Mondo isn't particularly fond of the fashionista.

Eventually Kiyotaka and Mondo challenge each other to an endurance contest - and they quickly become friends the next day. It's jarring for everyone, but it actually makes everyone else relax - just a tiny bit.

Chihiro, Aoi, Sakura, and Yasuhiro start to open up, extending their own companionship towards the biker as well.

Byakuya, Hifumi, Celestia, Junko, and Mukuro continue to ignore the biker. They don't exactly become friends - only tolerating each other through extended friends.

Mondo clings on to a few students - Kiyotaka, Chihiro, Leon, Makoto, Sayaka, and Yasuhiro, seeing all of them as good friends.

And oh boy do they get into trouble.

Mondo and Leon always get into trouble - nothing serious, just ditching class or playing nonsensical jokes on each other. They're mostly seen as the delinquents of the class, when they're actually just two dorks sharing one singular braincell.

MONDO AND CHIHIRO ARE GYM BROS YEEEEEEAH

Mondo is Chihiros biggest hype man.

Chihiro looks up to Mondo, always boosting his confidence and erasing his doubts about his masculinity (not completely but it definitely helps ease it a bit)

They're homies.

Makoto tends to be more of a chill friend when compared to Leon.

Makoto reminds Mondo of Takemichi - acting as a calm voice of reason to contrast his brash, impulsive actions.

But still a chill dude, yk?

They don't hang out all that often, but when they do it's a pretty chill hangout, mostly talking about their life over lunch or smth.

Sayaka took one look at Mondo and said "Yeah that's a friend shape right there"

But in actuality they bonded over his makeup Sayaka is OBSESSED.

All it took was one session of doing each other's makeup before they were glued at the hip. Sayaka loves to do his nails or eyeshadow, and they often binge shows together or gossip about other students

The best way I can describe it is a male/female pairing that people think they're dating, when in reality they're just besties. Or mlm and wlw solidarity whichever tickles your fancy.

Yasuhiro was that one dude that Mondo wasn't all that sure about at first - thought he was some weirdo that was constantly on w33d.

And then he figured out he was just like that. That was just his default state.

It got much easier to get along after that revelation.

They're pretty chill when they hang out too. Not chill/relaxed like Makoto, but a chaotic type of chill - which makes zero sense but I'll try to elaborate.

Yasuhiro spouts random bullshit - Mondo eventually latches onto one topic - they converse over said bullshit topic, usually resulting in heated debates or staying up past midnight.

It's really rare, as they mostly hang out through mutual friends, but one on one hangouts? It's either that one video of a drunk guy swinging around a belt, then getting restrained by another guy with said belt - or the two guys arguing over the Wicked Witch of the East.

If I could find the video I would share it but noooooo I suck at searching

And then there's Kiyotaka.

KYOUDAI

As many others, I adore their dynamic. Platonic or romantic, they're great.

For this I'll just focus on platonic stuff.

Literally glued at the hip. By default they hang around each other, doing everything together unless something comes up.

On Mondo's end, he helps Kiyotaka relax and learn to have fun while they're still in high school. This ranges from late night drives, video games, and hang outs with their classmates. Mondo adores his kyoudai!! Normalize male friendships!! I love their ship but I love their friendship/brotherhood just as much AHHHHH

Oh and Mondo likes to cuddle all of his close friends.

You gotta pry him off with a crowbar.

Man got big to hug his friends and dogs simultaneously.

OH AND THERE'S THE TWO GIRLS THAT TERRIFY HIM.

Kyoko's mere aura scares the shit out of him. She is intimidating, but he'll never admit it due to pride.

The same goes with Toko, but it's more understandable as everyone is scared of Toko and Syo. He can tolerate Toko, but Syo? No way in hell.

He can tolerate Kyoko though.

I think they would get along pretty well in both a romantic or platonic aspect.

But platonically? They're a crime solving duo. Mondo's the brawn, she's the brain.

Man I really need to separate this into another part just to expand on the more negative dynamics huh-

Also can y'all tell Mondo is one of my favorites he's great-

[edutainer2022]

On WIP Wednesday I'm challenging myself with this bit to maybe finish the story - it's been written out in my head for months, but it doesn't translate to pixels. Jeff is really trying in this one, but it ain't easy. Scott gets in a lot of trouble.

ANYTHING HE COULD EVER DO WRONG (Bit 1)

Jeff could maybe remember why it seemed like a good idea at the spur of the moment. Lord Hugh Creighton-Ward had unexpectedly arrived accompanied by his daughter on a visit to Tracy Headquarters in NYC. A courtesy visit on paper, it was to be a trial run of Brains' newest development - the heavily augmented, armored state-of-the-art limo-jet FAB0. Besides, the two men had a lot to discuss on a different project Jeff had in the works, that was to change everything.

As it was summer break, Jeff had Scott with him for an impromptu internship at the office (and a bit of bonding time, as Jeff Tracy was in so many words scolded by his mother, who stayed behind on the farm with the rest of the boys). Scott was to shadow Jeff in meetings and to get to know the grassroots workings of different departments. In whatever free time was left the boy was taking extra credit courses over the summer, fully intent to graduate early. So Lord Hugh's visit with his girl formulated an obvious easy plan - have the adults talk shop, and have Scott be a cordial host and show Penelope around the Tracy Towers. Penelope, about John's age, prim and precocious, was already every inch a lady. And if Scott's disarming smile and roguish demeanor was a bit of a bane of feeble hearts among the co-ed interns and younger assisstants, Jeff tried to chalk it up to the boy's blooming people skills for his own peace of mind. It was good to see his son smile again, at least. All in all, what could possibly go wrong?

Well... A LOT it turned out, as Jeff was looking at a smoking pile of pink-tinted cahelium and chrome in mind-spinning horror. Nobody knew how the kids managed to sneak away from the Creighton-Ward driver/bodyguard - Parker - hotwire the controls and take the prototype FAB0 for a spin in the air. Well, Jeff maybe had a vague idea of the Actual British Princess and the fifteen year old Han Solo wannabe situation possibly going on, but that was the furthest on the list of his concerns at the moment. Penny was conscious and for the most part appeared unscathed, when a blanched Parker and Lord Hugh helped her out, but Jeff could see the brown locks slumped on the safety cushion at the wheel and a trickle of blood down his son's face. Scott was unmoving. And Jeff's mind blanked out on the spot.

It was a testament to Brains' engineering genius and safety measures obsession, or the fact Scott grew up at flight controls in his father's lap and was naturally predisposed to fly anything, or maybe Jeff had used up all his lifelong limit of tragedy and loss - the kids were, indeed, alright. Relatively so. Penelope was shaken and more afraid for getting Scott in trouble, it appeared. Admittedly, it was her idea. Or maybe a dare. Scott got a broken wrist and now sported a bright blue cast, and a gush on the forehead that needed stitches. And a vehement, if admirable, insistence to take the fall for the lady.

Jeff wasn't particularly proud of the way he handled it - there might have been yelling, a grounding for the rest of the year, a confiscated phone, no TV or movies, or games privileges, and a strict prohibition to use the computer or tablet for anything other than schoolwork, a crisp "Yes, sir" and possibly a slammed door at the upper level of their Tracy Tower penthouse.

To his credit Jeff had to say that a sight of a son, unconscious amidst the metal debris, covered in soot and blood, was to haunt his sleeping and wakeful hours for many, many years to come, liberally transforming the former into the latter. It was unable to rest a wink and needing a stiffer insentive than an Advil, that Jeff staggered down from the master bedroom to the sitting area, nearly stumbling in the dark over something soft, warm and slumped against the wall on the stairs. The ball of tousled curls and blue pajamas keened painfully in his eldest voice. Scotty!

[bruiserelliot]

I sat at the edge of oblivion, my feet dangling gently. The scythe was heavy in my hand.

"I dunno about this."

"What? Nonsense, you'll be great." I stood and turned back to where Death was adjusting their robes, twisting their skull back onto their recently extended spine. "You have absolutely nothing to worry about. You don't even have to do much, the scythe does most of the work. Just give it the old 'your time has come, I'm here for your soul, the clock has run out, blah blah blah.' Works every time."

"Right, yeah, no I got that part, but I feel like it might be important to point out that the last several centuries have proved it doesn't work every time," I argued, trying not to trip over the too-big robes I'd been given. "Nobody's died for the last, like, several millennia. He's not just gonna come quietly like I did."

"Please, you came anything but quietly." Death smirked. How they managed to do that without lips was beyond me.

Death was a good boss, that was for sure, and they'd been a welcome change when I, well, died. Still getting used to that. Turns out getting into back alley fights a few days after Death's recent prison break was enough to actually get you killed. Knives could do that. Who knew?

The knife guy left when he saw the massive shadow behind me, and when I turned around, all I heard was them.

"Do not be afraid, your time has-"

"WHAT THE FUCK?!"

"Oh, right."

"I dunno who the fuck you think you are dude but you better back the hell up or I'll tear your fucking teeth-"

"Um, yes, about that." A skeletal finger pointed behind me.

"What?!" I whirled around, ready for round two with the knife guy. No knife guy. Just me, on the ground. I was staring at me. But the me was on the ground, and it wasn't moving, and blood had pooled around it(me?). "Ohhh fuck, oh fuck what was that knife laced with dude?"

"Nothing. Hoo boy, okay I am way worse at this than I thought. Hold on." The shadow pushed their hood back, revealing a whole ass fucking skull. Yeah that knife was definitely laced. "No it wasn't. Hi there, I'm Death, I'm rusty, I need a new reaper, and you're dead. Want a job?"

"... WHAT THE-"

I rolled my eyes, going back to the ledge, looking down at our next target.

"Ooh, I like that word, target. Succinct, to the point." Death twirled the scythe in their hand idly.

The man below the ledge was Walter Archibald Rathe. The richest man in the world, and the oldest to boot.

When Death had been sealed away, three men had been the culprits. Antonio Stillpenece, Oscar Mineaf, and Rathe. All three were now worth billions and had an effective iron fist over the unending world.

They were all complete wackjobs, obsessed with nothing but their own lives, their own power.

Nobody really knew how they did it. Something to do with horses and the apocalypse, I don't really like to think about it.

But someone in the last few weeks had found the jar they'd stuffed Death into, and managed to open it. Every person Death had caught up with since then had turned down the option to become a reaper. Till me I guess.

"Yeah, so you shouldn't be stressing so much."

"Maybe I wouldn't be stressing if I wasn't about to kill the worst man in the world!"

Walter down there was a particularly nasty breed of rich man. The nastiest in fact. See, when you can't exactly threaten people with death anymore, you have to get creative. Ruthlessly creative. Walter's billions sat on trillions of tortured people. Humans that, had Death still been free to do their damn job, would have died centuries, if not millennia ago. Instead they rotted in cages built from their own agony, begging for any end to the pain. Some of them didn't even know death was an option, it had been so long. And here he sat, at the top of his building, as floors and floors and floors were flooded with his wrath.

Death was well overdue here, and they knew it.

"Listen to me. Men like him typically have no idea what happens when you shake a bottle of coke. They don't know what tension builds, what bubbles brew and fizz and make their way to the top. And this particular bottle has been shaking since I've been put away. Too long."

I looked down at Walter, and up at Death.

In all my years, and there were many, I had always assumed that, were death to come for me, it would be kind. And I was right, they certainly had been, to me.

But as I looked at them, the kind spirit who had offered me a job had faded. They stood at the edge with me, hood up, robes billowing, scythe poised. "Now are we going to let it sit? Or are we going to open the bottle?"

I looked down at Walter again. I could hear it. The fizzing whispers, begging for an end. The muscles pulling tight to try and stay together. Walter's chuckle as he added another coin to his pile.

"Mm. Thought so."

"... I wasn't the first one to say yes to the job offer, was I?"

"... No." Death pulled my hood up, and the robes began to shift around me, no longer dragging on the ground. I gripped the scythe tight, feeling the wood soften and shift under my hand.

I stepped down into WAR's office.

"Wh-What the, who are you?"

"Walter Archibald Rathe. Your time has come. Your clock has run out. I have come on behalf of my employer, and I am here for your soul."

"Don't ignore me dammit, who are you?!"

I raised my scythe,

"Pandora Teasurre. Reaper."

and I opened the bottle.

Many ages ago Death was defeated and sealed. Immortality is the norm, but the loss of death has lead to a society of ultralites that rule over never dying slaves. As Death’s first reaper after the unsealing, you are here to remind them why Death exists… and why your master should be feared.

[fancyjojojo]

The old man and the sea.

Man this book is so weird, or at least the experience that I had reading it.

This whole time I've been trying to get trough this book, everything about it is so bad and so good, this might be the best and worst book I have ever read.

I don't know if this is just me but the worse thing has to be all the boat words it uses, I had to stop reading this book every other two pages to get out my phone and look up what I just read, the first word this happened with was "skiff" what the hell is a skiff, it turns out it's a type of boat, how the hell am I supposed to know that already, how the hell is anyone supposed to know that before going into reading this book.

And maybe it is just me, english is not my first language and maybe |I missed something when I wasn't speaking it, but it really seems like some of these words should have at least an explanation on the back, like gunwale, or the stern, and even weirder is that this book has dates in the back, from when it was borrowed in the past before I took it from my school when they were throwing some old books away, and the oldest it has is from the 80's.

Back in the day, as if I lived in those times, if somebody didn't know a thing they just kinda had to live with it, I still got to experience a little bit of that when I was a kid, and I know how bad it gets from older people I've known who just don't know, or just don't care, that there are so many things that have changed and are not true anymore, and I can only wonder how confused kids back in those days must have been when they saw those words and they asked somebody and they didn't know.

But the book itself was fine, it was incredible, the way that it starts is particularly interesting to me, an old man who hasn't caught anything in over eighty days, his golden years behind him, and the only person willing to still cheer for him and be by his side when he goes fishing is a boy, a boy named Manolin, a name which I just know he gets bullied for, in those eighty days Manolin has insisted in being alongside with the old man and help him catch fish even tough it hasn't happened in so long.

And the meat and bones takes place when the boy isn't with him, when the boys family is so fed up with the old man not being able to catch a thing that even the old man himself wants the boy to go into the big boats with the other fishermen to catch something finally.

Santiago is his name, a name I think is fit for such an old man as him, it has the normality of any other name but I think it is such a good name for a fisherman, he is so obsessed with baseball, and the great DiMaggio, with his bone spur, the old man wants to be like him so much, trying to give himself strength by thinking "what would he dop" when the fish he so desperately wants to catch has been dragging him for so long out at sea.

And that's another thing that I really hated about this book, a way ion which the old man gave himself courage to battle tiredness while lost at sea with his brother the fish, I don't know if this is the case in other printings of this book but in mine it's on page 69, in order to remember the kind of man he is the old man remembers himself of a time when he had to endure an arduous battle and came victorious, at a tavern in a place called Casablanca, he stayed in an arm wrestling competition against a black man for a day and a night.

Oh but the book doesn't use the word black, or technically it does, black but in spanish, I'm not gonna write it, but I know what it is.

And I know that those were other times, and that maybe he didn't mean it or something, but it is such a small part in the story it barely has two pages in the book, and it's just so sudden and out of pocket for the story that I just can't ignore it and be like "oh people back in the day sure were something else", Ernest Hemmingway was at least a little racist.

But like I said yeah the book was pretty good.

The descriptions of the fish are what i like the most, how it turned from a yellow, violet and blue majestic creature, to a gray and lifeless thing after the old man killed it, and it feels so bad to read every page and imagine the fish looking worse with every bite the sharks give it, and the Old man just ignoring the fish at the end, after all that he has gone through, his bleeding hands, his lack of sleep, the tools that he lost while flighting the sharks, and his hurting back, it is a sad book at the end, the boy crying put a knot in my throat, when Santiago finally comes back in the middle of the night and the next morning he sees him lying in his bed face down and arms wide spread looking almost dead.

I finished reading this book almost 36 Years after the oldest date the book had written on it, Feb 12 1988, and today as I write this it's February 11 2024, it seems almost wrong to not save it for tomorrow, but today was the final day of the Superbowl, and it just feels right, if Santiago was a real man living today he would have seen it, and he would have told the boy about it, and compared it to baseball and the great DiMaggio.

He would have seen it and then he would have gone to sleep and dream about lions.

[avatar-anna]

Can you do part 2 to 'traitor'?

the wait is finally over! and, uh, let's just say ms reader has a type lmao

tw: mentions of suicide

part one

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were walking the streets of LA, marveling at the street lights that lit the sky in lieu of stars. It was cold, but not unbearably so. It was mild enough that instead of wearing your coat, you held it over your arm.

You felt giddy. There was no particular reason, you just felt good. Maybe it was that you saved a life today, or maybe it was that your smoothie this morning was perfectly blended, not a single seed stuck in your teeth, or maybe it was that your boyfriend called towards the end of your shift asking you to come to a special album release party tonight.

There was no reason not to be happy today. Today was a good day, and in your life, your line of work good days were important. And it was about to get so much better.

Dressed in a navy blue jumpsuit that cut your figure perfectly and your most comfortable pair of boots, you felt amazing, you looked amazing, and there was no doubt in your mind about it.

You used to not believe that. There was a dark period in your life where your confidence was practically nonexistent. After your breakup with Harry and the news that he had a girlfriend shortly after, you were beside yourself. You compared yourself to her, wondering what you did wrong or why he chose her over you. Was it because she was thinner and not as curvy? Was it because she fit into his life better, or that she could afford things you couldn't? When you dated Harry, you never questioned any of that, at least not obsessively. He never made you question yourself or your worth. And then you lost him and you lost yourself.

And it didn't help that his fans were comparing you and his new girlfriend too. Everything you wrestled with in your head, they confirmed. Everything you thought about yourself, they multiplied it by a hundred. It was awful. You dropped out of nursing school, you rarely left your house, rarely ate. You were a shell, a husk of the woman you'd once been before all the mess.

You didn't know how to get better, didn't know how to be better. You felt pathetic for letting a breakup get to you, you'd begun to hate yourself—your body, your hair, you couldn't find one thing you liked about yourself, let alone love.

Life was bleak, your mind corrupted by other people's thoughts. You lost sight of what made your life matter, you couldn't come up with a reason as to why you mattered.

And on a particularly dark night, you made a mistake.

But by some miracle, a friend had come to check up on you. You hadn't answered your phone in weeks, you never left the house, and when they got there, your house was in complete disarray. And then they found you, slumped over and not quite on your bed, and not breathing.

They saved your life that day, helped you recover and find happiness again. It wasn't easy, and it was a long, long road, but you made it there eventually.

And then you met him, the love of your life.

You thought you never wanted to be involved with anyone from the music industry again, but Elijah turned your world around. He was charming, sweet, funny, and eventually was the one who encouraged you to finish nursing school, or find something that made you happy. He saw the very best in you and celebrated it. It was only a matter of time before you fell head over heels in love with him. And you did, so much so that you moved across the world to be with him. Eli was willing to move for you, but you wanted a change of pace, some new scenery, and who better with than your sweet American boy?

Your family loved him, your friends loved him, but most importantly you loved him. He was sunshine on a cloudy day, warm chocolate cookies fresh out of the oven, every warm and fuzzy feeling you ever had. He doted on you the way no one else did, always putting you first, always reassuring you that there was no one else for him, until he didn't have to anymore. You were one hundred percent sure that neither of you would ever love anyone else, and that certainty was something you never thought you would ever had, but you were so happy that you did.

eli🥰🥰: are you almost here?

eli🥰🥰: i can't wait to see youuu 😚😚

You couldn't help but smile down at your phone. Typing out a reply, you rolled your eyes at how quickly Elijah responded.

eli🥰🥰: i can't believe you won't tell me what you're wearing 😡

He was so silly, but that was one of the things you liked about him. Elijah didn't take himself seriously. He was fun and adventurous and never failed to make you smile.

you: you'll know soon enough. i'm walking through the doors right now

You finally arrived at the fancy rooftop bar where this party was happening. It was a listening party for Olivia Rodrigo's debut album, an album that Elijah was a songwriter and producer on.

Eli wasn't very well known by the public, but he did a lot of work behind the scenes that people didn't really know about. He loved making music, and that's all he wanted to do. So he didn't drive a super fancy car or throw lavish parties or live that "celebrity" lifestyle that most people in his business did. Eli was, for lack of a better word, a normal guy, and that made it a little easier for you.

Going up the elevator, you listened to the music played as you traveled up. Your stomach knotted into a tight bundle of nerves, the way it always did when you had to go to one of these things. Eli didn't throw any parties, but he went to them occasionally (with you on his arm, of course). He never left your side unless you went to the restroom, and even then he joined you occasionally if he couldn't keep his hands off of you.

The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open, and he was right there waiting for you, your favorite drink in his hand. "Baby!"

He was acting like you didn't text him two minutes ago that you were almost there. You hugged him with the same excitement anyway, kissing his cheek a couple times and wiping lip gloss off his cheek when you pulled back.

"Ready to celebrate?" you asked, offering him your arm. You did that at these things because you were so proud of him, and he deserved to be shown off for his hard work.

Eli took your arm and walked with you further into the party. He introduced you to people, told them that you were his rockstar nurse girlfriend. You blushed, but didn't correct him. You were kind of badass.

"There's someone special I want you to meet," he said quietly, tugging you in the direction of a small stage overlooking the city.

Curious, you followed, your eyes widening when you realized who he was taking you to meet. She turned around, her long brown hair whipping around her as she moved. A broad smile stretched across the girl's face.

"Oh my gosh! You must be Y/n! Eli talks about you all the time!" she said, immediately wrapping you up in a hug.

"Hello," you said, your arms wrapping around her hesitantly. "It's so nice to meet you, Olivia."

Despite your boyfriend working on her project, he'd been super hush about it, and you were only familiar with the one song, but you were happy to meet her.

"I—Oh gosh, this is so embarrassing. I was, like, your biggest fan when I was a kid. I would always see you out and was so jealous because you were dating Harry. Styles. And—Oh boy, I'm so embarrassing myself right now, aren't I?"

Olivia's neck and face flushed when you tensed at her explosion of words. You smiled a bit at how she said, "when I was little," but you still felt a little awkward. Pressing yourself against Elijah's side, you said, "It—It's okay, it was a long time ago."

No one really knew much about you outside of your relationship with Harry. After the breakup, you kind of fell off the face of the earth. All social media accounts had been deleted, you never left your apartment, and the few times you did go out, you were bundled up, unrecognizable. The only thing people knew was that you broke up with Harry and he moved on quickly, but that was it. So you knew Olivia didn't mean anything by it, but you always got a little tense whenever Harry was mentioned.

Oh, Harry. What a rollercoaster he'd been on. You didn't really follow his career closely, but it was kind of hard not to be aware of him. He skyrocketed with One Direction and without One Direction. He was everywhere.

He never reached out, never called to apologize. He didn't know anything about what happened to you after the breakup, and his schedule was undoubtedly booked, but it was odd. He was gone, like he'd never existed to you in the first place.

Seeing him so happy and so successful and so happy was hard, but you couldn't really do anything about it. All you knew was that Harry was thriving, and you weren't, and that had been a hard pill to swallow too.

"Ouch, talking about my girl's ex right in front of me, Liv. Now that's just mean," Elijah said jokingly. He was easing the tension that Olivia didn't even know she created, and you squeezed his arm as a thank you.

You chatted to Olivia a little more, liking her bubbly attitude. She buzzed with excitement, and not from any alcohol, as she was underage and the whole party was liquor free. She left with a wave to go talk to her friends, leaving you and Elijah alone.

He pulled you over to the edge of the rooftop, bracing against the railing. "I'm sorry about that," he said, rubbing his thumb across the back of your hand. "I know he's a sensitive topic."

You shook your head and took a sip of your drink. "It's fine. I don't know why hearing his name makes me freeze like that. It's been years. Almost a decade."

Eli pulled you closer, taking your drink from you and setting your drink on the balcony so he could hold you close. "You never got closure, and he caused you a lot of pain. It's okay to feel like that."

"I don't deserve you. You're too nice," you mumbled against the soft material of his sweater. Eli of course knew about Harry, he'd been a big help in reminding you of your worth. You'd done all the hard work, but he reminded you to take it easy and not be so hard on yourself.

"No, no, no," Eli said, taking your face between your hands so you looked him in the eye. "You deserve it all, baby. And I'll remind you every day of that until you believe it on your own."

"Fuck off, you're gonna make me cry," you said, leaning back against his chest. You felt the vibrations in his chest as he laughed.

Both of you were silent for a moment, and then he said, "You should talk to him."

"What?" You stood up straight, confused at his suggestion. "Why would I—I don't even—"

"You need closure," Elijah said, smoothing your hair back from your face. "You've struggled so much, and he was the root of a lot of it. You've come a long way, but you need to close that chapter of your life. He needs to know how much he hurt you."

What Eli was saying was right, he had hurt you, and you never really got closure from that relationship, even if you were the one to end things. But did you even want to see him? How would you even get ahold of him if you did?

"I'll think about it," you said. "Now, enough about me. This is your night, love, and this is no way to celebrate."

"Perhaps you're right, but I have one more surprise for you," Eli said, kissing your forehead.

"Huh?"

This was Elijah's party, or Olivia's party, really. What surprise could be in store for you?

You found out soon enough. At one point during the night, Olivia stepped up on the stage to say a few words. She talked about how truly appreciative of all the support from the people in front of her, and how she couldn't make this album without her producers, friends, and family, Elijah's name being one of the names she listed.

And then she presented her album. Sour. You stood in front of Eli, his arms wrapped around you and swaying as you listened to the album. When the first song ended, he leaned close to your ear so he could quietly say to you, "Listen closely to this one, baby."

You were going to listen closely to all of the songs, but now you were really confused. From what Olivia said in her little speech, this was a breakup album. If this was your boyfriend's cruel, sadistic way of breaking up with you, then you needed to prepare yourself.

But as you listened to the song, you realized it sounded familiar, and not just the concept, the actual words being sung. They were words you'd written in a journal years ago when you were at your lowest. It felt weird to hear someone sing your experience like it was there, but you thought if anyone could relate to your pain, it was Olivia (even you knew about the drama with her ex and the "blonde girl").

When you first met, you had walls up as high as the sky. You thought it would make him less interested, but he never stopped trying. Even so, you didn't know how to talk to him. You wanted to open up, but you didn't know how.

So you showed him your journals. Everything you couldn't say was right there written down for him to read, to make him understand why you were the way that you were. It was a long night with lots of crying—mostly on Eli's part—but it brought you closer than ever before.

And then later that night you were in bed together. Fully clothed, not even cuddling, just laying side by side. Eli looked over at you and said, "You're a good writer, you know."

You shrugged at the time, not thinking much of it. "I don't know, I just wrote how I felt."

"Yeah, but it's the way you said it. You just framed it really nicely, is all. Would make for a good song."

"You think?"

"Uh huh. But I would never do that without your permission or anything. That's your life. Your experience."

You told him he could if he wanted, but wait until the time was right to give it away. You didn't know if he ever actually did it, or if he did and kept it to himself. Until now, of course. It was undeniably your journal entries put into a song.

You'd wished you'd been given a little warning, but you were supportive nonetheless. It was just a surprise. Those conversations happened years ago, you had no idea that this was his plan.

"I thought it was time for people to hear it, even if they don't know it's about you," Eli said, kissing the back of your head.

His tenderness made you want to cry, but you held it in, seeing as you had a whole album to listen to. So you whispered, "Thank you," to him, kissing the top of his hand.

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

You were at another party, but this one was a lot bigger, and you seemed to have misplaced your boyfriend.

Eli had left to refill your drinks, and stayed put at the edge of the dance floor like you'd asked. With your hands clasped together, you watched the people around you as they danced, mingled, sneaked behind hidden alcoves or in large, single-use restrooms. It was definitely entertaining, a good pastime while Eli found his way back to you.

"Now how does someone who looks absolutely stunning get left alone with no one to dance with?"

You froze, recognizing the voice. It was older, deeper, but definitely the same as you remembered it from years and years ago. Your fight or flight kicked in, but you fought the urge to run in the opposite direction.

And he was flirting with you. Would he have done that if he'd known who you were? Did he do it because he knew who you were? You were too curious to just bolt like you wanted to, so you turned around.

"Oh shit."

You didn't know how you wanted Harry to respond, but you didn't think that was a good response. With a shaky voice, you said, "H—Hello, Harry."

"Y/n," he breathed, looking like he was staring at a ghost. In a way, you both were. "How—How are you? What are you doing here?"

"I, um, I'm actually here with—"

"Baby! There you are!" Elijah said, slipping his arm around your waist and kissing your temple.

Despite your worlds colliding in the worst way, you felt at ease with Eli at your side. He squeezed you comfortingly, ever the hero in your little story. "H—Harry, this is Eli. My—My boyfriend."

It was hard to gauge Harry's reaction, as he just stood there and stared blankly at you. Looking over to Eli, you widened your eyes at him, not sure what to do now.

"How's it going man. I'm a big fan of your work," he said, reaching his hand out towards Harry.

Harry looked down at it, then slowly took it. "It's nice to meet you, Eli. How long have you known, Y/n?"

"Oh gosh, it feels like forever sometimes, doesn't it?" he asked, looking down at you with a smile. "But I would say, oh, I don't know, four years, six months, and about two days."

That made you laugh. You punched his shoulder. "Oh stop. You made that up."

"I didn't, I swear! Don't act bitter because you don't know the exact number of days we've known each other."

You could've gotten lost in playful bickering, but you tried not to for Harry's sake. "How, um, how've you been, Harry?"

"Good," he said, playing with his bottom lip. "I, uh, I normally don't go out to these things, but I'm—I'm glad I did. It—It's good to see you again."

He didn't sound like it was good to see you again, but you didn't blame him. It was a lot. For the both of you.

His hands were fidgety, and he wouldn't stop looking at you, but wouldn't meet your eye. You wanted to talk to him, but you didn't know how, and it seemed that neither did Harry.

"You know what, why don't you two catch up? I think I saw someone I recognized over there," Eli said. Leaning down, he kissed your cheek. "I'm here if you need me, okay?"

Nodding, you sent your boyfriend on his way. When it was just you and Harry, you still failed to say anything. He just kept staring at you, making you fidgety as well. You looked down at your dress, wondering if there was anything wrong with it. It was a multi-colored, lace dress with a corseted bust and buttons running down the middle of it. You hated that he made you question your choice, but you did.

"You look great, by the way," he said. "Sorry, I didn't mean—I only meant—Sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

"It's okay," you said. "Would you like to sit down?"

"Yeah, sure, uh, after you."

You searched for a place for you to sit down, settling on a tall table towards the back of the large club. Harry helped you into your seat, then sat down at the seat across from you.

"It—It's funny, I was just thinking about you the other day," you said, trying to find a way to start this conversation.

"I think about you all the time," he said, his eyes widening when he realized he said that out loud. "Sorry, not in—not in the way that you think, I just—I've always wanted to reach out, but I just...didn't know how. I'm sorry if I just made things more awkward than they already were."

"It—It's okay," you said. Your fingers tapped against the surface of the table. "I know what you meant. This is all really weird."

"It is. It's weird seeing you...grown up...I guess."

Smiling a little, you said, "I know the feeling."

Harry was quiet again, looking down at his folded hands on the table. "So...Eli...It seems quite serious."

Now your smile was nice and wide. Just hearing his name made your heart flutter. "It is—We are—I—I'm sorry, I don't want to rub it in your face or anything. How—How are you? Are you? Seeing anyone?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "No, I, uh, haven't been seeing anyone recently. Just kind of been...doing my own thing, I guess."

"Oh. Well, that's good. It's good right?" you asked. You knew this situation was kind of awkward, but Harry was acting stranger than you were right now, which was saying something.

"It's fine, I just—" He didn't finish, his voice shaky all of a sudden. You could see his leg shaking anxiously under the table.

Furrowing your brow, you reached across the table, concerned about him. "Harry, are you o—"

"No, I'm not, I'm—"

Harry slipped his hands off the table before you could touch them. He smoothed them on the material of his pants, a pair of brown ones with a plaid pattern blending into them. He looked comfy and cozy in his pastel blue sweater, but he looked anything but. He looked like he was about to cry.

"I'm sorry," he said all of a sudden. You retracted your hand back, shocked by his outburst. "Sorry, I—I've wanted to apologize for years, but I didn't know how, and then I was scared, and then it felt like it was too late. And now you're here, and I thought—but you're not—and I feel like such an idiot. An—And now you're looking at me like you pity me, and I hate that, I hate that you've moved on and life seems so perfect when there are moments where I've hated myself for how I treated.

"I should be happy that you've moved on, and I am happy for you, really, I just—I don't know how I feel. I just know that I'm sorry."

He took a deep breath. It was shaky and since you were looking at him so closely, you could see his lips quivering.

Hesitantly, you reached your hand across the table again, palm up. "I...Eli was telling me that I needed closure from all this, but I think you might need it too."

Harry stared at your hand in the middle of the table. He eventually took it. It felt nice, but there were no butterflies, no giddiness. You didn't get that with him anymore.

"I guess I do." He took a deep breath. "I—For years I've felt horrible about the way things happened, the way I treated you, and how I let Isabella treat you."

You nodded. It wasn't your favorite pastime to reminisce about that day, but clearly he needed to get some things off his chest, and you needed to hear them.

"It wasn't great," you agreed.

"No, and I, um, I'm really, really sorry. I know it probably doesn't mean anything now, but I wish I'd done things differently. I was young and stupid and...had a bit of an inflated ego. The way I treated you wasn't right, and I've felt horrible...for years. Still do."

"It does. Mean something, I mean," you said. You debated whether to tell him what the aftermath of the break up was like, since he was already so obviously torn up about it. But you'd been torn up too. You had a right to share your feelings the way he got to. "I, um...It was not easy. After you broke up with me. I was upset, and while I don't blame you for your fans' behavior, but with you moving on so fast there were comparisons and unkind words and...Yeah, it—it wasn't easy. I was depressed for a really long time, so depressed that I—"

His face crumpled when your voice broke. He looked like he was about to start sobbing. Right there in the middle of this party. You felt the urge to as well, but you swallowed the lump in your throat, took a deep breath, and looked into his eyes.

"It was a really dark time, but I've healed and moved on. I'm happy, and I—I don't want you to feel guilty anymore. I want you to be happy too," you said, running your thumb across the back of his hand.

Harry sniffled, but he didn't seem like he was on the verge of a breakdown anymore. "I just wish I could go back and do things differently. I know I said I was young, and I was, but I was old enough to know how to be a decent boyfriend, and I wasn't, and I'm sorry."

It was what you needed years ago. Perhaps Harry's words could've saved you a world of hurt, perhaps not, but he was saying them now, and seeing him so torn up about how badly he'd hurt you, eased something in you, fixed the last fracture in your heart.

"I know you can't go back in time and fix things, and maybe if you had, things might be different, but this is the life we live. So, I forgive you."

"Really? You really mean that?" he asked, looking like he was about to cry for an entirely different reason.

You nodded. "Yes. For a long time, I wanted you to hurt as badly as I did, but now that I've seen you upset, I realize that's not what I want. We've both grown up, we've both moved on."

"Yeah, we—we have, haven't we," he said, looking at your clasped hands. There was a look on his face that you couldn't read, but before you could ask what was wrong, he smiled. It was small, but he did smile. "Can I—Can I give you a hug? Just one last one? For closure's sake?"

"Yeah, of course," you said.

Smiling, you stood up and walked around the table. Harry immediately wrapped you up in his arms. It felt comforting, but friendly. His cologne was nice, and his sweater was soft, but you were in love with a different cologne and sweater wearing individual now. Hugging him was nice, but he didn't give you butterflies like he used to.

After a good twenty seconds, you tried to pull away, but Harry held onto you tighter. It seemed he was squeezing the rest of his guilt out, one final goodbye. So you let him have it. You didn't think you would ever be close friends, but maybe you could be friendly. He finally did pull away, his hands resting on your shoulders with a small smile on his face.

"Can I say it?" you asked. "Just once?"

Harry was perplexed, looking at you quizzically. "What do you—Oh. Yes, I suppose it's only fair."

Your grin was big as you stepped away from a little. "Harry Styles, I. Was. Right."

Both of you chuckled, and it felt good. To laugh again. You weren't sure when you'd see him again, but this was a moment you felt good leaving off on. Harry's heart wasn't fully healed, but he would be, and you wanted that for him.

A hand was at your back, and you immediately turned to find Elijah there. Your smile grew even wider, your eyes closing when he kissed your forehead.

Since Harry was still standing there, you pulled back from your boyfriend. Eli asked if Harry wanted to leave and join the two of you out for drinks, but he declined, waving you off.

"Are you sure?" you asked. You just wanted to make sure he was okay.

"Yeah. You go. I'm supposed to meet a friend later."

"Oh. Okay. Well, have a good night, Harry," you said, smiling softly at him.

"Good night, Y/n."

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

Harry watched you walk away on another man's arm, and he tried to ignore the ache in his chest.

He didn't know why he just assumed you would be single whenever he saw you again, but he did.

Guilt was a nasty thing, Harry had come to realize. He'd been terrible to you, and once his head came out of the clouded haze that Isabella kept him in, guilt consumed him. He felt horrible for how he treated you, how he handled things.

And it didn't help that all of his friends were against him on that front at the time. Harry had been too dense about it all back then, but his band members weren't. They even egged his house. No one ever admitted to it, but he knew it was them, it couldn't have been anyone else.

Harry eventually got over it, then he wasn't over it, then he got over it again. It came in waves over the years, the guilt. And when he saw you tonight, actually realized it was you standing there...he was overcome by a hurricane of emotions. He felt like it was fate.

And then he saw you completely light up for someone else, and he knew that if there was such a thing as fate, it was cruel.

He didn't even know why he'd gotten his hopes up. It had been nearly a decade since you last spoke, of course you would have moved on. He had too, but nothing ever seemed to stick. For a split second, he felt like he was being given a second chance, and perhaps if he really wanted to make a fool out of himself, he could try, but he didn't want to do that. Not to you. You looked truly happy, and after everything he'd put you through, after what you insinuated...

You told him you forgave him, that you'd healed, but it would take a lot longer than today for Harry to get over that, to forgive himself for the hand he'd played in your pain.

So he let you walk away, let you be happy. You'd overcome so much, had found happiness despite everything you'd been through. Harry would be okay too.

He left the fancy LA party alone. It wasn't the first time, but it felt different. He felt lighter, yet heavier at the same time. Harry felt like you were right to say he needed closure, and he did need that. The past was behind him, sort of, but he would move on eventually. Just as soon as he put you behind him too.

[angeldcgs]

judging by how patsy presented herself now, it was hard to believe they ever could've had anything in common. he had to remember that she wasn't always the hyper-confident it girl who lit up every room she entered— at one point, she'd been a nobody, just a fan of the music desperate for a place among the artists she looked up to, just like toby. perhaps that's why she seemed more willing to get to know him than the rest of the band and their entourage, seeing a bit of herself in him and trying to help draw him out of his shell. "would she?" he couldn't help but feel bashful at the mere thought of bringing it up to her. such a question would probably come off as him fishing for compliments, and then he'd have to explain how he and ronnie had been talking about her after she left, and he didn't want to seem like he was obsessed with her. it wasn't obsession, exactly... more like a really, really strong intrigue. "maybe... i dunno. i think i'd feel a bit silly." they tended to talk more about the music than anything else, as that's what toby was most comfortable with, but occasionally she ventured out and asked about his life back in ohio, getting him to open up to her with that easygoing nature of hers. it was hard not to spill his guts, revealing tidbits about himself he wouldn't have shared with just anyone, entranced by that beguiling way her presence was both intimidating and comforting. things with the band hadn't been the easiest, thus far, but he didn't let that deter him. it seemed as though their standoffish or sometimes hostile attitudes towards him were more of a test than anything else, wanting to see if he was really genuine, or merely an opportunist. if he just kept his chin up and weathered the storm, surely they'd see he could be trusted, and they'd be more willing to give him what he needed in order to write his piece. "i'm not sure if 'easy to manage' would make for a good cover story," he answered honestly. "i knew taking this on would be a bit of a challenge— outside my comfort zone, for sure, but writing puff pieces won't get me anywhere. i wanna write something that matters, y'know? something people will remember." that's not to say that he wished to exploit the band for his own personal gain, though, just that he wanted to get close enough to them to reveal a side they didn't show to just anybody. it's not like they had to be afraid of him exposing them for some horrible crime— if they were just a passionate group of music lovers who liked to get a little wild now and again, they shouldn't have to worry about having their real selves immortalized in his writing. all rockstars were known to get into their fair amount of trouble, that was par for the course, but so far he hadn't seen anything that would earn them widespread public vitriol. having touched on a particularly sensitive nerve, toby's lips pursed as ronnie spoke of the band's hypothetical reservations, face screwed up in frustration, though such assumptions about him weren't completely baseless. perhaps someone else in his shoes, a sheltered small town boy given the opportunity to shadow a prodigious rock group, would bring their preconceived notions of what was appropriate behavior, but toby didn't have those sort of expectations. "i'm not— i don't have any prejudice..." he argued, his voice a bit more whiny than he intended. "not when i'm writing. biases don't make for good journalism— accurate journalism, anyway. i just think people ought to see the real you... the artists behind the music. knowing you more intimately will give your work context, it'll help people resonate with it more strongly." his outlook was a bit idealistic, seeing as he hadn't yet been jaded by the reality of writing for big publications such as rolling stone. he'd never had his work scrutinized and picked apart by a whole team of editors, his writing tweaked to suit a certain agenda that would sell more copies of the magazine. his intentions were pure, but that didn't mean the outcome of his piece would remain that way.

being loved by patsy was a special thing, it wasn't a surprise to see that toby was eager to be in the know of how it might feel. there was a lot he couldn't say, namely because of its explicit nature and how that might make toby feel but occasionally she'd reminisce sweetly about how he looked pressed up into a corner at one of their parties, cooing about how he reminded her about how she once had been, scared to take up space and unsure of how to fit in. it was hard to imagine her ever not being certain of herself, not with how easily she filled up rooms with the sound of her gleeful cackles and sprawled herself over any available surface, living or inantimate. she recognised something in toby that most of them were too scared to think about, the versions of themselves that weren't rockstars but instead scared kids who wanted to make something worth listening to. "don't know if it's my place to say, kid. i think she'd wanna tell it all to you herself." ideally when she had toby beneath her, with her fingers stuffed in his mouth so he couldn't interrupt. "ask her, i'm sure she'd be happy to give you a rundown." it'd be a good opportunity for him too, talking to the band and their surrounding groupies without them worrying about what they said ending up in some potential hit piece- which is what some of them were still hesitant about toby's presence bringing forth. most people didn't know what to expect when meeting a band like theirs, interviewers typically found themselves getting their feathers ruffled as a way of determining their intentions and it had been no different with toby, the only real change had been in his insistence to stick around despite all the feisty and, frankly, disrespectful behaviour. most people didn't take toby seriously and might never do so but ronnie still wanted him to succeed in what he'd come with them to achieve, even if it made him look soft in the eyes of others. "mm, would that have been better for you? something a little easier to manage?" he shot a grin across the top of his cigarette before once more letting his eyes wander. he wondered what other things toby had heard about them and questioned. had he pondered the level of truth to rumours of their promiscuous nature and then been embarrassed to see that it wasn't something invented to sour their image? a stupid idea, if that were to have been the case. each little snippet of what toby's life was like back home was deeply interesting to ronnie, even if the same couldn't be said for the information handed over. "i think... i think not everyone believes you're going to be able to write about us in a way that doesn't feel exploitive." he said, finally speaking up again after a long pause as he considered all that the other man had said. "picture it, this pretty little goody two shoes comes along and people are up in arms because no one thinks he's gonna be able to accurately depict their lives and not spread his own hometown prejudice onto it. that's why you've gotta get involved, you gotta show them that you'll be able to understand what you're writing about."

[kneamet]

Can I request something for Lincoln Six Echo or Jonathan McQuarry. Sorry for not having an idea I had one but now I can’t fucking remember but since it’s late I probably will remember tomorrow 

Illusions

Trigger Warning: yandere, obsession, stalking

Word Count: 2317

Character: jonathan mcquarry/reader

Summary: Jonathan has been watching you for a long time — even if you didn't know about his existence, and he didn't know your name. You were a sweet, desirable dream in his eyes, he longed for your love, wanted to at least talk to you... He felt separated, and Jonathan wasn't a particularly risky and brave guy to make you pay attention to him. but he wanted to protect you and that's why he walked you home every day.

In the air of the subway there was a bad smell of human sweat, fumes and wine, chocolate and those color perfumes whose owners you carefully avoid. The car, completely filled, rocked. It was not surprising — five o'clock, the end of the working day and everyone was going home, ready for dinner and a big TV, to his family, Only Jonathan, firmly grasping the silver handrail, diligently pretended to be an ordinary, normal person. A person who is expected, and not whom an empty apartment meets.

The whole life went round and round, repeated and repeated, was endless, like an endless salt bought once a long time ago or that program on an additional channel that does not even think is closed. The work occupied Jonathan's whole life, absorbed him and took away the last remnants of his life and aspirations, dreams with rough tentacles. After all, if you think about it, did he have a dream before? Was there something he coveted, maybe he kept and saved money for a long time?

No, he was a dummy.

Completely boring, an ordinary ordinary and unmarried clerk. How old was he? Thirty-five, thirty-seven? That was it... After all, it was completely unimportant, without meaning, and existence seemed monotonous, repetitive, as if on rewind, and forgettable. He's never lived, never been interested in anything. Maybe only in childhood.

The happiest moments that flashed through his head, he could only watch with a little boy in glasses, so demanding asking his mother to buy a new book. All childhood, all the memories from there, the events, were bright, meaningless and very awkward, somehow oblique, but in their own way, — so sometimes just wanted to return to native home, to the arms of mother.

Jonathan adjusts his falling glasses and blinks quickly when most of the people go out into the street of the lower district; a poor neighborhood filled with five-story houses and numerous cheap shops. He looks around again and once again hesitantly looks at the sitting girl — you. He squints out of the corner of his eye and immediately looks away when you raise your head, looking up from the ever — buzzing phone — you have a lot of friends and a lot of acquaintances, he knows. At work, you are constantly distracted by your old cracked phone when you sort through papers and fill out letters.

He sees you not for the first time, not for the first time and goes with you. The two of you are not in the same direction, but what a sincere pleasure it gives Jonathan, the pleasure of seeing you home and quietly wishing you «good night» is a recent habit, but how much it cost his empty heart. He always stood near that sprawling oak tree, clutching his briefcase, squeezing the leather handle and just sighing, watching the window open and the lights off.

You have to go to the last stop, Macquarie has known about it for a long time. Therefore, he has no choice but to sit down next to you, on the seat vacated by a large man. He put his briefcase on his knees, feeling their slight trembling and looked down at the floor in confusion, only occasionally throwing modest glances at you — and at your phone — but immediately cutting them off. Nausea and fear permeated him, completely — from head to toe — and made him feel painfully doomed.

He is not going to be with you, you absolutely will not succeed. Jonathan is not your type, absolutely not. He knows what kind of guys your type likes — self-confident, constantly getting into various adventures and coming out of them with a clear conscience, funny and sarcastic. He wasn't like that and that's why the gap between you grew bigger and bigger every day.

A satisfying name of the final street jumps on the panel and this allows you to exhale freely. Jonathan looked at you, at the way you walked to the door and couldn't help but admire you. So open, free, you were like a light butterfly, which one of his acquaintances was collecting at work. The best and most beautiful, Jonathan was sure you deserved worship and love.

And he was ready to give it to you.

As soon as the doors open, he follows you straight to the very exit, but tries to keep to himself so that he is not noticed. He hides, retreating, even if you don't think to look behind your back. As soon as he gets out of the stuffy and foul-smelling subway, a pleasant summer breeze blows over his face, with its whole essence suggesting the imminent rain, the smells of puddles, evaporated water and the body is in comfort.

Jonathan followed you, knew the way by heart, until you turned in some other direction. That's what made him doubt the correctness of his decisions for a couple of seconds, suddenly you saw him and suspected? until, however, you stopped by a small shop on a sparsely populated street and asked to make coffee. Your favorite. Even the coffee is wonderful; your taste was divine to Jonathan. He always bought a simple espresso or an Americano without sugar, just to cheer up.

And you helped him get a taste of life. There was something bright about you, something that set you apart from the crowd! Whether it was bracelets, rings or coffee, the location of the apartment or the appearance, Jonathan admired you, enjoyed and constantly recalled the incident in the subway when you accidentally spilled coffee on him — that's when he recognized your favorite. That day was, as usual, busy with work, endless cursory figures flashed before his eyes and were not remembered; he entered them into reports and immediately forgot. There was no time for personal life at work, and he didn't care about it.

It was hot and stuffy in the subway then, and there were more people than usual. Jonathan was standing close to a fat young man, the guy on the phone, and his chest to a girl with headphones holding coffee. He left work late, and it feels like he got into rush hour, like it's lunch time. How is his empty house? Can get a dog? Or a cat? There won't be enough time, he's always at work, always busy. There is no time to walk, and he gets tired. Maybe a fish? Have to clean the aquarium. How he wanted to take care of someone...

Oh!

Jonathan shuddered when he looked at the clothes with his mouth open— the white shirt turned dirty, brown, but the water was immediately absorbed. He looked at the girl and got an apologetic look, regretful. She mumbled words of apology, «I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to», «do you want me to do the laundry?» «Excuse me, mister», while Jonathan watched her in fascination. The girl fussed, calmly exhaling when people got off at the station and there were more places, and held out wet wipes in the hope that it would help.

Almost no one paid attention to them, and the girl herself would obviously soon forget about it. Only Jonathan ignored everything, and when she got off — at that time not at her station — he stared blankly, discouraged, missing his stop.

How beautiful you were at that moment! Like the number thirty-seven! Your jingling bracelets and rings, loose clothes, the memorable aroma of coffee and buzzing phone. Confused, shackled, with ridiculous sarcasm, then you didn't even know how deep Jonathan's heart had settled. After all, since that incident, work has ceased to seem ordinary, and lunch in the park a distraction from routine. He worked with enthusiasm and what was Jonathan's surprise when he saw you in the office — in a strict pantsuit, with sleeves rolled up to the elbow and suspenders, you were somehow very nice.

Jonathan used to go out to the park during a break, and now he went to the dining room, sat down at the far row against the wall and pretended to be engrossed in a book while looking for you. You were beaming, laughing and accidentally touching a guy in braces with your hand. Your lunch was almost forgotten and you were completely carried away by the dialogue with the person sitting. If only... If, Jonathan allowed himself to think, you sat down next to him, spoke first, would you laugh? Would there be a smile on your face? Or would you have no common topics and would you just take a break in silence?

Jonathan assumed that he would have bored you quickly.

Exhaling softly and restlessly, shaking the air with a trembling sigh, Jonathan continued to follow you, almost without meaning, along a little — known street to him — there was a school here, behind the fence, trees near the train part, and the path along which he walked with you was very crooked and oblique. In the dark, you can stumble over an inequality or a protruding stone, but Jonathan blindly followed you.

You were on the phone with some guy- or maybe it was a girl? — joking and bursting into pure laughter, like the sound of ringing bells. Gesturing violently, waving your arms, you weren't afraid to spill coffee. And Jonathan was thinking that he would definitely buy himself a coffee after he saw you off and wished you good night. Your favorite. His favorite. Fingers, sweaty with excitement, clutched the handle of the briefcase, he could smell the sweat coming from himself, and his shoes began to press in his little fingers, it became painful to walk. He wind themselves, worried.

Jonathan didn't understand what are you talking about and with whom, only occasionally, when cars weren't passing by, he noticed sarcasm or a joke. But he heard you, your voice — your alluring, forbidden and such a charming voice — was extraordinary. He brought to trembling knees and stupor in speech, sometimes Jonathan lost his way, listening to the intonation and knew that when talking to you, he would not find what to say. Will open her mouth and close it, he is not able to utter.

Jonathan's step was tense, unlike your light one, and he wished with all his heart that you would not turn around, look at him and reproach him. He would not have coped, he always gives up quickly and only now... only now decided to act, to show myself a «man». The guys from those movies on TV did so often — they went after their loved ones, gave gifts, flowers, and the richest and most expensive dresses. His wallet was incapable of that. Jonathan gave flowers, but you threw them away with the note. Probably thought it was from an obsessive fan, a stalker who molested you.

As you approached the house, Jonathan slowed down and turned the corner to a large tree with a direct view of your window. It was a large high-rise building, but he remembered the view of your window for a long time; the feature was the colorful curtains and the lighting garland. He quietly watched you from his seat: how you walk to the front door, how you throw away the paper cup and how the lights turn on in your apartment. Jonathan leaned his shoulder against the tree, adjusting his glasses and paying attention to the dark orange sunset, lowered like a puppeteer behind the skyscrapers.

The sky was calm, peaceful and empty, only occasionally there were lonely wandering clouds. Jonathan looked at his watch, realizing that he would have to stay here for a long time. The light in the apartment did not turn off before eleven in the evening, but even then he did not leave, he knew that you would be sitting on the phone and chatting; your fingers would tap on the phone and type a message, making such a strange sound, p. And he would stand, wait for your sleep and drink coffee, dream about you, think: what do you do? and to wish for a future together.

No one is waiting for him at home, and does he have a house? Not an apartment, in its usual sense, but a family, comfort, a place where you want to return and where you can hide in a moment of danger.

He has books, furniture in his apartment and nothing native, nothing close to his heart.

Tonight Jonathan was thinking about you, in a dream he imagined you in all your girlish beauty, stretching out a gentle hand and stroking his cheek, and he craved affection, missed her. His cheeks turned pink every time he laughed or stared at you, and something alive appeared in his eyes, something that had not been there for several years. And what was his most vivid recent memory? Jonathan couldn't remember, strained his mind, but everything was going to crash. He had only work and you in head.

How would Jonathan's evening have gone if he had gone home, got out earlier, at his station and stopped seeing you off, wishing you «good night»? He would remember the past, dream of an unfulfilled future together with you, holding back tears and looking at himself in the mirror, noticing a dull look, dirty skin that he would diligently rub in the shower; thin hair, an ordinary and gloomy face — as if he was a typical math teacher. Once again sat down at the reports and never finished them by nightfall, fell asleep right at the table.

Jonathan smiled, realizing that he wasn't alone — he had you. And even if you forgot about him, threw that meeting out of your head, he will be with you. Jonathan will always mutter softly under his breath:

“Good night and... Sleep well, beloved,” and go home to yourself, full of desire, delight and extraordinary happiness.

You were his sun in a meaningless and dark life.

i don't really like this work, but i hope you really liked it, and next time i'll write something more grandiose for jonathan.

today i reread "the red and the black" and remembering that there is a series based on this book, in which ewan played, i realized that i had to write something for julien sorel! he would be an ideal yandere, believe me.

and yes, @compulsivewriter111 and her post just makes me write the third part for ewan's characters. so in the near future, wait for content on his little-known characters (by the way, if there are any options who can be added, then write)

[hobisfavoritespritecan]

Vampire TXT x Reader

⚠️ Warnings: slight language, talk of blood ⚠️

In which you find out you're having romantic relations with the undead.....

It's almost Halloween!!!!! 🎃

Yeonjun

Takes full advantage of the fact that he's a vampire and he dresses gothic

Black leather jackets, boots with buckles, flowy ruffled shirts

He's been around for a looooooong time

2,574 years to be exact

But not one of those years did he ever feel complete

Until he met you

He had seen you walking from a café and thought you were the prettiest human he had ever seen

Which is saying a lot because he's seen a ton of people over the years

And he'd asked you out on a date

You said yes because you kinda had a thing for goth boys and for Christ's sake he was standing outside on a sunny day with an umbrella

When you found out he was a vampire you weren't surprised to say the least

I mean, he talks in old tongues occasionally and he dresses the way he does

So one day you said "hey wouldn't it be stupidly cool if you happened to be a vampire?"

Over a couple Twilight movies and a box of chocolates, you found out that you were, in fact, dating a vampire

So naturally your first question was "Do you sparkle when your skin hits the sun?"

He rolled his eyes

"maybe"

Soobin

Soobin had always been lonesome

He felt as though he had to exile himself from society because of what he truly was

So most of his days were spent reading indoors and trying to suppress his underlying thirst for blood 🦇

His bedroom window has a perfect view of the alley below, so when you were in trouble with a couple of guys that had started to surround you, he was already on his way down to help.

These guys were surrounding you left and right saying things like "you're so pretty" or "wait till I have my way with you."

Soobin got SO FUCKIJG MAD

So he goes on a rampage and kills every last one

Until he realizes- you're still there

That's what stops him from his fury and his attention goes back to you; ready for your horrified reaction

But you seemed fine

Enthused, actually

"Holy shit, that was so cool, thanks!"

He couldn't believe his ears; did you just thank him for eating random people?

"Wanna go out for dinner sometime?'

"Sure, as long as I'm not on the menu!"

Beomgyu

He's been a vampire for what feels like 4 ever 🙄

But his luxurious hair keeps him company and his weird obsession with cheese platters

But anyways, he's always dressed to impress and keeps up to date with all the latest fashion trends

He misses the 1920's

He most definitely was a flapper

So on one day where the sun wasn't particularly too harsh, he left his dreary house in a black T-shirt and jeans

He went to go see that horror movie people were talking about

Like he'd get scared, he's seen worse over the years, right?

Wrong.

He's such a baby when it comes to that stuff, and he clung onto the nearest person who could find, as he closed his eyes and tried not to get more scared than he already was.

And that person happened to be you

"Uh hello?" You asked

And when he looked up it's like all the scary went away as he saw the most beautiful person he'd encountered

"Hey" he said, and he leaned up against the seat trying to look cool despite the popcorn in his hair and the butter slowly running down his face

"So uh are you scared of this stuff?"

"Absolutely not, I'll have you know I was in WWI"

"You look like you're twenty"

"I am"

You rubbed the butter off his face that was starting to drip into his eyes with the back of your sleeve.

"Well Mr. War veteran, wanna leave this place and get something to eat?" You offered

Gyu shot up after you

You look like a good snack

Taehyun

Tae is a new vampire, or a fledgeling as they call it

He hasn't really had his first ounce of blood yet, despite being turned last week

He knew he shouldn't have gone out with that bartender :(

But, luckily he survived

Except now he can't go into the sun

He'll burn

Which isn't the worst thing in the world, because in his eyes it's the fact that he can't TAKE CARE OF HIS OUTSIDE PLANTS

HE WAS SO EXCITED FOR HIS BALCONY TOMATOES

Even though he doesn't trust other people around his stuff, he reluctantly found someone with basic gardening skills

He just didn't expect them to be so HOT

You walked into his apartment and noticed all the windows were covered with long heavy drapes

You didn't judge though, you had posters of Harry Styles all around your room

"So where are the plants?"

"The b-balcony"

You weren't gonna lie, this kid was cute

Maybe even cuter than Harry

You got your stuff ready and started working on Tae's plants

He watched you from inside

FAR inside

He was not gonna risk you finding out about his newfound power

But he could still admire you without the possibility of him burning

But then he forgot

That's the thing about new vampires, they tend to forget easily (that's just what he told himself so he felt less bad about his short attention span)

So he offered you lemonade and walked outside

And

HELL HELL HELL HELL ETERNAL FLAME FIRE WOW HOT BAD HURT OUCH CRY SAD

Crying bleeding losing

You saw smoke literally rising off of Tae's poor little head

And your response was to throw the lemonade at him because he was quite actually on fire

He fell back inside

And he was fine, but now he smelled like lemons

"Oh my gosh I'm so sorry are you okay?"

Tae just mumbled a "yeah" from the floor

Giggling, you helped him up

"I guess you could say you're pretty hot"

TAE COULDN'T BELIEVE HIS EARS

"I feel my heart burning for you"

You giggled, "Oh really? For me, huh?"

"Yes, really I'm actually on fire still"

"OH"

Hueningkai

This boy hasn't been a vampire for much longer than a year

But he loves it's perks

Flying, looking hot, super speed and super strength

Except one tiny problem

He couldn't see himself in mirrors

He always knew he was outrageously handsome

BUT HE COULDN'T SEE IT

And that really pissed him off

So he avoided all cameras and reflective surfaces to avoid suspicion

But then he met you

And you were a social media star

HE WANTED TO POST WITH YOU SO BAD BUT HE HAD TO PRETEND HE WAS TOO CAMERA SHY TO GO PUBLIC ABOUT YOUR RELATIONSHIP

Which made you kind curious but you didn't look into it too much

Until you noticed that Kai had a habit of avoiding ALL reflective surfaces

He wouldn't come into the bathroom when you were doing your makeup

He wouldn't ever be in the same room with you when you were filming videos

He wouldn't order drinks in glasses and would prefer to get the children's plastic cups with animals on them at restaurants

So you decided to conduct an experiment

You were gonna make him look in the bathroom mirror after your shower

You waited until it was a night you were both home when you took a cold shower (so that you couldn't get any steam on the mirrors)

And just when you knew it was time for Huening to be in the living room playing video games you called out to him

"KAI THERE'S A SPIDER IN THE BATHROOM"

You added in a fake sob

And sure enough your overly-protective undead boyfriend stood above you with a shoe in his hand

Right in front of the mirror

Except

He wasn't in it

"Kai? Uh babe?"

"Yeah?"

"Why are you invisible?"

"AH" he screamed and jumped into the shower curtain, knocking the whole thing down as well as all the shampoo bottles and soap

"LOOK AWAY LOOK AWAY" he cried from the tub

"Babe, what's going on?"

His feet rose up from the tub

"I'm a vampire"

"But you still eat pineapple pizza?"

"I CAN STILL EAT THINGS OTHER THAN HUMAN FLESH"

[rebeccccccaaa]

ʜᴏʟᴅ ᴀ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴄʟᴏsᴇ

_________________________________

ғʀᴀᴛ ʙᴏʏ!sᴛᴇᴠᴇ ʀᴏɢᴇʀs x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: you and steve hooked up once and neither of you can forget that night

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: smut 18+ minors dni plz, kinda rough? but of course major fluffy aftercare from soft boi stevie, bit of inexperienced reader and insecure reader

(accidentally written unprotected sex but this is fanfiction lmao plz be safe irl)

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇs: ive never participated in a challenge before and i think @honeysucklesteve is just the sweetest so hope you like it el! And congrats on 4k :T

__________________________________

“And the interesting thing about that, mind I add…” the words of your professor falling short because you can’t shake the feeling of his eyes looking at you.

You kept your head low fighting the urge within you not to look back. A couple nights ago you landed yourself in the bed of the infamous frat president Steve Rogers and to make matters worse, you both major in American Studies meaning you share all of your classes.

You didn’t have much experience with guys in high school so it wasn’t surprising when you had the same experience in college. What was surprising was the fact you spent a night in the arms of one of the most handsome men you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Steve Rogers was a huge catch. Teachers loved him, girls chased him,and guys wanted to be him.

You remember that night so vividly.

The way his hands fit so perfectly on your hips. The way his lips felt so hot against your own burning skin; and moved perfectly against yours. The things he whispered in your ear. They way he held you close when you fell asleep in his arms. The way you hated yourself the next morning when you snuck out. The way your tummy flutters simply because he’s looking at you right now.

You breathed out shakily before turning your head to find his eyes with yours; he looked away the moment you did shyly, very unlike him. Fuck he was gonna be the death of you.

“And that should be the end of the lecture. I’m gonna go ahead let you guys go a little early. Have a good weekend everyone and make sure to check your emails,” the professor gathered his things and left.

You packed your things quickly trying your best to avoid his gaze that you knew was still on you. Steve packed quickly too before walking hot on your tail, just about to call your name until…

“Hey, Y/n,” Bucky called out.

“Oh, hey Buck.”

“It’s the weekend and as usual the guys and I want to party tonight. But the dean said one more noise complaint about our house and we get on academic probation so we’re asking a couple of people who might wanna come to the club with us.”

Behind Bucky you could see Steve walking towards you two and your stomach sank. Bucky and Steve were best friends and you don’t know if Steve told him that you guys slept together last weekend. What if something happens again tonight if you say yes. Why are you even thinking that something could happen again? Steve Rogers is way out of your league it was a miracle that you landed a chance to be his bed warmer in the first place.

“I’ll see you for lunch, man,” Steve said to Bucky patting his best friend's shoulders. His eyes lingering with yours until you had to pull away.

“I don’t think I should,” you told him, walking towards the door.

“Come on, Nat told me you're quite the party animal and you left early last week I didn’t get to see you in action,” Bucky chuckled, walking with you. You didn’t leave early…

“Buck,” you looked at him.

“Please?” he asked. You exhaled sharply rolling your eyes before walking away to your next class.

“Is that a yes?” he shouted, making you turn around with a cheeky grin. You got to your next class and noticed Steve sitting in a new seat today, particularly the one next to the seat you usually sit in. None of his housemates or regular friends took this specific lecture so he usually sat in the very back corner alone. But today here he is.

His head snapped up when you entered the room. You hesitantly sat down next to him still avoiding his eyes. You set up your laptop on the small table as did Steve; both your eyes glancing at each other quite awkwardly until Steve finally interrupts the silence.

“You coming tonight?” he whispered.

“What’s in it for me if I do?” you said playfully.

“A repeat of the best night you’ve ever had,” he said cheekily.

“Oh, really,” you chuckled sarcastically as he nodded with an overly proud smirk.

“Probably not,” you answer his question.

“Seriously? Why not? I can pick you up,” he said.

“Steve,” you warned.

“What? Afraid you won’t be able to resist me?”

“You’re so full of it,” you said, making you both laugh.

“You were full of my dick last week,” he whispered.

“Steve!” you punched his side making him laugh hard enough for other students to take notice of your ruckus.

“Welcome class, we’ll begin the lecture in one minute. I’m just gonna pull it up on the projector,” the professor said rushing in.

“Please come tonight,” he whispered.

“Why are you obsessed with me?” you joked.

“Fuck off,” he chuckled.

“If I say ok, will you shut up for the rest of the lecture?”

“Maybe,” he grinned.

“Then maybe I’ll come,” you smirked.

Throughout the lecture Steve paid absolutely no attention whatsoever. Steve had been thinking about that night just as much as you had. The way your neck craned to the side a bit, reminding him of when he littered marks and bruises all over last week. The way you subtly bit your lip in concentration but all that clouded his mind was lust remembering how you looked so pretty from above when he was settled between your legs.

He wanted you again so badly. He wasn't going to lie, it sort of hurt him when he woke up and you weren't there. He thought maybe there was something between you two, god knows the tension was overwhelming that night. You weren't the most frisky woman he'd been with but you were sweet; slight innocence with your intimacy. He craved you.

Steve leaned towards you, his fingers twiddling with yours. You tried your best to ignore his advances despite how much you equally craved him. He ran his nose along your cheek and jaw and your breathing quickened inhumanly.

"What are you doing?" you whispered.

"Nothing, just relax," he responded. As much as he wanted to drag you out of class and fuck you so good, he knew you'd rip him a new one if he did. No matter how he'd make you feel.

"No, we're in the middle of a lecture," you argued.

"I'm not doing anything," he said humorously, you were not humored though.

"Steve," you scolded when he pressed a faint kiss under your ear.

You knew a guy like Steve was horny practically twenty-four seven, but you didn't take him to be quite clingy. Especially with someone like you. His arm wrapped under yours. His other resting on your thigh. His head tucked in the crook of your neck. It wasn't particularly sexual, but it was intimate. Something normal to couples, and you two were not a couple.

"Please come tonight," he whispered, “If not I’ll come over.”

"Ugh fine," you grunted, your voice breaking into a giggle because you did somewhat enjoy this unfamiliar attention.

Steve continued to sit next to you during the rest of your classes for the day absent mindedly teasing you, playing with your fingers, twirling your hair between his fingers, leaning his head on your shoulder while he held your hand. Like geez, take a girl out already.

By the time you got back to your shared apartment with two of your closest friends you felt conflicted. Why the sudden shift in Steve? You two weren't exactly best friends before, just two people who shared classes and accidentally slept with each during a drunken night at a frat party.

"Hey, everything ok?" Wanda asked you noticing your inner battle.

"Uh, yeah. Kinda. No," you said defeatedly making the girls chuckle.

"What happened?" Nat asked.

"That guy, that I… you know."

"Fucked?"

"Nat!" you said embarrassed.

"Go on," Wanda encouraged.

"Well, I never told you guys but the guy was Steve," you said shyly.

"What!" the girls exclaimed simultaneously.

"You're lying," Nat laughed.

"You really went from zero to a hundred," Wanda giggled.

"Guys stop," you whined.

"All day today, he's been like super clingy. Holding my hand and pretending he's like my boyfriend."

"Wait, I thought you liked him?" Nat asked, confused.

"I mean I do, but it's sudden and I'm pretty sure it's only because he wants to get in my pants again, you know?" you rationed.

"Awe, I don't think that's true. I've known Steve for a bit and yeah he sleeps around sometimes but he's not a giant dick. Doing that would be way too shallow, especially for Steve," Nat said.

“Yeah but don’t you think it’s weird?” you asked.

“Look did Bucky ask you about tonight?” Nat asked.

“Yeah, he did- how do you know that?” you asked, confused.

“Oh- Uh,” Nat paused.

“She asked Buck to invite you,” Wanda snickered.

“Why?” you asked.

“Well, you never go out with us and the last time you did we thought you just went home but apparently you were getting laid,” Nat cackled.

“Oh my- shut up,” you huffed before storming off to your room.

“Wait! Can you at least come with us tonight?” Wanda followed you.

“No,” you giggled.

“Please!” both girls said at the same time. As you closed your door with a grin on your face not responding.

Hours later you laid on your bed lowly listening to the soft rumbling chaos from your comedic roommates. You stayed in your not so sexy undergarments and not so sexy sweatpants along with a hoodie you stole from your brother before you moved.

You ate the junk you’ve stocked up on the past few weeks feeling a bit glum. It’s not that you didn’t necessarily want to go, you would love to spend another night in that gorgeous man’s arms but there’s absolutely no way Steve is gonna want you the way you’d like him too. Not sober.

There was a subtle knock on your door and you called out knowing the girls were probably ready to leave.

"How do we look?" Nat asked, walking into your room with Wanda.

"Wow, you guys look hot," you said sitting up.

"You think Vis would like this or is it too much?" Wanda asked sheepishly, she's had a crush on the foreign exchange student Vis for the longest time and had yet to make a move.

"I think someone's gonna have a lucky night," you wiggled your brows suggestively, making her roll her eyes and blush.

"What about you, still chasing Bryce?" you turned to Nat looked extra sexy tonight.

"His name is Bruce," she rolled her eyes.

"And yes, I am," she chuckled.

"You're so weird," you giggled, Bruce didn't seem to particularly be Nat's type but hey, no judgement.

"I heard he's got like a monster cock," you said.

"Shut up," she pushed you playfully.

“It’s always the nerds,” Wanda giggled.

"Anyways, are you sure you don't want to come?" Wanda asked sincerely.

"I'm sure," you smiled.

"Steve's gonna miss you," Nat teased.

"Yeah, I doubt that."

"Well, stay safe, cutie," the girls waved heading to the Uber that waited outside for them.

"You too!"

You sighed before grabbing more snacks to stuff your face with. A couple hours went by of sitting around watching nonsense on TV for a bit. You ate dinner that was far from fine dining but it was available before slouching on your bed until the late hours of the night.

You were practically falling asleep, tired and dry eyes glued to the screen of your small TV when you got a knock at the front door. You check the clock by your bed wondering if maybe either of the girls left their keys, but it wasn’t even midnight yet.

You clutched your phone walking hastily to the front door as quietly as possible creeping up to the peehole to see who would be your unexpected guest.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you swung the door open.

“What the hell are you wearing?” Steve retorted.

“My jamas,” you rolled eyes stepping to side to let him in.

“Seriously what are you doing here?”

“I told you earlier, you didn’t come tonight so I came to you,” he said, taking his jacket off.

“Seriously?” you tried not to smile, but the action gave you butterflies.

“You promised to come. I missed you,” he said walking up to you.

“You’re so full of shit,” you giggled, staring at his devilishly handsome grin.

“Come on, whatcha doing?” he said, grabbing your hand and taking you to the room. You three had a fairly small apartment and your light was obviously the only one on in the whole apartment making it easy for him.

“Well, before you rudely invaded my home, I was stuffing my face with all kinds of junk watching TV,” you said to him making him scowl playfully at you.

“Well, then let’s finish the rest of your junk food then,” he said laying on your bed. You still couldn’t wrap your head around the sudden shift in attention. Steve was a guy who could have anyone and he’s chasing you for some reason.

You weren’t a blonde bombshell with a perfect hourglass figure that made guys want you left and right. You had flaws that drew people away and you don’t think Steve remembers that night like you do. What if he hates your body? What if he thinks you're annoying and suddenly leaves?

“Everything alright?” Steve asked you.

“Uh, sorta,” you answered honestly.

“Come here, talk to me,” he said, opening his arms. You couldn't help your eyes narrowing at him.

“What?”

“Do you even remember anything from that night?” you whispered.

“Where’s this coming from?” he asked.

“Steve, come on,” you chuckled.

“What?”

“Do you just wanna fuck now? Make it quick so you can go back to the party-”

“Woah, who said anything about fucking?” he stood up towering over you making you suddenly feel really small and shy.

“I mean that’s why you’re here, right?”

“I came because I told you if you didn't go out with us that I was gonna hang with you. I didn’t say anything about sleeping with you. If you really want I can go home but I wanted to hang out with you,” he said sincerely.

“Oh, I- uh,” you stuttered; well now you feel like a dick.

“We can just sit and keep watching TV until you want to go to sleep and I can head out,” he said, sitting back down on your bed. You sat beside him carefully watching his movements. He kept his eyes trained on the TV for a bit before locking his eyes with yours. You turned away quickly hearing him chuckle before sudden movement escalated behind.

Steve grabbed you from behind gently and leaned back so you laid on his chest. You could feel the hard plains of muscles on your back. And the way his strong wrapped perfectly around your waist, it felt heavenly.

Steve’s jaw tightened from the hypnotizing scent of your shampoo. He remembered it from that night not long ago and he couldn’t get it out of his head.

He wasn't going to lie, since that night all he could think about was how smooth your skin was under his fingertips. How pretty you sounded when he was settled between your legs. How good it felt when your fingers carded through his hair. He wanted you so bad.

He wanted to wake you up between your thighs again. Ravish you once more before breakfast, hell eat you for breakfast. But when you weren't there sleeping as peacefully beside him like the night before, his heart tugged. Did he say something wrong? Did he do something wrong? What if he hurt you?

He gave you space, clearly evident you hadn't wanted to talk to him but those few days went by and the same lingering stares and shy glances came back again and he craved you in his arms again.

When Nat asked him and Bucky to invite you again out to party, he really wanted to be with you that night even if you didn't end the night naked in each other's arms, just being around you was enough for him. Fortunately here he is with you, with arms wrapped around your waist and Steve couldn’t be happier.

You looked so fucking adorable to wearing sweats and a hoodie; he wishes it was one of his own. You had fluffy socks on too that had dog faces on them and he swears his heart melted. What you two were watching was making you laugh and each chuckle or giggle that came from you was like music to his ears.

He couldn’t help himself when his lips pressed against the top of your head. Your body momentarily froze before relaxing again in his arms. Your arms laid over his and tightened so you could cuddle into him even more. Your eyes felt heavy and the feeling of Steve’s lips slowly reaching your neck didn’t help you want to sleep.

When his cool lips grazed your burning skin, you could feel your skin burst into chills. You practically shuddered in his arms and your face grew hot when you did. It all becomes suddenly overwhelming and you jump off on his lap turning to him with a distressed expression.

“What happened? Did I do something wrong?” Steve said worriedly.

“You did just want to sleep with me,” you mumbled tears forming in your eyes.

“What! No, that’s not it,” he panicked; using you was the last thing he wanted you to think he was doing, and wanted in general.

“Then what’s going with you? Ever since we fucked you’re suddenly attached to me, putting your hands all over me, pretending like you're my boyfriend! And I don’t understand why,” you said frustrated.

“I feel like your just using me or something-”

“That is the last thing I want,” he interrupted, his voice low.

“Then why are you doing this; Steve you could have anybody and for some fucking sick reason you keeping mocking me. Making me think I have a chance.”

“And you don’t think you do?” he asked, heart broken, making you scoff and turn away.

“Look, fine I’ll admit that maybe before that night I wouldn’t have made a move; but I’m gonna admit that I haven’t not felt something for you before,” he said, getting closer to you.

“What?”

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since we met. And that night didn’t do shit to help me get over you,” he chuckled.

You crawled to him carefully looking into his eyes for any sign that he was being untruthful; you cupped his face gently.

“Are you drunk?” you whispered.

“Not one bit.”

You pressed your lips to his feverishly and Steve nearly moaned at the feeling. His hands grasped your waist firmly pulling you to sit comfortably on his lap. His hands crept under your hoodie holding you close.

Your hands rested on his broad shoulders holding yourself up as slowly leaned back onto your pillows. Your cold hands cupped his face as you deepened the kiss and his hand went to rest on your bottom.

With this new found position, his chest pressed against yours, his hips grinded up allowing you to feel all of him. Every pushing second you grew needier and whiny, practically clawing at his shirt to feel his skin.

"So needy already. And I've hardly touched you," he chuckled lowly in your ear.

He sat up nonetheless and stripped his shirt revealing his gorgeous physique that kept you up at night and infiltrated your dirtiest dreams. You brushed your hands all over his chest with your bottom lip between your teeth; Steve smirking slightly proud of the effect he had on you simply by having his shirt off.

"Come on, pretty girl. I wanna see you too," he's whispered before kissing you softly.

"Wait, I don't…" you didn't particularly feel very sexy and instantly became insecure about your body compared to Steve's.

"It's ok, we can cuddle," he smiled.

"Well, if I'm being honest I do want you. It's just, I just ate all this junk food and I'm not wearing anything sexy. I didn't shave and-"

"Hey, I don't care. You don't need to impress me or wear anything special for me. I just want you to look pretty sitting on my face and make pretty sounds telling me how I'm gonna make you feel."

Your body trembled at his words, arousal instantly flooding from you. His nose brushed against your cheek dragging along to your jawline before pressing kisses gingerly to your jaw and neck. His hands slowly lifted your hoodie and you raised your hands letting him remove your hoodie.

Your shoulders caved in out of habit, being topless in front of handsome men wasn't normally on your schedule; but the look in Steve's eyes, the look on his face holding a hungry and adorning expression made you more comfortable, reaching out to cup his face kissing him deeply.

You sighed breathlessly into the kiss as Steve's hands rubbed your sides. You pulled away momentarily only to put your lips on Steve's neck. Steve felt himself growing harder and needier to see you, feel you, pleasure you.

"Pretty girl, I need you. Lemme taste you, please," he whined.

He picked you up and laid down on your back to pull your sweatpants down your legs. You lifted your hips for him and he smiled cheekily at you biting his lip. Steve lifted your leg kissing the inside of your calf staring at with those hungry eyes.

"I still wanna see you sitting on my face, pretty girl," Steve said, pulling to him.

"Are you sure? I don't wanna crush you or anything," you whispered, making Steve chuckle.

Steve laid down assuring you that he wanted this and grabbed your hand helping you straddle his face. When you did Steve kissed the inside of your thighs playfully nipping and marking the sensitive skin making you gasp.

Steve wrapped his hands around your thighs bringing your center impossibly close to him, finally licking a long and wet stripe up your slit. Your moans were soft at first but when Steve started circling his tongue around your clit, you could help getting louder and bucking your hips grinding on his face.

Steve’s eyes were close relishing in your sex. You combed your fingers through his hair and Steve moaned loudly against your pussy. He dipped his tongue past your folds and that along with the vibrations from his beautiful moans, you head threw back moaning in pure ecstasy, moaning so loud your neighbors were definitely going to file a complaint.

“Fuck, Steve. Your mouth feels so good; shit!” you whined.

His tongue circled your clit again quicker this time and you bucked your hips, tightening your stomach and squeezing your legs as you approached your high. Steve kneaded the soft flesh of your ass lapping up everything you gave him.

Steve crawled from under you as you held onto the headboard, still standing on your knees, trying to catch your breath. Steve came up behind you rubbing your hips softly, kissing the back of your neck softly. He quickly rid the remaining of his clothes he still wore, his painfully hard cock slapping against his stomach desperate for some sort of attention.

You breathe softly, hyper focused on the cum that slipped down your inner thighs. Your legs lightly trembled from just his mouth you couldn’t wait to feel what his cock would feel like, filling you up like it was only a week ago. Steve sat beside you looking at you with a soft smile on his face, his hand softly rubbing the back of your legs and your bottom too.

He reached around to grab your hip and slowly turned you around settling you between his legs; your back pressed against his chest as it was only moments before, more innocently than now. His lips sucked and kissed your neck as his hands cupped and kneaded the soft flesh of your breasts.

Your hands rested over his own and your hips squirmed a bit for eagerness. The low growl from Steve because your hips grinded against his cock was incredibly arousing.

“Such an eager little slut ain't cha’,” he grabbed your hair.

“Fuck,” you mumbled as he pushed you forward on your hands and knees.

“Want me to fuck you? Remind you how I felt buried so fucking deep inside you? God, I think about you every fucking night; how perfect you were wrapped around me, how beautiful you sounded underneath me,” he whispered huskily in your ear making you shudder.

“Stevie, please,” you whimpered.

His hands rubbed up and down your back as he chuckled darkly.

“Oh, I’ve been waiting to take care of you again, pretty girl,” he kissed your back softly.

He wrapped his hand around his cock slowly and languidly pumping it. He couldn’t help but tease slightly circled his tip along your entrance pulling desperate whines from you. He finally reached his own breaking point, unable to stand not being able to feel you so he pushed his hips forward moaning loudly at how tight you felt around him.

“So good, pretty girl,” he moaned.

“Fuck, Stevie. Filling me up so good; you’re so big,” you sighed.

“Damn right, pretty girl. Taking my cock so well. Fucking made for me,” he grunted.

His snapped in and out increasingly quicker with each thrust; the vulgar sounds of his movements and skin slapping against each other echoed loudly in the room. Harmonizing with both your pleasurable moans.

Chasing both your releases, Steve’s hips jerked rougher and harder in and out of you making you practically shriek at the feeling. He leaned forward wrapping his hand around your throat before pulling you flush against his chest.

“Such pretty baby,” he bit your ear.

“Fuck! Stevie I need to come,” you whined.

“Yeah, you want to come all over my cock? Make a fucking mess?” he growled.

“Please!”

“Hold on, pretty girl. I’m almost there,” he sighed, throwing his head back and closing his eyes in pleasure.

You whined and whimpered, tears brimming your eyes from that overwhelming feeling. You couldn’t help but clench hard around his cock desperately holding back for your release.

“Fuck, do that again, pretty girl,” Steve gasped.

“God, yes. I’m close, pretty girl. You ready to come?” he pulled your head back to look at your face.

Tears fell inelegantly down your cheeks, sweat lined your forehead, your chest moved rapidly up and down; to Steve, you looked ethereal.

“Please,” you whimpered.

“Let go, pretty girl. I gotcha,” he whispered against your lips.

Your eyes rolled back as your body shook against Steve’s, releasing onto his dick profoundly. Steve swallowed your louds moans, roughly pressing his lips to yours, moaning himself. You clenched hard around Steve one last time feeling his throbbing cock shoot hot ribbons of cum, coating your walls.

When you eased your way slowly down from your high, Steve laid you down gently pulling out to see his cum mixed with yours spilling from you. You looked so fucked out breathing heavily, whimpering at the loss of Steve inside you. He wanted to, but held back from taking you again. But not wanting to hurt you, he treaded towards the bathroom and turned on the water to run you two a hot bath. He picked you up gently pressing kisses all over your face and neck before planting one delicious kiss on your lips; your hands reaching around his neck to deepen it if that was even possible.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, coating your arms with soap to wash you. You laid against him with your eyes closed desperately trying not to fall asleep in his arms.

“I didn’t hurt you?” he asked softly.

“Mh-m,” you shook your head slightly with a blissful smile on your face.

“Good,” he wrapped his arms around you tightly, kissing you passionately.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, barely audibly.

“For coming to hang out with me tonight,” you chuckled. Your eyes felt too heavy, simply remembering the way he carried you carefully back to your bed and held for the rest of the night.

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (For all my work)

@mathletemadison​

@buckybarnes101​

@l-sofiamia-l

@pluto-grl

@partr1dge

@stefans-wife

@cordeliaswhore

@fleurlovesbucky

@wandanatasha0720

[duskamethyst]

covet.

a/n: a remake so some might have read this but i switched up a bit because i wasn't particularly happy with it.

word count: 2.2k

genre: mature, nsfw

warning tags: implied noncon at the end, stalking, yandere behavior

pairing: yan!iwaizumi x f!reader

summary: you find out that you are your best friend's obsession.

iwaizumi has always been a good friend to you; more like a doting brother that’s always looking out for you, cheering you up as he listens to you cry over the phone over a bad and sudden break up or helps you when you need a hand– whether it’s from studying or changing the light bulb and he never expects anything in return. he’s amazing and it’s rather strange that he never had someone special as long as you’ve known him.

you’ve asked him about his love life plenty of times before but he often finds a way to avoid the topic. though it’s unusual, you only think that he probably has a shy side to him despite how tense he usually looks. you couldn’t find anything wrong with him that could drive others away– from his looks to how he treats people around him. and honestly? he is too good to be true.

but when something seems too good to be true, chances are, it really is.

you know iwaizumi more than anyone else– with oikawa as an exception. you cling onto each other almost every day and you often go out together to finish up an assignment. your friends are always poking fun at you about liking iwaizumi whenever you’re with him but you’re always quick to get defensive, afraid of making him feel awkward and also because it isn’t true– you don’t really feel that way about him.

he’s aware that they’re just teasing but he couldn’t help the blush creeping up on his cheeks each time he hears the untasteful joke and his heart breaks over how you get quite uptight about it because boy, he actually feels happy at the thought of you having feelings for him.

as much as you think you know the guy, to iwaizumi, you don’t actually know him.

you don’t know how he feels about you, but he understands that. it’s his fault for not confessing to you directly but he also wants to protect the relationship you both currently have. iwaizumi doesn’t want to ruin it. he doesn’t want the probability of losing you when he knows he’s nothing more to you than just a friend. you don’t know that you’re the only person that fills his mind day and night, jerking off to the image of you before going to sleep. and you don’t know how he spends so many hours at the gym, letting out his anger and frustration to the punching bag when you tell him that you’re seeing someone.

iwaizumi is mindful of the fact that he won’t ever get to be your boyfriend; let alone the one to spend the rest of your lives together and it pains him for having someone so close but couldn’t quite reach for.

little that he realizes, he begins to have an unhealthy obsession over you.

he usually pretends to find interest in your relationships and hookups just so he can use it to his advantage just so that in a couple of months, you will run back into his arms and talk about how sad you are over it and blame yourself about how you aren’t good enough to anyone.

he feels bad when he sees your sorry state. it hurts him more than it hurts you but he keeps reminding himself that even though he is the cause of your breakup, it’s for your own good. of course he can’t say that out loud, he’ll just coax you with sweet words, things you want to hear like how you deserve someone so much better. he will tell you that you should look closer, find that person who has went through thick and thin with you but god– it’s a shame that you’re just so blind.

iwaizumi begins to stalk you at night. using an excuse to ‘watch over you’ when he only wants to see you at your most vulnerable state which he believes to be the ‘real’ you, unraveled. he wants to see how you are when you’re alone and unmindful of the presence of others, including him.

your schedule for your night activities differs each night so he finds himself lucky when he’s just in time to see you strip off your clothes piece by piece until you have nothing on before hopping into the shower. a loud gulp downs his throat when he watches you turn to the full length mirror, bare and perfect ass conveniently facing the window when you observe your figure from the side– probably to see the progress from that work out he has been telling you about.

his jaw clenches at how careless and oblivious you are of your surroundings (but can he really blame you, though?) but it gives him all the more reason to stick close to you so he can protect you. he can already feel his cock throbbing inside his pants and if it’s not for the fact that you don’t know that he’s stalking you, he’d say that you’re purposely teasing him. iwaizumi quickly fishes for his phone and takes the opportunity to take a picture of you.

he can’t help to imagine how you smell like after a nice, long shower. that mere thought alone makes blood rush to his dick. a whiff of you from each time you’re sitting next to him is never enough. he already memorizes your nightly routines; you skip two days to wash your hair, you have a separate towel to wrap your wet hair and the steps of your skin care routine and then you will proceed to turn on the music as you do your assignment on your desk.

that reminds him that he has better things to do too, but he can’t and won’t walk away until he makes sure that you’re asleep peacefully in your room. he wants to make sure that you’re not inviting some guy to your place because who knows who you’ve been texting when you’re not next to him? he still trusts you though, there’s no way you’ll keep it a secret from him. even if you won’t tell him, it’s not like he can’t go through your phone when you leave for the bathroom, and it’s not like you’ll notice the extra face ID in your phone’s settings.

it’s just a precautionary measure, he thinks.

but iwaizumi’s favorite part from his immoral activity is when you’re laying down on your bed, legs spreading as one of your hands disappear between your thighs and lips parting in inaudible whines. the look of your fucked out face as you cum makes his own body flush with primal heat.

if only you’d ask, he’d be more than glad to help you with your sexual needs. he’d give you the best fuck of your life until your little hole can only remember the shape of his fat cock; not anyone nor anything else would make you feel stuffed full and satiated. he often wonders how sweet you’d taste and how nice the sound you’d make when you moan his name.

oh how he wishes that you’re getting off to the thought of him. a guy can only dream.

“iwa, i’m in front of your house!” you say through your phone while pressing his doorbell at the same time. the door opens to a half-asleep iwaizumi, a phone in his hand and another rubs his eyes before inviting you inside.

“were you asleep? jeez, you look bad. did you stay up or something?” you whine, putting your bag down on the couch.

“hah, you could say that,” he snickers. “but you’re early.”

“why not? i bought breakfast too. let’s eat!” you chime as you walk to the kitchen and start to take out the food from the container and place it on the plates.

“sure, i’ll wash up and brush my teeth. hold on.” he mindlessly puts down his phone on the counter and strides to the bathroom.

after setting up the table, you sit down and play with your phone as you wait for him to come out. his phone suddenly vibrates and you glance to see that his mom is calling. you hate to pry but you innocently think that it may be urgent so you run to his room to where the bathroom he’s in.

you can hear the running water through the door, thinking that he would still be inside the bathroom. “sorry, you have a call from your mom so i’m coming in!”

though you’ve been to iwaizumi’s house plenty of times, you’ve never gone inside his room to study or finish up a project and he’d always keep the doors closed while you both do work in the living room. you were never really curious anyway, nothing would be interesting coming from a guy in his 20s. you’re willing to bet that it would just be a messy bed and clothes laying around on the floor.

but you’re dead wrong.

your heart almost drops to the floor as your eyes are greeted with a pair of your own from across the room. it’s placed nicely as if it serves to greet anyone that opens the door to the room. it’s one of your selfies that you posted on instagram from some time ago and it is one of the biggest pictures on the wall so there is no denying that it doesn’t immediately catch your nor anyone’s attention.

he has other pictures posted neatly on the wall, next to where he lays his head on the bed and the biggest one is in the center while the smaller ones surround it, built like a shrine that’s usually made by an obsessive fan for their idols.

as you walk closer, you realize that they are all pictures of you taken when you were idle and your stomach churns when you notice that they are all taken while you’re in your own solitude. it has one of your many expressions, from how happy you looked as you sing to how your face displayed lewd expressions when you were enjoying yourself during your sinful moment.

your breathing starts jagging and the voice inside your head tells you to run. and as you turn your heels around and reach for the exit, a pair of hands suddenly close the door shut in front of you– instantly having you pinned between the door and the tall figure towering from behind you.

the room falls silent for a second, you can hear your own heart pounding in your ears. you quickly try to collect yourself, though not daring to turn and look at him as you speak.

“h-here... your m-mom called.” you extend your arm back so iwaizumi can take the phone from your hand. “i... um... have to go.” you gulp, “i left… my stove on.”

classic, nice going. who even uses that excuse anymore? he’ll never fall for that.

you can feel the hair behind your neck start to prickle when he chuckles from your back. he’s so close, you can feel his breath when he speaks and how his voice echoes throughout the silent room.

“you didn’t even cook this morning.”

“j-just let me go, iwa.” at this point, iwaizumi notices you begin to lose your composure as you try to pull the door open but to no avail as he pushes his arms harder to keep the door closed. damn him and his strong arms.

“i’ll have to thank my mom later for bringing you here.” he laughs, wrapping his arms around your smaller figure and easily lifts you up to his bed before proceeding to trap you underneath his muscular body and grabbing a pair of metal cuffs from the drawer next to his bed.

it’s almost like he has been planning this all along.

“iwa, please– you don’t want to do this.” tears are forming in your eyes as you feel the cold metal graze your skin and hear the locking sound from above your head to restrain your hands from fighting back, as if you would have succeeded in the first place anyway.

“why not?” his grin is maniacal as he watches you wriggle helplessly underneath him. “when i can have you all for myself now? baby, this is all i’ve ever wanted.”

“you– you’re scaring me.” the metal rattles against the headboard as you struggle to free your hands, but of course, to no avail. iwaizumi’s eyes bore through your panic stricken face; your eyes are glazed and he can make up the reflection of himself in them. he feels rather accomplished– he’s finally everything and the only one that you see.

“iwa..” fat tears start to roll down your cheeks as you sob helplessly. iwaizumi seems to be startled a bit, then his face softens.

“how are you so beautiful,” he leans down to kiss both corners of your eyes. “even when you’re crying like this?”

you thrash your head side to side in a sign of protest but he gently cups your face in his large hands so you can look back at the pair of dark eyes that are filled with longing and desperation for you.

“i’m sorry. i’m sorry for making you cry.” he kisses your forehead. “i don’t wanna be like those guys.” he kisses your nose before letting you go and draws himself back to be on his knees.

what once your comfort has quickly become a nightmare. his height and taut physique has never been deemed to be daunting until now; when he’s propped between your legs while his hand reaches down to caress your soft thigh and up to undo the zip of your skirt.

“please, let me make up for it– make you feel better. i promise i can.”

duskamethyst © 2020 • do not modify, translate or repost anywhere.

[fadelbison]

what are the top 3 zeenunew moments that make you go feral? *chin hands*

Anon I ask you this seriously: don't you think it's homophobic to make me choose THREE moments - how??? I have shortened the criteria to just interviews/lives and not BTS/dates/DMD events for some peace of heart.

3.

Zee asking New to be his boyfriend

(X)

God bless Zee but he isn't particularly bright asdkjsfhksjdfh - this is terrible horrible fan service (because it only fuels obsessive behavior instead of the awww squeeee reaction hotspot). Technically, Zee should be too experienced to say something like this but the man runs on vibes and aesthetics and this was apparently the vibe in the moment (it really wasn't lmao).

This doesn't even serve to further their relationship in RL because New can't say yes, them being in an actual relationship is bad for business. New's soul just left his body, he's totally gobsmacked, his eyes have become tiny slits, the embodiment of screaming, crying, throwing up. He would tackle Zee to the ground if it were not for the laws of the land.

This bit has achieved absolutely nothing other than to drive me mad and I just *SCREAM*

2.

Nunew vs Zee's hoe shirt

(I dont know why my gifs are going right to left like manga but i can't change it - full video X)

It's the way my man doesn't miss a beat. He sees Zee's chest exposed he must cover it, he can react to filters, answers questions, button a shirt without looking at it - a man of many talents, true multitasker that New Chawarin.

But it's really how this struggle just keeps going throughout the live. Refer back to my previous comment that Zee isn't very bright - HE NOTICES THE BUTTONED SHIRT AND GOES OFF SCREEN TO UNBUTTON IT - oh the pains of being in love with a beautiful idiot

A wholeass FIVE MINUTES LATER New notices the opened shirt again and he's not even looking at the screen anymore, hands zero in on the lapels like muscle memory. This is how you know that this is Not The First Time New's had to shield Zee's dumbass virtue

(Again right to left - i s2g these are not the same gifs it just looks that way cause my man IS DETERMINED)

I WISH this was scripted because then that would mean that DMD has a comedy genius on their retainer. No my good sirs, I feel like this can only be conceived by someone who is very tired, sleep deprived, is on the third interview of the day, has to remember to appear cute, read questions, talk to people, give sensible answers and UP TO HERE with how everyone wants to fuck their boyfriend.

New unable to button the shirt this time folds the shirt closed instead. Zee - THE FOOL - dislodges it open and New tries to button it YET AGAIN, fails YET AGAIN and then just decides to keep holding it closed with his hands and proceeds to just...do that until someone POINTS IT OUT CAUSE ITS SUCH A WEIRD FUCKING THING TO DO.

And the next bit is just best seen and heard - like everything about this is just *chefs kiss*. Zee's 'what are you doing?' New doesn't bother to stop, doesn't bother to answer. The super soft and suspicious 'did you unbutton it?' Zee going totally off screen in response. New's 'meeeeeeh okaay' in the very unsubtle you're in so much trouble tone, Zee's NONSENSE justification. New telling him to just take it off with the most annoyed expression I've ever seen on him. A wholeass THIRD GUY coming in support of Zee's exposed chest. POETIC CINEMA. It haunts me in my sleep. My favorite part though? This was sometime late 21st April in Thailand so New was defending Zee's innocence the same time that I was defending my thesis. Very similar stakes I think. I feel very close to him in this moment.

1.

Zee (and the DMD team) showing New the ropes in SosatSeoulSay in particular this one. I think Seoul interviews are particularly good at showing how all the boys are supporting each other. She's quite shippy and direct so she throws New off quite a bit and he's often stumped for answers even in the newer ones.

But oh this one from months ago really highlights how Zee did so much of the heavy lifting early on to sail their ship since New would be totally paralyzed from embarassment at times. I linked the whole bit including Pure thirdwheeling and being A Whole Mood ready to film them with her phone

But idk just Zee guiding New through the interview, helping him through the shippy bits. He strikes a good balance of reeling it in like closing his eyes to help New through the moment but also embarrassing him when the opportunity rises because New's entire charm is around his innocence and awkwardness.

Look at this giant himbo looking so proud at making New feel shy. This interview is number 1 because this really sealed the deal for me. I am a hoe for when actors are focused on each other's professional development. Seeing Zee constantly adapt to NuNew, to be a good partner to NuNew agh it really pushed me off the deep end.

[shelby-love]

SIRIUS BLACK

A little Bit of Amortentia

Requested: yes

Prompts: none

Warning(s): none this is a certified fluff piece (2.3K words)

Author’s note: I had so much fun writing this! Harry Potter is such a great world, and I’d love to explore more of it. Requests for HP are OPEN!!

P.S for everyone wondering Remus is actually my favorite out of the Marauders

~

"Well I still think you're missing out," Lilly stated after a long rant and because of how sweet she was, she had decided to stop her mouth right at that sentence.

You only laughed lightly, pushing through the student body with Lily Evans hot on your robe. "Sneaking out to Hogsmeade is something I'm fine with missing out on."

She shook her head, determination settling hard in her brow. "That's beside the point."

"Then what is the point?" You asked, hugging your textbook closer to your chest. When you noticed that the auburn-haired girl was no longer by your side you bunched your brows together and turned around. "Lily? Lily, what are you doing?"

Her eyes were wide, bright green eyes blazing at you. "You seriously have no idea?"

You had idea of course. So much so that you felt embarrassed by the mere thought of it…

Him.

"Come Lily. We're late for Potions."

She shook her head and followed you reluctantly, only because she knew that your professor would surely be disappointed if you two showed up late. Lily and you were after all, Horace Slughorn's favorite students.

"This isn't over," She mumbled.

Perhaps for her it wasn't. Lily Evans tended to see the best in all people. It was the good in her that made her give in to James Potter little after Christmas this year after hating him her entire schooling at Hogwarts.

"He matured a lot," she would tell you, and while that might have been true for James it surely wasn't true for the boy you laid your desires upon.

Sirius Black.

Either he was purposely ignoring you, or he really was a dimwit.

***

"Amortentia is the most powerful love potion in the world. It is distinctive for its mother-of-pearl sheen, and steam rises from the potion in spirals." Horace Slughorn informed, keeping a safe distance from the steaming love potion. The rest of the girls in the class not so much. Each of them neared the potion little by little with a boy in mind. Lily and you both shared the same thoughts as those love-obsessed girls – only you didn't show it. Despite having boys in mind, Lily and you stood put.

"Lily, dear, how about you come here and tell us what you smell?"

You hard-pressed your shoulder against hers as she smiled shyly, obvious to what she was going to smell. James Potter stood at the other end of the assembly of students, looking at his lovely girlfriend with pure adornment.

For a second, they had you wondering if you could ever find love like that.

"Do you know why I asked Lily to tell us what she smells?" Horace asked, sending you a look that had a simple meaning.

"Because the potion is supposed to smell differently to each of us, according to what attracts us…" You answered quickly, just like he wanted you to.

"Marvelous Y/N. Good job," Slughorn praised you whilst ushering Lily to tell you all what she smelt. From the corner of your eye you managed to catch James' sly smirk as his eyes darted from you, to his very uninterested friend.

Sirius Black.

You swallowed, focusing your eyes on your best friend that stood in front of the potion, holding her hair so it doesn’t fall into the potion with a face as red as a tomato. "Vanilla, freshly cut oranges and –"

He cheeks flamed even more if that was even possible. She dashed away from the love potion and stood back next to you without revealing the third thing, although everyone knew already. James was grinning like an idiot. "What was the third smell?"

She shyly turned her mouth to your ear, "James' quidditch uniform."

You laughed out loud before Lily shushed you down frantically.

It was all fun and games until Horace called out for you, "Y/N would you mind telling us what you smell? Don't be shy now, come."  

A part of you wanted to say "Yes, professor I would mind." but the other more rational, and smarter part of you had tied your hands behind your back in defeat. Lily gave you a push and sooner than later you found yourself standing over the love potion.

"I-I smell…" You inhaled slowly, the potion's fumes filling you up. Several different scents found their way into your nostrils, making you have a hard time deciphering them because of the sensual overdrive they gave you. "Roses…the smell of sea and-"

"Oh no," you mumbled, barely audible for everyone but yourself.

"Was there something you wanted to say dear?" Horace asked, having heard your mumbling barely.

"No…I um, smell petrichor," You stated somewhat awkwardly but very, very quickly. "You know, um, when the r-rain hits the ground…"

"Ah, yes," realization dawned upon your professor. "A lovely smell. A lovely smell indeed. Very well, miss Y/LN thank you. You may go back to your place."

Lily Evans waited for you, beaming, "Mind telling me what the third smell was?"

"Shut it Lily."

"But I told you mine!"

***

You glanced at the sign above the pink looking door and sighed. Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop, it said. You had known about this small tea shop that was located on a side road off the High Street in Hogsmeade Village even before you had arrived at Hogwarts. A boy from Hufflepuff had taken you there on a date once, sometime during your fifth year. It wasn't an especially pleasant memory, being cramped and surrounded by snogging couples at only 15 with a boy you didn't particularly like that way. Nevertheless, it had happened, and there was nothing you could do about the lingering memory.

The overall cute place was owned by Madam Puddifoot; the same woman who dearly welcomed you in the moment you stepped through the door.

You hoped to spot Lily there, after all that's why you were there. When the front of your little notebook changed under the influence of the Protean charm, you knew it was Lily instantly. While the Marauders had their own tricks, maps and such, Lily and you had thought of something far more practical. It would do you good, the charm, as it was expected to be known by every student that wants to take the N.E.W.T.

A win-win situation that was.

But although Lily Evans was nowhere to be seen, you still decided to sit down, trusting her not to pull any tricks on you. Save for the snowy weather, your day has been good so far and you didn’t want anyone to disrupt it.

Cautiously, you sat down and leaned against the plush sofa, discarding your scarf and coat along the way.

"What can I get ya lovely?" A sweet woman asked, hearts practically swimming within her irises. A pale pink apron with daisies was secured tightly around her waist, dolling her up prettily.

"I actually won't be staying, I'm waiting for-" You started, although you were sure in the fact you were going to have to buy gilly water at the very least. Even waiting comes at a price here.

But that didn't seem to be the case as the bells jingle and a dark figure waltzes through. The ladies' man, a member of the Marauders that had the most beautiful features pursued by impeccable dark hair and grey eyes walked in without a care in the world. Sirius didn't know it, but he had your toes curling every time.

You immidiately glanced around the cute shop, seeing nothing but loving couples.

No lone girl in the shop save for you.

Realization struck you in the gut and you swallowed, wanting now more than ever to disappear into a hole…or turn into a little bird and fly away.

His eyes swept across the stuffed shop, getting attention of several girls who were obviously there on a date. Boys exchanged distasteful glances between themselves, sensing Sirius to be an equal competitor that could easily give them a run for their money. "Y/N?"

You dared to say his voice softened upon seeing you. "Sirius."

Sirius' smile widened teasingly. It looked like the smile he would give his best of friends.

But you didn't want that. Not that you would tell him that.

He glanced around the shop once again before slipping into the free chair opposite of you. Without a care in the world, he stripped his snowy coat off his shoulders, his muscles tensing under the movements.

You swallowed.

"I'll have some butterbeer thank you," Sirius said, pulling out a generous amount of sickles for the waiting waitress you forgot was even standing there.

"And the lovely lady?" She mused, giving you a wink.

"Pumkin juice." You choke out.

Like a real gentleman, Sirius halted your attempt to pay for your drink with a raised hand and a wink.

Why does everyone keep winking?

You shook your head at the rogue thought.

"4 sickles young lad."

Sirius handed her the coins and she disappeared, leaving a trail of literal hearts whisking underneath her steps. "Talk about exaggeration."

Sirius' low chuckle at your random comment had you flustered immediately.

"So –" You both voiced at the same time.

"No, you first." You said quickly, brushing some misplaced strands of hair out of the way.

"You can go fi-"

You gave Serius the look you would usually give Remus and James many times on many different occasions; the one that said not to argue with you. Only this time it felt like a completely different look. It intrigued the stubborn boy even more; dragging him deeper into the pit of feelings he had for you.

"Fine," he said, casually twining his fingers atop the table. "I have a question."

"Um…o-kay."

He smiled at your nervousness and decided at that moment to just blurt out the question that's been nagging him since it happened. "What did you smell during potions yesterday?"

"Y-you mean when I smelled the Amortentia?" The strongest love potion ever created that had the ability to reveal ones biggest attractions with a simple sniff. “That potion?”

"Mhmm," he said. "If you tell me what you smelled, I'll tell you what I smelled."

"You must be bloody joking," You exclaimed. Almost everyone knew that you smelled someone. Not just the rain and roses. Someone.

Unlike with Lily, they had no idea who it was.

No one knew save for Lily who probably told James.

Who probably told Remus?

Remus, Peter…

Sirius.

A million thoughts raced through your head. What at first was a blind date will turn out to be the biggest prank the Marauders ever pulled on someone. The biggest prank in Marauders history. You were sure of it.

"I-I should go," you muttered, grabbing your bag and coat in a haste to get out.

Sirius' eyes went wide in alarm, "What are you doing, Y/N? Where are you going?"

"Away from you," You said sternly. "I don't plan on being your new plaything so just leave me alone."

"Woah, woah, woah. Why would you think that?" He asked with what looked like genuine confusion as he held your hands in a vise grip to stop you from leaving.

"B-because…" Words stopped coming once you realized.

Telling him the reason behind it would ruin everything.

"Because you like me?"

You stared at him in shock, eyes widened to the size of a quidditch snitch. No, a bludger. "I don't know what to say to that."

Sirius outright laughed at you and your attempt to conceal what you both already knew, "Look…"

You swallowed.

"I like you too Y/N."

"I know, so let's just forget this ever happen- Wait what did you just say?"

The two of you were, unbeknownst to you in that moment, holding hands atop the cute table, looking like a real couple at that moment to anyone who walked into the shop.

"I like you," He repeated slowly, more audibly for you to comprehend this time. "I know I've been a…"

"Bully," You butted in quickly.

"No I wasn't!"

"Severus begs to differ," You reminded.

"Whatever," Sirius brushed you off, tightening his hold on your two hands. Warmth seemed to come off him in waves, making it all the more comfortable to be in his hold. No wonder girls fawned around him. "What I'm trying to say is – the four of us were idiots, and you were the girl I thought I didn't deserve."

You almost melted.

"So, when I saw what James has with Lily," He confessed. "I wanted that…but with you."

"So why didn't you come up to me?"

"Thought you'd reject me," He said quickly.

"True."

The way he looked at you had you tumbling down your brain for word, "B-but you've changed… And I like you too Sirius."

"I'd like to take you out somewhere else," Sirius proposed. "If you'd have me."

"Of course," You smiled, for the first time freely. "I'd like that very much."

Never in a million years would you have guessed this would be happening; Sirius standing behind you, helping you with your coat…

And holding your hand on the way out.

"You still didn't tell me."

“Tell you what?”

"What you smelled in the Amortentia."

The question didn't sound so attacking as it did 10 minutes ago, and you felt like you could answer it with more ease. "You really want to know?"

"Yes, I would like that very much."

"Fine," You stopped somewhere in the middle of the square, feeling quite brave and bold. "You."

He didn't look surprised, maybe relieved more than surprised. The relief shone in his grey eyes, you could see it. His long black hair blew against the wind that swept through Hogsmeade in a wildly matter. Sirius seemed closer now more than ever as he gazed into your eyes. Whilst you probably looked crazy in the cold wind, the weather only seemed to compliment the once a big troublemaker before you.

"Good."

You creased your brows, "You didn't tell me what you smelled."

Sirius chuckled, "You of course."

Pleased with his answer, you let him do something you've been dreaming about for quite some time.

He kissed you.

The kiss felt electrical, making your body go haywire. Sparks, as cliché as they sound, they were there, present from the moment the kiss started and until it ended. Sirius had his warm hand against your cold cheek, bringing you closer than ever before.

You hadn't shared this with any other boy save for the one you were with right now.

You didn't have what Lily and James did because their love was theirs and theirs only.

Sirius and you will build a love of your own. Something characteristic to you two only. Here in Hogsmeade, or wherever in the world. A long life was ahead of you and you, now more than ever, felt like you could do anything.

Even pass the N.E.W.T.

~

Tags (general (all posts)): @fofisstilinski​​ @short-potato​​ @miranda0102​​  @httphiddlestan​​ @caromichaela​​ @xx-missunicorn-xx​​ @jemmakates​​ @theravenclawmarauder​​ @httphiddlestan​​ @tclaerh​​ @chefdoeuvre​​

Tags (Harry Potter): /

Let me know if you want to be added to my Harry Potter tag list! My updated tag lists ♡

MASTERLIST