#only person she trusts is the girl she met two weeks ago in class

[clairyclue]

WHEN YOU WAKE UO NEXT TO HIM IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT WITJ YOUR HEAD IN YOUR HANDS YOIRE NKTNJNG MORE THAN HIS WIFE

[nr1chaedickrider]

I can only be me when i'm by your side - i'm not a monster.

As time passes recovering, you've seemed to found your place in Jihyo's arms.

cw: fluff, smut, angst, petnames, virgin!reader, sweet girl!jihyo, popular but not so popular!jihyo, basketball player!jihyo, both are 18 but they are students, mentions of death, drunk confessions, they fall in love pretty fast, lwk rushed, lmk if there is more ^_^, ~ 4k words

if you're thinking "hm! i read this fic somewhere... yes! its my heeseung fic from my bg blog @adorwoo ! which i wanted to use for jihyo !^_^ hope you enjoy anyway.

men dni.

It's not your fault.

It's not your fault.

It's not your fault.

It's not your...

Is it really?

The rain beats down on your black umbrella, the lines from Dahyun's letter playing over and over in your head. It feels like you're trapped in a vicious cycle, not being able to think of anything else.

But why?

Why didn't she tell you?

Were all those conversations about the mutual trust between you two a lie? Was it just talk to keep you from worrying?

If someone had told you a week ago that you had to be at her funeral because she had killed herself, you would have laughed at that person. Dahyun was always the happiest person you've ever met.

Even if you had been told that a day ago, you wouldn't have believed it. Because in theory, it's the stupidest thing you've ever heard.

In his letter, she wrote about how much she loved you, how she enjoyed every minute and every moment with you, how it's not your fault that she's not here anymore.

She's probably right, not just probably. She's right, and you know it. But you can't stop blaming yourself. Someone has to take the blame. Someone is responsible.

You could have helped her.

You should have helped her.

Tears run down your cheeks as you stare at her grave. Her family, her friends, they are all gone. You stand here alone, not daring to leave.

'Kim Dahyun

Born on may 28, 1998.

A friend, daughter and lover.

She will continue to live in our souls.'

It feels like your eyes are glued to the writing, you can't look away. You try to regulate your breathing, taking a deep breath.

A sigh leaves your mouth as you place the white rose next to the gravestone.

You take one last look at her grave before turning and slowly walking away.

-

"I'm Y/n, nice to meet you all."

You look at the students in front of you, all of them giving you strange looks. Of course, you are a new student, but you feel uncomfortable under their gaze. The teacher smiles at you and tells you where to sit, next to a girl called Mina.

It's as if everyone has forgotten about you again as the teacher starts teaching. You sit down next to Mina and she smiles at you.

"Nice to meet you," she whispers. You smile at her.

You can't talk to her for long because she starts taking notes for the lesson. You look around at the faces of the others. It actually looks like a normal class, but your eyes land on a girl.

She looks shorter than you, her hair is brown as well as her eyes. She's wearing a white t-shirt.

"Have you laid your eye on someone?" asks Mina, laughing a little.

"No!" you answer, a little too loudly, and you put your head on the table as a few people look at you. "I was just looking at her," you whisper.

"Yeah yeah... that's what they all say" she says.

You slowly lose yourself in your thoughts as memories of Dahyun come flooding back.

Should you even look at other girls? Is it bad?

Would Dahyun hate you for trying to find love again?

It's been more than two months since she died, but you can't stop thinking about her.

Maybe it's normal, your behavior. Your overthinking of everything, maybe you're not the only person who feels this way? Maybe there is someone else who is just as lost in their thoughts as you are.

Maybe you are simply not alone.

However, your thoughts are interrupted by the bell and Mina.

"I can show you a few things here at school if you want," she suggests, and you gratefully accept her help.

You spend the whole lunch break running after her while she shows you around.

"Why did you change schools anyway? Your old one is a pretty well-known one, and much better than here," she asks, before taking a bite of her sandwich.

The question makes you wonder, and you think about whether you should just lie to her and say that you moved, or that you were somehow bullied at your school - but somehow it feels wrong. Because you neither moved nor were you bullied. No, everything was actually fine.

Actually,

Somehow everything changed after her death.

Your classmates started looking at you funny, and you still don't know whether they are looks of pity or looks of condemnation because they blame you.

"I don't know" is your answer, and somehow it's true. Sometimes you really have no idea why you changed schools, but Mina doesn't need to know the whole truth.

She just nods in response as she continues to eat.

"The girl you were looking at in English, her name is Jihyo by the way" she says.

What?

"Why are you telling me this?" you ask.

"Because you were staring at her a lot - you looked really interested in her" she replies with a little grin.

"How many times do I have to tell you, I wasn't staring at her..." you laugh a little, but can't hide your despair. Why does she think you're interested in her?

-

"Watch out!" someone shouts, but before you can react, a basketball hits you.

You fall to the floor, your head hurts and you feel slightly dizzy as you slowly open your eyes.

The girl from your English class is kneeling on the floor in front of you, looking at you, trying to see if you're okay.

It's like a cliché high school movie.

"Are you okay?" she asks, a couple of other girls come over, but she just tells them to get something to cool off and shoos them away.

The things that can happen when you want to visit the gym...

You nod slowly, after a few blinks your vision is no longer blurry.

Another girl comes back and hands Jihyo a cold pack.

"Here, take this," she says and puts it in your hand, her hand on your shoulder to support you.

You hold it to your head, biting the inside of your cheek slightly from the cold.

Before she can say anything else, she is called by his coach, at the same moment Mina comes to you.

"I was looking for you," she says and helps you up.

You watch Jihyo jogging across the field before you leave the gym.

-

New week, new luck?

Every day you tried desperately to talk to Jihyo somehow, but suddenly she was always gone after class and you were never put in a group together.

But it looks like luck is on your side for once.

"Here's the list of groups, you have to give a presentation in pairs on a play of your choice," your English teacher announces.

You look at the picture projected on the wall.

Chaeyoung and Mina,

Sana and Miyeon,

Jihyo and Y/n,

Jeongyeon and...

Wait, what?

You read the list again and once more you see your name and Jihyo's name next to each other.

"Jihyo and Y/n," you say quietly.

"Are you happy?" Mina asks teasingly with a grin on her lips.

"Are you happy that you have to work with Chaeyoung?" you ask back - Mina doesn't answer.

Before your teacher can give you any more homework for the break, the school bell rings and everyone rushes out of the classroom.

You walk (or rather, run) to Jihyo who is packing her things away.

"Hey, I was wondering when we should meet," you say, and she looks up at you and smiles. You feel your cheeks turning red.

She puts on his backpack and stands up.

"How about Friday afternoon? My place?" she suggests and you nod.

She takes a pen from her pocket, "Give me your hand," she says, you are confused but do it anyway.

She opens the pen with her mouth, the cap between her teeth as she gently writes on your hand.

Her phone number.

It feels like she's giving you an autograph.

"Text me and I'll send you my address," she says, and before you can answer, she walks out of the room.

You look down at your hand and see a little smiley face next to her number.

You can't help but giggle as you look at it.

-

You stare at your phone - up to her front door and back down to your phone.

You are 10 minutes early and don't dare to ring the doorbell.

"You know you can just ring the bell?" someone asks you, you look up and see Jihyo smiling at you.

"I'm early, that's why-"

"Not a problem," she interrupts you.

She lets you in and closes the door behind her.

Her house is beautiful, modern and yet somehow old-fashioned.

"My parents aren't here, so I thought we could study in the living room," she says, and you nod, leaning your backpack against the table.

"Water?" she asks and you take it gratefully.

You drink a little before she sits down across from you.

You both leaf through the books, take notes, talk briefly about certain passages, but otherwise no one says anything.

Jihyo decides to break the awkward atmosphere.

"I wanted to apologize again, for the basketball," she says, and you laugh a little.

"You don't have to apologize, things like that can happen," you reply.

"Have you ever had a girlfriend?" she asks, and instead of answering, you are completely silent, thinking.

Memories of Dahyun come back while Jihyo looks at you and waits for your answer.

"Yes, I did, but she died a few months ago," you answer.

She nods slightly, "Can I ask how he died?" she asks in a quiet, polite tone, as if she really wants to make sure that she's asking something that doesn't hurt you in any way.

"Suicide," you say, short and meager, without many details (whether you know many details at all is another question).

She looks at you with a supportive look, one that makes you feel like she's really listening and that she really understands you.

Maybe she understands you even more than you think?

She puts her hand on yours with a slight smile.

"Thank you for confiding in me," she says, your cheeks slightly flushed, hers too.

You both look at each other for a moment before she lets go and you both go back to work.

-

If only the work had gone on for longer.

After the one meeting, you saw her every day of the vacation. Always with the excuse that you supposedly "need to add something" (does going to the movies together add something to your project?).

It's been more than a week since you first met.

"You're in love," Mina says as she parks her car in front of Jihyo's house.

"I-"

"Don't even try to find an excuse, it's all good" she replies with a small grin.

You both get out of the car and walk to her house, the music so loud you can hear it several meters away.

How Jihyo, who is slightly drunk, hears the doorbell is also a mystery to you.

"Hey guys!" she greets you, she shakes Mina's hand and gives her a kind of high five, she gives you a hug.

You smile at her as the three of you walk into the living room.

"I'm going to Chaeyoung," Mina whispers, or rather shouts, in your ear before disappearing.

"Y/n, do you want to play a drinking game with us?" asks Jihyo, you nod.

Maybe it was a stupid decision.

Jihyo and her friends (of whom you only know Jeongyeon) only understand drinking games to mean taking shots and asking stupid questions.

Either answer - or drink.

You always chose the second option.

After about 7 questions (maybe more, maybe less - you lost count of that pretty fast) you get up and say that you need some fresh air.

Since you've been to her house several times, you know where the upstairs balcony is.

It's quite big, with a parasol and two folding chairs. You sit down on one and close your eyes, your head throbs a little.

"Are you okay?" someone asks after a few minutes.

To your surprise (not really a surprise), Jihyo stands next to you before sitting down on the chair to your right.

"Yeah, it's just the alcohol," you say.

You and alcohol, not really a good combination.

Especially not when you're sitting next to the girl you're in love with.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" you ask out of nowhere.

She shakes his head, "I thought it was obvious" she says and laughs a little.

"I love you" you confess.

She turns to you, but before he can answer anything, you keep talking.

"I know we haven't known each other that long... a month?? more? less? but-... I just have this feeling with you that I only used to have with her"

"I thought I'd never feel it again," you say, a tear running down your cheek.

Jihyo looks at you, her eyes slightly watery.

Is she crying too?

"Y/n" she says, interrupting your continued rambling.

She gets up, kneels down in front of your chair, and -

kisses you.

Her soft lips on yours.

She pulls away after just a few seconds and you already feel like you miss her lips.

"I love you too Y/n" she says softly.

You look at her in amazement.

"Really?" you ask.

"That's why I asked if you had a girlfriend" now it all makes so much more sense.

She pulls you up and takes you to the guest room. She tries to lay you down on the bed but you pull her with you and she falls on top of you.

You both stare at each other and laugh a little.

"You're drunk, get some rest," she says, kissing your forehead.

"I'll be here when you wake up"

-

And she really is next to you when you wake up.

"Good morning..." you groan as you rub your eyes.

She smiles at you, "good morning" she says, from the look on her face you suspect she woke up just a few minutes before you.

You pull her closer to you by her collar and kiss her, she kisses you back while her hand is on your cheek.

The kiss is just perfect, gentle, slow, a perfect way to start his morning.

But it can also be perfect in another way.

It gets warmer under the covers as you continue kissing, she kisses down your jaw to your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses on it. You can't help but rub your thighs together a little.

"What about the others?" you ask.

"I kicked them out yesterday after you fell asleep" she says, continuing to kiss your neck, even nibbling on it, making you let out soft moans.

"Jihyo, I think you should know that I am a virgin" you say, your cheeks heating up a little in embarrassment.

She giggles a little, kissing you on the lips again.

"Nothing to be embarrassed about baby" she replies with a smile.

She gets on top of you, continuing to kiss you.

You think kissing Jihyo is the best thing in the world.

Her hands trail over your body, giving you a soft squeeze here and there.

"Can I?" she asks, her hand playing with the buttons on your pants.

"Please" you answer with a smile.

She complies and opens them, pulling off your pants and leaving you in your underwear.

You sit up a little, your hands on her waist, feeling up her muscles, especially her abs.

"Want me to take it off?" she asks, you nod.

She pulls off her shirt over her head, dropping it somewhere on the floor.

Your finger trails up his stomach to her bra, looking at her like she is a work of art (she definetly is one).

"Done admiring me?" she asks with a teasing grin, to which you reply "never".

She leans down again, kissing your face as she starts to trail them down till he arrives at the waistband of your underwear.

"Can I?" she asks again, "yes" you answer, already out of breath.

She takes your underwear off, her hands placed on your thighs as she leaves kisses everywhere.

You can definetly tell that she has a thing for kissing.

When she places a kiss right on your clit though, you let out a small moan.

She begins licking and sucking on it, making you grab her hair with your hands as your fingers curl deeper into her scalp, leaving a delicious burn.

She drags her tongue down as she circles your core, slowly entering it a little.

You let out more moans as you turn your head to the side, moaning into the pillow.

Her tongue feels so good when you realise that you are closer and closer to your climax.

"Jihyo- I think I'm gonna-"

"Let it out princess" she mumbles against your core, the vibrations of her voice stimulating you even more as you cum into her mouth.

She smiles at you as he sits up, watching you coming down from your high.

You smile back at him as your cheeks turn red again.

"Can I?" she asks, her fingers trailing down your soft skin as her nails scratch you a little.

You look at her hand, a few veins poking out, her fingers thin but long.

You look at her again, nodding.

You pulled her closer as she rubs your clit with her fingers, you suck in your breath as she slowly pushes them in, the little stretch burning in a way that makes you even hornier.

She slips them in completly, you let out a moan in response. She takes your hand with her free one as your fingers intertwine.

She starts to slowly thrust into you, kissing you again as her tongue explores your mouth.

"You're so tight baby.." she mumbles into your mouth.

You can't help but let out louder moans when she starts to speed up a little.

Her fingers drive you crazy, it feels like she is everywhere, you feel her everywhere in your body as she exits and enters you.

"P-please jihyo- faster" you moan out, and who would she be if she wouldn't listen to your wishes?

She speeds up her thrusts, kissing down your neck again as her hot breath hits your skin.

Your hand grips the pillow your hand is laying on, moaning against your arm as you can feel Jihyo curling her fingers.

She thrusts into you again before you moan loudly, cumming as your thighs close around her wrist, panting heavily as she lets herself fall onto the spot next to you.

You both stare at the ceiling, the only sounds the heavy breathing from you.

You move her hand to yours and intertwine your fingers. She moves her head to the side to look at you, smiling.

You think seeing her smiling is something you can never get enough of.

-

Idiots in love, thats how you two can be described.

The next few months were full of love. Kisses here, kisses there. It didn't even have to be sexual, no, it was always romantic, no matter what you did together.

After a few months, she gave you a ring.

"One day I'll buy you an expensive, real diamond ring and ask you to marry me," she said, and since then you've both worn the matching rings without taking them off once.

If only it had stayed that way.

It's late at night, you're lying in bed reading a book when you get a message.

"I love you,

I'm sorry" - from Jihyo.

You sit up and stare at your cell phone.

"What's wrong?" you type and send the message, she replies,

"I can't take it anymore"

She can't take it anymore?

You feel a twinge in your head as you suddenly realize something.

It's too similar to Dahyun's goodbye.

"I can't live in this world anymore" she wrote in her text.

You look at her location, and without hesitation you walk, no - storm out of your apartment and run to her.

She's not far away, a bridge situated over a river only 5 minutes away, and you think you've never been so grateful for anything.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to see anything while your clothes get wetter and wetter, the rain completly drenches you.

Again it feels like a cliché love drama.

Only maybe this time you have the chance to have a happy ending.

Your legs are burning from all the running as you arrive on the bridge.

"Jihyo!" you shout, the rain pattering loudly on the asphalt, forcing you to shout even louder for her.

Her bike is right next to her, one leg over the railing, her hands gripping it tightly, as if she's...

Scared?

"Y/n?" she answers, her voice low and shaky.

"Please..." you say as you walk slowly towards her.

She doesn't stop you when you take her hand in yours.

"Why didn't you tell me?" you ask, she looks at you as a tear runs down her cheek.

"I-... I didn't want you to worry. I thought this feeling would go away if I didn't talk to anyone about it," she says.

Whether your face is wet from the rain or your tears, you don't know.

"Believe me, you have to talk to me, then it will get better," you say.

Her face comes closer to yours and, without answering, she kisses you.

You kiss her back, try to grab her so you can hold her closer - but she lets go.

Completely.

You slowly open your eyes, afraid of what you will see - but you see nothing.

No one.

The rain completely overwhelms you.

"No..." you whisper, looking down on the floor and picking up something shiny.

Her ring.

You look out over the railing and see the water turning slightly red.

It feels like you're trapped in a vicious circle, like you'll never find peace again.

You are trapped, with no way out.

-

While other people find the rain soothing, you find it to be more like torture.

While other people would stay indoors in weather like this, you're outside again.

Again in front of a grave.

But this time it's Jihyo's.

Everything feels too similar and you hate it more than anything.

"It's not your fault" is a sentence you started to hate.

You hoped so much that you would never have to hear or read it again.

"Why didn't you talk to me..." you whisper, as if she could hear you.

Your hand clutches the letter, it slowly getting soaked by the rain.

You don't dare to move.

"You knew what happened..."

All time does is passing -

"Why did you hide it from me..." Your voice is full of despair.

And all you ever do is grieve.

"Life without you is no way to live" the white flower falls on his grave -

just like her ring,

engraved with your name.

She helped you recover from Dahyun's death.

You just wish you wouldn't have to recover over her death alone now.

In another universe, you've seemed to found your place in Jihyo's arms.

In this universe, you're left alone,

again.

[poisonlove]

Stay with me | t.c

Pairing: Tara Carpenter X reader

Summary: Tara had a nightmare and the first person she thought of calling is y/n.

Words: 7.6 K

Warning: Post-traumatic trauma

"Tara! What the hell happened?" I tighten my grip on the phone, wondering why Tara was calling me at 4 in the morning. Sleep fades away as anxiety takes over.

I had met Tara Carpenter weeks ago almost by chance, arriving late to class. At that moment, I saw an empty seat next to a girl with brown hair and without a second thought, I headed in that direction

.Later on, we exchanged pleasantries, but over time those exchanges became more frequent, with added walks along the corridors and chats after school.

"Are you okay?" I ask quickly, feeling a deafening silence from the other end.

"Tara?" I inquire, feeling the worry growing inside me.

I was bitten by anxiety, my lower lip trapped between my teeth as a thousand thoughts, none of them encouraging, raced through my mind. Recently, Tara had told me about the horrible experience she had in Woodsboro with her friends and sister because of two psychopaths disguised as Ghostface. She literally went through hell... losing friends, suffering horrible injuries, and the growing anxiety of being pursued.At that moment,

I had hugged her to try to convey my support. Tara had buried her head in the crook of my neck, returning the gesture almost hesitantly. I knew she was scared, terrified of the idea of trusting someone again and reliving that horrible experience.

But despite everything, she trusted me.

"Y/n?" Tara's voice was broken, her nose sniffling as she sobbed. "Tara!" I say with my heart pounding, waiting for Carpenter's words.

"Can you come over?" Her voice becomes weak as she speaks, sobs threatening to escape any moment. "Are you hurt?" I ask, terrified, anxiety threatening to drive me insane.

Tara sniffs, the sound of her breath making me even more anxious. Should I run? Take the bus? Call an ambulance and rush to her apartment with a weapon? But would I be able to kill to defend her? A thousand questions assail me, and just the thought of having to kill sends shivers down my spine.

"No..." she says hoarsely, and a sense of relief washes over me.

"Has he... come back?" I timidly ask, biting my lower lip.

I didn't know what the term Ghostface would provoke in Tara, so I just asked if her fear had followed her to New York.

"No" Tara says timidly, her sobs threatening to escape from her lips.

I relax and look out the window, seeing the city shrouded in silence, the light from some lampposts illuminating bits of the street, and cars passing by occasionally.

"What's going on?" I ask calmly, knowing the brown-haired girl was safe."I need you..." she whispers weakly, her nose sniffling. "I had a horrible nightmare," she concludes with a faint voice, her voice still broken.

"Tara..." I respond gently, my heart squeezing at so much tenderness. "Is Sam not there?" I ask as I get out of bed, searching for my clothes.

"No... She'll be back from work at 7," she says timidly.

"Is it really that urgent?" I ask, biting my lower lip, sighing. "Yes..." Tara replies hoarsely, and I know the only way out of this situation is to go to the brown-haired girl's apartment.

"What did you dream about?" I ask timidly as I put on my pants, the phone between my ear and shoulder to keep it up. "I... I dreamt of him again... He was killing you in front of my eyes, laughing," she says with terror in her voice, sighing loudly. "I felt so powerless and scared," she sobs.

"I'm here," I say gently.

I put the phone on speaker as I put on the sweatshirt Tara had given me. "When I woke up, I was crying, and not seeing Sam panicked me," she confesses quickly, and I smile at her words.

I was glad she called me because she wanted my company.

"I'm coming, okay? Just give me 10 minutes," I say gently, wanting to reassure Tara, and the brown-haired girl mumbles in response. "10 minutes," she says timidly.

She had woken me up in the middle of the night, but when it came to Tara, I didn't mind.

(...)

"Hey! sorry for being late, I thought some chocolate might..." I start to apologize for being late, but Tara's arms around my neck freeze me in surprise.

A smile spreads across my face as I let myself be enveloped by her warm embrace, responding to her need for contact. Tara seemed to have developed a particular affection in the last few weeks, perhaps she was scared to be alone. It was entirely understandable considering what poor Carpenter had been through.

I sigh and leave a kiss on her forehead.

"You're here," Tara whispers against my neck, the sound of her voice muffled but full of meaning, and I can only smile in response.

Her arms tighten slightly around me

"always," I whisper timidly.

Tara pulls away from my neck but her arms remain around my waist. Her eyes look at me sweetly, chin up and a dazzling smile showing her dimples "you're my friend, that and more for you" I confess a bit bitterly for the word friend.

Why deny it? I liked Tara, a lot.

Tara continues to look at me without blinking, a shy smile on her lips. I could see the freckles dusted along her face. "So... Did you bring the chocolate?" Tara clears her throat, her eyes pointing to the chocolate in my hands.

"Oh yeah," I say and chuckle timidly, cheeks reddened with embarrassment."Thank you, you're adorable," Tara smiles widely and takes the chocolate.

The brunette puts the chocolate on the glass table.

Then her arms found purchase around my shoulders, her nose brushing against the weak point of my neck. "Why did you want me here?" I ask timidly, my voice just a whisper against Tara's ear.

Tara sighs loudly and presses her face more against my chest

"I feel safe with you" she murmurs weakly and my cheeks flush red.

Tara looks at me and her cheeks were flushed.

I raise an eyebrow seeing how Tara's eyes were slowly closing due to sleep. Tara mumbles and yawns."You're sleepy huh? I could keep you company on call until you fall asleep" I chuckle timidly and Tara yawns again.

"No," Tara whines with a cute pout, and I feel her body curl up even more against mine "I was really scared... I needed a hug."

I sigh deeply, feeling the weight of her vulnerability and without hesitation, I pull her into my arms, trying to convey all my support.

"I... felt like that night when I was attacked," Tara continues, shuddering against my body as her words pierce my heart. "Alone at home... vulnerable... but terrified because I knew there was someone who wanted to hurt me," she confesses, and my heart breaks for her.

"I'm here," I whisper gently, placing my lips on her forehead hoping that my gesture can somehow soothe her suffering.

Tara sighs against my chest.

"Come on... Let me take you to bed," I say timidly, my arms around her waist. "Sam is coming," I whisper, and Tara nods against my chest.

"Will you take me?" she asks weakly, yawning, and I smile when I notice her firm grip on my neck.

I bend down to gather her into my arms, and we head towards the bed where Tara emits a small sigh of satisfaction at the contact with the mattress.

"Goodnight," I say timidly, leaning down to give her a kiss on the cheek. "No... Stay with me," the brunette says determinedly, her hands clinging to my hoodie."But Sam..." I begin, trying to express my concerns about her sister's reaction, but Tara interrupts me with a pout.

"Sam won't say anything, stay with me please," Tara whispers sweetly, looking at me with eyes full of hope and vulnerability like a deer in need of comfort.

Faced with her tender request, I find myself unable to resist.

I sigh and settle down next to her, feeling the warmth of her body close to mine and a smile graces Tara's face. "When Sam arrives, I'll go home," I whisper gently, feeling her hands wrap around my arm as if I were a plush toy to cling to.

"Yeah..." Tara responds briefly, resting her head against my chest, and my heart skips a beat at her response.

I sigh with contentment, allowing myself to be completely enveloped by her embrace, smiling weakly as I reflect on the evening (or rather, morning) we've spent together.

In the end, Tara doesn't let me go, and I wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

[aajjks]

mommy issues!JK

you and chaeyoung are what the kids describe as ‘friends with benefits.’ you both met in college, had a little fling that carried on until you both went your separate ways only to meet again as kindergarten teachers. it was awkward in the beginning but with your classes being across from each other, the two of you just grew closer and closer until that flame was reignited once more.

the last time you slept with chaeyoung was over a year ago since she was in a ‘situationship’ you had no interest in but stuck by chaeyoung’s side as a friend. when crazy was happening in her life, it almost felt as though you were the first person she’d call and you vice versa. so when tonight’s set-up, disaster, betrayal, or whatever happened you immediately phoned chaeyoung.

although your feelings for chaeyoung have sailed she can’t say the same. if she didn’t feel anything for you, you wouldn’t be on her couch with a glass of soju at 10:30 o’clock at night.

as you rant your feelings to chae, she’s hyper-focused on your pretty face. your beauty marks, your little freckles, and flawless skin that’s free of all the makeup adorned from earlier.

you’ve always been so pretty—too pretty.

“are you listening to me?”

“of course, y/n”

“what did i say then?”

“you said you feel like jungkook and nara set you up, which i think they did. i warned you about him, babe. i told you he was bad news”

“but what if i was just overthinking everything?”

“you aren’t. look—,” chaeyoung shows you her phone, an article from vogue’s official website has a picture of nara and jungkook side-by-side with the title reading: JANG NARA IS NO LONGER SINGLE!! WHO’S HER MYSTERIOUS SEXY BOYFRIEND?

“honestly, they look cute together”

“chae” you warn.

“whaaaat?? they do. i think so”

“she’s a horrible human being, chae. trust me. i think i’ll talk to him tomorrow”

“that’s why you keep getting hurt, y/n. you always let people in. thought i told you to stop doing that? do i need to remind you of what happened the last time you let a person with a dick in your life?”

chaeyoung knows that what she’s saying is manipulative and horrible. she’s comparing jungkook to your abusive ex ji-cheol but how else is she supposed to steer you away from him? he’s doing a great job by pushing you away on his own but to pull you closer, she has to lie. as your friend and future lover, it’s the only way.

“that’s harsh, chae” you say. “he’s already ignored me for a whole week and…i’ll just figure it out”

“you’re a smart girl, y/n. just listen to your intuition. it’ll never steer you wrong”

“you’re right”

*ding*

from mr. jeon:

I know that I fucked up, but please listen to me. I didn’t know that you were coming and this was supposed to be just a formal dinner… I didn’t know that you were invited here on purpose to be misguided… she did this on purpose, please please yn…. Please don’t leave me-I want to be with you

“is that him?”

“yeah”

“what’s your intuition telling you?”

“…ignore him”

“then listen to it”

and so you do.

it’s 12 in the morning and you’re just now arriving in your apartment. you toss your shoes by the front door and go face first into the couch. ‘thank God it’s sunday’ you think to yourself as you close your eyes and allow sleep to overtake you before you’re up again at 10 in the morning.

meanwhile…

“daddy wake up!” says an excited seol who’s jumping on his father’s bed before jumping onto him. “are we going to spend time with mommy today? please? pretty pleaseeee, i miss her”

~🫧

It was actually hard for him to come home last night because Nara wasn’t letting him go, he was quite drunk last night, but he didn’t do anything stupid thank God for that, but he was heartbroken when he came home and saw that they were no replies from you.

You’re really upset, aren’t you?

he would be too, if he were in your place, he would be upset too. But… How could you believe everything you saw?

He is a little angry at you because he told you everything about her and his relationship dynamic and didn’t just see the way she was trying to control him last night?

But then his trail of thoughts are interrupted when Seol comes into his room and starts jumping on the bed- Jungkook smiles looking at the only good thing in his Life.

“Hi baby.” Jungkook grabs Seol and begins to pepper his face in kisses, his baby is getting so big, his birthday is coming up soon and he’s so handsome and cute.

When he asks him about you, his smile, falters is a little.

“Ahhh you miss mommy? I do too, but mommy is a little angry with daddy.” He sits him into his lap- rubbing his eyes as Jungkook thinks of a way to talk to you.

“But don’t worry baby- daddy will get mommy back.”

______

Here he is- on a Sunday at 9AM on your door with some flowers and chocolates in his hands as he taps his feet on the ground while he waits for you to open the door.

It takes him exactly 3 knocks until he hears your door unlock- oh his heart is going crazy.

There you stand with sleepy eyes and yawning- until you realise that it’s Jungkook at your door. You gasp and he scratches the back of his hand before he pushes the flowers and chocolates in your hands,

“Yn.., what happened last night.. it wasn’t true. The articles are false because I’m not dating her and I did not know that you were going to be there. She did this on purpose and I don’t think that I should be the one taking the fall for this.”

“I think I deserve a chance to explain myself so please just wait for my explanation and give me a chance to explain.”

[purplemoonabove]

I don't know what is going on. My girlfriend has been acting... Well, odd was one word to put it. Along with secretive. Vigilant. Cautious. Alert.

In other words, she's acting as though about to get caught and wonders how much longer until she was in deep water.

She must be already sinking, or on the verge to drown because she called me. Normally it wasn't an unusual thing to do, especially when we started dating two weeks ago and we were meeting at the cafe where we first met, me being a cashier one night shift and her a customer exhausted from the college hell of work. But... you can't help but be concerned, you know? Especially when she called with a strict urgency in her voice, the kind of tone when in a desperate situation.

I wished it was over a school project, same class or not.

The scent of my need for life now capturing my attention, a cappuccino has been kindly placed in front of me and immediately calmed my nerves. A fellow co-worker brought it outside where I sat, off duty, under the shading umbrella. I was also the only one outside, the plaza environment vacant on a slow weekday morning and could give off a setting for less stress. Or maybe add it on. Her cautious behavior would have her believe she was vulnerable, exposed outside from the sanctuary of the cafe's walls. But what if she couldn't deal with the space, being claustrophobic despite being in the establishment more than once?

I groaned.

Man I am so hooked on her.

"Trouble in La La Land?"

Eyes opened, my attention went up to the curious blues, a red eyebrow raising. Tyler is my good friend, not just a fellow employee whose presence I'm used to around. He's aware of my relationship as he was one of the firsts to know about it – as well a common source for relationship advice.

It's corny to say that she's "not like other girls", but I can't help it being true.

She's literally the only one I had a crush on, and surprisingly returned the feelings.

"You can say that," I answered, picking up my order. I can catch the whipped foam as it melts by the coffee's heat. Blowing and a sip, the hot liquid calmed me down for continuation. "Something's going on, and... I'm not sure how to explain it."

"Is she cheating on you?"

I glared instantly. I trust her. She would never cheat.

Right?

"No." My voice felt final, for both of us. "She's not." My glare dimmed, the worry deflating its pride. "But there is something wrong with her. She's been acting strange lately: been looking over her shoulders, acting as though someone was about to jump her whenever someone passed by, acting all alert like an owl in the night."

Tyler hummed. "You saw any horror films lately?"

I shook my head. "Wouldn't be the cause anyway. She loves horror, it makes her laugh. I think it's either on bad acting, or dumb decisions characters make before reaching their deaths," I answered his questioning eyebrow. He met her before. I knew the same thought when I met her properly, too: she didn't seem like the type.

But then again, neither was I. My thought personally until we started going on, proving myself wrong.

He then shrugged, agreeing to the logic. "What about some bad confrontations. Like, some clashes against friends? Family?"

"Her friends are fine, as far as I know, and she doesn't talk about her family."

A sensation had us blinking. I totally forgot about that detail.

I told her about my family in the past. My mom, my dad, my irritable but still bearable younger siblings of five years. How my parents were strict but with reason. How they had to think it over before accepting me as a lesbian — something I am most grateful on knowing that they were listening to me. How they liked and admired my girlfriend, wanting to get to know more about her. Acting as though she was a new daughter to have in the family... But she never brought up her family. Not in random conversation, not in return of when I brought up the subject, not even in a request to actually meet them for the first time.

I don't know if her parents are even okay with her dating a girl. Or maybe they aren't.

Or maybe they were dead.

I really know nothing about her past. Just what she does in the present.

"Well," Tyler interrupted my thoughts. "I got nothing else other than she's a great girl – and is coming this way."

I perked up. Up ahead, I watched a woman in black skinny jeans and her favorite pink blouse rush down the sidewalk in her black heels. I always did admire how she was capable to run down in such accident-doers without possibilities of future trips to the hospital. I'm a sneaker girl; eighth grade graduation was the first and last time I wore heels, an inch high in comparison to her four. And even in an inch heel, I would stumble to close falls just to look nicely feminine. Not worth a repeat, even in a dare.

"I'll leave you be."

A part of me was glad for the departure. Not my fault because... I really can't believe this woman is dating me. Is letting me fall in love with her. Hold hands with her. Admire her beauty right at her conscious notice. Kiss, oh man kiss, those sweet pink lips whether smothered in gloss, painting by lip stick, or natural with chapped nature. I didn't care. Her pink lips were addicting to taste, and I enjoy it as much as my cappocino.

She was a sight. Skin a flawless beige with a growing tan. Auburn strands of flowing straightness that ended at her waist. Eyes a green that were of tinted emeralds under the sunlight's gaze. A matched height of five foot six with mine, sometimes of a few inches taller by her chosen heels. I didn't mind. A natural hourglass shape with equally natural proportions of bust and butt – not that I had noticed. (Side note: I am really grateful that she isn't one to do plastic surgery. Such a turn-off.)

She was just perfect. Gorgeous. Hot than any model from Victoria's Secrets.

She was a living goddess right before my eyes.

And my love was daily given at her temple.

I got up just as she slowed down, her whipping hair finally at a stop. "Hi," she greeted breathlessly. A shine of thin sweat came at her forehead.

She was beautiful.

I gently pulled her into a kiss, one she sighed despite her breathing. It was quick, not wanting to make her more breathless. Who knows how far and long she was running to come here? She also wore her mango-scented perfume. It was her favorite. Became mine, too, the more we were together.

"Sorry I'm late," she continued, smiling by the kiss.

"No worries. Came a few minutes early anyway," I assured, us sitting opposite of each other on the small, squared table. Perfect timing, as Tyler returned with a new cup: mint tea with three sugar packets, her chosen regular when arriving in the morning. And not forcing herself to lack on sleep.

"Thank you." She smiled to Tyler. He nodded in return before heading back, but not before tapping his knuckles against my bicep, acting as an unconscious brushing. That got me out of my love phase.

Right. Got to talk now.

My worries returned as she ripped all three and dump them in one hold. Despite the focus, her tension was obvious while trying not to spill when stirring.

Oh, man. She's definitely on edge.

What is going on?

Picking up the cup by the handle, she took a long intake. My eyebrows touched my hairline. Pretty sure I saw steam still at rest from the surface, and yet when placing the cup down the hot liquid was now half done. As if the drink was more lukewarm. I looked at her in shock and awe. She never ceased to amaze me.

Despite of it, a part of my mind was analyzing her features – not her beauty, this time. Face stressed on confliction. Hands cupping the still hot cup. Shoulders trying to not touch her ears. Breathing was normal, but at the same time, it may not be.

I didn't know what to say. Poor girl looked as though about to blow up, and the timing will speed up if I say the wrong thing. Should I ask her anyway? Communication is key, something I always heard. It would be best just to let it all out. Who knows how long she was holding it in, before it became obvious to a blind man?

Not to mention, I was worried about her. She never, ever looked this stressed out over anything but school work. Was it because of school work? Nah. None of the teachers seemed appropriate to have students look over their shoulders, checking to see if none of them were watching from afar. Heck, some of them looked ready for retirement. Why cause an overload of stress that you already do with homework and future exams?

Not school work. Not her friends. I'm pretty certain on that as they didn't look at her negatively, nor talked behind her back. In fact, one of them even requested me to look after her as they noticed something was wrong and didn't know, too.

They knew something was up, just like I did. We were all close to her, but she wouldn't let anyone know about what is going on inside her head (no movie reference intended).

I exhaled through my nose silently, determined.

I can't let this extend any longer.

Reaching over, I grazed a touch at her knuckles. She jumped, breaking out of her own thoughts as she stared in surprise, almost forgetting that I was still here and was silent, too. Gently, I moved her hand from the cup, which she allowed or didn't function yet to notice. She did, however, when my fingers touched at hers. Her fingers were hot, but thankfully – and surprisingly – left no burning effects.

Adjusting greens kept contact with my concern browns. My hand was loose in her grasp, allowing her to what she wanted. I didn't want to force her on anything she would feel uncomfortable about, but I also didn't want her to believe she was alone in whatever she was thinking about.

"Hera."

My voice made her fingers twitch but made no other movement.

"You... You have been acting strange lately." I wanted to sugar coat this, but I couldn't. Honest and direct. Rip the bandage off instead of inching the sticky texture, extending the frustration. Let it out and hopefully she'll follow. "You've been looking over your shoulders a lot. Sometimes freak out when someone walks past you. You become quiet very often, not even when you're studying...

"I'm worried about you, Hera. You have been on edge for days, weeks now. Please don't tell me 'I'm fine' because—"

"I'm not."

I blinked. I wasn't expecting that. Denial, forced assurance, and avoidance on the topic all together are what I expected, making herself suffer and me suffer as she won't let me do anything about it. But, no. She agreed, no hesitation.

Her hand then returned the grip. I ignored my heart's common race at our contact when also feeling the trembling from her.

I forced myself to keep it neutral.

She was tired from holding it for so long, but was still scared about it.

Her other hand wrapped over mine, the fading heat in contact to the back.

"Alexandra." Her head then angled down, breaking eye contact by staring at the table surface. In such angle, her voice was at a close murmur, "I know we have been together for a short while now..."

I immediately stiffened. My mind couldn't stop the thought if it wanted to.

Is she breaking up with me?

My heart pounded at my rib cage, and I felt my own trembles beginning to form.

I can't lose her. I literally just started dating her! I want to get to know her more. This situation, hopefully not a breakup, was something I chose myself to be a part of – because that's what supportive girlfriends do! I want to help her, be there for her, be the shoulder she could lay or cry on when she needed it.

I don't want to lose what are starting to have together.

Hera must have noticed, maybe caught on to my own little jolt when I stiffened. She looked up, and horror immediately got into her eyes when seeing my obvious expression. Her hands tightened around mine.

"And they have been wonderful!" She blurted, a quick smile to add on the assurance. "So amazing! What we have is the most lovely experience I ever had in forever. So lucky to started – and still am – dating you."

With the finishing touch of a kiss to the knuckles, that sappy romantic gesture a prince would do for his princess, got my body to relax again, a soft blush forming in replace.

Thank goodness... God, why did I assume that when there is a bigger issue here? One that I didn't even let her finish because I gave myself a heart attack? Acting as though I'm losing a wife I had for decades?

Either I am really hooked for the girl, or I really don't want to be single again. Not for a long time.

"All the more reason to ask of you..."

I blinked, catching her hesitation. I then squeezed my hand in return, hoping it would give some grounding.

It must have worked. An inhale was done...

Was held.

Then she looked directly at me. Her words spoke with a determination.

"May I stay at your place for a while?"

I froze. Eyes widened. Eyebrows touching hairline again.

My brain shut down.

...

Then rebooted a second later.

The words kicked in – then my blush kicked in, hard. My face had to be hot than the now lukewarm cups.

She again noticed my expression. I swear I'm a circus act without the circus. Her head dropped, but her auburn hair didn't entirely shield the red from the tip of her ears. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to blurt this out! I know that living together is a bit of a stretch, seeing that we've been together for a short period of time. But it's only a temporary choice! That's alright, isn't it?"

I was gaping like a fish, opening and closing without any words to spill out.

The idea was a little bit of a stretch, not going to deny that. We have been together for two weeks now. It wasn't like some Disney movie where our happily ever after was done in a matter of three days, a week if any longer. This was the last thing I expected to hear of. A year from now, us being together for that long? Oh, hell yeah! But now, even when temporarily?

On the other hand, this was exciting. Interesting. Amazing to share a roof with my own girlfriend over our heads. I know we hung out in our own places, her dorm across the street and a few blocks down from my apartment. But that was only for a few hours, an overnight sometimes. This is for more than a day. More than a week. Two weeks, possibly. A month if going to be that long!

My grinning smile then stiffened.

How long was she going to stay with me? And why did she needed to stay with me? Why did she need to stay with anyone?

My confusion took away my smile, and I brought my spare hand up to soothe by fingering through her hair. She always liked that. Almost becomes of pudding in my hands when I was gentle to her hair. Her grip on my covered hand was loosening, but not letting go.

My hand then trailed over from her head to her revealed cheek as she brought her face back up. Her blush was still visible, but so was her uncertainty. It wasn't just embarrassing; it was difficult for her to handle this.

"I wouldn't mind."

Hope began to radiate in Hera's eyes.

"But... why though?"

The hope began to diminish. She attempted to look away, but I wasn't having it. She was letting me be part of what was going on, and I was not going to let her shut me out now. I made sure her face was centered across from me again.

She didn't look at me back.

I didn't force her. Just waited, my thumb gently rubbing her cheek.

Then, in a whisper that had my ears straining a bit.

"I just don't want to be alone."

I hated how my heart ached on her words. How I knew what they actually meant. Something was going on, and I didn't force her to tell me, but she was letting me in. Hera hid this issue for so long. Now, she didn't want to through with it any longer, and by herself.

Her being alone wasn't why I hated the words.

Because I knew her words had a deeper message: this wasn't her first time going through it. Not by a long shot.

.

.

.

I would say she's better. Not entirely but was getting there.

I can't say I could judge her, either. Not like I would, Hera being my amazing girlfriend who suddenly asked to move in with me - temporarily. I got to remember that more. All because she didn't want to be alone. I get that. For sure. Understood that concept entirely. But that deep information that led to its existence...? That I'm still unaware of.

It has been three days, the starting fourth like the past years of my life with a cup of coffee. The only difference was within these four days, Hera was brewing before I could. She was getting better - or has been "handsy" in a new environment outside of her dorm: been doing chores, getting errands done - and surprisingly fast than me, doing her college assignments, and when we're both free just chill and watch some Amazon Prime. (Personally, I'm more of a Netflix girl, but I respect my girlfriend's hatred; I too can relate to the frustration and heartbreak of a cancelled show.) She was slowly becoming herself again. No longer did she constantly look over her shoulders, nor became tensed up whenever someone past by her.

Although, on the second day together, around the afternoon came a thunderstorm.

Now, from what I learned from her about them is that she doesn't give a damn about them. If she looked up to a window and a flash of lightning illuminated the dark clouds for a second, following the trembles of incoming thunder, she hardly blinked an eye. In fact, she looked at thunderstorms like a college student trying to make it through a boring class they were required to attend without falling asleep. A total nuisance to her.

And yet, that afternoon, she somehow got a panic attack.

I never seen her this panicked before; the other times were of a child's temperate fear of a monster in the closet in comparison. Unfortunately, expertise on managing a panic attack was never learned for my understanding. I blame Health class; CPRs weren't the right use in this situation. But what I did for her somehow was the right reaction after it was over: talking to her; distracting her; help her on her breathing until she was calm enough to accept my earbuds and listen to a playlist of music I love, most songs she also knew and loved, before falling asleep with her cheek on my shoulder. It freaked me out, too, being unaware of what to do in that moment.

I never asked about the reason about it. It felt too insensitive, and she didn't mention on it. Just gave a 'thank you' and a goodbye kiss before heading off to class, the moment forgotten. At least, to her.

I felt it was my business to know the moment I was in this situation. As much as I loved having her around, it wasn't on a good term. I wanted to know the reason why she got that panic attack. Why she didn't want to be by herself when asking to move in. Why she was still holding back on this secret that was slowly killing herself inside, my apartment making it settle for a short while.

I sighed. Three hours since attending her first period, and I'm just here at home, trying to distract myself with an old cartoon poorly. My mind was too clustered with this to feel any relief right now.

Slouching back on my wheeled chair, eyes wandered from my macbook to the balcony. Glass sliding doors at a locked close displayed the other apartments, a few trees and grass patches like decorations, and the sky now blanketed by gray again. It didn't look dark enough to cause another bad thunderstorm, not as bad as the one that caused the panic attack. Maybe. Possibly a light showering will come today.

"I hope you're alright, Hera," my lips muttered the concern.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Blinked. Attention went to the front hallway, having me leave my seat. I don't remember buying anything from Amazon lately. Hera didn't tell me anything about an order. Then again, my mind redirected. When have they ever knocked anymore? Probably was a neighbor, or an annoying salesman.

Three more knocks came after to confirm: not Amazon.

Just a stranger, present and persistent with held patience.

"I'm coming!" I called, letting their patience be soothed a bit. I can understand the growing frustration that can overcome patience if not done soon enough. Three steps in from my call, and I reached out to the knob--

"Ow!"

I jolted, stepping back and looked at my hand. Not a burn grew at my fingertip where I felt this sudden... shock before I could touch the cool metal.

Weird.

Letting it go, I reached out again. No shock - not physically. Because when I opened the door...

"Yes...?"

Any word to say after died out. My entire body was frozen as though accidentally stepping into an environment that will entirely paralyze you from head to toe. My eyes widened just beforehand, as well as my breathing hitched. In such a stance, I had become a military soldier: body in place, arms at the side, hardly showed breathing, and made sure eye contact was to never be given by the passing higher rank that is my officer.

But I wasn't in the military. There was no higher rank to overpower the no-rank position I bear. I was standing in shock at the front entrance of my apartment, standing opposite to a man that looked too gorgeous to be real. I may be a lesbian, but that doesn't mean I don't understand good taste.

He was buff, whether a body builder or in the process of becoming a world time wrestler. Bore of a beard that laid as a hairy blanket at his jawline, connected to his mustache and blending with locks of hair that sat at his shoulders, all of it in a sweet auburn. Green eyes held of a flame that can easily engulf me, but also would turn me into instant ash. Such eyes cause a shiver to voluntarily run down my spine. Skin was sun-kissed, slightly darker than my girlfriend's.

He could be Chris Hemsworth, but with brown hair and in a modern wear than his Thor costume. He got the navy trousers and buffed brown pointed shoes, but the white buttoned-down was left without a blazer or those long ties. In fact, three of his top buttons were free, letting air to touch the peaking-out chest hair, and the long sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. No tattoos, no scars, no nothing. Just flawless skin with arms twice as thick as my arm, and three times as strong to snap my neck with one of those beefy hands.

The reality slowly brought me back. Was he a businessman who left work, or worked at home? Or got lost from a meeting and needed some help...?

Why could to a stranger's house though?

This was getting weird. My mind was acting weird.

"Afternoon."

Blinked. There was low thunder from afar at my right. His voice was so deep it was close to match the sound. A close echo.

"Uh." It took a few seconds before my mouth restarted to use properly. "Afternoon," I returned. "May I help you?"

"Yes." He straightened up with arms at his back. Now he looked like a soldier at ease, while also showing off a thin waistline. He was close to a hourglass figure. I don't care, but still. Not something you can't miss. "I was wondering if you happened to know of a brunette woman that goes by the name of Hera."

Thoughts of his thin waist were wiped cleaner than a whiteboard. My heart slammed at my chest that I was sure that it was visible under my anime-themed shirt. I wished I kept face, but I knew my eyebrows jumped at the mention of my girlfriend's name. Not to mention the rapidity of thoughts that came to mind.

How does he know her? Who was this guy? Should I tell him? But she never mentioned anything about him. What did he want with Hera?

Flashes as lightning were of faces of Hera. Her distress. Her concern. Her panic. Her poorly-executed expression of calmness. Her panic attack...

My own panic calmed, grounded to look directly at the man. I don't know who he was or what he wanted. But I won't let him get to Hera.

"Peculiar name," I lied. I find it quite cute and suiting. "Not every day you hear about someone whose name matches the woman in that cartoon film. You know, the one with the pink skin and orange hair? Heck, she could be related to Persephone." I chuckled at my joke. The skin colors on the cartoon goddesses could almost match, I think. I leaned upon my doorframe, "But sorry, I don't seem to know anyone named Hera, but I'll let you know when the pink goddess comes around here."

He then chuckled. Another thunder joined, also afar. My eyebrows narrowed at the odd timing before shoving the thought aside. "You speak of a lie and a truth. And, oh, such poor representation on that child's play."

My arms crossed and an eyebrow rose.

What the hell was he talking about?

"Listen." His position stayed the same as he continued, not even popping a hip for comfort. "I am aware that you know exactly who I am talking about."

I stayed silent. Stoic.

"I assure you, no problems will arise. But I will say that her presence is most important on the matter at hand."

Damn my mind for bringing in curiosity, letting it hop around like a kangaroo while its pouch carelessly dropped thought after thought. Kindly enough, there was only a few I took main focus on -- what did he mean by "important"? What matter? Why was it necessary for her to be a part of it? And again, how does he know her?

So many questions. Hardly any given answers.

Might as well return the favor.

"Okay, let's say I do know this Hera. What's in it for you, a complete stranger to me that could do nothing but harm like, say kidnapping or forced marriages or even send her off into an area where slavery's a thing?"

What should sound condescending was an odd joke to this guy. He actually bellowed, a hand holding his stomach with his head thrown back. At the same time, thunder came a third time. Closer and echoing his laughter, at precise timing.

I straightened up. Instincts were telling me to shut the door and not to speak to this man anymore.

This was getting not just weird, but freaky too. It feels like something from a horror movie, anticipating the invisible audience from my view on the incoming danger that will come right before me.

Eventually, there was no sudden attack in confirming my words. Instead, he simply calmed down and wiped a tear that hung from his eye. "You humans come up with the most ridiculous of things, and make them into a reality. I haven't laugh in so long that it was nice to have another go at it."

He took an inhale then exhale, satisfaction voicing. Then he looked at me, with a smirk on his face.

I blinked. My hand was urging to reach for something behind when there was nothing but the door.

"On account of her brother."

My hand stopped. My eyebrows touched my hairline.

He kept talking. His smirk stayed.

"And her husband."

Silence from him was on purpose. He was making me sink into the bottomless pit of his words, slowly consuming a fill in my lungs to suffocate me.

I just couldn't believe it.

She was married. Hera, my Hera, my girlfriend was married... To a man!

I don't think she ever told me she was bi before!

Wait. Her brother.

She had a...

Luckily unharmed by the filling, my mind got me back to the smirking man. I hate that smirk immediately now. He must know of our relationship if he was going to relish in my distress while I notice his auburn hair, and his tanned skin, and his green eyes...

I know those eyes. I see them everyday, the first in the morning and the last to bed for these past three days.

It didn't even occur to me on the similiarities.

They were both equally gorgeous. Coming from the same line.

My hand finally gripped something: the other side of the doorframe, keeping me at balance as I stared at a second Hera, but male.

"You're... You're her brother."

He gave a nod, reminding me of a bow a royal man would do. As though his presence was of royalty, and I was the lucky girl to have met him before anyone else would notice. "How unfortunate that she was not affectionate to express her sisterly love about me, but better late than never, right?"

I almost didn't catch on to his words, my hearing going mute as my voice. Hera had family she never mentioned about. She had a brother she never told me about. She has a husband that she never, ever brought up about.

It's one thing to cut ties with family, considering how both resourceful and rude this guy of a brother is. But to hide the detail of being a married woman...? Is she even still married, or is divorced but the husband refuses to accept that? I don't know whether to be ashamed and hurt by this reveal, or be protective and defensive to make sure that she would never go back to him again.

My head was aching. I resisted to touch my forehead, feeling the pulsing as it would hit at my cupping palm.

She either abandoned the relationship like it was nothing. Or left without a second thought to be free.

Both ideas, and only one will confirm the truth. But will he be telling me the truth though?

I can sense the growing pounds at the side of my head. Knock, knock, knock on frustrating thoughts worse to deal with than college work.

"Alright!" I blurted out, mostly to myself. I clear my thought and repeated carefully. "Alright... I..."

I can't reveal her. Not until I learn the truth from her. She can't hide it now; I'm in way too deep involved in this now.

"I know Hera."

He perked.

"But she's not here. And I refuse to let her brother see her when her husband is the main issue between them."

A quick glance of his disappointment through his eyes was nothing in comparison to the burn at my heart and the sourness at my tongue. Thinking of the word 'husband' was better than saying, but it was equally unsettling. It was worse when speaking it, almost feeling natural about my girlfriend's husband mention.

"Ah. So she didn't inform you. Interesting..."

Attention went back to the man. He no longer was of a soldier and more of a man intrigued on information that can be used for blackmail. Such a thought brought an unsettling in my stomach, making me almost want to puke if I didn't ate breakfast hours ago. The way he turned away, his hand grasping his chin while a finger tapped at his lips, didn't feel right. The noticing of quick shakes at his shoulders that would be unseen if I didn't spotted made me either want to hit or shout at him to get out. Before I could do either one, he continued.

"Tell me, dearest child." My eyes glowered. I'm not that young. If anything this guy's only a few years older. Yet he continued without noticing the annoyance. "Just to be sure: you didn't know I was her brother."

"No."

"Right. And you don't know of her husband."

My teeth gritted behind closed lips. He looked back at me, as if already knowing that, too, and was enjoying it. "No," I forced myself.

"And you say the only Hera you knew earlier as a lie and a truth was the one from that child's cartoon? Was that right?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yes. What's your point?"

He then straightened. And his head leaned forward.

Instincts were allowed to lean my head back. Any closer and he was going to kiss my door. But luckily he stopped. The green in his eyes were brightened by his inner flame. But this time, of mischief.

"Then answer this, child. Who is Hera married to?"

I opened my mouth.

Not a word was out.

My annoyance slowly morphed into shock. Confusion. Understanding. Shock with fear.

It just occurred to me that there was more thunder now. Booming with a closeness at every release. Like they were of feet, walking or running. Straight to a destination. Getting closer to their reach.

He stepped back, but I was frozen in place.

My heart was trying to join the thunder. Or was mimicking the rapidity of a percussion's performance but in following one rhythm. My throat was clenching. My breathing was hard to get out.

"Simple-minded you are," he mocked. His tongue licked underneath his upper lip before grinning. It reminded me of a small version to the Cheshire Cat's. Only the feline's was more welcoming and assuring of safety and sanity.

"It's not everyday a child's show displays such love with a beautiful son, despite the following circumstances in the end. But then again..."

His arms were brought out from his sides.

A thunder boomed low, just a feet or two from him.

"You mortals never saw an actual god's true looks, haven't you?"

Lightning flashes across the sky like a freed arrow from Artemis or Athena. Or even going through his head without killing him, seeing how his green pools flashed the existence of polished gold. Remaining as the last thunder boomed loud as its own powerful halo.

The closeness and strength of the release shook the ground, shook my balance in reinstating reality before myself. My mind was still rebooting and when doing so, very little words were brought. Simple, yet true.

Zeus.

God.

Goddess.

Hera...

Gods.

Real.

My mouth somehow opened. A statement so numbly released it can be whispered.

"...Oh, God..."

Zeus grinned mischievously.

"Yes?" He teased.

My stomach dropped. My heart dropped. My thoughts followed. And eventually so did my body, backwards with eyes rolling up inside my head. Before hitting the ground, darkness became my new bed of security.

To be continued…

“I’m sorry I’m dating, who?!” You say in shock. You just found out your girlfriend was the greek goddess Hera, how? By her ex husband Zeus arriving at your door and threatening you to give her back. This is going to be a long day…

[vera9811]

Well I just tested a few people.

Posted to my Instagram story some personal things for 1 month

And posted memes and bullshits for 1 month continously

Here is the results

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

It's funny how many people are your fake friends. They only just watching your personal stuff and didn't give a shit about "your" funny side.

I tried the NGL stuff too where you can ask anonymously. I got a few and boosted it a little bit by myself.

It was the same. They were reading the first few but after that the numbers slowly decreased.

One of my "friends" was very suspicious to me. I don't know why, I just didn't feel good about her. And my intuitions was right.

It turned out that she submitted the information about me to others.

Our mutual friend only watched my story when she watched it and if it was personal. If it was a meme or something else, she didn't cared about it or just told her it's bullshit again, I think.

They even posted a pic about a bday party, three of them plus one other person. I was angry at the moment when I saw it. I mean yeah it's your bday, you invite whoever you want, but replacing me...really?

But anyway, I posted on that day four pics after I saw this, just in case as a little revenge, so I can show them that I had fun on that day too with others, with my real friends. And as it is, everyone saw it from that group. So basically they talked about me behind my back, again.

But there was even more of this shit.

Long story short, one of them or somebody else from the same elementary school class they send to me literally an university degree geek. And I mean by that, his D only can get hard when he's hearing about someone else from our old class. So he can boost his ego about "how is he going better in life"... Because he is having a chemistry degree and how smart is he...

In that few months when I talked to him, it got even worse, everyone popped up everywhere.

When I stopped talking to him, I only saw these old classmates in my FB friend requests. Then I blocked them. And blocked this geek guy from Instagram, but it was just one profile from the two, he tried to follow me again, but after a few weeks I didn't accepted it and blocked that too.

After that, this guy continously walks into my girlfriends workplace and looking at her suspiciously to this days.

Few days ago, I met the bday girl in a shop it was random, we talked a little bit. But I saw it on her face that she is anxious, didn't want to talk to me, she felt uncomfortable, she rotated her head and eyes to search for an exit etc.

Basically I don't know anymore who I can trust.

Anyways, I'm still gonna post memes, jokes, personal stuff.

If anyone realized themselves, make a good move and unfollow me

or

grow a D and send a pm about why are you all hating me, why are you all putting the fake mask on or why are you all acting like a clown.

[1kook]

new parent syndrome

— kim namjoon x (f) reader

SUMMARY You love Namjoon, honest. But you love your daughter Hyejoo even more— it’s not a controversial sentiment when you know he’s the same way! —and going back to a regular adult life sans kids absolutely sucks. (Or so you thought.) WARNINGS dilf!joon, dreamy husband joon, loving parents au, jimin is also a dad, bathtub sexy times, exhibitionism 😳 kinda sorta, tiny praise kink, joon calls her wifey TT, fingering, cunninglingus, doggy style, it’s kinda cheesy n romantic /.\, unprotected sex, …. impreg kink RATINGS m (18+) WC 9.5k 

NOTES writing parent fics is harder than i thought :/ i had this idea last week n was like yes, lets write this fic that absolutely no one asked for... except me! <3 so here we are, fantasizing about dreamy dad joon.... as always i have to thank rumu ( @kigurumu​ ) who is kind enough to edit these n b like that don't make no sense -_- anyway lemme know what u think !! enjoy !!

No matter how hard you try, the letter f refuses to fit itself into Hyejoo’s phonemic understanding. She’s a growing toddler so it’s only normal that there are sounds she still can’t pronounce, words she doesn’t quite get. But her inability to say food or family or friends, which are undoubtedly the three most important things in her three year-old world right now, is definitely a setback you didn’t see coming. 

Your worrywart husband has taken matters into his own hands, using the power of Google and about twelve parenting books to create an extensive, one-hour-a-day, mini lesson to try and increase her pronunciation skills. Of course, Hyejoo already attends daycare in the mornings while you and Namjoon are off at work, and gets sufficient learning done there. So she can’t exactly sit through Joon’s lectures, no matter how pretty he tries to decorate her flashcards. She’s still tiny— she’s still your baby, and you want her to enjoy the last of her daycare years before you’re forced to submit her to the worst twelve years of her life (also known as compulsory education). 

But as you’ve mentioned before, Namjoon doesn’t quite feel the same way. 

“She can’t sound out the letter,” he mopes in bed that night. He’s laying down beside you, face smushed against your thigh. The lamp on your side of the bed is the only thing on, casting a faint golden hue on his cheeks.

This conversation has occurred a variety of times these past few weeks, and you’ve just about ran out of every comforting reassurance possible. You settle on stroking a hand through his hair. There are emails to respond to and clients to check in with, but there’s also a huffy husband in bed beside you who quite pitifully crawls up into your arms. 

It’s with his face between your boobs that he speaks again. “What if she’s getting made fun of at school? Or her teachers think she’s dumb?” You roll your eyes. “My baby is not dumb, __,” he says, as if you don’t know. “Her IQ came back above average when I took her to the development specialist that one time, remember?” You have half the mind to tell him an IQ test on a three year old isn’t exactly valid, but there’s already enough stacked on his plate. Finding out he wasted a hundred bucks for an invalid test would just be the cherry on top of all his worries. 

Water clings to the very tips of his hair, remnants of his bath with Hyejoo. Namjoon is getting older now, nothing like the dashing grad student you had met what feels like a lifetime ago. There’s bags under his eyes, bags that surpass any all-nighter-pulling college student’s, induced by none other than the sheer power of becoming a parent. And still, he retains his beauty, looks like a doll with his skin so dewy from his skincare routine, lips puffy and red and kissable. 

He looks up, and you take the opportunity to place a kiss on his lips, his familiar scent making you melt into his arms. When he pulls away, there’s still a subtle furrow between his brows. 

“Hyejoo is fine,” you reassure him, carding his brown hair out of his face. He leans into the touch, eyes falling shut. “Our girl is the smartest three year-old out there,” you huff, feeling the slightest bit annoyed that he could even insinuate otherwise. “And if she was having problems at school, you know I would be the first one in there, fighting all the other moms.” 

Namjoon relents, face falling back into its haven between your tits. “Okay,” he mumbles, muffled from the way his plush lips drag against the soft skin over your sternum. 

The subject of Namjoon’s worries is in the other room sound asleep, not the least bit concerned with measly letters and sounds. It’s really only Namjoon who is, his stack of letter flashcards glaring at you from on top of the dresser. “Your mother hen is showing,” you tease as he slips beneath the covers, leaning over you to flick off your lamp. Just like everything else in your house, his t-shirt smells like him. It’s a natural, woodsy scent that floods your nostrils and makes your toes curl when he comes so close. 

Namjoon snorts as he settles beside you, beefy arm pillowing your head as he pulls you close. “I’m not a mother hen,” he says, hand on your waist, the tantalizing expanse of his neck before your eyes. “I’m the rooster— the cock,” he snickers, and you reward his terrible attempt at a joke with a pinch to his side that has him retreating to the other end of the bed. 

Hyejoo’s best friend in the entire world— or, as she says, her best pren in the entire world —is none other than Park Yerin from daycare. As the universe would have it, Park Yerin is also the one and only daughter of your college philosophy seat neighbor, Park Jimin. 

Crossing paths with him later down the road was not something you could ever anticipate, especially when you and Jimin were never that close in college to begin with. It was the only class you had with him in all four years, one where you had quietly acknowledged his charisma and occasionally shared homework answers, before never speaking to him again. You could have greeted him on campus, as you often crossed paths. But Park Jimin was a walking friendship magnet who seemed to bring with him a parade of followers everywhere he went, and approaching him required three layers of strategic planning if you wanted to catch him alone. 

So bumping into him at the entrance of Hyejoo’s daycare six years later comes as a bit of a shock. You had never pegged him as the type to settle down so quickly— you don’t mean to label him, but there were certain college stereotypes that he fit like a glove —but there he was, carrying the tiny love of his life who’s currently dressed in a bright pink Minnie Mouse dress. 

Unsurprisingly, just like her father, Park Yerin has the same enthralling personality that makes everyone in the three to four year-old daycare class want to be her friend, and your sweet little Hyejoo is not exempt. 

Long story short, out of all the kids at Sunny Side Daycare, Yerin is Hyejoo’s favorite, and Hyejoo is Yerin’s favorite. 

So now it’s been a little over a year since the two girls have established their friendship, which means it’s been a little over a year of acquainting yourself with Jimin again. He’s a house husband, something you never expected, and he loves his daughter like no other. Some afternoons after daycare are spent with Jimin and Yerin at the nearest coffee shop, watching the girls haphazardly scribble over every piece of paper they can get their hands on while the two of you catch up. 

Overall, you’re happy Hyejoo can have a friend like Yerin, and secretly, you're also happy you can finally befriend a fellow parent as nice and put together as Jimin. On top of that, Namjoon’s liked him on the few occasions he’s met him; the two have even gone out for drinks. 

However, befriending Jimin and Yerin comes at a cost, and that cost is seeing your little girl grow up.  

It’s your turn to mope. 

“Yerin asked her to sleepover,” you groan, sadly patting in your skincare routine the next night. Namjoon is somewhere behind you, his naked back glaring at you through the reflection of your vanity mirror. He’s so broad and big, sleep shorts clinging to his waist as he lotions up his body post-shower. There’s a thin gold chain around his neck that glints everytime he moves around, biceps flexing and bulging in plain view until he finally slips his shirt on. There was a time in your life where his back could not go more than two days unscathed, your rabid (read: horny) claw marks painting rosy trails down his spine. These days, you can barely remember the last time he’s held your hand. 

“Who?” he asks once he’s settled beneath the covers with whatever book he’s reading now and his thick-rimmed reading glasses. 

“Who else,” you say, tugging your night robe closer to your chest as if it’ll prevent your heart from breaking anymore than it already was. “Hyejoo’s first sleepover,” you sigh. 

You take it harder than you imagined. In the back of your mind, you’ve always known your little girl was growing up— hello, you were literally watching her grow more and more inches every single day —but you had convinced yourself she would stay your baby for a little while longer. As much as you wanted her to see and learn about the world, you selfishly wanted to keep her home too. She was your baby, your only one at that.

At least Namjoon feels the same way. “Absolutely not,” he squawks, abruptly slamming his book shut. He’s usually really meticulous about lining up his fancy bookmark right on the line he left off on, so his sudden carelessness tells you all you need to know about how he feels. 

You sit down beside him, hand over his. “It’s Yerin’s birthday,” you inform him in what you hope is a comforting tone; unbeknownst to him, you’re trying to reassure yourself as well. “And Jimin said he and his wife are gonna be there the whole night.” You trust Jimin, you really do. If there’s anyone who’s more in love with their kid than you and Namjoon, it’s Jimin. He would never let anything happen to his Yerin, and by extension, he would never let anything happen to your Hyejoo. He’s a good dad. 

Namjoon rubs at his eyes. In the span of two minutes, he’s aged about five years. “No,” he sighs softly, squeezing your hand tightly. “Once she starts going to sleepovers she’ll start wearing makeup and getting into relationships and having her heart broken—“ 

A kiss is enough to silence him when he gets like this, his warm breath fanning across your bottom lip when you pull away. “She just wants to wear tutus and sing Baby Shark right now,” you murmur, hand creeping up over his chest. His heart is beating fast as hell beneath his t-shirt, feels like it’ll burst straight out of his chest if you don’t calm him down. 

He’s the bigger worrier out of the two of you, has a classic case of paranoid parent syndrome. 

It’s no secret that Namjoon has a big brain; he’s an educated man with a respectable job. For every problem he encounters, he can procure a variety of solutions with different approaches. He’s always prepared and part of you thinks he’s a huge reason you managed to survive those first few weeks as a mom. Unlike you, who had attended a whopping two mommy classes in preparation for your upcoming child, Namjoon had studied up on parenting. A lot. He had read books and reviewed scientific studies, had learned about development on the chemistry level and the social level, did all he could until he was confident in his own dad abilities. 

But, for every solution Namjoon can find, there are always twenty-eight other factors to worry about. 

“What if she has an allergic reaction and Jimin doesn’t know what to do,” he pales, death grip on your hand. His matching wedding band digs into your skin and you have to wrestle his hand away before he accidentally breaks your finger. He nearly broke your neck once when you were in college, had almost sent you to the ER mid-thrust because he had underestimated his own strength while trying to choke you.

“Hyejoo doesn’t have any allergies,” you remind him, giving up on your awkward half-seated position as you clamber over him. His thighs are full beneath you, tense up as you move over him and he manhandles you into his chest. 

He’s not done. “What if she asks Jimin for a fizzy drink and he can’t understand her?” His eyes are owlish beneath his glasses, covered in what you can only describe as a visible sheen of absolute terror. “What if he thinks she’s saying ‘pissy’ not ‘fizzy,’ __— what then?” It’s amazing, really, how a man who graduated cum laude can hypothesize this many disasters pertaining to a four year-old’s sleepover. 

In the other room, Hyejoo calls for you, so you gladly take the opportunity to remove yourself from Namjoon and his spiraling thoughts. “Look,” you say, tightening the sash of your robe as you get back up. “I’m gonna go tell her that she can go to Yerin’s sleepover tomorrow,” you tell him, giving him exactly three seconds to groan dramatically, before continuing, “and you figure out how to turn that big brain off by the time I come back.” 

Luckily, the cause of Hyejoo’s sudden wake up is a tiny bug bite she got from playing outside that just won’t stop itching. “Mommy, it hurts,” she whines, digging her nails into the tiny red mark by her knee. 

“Uh huh, lemme see,” you order, turning on her bedside lamp to illuminate the space. Her room is the prettiest shade of yellow, fitting for a ball of sunshine such as herself. “Were you playing by the flowerbeds?” You ask, running a finger over the mark a little too weird looking to simply be another mosquito bite. 

She knows she’s not supposed to play near the flowers— the bugs like her a little too much. It’s with a hesitant little nod that she confesses to it. You give her a pointed look. “You’re not supposed to play too close to the flowers,” you remind her, a tiny scolding for now. 

With a sniffle she responds, “not by the plowers.” 

A little bit of anti-itch cream has her settling, and by the time you return to your bedroom, Namjoon is out cold. 

“How old is Yerin turning?” Namjoon asks her at the door, heartbreak clearly painting his features as you help Hyejoo into her shoes. 

“Pour,” she beams, her tiny hand held up to show four stubby fingers. She has Namjoon’s pretty smile, an honest look in her eyes that makes you want to put her in your pocket and never let her go. Alas, Yerin’s sleepover party starts at five and Hyejoo has been trying to leave since noon. 

“Pour,” Namjoon repeats, shooting you a pointed look as if to say see. He had fought the decision up until the end, had even tried to tactically convince your daughter to stay home by getting a head start on preparing her favorite food. And well. She said no. So now the two of you are stuck having dinosaur chicken nuggets for dinner without her. 

She’s got her little travel bag on now, tiny feet stuffed into her ladybug rain boots because it had rained last night and she’s awfully addicted to jumping in muddy puddles. She’s absolutely adorable, your little girl, and you think Namjoon might’ve let out a tiny sob earlier. (Or maybe it was you.)

Namjoon joins you at the front door. “Be good,” he warns her. His eyes are suspiciously wet, but you don’t say anything because yours are too. You’re both crouched in front of her, her big eyes glancing back and forth between the two of you without a care in the world. Mixing your self-assured personality with Namjoon’s (mostly) composed attitude was quite possibly the worst genetic crossover to ever happen; Hyejoo doesn’t even seem remotely bothered by the fact she’s spending her first night away from home. Meanwhile, you and Namjoon are on the verge of a joint breakdown. 

Anyway, Namjoon gives in first. “Love you forever, princess,” he tells her, their ritual expression, and kisses her forehead. 

She accepts it and then, in an unexpected turn of events, surges forward to hug him around the neck. “Love you pporever, daddy,” she repeats, and your heart feels so painfully full at the sight, like you just unlocked a new life achievement from seeing your daughter and her father be so cute together. You don’t get to coo at them for long, because then she’s giving you a warm hug as well, the same phrase muttered in your ear. 

It’s the hardest thing about parenting. 

Seeing your kid slowly broaden their horizons, meeting new people and learning new things. Leaving home. (Granted, she’ll be back by tomorrow afternoon but even that feels like an eternity away to the dramatic parents you and Namjoon have become.) The second goodbye on Jimin’s doorstep isn’t any easier, especially when Hyejoo tugs on your arm and asks you to “say night to daddy please” for her, and your heart breaks just a little more. Jimin flashes you an understanding smile but all you want to do is punch him in the nose for ever telling Yerin what a sleepover is. 

You get home and Namjoon is in a calmer state by now, some old sitcom he hates playing on the TV. Usually, this time of day is reserved for his daily phonemic lessons with Hyejoo, drilling the f sound into her tiny brain, so you guess this is his preferred method of coping in its place: torturing himself with some boring television show. 

“Hey,” he says, and you crawl into his lap with a sad sniffle. “Shh,” he soothes, hand on the back of your head as he guides you into his chest. You’re actually crying now, which is super embarrassing in itself considering you scolded Namjoon for this exact behavior last night. He doesn’t mention it as he pats your back, stupid sitcom paused in favor of soothing you with the deep vibrations of his voice. “Hye’s gonna be back tomorrow, baby.”

“I want her back now,” you huff, vaguely aware of how childish and silly you sound. The tables have turned, and you find yourself wishing you had the same emotional fortitude as Namjoon now. All those parenting books have clearly amounted for something. Somehow, you will the feeling back into your body and pull away from his chest. You must look a mess because he doesn’t even try to hide the amusement on his face. “This is the worst day of my life.” 

Namjoon laughs, deep and hearty, with his eyes squeezing shut from the force. “Come on, wifey, those chicken nuggets aren’t gonna eat themselves.”

It’s quite possibly the most boring evening you’ve had in years. 

(The internet calls it new parent syndrome, where you’re so undeniably in love with your first child and the parenting experience that the rest of the world is put on pause.)

You love Namjoon, honest. But you love your daughter Hyejoo even more— it’s not a controversial sentiment when you know he’s the same way! —and going back to a regular adult life sans kids absolutely sucks. (Or so you thought.)

Kids are prone to asking weirdly philosophical questions, a fact that had greatly delighted you when Hyejoo first started speaking. Who am I? What’s money? Why not? It could get annoying sometimes, trying to answer all of Hyejoo’s curiosities. But as you begin on your second batch of dinosaur chicken nuggets, all you can think about is how Jimin gets to answer them tonight. 

Anyway, seven rolls around and you and Namjoon are bored. You can only watch so many episodes of Seinfield before you get tired of feigning interest, so you retire from the living room for the night. “I’m gonna take a bath,” you tell him, but he’s as brain dead as you by now. 

A second later, “lemme join.” 

It’s been a while since the two of you have squeezed into the bathtub together, usually assigning each other days to individually join Hyejoo. So it’s really not either of your faults when you realize a second too late how small the space is. One on each end, feet bumping into each other with every movement, it’s like trying to squeeze two feet into one shoe. You try to readjust yourself, but the bath flooring is slippery and you nearly take away Namjoon’s procreative abilities with a mighty kick. 

To make a long story short, you end up pressed against his chest, Namjoon’s thick thighs framing you as you relax into the steaming water. Instinctively, he reaches for Hyejoo’s bottle of baby shampoo that sits on the tub’s ledge and only catches himself just as the first droplet is meeting his palm. “Oh, fuck,” he sighs, quickly closing the lid before he can waste any more precious product. “Shit, I’m so sad.”

You snort, sinking farther back into his chest. He’s warm and soft in all the right ways, the hot water making him slippery. “What did we even do before Hyejoo?” you ask, reaching into the deepest crevices of your mind for answers. Namjoon’s hand comes around, fingers sprawled out over your knee, the one you have propped up and breaking the water’s surface 

He makes a rather vague sound, something like I don’t know, as he lolls forward, forehead on your shoulder. “Go on dates,” he responds eventually. “Fuck like crazy.” 

You roll your eyes. “Besides that,” you chide, pinching the back of his palm. “Don’t we have any hobbies? Any interests?” He doesn’t answer, which is all the answer you need. Why didn’t you get into puzzle solving back when it was a trend? “Is this what our life has become? Crying in a bathtub at seven pm because our emotional support child isn’t here?”

“Our only child,” he corrects. Namjoon tries to placate your looming existential crisis with a kiss to your shoulder, lips against wet skin, that he trails up to your neck. “And what’s wrong with going on dates and fucking?” he murmurs, hands around your stomach. “That’s how we got here,” he teases, and you’re not sure if it’s the warm water or the way his voice is like melted chocolate dripping down your body, but you become all too aware of his presence at that moment. Particularly, of the plush lips mindlessly kissing your shoulder, the wet smack of their motions. 

Another kiss, this time right below your ear. It has your head rolling to the side, exposing more skin for him to kiss up on. There’s still that overwhelming cloud of worry in the back of your mind, but it’s gradually nudged away by Namjoon’s warm hands on your skin. Sensing your weakening resolve, Namjoon strikes again. A hand slips down over your stomach, brushes over your belly button and finds itself between your thighs. “You used to love date nights, baby,” he says, the pad of his pointer finger grazing your clit. 

It’s been so long since you and Namjoon have been alone like this, months since you’ve been able to touch him beyond a simple make out session, a halfhearted grope beneath the sheets. Your daughter, as much as you loved her, made intimacy impossible for the two of you. She was always around, always looking for one or the both of you, so there was never time to even think about getting frisky. 

Only now, with his finger circling your clit, do you realize the blessing in disguise that was your daughter’s first slumber party away from home. 

His finger nudges your clit, flicks it teasingly. “Why don’t you let me take care of you, hm?” he hums, the hand that had been soothingly stroking the inside of your thigh coming up to rub at your breasts. 

“Yes, please,” you whine. Resting your head on his shoulder leaves Namjoon with a clear view down your front, lips kissing and sucking along your neck. His huge hand palms your breast, massaging the sensitive skin. You hadn’t realized how sore you’d been until now, his nimble fingers pressing deliciously into the skin. If your nipples weren’t already hard before, they certainly were now. 

He traps one pearled nipple between two fingers, the sudden pinch making you hiss. “Easy, now,” he chuckles, his low tenor paired with his wandering hands making your eyes roll back. 

Namjoon liked to use a higher tone around the house. He read somewhere that children prefer lighter, sweeter tones, so the last few years have been spent listening to him lighten the tone of his voice for the sake of your daughter. The deeper, growlier voice that had first made you fall in love with him became a rarity in your household, reserved for quiet nights in the living room or long drives where Hyejoo was asleep in the backseat. Only then does he unleash the gravelly qualities of his voice. 

Then, and apparently, now. 

His doll-like lips press against your jaw, suck lightly enough to make your body tingle. “Do you remember how it was the first time?” he says suddenly, his hot breath against your neck. 

Namjoon’s got your clit trapped between two wandering fingers, has your pussy twitching with the vibrations of his voice alone. And for some reason, he’s trying to reminisce about your first time sleeping together. 

“N- Not really,” you confess, subtly reaching down. You cover his palm with yours, hoping your touch will encourage him to carry on with his actions. It doesn’t. It just leaves both your hands hovering over your pussy, your thighs instinctively closing in on them to keep him there. Namjoon responds to that, releasing the breast he had been gently massaging in order to pry your legs apart. He does it so easily, despite the way your legs feel tight as hell, and the fact makes you whimper. 

Once he’s got his hands back between your thighs— this time, he uses one hand to carefully part your quivering lips, the other one gingerly pressing down against your clit to draw the most heavenly sensations out of you —Namjoon feels the need to dive into a recap of your first fuck. “You were so cute,” he laughs, and you don’t know if you should take offense. Well, considering you're married and have a kid now, it’s probably too late to say anything anyway. His hand suddenly switches gears, three fingers joining together to begin caressing them over your throbbing clit. “Kept talking to me so politely, even when you were creaming my cock.”

You scoff, but it gets cancelled out by the moan he draws out of you. “D- Didn’t know you that well,” you remind him, your thighs twitching. You desperately want to buck forward into his giving hands, want to feel the true power of those long, pretty fingers on your cunt. 

Behind you, Namjoon’s cock grows thick, his breathing a slow and steady pace by your ear. You can already imagine how heavy he is, the vein that runs along the underside and throbs with each new bit of stimulus he receives. Normally you would reach back and try to offer him the same helping hand he gives you, but your thighs feel wobbly already. Your libido has been dormant for so long that even just the barest flick of his thumb has you dissolving into his arms like this is your first time. 

It’s as if Namjoon’s sensing your inner battle, a muffled laugh against the side of your neck. “This is about you,” he reminds you. As much as you want to protest, a sudden hard rub against your quivering lips has you gasping for breath. “Give me a kiss,” he commands softly, nudging his nose against the side of your face. It takes a second for you to ground yourself, draw yourself away from your building pleasure, to turn toward his waiting lips. 

Namjoon kisses you slowly, like he’s taking his time with you. For the first time in a long time, he truly can. He doesn’t have to worry about a certain someone waking up in the middle of the night or walking in or anything along those lines, lips molding against yours. Plush as always, the faint taste of dinosaur chicken nuggets clinging to his lips. It makes you laugh a little, drawing away with an airy giggle. Namjoon smiles at your reaction, murmuring a soft, “what is it?”

You shake your head, eyes fluttering shut as he continues his circular motions against your clit. “Nothing,” you pant, finally getting in your first thrust against his fingers. “I just really need you,” you say instead, pushing his hand harder down against you. 

You’re feeling a little antsy, having been deprived of this sensation for so long. Namjoon knows this, which is why he very purposely slows down. “There’s no rush,” he smirks, placing a kiss against your chin. “How do you want it, baby?”

The inside of your brain is a scrambled mess, filled with fantasies and ideas that have been plaguing you for months. There’s so much you want to do, want to try, but it’s like your brain completely blanks out when he asks. It’s just as you’re beginning to formulate a thought that you’re interrupted by the sound of your ringtone in the other room. Your husband’s arms tighten around you. “Don’t go,” he says quietly, the tip of his nose running along your neck. It’s so tempting to stay here, to let yourself go in his arms and chase the pleasure you’ve been craving for so long. 

But the endless possibilities of who exactly could be calling wins over. Was it work? Was it your parents? Jimin?

It is with a heavy sigh that you reach for Namjoon’s hand, slowly pushing him away from your cunt. “I’m sorry, honey,” you frown, standing up out of the tub. Your legs really do feel like jelly, and you nearly slip and crack your skull on the porcelain edge. Luckily, Namjoon is there to steady you with two secure hands on your waist. “I’ll make it quick,” you reassure him, dropping a kiss on his pouty lips as you fasten a towel around your body. 

The phone is just starting up its final ring when you reach it. It’s Jimin, and you’re torn between being thankful that you’re getting word on Hyejoo and full blown panic from the fact Jimin is calling you while Hyejoo is in his care. The unease has you accepting the call without a second more to waste. “Hello?” you say, hand tightening on the front of your towel. Stray water droplets trace ticklish trails down the backs of your thighs.

“__?” comes Jimin’s sweet voice. It’s normally soothing, but right now it has every hair on your body standing on end. Before you can even respond, Jimin is jumping headfirst into a whirlwind of a conversation. “Sorry for calling so late, but I just wanted to check in on you, babe. I know you were really panicked about Hye’s first night away from home, but don’t worry! Me and the missus are doing everything we can to make sure she’s fine.”

His confidence reassures you, lessens the weight that had been sitting on your chest all afternoon. But at the same time, you find yourself wanting to throttle him. 

Your gorgeous, sexy hunk of a husband is sitting in the other room, cock at full mast and ready to pleasure you to the moon and back, and here you are listening to Jimin brag about how good of a caretaker he is. You were definitely going to make Jimin pay for this. 

Deep breaths, you tell yourself, toying with a stray thread on your towel. “Really,” you drawl, and you can practically see Jimin’s ego swell over the line. 

“Yup,” Jimin agrees, and by the sounds of it, doesn’t seem like he’s hoping to end this call anytime soon. You want to shoulder part of the blame; you had been extra sad and mopey when you dropped your daughter off. On top of being a good dad, Jimin was also a good friend. It was only naturally he wanted to reassure you when he could. 

Still, the memory of Namjoon’s wet chest was calling out to you. 

“The girls are playing princess in the living room with the missus right now,” Jimin chats on. “New dresses and everything— the Yerin Birthday Special —and they asked me to be their handsome prince!” You sincerely cannot wait for the day you get to introduce Jimin to your right fist. 

“That’s great,” you offer, not that he’s really listening. He’s too busy talking about Yerin (and making sure to include Hyejoo in for your sake) and how amazing it is to watch your kids grow up before your very eyes. And while you agree with the sentiment, you really wish he had called you and told you this earlier, when you were at the peak of your motherly meltdown. Not now with Namjoon waiting for you in the bathtub. Was the water even warm anymore? 

The mind blowing orgasm practically slips from your fingertips the longer Jimin talks. “Anyway! Enough about them. I’m thinking of trying out that blueberry bread recipe that aired on TV last night. You know, the one they had that actress make.”

You’ve just about resigned yourself to listening to Jimin talk about his love for pastries for the next thirty minutes when something brushes up behind you. “What the fu—“

He’s so tall and broad, practically covers your entire frame when he stands so close. And his smile is so pretty when he aims it your way. “Sh,” Namjoon murmurs, gesturing towards your phone.  

“__?” Jimin calls. “Everything alright?” 

Namjoon nods eagerly, the hands on your waist properly positioning you in front of him. It’s with a shudder running down your spine that you respond. “I’m fine,” you tell Jimin, letting go of the front of your towel when Namjoon abruptly pushes you over. The white comforter infused with both of your scents comes all too close, your elbow barely managing to reach out in time to catch you.  

Wide eyed, you turn to throw Namjoon a scandalized look over your shoulder. He meets you with a close-mouthed smile, the dimples in his cheeks making themselves known. His chest is drier now, the smooth planes covered in a thin dewy glow and a spattering of droplets he missed. There’s a towel around his waist that’s barely doing its job, especially when you catch sight of the erection tenting beneath it. 

“As I was saying,” Jimin rambles on. Namjoon nods towards the device, refusing to move again until you finally turn back around to finish your conversation with Jimin. “That actress fucked it up so bad. They really give anyone with a pretty face screen time these days, huh? At least I know how to properly preheat an oven.”

You nod. “You do make the best cookies in town,” you respond, a ball of anticipation building in your throat from the mere fact Namjoon is standing behind you. 

It’s completely warranted once you feel two cold fingers trail up the back of your thigh, your towel gradually pushed up to drape around your waist. The air in your room is a little chilly, and the goosebumps that raise on your skin are partly due to that, as well as the ghostlike touch of Namjoon’s fingers. “Pretty,” he murmurs, so deep and gravelly it has you shuddering.  

Two fingers dance along your skin, and you subconsciously jolt away when they meet the tender skin around your pussy. By your ear, Jimin says, “if I completely fuck it up, we’ll just pretend this conversation never happened. Deal?”

Using your own body against you, Namjoon lets one finger dip just the smallest bit into your quivering hole. You clench up, thighs trembling when he eventually pulls it back out and traces your own wetness over your folds. “Perfect,” you bite out, clutching at the sheets beneath you as Namjoon reaches for your forgotten clit. It’s still so sensitive from your little fun in the bath, and it takes every ounce of strength in you to hold back the whiny gasp in your throat. 

Behind you, Namjoon suddenly presses in close. One hand on your hip, he gently encourages you onto the bed. Your knees sink into the mattress, one less strain on your legs. “Good girl,” he praises quietly, rewarding your behavior with a finger sinking into your cunt. 

“Joo—“ you almost slip, burying your face into the sheets just in time. 

A devastatingly slow pace, his finger just barely moving in and out of you. The bulk of your pleasure is coming from that bundle of nerves towards your front, but the teasing gesture isn’t appreciated anyway. When he leans over you, breath against your neck, you feel the length of his cock against your thigh. “He’s asking you a question,” Namjoon whispers, “answer him, baby.”

You nod, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he presses himself closer. Jimin hasn’t even noticed your lack of participation, mindlessly humming a song. The sounds of a running sink highlight his vocals. “Oh, absolutely,” you babble. “I wouldn’t tell a soul.” 

“Ha!” Jimin scoffs. “I knew I could always count on you, Miss __,” he snarks playfully. 

The hand toying with your clit comes around your waist, fingers stroking against your folds from this new angle. A silent moan has you writhing forward, unconsciously away from him as Jimin babbles on the other end of the line. He’s none the wiser to the lewd acts happening on the line, listening to the sound of his own voice. Namjoon lands a mean little bite against your shoulder, plunging his finger deeper inside of your clenching hole. 

Paired with his teasing fingers, it’s nearly impossible to withhold your moans, biting your lip until it stings. “Fuck, fuck,” you whimper against the sheets, holding your phone as far away as possible from your mouth as a litany of curse words spill from your lips. Namjoon chuckles at your dramatics, not like he has his fingers deep inside of you right now or anything. 

“So cute,” he hums, removing his hand from your clit to snatch your towel away. It gives way too easily, messily thrown over the edge of the bed. With your back completely exposed now, Namjoon wastes no time trailing a line of kisses up your spine, finishing off with an especially wet and hard one behind your ear. “Hang up now.”

His permission sets your body on edge, drawing your phone close again. Jimin is talking about dinner or something, you don’t even know. Not an ounce of remorse fills you when you clear your throat and hurriedly announce, “I have to—“ Namjoon’s cock, finally uncovered by his towel, presses against your folds and you nearly lose it. “—I have to go now, Jimin,” you say, leveling your breathing as best as you can. 

“Wait, what the fuck?” Jimin says, thrown off by your sudden departure. 

The mushroom tip of his cock kisses your clit. “Fuck— I really have to go.” And you hang up, chucking the phone off to the side hastily. With your hands both freed, you scramble onto your back, meeting the amused gaze of your husband behind you. “Fuck me, now.”

Namjoon laughs, reaching for the towel barely clinging onto his waist. One suave swoop later and it joins yours on the floor. “You did good,” he praises, lowering himself between your spread thighs. You roll your eyes, grabby hands reaching for his hips until he’s sitting snugly against you, cock resting over your throbbing cunt. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you snap, the tight feeling in your tummy growing with every second that passes. Namjoon isn’t as unaffected as he pretends to be, a pearly bead of cum appearing at the tip of his engorged cock. “Just fuck me now.”

He raises a brow. “Missionary?” As if it’s the first time. 

“Is there something wrong with it?” you ask anyway, self-consciously reaching an arm over yourself to cover your naked breasts. They’ve pebbled over just from his stare alone. 

Namjoon hesitates, the hand on your hip drawing slow circles with his thumb. Eventually, he responds with a halfhearted shrug. “It’s not the best.” This is news to you, and you find yourself sitting up at the sudden bomb he’s dropped. 

He’s still hard as rock between you, his dick laying almost artfully against your slit. You really just want to throw aside all reservations and begin grinding against him, penetration be damned, but now Namjoon’s got that thoughtful quirk to his lips. The one that usually accompanies any big brained idea, so you settle down, nudging him with your thigh until he’s looking at you again. “Penny for your thoughts?” What you really want to say is please fuck me like I’m just another cum rag of yours and make it hurt, but alas. 

Namjoon sits back on his haunches. “I read somewhere that on your hands and knees is the best way to get pregnant.” You choke on your own tongue, face ablaze from his forward statement. Meanwhile, Namjoon is looking as relaxed as ever. 

You hadn’t really discussed children after Hyejoo. The wordless agreement had been that sure, you were both down for another kid sometime in the future. But the exact date had sort of been murky. Hyejoo is three now, and you heard from another mom that it’s difficult for children with wide age gaps to get along. You don’t want her growing up being far removed from another sibling. 

But also, now?

It’s like Namjoon knows your thoughts before you even do. “Alright, wifey, say no more,” he says, leaning down to place a kiss against your lips. “I’ll get the condom, alright?”

And then he’s stepping off the bed, every muscle of his toned body flexing as he swaggers over towards the dresser. He’s a walking dream, the physical embodiment of all your crazy sex fantasies, and he wants to fuck a baby into you. Your pussy says yes, but your rationality is still on the fence. 

You roll onto your side, head propped into your open palm. “You want another baby?” you ask tentatively. Namjoon shrugs, carefully opening the new box of condoms you had bought half a year ago. 

“It wouldn’t hurt to have another kid,” he answers, procuring a tiny foil packet from the box and returning to his spot between your legs. It’s like staring at a marble statue from this angle, the defined planes of his chest and abdomen, the gorgeous slope of his nose, the sharp angles of his face. You really lucked out. 

Your decision comes just as he’s easing the rubber over the tip of his cock, the swollen head just barely enveloped. You place a hand against his wrist, earning his attention. “Take it off,” you mumble, and you swear on your entire life he swells another inch. 

“Oh, baby,” he groans, hastily throwing the condom somewhere across the room. He rolls over you, bulging arms sweeping you up into his embrace, lips capturing yours in a sloppy kiss. You whimper, letting his tongue push itself past your lips. When he pulls away, it’s with a wet pop and glistening lips. They’re so puffy now, flushed a nice rosy color, that makes him look even more handsome when he smiles down at you. “Gonna look so pretty all pregnant,” he beams, placing a chaste kiss against you one last time before he’s hurriedly rolling you onto your stomach. 

You hide your bashful expression against the sheets, suddenly feeling very shy before him. But then Namjoon’s cock is running along your lips and you’re left a shivering mess. “Please just fuck me,” you beg hoarsely, and Namjoon obeys. 

“Whatever you want, wifey,” he teases, and before you can call him out for his cheesiness, he’s pressing his thumb into your aching hole once more. “Is this okay?” he asks, somberly for the first time in what seems like forever. 

“I’m okay,” you confess, a little shyly now that you know his true motives.  

Namjoon chuckles, quickly removing his finger from inside of you to give your ass one soothing pat. “Going in,” he warns you, and finally, you’re rewarded for all your struggles. It’s only as his mushroom head squeezes in that you realize you could have done with a bit more stretching, but that thought fades away the more and more he pushes in. “Fuck,” he groans, the low intonation of his voice making your toes curl.

If it’s not his voice, it’s the sheer length of his cock inside of you. The girth makes your spine tingle, has you muffling a pitiful whimper into the comforter beneath you. “Relax for me,” he directs, and then suddenly he’s placing a palm against your back, pushing you further down. “Hips up.” 

You groan. The normally soft fabric of the blanket feels like hell on your sensitive breasts. “I’m trying,” you whine, pushing back onto him in an effort to familiarize yourself with his cock again. It’s been so long since he’s been inside of you like this, since he’s filled you so well, that your body acts a little stupid now. He hasn’t even begun thrusting and you already feel like you’ll cum just from this.  

The angle is different than your usual style, has him moving along every inch of you as he sinks in. Two big hands grab at your waist, manhandling you closer to him until you’re just like he wants you to be. “There we go,” he sighs, and with him motionless, you finally relax. It’s about a two second pause before he begins to draw himself back out. “How do you want it?” he grunts, but it’s lost beneath the moan that escapes you. It’s the same question he asked you in the tub, right before Jimin called, except this time you have an answer. 

“Fast,” you gasp, the pain from the stretch finally, finally, melting away as your body grows accustomed to his presence inside of you. “Do it fast, please.”

Namjoon does as he’s told, waiting until he’s pulled out until the tip to satisfy your requests. And then he’s off. 

Your body isn’t as young as it once was, left a little worn from the entire child-bearing process. Sometimes you wonder how exactly you and Namjoon would fuck until sunrise before, how your sex drive was so high that it allowed such a thing to happen. Admittedly, there’s currently a stiffness inside of you that has been there for a while now, and you barely remember how you got rid of it before. Apparently, this is how.

Namjoon’s hard cock rams into you once, makes you release the most embarrassingly loud moan at the sudden intrusion, and it’s like all those months of tension that built up in your body are melted away. His cock pushes past your folds, creating a lewd squelching sound that would otherwise leave you mortified to learn it came from your body. You shudder, desperately pushing your ass back against him in a feeble attempt to feel it again. 

“Still so fucking tight for me,” he growls, snapping his hips forwards. His skin slaps against yours, leaves you feeling tender from the brutal movements of his body. But at the same time, it feels absolutely terrific. 

Your lips are still coated in your own wetness, have him noisily moving in and out. “J- Joon,” you whimper softly, but you doubt he hears it over the sound of his own labored breathing. “More.”

He responds with a sudden piston inside of you that has the tip of his cock nearly kissing your cervix. “More?” he huffs, the hand on your back pressing down until you fear you’ll become one with the mattress. “You want more?” You nod hurriedly, somehow managing to stretch a hand down between you to toy with your clit. The brush of your own fingers has you bucking back onto him in surprise.

Wordlessly, he speeds up his pace, thrusting his hips into your velvety walls at a faster speed than before. It’s a weird sensation, a sort of ticklish feeling m that makes you tremble with each roll forward. You can’t say the two of you have done it in this position a lot, always preferring the more romantic missionary position to anything else, but this experience was quickly making you an avid believer of its validity as a top tier sex position. 

You swirl your pointer finger around your clit, trying to sync up your shaky touch with his steady thrusts. It’s useless, because every time you feel like you’ve gotten into the same groove, Namjoon one ups you by hauling you back against him. “Oh, f- fuck,” you sob, clawing at the sheets beneath you. 

Namjoon groans, momentarily pausing his rapid thrusts to roll his buried cock against you. “Come on, baby,” he husks, the hilt of his cock kissing your folds. 

There’s a lot of built up sexual tension inside of you, months on top of months of nothingness. Not to mention that little scene in the bathtub just now. So you’re not really surprised that your orgasm rears its head so early, curling up tightly in your stomach the longer Namjoon fucks you. He’s back to thrusting now, shallow little movements that make you see stars every time his cock glides inside of you. “Joon, I'm gonna...” you rasp out pitifully, grinding back against him. 

“Whenever you want,” he murmurs, leaning forward to press a kiss against your shoulder. It’s sweet, but on top of that, it has him pushing in further than before, finally pressed against that sensitive spot inside of you that makes your entire body lock up. You sob, thighs quivering when he reaches an arm around you. It’s almost romantic how your hands meet, his fingers covering yours as he guides them over your clit slowly. “Give it to me, baby,” he croons, lips pressed securely against your neck. He leaves soft kisses there, smooches really, that make you melt. 

Another shallow buck of his hips forward and you’re cumming, breaths picking up until they accumulate into a choked wail against the sheets. “Fuck— oh, fuck,” you cry, your thighs spasming from the force of your first satisfying orgasm in months. Namjoon holds you through it, slowly thrusting inside of you until he’s drawn out your entire orgasm.

The new added pleasure makes his movements sound even wetter, dirtier even. “That’s it,” he purrs, pushing himself back up to his full height behind you. You feel absolutely boneless beneath him, laying limply against the mattress as Namjoon repositions your hips for himself. “Can I finish like this, sweetheart?” he asks anyway, thumbs drawing a soothing pattern along your hip. 

You can barely catch your breath, so you settle on a halfhearted nod that has him huffing out a laugh. 

For some reason, Namjoon fucks you harder once he knows you’ve had your fill. Like he’s trying to draw another orgasm out of you, but is also the least bit concerned with you. Honestly, it works. He moves fast and hard, like he has no regard for your pleasure, and for some reason that turns you on more than it should. It’s this weird fantasy of yours, to be mistreated by a man as respectful as Namjoon, and you find yourself weirdly fulfilling it now as he fucks his cock into you. 

His fingers dig into your skin, wildly bucking into you as he chases his own high, and it’s embarrassing how quickly a second one builds up for you. You moan at one particular thrust, body sensitive all over. “Oh,” you whimper, “Namjoon.”

He grunts, your cries fueling him on as he continues his mad race to the end. “Gonna cum with me again?” he pants, his quick pace rocking you forward. You nod, using your killer grip on the sheets to ground yourself as you weakly attempt to meet his thrusts. “Aren’t you the sweetest,” he hums, and doesn’t let you respond as he continues to jackhammer his way into your pussy at a bruising pace. 

It takes a few more thrusts, and one whiny cry of his name— “come on, Joonie,” you whimper, turning to throw him a teary-eyed gaze over your shoulder; he shudders at the sight —until Namjoon is finally tipped over the edge, shooting his pleasure deep into you on the next thrust. It’s warm, paints your walls and threatens to spill out when he finally pulls out. 

But Namjoon has read up, using those big strong arms of his to keep you from collapsing onto your tummy as he scrambles around for something to keep your hips up. “It sticks better this way,” he says, a sheen of sweat against his temples when he flops down beside you. 

“What sticks better,” you groan, the achy feeling of just having your world rocked quickly settling into your bones. 

Namjoon leans forward and places a kiss against your lips, as if saying here, for all your hard work. “You know... it,” he shrugs, hands behind his head as he prepares himself to supervise your post-sex nap, just to make sure you don’t accidentally move around and let his cum leak out. “You did good, wifey,” he praises with another smooch. “Maybe we should let Hyejoo sleep over at Jimin’s more.”

Hyejoo’s return is the highlight of the year. 

You pick her up around noon, and your heart nearly grows ten sizes when you see her come running down Jimin’s front steps and into your arms. “Hi, mommy,” she beams, the same smile as Namjoon. And just like Namjoon, you can’t stop yourself from covering her face in tiny kisses. She says they tickle and squirms and squeals in your embrace. 

Jimin’s at the door with this weirdly blank look on his face. “Hey, Jimin,” you call out, helping Hyejoo load her bag into the backseat.

“Hey…” he greets, just as Hyejoo frantically begins calling for you to buckle her in. “Um, __,” Jimin says, but you’re a little busy securing the tiny love of your life into her booster seat, so you just throw him a quick glance to let him know you’re listening. Kinda. “There’s something I have to tell you—“

“I wanna see daddy!” Hyejoo babbles from the backseat, wildly waving her hands around as you finally close the door on her. With it shut, her loud voice is drowned out and you’re left raising a brow at Jimin as you round the front of the car. 

“What’s up?” you ask. 

Jimin comes down the steps, awkwardly hovering by the front of your car. “Um, when we were on the phone—“ Hyejoo knocks her tiny hands against the window, gesturing for you to hurry up. You flash Jimin an apologetic frown at the interruption. “Well, you see. She kinda heard us— well, me—” 

Another flurry of knocks, and you can’t wait to relay to Namjoon how excited your daughter had been to see him again. It’ll boost his ego, not that he really needs it to be any bigger. “That’s fine,” you tell Jimin, swinging your door open. Immediately, Hyejoo’s high-pitched voice fills the space between you and Jimin. “You know I don’t mind talking to the missus,” you joke, nudging his side. “She’s my friend too, ya know.”

“Gotta show daddy something!” Hyejoo shouts from the backseat, has this big smile on her face that makes you smile as well. 

Beside you, Jimin is quickly falling apart. “No, well—” you drop down into your seat “it wasn’t her who heard—“ You shut the door, lowering the window to thank Jimin one more time. Hyejoo beats you to it.

“Bye, Mr. Jimin!” she says, tiny legs kicking around all wildly in her excitement. You shake your head with a grin, waving goodbye to Jimin one last time as you pull out of his driveway. 

“Daddy!” Hyejoo shrieks upon entering your home. Her tiny overnight bag is tossed down at the entryway, ladybug rain boots haphazardly kicked towards the general direction of the shoe closet. Namjoon had been upstairs in his study when you left, but he now comes bounding down the steps at the sound of your daughter’s voice. He cries out a dopey, “princess”, as he scoops her up in his big arms. He does a twirl and everything, so dramatic. But it makes Hyejoo giggle like crazy. 

She allows one big fat kiss against her chubby cheeks before she’s shushing him with the news of her announcement. “Daddy, look,” she beams, holding his face between her tiny hands. “I can say the f sound now!”

Namjoon has been avidly working towards this ability for months now. Namjoon, who has spent nights reading every page of every child development book possible, who has spent hours decorating pretty flashcards for her, who has sectioned off time from his busy schedule everyday just to go over lessons with her. Well, Namjoon looks over the goddamn moon at the news. 

“Let’s hear it, honey,” you urge, stepping in when his happiness renders him incapable of speech. So he just nods along, looks like a bobblehead doll beside you. 

And with both of her proud, sometimes overprotective, parents standing before her, Hyejoo puts on a big grin and says, “fuck.”

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[itsdanii]

can i req the iwa, atsumu, and suna being in a secret relationship w the reader and the reader gets insecure bc they wanna keep it a secret? w comfort after plspls

Hey, bubs! Of course, you can request ♥️ Unfortunately, I'm only taking 1-2 characters per request so I canceled Iwaizumi from the list. Also, this is only Atsumu's part. Don't worry, I'm still going to do Suna's part, however, it will be uploaded tomorrow instead of today. I hope you enjoy it! Have a good day, stay safe and hydrated! ♥️

Secret Relationship

genre: semi-angst to fluff, comfort

warning/s: self doubt and insecurity, descriptions of anxiety, do message me if i missed any

a/n: please do read the warnings before you proceed. warnings have been put there for a reason.

ft. atsumu miya

maybe keeping your relationship wasn't the best decision after all

Atsumu Miya

You and Atsumu have been in a relationship for 2 years now

With the rising popularity of Atsumu, not only throughout Inarizaki but to the other schools as well, he decided on keeping your relationship a secret

Though you respected Atsumu's choice, it can't be helped that sometimes your emotions got the best of you

Random girls would always approach your boyfriend. They were basically anywhere, everywhere - at school, during practice matches, and even when you were both trying to have a simple date on a nearby cafe

You tried to confront Atsumu about it once but you only ended up fighting, him saying that there was nothing to worry for because you were the only person he loved

So despite the heavy feeling of insecurity looming over you, you tried to understand his side which eventually caused the both of you to make up

You tried to ignore the insecurity and put your trust on Atsumu

But maybe sometimes, trust isn't just enough

"Y/n, someone's looking for you."

You lifted your gaze from the book you were reading, eyes snapping towards the direction of the door where two unfamiliar students were currently standing and waiting for you.

Even without having the need to hear what they needed you for, you instantly knew why they're here. For the past weeks, after Inarizaki's defeat against Karasuno, you've been bombarded by several girls, holding chocolates and teddy bears in hand, asking you to deliver them to Atsumu since they were afraid of giving it to him directly. So, as his "bestfriend," they wanted you to give it to him instead.

And although you wanted to be mad and scream at them to stop, you couldn't just do that. It would be wrong for you to snap at them since nobody, aside from Suna and Osamu, knew about you and Atsumu's relationship.

Sighing loudly, you shut the book you were reading and went over to the two girls with a semi-forced smile. "For 'Tsumu?" you asked, taking the paperbag from them and taking a peek of what's inside.

One of the girls nodded eagerly, her eyes sparkling as she fanned her face with her hands. "Yes, please! I really really like Atsumu and the way he played from the previous match was so splendid! With every spike, I can't help but fall in love even more!"

You could only chuckle at what she said because even though there was a feeling of jealousy inside of you, you wouldn't be able to deny that what she said was true. You loved how he was able to inspire other people through sports and you couldn't be more proud of being his s/o.

"Please hand this letter to Atsumu, senpai!" the other girl said, bowing down as she handed you a letter.

You reluctantly took the envelope from her, your body becoming stiff as you muttered a small "Okay."

"I put all my feelings and support in that letter so I'd really appreciate if you handed it to him," she said with a smile.

Just how were you supposed to tell these girls to stop giving you stuff and ordering you to hand them over to your boyfriend? You weren't the type of person who would hinder others to relay their feelings. In fact, it wasn't your job to blatantly tell them to give up. It was Atsumu's responsibility, not yours.

But it wasn't your obligation to be their messenger as well.

Torn between two sides, you decided on maintaining a polite smile, giving the two juniors a pat on the head before nodding. "I'll make sure to deliver these to him, okay? Now, go back to your classroom and study well."

The two girls glanced at each other, eyes sparkling before smiling at you. "Thank you so much!" Turning around, the two went on their way, squealing slightly at their successful mission.

You, on the other hand, sighed and stared at the paperbag with a small frown. "Guess that's two more girls on the list," you mumbled before slipping back inside your classroom.

-

When the class ended, you immediately headed to the gym where you knew Atsumu was currently training. With the paperbag and 2 more boxes of chocolate given by some fangirls along the way, you entered the gym and placed the items down on the empty bench.

"That fer me, angel?" came Atsumu's voice from behind you.

Spinning around, you were met with a grinning Atsumu before getting engulfed with a warm hug. Sighing with your eyes closed, you wrapped your arms around him tightly, unconsciously gripping the back of his jersey. You couldn't help but bury your face more to his chest despite the slight sweat clinging to his clothes.

"Ya alright?" Atsumu murmured beside your ear, worry obviously evident on his tone as he slightly squeezed you.

As you were about to answer, someone from behind Atsumu cleared their throat. Your small moment was immediately cut off and Atsumu reeled back as if you were caught doing something wrong.

The comfort he brought awhile ago was instantly replaced by uncertainty and insecurity, making your heart throb as you bit your lower lip.

"Sorry, did I interrupt something?" Aran asked while shifting his gaze between you and Atsumu.

With a forced chuckle, Atsumu was quick to scratch the back of his head. "It's fine. I was just givin' y/n here a hug. They seem kinda down. Ya know, bestfriend duties."

Bestfriend.

"Ah.." Aran simply muttered with a slow nod. "Practice is almost done. Why don't ya sit down while we cool down and clean up?"

Sitting down on the bench, you looked at Aran with a small smile before nodding. "Okay," you said before turning your head to Atsumu's direction. His eyebrow was already raised as if asking you whether you were fine or not.

"I'm fine Atsumu. I'll wait for you here."

When the boys went back to the court, you were left alone to ponder with your thoughts. It felt as if the sounds around you suddenly died, your self doubts once again making its presence known.

You knew how much Atsumu loves you. In fact, he never failed to remind you everyday. Not once did he forgot to say it and express it through actions, or at least when you were both alone.

Everytime you were in school, he would deny your relationship. When people asked if you were his s/o, he would simply shake his head and claim you as his bestfriend. It really didn't bother you at first but as the time passed, you were slowly starting to question why he would do such thing.

Though he claimed that it was to avoid people from harassing you and picking on you, was it really? What if there was a deeper reason?

What if he was slowly getting tired of you? What if he didn't even liked you in the first place?

You anxiously tapped your foot on the floor at the thought. Gripping the hem of your hoodie, you stared at the gifts you brought from his fangirls. You knew that it was an act of invading someone's privacy but you couldn't help but reach for the letter given by your junior awhile ago.

You took a quick glance at the boys, checking if they were still cooling down, before opening the envelope slowly. As you read on the letter, you unconscious tapped your foot faster on the floor, your grip on the paper tightening as you let each words sink into you.

Bit by bit, you absorbed what was written on the paper, making the unpleasant feeling inside you deepen. You wouldn't deny that the letter was well written and you were certain that if it was handed to Atsumu by that girl personally, she might be able to get his attention.

After all, she was pretty. She looked like a bubbly person and someone who people would easily get along with. There was an optimistic aura around her which you knew Atsumu would appreciate.

And maybe if-

"Y/n."

You were snapped out of your thoughts by Atsumu's hand touching your shoulder.

Jolting up slightly, you looked up at him with wide eyes, immediately noticing the worried expression on his face. "Tsumu.." you mumbled with a shaky voice, your eyes glossing with tears as your lips trembled.

Atsumu was quick to sit down beside you. Lifting you up, he sat you down on his lap and nestled your face on the side of his neck, knowing how much you hated it when people see you crying.

"Y-your teammates," you mumbled against his skin, hiding your face even more as you tightened your grip on the letter you were holding, almost crumpling it.

"Let's worry about them later, alright, angel? Yer my priority and ya know that," he answered while rubbing your back, "Now, tell me what happened. Why are ya crying?"

With the overwhelming emotions surrounding you, it took you a few seconds before you could answer, and you were thankful that Atsumu was patient enough to wait instead of forcing you. "Do you really love me, Tsumu?"

You felt Atsumu stiffen at your question and for a biref moment, you were scared of hearing the answer.

Was this it? Was he really lying to you all this time?

"Look at me, angel," Atsumu said, slightly pulling away from his embrace to cup your cheeks in his hands. "Of course, I do. Where is this coming from? Did somebody-"

"No," you cut him off. "It's just that... you always tell people that we're nothing but bestfriends. I can't always have my moments with you because you want to hide our relationship. It didn't really matter at first but... because of your constant denial, your fangirls would keep sending me these random stuffs and ask me to give them to you. I'm scared, Tsumu. What if one day you get tired of me... or worse, what if it's me who gets tired? I don't like this set-up..."

"Y/n-"

"I want to be able to express my feelings. I want the people to know that you're mine. Why can't you show them that you love me, Tsumu?... Do you even love me?"

Atsumu was left speechless as he listened to your words. All he could do was rub your back soothingly while listening to you as you let everything out. As you did, the guilt inside of him kept on piling up, enough to make him clench his jaw at how disappointed he was at himself for making you cry.

"Of course, I do. I love ya so much, angel. Don't ever ferget that. I'm sorry fer not taking yer feelings in consideration. I didn't know that ya have been feeling this way fer quite a while now. I really thought that we were already fine after our first argument about this but.. I guess I should've paid more attention," Atsumu said while staring at you, his hands still cupping your cheeks to angle your face to him. "The reason why I wanted to hide our relationship was fer people not to bother ya. It wasn't my intention to make ya feel insecure. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, angel." Wiping your cheeks with his thumb, Atsumu leaned down to place a kiss on your forehead. "Would it make ya feel better if we open our relationship to other people? No more hiding it."

Nodding, you wrapped your arms around his neck and smiled. "Mhm, yes, please."

"Alright, if that's what ya want."

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated ♥️

[julia-highstorms]

Kiera Tomoe (Wake the Dead MC)

or Splitter by The Raiders

In celebration of WtD MC’s day on Wake the Dead Appreciation Week (hosted by @wtdapreciationweek ​), here are some facts about Kiera Tomoe, my MC and protagonist of my WtD fanfics.

Character Profile

Name: Kiera Tomoe

Face claim: Nana Komatsu

Age: 25

Birthday: May 20

Star sign: Taurus

MBTI: ISFP

Height: 5’6" - 168 cm 

Ethnicity: Japanese American

Sexuality: demisexual demiromantic

Personality: Pragmatic, stubborn, dutiful and considerate. Kiera is highly pragmatic, often preferring a hands-on approach than wasting time theorizing, so she usually makes decisions fast and firmly, before thinking thoroughly. She's stubborn and will go to the end with her decision, and there's nothing one can do to change her mind. But Kiera is above all considerate of all people and their needs and her dutiful nature made her, not coincidentally, Olympus leader, a role which she takes very seriously.

Relationships:

Brynn - Kiera respected and admired her sister greatly. Brynn was her role model, and Kiera always looked up to her. Kiera always compares herself with Brynn and is often thinking if Brynn had survived and became the Olympus leader instead, what would she do, if she would be a better leader to their colony than herself. Brynn was 7 years older.

Dad and Papa - Kiera doesn't remember much about her dads. In fact, everything she knows about them is because Brynn told her. But she knows that they loved the two girls truly. When they adopted both girls, they decided to keep their surname with them, so they would remember their ancestry and eventually look out for their biological family if they wished.

Eli - Kiera doesn’t know how to explain it, but she has shared a deep emotional connection with Eli since they met. Maybe because he had protected her and took care of her and the group when Brynn died. This bond developed to something deeper and stronger, and she started having romantic feelings towards Eli, as well as sexual attraction (she's demisexual demiromantic after all). They might not always agree, but they respect, trust and care for each other greatly. Eli is three years older than Kiera.

Troy - Kiera and Troy came to the Tower on the same day and have been friends since then, when they were still little kids. They always skipped classes together to do some mayhem. What Troy has in charm, Kiera has in charisma and they always found a way to get out of being punished. They love each other like siblings and have never been involved romantically, nor had romantic feelings toward each other. Troy is one year older than her.

Shannon - Kiera and Shannon are the same age and share great respect towards each other, and their friendship built up naturally. They always listen to each other and speak up their feelings.Shannon has this safe and secure aura over her that made Kiera like and rely on her since the very beginning. The scientist usually is the one caught up in the middle of Eli’s and Kiera’s argument, always wishing them to forgive each other.

Angel - Angel is a crazy and super fun girl in the eyes of Kiera, someone to have a good laugh with, that lightens up the mood around with her weirdness and quirkiness. Kiera finds Angel super smart and skilled, and sees her as a younger sister. Angel is two years younger than Kiera.

Sledge - They might have different approaches on leading, but Kiera admires Sledge greatly and the feeling is reciprocated.Talking to the Raider’s leader is always something unpredictable, but she feels like she always learn something. Sledge thinks that Kiera is a brave leader and strong fighter, and Kiera thinks that Sledge is wise and fearless. Sledge relates to Kiera in some level, since she sees herself in the Olympus’s leader.

Some facts:

Kiera was 4 years old when the outbreak happened, 21 years ago. Brynn was 11.

She was the top archer of her class.

Kiera has no idea of what she would have become if the apocalypse hadn’t happened. The only life she knows is fighting zombies, and she’s pretty good at it.

In an alternative non-apocalyptical universe, Kiera, Shannon, Troy, Eli and Angel would be in a electronic punk rock band, named Drones. The Raider's would be another band. 

Kiera and Eli eventually have two kids: a boy and a girl.

Random fact: Since I named my OPH MC, aka Rei Sato, after Sailor Mars (Rei Hino), my favorite sailor, I decided to name some of my MCs after other sailors: QB MC's name is Mina, after Sailor Venus Minako Aino; and WtD MC's surname is Tomoe, the same surname of Sailor Saturn, the Sailor of Death

________________________________

Playlist:

Little Dark Age - MGMT

Here Comes The End (feat. Judith Hall) - Gerard Way

Youth Without Youth - Metric

Knights of Cydonia - Muse

She - Green Day

Help I'm Alive - Metric

Na Na Na (Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na) - My Chemical Romance

Heads Will Roll - Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Map of the Problematique - Muse

Apocalypse - Cigarettes After Sex

Slow Mo - BamBam

Time Is Running Out - Muse

It's The End Of The World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine) - R.E.M.

________________________________

To know more about Kiera (and her relationship with Eli), read my Wake the Dead Masterlist.

________________________________

Tagging:  @keviriass @smetje24689 @gipsydanger17 @calliope-luve @euphorichappiness10 @tinfoilhat2719  @kinda-iconic @wtdapreciationweek

[ifmywishescametrue]

Choosing which prompt to send you from list was an impossible task!! They’re just all that good🥺 but if u feel inspired, maybe 15 or 76 would be really cute for stevetony?

Also, hope you have the best and loveliest day, friend 💖💝

thank you for sending one!! for #76 - "thank you for making me smile" - here's 1.6k words of getting together and absolutely terrible jokes

also i hope you have the loveliest day too 🥺

"I'm never listening to your advice again," Steve says the second he walks in the door. He lets it slam shut behind him and stomps off to his bedroom with another rough bang.

Tony and Bucky exchange a look on the couch, and Tony pauses their video game.

"Me or you?"

"Probably you," Bucky says. "Your advice is usually shit."

Tony scoffs, "Please, I'm a genius for a reason. All of my advice is amazing. Or are you forgetting that I'm the reason that you have a boyfriend right now?"

"One time in the last three years and you won't let it go."

"It'd be you and your right hand for the rest of your life if it wasn't for me."

Bucky rolls his eyes, "I would have made it work with Sam on my own eventually. But that's besides the point. I haven't given Steve any advice lately, so it has to be you. And in case you forgot, I don't even live here. He didn't know I was here when he said it."

"You don't live here?" Tony says with mock surprise. "Wow, you eat an awful lot of our food then."

Bucky grins, "It's payback for all the times you did the same to me before I moved out. Now go fix Steve. We'll rematch tomorrow."

"I didn't break him," Tony argues, even as he sets his controller down and stands from the couch. "I am a beacon of wisdom."

"You started a fire in the microwave twice last week, beacon."

Tony flips him off on his way to Steve's bedroom. He knocks once and ignores it when Steve tells him to go away.

Steve is sitting at his desk with his back to the door and his sketchbook open in front of him. He has a pencil in his hand, but the page is untouched.

"So, uh, what's up with you?"

"Nothing."

Tony nods slowly, "Right, okay. Care to share what advice of mine went wrong exactly? Cause I gotta say I'm drawing a blank."

"I was talking to Buck."

"Oh," Tony says in relief, then he frowns. "How'd you even know he was here?"

"When isn't he here? Our fridge is always empty because of him."

Tony smiles and flops down on Steve's bed, propping himself up against the pillows with his arms folded behind his head. He pushes the back of Steve's chair with his foot, making it spin his way.

"So what did Bucky do?"

Steve looks like he's about to say, but then he bites his lip and shakes his head instead. "Really doesn't matter."

Tony looks at him for a long moment, taking in all those subtle tells of his. The slight downturn of the corners of his mouth and the crease between his brows, but they don't come with any tension in his jaw or shoulders, which means he's more disappointed than angry. His eyes never hide hurt, but there's none to be found in them. Whatever it was didn't crush him, and Tony knows just how to fix him when he's like this.

He pokes Steve's arm with his socked toes. "Hey, Steve, why did the golfer bring two pairs of pants?"

Steve sighs, but there's already a hint of a smile. Further evidence to support Tony's hypothesis.

"Why, Tony?"

"In case he got a hole in one."

Steve presses his lips together and shakes his head. "That's not very funny."

"Why do bees have sticky hair?"

The look Steve gives him is long-suffering.

"Because they use honeycombs," Tony grins, and Steve relaxes back into his chair a little. "What kind of music do planets like?"

"Neptunes," Steve says, smirking a little, and Tony pouts dramatically.

"Nooo, how did you know that?"

"Used it on me two months ago. Remember when you broke the sink and you didn't want me to be mad at you anymore?"

"I also remember fixing the sink in the same day, but fine dwell on the fact that I broke it in the first place."

Steve laughs, and Tony feels the knot in his own chest loosen. He hates it when Steve's upset. It throws him off his own axis, because his world revolves around Steve's sun.

He gets up from the desk chair, and Tony shifts over to make room for him on the bed. They reach for each other's hands at the same time, interlocking fingers in the small space between them.

It's moments like these when the longing hits him the most. When Steve is this close, but it doesn't mean nearly as much to him as it does to Tony.

Sometimes he pictures what it would be like if he leaned over a little more. If Steve's eyes would flicker down to his lips, then away quickly like he didn't want to be caught. He wonders what Steve's cheek would feel like under his hand as he pulls his attention back, silently telling him it's okay to look.

It always stops there in his mind, right before a first kiss that he just knows would change his life. Guilt creeps in, because he should be happy with what he has. Happy with all of the pieces Steve lets him have now. It's more than most people will ever get.

"Thank you," Steve says. "You're the only one who can ever get me to smile after a day like today."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Tony asks, tilting his head to the side to look at him.

Steve bites his lip again, staring up at the ceiling. It takes a long moment for him to talk.

"There's somebody that I like, but they don't like me back. Not like that, anyway."

Tony's heart sinks, but he tries not to let it show. "You told them and they rejected you?"

Steve shakes his head, "No, I don't need to tell them to know how they feel. But Bucky said that I should find someone else to get over them, so I asked out that girl in my art history class."

"The one with the nose ring?"

"That's the one, yeah. We went for coffee this morning."

"How was it?" Tony asks, and more guilt accompanies the fact that he's actively and selfishly hoping Steve is about to say that it was awful.

Steve shrugs, "It was fine, technically. But then she tried to kiss me, and I sort of freaked out and ruined it. She looked at me like I was insane, and, god, it was so embarrassing, but I just couldn't do it when I know that I don't actually want anything like that from her. I didn't want to lead her on. It's not fair to her."

"Not fair to you either," Tony says softly. "You shouldn't force yourself to like someone you don't. And whoever the other person is, the one that doesn't want you back, they're missing out on someone really amazing, and they're stupid to let you go."

Steve smiles, but it's tinged with sadness as he turns his head to look at Tony. "I don't know about that. They can do better than me."

"Hey, no, don't say that. You're incredible. You're funny and smart and gorgeous, and I've never met anyone as kind as you in my entire life. There isn't anyone better than you, okay? And if they don't see that, then fuck them. Clearly, they're dumb as hell anyway," Tony rants, getting progressively louder as he goes and his free hand gesturing wildly.

"They're kind of a genius, actually."

Tony rolls his eyes, "Yeah, sure they are. Way to miss the point."

Steve's smile turns amused. "No, but they really are."

"What is this?" Tony asks with narrow eyes. "Are you trying to make me jealous by saying you know other geniuses? Cause I'm the only know-it-all in your life. I claimed the spot. It's mine."

"Definitely yours," Steve agrees, and he shifts a little to turn on his side. With his left hand, he tentatively reaches up towards Tony's face, and Tony's breath catches at the brush of fingertips against his cheek. "I think I might have been wrong, though, about how they feel about me."

It takes a few seconds for it to click in Tony's, but even when it does he doesn't believe it just yet.

"Why's that?"

"Apparently they think I'm incredible, and they get really angry when anybody else thinks otherwise."

Tony smiles softly, "Yeah, they really don't like that."

Steve's thumb strokes across his cheekbone, then his fingers drift back to run through his hair.

"They think I'm funny, too, but they've also got a terrible sense of humor, so I don't know how accurate that is."

Tony laughs, then says, "You know what I think?"

"What's that?"

"I think you should kiss them. Just go for it and see what happens."

Steve smiles, slowly leaning down, "You really think so? It could make things weird. We might not be able to be friends anymore."

Tony puts his hand on the nape of Steve's neck, drawing him further in until he's a scant inch away. "Trust me, they don't really want to be just a friend, anyway."

He finds out that Steve's skin is smooth and warm beneath his palms, and his lips are unexpectedly soft. His hands are constantly in motion, slowly mapping out Tony's hips and sides and back like he's memorizing the feeling. As if it's his one chance to learn what Tony feels like he won't let it get away from him. But it won't be the only one. There will be second, third, and hundredth kisses, because Tony knows better than to let someone like Steve slip away.

"Hey, Tony?" Steve whispers after.

"Yeah?"

"What's the best thing about Switzerland?"

Tony smiles, "What?"

"I don't know, but the flag is a big plus."

They stare at each other, and Steve is the first to crack, but his laugh makes Tony follow right behind him.

[diamaker-moon]

Moving Forward - Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Realizations... (pt. 1)

—————

"I am proud of your chosen, Tikki."

Wayzz said in a calm voice. "She took in the responsibility of being a heroine exchange for her time in her civilian life, and now, she chose to carry the heavy responsibility of a Guardian even though she can refuse it and pass it to someone else, leaving everything behind."

The other kwamis nodded at the wise turtle kwami's words. Tikki looked at them and smiled.

"I'm proud of my bug. She's a worthy ladybug and had shown how worthy she is despite her flaws. She made mistakes, but she chose to fix them. And now she's healing from the toxicity she had received in that place. Sleep well, Marinette..."

— previous chapter... —

The Akuma Class was experiencing an unknown change. And they don't know the exact reason.

It's been two weeks since Marinette hasn't been coming to class.

The first day, Alya thought she was just late or have an errand to run during the morning and will come to class after lunch, but it didn't happen. After classes were done, she tried calling her, only to be redirected to her voicemail immediately. Not knowing her 'best friend' had bought a new phone and uses a new number. She was slightly sour thinking that Marinette is being stubborn in hanging out with Lila, and chose to reprimand her for letting her jealousy get in between a possible friendship with the girl.

The others didn't notice how Adrien was down during the rest of that day. They didn't notice Chloé having a slightly pained look in her eyes.

She was slightly angry that Dupain-Cheng easily gave up in exposing the liar, but it's not like she helped the girl. She had no right to be angry about how Dupain-Cheng chose to move on with life. When she saw her being surrounded by people she didn't know and was walking towards a table, she stared for a moment. Chloé hasn't heard her laugh for a while, the bubbly aura around the girl was fading when she was in Dupont.

Chloé hated to admit it, but she envied the ravenette. Dupain-Cheng having a happy family, while her own mother left them to go to New York for work when she was a child, creating a drift between their relationship. Her own father didn't hang out with her anymore due to his duties being the City's Mayor. Dupain-Cheng gained friends while she was being hated for being a bully who always annoys others and uses her triumph card when she gets in trouble.

She was staring at the raventte's table with a melancholic look. The girl was happy, and Chloé couldn't deny it. Part of her wants to convince Dupain-Cheng to go back to Dupont and defeat the vixen but she didn't want to be selfish for once.

After lunch period she came back to class and grabbed Sabrina's attention, and told her to come with her after class.

The two are in Chloé's bedroom in Le Grand Paris.

"I'm sorry..."

Sabrina was startled to hear such sincere words coming from the person she knew could be very bratty for a long time.

"I'm sorry that I treated you like a servant. And that I made you take some of the consequences from my actions. I want to justify it by letting people know that I lost a mother figure from my childhood and didn't teach me proper manners and that she is very bossy, and that I tried to fit in with her. But I know I can't... There are people around me that could've inspired me to be a better person, like Dup-Marinette..."

When Sabrina heard the name she was about to retaliate but Chloé didn't give her a chance.

"No, Sabrina. She's right. I grew up with people who lie about their backgrounds just to fit in with society. Everything can be searched on the internet Sabrina. I know your smart, use it and prove to me right now that you, defending that Liar is a good thing."

Sabrina stared at Chloé, she was growing nervous, Chloé rarely helps around class problems, and for her to defend the person she has been ridiculing for a long time is strange. So Sabrina did it, she searched.

She sat there, appalled and disappointed, after that there are no articles about a Lila Rossi aside from the girl's interviews in the Ladyblog. Chloé left her to go to her balcony and leaned on the railing. Sabrina ran up to her.

"Chloé we need to let everyone know about this! Maybe we can help Marinette expose her? Collect evidence? Contact her mother? We can help Marinette gain back her reputation and her friends! We can—" Sabrina rambled.

"It's too late, Sabrina..." Chloé said that made Sabrina stop rambling and just stared at her in confusion.

"I saw her. She moved on. Marinette was wearing a uniform from a different school. Marinette gave up, Sabrina, she gave up on trying to protect her so-called friends after being dismissed. You should've seen her, she was so happy, something we— I haven't seen for a while..."

That statement made Sabrina tearful. Staring at nothing, she started remembering glimpses of the ravenette.

She remembered the time that when she looks in Marinette's direction, she was so dull. Like a doll— a Marionette, not reacting to how her sketchbook was torn apart, how her dull bluebell eyes stare at Mlle Bustier when she is talking to her, how she doesn't react when their classmates are attacking her for bullying Lila. Sabrina finally realizes how she treated someone like that without proof. Her own father imbedded to her that 'innocent until proven guilty', yet she didn't even try to see both perspectives and just went along with the class.

Her actions are much worse than how Chloé acted.

"I'll give Marinette credit. That liar tried to break her, but she broke free and spread her wings without looking back, and saved herself."

Sabrina nodded at Chloé's statement while copying the girl's position of leaning on the balcony rails, looking out to Paris.

—————

Juleka Couffaine, the Akuma Class' resident shy goth girl.

When she first met Lila Rossi, she was skeptical, her brother is a fan of Jagged Stone, and when she heard Lila say that she saved Jagged's kitten on an airplane runway was very sketchy for Juleka.

Before she knew it, Marinette became a pariah. She often denies becoming an accomplice due to her neutrality to the problem. When Marinette didn't arrive Monday morning, she was worried. The girl who pleaded to the photographer to take another class photo with her in it, to break her 'photo curse', is absent.

She tried calling her phone, but it went straight to voicemail. She was currently sitting on her bed and her brother strumming his guitar. He notices how she was just staring at her phone in a daze.

"Hey, Luka... does Jagged had a pet cat in his life?" Juleka asks looking up to her brother.

Luka was surprised by the question, "As far as I know, he didn't have one. Due to him being allergic and the cat not being rock-and-roll enough. Why?"

Luka was shocked when Juleka started tearing up, he immediately puts his guitar down to comfort her baby sister.

"I messed up, Luka... I badly messed up..."

After calming down a little, Juleka finally explained to him why she was crying. She explained that the new girl in her class made Juleka skeptical about her, and then about Marinette's supposed 'cheating', 'stealing', and 'assault', she then talked about how Marinette kept accusing the new girl of lying but no one believing her, and that soon Marinette became a pariah in their class. Juleka told them about all the lies that Rossi has said.

Overall, Luka was disappointed in her.

"You said that Marinette tried to expose her right? Why didn't you back her up, as a friend would do? Isn't she also your friend? Why didn't you voice out your concern about this to Marinette? or to me?"

Luka sighed, before backing away from his sister. 

"You said your class hates Chloé for being a bully, but aren't they acting like a bully? Your class, isolated Marinette. I don't know how she managed it. But right now, it might be too late to act, Jules. At the very least, try and fix your mistake..." Luka said before leaving her alone for a moment, and let her think.

Meanwhile, Rose's phone suddenly pinged due to a notification. When she checked it out it was a message from Juleka.

Juleka:  Hey, uhm...

Juleka: Can you do me a favour? Please?

Rose:  Sure! What is it?

Juleka: Please trust me on this... can you ask Prince Ali about his environmental charities and if he knows a certain 'Lila Rossi'?

Rose:  Juleka? Why?

Juleka: Please... please ask him...

Rose was confused by Juleka's request, if she thought about it she was asking just like Marinette did months ago. But Rose decided to shake that thought out of her head, she knew Juleka was not a bully, like Marinette and how she bullies Lila.

Rose decided to trust Juleka and messaged him.

Rose: Hello, Ali! Can I ask a question? A friend of mine, wants to know about your environmental charities with Lila Rossi, I think it's for a project. Thank you! <3

She didn't know why but she felt nervous sending that message. She shrugged it off and put the phone down to continue her scrapbooking. She waited for a few minutes before she heard another notification sound from her phone. And when she read the message, she froze.

Prince Ali: Hello, Rose! I'm sorry, but I only do children charities since the Royal Family doesn't control the environemental ones, it is mostly done by Achu's government, and sorry to disappoint but I do not know a Lila Rossi. Is she a new friend of yours?

Rose was too frozen to not even notice that she had dropped her phone. She kept looking in her hand as if it was all just a dream. That Prince Ali did know Lila Rossi, but when she picked her phone back up and read the text once again, it said the same thing.

'This can't be happening! If this is true... then I bullied Marinette for no reason!'

Rose: Oh! I'm... sorry for my misinformation... Lila's a... classmate of mine. Sorry for the trouble...

Rose didn't notice the tears dripping from her eyes.

She was numb. She couldn't deny this information, it is a direct reply from the Prince of Achu. That he— Prince Ali, doesn't know someone named Lila Rossi. She was lied to. Lila Rossi lied to me. She thought.

And Marinette asked you to ask him months ago, didn't she? She tried to warn you... You didn't listen to her!

There was a sudden voice in the back of her mind, how she ridiculed Marinette for bullying Lila. But it was all a lie. She treated Marinette horribly for a lie...

She hurriedly opened her internet browser and searched for any of Lila's accomplishments only to see a bunch of interviews from the Ladyblog, nowhere else.

Rose: Prince Ali... doesn't do environmental charities, he only does children charities and... he doesn't know a Lila Rossi.

Juleka: ... I'm sorry, Rose.

Juleka: I only realized my mistake after talking to Luka, I'm sorry if I didn't voice out when I was skeptical about her in the beginning...

Rose: She lied... She lied!

Rose: I can't believe her! We treated her as a friend!

Juleka: Rose, please calm down! I don't want you to become an akuma! Please!

Seeing that message she tried so hard to calm down. Juleka was right, she doesn't want Shadowmoth to turn her into an Akuma! She needed to calm down.

After calming down, she messaged Marinette, but there was no reply, then she finally noticed that Marinette wasn't present during class that day. So she tried calling but was sent to voicemail immediately. She tried calling a few times before she stopped.

She'll just talk to her tomorrow, but that didn't happen... and it has been two weeks...

—————

Adrien Agreste was in denial.

He didn't want to believe that Marinette really did transfer schools. He wanted to visit her as Chat, but since he hasn't seen his kwami, he can't transform. And he's growing worried every second. No Plagg, no Akuma, and no Marinette...

His worrisome state affected his fencing classes. He was always immediately defeated by Kagami Tsurugi. She was displeased that he became a wimp in fencing.

"What made you so distracted lately? That's not like you Agreste." Kagami said.

"Nothing... I'm just worried about Marinette, she hasn't been in class lately, and it's been two weeks!" Adrien replied.

What Adrien said, made Kagami's brow shot up, in confusion. She had talked to Marinette one time, and she had shared that she transferred schools, and has been doing well. She also found out about the 'Lila situation' in Dupont and was very angry that Adrien Agreste knew but didn't say anything. It took a whole lot of Marinette's energy to stop Kagami from attacking Agreste with her sword or using her mother's sword!

"Haven't you heard?" Kagami asked.

"Heard what? You've talked to Marinette?!" Adrien asked enthusiastically.

"Yes. She had transferred schools due to unfortunate situations here in Dupont." Kagami answered before walking towards the locker rooms.

Adrien ran up towards her, held her shoulders and made her face him. "You're kidding right?! Marinette is still a student here! She'll come back here!"

Kagami stared at him in bewilderment.

"I-I gotta go... Bye Kagami..." Adrien said.

Kagami can only stare at the boy's retreating back. From Kagami's perspective, she thinks that Agreste was in denial of Marinette transferring schools. He was also oblivious to the aspiring designer's feelings. But this was different... The way he tries to convince himself that Marinette still goes to Dupont is unsettling.

It's as if, he was supposed to have control over her life. It made Kagami's instinct more unsettled.

Adrien was pacing around his room after he got home from fencing classes. He was becoming more nervous by the second.

He tried looking for her social media accounts only to find none of it exists, he swore that he followed her socials.

Even Nathalie noticed how jittery the young Agreste was, she tried finding out the reason why, but couldn't pinpoint it due to being sidetracked.

The peacock miraculous was missing from the safe, and Gabriel Agreste was furious! He already lost the Grimoire book, the previous Guardians' tablet and now the fixed peacock miraculous. They reviewed the footage from his security cameras, and found nothing!

This made him sidetracked about his supervillain duties, he ignored the past powerful emotions the brooch felt, in exchange to search the whole mansion about the missing items of his. Adrien was no help.

Gabriel calmed down for a second and felt a negative emotion to vent and try to find out if Ladybug got the peacock miraculous.

When he found one, he informed Nathalie about privacy and went to his lair. he transformed to Hawkmoth once again due to the lack of the peacock miraculous.

"Ah, the agonizing pain of experiencing a heartbreak..."

A butterfly flew and rested in his palm, while he fills it with negative power. Once he is done he opened his palm and lets the Akuma flap its wings.

"Fly away, my little Akuma, and evilize this brokenhearted woman!"

The Akuma made its way towards a crying woman near the Seine, wearing a wedding dress. It landed on her headpiece.

"Enchanttréx, I am Hawkmoth. You've been betrayed by the person your loved one, I'm giving you the power to expose any secrets that were chosen to be hidden away from the world. In return, you will bring me ladybug and Chat Noir's Miraculous. Do we have a deal?"

"Yes, Hawkmoth."

The purple substance covered the woman in a wedding dress, and when it was gone it left a woman, who has an intricate gold flower-themed headpiece, long black hair that reaches up to her mid-back, a flowy white to black gradient dress, gold strapped heels, white laced gloves that reach up to her forearm and a veil in front of her face.

"It's time to let yourself free from your secrets!" Enchanttréx exclaimed making the nearby Parisians run away in fear and alerting the heroes.

Chapter 5 — Moving Forward: Masterlist — Chapter 7 

[an-obsessed-writer]

Mind Over Matter

Summary: Everyone knew the Baron Helmut Zemo, you’d have to be living under a rock to not recognize the name of the ridiculously wealthy royal attending your university. He was the school’s top bachelor, a sophisticated and confident man who obviously was wealthy. That was enough to make any woman at the university swoon, but he was always known to never keep a girl for long. What happens when (Y/N) finds herself meeting him at one of his parties?

(A/N): i think i’ll turn this into a series, but not sure yet! im a whore for zemo rn as everyone is, let me know if you’re interested in reading more <3

Word Count: 2.2k

“(Y/N)!” Wanda plops onto your bed after she runs into the dorm, and smiles sweetly up at you. “Wanna go to a party tonight? Word has it that Zemo is throwing a major bash for the new school year.”

Everyone knew the Baron Helmut Zemo, you’d have to be living under a rock to not recognize the name of the ridiculously wealthy royal attending your university. He was the school’s top bachelor, a sophisticated and confident man who obviously was wealthy. That was enough to make any woman at the university swoon, but he was always known to never keep a girl for long. Fortunately, you didn’t live under a rock, just too immersed in your studies to care much about him. You’ve seen him walking on campus before, with his fur coat and maroon mock turtleneck, and you could see why he was such a popular man. It’s known that Europeans always have the best sense of style.

“I’ve already got a major essay to finish for my philosophy class next week, maybe next time?” You frown at your roommate, feigning sadness that you wouldn’t be able to make it, but by the look of her face, she wasn’t going to let you get out of this one.

“You promised you’d attend a party this year! We’re juniors and you’ve been to only a handful. Besides, his parties are super classy, everyone gets all dressed up. It’ll be fun, I swear.” Wanda looks up at you with pleading eyes, and you couldn’t help but think about the opportunity presented.

It was true, you hadn’t been to many parties since college started. Your grades were stellar, your reputation even more so. Studying as a pre-med was no joke, resulting in your non-existent social life, but you honestly didn’t mind it much. You kept your head down because college was expensive enough as it is, you couldn’t afford to get distracted. Closing the laptop on your lap, a sigh escapes your mouth, and Wanda took it as a silent submission for what she had planned.

“Perfect! It’s tonight at his mansion. Who knows? Maybe you’ll be able to get him wrapped around your finger by the end of the night,” she winked and immediately began rummaging through her closet for the perfect outfit. “I heard the theme was the 20’s, I’ve always loved the flapper girl outfits.” A laugh escaped from Wanda’s lips, and a mischievous smile was displayed on her face. 

If there was anyone you trusted at this place, it’d be Wanda Maximoff. Her brother Pietro came as a close second, but she’d been your rock throughout your educational journey. Everyone loved her, everyone wanted her at their parties, but she chose to stay in with you to watch movies and talk about guys on more than one occasion. Coming from Sokovia, Wanda and Zemo talked often because of their love for the Sokovian language, but nothing romantic ever stemmed from their interactions with each other.

Truth be told, you were a pretty girl. This never went unnoticed by the guys around you, leading to a few regretful hookups. Your confidence oozed from your cheeky smile and subtly flirtatious comments when appropriate, but you were adamant on not entering a relationship until school was over. However, you were the realist out of this duo, and you knew for a fact you’d never be able to pull a guy like Helmut Zemo. With his looks and amount of money, he could get the most sought after movie star (which everyone was fairly sure he hooked up with Megan Fox at one point, but that was just a rumor).

“Do you still have your flapper girl costume from Halloween a while ago? I’ve got mine, and I don’t think we have enough time to shop before the party,” Wanda inquired.

“Of course I do, it’s my go to Halloween costume now if I ever go out again.” You smiled, reminiscing over the memories from last Halloween, and stumbled off your bed to find the outfit. 

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

The music was blasting, and you couldn’t help but look in awe of your surroundings. A double curved staircase with red carpeting was in front of you and Wanda, with grand railings connected to the marble floor below. The home was obnoxiously large, you could talk and an echo would rumble through the room. 

Wanda gives you an encouraging look, and grabs your hand to lead you towards the party room upstairs. The silver tassels from your mini dress rubbed against your dress with every step you took, and you knew there was no turning back now. Besides, there was no way you could leave this beautiful home anytime soon, you simply wanted to drink in it’s beauty forever.

Once upstairs, a man in a suit smiled at the two of you, and asked for your invitations, which Wanda gladly handed over. With a nod, he opened the doors that were taller than any of you, and the sight immediately took your breath away.

White, translucent balloons hung from the ceiling. Art deco inspired tables with feathers and gold tassels lining over them containing copious amounts of alcohol were in the middle of the room. Intricate white and golden wallpaper covered the walls, which helped bring everything together, but the flashing disco lights allowed a modern feel to this 1920’s inspired party.

Not too long after entering the room, Vision strutted over to the two of you after catching sight of his girlfriend. “Hello (Y/N),” he flashed a quick smile to you and placed a kiss on Wanda’s cheek, “Care if I steal my girlfriend away for a dance?”

“No problem at all,” you waved your hand to dismiss the two of them, and Wanda went off to the dance floor with her love. 

This was normal, Wanda would be whisked away by Vision, and you typically found a guy to bring you attention for the night, but something felt different. Right now, all you wanted was a drink, and you found yourself making a beeline towards the tables full of alcohol. 

The bartender was dressed in one of the finest suits, and you couldn’t help but wonder “If his employees are dressed like this, what was the Baron wearing?”

“What would you like?” Your mind blanked trying to think of alcohol that you liked, it’s been too long.

“Surprise me, it’s been a while.” You smiled sheepishly, but your attention was caught by the feeling of another person behind you.

“That won’t do, you look like you need something strong.” A thick, European accent filled your ears, and you couldn’t help the way that your body tensed up. With a turn of your head, your eyesight took hold of the one and only, Helmut Zemo.

He looked even more delicious standing so close to you. As expected, Zemo didn’t mess around with his looks. A burgundy, pinstripe suit hugged his figure, and you couldn’t help but take note of the way his arms looked under the tight sleeves.

“Something strong would be nice,” you say holding your chin up, not wanting to embarrass yourself in front of the most well known man in the school. With a wave of his finger and a command in a language you didn’t know, two shots of clear liquid were slammed on the table, and Zemo picked one up with a cheeky smile.

You narrowed your eyes at him and nervously picked up the shot glass with shaky hands. Lifting it up to your nose, your face contorted into an expression of disgust at the smell of acetone. “What is this?”

With a rumbling chuckle from Zemo, your cheeks blushed slightly, silently scolding yourself for losing your composure. He raised his glass and with a tilt of his head, he responded “Rakija, essentially European moonshine. I’ll take a shot with you, it can be too strong for some Americans.”

Silently, you nodded and raised the shot glass, mimicking his actions. Once he swiftly threw back the liquid into his mouth, you followed, and immediately wanted to gag. It burned as it went down your throat, the taste of pure chemicals became overwhelming, and you managed to keep a straight face through it all. Zemo slammed his glass back onto the table and took a step towards you in order to be able to communicate over the loud music.

“I apologize for being such a rude host, but I don’t recognize you.” The smell of rich cologne flooded your nostrils, and you could’ve melted right there. His eyes peered down onto you, being that you were significantly shorter than the man towering over your body, and you licked your lips.

“I usually stay in my dorm, I’m pre-med.” You held your hand out politely, “(Y/N).”

Zemo’s rough hands took hold of your own, lowering his head to leave a kiss on the indents of your knuckles. Without standing up straight, he raises his eyes to look at you through his eyebrows, “It’s a pleasure to meet you (Y/N), I hope you’re enjoying the party.”

His voice was like smooth caramel and melted chocolate, just the right mix of salty and sweet. His thick accent burned into your head with the way he said your name, and your hand was tingling from where his lips met your knuckles. After hearing the stories of his charming ways, you wanted to call bullshit, but experiencing this first hand was completely different. There was some truth to the rumors of the mysterious Baron, and you couldn’t help but feel drawn to find out more. The man simply oozed sex appeal.

“I actually just got here with Wanda. She’s off somewhere with Vision.” You were proud of how you managed to keep your voice at a steady level, knowing that your mind was going crazy with how close the two of you were.

Zemo’s eyebrow perked up at the mention of Wanda’s name and held out his hand with the corners of his mouth turning up ever so slightly, “Any friend of Wanda’s is a friend of mine, care to dance (Y/N)?”

Every fiber of your being wanted you to run, knowing that if you went to dance with him, there was no turning back. Still, you couldn’t stop your hand from being placed into his, and he swiftly pulled you along towards the dance floor. 

Sweaty bodies surrounded the two of you, but you could only focus on his eyes engulfing the way the dress hugged your body in all the right spots. He placed his hand on the small of your back where the dress was open, the touch sending shivers down your spine. The Baron’s hands were warm, completely contrasting the iciness of your skin. 

With another hand on your waist and a smirk, he began moving his hips, which you soon followed. As the song went on, the distance between you got smaller and smaller, until your chest was practically smushed against his. You lifted your left hand to run through his chestnut brown hair, and it was as soft as you expected it to be.

“Of course it is,” you thought to yourself. “A Baron deserves only the most expensive products.”

“You’d think I would know everyone on campus, but your beauty caught me by surprise.” His breath felt hot against your ear, and you swallowed thickly.

“Not many people know me,” you countered.

“What a shame, isn’t it darling?” The use of pet names was enough to make your knees buckle, especially when paired with the Sokovian drawl, but you shook your head in defiance.

“He probably says that to all the girls.” Even so, you wished your mind would be quiet so you could appreciate this moment for what it is. The chance to dance with the bachelor everyone was pining for, but he was only paying attention to you.

You didn’t respond, only picking up the pace of your swaying hips, grinding against his thigh. Zemo exhaled a quick breath, and wasted no time to smash his lips onto yours. This action sent electricity through your body, the taste of the alcohol on his breath only made him more alluring, and your mouth copied his movements. Teeth clacked against one another, but neither of you cared. The only thing you could think about was the feeling of his fingers trailing down your back, and the way you fit with him like a lost puzzle piece.

Zemo grabbed at the nape of your neck, signaling to deepen the kiss with a tightening grip and a nip at your bottom lip, but you pulled away before you did something you regret.

With a confused look, Zemo licked his lips. “Care to go upstairs to my room?”

“Actually,” you say breathlessly, “I think it’s better if I head out.” Regretfully, you untangle your bodies and take a step back from the powerful man standing in front of you.

Without taking a second to think about what you’ve just done, you turn and make your way to the exit, but not without glancing at the Baron one last time. 

His eyes never left you, and he stood still as you walked through the doors.

[atlafan]

a/n: A couple of weeks ago I saw a post about ex’s to lovers, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. So basically it’s a story about two people who ended things on a semi-good note, like nothing inherently bad happened between them, but they decided to break up. Sometimes people find their way back to each other, though. That’s what we have here. Harry is a tax attorney, a few years older than our MC, Blair Smith, who teaches jazzercise. (not proofread) PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU READ THIS AND LIKE IT, YALL WANTED ME TO KEEP POSTING FICS ON HERE, SO HERE YOU GO! PLEASE, IT TAKES TWO SECONDS! Check out my patreon for other excursive content.

Warnings: angst, fluff, smut (sub!Harry????), mentions of death, a funeral

Words: 17.8K

Pairing: Harry x OC (Blair Smith)

When Blair Smith became a Physical Education major in college, she never thought that would lead her to leasing a dance studio, and teaching jazzercise. It took her until she was twenty-five to really get it all together. She wasn’t mad about it, she actually enjoyed it more than she thought. She double minored in Dance and in Business Administration, she had never been so thankful to have overloaded herself in her life. She thought she would be teaching gym at the high school level, along with some health and nutrition classes, but when she did her practicum semester at a local high school near her college, she realized that working with younger students was not for her. None of them listened, none of them really wanted to be there, aside from the gym-class-heroes, and she couldn’t stand that the majority wouldn’t even change their clothes for class.

Blair wanted to make her own rules. Luckily, after presenting a well-thought-out business plan to her parents, she was able to get them to co-sign for a loan from the bank to lease a dance studio. She named her studio Just Dance because she offered different types and levels of jazzercise. Some involved use of weights, some involved a little more high intensity, and some involved a little yoga. She was grateful for the couple of marketing classes she took because she was able to really build her brand. She had an Instagram, Facebook Page, and a website. She had an online way to sign up for memberships, and she had daily drop-in prices.

It was easier than she thought to build her clientele. She had a great spot in the city, and there was a small parking lot out back behind the building. Most of her friends from school signed up, and helped her advertise. It was open to men and women, as opposed to a lot of jazzercise places that only offered classes to women. Even though Blair couldn’t afford to hire a second instructor, she was managing things just fine. She offered two early morning sessions, one lunch hour session, and three evening sessions. So, she had plenty of time to relax, stretch, and not over work her muscles. She was strategic about class offerings as well. She gave herself Sundays and Fridays off, since those seemed to be the days with the least amount of people signed up. Monday through Thursday, and Saturday, she made sure to stagger her lessons. For example, Mondays and Wednesdays were weights and yoga infused classes, Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays were the high intensity days. Going into her fourth year doing this, she had it down to a science to say the least.

Business was always really good in January and February, when people were making their New Year’s resolutions, and during the summer months when people were trying to feel better about being in their bathing suits. Blair always preached positivity and inner health as the most important things. It was an inclusive space, which is exactly what she wanted it to be.

She liked working for herself. If she needed to run errands between classes, she could. If she wanted to take a nap in the middle of the day, she could. She didn’t have to answer to a single person. Her parents would sometimes ask questions, but mostly just to make sure Blair was making her loan payments on time. She had automatic withdrawals set up with the bank, so she didn’t even need to think about it. Yup, Blair had just about everything figured out, and she knew she was very lucky for that.

//

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Sullivan, we’ll get everything figured out for your son. Yes, he’s in very good hands with me. Alright, have a nice evening.” Harry hangs up his phone and sighs, rubbing at his temples to soothe the oncoming headache he could feel. It was another complicated trust fund case, but that was the job.

The Law Office of Styles and Associates was a tax attorney office. Harry specialized in cases that dealt with trusts, gifts, and various tax planning structures to reduce the burdens of income taxes and estate taxes, and he assisted in devising investment strategies. His undergraduate degree was in accounting, and he minored in pre-law. After that, he went to law school for three years and passed the bar. His father had been a tax attorney as well. Harry liked living the comfortable life he was able to live growing up thanks to his father, and he wanted the same for himself. Plus, he just enjoyed crunching numbers for people, so it was a win-win. Making nearly $150K a year wasn’t too shabby either.

“Hey, H, you ready to go?” John comes into Harry’s office.

“Yeah, just finished up for the day.” Harry stands up, puts his suit jacket back on, grabs his brief case, and heads out. “Kate, feel free to head home, I’m done for the day.” He tells his secretary on his way out.

“Thank you, Mr. Styles, have a nice weekend.” She smiles at him.

“Same to you.” He nods and keeps walking with John. “I feel terrible, she’s pregnant, you know? Her feet are the size of melons by the end of the day.”

“When’s her maternity leave start?” John asks as they enter the elevator.

“Not for a while, she’s only seven months along. She’s been trying to train some college intern to take her place while she’s gone, but no one’s as good as Kate.” Harry rolls her eyes. “Oh well, I’m happy for her. Her and husband have been trying to get pregnant for a while.”

Harry and John make their way to a bar downtown, one of their usual Friday evening spots. They usually met up with some of their other law-school buddies. It was also a great way to blow off steam from the week. Sometimes Harry would end up pulling a 60-hour week, so he thought he deserved to cut loose, and have a little fun with his friends. Maybe meet a pretty girl he could take back to her place and have a whole different kind of fun with her. Harry was a phenomenal attorney, but when it came to his personal life, well, if you looked up the definition of a playboy, his picture would be there. He fucked around, a lot, without a second thought. Actually, his only thought was to make sure he always had a condom. Harry never went bare back. The last thing he needed was someone claiming he was the father of their child, and suing him for child support. The only time he didn’t use a condom was when he was in a legitimate relationship a couple of years back.

He thought about her from time to time. He never met another girl like her, and there were times he really did miss her. The breakup wasn’t anything dramatic, the pair had just grown apart. Harry was in the process of taking over the practice for his father, and she…wasn’t quite ready to settle down. She wanted to work on her own career and make a name for herself. It hurt that she didn’t see him in her vision for the future, but he understood where she was coming from. She was a few years younger than him, and he didn’t want her to resent him for taking away her time to be young and have fun. So they ended it. Since her, he decided to have some fun himself with his friends.

//

Blair got the call right before her second morning class on Wednesday morning. She nearly collapsed on the floor in tears. Everyone rushed over to her. She had to cancel everything for the rest of the week, and her clients were more than understanding.

“How did it happen?” She asks her mother, Pam.

“He had a stroke, and…god, he just didn’t bounce back.” Pam uses a hankie to wipe her tears. “Most of everything should be all set, he was very specific, but…we’re going to need an attorney. Your father’s biggest fear is that his first wife would claim that she has a right to his pension, that she was promised money or something.”

“God, I hate her.” Blair grimaces. “All she’s ever cared about is making him miserable. She just wants money for her son. He’s not even Dad’s!”

“That’s why they got divorced! She cheated on him with his best friend and got knocked up. You can see how sticky this is going to get. I hate to ask, but…”

“I’ll go see him.” Blair sighs.

“I just think he might sympathize, maybe work the case pro bono. I’m not sure we could afford him otherwise.”

“Don’t worry about it, Mum, I’ll talk to him and figure it out. I’m not going to let Lora fuck everything up for you.”

//

Kate nearly choked on her water when she saw Blair walking towards her. She knew Harry had a meeting with a B. Smith. She should have known better.

“B-Blair, hi.” Kate says.

“Kate! Oh my goodness, you look incredible! You and Roger finally-“

“Yeah! I’m due in a couple more months.”

“That’s amazing, I’m so happy for you.” Blair smiles. “Um, I think I set up a meeting through an intern?”

“Yes.” Kate sighs. “I’m training her for when I go on maternity leave. Um, may I ask why you’re here to see Harry?”

“It’s strictly business. My…my father recently passed, and-“

“I’m so sorry.” Kate frowns. “He was always so nice.”

“Yeah, he was a good guy. Anyways, there’s a lot going on with his will and a trust he set up for my mom. Harry’s the only person I could think of when my mom said we’d need an attorney.”

“Of course.” Kate nods. “I’ll let him know you’re here.” Kate knocks on Harry’s door and opens it. “Mr. Styles?”

“Yes?”

“Your 2PM is here.”

“Ah, great.” Harry squints at his screen to check his calendar. “B. Smith? Why does that sound familiar?” He puckers his lips in thought.

“Um…it’s Blair.”

“Blair!” Harry stands up and bangs his knee in the process. “Why didn’t you tell me she was coming?!”

“I didn’t know! Maura answered when she called to set up the appointment.”

“Fuck.” Harry runs a hand through his hair. “How do I look? Is there anything in my teeth?”

“No, you’re fine. Just relax, I’m going to send her in.” Kate leaves his office and smiles at Blair. “He’s ready for you.”

“Thank you, Kate. We should catch up before the baby comes.”

“I’d like that. I miss going to your classes.”

Blair nods and goes into Harry’s office, closing the door behind her.

“Hi, Harry.”

“Hi.” He walks over to her, leaving about a foot of space between them. “To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you?” Her bottom lip trembles, and his smile fades. “What’s wrong?” He asks softly.

“M…my Dad died.” She says, tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Oh, sweetheart.” He pulls her in for a hug so he can comfort her. “When’s the funeral? You know you could have just called me, you didn’t have to be so formal.”

“Actually, I did.” She sniffles and steps back from him. “I need an attorney, my mom and I do…only…we can’t really afford a good one.”

“Oh.” Harry nods. “Have a seat.” He gestures, and rounds his desk to sit back down in his own seat. “Is this about his ex-wife?”

“Unfortunately.” Blair rolls her eyes, and grabs a tissue off his desk. “My mom is scared she’s going to pull some fake paternity crap with her son, even though everyone knows he’s not my Dad’s. I think my mom just wants to be prepared for the inevitable shit storm Lora’s going to bring.”

“I don’t blame her.” Harry sighs and leans back in his chair. “I…haven’t taken a pro bono case yet this year. I could help that way.”

“Only if you really want to. I’m not asking for a handout, but I don’t trust anyone else to take care of me.” Blair blinks when she realizes what she’s said. “Us, I don’t trust anyone else to take care of us.”

“Right.” He leans forward. “I’d be happy to do it. Um, does your mom want to meet with me, or-“

“I think she’s sort of hoping I’ll take care of all the legal stuff. She’s grieving, you know?”

“So are you.” He frowns.

“You know me, I like to keep busy during these sorts of things. I can get a copy of the will, and the trust information over to you via email if that works, and then we can go from there?”

“Sure, yeah. My email’s still the same, um, and so is my phone number…”

“I still have your phone number.” She rolls her eyes.

“Then why didn’t you call me about this first? Why call and make an appointment?”

“I…I thought if I called…you’d think I was calling for something else.” She blushes. “I wanted you to know it was strictly business.”

“Blair, all you had to say was that your dad died. I could have been there for you. You live alone, all you do is work…your best friend is my cousin…do you and Riley even still talk?”

“Of course we do! Just because we broke up doesn’t mean that she and I did. I met you because of her, I was her friend first. It would be really shitty to stop talking to her because it didn’t work out with you.”

“Okay, Christ, calm down.” He shakes his head. “You’re as hot headed as ever, you know that?”

“I’m sorry, my father just died and I’m trying to keep it together!” Her eyes rim with tears again. “He’s never going to be able to walk down the aisle when I get married, he’s never going to meet his grandchildren, there are so many things…he was too young.” She sniffles.

“How did it happen?”

“He had a stroke, and didn’t recover.” She looks away.

“I’m so sorry.”

“I appreciate that, but that’s not going to being him back, so don’t be sorry. Just…help me with this.”

“I will, there’s no question about it.”

“Thank you, Harry.” She stands up. “I’ll email you.”

“Blair.” Harry stands up. “Look, if you need anything else, don’t be afraid to ask. If you need a friend…I’m here for you.”

“I have plenty of friends.” She sighs. “And no offense, but my friends don’t fuck a ton of women weekend after weekend and treat them like shit.” She smirks.

“I don’t do that.” His face flushes. “I just haven’t met someone I’ve really wanted to continue seeing, that’s all.”

“Harry.” Blair shakes her head as she chuckles. “Not that I ask, but Riley’s told me a few things. You two are close, and when she gets drunk she loves regaling me of your many escapades.”

“I’ll have to send her a very strongly worded text after you leave.” He rolls his eyes.

“Don’t get mad at her, it’s fine. I don’t really care.”

“You don’t?”

“No, why would I? It’s not me you’re fucking, so it doesn’t concern me.” She shrugs. “That’s the beauty of breaking up, Har, I don’t give a shit where you stick your dick at night.”

“Well, obviously you do if you won’t even let me be a friend to you, Blair.”

“I just…I don’t want us getting close again, alright? It’ll hurt when we end up parting way, and I don’t wanna go through that while also grieving my Dad. Can you understand that?”

“Yeah.” He nods. “Don’t worry, we’ll get this all sorted out.” He smiles at her.

“Thank you. I need to go. I told my mom I’d be over to help her pack some things up. She sort of just wants to rip the band aid and put his clothes away.”

“If you need any help at all with any heavy lifting, call me.”

“Harry.” Blair sighs.

“I’ve got that nice SUV, I can help move stuff, that’s all I’m saying.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. I’ll talk to you soon.” She says, and out the door she goes. Kate waits a moment before coming into Harry’s office.

“Scotch?” Kate asks.

“Scotch.” Harry nods, and Kate goes over to his credenza to take out his good crystal and liquor to pour him a small glass.

“You’ll get through this.” She lifts her water bottle to cheers with him, and he downs the brown liquid.

//

Blair was back at work the following week. She needed the distraction. Lora had been eerily quiet. Maybe she didn’t know that Blair’s father passed, but as soon as the obituary hit the papers, she was sure that witch would be out and about to cause some trouble. At the end of Blair’s last Thursday class, she heard the sound of dress shoes on the hard wood. She turns to see Harry.

“You know there’s not supposed to be outside shoes in here. I just mopped.” She puts her hands on her hips and huffs at him.

“Yeah, I’m well aware of the rules. I used to be your best customer, remember?” He smirks. “Anyways, I looked over all the documents, I thought you might like to go over everything with me before the funeral, in case she shows up to cause trouble, you’ll have all the facts.”

“I need to, like, go home and shower…today was an intensive day, I’m soaked.”

“Perfect, I’ve got dinner in the car. We can go there, eat, and go over the documents.” He smiles.

“You’re such a weasel.” She chuckles. “But I’m too tired to argue with you. What did you pick up to eat?” She raises an eyebrow at him.

“Nothing special.” He shrugs. “Just some dumpling curry from that Thai place we both like.”

“I take it back you’re not a weasel, you’re the devil.”

Harry drives over to Blair’s apartment. He didn’t have a key anymore so he had to wait for her. He follows her up to her apartment, and makes himself at home while she goes to take a shower. She hadn’t changed much, but he definitely noticed some different pictures on her bookshelves. They used to be littered with framed photos of them, and she had a ton of scrapbooks for the two of them, but those seemed to be missing now as well. He sighs while he plates up the food for the both of them, and opens up a bottle of wine while he waits. Blair comes out about ten minutes later with her hair wrapped up in a towel, and her long, plush, pink robe around her body. She sits down next to him at the island.

“Wine?” She questions, but picks up the glass to take a sip.

“It’s been a long day, to be honest with you. I’m gonna work from home to catch up on some sleep tomorrow since I don’t have any meetings.”

“You know I have Fridays off, we could have done this tomorrow.” She frowns.

“It’s okay, I figured you’d want everything now. The funeral’s Saturday, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Eat up, and then we can look at everything.”

“We can do both at the same time.”

“Does your nose still run like a leaky faucet when you eat spicy food?” He smirks, and she rolls her eyes. “That’s what I thought.”

“Thank you for picking this up.” She says as she takes a bite. “I haven’t had this in forever.”

“Me neither…I stopped going because I didn’t want to run into you there.”

“That’s why I stopped going. We should have divided up restaurants when we broke up.” She laughs, and takes another sip of wine. “Do you mind if I dry my hair when we’re done eating? I’ll get a-“

“You’ll get a headache if you don’t, I know the drill.” He takes a sip of his own wine, and eats a spoonful of rice.

“Stop remembering things about me.” She swats a hand at him.

“We were together for long enough, Blair, I can’t help it.”

“Yeah, well, quit throwing it in my face, okay? We’re not doing this to go for a stroll down memory lane.”

Harry knew he’d be waiting at least twenty minutes while Blair dried her hair. He walks around her living room, stretching his legs a bit. He was curious to see what she had filled her bookshelves with. There was a picture of her and Riley from their freshman year of college. Harry picks it up and smiles. Harry was in his first year of law-school when Riley and Blair were college freshmen. He didn’t meet Blair formally until their senior year, and he was in his first year working at his father’s firm. He was helping Riley move in after winter break, and Blair had already been there.

“Blair!” Riley exclaimed. “I missed you so much.” She threw her arms around her.

“I missed you too! I’m glad we both agreed to come back a week early.”

“Same here. This is my cousin, Harry. Harry, this is Blair.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Harry shook Blair’s hand.

“It’s nice to meet you too.” Her mouth had run dry. They held eye contact for a beat too long. “You’re in law school, right?”

“I finished last year, I’m actually working now. I’m a tax attorney.” He explains. “It’s my dad’s business.”

“And it’s super boring.” Riley rolled her eyes. “Har, could you bring everything in for me? I have a meeting with my advisor that I need to get to. We’re going over my practicum stuff.”

“Sure thing. We’re still getting dinner later, right?”

“Mhm, I shouldn’t be too long. Blair, you don’t mind if Harry hangs here for a bit, do you? You’re also welcome to come to dinner with us.”

“Sure, I don’t have a problem with it.” She shrugged.

“You’re the best. See you in a little while!”

“Is there a lot of stuff? I can help.” Blair said to Harry.

“Not a lot, no. But…I’ve never been here before, so if you could just show me upstairs, that would be great.”

“Yeah.” She nodded.

Harry brought Riley’s suitcase in, and Blair led him upstairs. She showed him Riley’s room.

“Is yours similar?” He asked.

“My room? Um, no…it’s a little different.” She swallowed. “Do you wanna see?”

“I’d love to.” He grinned, and followed her down the hall to her room. “Riley’s told me a lot about you over the years, but she failed to mention how insanely gorgeous you are.” He leaned against her wall after she closed her door.

“Well, she failed to mention how hot her cousin is, but I suppose that would be a weird thing to say about a family member.” She smirked. “How old are you, exactly?’

“I’m about to turn twenty-six, what about you?”

“I’m almost twenty-two…in May.”

“Not a huge age difference.” He walked towards her.

“Not at all.” She looked up at him with big eyes.

“Want me to kiss you?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, all done.” Blair says, coming out with her all dry and pretty. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing, just saw this old picture of you and Riley.”

“God, we were babies then.” Blair smiles at the photo. “We took that on the day we met at orientation.” She looks at him. “Wanna sit on the couch?”

“Sure.” Harry grabs his briefcase and takes out all of the documents he needed to go over with Blair. “So, as you can see, your father set up a trust for you that you’ll get access to a year after his passing. That’s pretty standard. Your mother has a different sum of money that she’ll be able to access much sooner. There’s absolutely nothing in his will about Lora or her son. Even if she tries to contest it, there’s nothing in here that would indicate he was hiding anything. I looked over their divorce settlement as well, she stopped getting alimony when she remarried. She literally has no case. You and your mum can take a breather.”

“Oh, what a relief! Thank you, Harry. She’ll be able to let herself relax for the first time in a while.”

“Are you going to take any more time off from work?”

“Well, I’m closed Saturday, and I’m off Sunday, and I’m closed Monday as well. Then I’ll be back to it Tuesday.”

“You’re only giving yourself a long weekend?” He frowns.

“Harry, I can’t afford to keep closing. I make enough with the memberships, but I won’t be making the extra I do from the walk-ins.”

“Look, if you need some money-“

“Don’t you dare.” She stands up. “I don’t want your money, Harry, I never have, and I never will. I’m not your goddamn sugar baby!”

“I never said you were!” He says, standing up.

“But you used to make me feel like that all the time! You were always paying for every little thing. You never let me pay for a single thing. It was like you had zero confidence in me, even though I was running a successful business!”

“You were just starting out! All I wanted to do was help you, make it a little easier for you. You’re the one that went to their parents for loan help when I would have done it in a heartbeat! You crushed me.”

“We weren’t even living together, and you were ready to drop that amount of money on me?! That would have been so weird!”

“We were both working odd hours, and we had only been together a few months at that point, moving in would have been weird! A loan is totally different, I would have been investing in something great.”

“Well, I didn’t need your investment! We were together for nearly three years, Harry, what’s your excuse for not living together after all that time, hm?”

“I would have felt guilty. I was never home, I didn’t want you waiting up for me. It was easier when I could just come here and crawl into bed with you after a long day. And you always had to get up so much earlier than me. I thought…I thought it was better that we weren’t living together. You had never lived alone before, I wanted you to enjoy the freedom.”

“Was that it, or did you just want to keep your own?” She huffs, crossing her arms. “You know what, this fight is useless, it doesn’t matter because it’s not going to solve a single fucking thing. Thank you for your help, I really do appreciate it, but now that I know everything’s fine, you can go. If I need anything else from you down the line, I’ll reach out. I’m sure Lora will make a stink, and therefore I’ll need an attorney. But it’s all professional, Harry.”

“You’ve made that plenty clear already, thanks.” Harry packs up his things, and Blair walks him to the door. They look at each other. He just sighs and heads out the door.

Blair would be lying if she said that she didn’t miss Harry. They had a really special bond that was hard to find with just any one. All they did that first day they met was kiss, have a passionate make out, but that was it. Blair didn’t want to go too far with him in case Riley wasn’t comfortable with it. But Riley was overjoyed when Harry asked if she would mind if he asked Blair out on a date. It was a whirlwind from there.

He took her on some of the nicest dates she had ever been on. Most guys would take her out for coffee, maybe a movie if they could scrape the money together, but Harry took Blair out to nice restaurants, and to the movies that had lux levels. Not to mention his condo, god, she loved his condo. He liked that she kept things simple. Crockpot dinners at her place, watching TV curled up in her little full-sized bed, and clipping coupons together on Sunday mornings. That was where they had sex for the first time, in her little bed after their fifth date. He told her he loved her for the first time on the top of a Farris Wheel during the spring carnival her campus held, and she wasted no time saying it back. After that, a deeper trust formed between the two of them. One that not a lot of people would understand. Harry didn’t quite understand it himself since he was usually the one who was a little more dominant in bed, but with Blair…well, needless to say after a long week of working cases, his favorite thing was to come home, find her in his bedroom with some lingerie on, and letting her tie him to the bed posts for a little while. It was a release he didn’t even really know he needed. And with her, having been a college student about ready to graduate and enter the real world, it felt like so many things were out of control. Harry gave her that control back.

Harry wonders if that’s why they breakup seemed so much harder on him than her. It seemed like Blair was able to let go so easily. Yes, he started fucking around afterwards, but he just couldn’t get that same high from anyone else, nor did he trust some random girl at a bar to do the things for him that Blair once did. Blair was just better at hiding her emotions. She missed Harry, she’s missed him for a long time now. She cried for weeks, feeling this undeniable ache in her heart without him around. But, she had her studio to throw herself into, a brand to keep building. It was the perfect distraction, and even though she missed Harry, she didn’t hate being single for the first time in a while. For three years, Harry had been like her security blanket. The way she looked at it, every kid eventually stops sleeping with their security blanket at some point. It was time to be independent.  

//

The funeral was a graveside service. It was cloudy, but there wasn’t rain, which was probably the only upside Blair could think of. She was there, sitting next to her mother, other family members in the row behind them. Her mother was holding Blair’s hand, but this is one the few times Blair wished someone was there for her. Just as the service was about to get started, someone sat down next to her. She looks to her right and sees Harry, dressed in black from head to toe. He doesn’t say anything, he just puts his arm around her, and rubs his shoulder. He gives Blair’s mom a soft smile before sitting back in his seat.

“Harry…you weren’t supposed to come until afterwards…” Blair says.

“I know.” He looks at her. “I just wanted to be here for you.”

Harry gave Blair his extra tissues while she cried during the service. He held her the entire time, and stayed back once it was over. Then, he offered to drive Blair and Pam back to Pam’s home. Neither of them were in any condition to drive. There were a lot of people that came back to the house afterwards. Blair was able to calm down a bit, but her mother was really taking it hard.

“We don’t have to do this today.” Harry says to Blair.

“No, we should just rip the band aid. Then she can just…” Blair’s eyes widen when she sees Lora walk through the door. “Oh, you miserable cunt.” She says.

“What?” Harry asks, confused.

“Not you, Lora’s here.” Blair storms over to her. “What are you doing here?”

“Nice to see you too.” Lora smiles. “I’m here to grieve the loss of my first husband.”

“You weren’t at the funeral.”

“I didn’t want to upset anyone.” Lora shrugs. “So…have you read the will yet? I think I should be in on that.”

“Lora.” Pam says when she walks over. “Alright, let’s get this over with.” Pam sighs, and has everyone follow her down the hall to the guest bedroom. Harry takes out the paperwork.

“There’s been-“ He starts, but he’s cut off.

“I’m sorry, but how is it legal if her boyfriend is reading the will?” Lora asks.

“We’re not together anymore. We haven’t been for a while. He’s here as our attorney, that’s it.” Blair says.

“Anyways, been a trust set up for Blair a little down the road. Everything else, including the house, has been left to Pamela Smith. There is no mention of anyone else’s name.”

“That can’t be right.” Lora scoffs. “I was promised-“

“He would have never left you anything.” Pam says. “And I’m sick of dealing with you. He’s gone, he’s left you nothing, you have no ties to us now. It’s clear as day that Derek is not his. He owed you absolutely nothing, you gold digging bitch.” Pam steps closer to Lora. “Now, get out of my house before I have you removed. I buried my husband today, I am in no mood to be fucked with.”

“Fine.” Lora says, turns on her heel and leaves.

“Way to go, Mum.” Blair gives her a high five. “I thought she’d put up more of a fight than that.”

“With your father maybe, but not with me. I’ve ripped her cheap extensions out more than once, and she knows I’ll do it again.” She takes take a deep breath. “I think I’m about ready to be done for the day. I need to lay down.”

“Do you want me to stay tonight?” Blair asks her.

“No, honey, thank you. Auntie Fay is staying, I’ll be alright.” She looks at Harry. “Harry, I can’t thank you enough for helping with all of this.”

“Don’t mention it. If there’s anything else I can do, anything at all, don’t be afraid to ask.”

“Drive Blair home.”

“Mum.”

Pam raises her hands in defense and leaves the room.

“I can drive you back if you want. I took an uber out here as it was.” Harry says, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“You’ve done enough for me today, it’s alright…I can make it back on my own. Riley’s flying back in from Chicago tomorrow and we’re gonna have a girl’s day, so-“

“Blair, I still have your keys in my pocket, I’m driving you.”

“I don’t need you to swoop in here and act like superman, Harry.” Her bottom lip trembles. “I know my dad’s not around to do it anymore, but-“

“Hey.” He takes her in his arms. “I wish I could take it all away, I really do. I wish you weren’t going through all of this, baby.”

“Harry.” She sighs heavily into his chest.

“Sorry.” He rests his chin on the top of her head. “Some habits are hard to break I guess.”

“Have you called anyone else baby in the last year?” She nuzzles in close to him.

“No.” He tilts her chin up to look at him. “I never could.”

“Okay, you can drive me home.” She sighs. “I’m about ready to pass out as it is.”

Blair takes a few minutes to say goodbye to the people still at the house before her and Harry get into her car. He keeps the music volume low, and her eyes start to droop. Harry can’t help but feel soft and warm knowing she was so easily able to fall asleep with him there still. She’d always fall asleep on long car rides.

“Blair.” Harry says, trying to wake her up. “We’re at your place, love.” She groans at him, and he sighs. “Are you really going to make me carry you up?” She groans again and he rolls his eyes. Blair would always pretend to be asleep so Harry would carry her inside. He unbuckles her, gets out, and opens her door to lift her out. “You’re killing me.” He grunts as he carries her to the front door. He keys in, and carries her up the stairs to her door. “I know you’re awake.” He says as he brings her to her bedroom.

“Mm, but you’re so strong and warm.” She mumbles.

“Okay.” He chuckles and lays her on her bed. “Are your pj’s still in the third drawer of your dresser.”

“Harry.” She sits up. “You don’t have to do all that…”

“I was just gonna grab you a shirt and get out of your hair.” He says innocently.

“God, I’m so confused.” She pinches the bridge of her nose.

“About what?” He grabs a bed shirt for her, and sits on the edge of her bed.

“I think I’m just feeling vulnerable, I don’t know.” She looks away from him. “I don’t want you to go.” She mutters, and then looks at him. “But I also don’t want to get your hopes up.”

“If you need me to stay as a friend, I can do that.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’d never leave you like this.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I was just gonna pretend to leave, and then crash on your couch.”

“Well, you don’t have to do that. Got a queen sized bed now, plenty of room.”

“I can see that.” He smiles. “There was nothing wrong with your old bed. It was kinda fun when we were practically sleeping on top of each other.”

“Yeah, but your bed was better for…well…never mind.” She clears her throat. “Um, I still have some of your old pajama pants in my drawer, you can wear those if you want.”

“I’m good with just boxers if that’s alright with you.”

“Oh, um sure.” She gets off the bed to stand up. “I’m just gonna go wash up and change.”

Harry nods and gets undressed. He goes over to her bathroom door to wait his turn. Blair’s eyes widen when she sees him standing there in his underwear.

“You don’t have a spare toothbrush, do you?”

“Um, you can use one of the extra heads I have for my electric brush.”

“Thanks.” He steps into the bathroom as she leaves to go back to her bedroom.

“Oh my god.” She says to herself. He had beefed up a bit. Harry was already sort of beefy, but he used to be leaner. Had he been getting a lot of protein? She shakes her head as she crawls into bed. Harry comes in shortly after and gets in on the other side. She turns her head to look at him. “Thank you, Harry.”

“You don’t have to thank me.” He looks at her. “I’d be a pretty shitty person to leave you in a time like this.”

“Yeah, but you could be catching tail at some bar with your friends.” She smirks at him.

“You make me sound like I’m promiscuous or something.” He chuckles and turns fully on his side towards her. She does the same. “It’s a stress reliever, and I always wrap it up. M’not doing anything wrong.”

“Do you, um, do what we used to do with any of these hookups?”

“No.” He smirks. “No, I don’t think I could ever trust someone in that way again even if I tried.” He chews his bottom lip. “What about you?”

“Harry, to be honest with you…I haven’t slept with anyone since we broke up.”

“Blair, that was a year ago.”

“I’m well aware.” She rolls her eyes.

“That’s a long fucking dry spell.”

“It’s not a dry spell, it’s a personal choice. I threw myself into the studio, I worked on choreographing a ton of new dances. I was building my brand, bringing in more clientele. Plus…anytime I’d use a dating app or go out with Riley to a bar…no one was ever you.”

“I know things seemed mutual and we didn’t end in some big blow up…but I was so hurt that we couldn’t make things work.” He reaches to tuck some hair behind her ear. “I thought we were going to be together forever.”

“So did I…but I don’t know if I was ready for something so long-term yet, which I know sounds stupid because three years is a long time to be with someone.”

“It’s not stupid. I would have felt the same at that age. It was sort of selfish of me to try to lock you down the way I was.”

“You weren’t being selfish for wanting to be with me, Harry.”

“You know, the last thing I expected when I helped Riley move in that semester was falling in love with her roommate. You just looked so cute that day.”

“You remember how I looked when we first met?”

“How could I forget? You were wearing these sweater leggings that had snow flakes on them, and you were wearing this oversized sweater that was hanging off your shoulder, and you kept trying to tug it back on. You seemed so flustered around me.”

“I was.” She laughs. “I thought for sure you just wanted to fuck me and then leave with the way you pushed me up against the wall when you kissed me.”

“Yeah, you nearly shit yourself at dinner afterwards. Poor Riley had no idea I frenched you for a solid thirty minutes.”

“My lips were so swollen, she had to have known. I was more in shock when you came by a week later to ask me out. God, you were so cute, you were waiting outside my apartment with hot apple cider, and I had such a shit day at my practicum. I was in dingy sweats too, and you still told me I looked beautiful.”

“And I meant it.”

“Then you said I looked tired, and right before I went off on you, you pulled me inside and said that you were going to make me dinner so I could go upstairs and take a long hot shower.”

“Mhm, made you spaghetti and meatballs.”

“And that really yummy homemade garlic bread.” She smiles.

“Then we cuddled up and watched Ratatouille.” He chuckles.

“I was so mad that you had never seen it! And then you ended up loving it.”

“It’s a great movie, honestly.” He says, smiling at her. “Best first date ever.”

“Yeah, it was. When I went to sleep that night I couldn’t believe that a real man wanted to be with me. I don’t think any of the guys I dated in college knew how to cook.”

“Pretty sure I did a good job making you forget about any other guy you had ever been with.” He smirks, and she nudges his shoulder.

“Maybe…maybe when I’m in a better mindset…we could talk about…I mean…I’ve been thinking about you a lot ever since we started talking again, sorry, I’m rambling.” She sighs. “I don’t want you to think that I wanna give things another shot because you’ve been helping me and my mom, but it’s been hard not to think about it…especially after today.” She blinks away a few tears. “I wasn’t expecting you to come to the service. Riley felt awful that she couldn’t be there, and I felt so alone, even being with my mom. You’re so selfless.” She pouts at him.

“I would love to talk about potentially getting back together. I…I don’t think I realized how much I missed you until you walked into my office. I thought I was out having the time of my life, but I wasn’t. Nobody could ever compare to you.”

“I think I just need some time to make sure I’m not…I’m not just feeling this way because you’re being so sweet to me when no one else is.”

“Take all the time you need.” He strokes her cheek. “M’gonna turn over now. If you just so happen to feel like spooning me, I promise not to question it.”

“Please, snuggling sounds like the perfect medicine after today. Assume the position, Styles.”

He chuckles and rolls onto his other side. Blair slots a leg between his, and wraps her arm around his stomach. They both sigh, and wiggle closer to one another. Blair hadn’t felt peace like this in quite some time, and neither had Harry.

//

Blair woke up in a fog the next morning. Her eyes still felt puffy and swollen from crying, and even though the clock read 10AM, she felt like she could stay in bed for at least two more hours. She remembers Harry staying and falling asleep with her, but he wasn’t there next to her now. Where he laid was still warm, so he couldn’t have left too long ago. When she smells coffee, she wakes up a bit more. There was a coffee cup from Dunkin’ on her side table, along with a small bag that she knew had to be a coffee cake muffin. She sits up and sees a note next to the casual breakfast.

Had to rush off to the office this morning. Got a call that one of my major clients passed, and his family is already fighting over the money. Had to time to run out and get you brekkie though! I’ll call you later. – H

Blair pouts at the note, and takes a sip of her coffee, which had cooled down just enough for her to sip it without burning her tongue. She texts Harry a quick “thank you” before diving into her muffin. This was his signature “sorry for not being there when you wake up” breakfast treat. There had been many mornings Blair had woken up alone after spending the night with him. It wasn’t because Harry liked scooting out, he just usually got pulled away due to something work related, and he knew that Blair liked being able to sleep in when she could on the weekends, especially when she was still in school. She never minded because she knew he was busy. She used to just lounge around for an hour or so in his large bed before getting up and making it. Then she’d take an indulgent bath in his Jacuzzi-tub. He’d usually get back to her sometime in the afternoon, and they would snuggle up to watch a movie before he brought her back to her apartment. It worked for them.

There were plenty of times Blair had to scoot early as well. When she was doing her practicum, she needed to be at the high school no later than 7AM, which sucked because at the time she was a major night owl. It’s taken her years of discipline to get herself to fall asleep at a reasonable time so she wouldn’t be so groggy and grumpy in the morning. That was something that Harry helped with as well. He told her about this sleepy time playlist on Spotify that he would listen to on the nights he needed to go to bed early. Blair had told him she couldn’t afford the premium membership and she didn’t want to be jolted awake by ads. So what did Harry do? He bought the subscription plan that allowed for two people to be on it, helped her shift her account, and even though she protested, he insisted. The music sounded like something a masseuse would put on, and it always put her right to sleep. Harry was a genius, at least Blair thought so.

“How do you always have an answer for everything?” She had cried to him on a particularly stressful evening. It was after she graduated, and she had just gotten her business up and running. She felt overwhelmed and scared. “You always stay so calm, it’s like you don’t even care!”

“I just know that this’ll pass, baby. You just graduated from college, you’re going through a major life change. You’ve had the same routine all your life, and now it’s completely different. In a few months things won’t feel as scary.” He smiled at her, and wrapped his arms around her mid-section. “Went through the same thing myself not too long ago. I promise, it gets a lot better. Your early twenties fucking suck.”

“Yeah? How are things looking in the world of mid to late twenties?” She pouted up at him.

“Well,” he moved some hair away from her face, “I’ve got an incredible girlfriend who loves me, and I just so happen to love her, and I’m feeling settled in mt job, and I have a great place to live, and oh! Finally stopped having stress dreams about missing a big exam. Can’t complain too much.”

“I…I’m gonna be really busy at the studio. I have to choreograph all these dances, and start advertising, and-“

“Hey, I’ve got an idea.” He tugged her along down the hall to his home office.

“Harry, I’m not in the mood to fuck in your office…” She said, and Harry chuckled.

“As much as I love it when you let me bend you over my desk, that’s not what this is about.” He took her inside and took out a few sheets of blank paper and some pens. He sat down and pulled her into her lap. “Alright, this used to help me all the time when I was super stressed, still does, actually.” She watched as he drew three large circles, and wrote CHOREOGRAPHY in one, SOCIAL MEDIA, in another, and BUDGET

in the last. “Alright, so these are some rather large cookies, wouldn’t you say?” He looked up at her, and she looked down at him and nodded. “Okay, so what are some ways we can take little bites out of these?”

“Like a checklist for each?”

“Sort of, yeah.” He drew a few stems from each circle. “Almost like a backwards flow chart.”

“Is this what you do with your clients when they ask for financial advice?”

“Sometimes.” He nodded. “But more importantly, I want to help my girlfriend who is insanely frazzled. I hate when people try to be problem solvers…so hope you don’t think that’s what I’m trying to do…”

“No.” She shook her head. “This is great. I think if I have it all laid out in front of me…and can check certain things off…take smaller bites, like you said, I can handle things better.” She grabbed a pen and started writing, and making more stems, color coding a few of them. “My parents are gonna help cover the loan payments for the first year so I can save up, and start paying off my student loans.” She chewed her bottom lip. “And I can set aside some time in the mornings to do the social media stuff, and use the afternoons for choreography…evenings I can work on my website.”

“Just think of how sweet it’ll all taste by the time you finish.” He smiled up at her, and she leaned in to peck his lips.

“I love you, Harry, thank you.”

“I love you too, baby.” He kissed her again, ever so tenderly and soft. “Don’t let this stuff build up, you know you can talk to me about anything.”

“I just feel like my problems are so trivial, like, there are people that are starving, and I’m crying about being overwhelmed.”

“Your feelings are valid, don’t compare it to what someone else might be going through.”

“Do you think, um, could you just hold me for a bit?” It was so rare for Blair to be this vulnerable. Usually she was the one to hold Harry, but once in a while she just really needed him.

“Of course.” He shifted in his seat to cradle her to his chest. He was so warm and inviting, he always made Blair feel safe.

Blair sighs, and shakes herself from the memory. She couldn’t bask in the good times and act as if there weren’t also bad times. Although…there really weren’t that many bad times. She finishes up her muffin and gets out of bed. She grimaced when she saw herself in her bathroom mirror, and decided a long, hot shower would do her some good. She didn’t have the energy to wash her hair, so she grabs a scrunchie to put it up in a bun on the top of her head. As the warm water cascades over her body, she can’t help but continue to let her mind wander to other old memories.

“Harry! I told you I’d be five minutes.” Blair whispered to Harry as he entered the bathroom. He locked the door behind him and smirked. “Riley’s home! Just down the hall sleeping.” Harry pulled back the shower door, and walked into it with her. All he did was put a finger up to his lips.

“Then we’ll need to be quiet.” He whispered to her, ghosting his lips over hers.

“I…I’ve never had sex in the shower before. I always heard it wasn’t as cracked up as it looks in the movies.”

“That’s because people try too hard to do it full on.” He stepped into the water, getting his hair wet, and then moves her so she’s pressed up against the wall. He knelt in front of her, and looked up at her wet body. “Can I make you feel good, baby?”

“Y-yes.”

He grinned, and lifted one of her legs over his shoulder.

“Now, you need to stay quiet.” He pressed his lips to one of her hip bones, and kissed across her pelvis. “So, if it gets to be too much, just suck on your fingers or something, pull my hair, whatever you need to do.” She watched as his eyes darkened when he licked over her clit. His tongue moved to her slit and licked up. He moaned, letting his eyes flutter closed before looking back up at her. “You have no idea how fucking good you taste.”

“Blair!” Riley exclaims as she comes into the apartment. Blair’s taken from her thoughts just as she was whimpering out Harry’s name.

“I’m in the shower!” Blair yells back, and finishes cleaning herself up. She meets Riley out in the living room once she’s thrown some sweats on. “Hi.”

“Oh, god, I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there.” Riley wraps her arms around her friend.

“You couldn’t have known.” Blair hugs her back. “A month in Chicago, I can’t wait to hear all about it.” They let go of each other.

“Are you sure you wanna talk about all that?”

“Yeah, I need the distraction.”

“Alright. I brought coffee and doughnuts.” Riley smiles.

“Thank you, but I might save that for later. I had coffee and a muffin earlier…um, Harry spent the night last night.” Blair blushes as they both move to sit on the couch.

“Holy shit! Pleas don’t tell me you called him for a booty call.” Riley frowns.

“No, it was nothing like that. I told you he was helping with all of the legal stuff…he ended up coming to the funeral unannounced. He was there for me…he drove me home and I asked him to stay. We just slept, and he was gone before I woke up because of a work thing.”

“Ah, and he brought you the old comfort breakfast to make up for it.” Riley shakes her head. “Well, I’m glad he was there for you. I always hoped you would become friends at some point after you broke up.”

“I don’t think I realized how much I missed him. I’ve been so independent for the last year, it felt kind of nice to lean on him for a change.”

“Do you think you wanna get back together?”

“I don’t know…I was definitely feeling something yesterday, even this morning, but I don’t know if it’s because I’m just sad and vulnerable, or if it’s because I really wanna give it a second go. I don’t really know what would be different this time. He still works crazy hours, and-“

“He’s dialed back a lot.” Riley cuts him off. “Ever since he’s taken over, and once he really got settled into it, he hasn’t been working himself to the bone like he was. Are there still some sixty-hour weeks? Sometimes, but not like he was, I swear.”

“He didn’t seem to think we still spoke…so that made me think you weren’t as close with him…”

“I don’t hang out with him as much…I speak with his friend John quite a bit, though.” Riley blushes.

“Speak to or fuck?” Blair smirks.

“Don’t. If Harry knew I was messing around with one of his boys, god, I don’t even wanna think about it.”

“Oh, so he can go out with your friend, but you can’t go out with his?”

“John and I aren’t going out. We just…meet up to fuck sometimes, but we both still hookup with other people. I mean, I’m sure he slept with his share of people while I was away.”

“Did you?”

“There were a couple of people I let take me back to my hotel, yeah.” Riley nods. “Don’t say anything to Harry, okay?”

“Christ, I’m not his best friend all of a sudden. I think I was just emotional last night. I doubt we’ll even-“

There’s a jingle of keys, and then Harry’s entering the apartment. He freezes when he sees Riley.

“Hey! You’re back.” He smiles at his cousin. “How was Chicago?”

“Windy.” Riley says. “But fun, I made a ton of sales.”

“That’s great.” Harry sets the keys on the kitchen counter and then comes further into the living area. “How are you this morning?” He asks Blair.

“I’m okay, um, thanks for breakfast.”

“Yeah, of course, sorry I had to skip out. Uh, I just came back to see how you were, but I can see your girl’s day has started, so I’ll head out.”

“You can stay, Har, we were just gonna paint our nails, nothing you haven’t done with us before.” Riley says. “You don’t mind, right, Blair?”

“S-sure, you can stay, Harry…if you want to.”

“I’d love to stay.” He comes over and sits down on Blair’s other side. “Nothing like giving you a Styles sandwich to make you feel better.” He smirks. “Alright, Riles, what colors did you bring?”

The three ended up having a great day together. It felt like old times. They painted their nails, ordered Chinese, and watched Mystic Pizza. Riley was starting to get tired, so she left around six. The jet lag was catching up with her. So it was just Harry and Blair sitting on the couch watching Wall-E.

“Do you remember the first time we watched this?” Harry asks her a few minutes in.

“Mhm.” Blair smiles without looking at him. “It was that weekend we went away Hampton Beach, and it rained in the evening, so instead of being annoyed, we got all cozy and watched this.”

“After…” He looks at her, a smirk growing on his face.

“Harry.” She rolls her eyes.

“Come on, what did we do just before settling in to watch this adorable film?”

Blair sighs, but gives in, “We made hot fudge sundaes, and, um, I let you lay me on the counter and lick chocolate sauce and whipped cream off my body.” She swallows. “Then I did the same to you. We made a mess of the Air BnB.”

“We cleaned it up. Then we got into that big, comfy bed and just vegged out. Think this is one of my favorite Pixar films that you showed me.”

“You really liked Cars too.” Blair chuckles.

“Yeah, I did. That was a good one.” Harry leans back on the couch, crossing his arms behind his head.

“You don’t need to do this, you know?”

“Do what, love?” He says without looking at her, eyes focused on the screen.

“Babysit me.” She mutters.

“S’not what I’m doing.” He scoffs. “I’m enjoying spending time with you, Blair.” He looks at her. “And I’m worried about you, but I’m not babysitting you.” He puts his hand on her knee and gives it a squeeze before taking it away. “Just relax, yeah?”

“Thanks.” She pauses for a moment. “Harry…would you be taking care of me like this if you had a new girlfriend?” Her eyes start to well up with tears. “Because-“

“Why are you asking a what if like that?” He reaches to wipe her tears with his thumbs. “At the risk of sounding totally lame…I was sort of just waiting on you. Sort of hoping you’d wanna get back together at some point. I tried dating, but it’s like I told you…no one was ever you.”

“So you just kept fucking strangers?” She was so confused.

“It was all meaningless. I figured if you were out there living your life, then I should do the same.” He shrugs.

“Harry, I know you think we broke up because you thought I needed time to be young or whatever, but I wasn’t out there fucking a ton of different people. I just…I don’t know, I wanted to be on my own.”

“And I understood that, as much as it upset me. What was I going to do, beg you to stay my girlfriend?” He moves a bit closer to her. “If we were to get back together, what would you want to be different? Obviously things stopped working…”

“It’s not that they stopped working, I just…I think I just grew up a little bit. You gave me plenty of room for it, but I just sort of realized that there were other things I wanted to do and I didn’t wanna be totally tied down. If we were to get back together, I wouldn’t want you paying for things all the time, or thinking you need to fix all of my problems. Sometimes I just want someone to listen without making suggestions, you know?”

“I didn’t even realize I was doing that.” He runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I know you always meant well, and you were just trying to help in your own way.” She gives him a reassuring smile. “It didn’t always bother me, but sometimes it did. I wasn’t perfect either, I know how closed off I could get.” She furrows her brows. “I’ve been trying to work on that. I added the yoga into my routines…so that’s been helping. You sort of inspired that.”

“I should start my membership back up.”

“Yeah…it would be nice to see you in class again.”

“Remember when I started coming on Tuesday evenings, and then we’d go to the Thai place for dinner afterwards?”

“Mhm, and then you’d take us back to your place, and set up a bath for us.” She sighs dreamily. “And then you’d massage my calves for me, ugh, I always loved that.”

“Couldn’t have my baby being sore the next morning, could I?” He pouts playfully at her, and she giggles.

“You were always so good to me.” Her face was only a few inches from his now.

“Fucking worshiped you.” His lips ghost over hers, and she whimpers.

“Kiss me, Harry.”

His lips slot over hers immediately, and cups her cheeks to pull her even closer. He sucks on her bottom lip, and she whimpers again. Blair tugs on Harry’s shirt, and then pushes his back to the couch. She moves to straddle him, and he wraps his arms around her body. They’re both grabbing at different parts of one another, and she shifts so she’s only straddling one of his thighs, rolling her hips down onto it. Harry groans, and starts kissing on her neck. She gets a fist full of his hair, and yanks his head back.

“Harry, I don’t think this is a good idea.” She admits. “I mean…we haven’t agreed to anything. I think we should take this slow, don’t you?”

“You just told me to kiss you, and then you climbed into my lap.” He smirks, and she starts laughing.

“Yeah.” She grips his chin with her other hand. “You’re always good at doing exactly what I say.”

“Always.” He agrees. “If you’re not planning on having your way with me then you should get off. You’re only gonna rile me up, and I’ve not done anything to deserve that.”

“No, I suppose you deserve a reward instead of a punishment.” She presses her forehead to his and lets her hands fall to his shoulders. She sighs heavily and then looks at him again. “I need a little more time. I wanna make sure that this really makes sense. The last thing I wanna do is hurt you again.”

“I don’t want you to feel hurt either.” He squeezes her hips. “I wanna give you the time, Blair, but you’ve also had a year to sort your feelings. You either wanna do this or you don’t.”

“I really hate it when you’re right.” She huffs. “But I know what you’re saying.”

“How about this…why don’t we go out Saturday night? We could go on a date, and see how it feels.”

“Why not Friday?”

“Because you work early on Saturday mornings, darling, and you’re just going to be getting back to it again.” He tucks some hair behind her hear. “Can’t have you being sleepy.”

“You’re so sweet.” She smiles. “Okay, yeah, I’d like that. Um, did you want to just go out for dinner?”

“If that’s what you wanna do, baby. I’m down for whatever.”

“I haven’t been to that grill we used to go to all the time in forever. Feel like I could go for a really good burger.”

“Alright, we’ll go to Benson’s. I’ll pick you up around six, how’s that sound?”

“I think it sounds like a date.”

//

On Wednesday evening, much to Blair’s surprise, Harry walked into one of her evening classes with Riley. Riley had a cheeky smile on her face, and Blair just shook her head at the two of them. It had been ages since Harry had been to one of her classes, and he had picked a yoga day.

“Good evening, everyone!” Blair says once everyone gets there. “We’re gonna start off with our warm up, and then get in to it. We’ll work a little with the weights, and then we’ll cool down with the yoga like always. Does everyone have their weights?” She hears a collective yes. “Alright!” She hops up onto the small stage and gets the music playing.

When the class is over, a few people hang back to talk to Blair. Riley would usually grab a quick bite with her after class. A guy was talking to her now.

“Hey, who is that?” Harry asks Riley as they clean up their stations.

“Hm? Oh, that’s Rich, he has a thing for Blair.” Riley rolls her eyes. “He refuses to take a hint. The second he found out she was single he was all over her. She’s nice to him, but she doesn’t like him back.”

Harry narrows his eyes, and reads Blair’s body language like a book. Her arms were crossed, and she was casually trying to step away from Rich.

“I’ll get him to leave her alone.” Harry says.

“Harry, don’t.” Riley grabs his wrist. “She can handle herself.”

“I know she can, but she looks so uncomfortable. What if they were left alone here, and he tried something. He needs to know she has some backup.” Harry walks over to the two, and Blair can’t help but smirk because she knows exactly why Harry’s walking over. “Hey, sorry to interrupt, but we should get going if we want to make trivia night.”

“Right! Yeah, sorry, Rich, I need to get the studio cleaned up so I can head out.” Blair was thankful. Harry was always good at coming up with excuses for them to leave places early. Usually it was because he needed to get her home so she could fuck him, obviously now that wasn’t the case.

“Oh…alright, well, I’ll see you next week. Have a good night.” Rich looks Harry up and down before leaving.

“Thank you.” Blair sighs. “He’s a nice guy, but I’m not interested.”

“Obviously.” Harry scoffs. “Have fun with Riley.”

“You don’t wanna come with?”

“Nah, I need to get home. I have some stuff I need to do before tomorrow. Still on for Saturday?”

“Mhm.” She nods with a smile.

“Good.” He kisses her cheek. “I’ll call you Friday.”

Harry leaves and Riley helps Blair cleanup before they head out to a Panera for dinner.

“So, you two are going out on Saturday?” Riley asks her when they sit down with their food.

“Yeah, it’s sort of like a first date. I wanna make sure things feel really right with us. I have a feeling we’ll get back together officially, though.”

“Yeah? What makes you think that?” Riley smirks.

“Well…we kissed on Sunday night when he was still over. It was a really good kiss too, it was familiar, but there was still that, like, passion, you know?”

“I would love it if you got back together. I never really liked the other people he dated, and I was so excited when you both got together. He’s like the brother I never had, and I want him with someone that really cares about him. I never doubted that with you. You guys got together at a weird time in your life where you were sort of at different places. Now…well, now you might mesh better. You grew up a lot during the time you were together, I know that was tough on you both.”

“Yeah, it was.” Blair sighs, and bites into her piece of bread. “I feel like I could handle things better now. He’s been there for me during so many tough times, he’s seen me…at my absolute worst, and still loved me through all of it. I can’t wrap my head around him turning into such a playboy.”

“I couldn’t believe it myself, but I honestly don’t think he really knew how to deal with not having you around, and then…I don’t know.” Riley shakes her head. “He always wrapped it up, that’s what John told me, anyways.”

“He mentioned that to me too.” Blair rolls her eyes. “I’m not going to hold anything against him, we weren’t together. I don’t have the right to judge him about it.”

“He only wanted you, B.” Riley smiles.

“I really have missed him.” Blair smiles. “I’m really looking forward to going out with him Saturday night.” She bites her bottom lip. “Wanna come with me to Victoria’s Secret during the day? I think I should pick out something new…”

“Yeah! I’ve got a coupon to go there, actually. I need some new undies.”

“Oh, yay! We haven’t been shopping in forever.”

“I know! I hope I’m not on the road for an entire month like that again. It got old real quick.”

//

On Friday, Harry was in his office wrapping some things up, going over some paperwork. Then he looked over his calendar for Monday, just to see what meetings he had, and if he needed to do anything over the weekend.

“Mr. Styles?” Kiley, the intern training with Kate comes into his office.

“Miss Stewart, what can I do you for?” He asks, giving her his full attention. She pouts slightly at him.

“You can just call me Kiley…you call Kate by her first name.”

“I’ve known Kate for quite some time, Miss Stewart.”

“Well, we’ll get to know each other pretty well once she’s on maternity…right?”

“Most likely.” He nods. “Did you need something?”

“Yes, sorry.” She pulls a paper out of her bag. “Um, I just need you to sign off on the hours I worked this week since Kate left early. I forgot to ask her before she stepped out for her doctor’s appointment.”

“Oh, sure.” He gestures for the paper. “They’re really on you guys about the hours, huh?”

“Yeah.” She sighs. “I don’t mind, though, because I have to write a paper explaining what I did, so having an account of that will be helpful.” She shrugs. Harry hums his response as he signs the paper and hands it back to her. “Thank you…any fun plans for the weekend?”

“Just laying low tonight. I’ve got a date tomorrow, though.” He smiles.

“Oh! That’s nice.” She smiles. “Did you just meet someone?”

“No.” He shakes his head with a chuckle. “Might be starting over with my ex, which I’m pretty excited about since I’m still hopelessly in love with her.”

“Well in that case, I hope it goes super well.” She beams at him.

“Thank you, Kiley.” Her smile widens at him even more. “Feel free to head out, enjoy your weekend.”

“Thank you, Mr. Styles. I expect a full report of your date on Monday morning.”

Harry chuckles and nods as she leaves. Just when he thought his door was going to close, John enters.

“Wrap it buddy boy, we gotta meet the guys soon.”

“About that…I’m going to skip out on tonight.”

“Seriously? Why?” John frowns.

“I…I have a date tomorrow night with Blair, and-“

“You can’t be serious.” John rolls his eyes and sits down. “Why would you even entertain the idea of getting back together with her?”

“Because she seems ready for a relationship again. I still love her, and I think she still loves me. There’s still a chemistry between us, physically, so we’re going to Benson’s for a burger tomorrow to see if everything else is still there.”

“So that means you can’t come out for guy’s night?”

“You know as well as I do that guy’s night never stays guy’s night. I don’t want to be tempted by anything that could fuck me over. Besides, it wouldn’t kill me to stay in for a change. There’s a book I’ve been meaning to get back to. I wouldn’t mind just taking it easy, you guys have a good time without me.” Harry smiles at his friend. “It’s nothing personal…”

“I know.” John sighs. “You’re just fun, that’s all…” John looks down at his phone and smirks.

“Maybe you’ll meet up with that girl you see on the regular. Seems like she just texted you.”

“Maybe she did.” John nods.

“How come you don’t just date her? I’ve watched you turn down other girls to go meet up with her a dozen times.”

“It’s a little complicated. She travels a lot for work, we’re both just looking for someone familiar to hookup with right now.”

“Guess that makes sense.” Harry shrugs. “You’re pretty busy yourself”

“Exactly, so when’s around I see her more, and when she’s gone, I see other people. She does the same. We’re pretty open about it.”

“Good.” Harry smiles. “Have a beer for me tonight, yeah?”

“Alright.” John sighs and stands up. “Have fun with Blair, I guess.”

“You could sound a little more enthused.”

“I’ll be enthused if she doesn’t string you along.”

“She never strung me along.” Harry shakes his head. “We were a great team.”

“Seems like you were always doing everything for her.”

“No, she did plenty for me.”

“Babe?! I picked up a pizza!” Blair shouted as she entered Harry’s place, putting her key in the bowl by the door. “Baby?!” He wasn’t in the kitchen like she thought he’d be. She set the pizza down on the counter and walked down the hall to his home office. Her jaw dropped when she saw him knuckling at his eyes. “Harry, are you crying?” She asked softly.

“Blair.” He said, almost surprised. “Hi, I lost track of time, I’m sorry. Let’s eat.” He stood up, but she went over to him and urged him to sit.

“What happened, what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, baby.”

“It’s not nothing if you’re crying. Talk to me.”

“I’m just really stressed.” His voice cracked. “I was looking forward to taking over for my dad, but there’s so much other shit that’s been added to my plate that he didn’t really prepare me for. Now he’s down in Florida living it up with my mum, and I can’t even talk to him about it because I don’t want him to be disappointed in me. He’s trusting me with everything.”

“That’s a lot.” She wipes=d his tears away. “I’m so sorry you’re feeling like this.” She chewed on her bottom lip. “Is…is there anything I can do to help? Anything I can do to help take your mind off things for a bit? I brought pizza…”

“Um…yeah, I think there is something you could do for me, but it doesn’t involve food.” He stood and took her hand, leading her out to the living room. They both sat down. “Sometimes when we’re having sex…I let you take the lead, have you noticed that?”

“A little.” She shrugged. “I mean, I like that you’re not super dominating, it makes me feel safe.”

“Right, but before you I wasn’t really like that. I was always in control, but with you…I feel really safe too. So safe…that I’m able to just let everything else slip away when we’re doing what we do.”

“What are you saying exactly?”

“I…I sometimes I think I want you to really be in control. I’m not saying all the time, but I have to be in control of so many things, and I think it would be nice to not.”

“Okay, so I could ride you more if you want.”

“Well, that would be nice.” He smirked. “But I’m talking more like…like maybe you could blindfold me once in a while, or you could cuff me to the bed?” His was flushed with embarrassment. Her eyes widened as she finally started to understand what he was trying to say. “I’ve totally freaked you out, haven’t I? I know that stuff isn’t for everyone. I was just thinking we’ve been together a while now-“

“Harry, calm down.” She smiled, squeezing his hand. “I think it’s kind of hot that you wanna explore some different things.”

“You do?”

“Mhm.” She nodded. “I…just don’t ask me to, like, whip you or anything. I don’t think I could hurt you.”

“No, I’m not looking for pain.” He chuckled. “I just…wanna clear my head sometimes, that’s all.”

“Okay, I think I could be into that. You know how much I love all your ties, I’d love to tie you up with them.” She grinned, and he groaned softly.

“What do you say we leave the pizza for later, and we head into the bedroom to explore a little bit?”

“I say we’re in for a fantastic weekend.”

“Whatever you say man.” John says. “See you Monday.” John leaves Harry’s office, and Harry sighs. He never told anyone about what he and Blair did, it was no one’s business. He certainly wasn’t going to let it slip now.

//

At around 10AM Saturday morning, Blair picked up Riley so they could go shopping. Riley had bags under her eyes, and a fresh hickey on her neck. Blair’s mouth fell open the second Riley got in the car.

“Don’t.” Riley mumbles.

“I didn’t say anything.” Blair chuckles.

“But I know what you’re thinking.”

“Did you meet up with John last night?”

“Yeah, I guess Harry didn’t feel like going out last night, so I met up with him at some bar, and then he came back with me to my place.”

“Oh shit, is still there?”

“No, he left at, like, seven.” Riley rolls her eyes. “But not before he fucked me again.” She shakes her head. “We’ve fucked so many times, I don’t know how he’s not sick of me yet, or how I’m not sick of him.”

“Maybe it’s a sign you two should be more.” Blair smirks.

“I mean, we’re basically just in an open relationship, that’s the way I look at it anyways.” She shrugs. “We were up most of the night.” She yawns loudly.

“You could have stayed home.” Blair frowns as she keeps her eyes on the road.

“No, it’s okay, I wanted to go shopping with you.”

The girls make their way to a Victoria’s Secret, and start shopping around. Just as Riley hoped, there was an underwear sale. Blair indulged in it as well. Nothing wrong with getting some new undies to replace some old ones.

“Oh, these are cute!” Blair says, holding up a cheeky pair of panties.

“Yeah! I’ve been way more into the lace cheeky bottoms instead of thongs lately.”

“Me too! It’s way more comfortable. To be honest, I wear boxers a lot around my apartment. They’re more breathable than athletic shorts, and they don’t ride up.”

“Of course men have more comfortable underwear than us.” Riley sighs heavily. “Oh! Look at these white ones! Can never have too many white pairs.”

“Snag me a pair, please.”

Once the girls are done picking out their underwear, and a couple of bras that were two $50 (yes, way overpriced, but necessary), they head to the part of the store where the lingerie was.

“What are you looking for exactly?” Riley asks as she looks over some babydoll nighties.

“I don’t know, nothing crazy, but if things go well tonight, which I think they will, I wanna surprise him with something fun.”

“You’d really jump into bed with him right away?” There was no judgement in Riley’s voice, more so surprise.

“I mean…I know he’s your cousin and all, but he’s pretty hard to resist, Riles. He had me wrapped around his finger from the second we met.”

“Fair enough.” Riley shrugs. “I might try one of these on…surprise John one of these nights.”

The girls giggle as they pick out different things. Blair ends up finding a black lace bralette and matching panties that she thinks will work well under an outfit. The only thing was the bralette didn’t have any support, like, at all, but she was able to adjust the straps on it a bit to give her a slight lift.

“God, I wish I danced as a kid.” Blair huffs as she leaves the dressing room to meet Riley out at the register line.

“Why?”

“Because then maybe I wouldn’t have these fucking honkers on my chest. I’d love to be able to wear a bralette without worrying. My boobs are so saggy, I look like a granny when I don’t have the proper support.”

“You’re being dramatic.” Riley chuckles.

“Easy for you to say, Miss B Cup.”

“Hey, I’d kill to have boobs like yours. I always feel like mine are too small. I have to wear pushups all the time. Besides, your boobs are not saggy, they just sit a little lower on your chest.”

“When I really started dancing I thought they’d get smaller since I was working out all the time, but nope. The worst part is, it’s all right here.” She lifts her arm slightly and rubs just under her armpit. “I’m only a C, but I feel like a double D sometimes when I put a bra on, it takes all the side boob to the front.” Blair puts her things up on the counter, and Riley goes to the next register.

“Find everything okay?” The girl behind the register asks.

“Mhm.” Blair smiles. “I have some coupons too.” She takes her phone out so the girl can scan the barcodes on Blair’s screen.

“Oh, that’s a good one! Took off 25% of your total.” The girl puts everything into a bag for Blair, and she heads out with Riley.

“So, when will John get to see that babydoll?” Blair smirks at Riley.

“When I feel like he deserves it.” Riley grins. “If he invites me over tonight, I might bring it with me.”

“Do you usually see him two nights in a row?”

“Sometimes, but not often. I think he missed me a little since I was gone for so long. Kinda missed him too. He told me he’d call me later today.” She shrugs.

The girls grab a quick lunch before heading home. Blair didn’t want to eat anything too heavy since she was going to be eating out for dinner, so she just had a salad. She spent some time doing some social media work for her business, and then spent some time putting a new dance together. Her customers had been asking for some more throwbacks, so she was crafting some choreography to a couple of Ricky Martin songs. They could be used for the high intensity days. She always recorded herself so she could go back later to review the steps.

When she was done she was drenched in sweat, so she hops into the shower to freshen up. She sort of ends up pampering herself a bit. She shaved her legs, so she massaged some lotion into them, and used some cocoa butter on her thighs because she liked the way it smelled. After that, she grabbed her electric razor to trip her bikini line, having exfoliated first in the shower, so she was plenty smooth where she wanted to be. She spritzes some perfume into the air and walks through it, then she gets to work on her hair. She had been sporting a shoulder length look lately. Her hair used to be really long in college, but in recent years she had been keeping it a tad shorter. It was up in a braid or bun most days, but she decides to wear it down tonight. She puts on some makeup, and then goes through her closet to find something to wear over her new lingerie. She decides on a pair of black jeans that could easily be word with some booties. She pulls on a blush pink tank top and a tan cardigan to complete the look. You could just see the lace top of the bralette, and she sort of liked that look. Her phone goes off just as she’s putting some lipstick on.

“Hello?” She answers brightly.

“Hey, baby, I’m downstairs.”

“Okay, be down in a sec!” She throws some makeup remover wipes into her bag, and a spare toothbrush, then she heads out. Again, she didn’t quite know what would happen tonight, but she wanted to be prepared. Harry was standing outside his car. He smiles when he sees her.

“Hi.” He says, and opens the car door for her.

“Hi, thanks.” She smiles back and gets inside. They head towards Benson’s, being silent in the car at first. “How was your week?” She asks him.

“Good, had a pretty good workout Wednesday.” He grins, looking at her for a moment before looking back at the road. It makes Blair giggle. “Work wasn’t too stressful for a change, although I’m getting anxious about Kate going on maternity leave.”

“Is the intern no good?”

“No, she just doesn’t have a lot of experience. She’ll get the hang of it.” He shrugs. “How was your week, how are you feeling?”

“I’m okay. I spoke with my mom last night, she’s doing alright. My aunt’s been staying with her, so that’s good.”

“Do you think she’ll sell the house?”

“Nah, she likes where she lives, but I think she’s going to paint and change a few things so it doesn’t feel like such a ghost town, you know?”

“Makes sense.” Harry nods. “I know I’ve offered a ton, but if she needs any help with anything, don’t be afraid to ask. I can hold my own with a paintbrush.”

“Thank you, Harry, that’s very sweet.” She gives his shoulder a squeeze. “It was really nice having you in class Wednesday.” She says shyly.

“Yeah? Would you be opposed if I started coming regularly again?”

“Not at all, I’d really like it, actually.” She smiles. “It…it made it easier to wait to see you tonight.” She blushes, and he reaches for one of her hands. He brings it to his lips to kiss her knuckles.

“You’re cute.” He tells her, resting their hands on the console, not letting go at all.

They get to Benson’s, and get seated in a booth. Harry hesitates for a moment, desperately wanting to sit next to her, but he thinks that might be too much too soon, so he sits across from her. She gives him a funny look.

“What?” He asks.

“Nothing…you’re just far away. You usually sit next to me.”

“I didn’t know if you wanted me to.”

“I want you to.” Harry smiles, stands back up, and slides in next to her. She hooks her arms around his and rests her cheek on his shoulder. “Much better.” She sighs. He kisses the top of her head, and a waitress comes over.

“Evening, folks, are you expecting anyone else?” She asks.

“No, love, it’s just us.” Harry says to her, squinting at her nametag. “Becky, is it?”

“Y-yes.” She clears her throat. “Can I get you started with any drinks or appetizers?”

“Definitely two waters.” Blair begins. “And I’ll have a vodka-tonic, please.”

“I’ll have the same.” Harry says. “Do you want an app?” He asks Blair.

“No, I think just the burger will be good.”

“Right, think we’re ready to order dinner.” Harry says to Becky.

“Great! What can I get you?”

“I’ll have the turkey burger with cheddar cheese and sautéed mushrooms.” Blair says.

“And I’ll have veggie burger with avocado.” Harry says.

“Sounds good, I’ll be right back with your drinks.” Becky says, taking their menus before walking away.

“Just a veggie burger?” Blair asks Harry.

“Yeah, I’ve been craving a good one lately, and they make the best here.”

“Very true.” She nods. Becky comes back over with the drinks, and sets them on the table. “So…do anything fun last night?”

“I stayed in.” Harry says, before taking a sip of his drink. “Got caught up on a book I’ve been reading, watched a little TV, nothing special.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t go out with your friends. Isn’t Friday usually your guy’s night?”

“Yeah, I just felt like skipping last night.” He shrugs. “What about you, what did you do?”

“I ran errands all day, and then went to bed early so I could get up for my early classes this morning. Then Riley and I went shopping, and then I did some work at my place. Got ready to go out with you.” She shrugs.

“What does Riley have to say about all this?”

“She’s happy that we’re entertaining the idea of getting back together.” Blair chuckles and sips her drink. “Did you tell anyone we were going out tonight?”

“Mentioned it to my intern…and to John. He wasn’t so enthused.” Harry rolls his eyes.

“He’s never liked me, and I literally have no idea why.”

“Think he was just jealous that I snagged someone as gorgeous and bright as you.” Harry grins. “You know, when we first got together a ton of people gave me shit because you were still in school.”

“I was in my last semester, and I was twenty-one, it wasn’t like I was a child.” Blair scoffs.

“That’s what I said! It wasn’t like I was looking for someone younger than me, it just happened.”

“We just clicked right away, nothing wrong with that.” She inches a little closer to him, her ankle hooking around his under the table.

“Not at all.” His lips graze over hers, but their food is brought over to the table before they can really kiss.

They both giggle and dig into their food, each moaning out at the taste. They continue to talk about things, catching each other on the last year that they weren’t in one another’s lives. It felt easy and natural.

“I don’t wanna be too forward, but would you like to come back to mine when we’re done?” Harry asks.

“I’d like that.” She nods. “Got any sweets at home?”

“Mhm, I’ve got those chewy chocolate chip cookies you like so much.”

“This night just keeps getting better and better.” She smiles. When the check comes, they both reach for it.

“Blair, let go of the check.”

“No, I wanna pay for dinner.”

“I insist, let me pay.”

“Harry, I don’t want you always paying for everything, come on.”

“Fine, can we at least split it?”

“Ugh, fine.” She slaps her card down and so does he.

“So fucking irritating when you do that.” He huffs.

“No, what’s irritating is that you think I can’t pay for stuff.”

“That’s not what this is! I just like paying for our dates, it’s gentlemanly.”

“Yeah, well, it makes me feel like shit.” Becky comes to grabs the cards, and tells them she’ll be right back. “I’m doing well for myself now, I want things to be more equal. I’m not with you for your money.”

“I know you’re not, baby…I just…I can’t help that I wanna spoil you rotten.” He presses his forehead to hers, and she sighs before pecking his lips quickly.

“There are plenty of other ways you can do that, Harry.”

“Am I gonna have the chance?” Becky comes back with their cards, and they both sign their slips before sliding out of the booth. She takes his hand in hers as they walk out.

“Yes.” She says as they both get into the car. “I…I think wanna see where this goes with you, babe. I feel like I’m really ready for you now…”

“That means the world to me, Blair.” Her bottom lip starts to quiver, and he frowns. “Hey, why are you crying?” He reaches to caress her cheek.

“I just can’t believe you basically were waiting for me all this time.” She sniffles. “I feel so shitty. And I feel even shittier because I’m jealous of all the other people you slept with that we weren’t together.”

“Baby.” Harry sighs. “I was so in love with you, still am, none of them meant anything. I’m sorry you feel hurt by it. You don’t need to worry about it now, though, I’m all yours.” Her hand grips the collar of his shirt and she tugs him close to her, only a few centimeters apart.

“Mine.” She says, eyes darkening before her lips crash against his. She nips and sucks at his bottom lip as his hands cup her cheeks, trying to get even closer.

“Fuck.” He breathes, putting his keys in the ignition. “Need to get you home.” He pulls onto the street, and zips them home. His hand grips her thigh the entire time, squeezing it occasionally.

“Thought of you last weekend in the shower.” She says, shifting on her side a little. “Thought of the first time we had sex in the shower.” Her breath is on his ear now, and she nibbles on his lobe.

“Blair.” He warns, but she keeps going, kissing on his neck.

“Made me feel so good, always make me feel good.”

“Blair, I’m going to crash the car, just sit patiently, please.” She sits back normally in her seat. “Thank you.” He sighs. “So, you really thought of me?”

“It was hard not to with you leaving me breakfast.” She pouts at him. “So sweet of you, and I haven’t had a chance to even reward you for being so good to me.”

“You’re still into all that?” He asks cautiously.

“Only for you…do you still like it?”

“Only if it’s you. I told you I didn’t do that with anyone else.”

“You still trust me enough?”

“Course I do, baby.” He reaches for her hand to intertwine their fingers. He drives a little faster to his place, and they finally reach it. “Gonna take care of you first, and then you can do me, alright?”

“Whatever you want, babe.”

They get up to his place, somehow keeping their hands to themselves in the elevator. Before she knows it, Harry’s slamming Blair against the wall of his front hallway, attacking her neck with his lips.

“Gonna mark you up.” He says as he sucks on her skin. “Then everyone will know you’re taken again.”

She whimpers as her response, and pushes his head further into her neck. She wiggles out of her cardigan, and wraps her arms around his neck.

“Jump.” He grunts into her ear, and she does so, wrapping her legs around his waist so he can carry her to his bedroom. He sets her down on the bed, letting her get her shoes off. He does the same before kneeing onto the bed. She takes her tank top off, and his mouth waters at the sight of the bralette. “Christ.” He breathes as he gropes her supple breasts. “Missed these.” He sucks on her nipple through the lace, and her head rolls back. He does the same to the other one, getting it nice and pebbled. One of his hands slides down between her legs and he whimpers. “Need to get these off you, that okay?”

“Mhm, yeah, please.”

He undoes her button and zipper, yanking the jeans off of her. His eyes widen when he sees the matching panties.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Blair. Are these new?”

“Yeah, bought them today, just for you.” She props herself up on her elbows. “Wouldn’t mind you taking them off, though.”

Harry nearly growls as he tugs them down her legs. His hands slide up and down her smooth skin, having missed the feeling of her skin on his. He spreads her legs apart, and starts leaving open mouthed kisses on her inner thighs, sucking some nasty bruises into them. Blair clutches at his blankets and grits her teeth while he has his fun marking her up.

“Can I?” He asks, looking up at her. “Can I taste you?”

“Yes, of course you can.” She reaches forward to push his hair back, and he smiles at her before licking up her slit.

He licks and sucks all around her folds before working his tongue around her clit, sucking on it briefly before bringing his thumb to it. He licks into her center, making her mewl as he essentially just makes out sloppily with the area.

“Yes, fuck.” Her hands rake through his hair. “Feels so good, Harry.” She grinds against his face, and he moans against her. “Harry, fingers, please, use your fingers.” She whines.

He lifts his head from her, and reaches his hand up to her so she can suck on his fingers. She does so happily, and then he slips two fingers inside her. She gasps and lets her body go slack against the bed.

“Baby, shit, you’re so fucking tight, does it hurt?”

“No, feels so god, m’so wet.”

“I know, you’re dripping.” He pulls his fingers out and sucks on them, moaning again before slipping them back inside to the knuckle.

“R-right there.” She whimpers. Her mouth was open, body writhing under his, having not been touched by another man in almost a year, her body was reacting on overdrive. Her back was arching, and she was pushing her head further into the mattress. “Harry, Harry!” She screams as she comes around his fingers, and he fucks her through it, sucking on her clit to prolong it. As she starts to come down he sits up, and starts taking his shirt off. “Fuck, I’m gonna give it to you so good.” She sits up and watches he takes his clothes off. She takes her bralette off, and tosses it on the floor.

“How do you want me?”

“That depends…um…what would you like me to do? Like, how…how hard do you wanna go tonight?”

“I wanna be able to touch you since it’s been so long, and I wanna be able to look at you.”

“Alright, so we can just keep it sweet and easy, save the rest for another time.”

“Yeah…work back up to it.”

“Get on your back, m’gonna ride you.”

Harry gets himself situated, sitting up against the headboard. Blair raises an eyebrow at him.

“Just wanna be as close as possible tonight, baby.”

“Okay.” She smiles, and gets herself on his lap.

“Are you still on the pill?”

“Mhm, are you okay to not use a condom?”

“Definitely don’t want to. Need feel you.”

“Need to feel you too.”

She grips his hard cock, giving it a few pumps before she guides it inside herself. Her mouth falls open as she feels him stretch her out. Harry looks down and watches as she swallows him whole. They both moan out once he’s full inside her. Her fingernails dig into his shoulders as she gets adjusted to him. His hands squeeze at her hips and ass.

“Shit, Harry.” She presses her forehead to his. “Missed you so much.”

“Missed you too.” He cups her cheeks and kisses her as she starts to slowly rock on and off him. His tongue slips into her mouth, and she grips at his back as she kisses him back. “You feel so fucking good.” He says before biting her bottom lip, sucking on it.

She whimpers and moves herself a little faster on him. She grinds herself against him, feeling the friction on her clit start to form. His arms wrap around her back, his fingers digging into her skin.

“Move with me.” She says into his ear before nibbling on it.

He groans as he starts to thrust up into her. She starts to bounce up and down him, moving his hands to her hips. He watches as her breasts bounce in front of his face, and he leans in to kiss and suck on them. Her head rolls back with pleasure. She wanted to feel his tongue all over her. She brings two fingers to his mouth, and he takes them in quickly. He looks up at her as he sucks on them, swirling his tongue around them, and nipping at the pads of them. She takes them away to rub at her clit.

He growls, and moves to pin her on her back, surprising her completely. He was never like this in bed with her. She looks up at him with wide eyes as he throws one of her legs over his shoulder, and replaces her fingers with his own. She groans at his touch. He was driving himself in so much deeper and she could barely handle it.

“Okay?” He asks her, panting slightly.

“Mhm, it’s good, so good.” One of her hands goes to the back of his neck, pulling him down for a sloppy kiss. They breathe each other in and out once they both start panting. “Harry, fuck, I’m so close.” She squeezes around him and he bites down on her shoulder.

“Blair.” He moans into her ear. “Can I come inside you?”

“Yes! Fuck, yes, please!” She screams as she’s coming again, feeling even more turned on when she feels Harry’s hot come start to fill her up. She grinds her hips towards his trying to make her orgasm last as long as possible. “Love it when you fill me up, feels so good.” She says as she continues to squeeze around him.

He slots his mouth over hers as they both start to come down. Their tongues mold together as they kiss lazily. He’s slow to pull out, but he was too sensitive to stay inside her any longer. She squeezes her legs closed to try to not make a mess. Harry scoops Blair up quickly bridal style to carry her to the bathroom, setting her down gently on the toilet, and leaving her to do her business. When she walks out of the bathroom, he’s laying on his bed in a fresh pair of boxers with a dreamy smile on his face. She climbs onto the bed and lays in between his legs, resting her head on his tummy. She buries her face into his soft skin while he starts to card through her mussed up hair.

“So…we’re really back together?” He asks after a few moment of peaceful silence. She looks up at him with a smile on her face.

“Yeah, I really wanna be your girlfriend again.”

“You have no idea how happy I feel right now.” He continues to play with her hair as she sets her head back down.

“You’ve never really taken control like that before…I kinda liked it.” She peers up at him again, grinning. “Maybe I should see what being the sub feels like sometime.”

“Oh, baby, I don’t know if I could switch like that. Don’t think I’d get much pleasure in making you wait for things. Think I’d give in the second you asked for something.” He chuckles.

“You’re so cute, Harry, but I understand what you’re saying. I don’t mind being the one to do that stuff when you really need it, babe.” She moves further up his body so she can be closer to his face. “Do you think in a bit when you’re ready to go again we could…bring out some of your ties?”

“Feel like I’m already bloating back up, fuck.” He groans, and kisses her.

“You know what I’ve really missed doing with you?” She says, moving her lips to the shell of his ear.

“What, baby?”

“Fucking that tight hole of yours.” She says lowly, and he whimpers.

“Yes.” He breathes, and she looks at him. “Still have everything, it just hasn’t been used in a while.”

“Would you really wanna get into all of that tonight? I mean, I’m game if you are…you seemed hesitant before.”

“I just wanted to feel really close with you before, but now that we’ve got that out of our system I’m definitely up for it.” He pecks her lips. “We’ve got the rest of the weekend to do all we want.”

“Mmm, and the weekend after that, and the weekend after that, and maybe sometimes during the middle of the week. Oh! Remember when I used to come to your office at work, and I’d let you bend me over your desk, god, that was always so hot.”

“Or that time we screwed in that bathroom at your studio?” His smile was incredibly mischievous.

“Or the times you sit me up on the counter in your kitchen and fuck me?”

“Or the time you bent me over my own desk her here?”

“I think it’s time we make some new memories.” She says, getting off of him, and extending her hand out to him for him to follow.

“Couldn’t agree with you more.”

Blair leads them inside Harry’s walk in closet where he kept his box of toys. It was still in the same spot as always. She pops the lid off and they both smile at each other.

“How long do you think I could edge you for?” She asks him.

“Um, I should be okay to go for a while since I already came.”

“Excellent.” She picks up a cock ring, the kind that vibrates. “We’ve got a lot of time to make up for.”

[twinklelilstarkey]

For the Colton Imagine can it be something like proposal or with kids (he just looks adorable with children)

Kids - Colton Parayko

A/N: Of course, baby! I chose with kids because I just couldn't say no to that. Here it is.

Words: 2.7k+

Type: Fluff

Warnings: Reader is a kindergarten teacher. Kids (?). Just Colton melting over kids and being their favorite.

To say that your boyfriend looked cute when with kids, is an understatement. He’s just the purest and most adorable person when he’s close to a kid. His whole expression can change when his eyes land on the small young humans, and so does his smile and his tone of voice.

Colton is just a sight to see. And a great helper too.

The reason behind that is that you’re a kindergarten teacher. You, as someone that has always loved the idea of being around kids, are still young and learning in your job on how to be a great teacher and even role model to such young kids.

Right off when you started your career, before meeting Colton, you wanted kids to have the best of experiences in your classroom. You wanted to be the coolest teacher, all because you also had that when you were younger. And that came with a lot of fun activities throughout the week and a lot of decorating to do in your classroom. 

Is it tiring? Yes. But is it worth it when the kids run in every morning all excited to see you? Oh, absolutely.

Close to any festive date, you remodel your classroom with the help of your coworkers - and Colton, when he’s free - and always do a list of all the activities you want to do during the week.

Imagination is key in this job.

You met Colton a year into your job. It was a random date you had set yourself in by a dating app - something your friends had forced you to try and see what would happen.

On that date, the first minutes were a bit awkward, you felt nervous and Colton felt all anxious. You were scared that it would all just be a recipe for disaster. 

For an example, the thoughts that ran through your mind were all about: what if one of you just said something completely random or talked too much? 

Ugh, it was stressful, to say the least.

But that was until you said what you do for a living. Oh, the heart eyes he gave you.

“So, you like kids?” He had asked you.

“Of course! Ever since I was teenager and babysat my neighbor’s kid.”

You won your way to his heart right away. He made you all sorts of questions about your job and just smiled all the time you would mention your favorite moments with the kids. 

And when you asked about him, and he told all sorts of opportunities he has had with his job to hang out with kids. And you felt like you melted into a puddle. 

He would mention how many times he has infiltrated himself onto small kids’ skating-classes at the Enterprise center and how they would always let him help out. Kids are, honestly, who rule the soft spot on his heart.

All the stories the two of you had, were just what saved that date. It was what made you talk for hours and hours about one another and make you notice how much more you have in common, other than liking kids.

Both of your friend groups would just think that their ears would fall off if they heard you talk about one another one more time, during the following weeks.

Three dates in and you’re dating. Living your absolute best life.

And two years later, which is now, you’re still dating Colton. You, now, go and see him in every home game and he picks you up from work every time he’s free. He also helps you with buying stuff for your classroom - when it needs redecoration, or when you need help with getting stuff ready on big days.

“Can you pass me the scissors, babe?” Colton asks you as he stares intensely at the piece of paper.

You pass him the scissors quickly and he whispers at you a little ‘thank you’.

You’re both sitting in one of the small tables of your classroom while cutting up some drawn and painted balloons. 

Today marks a week away from your class’s last kindergarten day, so you’re getting everything ready for it to the best last few days with them.

Most of the classroom, if not the school, is decorated. You, honestly, just need to add the little details you weren’t able to finish on Friday’s afternoon, and Colton, which had a day off, decided to come in with you super early to help.

You look over at the clock on the wall and you almost let out a gasp. The first kids, the ones that always appear before time for class, are almost here.

Quickly you stand on your feet and go get the other things ready while Colton continues to cut up balloons or drawing cute faces on them.

You open the bags of candy and start putting two down by the desk of each kid, probably looking like a maniac at how quick you’re moving around. 

You dunk the rest in the bowl by your desk, and you hear, very faintly, a little giggle at the end of the hall.

Oh, here they come.

You grab onto your sheets of paper and look over your shoulder at the door of your classroom, seeing it open very slowly. A small head of dark curls appears and a group of gasps escapes the children at the door.

“Good morning, Miss Y/N!” The girl that peeked in first says with her big smile.

“Good morning!” You say back with a smile.

Colton lifts his gaze from his little balloon and he sees the small kids, all staring up at you by the door. He smiles as you let them in the class and all their eyes land on him as he comes into view.

“This is Colton, he’s just helping me out, today.” You explained to them.

Some of the shyer kids hesitated a bit when walking in the colorful room, but the extroverts just sprinted to him with their toothless smiles.

“Hi!” They all screamed at him at different timings. “I’m Jacob!” One of them screams while everyone else also begins their introductions.

Colton smiles at them and soon a wave of questions hits him.

Children, when not scared, are one of the most curious beings in the world, so they will ask anyone about anything. And that comes with a large lack of filter too. But that is not something anyone that has come close to a child doesn’t know.

Colton, to your surprise, was able to answer every single one of them without ignoring any kids. Something you, their teacher, still have some difficulty doing, today.

While most of the kids are distracted with him, you go and drift your attention towards the shyest ones. You walk over to the door and go help the ones who are hesitating to walk in, holding up your hand at them before crouching down to their level to say a little ‘good morning’.

In a matter of very few minutes, you’re able to warm them up with the idea of walking in - which, indeed, has a lot to do with the candies that are resting on their desks. 

When the small group of kids clears out your door, you notice a special girl you’ve grown to love ever since you started working here.

Her name is Addison and she is the purest, yet the shyest kid you’ve ever come to meet. She’s timid to the point of preferring to be alone all day, even in the park in recess. She has had to change classes a bunch of times due to that lack of talking and not making friends, yet she landed on yours a year ago.

Throughout this year, you have been trying your best at winning her trust. She’s a very scared little being and you can’t just leave her in the corner, especially when most of the stuff you do in class is for everyone to be involved and have a great time as a group.

There have been good days and bad days, yet her good days are able to make your heart melt. Those are the days where she’s able to do more than half of the stuff you offer her to do and with a smile. The most precious smile in the world.

“Good morning, princess Addison.” You tell her as she stands behind the doorway. “I love your dress, today!”

A small little curve appears over her lips and she starts taking small steps towards you. You smile brightly at her, still crouched to be at eye level, and she quickly is standing in front of you.

“Mommy did my hair today.” She whispers at you.

You let out an enthusiastic gasp and she smiles at you.

“Oh, well, let me see the masterpiece.”

She turns around to do a little twirl and you look to see her coily hair separated in two perfect buns, which are held by two glittery light blue elastics - Addison’s favorite color.

“Wow!” You tell her and she turns back to you.

She is smiling so brightly that you swear you’re already a puddle. She’s just this adorable human being. 

If there’s any kid that will make you emotional when leaving on the last day, it will be her. No offense to anyone else, she’s just the princess of the classroom.

Colton, who is still sitting at the table, has found himself done with all the cutting and coloring, but also with two young boys climbing his back to dangle over his shoulders.

You weren’t kidding when you said that the kids are always in a good mood right in the morning.

He laughs at something one of the boys says and he looks over to check on you. You’re talking to a little girl in a blue dress and your smile is just as wide as it can be, as well as your eyes, which just twinkle with love.

When you finally stand back on your feet and extend your hand over to the little girl, Colton notices how her expression changes. Her small eyes study the room anxiously as she walks with you, and when they land on him, even worse.

Stranger danger, Colton, come on! Of course, the kids won’t like you right off the bat.

Before Colton could stand up or say anything to announce how he’s already done with his task at you, a little voice stops him.

“Mister Colton?” A little boy says while waving his arm around, “Are you and Miss Y/N dating?”

(...)

Half an hour later and your classroom is almost full, as hell as it’s almost time for class to begin and Colton’s time to leave. You stand back to look at what you just put on the wall, just to make sure it’s centered. 

Yeah, looks good.

The usual giggles, ones you’ve grown quite accustomed to, are louder, yet only now you’re looking back to see what’s happening.

Colton is still sitting with the kids, he has two boys laying over his shoulders, which look like they’re about to do a handstand, and he’s talking to a whole other group that is sitting on the floor in front of him.

You walk over to your desk to check something on your computer before you announce the time to everyone - and end up breaking everyone’s hearts. And as soon as you take a seat on your chair, you notice that Addison has gotten up from her seat.

One of her little drawings is still sitting on her desk, but you can’t stop yourself from looking for her in the big group of children around your boyfriend. And that’s when you see her, walking towards him with a paper in her hands.

Colton continues to talk to the kids, but that’s when he notices a small figure appear beside him. He looks over and the girl from before - Addison, you already told him the name of everyone in the room - is standing right beside him.

He gives her a smile, which she gives back, just a little shyer.

A sudden weight is lifted off his shoulders - quite literally, because one of the boys became tired of hanging on his shoulder, but also because she had just smiled at him. 

So, he decides to try his best.

“What do you have there?” He asks Addison, pointing his finger at the paper on her hand, honestly, just trying to make conversation.

Why does he feel nervous?

He notices her lips moving, but he can’t hear what she said. So he leans in, turning his head to the side, so she can repeat right over his ear.

“A drawing.” She tells him, again, in a whisper.

Colton snaps his head back to her and smiles widely in excitement.

“Really?”

She nods.

“Can I see it?”

Her lips move again and Colton leans in again so she can talk on his ear.

“It’s for you.”

“For me?” Colton asks extremely excited and looks over at her.

Addison nods with a little shy smile and a little giggle escapes her mouth as he looks at her with an open mouth in shock. She, slowly, raises her hand with the paper on it and Colton, just as slowly, takes it.

(Kind of looks like this - but make it hockey)

As his eyes land on the paper, he feels his heart burst at how adorable it is. He can tell that it’s a bunch of hockey players, all of them with blue jerseys and with hockey sticks on their hands.

“Oh my god!” He whisper-yells, making the girl look at him a little worried, “It’s amazing!”

Another giggle escapes her mouth and Colton, probably getting too confident, extends his (now) free arms to ask for a hug. She looks at him a little hesitatingly, yet before he could even think twice about what he just requested, she throws herself into his arms.

Colton, like with any other kid from class that requested a hug, wraps his arms around her and pulls her into the hug. Her giggles fill the room and you smile at the sight.

It’s impressive, to say the least. It took you so long to get that little girl’s trust and with one simple morning, Colton, not only got a drawing but a hug?!

Sounds unfair to you. Even though extremely adorable.

“So, you’re a blues fan?” You hear him ask her, making you let out a laugh.

If she isn’t, he sure is going to convert her into being one.

She nods her head and decides to do the same thing as another kid is doing beside Colton - sitting over his leg. Colton, now with one kid on each leg, and still one over his shoulder, looks over at you.

His smile is just the brightest ever. He’s having the time of his life.

He looks back at Addison and shows the drawing she just did to her.

“Am I in this?” He asks her and she nods.

Her little finger points at one of the figures with blue jerseys and the only difference between him and the other guys is that he’s holding hands with someone. He eyes the other person with care, and just by the clothes that they’re wearing and from the hair.

It’s you. Holding his hand while he holds a stick with his opposite hand.

He unconsciously pouts at how cute it all is and fights his urges to stand and run to you, just to show you the amazing drawing.

You must have read his mind, because right as he thought that, you appeared beside him, also taking a seat over the carpet with everyone. It didn’t take long for some of your students to move over and sit close to you.

Colton hands you the drawing, which you carefully grab it, and he points at the pair of people in the middle of it. You smile brightly and Addison gives the two of you her biggest smile of the day.

She was proud of her drawing, but, now, more than ever.

“Ms. Y/N, can Colton stay for the rest of the day?” Someone asks in the crowd of children.

Colton laughs beside you and you smile at the boy who asked it. Before you could even open your mouth to answer him, Colton does it.

“No, but I can come back tomorrow (?)” He says, almost as if it’s a question.

He’s looking at you, and that’s when you understand that he’s asking you for permission. And as soon as the kids also notice that, a wave of screams hits your ears.

“Please!” and “Let him!” are screamed at you and you smile.

“Yeah, of course.” You tell him and he smiles.

The kids celebrate, some by jumping around, others throwing their fists in the air while screaming victoriously, and others - like Addison - just smile at the both of you.

Ugh, things can’t get better than this.

Hope you liked this! Sorry it took me a little long to post it, but I was a little stuck on one part. Really hope it was worth the wait.

[jamilelucato]

Mine [F.W.]

pairing: Fred Weasley x reader;

summary: Fred suggests the unmissable proposal to pretend to be dating, but will it work?

warnings: fluffy but i know you all love it;

a/n: forgot to mention but the reader can be from any house (if you are one to believe that students from different houses can stay in other common rooms); again, this is for the A Very Harry Potter Christmas (day 8) with @whack-ed

Harry Potter Masterlist ||  Musical Hogwarts Series 

When Fred came to you, three weeks ago, asking for your help, you said yes, because, frankly, it was pretty nice being the one the twins trusted to teach them new rare spells and charms.

However, three weeks ago, Fred didn’t ask for your help with spellcasting. He asked you to date him.

Okay, okay, fake date him. But still dating, so it was a surprise. You gasped for air, unsure of what to say next, unsure of how to continue. You stared at him, involuntarily tilting your head.

And you said yes. Honestly, you didn’t regret it — yet. Fred explained how you two would proceed, and your part came across pretty easy.

You had to smile at him during classes, and toss him notes. He was going to spend more time around you in the library, and you would join him in his and his twin’s pranks. Again, pretty simple stuff.

“And nobody can know?” your whispered echoed in the dark abandoned corridor.

Fred held his wand which had its tip light with Lumos closer to your face. He wanted to be sure you wouldn’t tell anyone about it.

“No one. Not even George,” he whispered back, hoping to sound serious. “That one can’t keep a secret, I’ll tell you that. And he’ll tell her.”

“Her?” you asked before you could hold yourself. When Fred and George asked for your help, and you agreed, you couldn’t ask questions. That was their primary rule, but you were so curious...

“Angelina,” he said her name in a tender whisper and part of you felt jealous. Not of Fred — Godric, no — but of the fact that Angelina had someone like her. And nobody liked you in, what? Forever?

“Is this all for her?” you asked politely, moving your own wand towards the two of you, who, now thinking, were closer than needed in the dim passageway.

Fred gulped. Yeah, he fancied Angelina. George knew. Now, you knew too. But he didn’t like to say it, and he hated when people mentioned, particular because she didn’t like him back.

“So when do we start?” you asked after a moment in silence after Fred refused to confirm he liked the Gryffindor chaser.

++

Fred’s head rested over your lap while you carelessly ran your fingers through his ginger locks, in one of the opaquest couches available in Gryffindor’s common room.

It wasn’t the first time you two could be found in this position. Although you generally preferred to be the one laying down — you loved when people in general played with your hair —; when Fred walked in you were already sitting, so he was left to be the one to lie down.

Three weeks of fake-dating had gone by, and you couldn’t believe it. At first, the days seemed to be going down slowly, as you had to force interactions with the twin. But after the end of the first week, when Fred met you with the offer to walk around the school holding your hand, the relationship came to be easier to tolerate and the days started going by really fast.

Fake-dating Fred was effortless because Fred was a good friend. That wasn’t much of a surprise — you knew Mrs Weasley had raised her children well — but the fact that he was an exceptional joker and a funny chap was a bonus you weren’t expecting.

He would’ve been a nice first boyfriend if he had been in fact your first boyfriend. 

Thankfully, people were buying the relationship with no problem — you even heard Ginny saying it was inevitable. You two didn’t even need to kiss in front of the students for them to believe. Well, you did have to endure some physical contact (like what you were doing right now with his head over your lap), but that was surprisingly rather enjoyable.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” Fred asked all of the sudden after Godric knew how long you two had stayed cosy in front of the fire.

“I’m going to Hogsmeade to buy some Christmas presents,” you answered, looking down to meet his gaze. He seemed peaceful and calm when he had your fingers intertwined in his hair. “Wanna come?” you invited him to enjoy your little trip — a corner of your mind remembering that he was allegedly your boyfriend; therefore, he should escort you.

“Sure,” he smiled, but you were almost sure that it was because you moved your fingers and not because he was much excited to Hogsmeade. “Have to buy some myself.”

George spotted you two in the couch, comfortable together — as he was already used to finding you two — and he joined in the conversation.

“Plans for tomorrow?” he asked, sitting down in the sofa next to your left.

“Hogsmeade,” was Fred’s simple reply. You found it super cool how he didn’t even need to get up to know the voice belonged to his twin. 

That was another thing being in a sham relationship with Fred made you improve: differentiating Fred from George. Not that three weeks earlier, you were terrible, but you were undoubtedly not the best one for the job. Now, you had no problem at all.

“Oh, perhaps I’ll see you two around,” George smiled, his eyes meeting yours. You smiled back at him, pleased to know that he still liked you even though you supposedly had his twin’s tongue in your mouth often. George didn’t know the truth, obviously, but even so... You wondered how long would take the twin to found out Fred was lying about his love life. “I have a date,” added George, noticing that he should elaborate.

“Wow, Georgie, how nice!” you kept your smile, this time only shaking your head positively so he could know you were genuinely happy.

Fred seemed delighted too, stretching his neck over your lap for just an opportunity to see his twin without having to get up.

“Good luck,” wished Fred. “Although she can’t be pretty as my girl, I hope yours is at least cute.”

You looked down at Fred, meeting his gaze before nudging his head slightly out of your lap. If you two were indeed dating, instead of pushing, you would’ve kissed him — and, oh, the urge to do so was strong, but you reminded yourself that he was just following his act.

George watched your interaction with joy in his eyes. He was happy for his brother for finally finding someone to utterly understand him — and he had other reasons too, but they didn’t matter now.

“You two are so cute, ” George said, before getting up. Fred hadn’t even noticed that his twin was still there — so much he was distracted with your attempt of being embarrassed. Deep down, Fred was acknowledging that more than often, you were managing to truly distract him from his surroundings. 

“I’ll leave you two with some privacy,” said George before finally leaving.

You and Fred exchanged looks again, and then both burst into laughter, not believing George honestly had let that out.

“He seems more romantic,” you pointed out, starting to play with Fred’s hair again.

Fred shifted — you felt his body melt at your touch again.

“Perhaps it’s this new girl, ” Fred shrugged. He came off as unable to care deeply when your fingers ran through his scalp.

“I don’t think she’s much new,” you said, thinking more to yourself how George always appeared to be the more romantic of the twins.

++

“Which one do you think Ginny would like more?” Fred asked, holding what seemed to be two same shirts for you, who had no basic sense of how to tell Quidditch teams apart.

“Which one is she fan of?” you asked, deciding to not mention to Fred that you were terrible with teams.

Fred sighed. “Both,” he replied, knowing deep down that his sister would like any of the shirts, but he just wanted to get her the perfect one.

“Well, I’d pick this one,” you took a loop of faith, pointing to the shirt with your favourite colour. Fred stared at the one you aimed and then smiled, suddenly realizing you had no idea which team was each.

“I’ll go with your suggestion,” he then said, leaving the other shirt behind and heading to the cashier. You were glad he was over with the Quidditch Supplies store — you really had no interest in being there longer than necessary.

To be fair with Fred, he was being a very charming companion in the Hogsmeade trip, and he had even paid you a hot chocolate mug. Since students were bumping with you two all the time, the dating facade was still up and so, he was holding your hand around the village.

It was probably the first time since the whole thing started that you actually felt nervous about making physical contact with Fred. Perhaps it was because this trip (and the Christmas shopping thing) felt too personal, but you couldn’t be sure.

Well, actually, you didn’t want to be sure. You couldn’t have feelings for Fred — period. 

“Did you buy everything you wanted?” you asked Fred, a couple of hours later, because you were a bit tired of walking around, pilling up bags of gifts. But you didn’t want to be the one to admit.

“Huh, yes,” he answered, after checking out the bags he held. “Three Broomsticks?”

Shaking your head in an affirmative, you repositioned your own plastic bags while Fred waited for you, with his hand stretched. You swallowed hard a second before you felt the touch of it — although perhaps the high temperature was the fault of the gloves you both wore.

Why the hell could you feel an electric shock when touching him when there were literally layers of tissue separating both of you?

Fred walked in first, holding the door up for you, and, as you walked in, he offered to take your bags himself. You tried to protest, but he was very determined about it, and you were glad to be free of the extra weight.

It was then you saw George, sitting in a table not far away from the entrance. He was laughing cutely because the girl with him had gotten herself a moustache made of butterbeer.

Oh, and the girl was Angelina Johnson.

“Fred?” you called his name, unsure of what to do, but you definitely needed to take Fred away from there. He looked up from the bags on the floor. “Let’s go back to the castle; we can drink butterbeer later.”

Fred frowned, confused with why you changed your mood. “I’ll grab it really fast, [y/n], don’t worry.”

“No, Fred, I want to go back,” you tried to be firm.

“[y/n], nonsense; why...?” but he never finished his question. Instead of focusing on your face as he was doing before, he focused on what was happening behind you. 

And behind you, George and Angelina were having the time of their lives.

“Fred?” this time you called his name in a lower voice, scared of what his reaction. Well, or the lack of it, since he seemed frozen in time. “Freddie?”

The ginger boy shook his head as if he was getting rid of a bad taste in his throat. He finally met your eyes, and although he wasn’t exactly smiling, he didn’t look sad either.

“Sure you don’t want that butterbeer?” he asked, surprising you because or a) he was being very mature about the whole Angelina thing or b) he was hiding his feelings.

“Let’s get out of here,” you replied, not allowing him to suggest anything else since you took most of the bags on the floor and opened the door of the pub again.

If George noticed you two had walked in on his date, he never mentioned. 

You didn’t stop walking — and hoped Fred was doing the same — until you were back at the train station and inside one to get back to Hogwarts. Since the trip was quick, trains were coming and going all the time, and with a look at your wristwatch, you knew that the next one was leaving in just ten minutes.

It was only when you sat down that you decided to face Fred again, who, unbelievably still had the same expression on: neutral.

“Okay. Can we talk about what we just saw?”

“My twin on a date?” Fred raised a brow, his expression shifting to confusion, but there was no sign of anger on it.

“Your twin on a date with Angelina,” you corrected the boy, turning your whole body to face him. It was comfy because the bags were no longer in your hands, making every move extreme.

“Oh, that.”

“That, Fred. Aren’t you... angry? Disappointed? Anything?” you asked. You were supposed to be handling this calmly, but his lack of emotion was annoying your guts.

“George’s happy, so I’m happy. It’s that simple, actually,” Fred shrugged, avoiding your eyes for the first time that day.

“It’s not simple. You like her, Freddie,” you stated what should’ve been obvious for him.

Fred sighed, shrinking in his cushioned seat. He had been avoiding that talk, and it was not just since he saw his twin with Angelina.

He has been noticing his feelings for Angelina had changed, but he couldn’t point out how it changed, and why it did. He figured it was because of you, but that made no sense in his mind.

You weren’t supposed to be his type. You were nerdy and an avid reader (and read for fun, which he could never understand). You didn’t know anything about Quidditch, so you stayed away from the sport. You thought long before you acted, which was so different from him, who was always more emotion than reason.

Honestly, he didn’t even understand how he managed to keep his friendship with you for so many years. Of course, Fred was grateful to be your friend — after all, you had a questionable sense of humour that always fascinated the ginger, and even though you were afraid of being caught for it, you never denied help to him and his brother when a prank needed.

He knew that something could change in the dynamics of the two of you when he suggested being your fake boyfriend, but he didn’t think that the change would turn the relationship into something so much better.

Fred stared back at you, having no idea of what to say to you. He was afraid of rejection. And this time his fear seemed more potent than anything he ever felt before.

“I don’t like her anymore,” he simply said, still focused on your beautiful eyes.

His answer confused you. “Well, then why are we still dating?”

You noticed when you forgot to add the word “fake” in your sentence, but you were so done with that word that you shook that thought away.

“I don’t know,” Fred sighed, looking down at his hands over his lap.

You stared at him, not being able to believe the guy. You had lost three weeks for a boy that didn’t know what he was doing? Three weeks that you could have invested in finding a real boyfriend?

Your hands reached for your plastic bags, and as soon as the train stopped, you ran out of it. 

“[y/n]!” you heard Fred call you, but you didn’t dare look back.

++

“Didn’t see you and [y/n] in Hogsmeade. Did you guys leave early?” George asked when he sat down next to his twin in the common room. 

He had walked Angelina back to her dorm, and he decided to see if his twin was still around. George was never one to brag, but he really needed to vent to someone about how happy he was that he could finally be with the girl he wanted because Fred didn’t fancy her anymore.

Fred looked up to his other half and pressed his lips tight against one another. If he didn’t tell George, he would find out later, and he wouldn’t be happy.

“We broke up,” Fred simply said, biting his nails.

George’s eyes widened as he stared at his twin and he gulped nervously, not knowing how to proceed. His happiness was suddenly gone.

Fred didn’t get over Angie, and, once again, George would’ve to step away, leaving the path over to his twin. Damn it, George told himself, I really thought [y/n] was the one for him.

“Can I ask why?” George was still holding on to his hope.

“She...” Fred started, but he didn’t know if that was the right way to say it. “I...” he corrected himself, but it still sounded off. “Well, we weren’t really dating.”

George raised his brows. How come you weren’t really dating? Thinking about it now, I never saw them kissing, George reminded himself. But the way they looked at each other, the way Fred melts at her touch... How [y/n] blushes when Fred praises her... You two looked like a real couple for George.

“It was one of my stupidest ideas, but I went with it, and now I’ve lost a friend,” Fred complained, staring at his twin, hoping George had a solution. But the younger twin was as lost as Fred. “I was so dumb!”

“Fake-dating is always a dumb idea,” George pointed out, relaxing once again.

So Fred does fancy her, he though. But he screwed up.

It wasn’t like Fred could tell George the real reason behind why he suggested dating to you, but he could spin around the truth.

“I had a reason behind the whole thing, I just wasn’t expecting [y/n] to become more important to me than my initial reason,” explained Fred, sighing.

“I was. I mean, I would’ve,” George said, making Fred stare at him with confusion. “You always seemed to have a thing for her. I don’t know, perhaps just attraction?”

George saw that Fred was still lost, so he continued.

“Like, did you really need her to teach you Aguamenti for that prank on Filch two months ago? We had just learned it with Flitwick,” George used the first example that popped in his mind. “Or when you wanted to prank McGonagall so she would believe you were Dumbledore — you’re gonna tell me you didn’t know how to prepare a Polyjuice Potion?”

Fred gulped, suddenly feeling guilty. His twin was right — he never needed guidance with those simple spells and potions, but he ran for your help at any chance he had. Only now he knew it was because he wanted to be around you.

He reached for one of the cushions over the red couch and screamed on it. George found the scene hilarious.

“I’m screwed!”

++

It was the Sunday after the Hogsmeade trip, and even though every cell on your body wished to stay in bed, you knew that deep down you had no real reason to be mad and to feel heartbroken.

Your involvement with Fred was fake, and it was bound to be over from the beginning. You, better than all people, should know it. So there was no reason to stay curled up in bed, moaning about it.

But even if you knew you were bound to see Fred around the school, you weren’t expecting him to be outside of your common room entrance, as if he was expecting you to come out.

“Fred?” you had no idea why you said his name in that tone of surprise. Down, you knew he would come looking for you as soon as he had another prank planned.

His face lightened up when he heard his name coming from your lips. After his long talk with his twin last night, he started noticing you did, in fact, have a strong power over him, one that even you didn’t seem aware of.

“We went Christmas shopping yesterday, and I never gave you your gift,” he said, explaining himself, answering the question you didn’t dare ask.

“It’s not Christmas,” you said, a bit too quickly, “yet.”

“But it’s soon to be,” he raised a brow, stepping away from the wall he was leaned in and handing you a small box.

“How come I didn’t see you buy it?”

“Because I can be very sneaky when I want to,” he smiled. It was so easy for him to be happy around you.

“Hm,” his answer didn’t convince you, but you opened the box anyway, finding a beautiful golden necklace inside.

It had a small pendant on it — an initial, his initial. The golden “F” sparkled in your hands.

“Fred, wow,” the jewel made you speechless — you knew Fred wasn’t rich and you were almost sure that it was very expansive. “I can’t accept it, Freddie — we’re not dating anymore.”

Fred stopped your hands with his before you could return the necklace.

“I bought it for you.”

“It has your initial on it,” you pointed out.

“Yeah, I hoped to mark you as mine,” he smirked, deciding to be bold about the situation.

“We’re not dating,” you said, swallowing down your wish to forget that detail.

“But do you want to?” 

His question echoed in the passageway, but thankfully no one was around to disturb. You stared at the ginger, not believing he could actually be proposing what you heard.

“Fred...” you started, reminding yourself not to panic.

“I lied yesterday on the train. Not about Angelina — I do not fancy her,” he explained himself, stepping closer to you. “I lied about why I didn’t end or fake-relationship earlier. I didn’t do it because I couldn’t bear the thought of seeing you with someone else, making plans with another boy, holding hands with another guy.”

You gulped, but Fred didn’t seem ready to stop talking.

“I’ve never been as happy as I was during those three weeks you faked liking me,” he continued. “And being away from you will be the death of me. Please don’t turn the school prankster in the school bore,” of course he had to finish his charming speech with some cheeky sentence.

You couldn’t help but giggle, moving closer to him as well.

“I like you too, you idiot,” you smiled, holding tighter the jewel with just one hand.

“So... we’re dating again,” he smirked. “Only this time, I’m allowed to do this.”

Then, tugging you by the waist, he caught your lips in a kiss that would come to be the first of many.

[cafedanslanuit]

chapter guide | prev. chapter | next chapter

✖   —   chapter summary: Now that Zeke has explained what truly happened with Yelena, all your troubles have finally ended. Except that now you need to start avoiding Porco. However, things change once you overhear a conversation in the woman's bathroom.

✖   —   pairing: porco/reader & zeke/reader

✖   —   chapter tags/warnings: college au, descriptions of panic attacks, lots of self-doubt, gaslighting, hurt/comfort, fluff, referenced cheating. 

✖   —   a/n: i have posted the playlist that goes with this series! click here to check this post <3

chapter three: me and my husband

Porco looked at his cellphone, an ill sensation filling up his stomach as he read over and over your last messages. For the past few days, he had been trying to reach out to you but he had been rejected every time.

He knew something wrong was going on the moment you said you couldn’t make it to his lacrosse game. Ever since you became friends, you hadn’t missed a single game. He had once seen you finishing an essay on your phone and sending it while you were sitting on the bleachers, excited for the game to begin. He had seen you falling asleep on his shoulder during a party after a game, too tired from studying for a test that you took earlier.

Porco sighed. He wished he could find any other reason to explain your behaviour but the only one that came to his mind was his late night confession to you. He shouldn’t have told you he loved you. Now you were avoiding him and his feelings and he was scared he had lost your friendship completely.

He put the phone on his back pocket and grabbed his keys, heading to the parking lot. After getting into his car, he turned on the radio and drove out of the campus, entering the main highway of the city. He wasn’t sure where he was heading to, but all he knew is that he wanted to stop thinking about you, the moment he thought you had shared and the dry messages that followed.

He had really fucked it up.

…

 Sitting on your faculty’s corridor floor, you looked over at the texts Porco had been sending you the past week. It physically pained you to be so curt with someone that meant so much to you. Porco had always been there for you, even in the times you had told him you really didn’t need him. He cared when you got sick, when you were sad and also when you wanted company to crash a party on campus. You two had been inseparable since the day you met and he was already acquaintances with Annie and Armin due to all the time he had spent at your place.

This was the right thing to do, you told yourself one more time, closing your Instagram. You were taking the right decision. Porco had fallen in love with you and then had tried to make you think your boyfriend had cheated on you. If Zeke hadn’t pointed that out for you, you probably wouldn’t have noticed until it was too late. Truly, you were lucky Zeke had been understanding about the whole situation and had forgiven you for not trusting in him.

Porco wasn’t a bad person. You knew in your heart he wasn’t. But you had been wrong to trust he had your best interest in his mind.

That’s what didn’t make sense. Why had Porco, sweet and caring Porco had suddenly decided to put you against Zeke only just because he had caught feelings for you? The Porco you knew wouldn’t have done that. If he truly only wanted to drive you away from Zeke, he would have let you kiss him the night he spent with you. He would have taken the opportunity, right? So, why didn’t he?

Your head started hurting.

Your thumb ghosted over Porco’s contact on your phone, wondering whether to call him or not. You missed him dearly and knew that if you asked him to be honest, he would. There were countless moments in the past where he had been honest with you, from the time he confessed to accidentally stepping on your foundation powder and the time he opened up about his father’s death.

He’ll say anything to make you doubt your relationship with me.

Zeke’s voice resonated in your ears and you bit your tongue. He was right. You needed to remember Porco was trying to put you against your boyfriend.

Before you could think of a counterargument, you shot a quick text to Zeke. Yes. A day with your boyfriend would help you keep your mind busy.

“wanna hang out later? <3”

You watched intently, a small smile on your face as the three dots twinkled on your screen. Zeke’s answer came a few seconds later.

“Can’t. Exam tomorrow :(“

He then sent you a picture of a couple of books over a table that you recognized as the university’s library. He also had the tumbler you had given him a couple of months ago, filled with straight black coffee if you had to take a guess.

“:(( okaaaay, good luck on your exam, love u!”

“<3”

You put your phone away and sighed. You missed Zeke too. The few days after you had confronted him about the time you thought you saw Yelena and him kissing, he had showered you with love. You had spent the weekend at his place wearing nothing but an old t-shirt of his and making love several times a day. You snuggled to him on the couch as he watched an old documentary and playfully took the cigar from his lips and took a puff yourself. ‘Ladies like you shouldn’t smoke,’ he had said playfully as he took it back from your lips and then pressed a kiss on your temple.

Nevertheless, the short honeymoon phase after you made up had come to an end. You knew it was going to happen, but now your body and heart were craving more of him and his classes were taking all his time. If it wasn’t an exam it was a group project or a study session and even if you knew seniors had it way harder than you, you missed him. Missed his beard scratching your neck, his strong cologne and his deep chuckle whenever you managed to make him smile.

Maybe you could walk around the mall. You still had some birthday money and you could treat yourself a little. Maybe a new body cream or a pair of cute underwear from Victoria Secret to surprise your boyfriend after he was done with his classes. Yes, a shopping trip was exactly what you needed to stop thinking so much. Smiling, you walked to the bathroom of your faculty, just a quick detour to freshen up before you got into your car. 

You looked at yourself in the mirror and took out your lipstick, fixing it carefully.

“I fucking hate her.”

You turned around as you saw three girls entering the bathroom. They stood by your side, none of them seeming to notice your presence. One of them fixing her hair, another was looking down at her phone, eyebrows knitted together and mumbling more and more curses and the last one just leaned against the bathroom stalls, arms crossed against her chest as she watched the other two.

“We did tell you she wasn’t meant to be trusted,” she reminded the girl with the phone. When she raised her head, you recognized her as Pieck, one of Porco’s close friends, who you had seen around at a lot of parties and on many of his Instagram photos.

“How is that helping me?” Pieck asked icily.

“I’m just saying, Yelena is shady. Telling you all that crap about only being able to open up with you— and for what? For her to post photo after photo of her fuckboy?” the girl in front of the mirror said. “Like, nobody needs to know you’re getting it at the library, why post about it? Literally, nobody cares.”

“She’s not worth it,” the other girl interjected. 

“She really isn’t, babe. And Zeke isn’t even that hot,” her friend continued with a mocking laugh. “The one that looks like a clown is her, not you. Just let it go.”

“He truly is a bad case of the monkey face,” Pieck agreed with a snort. “Men like that are what keep me a lesbian.”

“Hi Pieck,” you greeted her. For the first time, Pieck looked your way and widened her eyes, recognizing you in an instant.

“Hey,” she said in an apologetic voice. “I— I’m sorry. Shouldn’t have said that.”

You faked a chuckle. “It’s okay. I just wanted to say you shouldn’t worry about them, Yelena is—”

“Yeah, yeah, we both shouldn’t worry. You’re probably trying to move on and ignore them too,” Pieck sighed and then pursed her lips in discomfort. “But I know you were Zeke’s girlfriend for a while, it’s normal you don’t want to hear about who he’s fucking now—”

“Zeke and I are still together,” you interrupted her.

Pieck’s face fell at your words. She looked at her friends, who were also looking at each other with an indecipherable expression. Your furrowed your eyebrows, confused as to why they were sharing those glances. Why would they think you weren’t with Zeke? Sure, you hadn’t posted photos with him lately but that didn’t mean you weren’t together anymore.

“I’ll catch up with you in a bit,” Pieck said softly to her friends. They nodded and said they would be by the cafeteria before leaving. Once they went away, Pieck closed the bathroom door and walked to you again.

“Why— why would you think we’re not together?” you insisted, your voice trembling more than you would have wanted.

“Yelena and Zeke are fucking,” she sentenced in a soft voice. You shook your head.

“I know that’s what it looks like but Yelena likes women,” you said. “You— I mean you guys were dating or something, right? You know she’s a lesbian, she’s just pretending to have something with Zeke so her parents back off for a while.”

Pieck’s silence was deafening.

“Right?” you pushed. “It’s cool because she’s a lesbian and—”

“Yelena is bisexual.”

You paused, blinking as you tried to understand. After a few seconds, you shook your head.

“She’s not.”

“The reason we’re not dating anymore is because I saw her fucking Zeke at a party,” she explained.

“No,” you said, and shook your head once more. “No, because if it happened at a party then someone would have seen them. Someone would have noticed, there would have been rumours, I would have  known . Pieck, someone would have told me, Reiner, Marcel, Porco—”

“They weren’t there. Almost everyone was a senior.”

“Then you! You would have told me,” you cried. “You’re telling me you saw my boyfriend fucking someone else and didn’t tell me!? Pieck—!”

“I thought you weren’t together anymore!” she defended herself. “What was I supposed to think when every single one of his friends at that shitty apartment knew he was fucking her in the bedroom and they all acted like it was a normal thing to do? I see all these photos of both of them and…” she continued, shaking her phone. “Of course I think he’s not with you anymore! Yelena is uploading pictures as she rests her legs on his lap, about their movie dates at his place and you want me to think she has a girlfriend!?”

Tears started falling from your eyes as she spoke. You sniffled, trying to compose yourself but you could feel every muscle of your body shaking.

“Does Porco know?” you asked in a whisper.

“Porco?”

“I know you two are best friends since high school. You— you had to tell him. If this was real, if this happened, you had to tell Porco,” you reasoned. “So tell me, Pieck, does Porco know?” you insisted, raising your voice, hating the way it cracked at the end.

Pieck shook her head. “I told him Yelena cheated on me, didn’t tell him with who.”

“Why?”

“Because he told me not to date Yelena, said she wasn’t a good person. I didn’t want to prove Porco right, you know him,” Pieck said with a small shrug.

You nodded idly, your eyes lost. No. It didn’t make sense, it didn’t— even if it did. It did make sense but it  couldn’t make sense. Because if Pieck was right, if Yelena and Zeke were—

No.

“Give me a date,” you whispered.

“What?”

“When was this?”

“I don’t— Two weeks ago?”

“I need to know the exact date, Pieck.”

“Girl, I don’t remember exactly, I—”

“Give me a date, Pieck!” you sobbed, raising your voice. She sighed and nodded, taking out her phone.

You watched as Pieck went through her messages with Yelena, scrolling up as she tried to remember the date. Your breath was hitching, inhaling more than you were exhaling but you didn’t care. You wanted to know when it was. Pieck was going to tell you it happened on a date where he was with you. She was going to say it happened one of the nights you and Zeke stayed the weekend at his place and then you would know she’s lying. Yes, that was going to happen. She would tumble over her own lie and this nightmare would be over.

“March 31st,” Pieck murmured. “I kept texting her, asking where she was before I went to look for her,” she reminisced, before showing you her phone.

.

.

                                                            00:36

. 

                                                                                           lena where are u

                                                                                                            ?????

                                          why are my friends saying you’re with zeke rn

                                                                                         yelena answer me

                                                                                    fuck u i’m going there

                                                            01:19

 .

                                                FUCK YOU YELENA YOURE THE WORST

                                                                  PIECE OF SHIT IVE EVER MET

                                                                            REALLY???? ZEKE?????

                                                                           HOPE YOU GET HERPES

                                                                                 I FUCKING HATE YOU

babe, i’m sorry

can we talk?

.

. 

A bitter taste crept inside your mouth as you took out your phone and went through yours and Zeke’s messages, looking desperately for the date. It was the weekend you spent together. It had to be. The memories of Zeke’s kitchen calendar that said April were lying to you. It had to be March. Or maybe he changed the calendar because he was with you on March 31st.

You scrolled up until March and went to read the messages exchanged on that day.

.

.

                                                            07:23

.

Good morning! I know it’s really early

But I want to see you today <3

Meet me at the tennis court?

                                                                                  sure, i’ll take an uber :)

.

.

Silent sobs escaped your mouth as your phone started shaking in your trembling hands. Pieck whispered apologies and you wanted nothing more than to tell her to shut up, that it wasn’t her fault, that she wasn’t the one that swore she wanted to marry you and then went to fuck someone else at a party, not caring if he was seen or not.

But it wasn’t true. Zeke said it was just a ruse, that Yelena just wanted to hide her queerness, that they were just good friends. He said so. Pieck had to be lying, she had to be. She was just messing with you, lying to see how much you could believe her. Because Zeke wouldn’t do that, you were the one he trusted, you were the one he was going to marry, you—

Pieck was still holding her phone in front of you.

With the very same date.

And Yelena admitting her crime.

But it couldn't be right. There had to be a mistake because Zeke loved you. He loved you and he had told you about his family, he had taken you to meet his grandparents, he promised he hadn’t kissed Yelena that night, he—

Had he not kissed her?

Was it only a movie night?

…

No, it hadn’t.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Pieck’s voice sounded far, your lips parted as you tried to gasp for air. You lifted your head and saw her lips moving but you couldn’t hear any sound but your heart beating out of your chest. Tingles started creeping on your fingers and without you being able to do anything to prevent it, you dropped your phone on the bathroom floor.

Why didn’t it make a sound?

Why were your fingers numb?

You lifted your head and Pieck was gone. Dismissing her sudden disappearance, you crouched down and picked your phone. You winced at the huge crack on your screen and slid your finger several times over it until you could press on Zeke’s contact and call him.

As his phone rang, you pressed your back on the wall, slowly sinking until you were sitting on the floor.

“Baby, I told you I was studying for this test, I can’t—”

“I know about you and Yelena,” you said in a broken voice. You heard him let out an annoyed sigh on the other line.

“Didn’t we talk about this already? I told you she’s not—”

“I know about the party. The day we played baseball and— that same night you went to a party and fucked her,” you sobbed. You wiped the tears on your face with the back of your hand. “Zeke, tell me it’s a lie, tell me you didn’t do this, please,  please  tell me you didn’t really fuck Yelena,” you begged. “Please.”

“You know what? Get some help. Like, psychological help. This isn’t normal.”

The silence after Zeke hung up choked you. Your chest rose up and down as you sobbed uncontrollably. Your brain was screaming. Loudly. ‘Make it stop,’ you told yourself. ‘Get it together. Make it stop.’

Make it stop.

                         Make it stop.

                                                 Make it stop.

                                                                         Make it stop.

                                                                                                 Make it stop.

 It’s a lie.

                                                                                                  Make it stop.

He lied to you.

                                                                                                              Stop.

He fucked her.

                                                                                                 Please, stop.

He lied.

                                                                                              I can’t breathe.

.

.

                                             Inhale.

                                                                            Exhale.

                                            Inhale.

                                                                            Exhale.

                                            Inhale.

                                                            Inhale. 

                                                            Inhale. 

                                                            Inhale.

.

.

…

When you woke up, Porco was there.

Your head felt heavy as you tried to sit up, rubbing your eyes. A quick look around let you know you were in your apartment but you weren’t sure as to  how , or why your friend was there, his phone on his lap and his eyes looking at you filled with worry.

He whispered your name as if his voice could hurt you. “How are you feeling?”

“What are you doing here?” you asked groggily. You noticed your throat was hurting as well. “What hour is it?” you mumbled as you palmed your jean pockets looking for your phone. You found it hidden between two pillows and pressed the power button, trying to see if you had any unread messages.

None.

“Pieck called me,” Porco explained. “And it’s eight and a half.”

Pieck. Pieck with her friends in the bathroom, Pieck with the text messages. Everything came back to you in a second and you couldn’t help but wince at the way your head hurt.

“How are you feeling?” he insisted. You took a deep breath. The small movement made you realize how much the muscles of your back were hurting along with your arms. You licked your lips, hating how dry they felt against your tongue.

“I broke my phone.”

Porco furrowed his eyebrows. “What?”

“I— I dropped it. There’s a crack on the screen.”

He nodded slowly and looked down at his shoes, his forearms resting on his knees. You could almost listen to his loud thoughts, one coming after another inside his head. Porco sighed and turned his head back to you.

“Want me to get it fixed? Marcel knows a guy, I’m sure he can get it done by tomorrow.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s working just fine,” you said, passing your thumb over the crack. “No need to change it.”

Porco watched your eyes get lost on the dark screen and tightened his lips. He had the urge to throw your phone out of your window, make you understand you had to leave it, that it wasn’t good for you, that you didn’t need it, that you didn’t need  him —

Instead, he nodded.

“What happened?” you asked.

Porco paused, deliberating his words before speaking. “Pieck called and told me what you guys talked about and that… you didn’t take it well. She said you were crying and— that you had a panic attack, so she left the bathroom to look for help. She found Armin and he was the one that helped you regain your breath. Once you settle down, he called Annie to tell her what happened and she picked you up. When I got here you were already asleep on the couch, Annie said it was okay if I waited here.”

“I… don’t remember much,” you confessed with a grimace. “I don’t remember Armin helping me out. I— I do remember what Pieck and I talked about, though. Wish I could forget it instead,” you snorted. 

“Wanna talk about it?”

You shook your head.  Ouch . Why did every muscle of your body hurt so much?

“Wanna watch some shitty reality TV?” he offered. He didn’t miss the way a small smile appeared on your face.

In a matter of minutes, Porco had gone into your room and brought your laptop, and started looking for the show on Netflix. He put your laptop on his thighs and let you crawl by his side, your head resting against his shoulder.

“Wish they had Ink Master,” you sighed, as the intro of Netflix’s newest reality show played on your screen.

“We both know Netflix doesn’t have good shows.”

You snorted. “Black Mirror is good.”

“And yet we’re watching The Circle,” Porco teased you.

“Weren’t you the one that binged Season 1 on one night and then asked me to do the same so you could rant?” you reminded him with a playful tone.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied nonchalantly, making you chuckle.

What followed next was a comfortable silence. One episode went by and Porco made no attempts to stop it from automatically playing the second episode. You snuggled closer, the fabric of his green jacket feeling nice against your cheek. How long had it been since you felt so much peace with someone else by your side?

In any other situation, you would be commenting on it, pressing pause just to bitch and rant about the contestants or make quick runs to the kitchen. But Porco was sitting still, his eyes fixed on the screen and his arms crossed in front of his chest. He was trying to comfort you the best way he could, knowing any words would fail, he aimed to create a safe space for you and not force you to behave normally when you both knew better than to completely ignore what had happened earlier.

Right. Zeke.

You felt your eyes watering and bit the inside of your cheek to prevent them from falling down. Focusing on your breath, you inhaled and exhaled rhythmically until the knot in your throat seemed to loosen up. Your feelings towards Zeke were confusing, a part of you wanting to run, look for him and demand an explanation. Another part of you wanted to face with, punch his stupid little face until you got tired and leave him on the floor. And another, maybe a bigger part of you wanted him to cradle you in his strong arms, kiss your temple and scratch your skin with his beard as he whispered sweet nothings to you.

You swallowed. Maybe Zeke was right. Maybe you did need psychological help.

Could you trust his words if he were to provide another explanation? Could you ever trust in him again? Most of all, could you trust yourself? Many voices had different opinions inside your head, yet they all agreed on something.

You were miserable.

“Every time I’m not with him, I’m anxious,” you mumbled, the words leaving your mouth before you thought them over. Porco moved his hand to pause the show, but you gestured to him not to. “And when he’s with me…” you continued, “I feel like I’m drowning.”

Your voice cracked at the end. Porco’s hand twitched, not sure what to do next. Should he hold you, put an arm around your shoulder to comfort you? Should he not move a muscle until you were done? Should he offer a word of comfort? He turned his head to you and noticed tears were silently streaming down your face.

“If Zeke was in front of me right now and told me Pieck lied her ass off, even after all the proof she showed me today… I would believe him. I would,” you sobbed. “And I hate myself so much for it. I’m so tired of this, I’m so tired of loving him, Pock.”

Porco’s hand cupped your head, his fingers gently caressing your hair. You snuggled closer to him, his perfume soothing the pain inside your heart and his gentle gesture comforting you. That was the magic Porco had. You knew he wasn’t always good with his words and most of the time he preferred to show rather than tell and boy, did he do a spectacular good job at showing you how much he cared.

He was there. Even after you had been ignoring him for over two weeks, he was here with his green jacket and his earthy-scented perfume ready to hold you if you needed him. And you did. You could never think of a moment where you wouldn’t want him to be there with you. 

You wiped your face with the back of your hand and reluctantly pulled away from his touch, turning on your seat so you were facing him. You paused your show and put a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Thank you,” you said, biting down your bottom lip. “For being here and waiting until I woke up. I— I’ve been such a bad friend to you,” you sighed. “I’m so sorry, I just—”

Porco shook his head. “No. I’m sorry for what I said the night I stayed here.”

“No, you don’t need to— I mean— I wasn’t mad about it,” you fumbled with your words, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“I don’t know,” Porco shrugged. “Felt like I made you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t,” you assured him. “Thank you for staying with me that night. I really didn’t want to be alone.”

“I just— Can I say something else? Promise this is the last time I talk about it.” You nodded. “I didn’t love you the first time I met you,” he blurted, shrugging. “I mean, it’s not like I saw you and caught feelings— first time I saw you you were drunk off your ass at Reiner’s party. I was your friend first. Still am, nothing will change that. And honestly? I wouldn’t be surprised if my feelings went away,” he chuckled. “Who knows. Might finally meet someone else and fall for them.”

“Yeah, maybe you’ll meet someone,” you agreed with a strained smile.

“Whatever happens, know that before anything else, I’m your friend,” Porco said, golden eyes setting on yours. “And that will never change. You’re stuck with me.”

“And you’re stuck with me.”

“See any other reason why I’m watching a shitty reality show on a Tuesday night?”

At this, you hit Porco with one of the pillows, square on his face. You couldn’t help but laugh at his stunned face.

“You’re  so  fucked,” he said, putting the laptop on the coffee table in front of him.

You took this as a sign to run, the ache in your muscles forgotten at the back of your head as you tried to dodge the pillows Porco was throwing at you. Your legs weren’t weak anymore, as you quickly jumped to avoid the furniture and picked up one of the pillows to throw it back at him. Your heart was no longer aching, but jumping as you cackled when Porco tripped and fell. Even if your eyes were watering again, this time was due to the excessive laughter. And yes, your breath was hitching but it was thanks to Porco chasing you around the living room.

You let yourself fall on the floor next to Porco, the coldness of the floor soothing your skin as he dramatically held his knee against his chest like an injured soccer player. You turned your head to him, smiling at his antics as he filled your heart with happiness once  more.

Maybe that had been his power all along.