#scheduling this for later so that you may forget and then i can dig it back up

[echinocereus]

thoughts and prayers

need to kiss ialai with tongue I think

[sl-newsie]

American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 10: Equality vs Justice

Later that night we hold dinner for two hours before I finally decide to stop waiting for the Shelby brothers to return. Finn left to help about an hour ago and it’s just been Polly and me preparing Shepherd’s pies. When I tell her about Ada’s behavior she gets a funny look in her eye.

“I’ve got some suspicions. For now I’ll wait for Ada to come to me but my patience is wearing thin. She’s been avoiding me.”

A few more minutes go by and I check the clock. “Do you always wait for them to come back this late? If I were to stay out unaccompanied like this my mother would personally kill me.”

Polly laughs as she stirs the filling. “With those boys nothing is ever normal. Between John worrying about his family, Arthur wanting to be smarter than he is, and Thomas thinking he knows everything, I sometimes wonder how they can even function.”

“And Finn?”

She sighs heavily. “I hope he’ll turn out straight. He tries so hard to be like his brothers that sometimes we forget he’s still just a kid. How’s his lessons been going?”

I wipe my flower-covered hands on a towel. “No complaints at all, ma’am. Finn’s a prime student. He definitely has potential and dedication, though I’m glad to say he does not share his brother’s lack of resilience. Finn always has an open mind, which I think is inspired by his sister.”

We hear the front door open and all four Shelby brothers crowd into the room, all taking their places at the kitchen table. I can tell they’ve been drinking due to the smell of liquor but they seem to be level-headed enough. I just hope Finn hasn’t drank too much.

“How was the bonfire?” I ask lightly as I pass out a tray of slightly-cold pies.

“Affective.” 

Thomas is the only one to reply as they all dig into the simple meal. No doubt they’re tired. Finn is the only one that still shows any hint of ignorance. In these insane times a touch of ignorance might not be so bad.

“I got to leave early,” John says after he swallows. “Kids’ll be wanting their dad to tuck ‘em in.”

“Ever considered a sitter?” I ask.

Arthur slurs a laugh. “Ha! Yeah, so we can pay you double? Watch his tykes and teach Finn, ey?”

I shake my head and try to defend his accusation but John waves it off.

“‘S alright, Steenstra. I don’t expect you to. You’ve got enough on your plate as it is. I need a more stable solution.”

Thomas speaks up. “You need a wife, John.” He gets up and comes over to search through the cupboard. “Polly, where are those biscuits-?”

“In the refrigerator,” John says. “Though there may not be many left. Verena’s a damn good baker.”

“All the more reason why my decision to hire her has paid off well,” Polly comments. “Which is why you lot should treat her as the proper Peaky Blinders employee she is, Arthur.” She points a warning finger at the eldest Shelby brother, who just rolls his eyes.

“Respect is earned,” I reply. “Since my position is temporary I don’t expect to gain anything before-”

“Before you go back,” Finn grunts. “You’ve mentioned it once or twice.”

Thomas ruffles his brother’s hair. “Hear that, Verena? Someone’s gonna miss you.”

Finn swats his hand away. “I will not!”

“I will,” John says as he chews another cookie. “Without her there’s no biscuits.”

The brothers go on chatting about other Blinders business and I take the chance to finish cleaning part of the kitchen before slipping off to bed. It’s already midnight and my eyes are starting to droop. I don’t even bother thinking about reading as I dim the lights and slip under the covers…

“Clocking out early?” Thomas’ voice stirs me from my thoughts. He’s standing in the doorway.

“It’s midnight, Mr. Shelby. If I did have an established work schedule my shift would have ended hours ago.”

The man simply nods his head and walks over to look out my window. “Dinner was nice. And I know John’s exaggerated this already but your biscuits are to die for.”

In the dark I stand up to face him better. “Trying to butter me up with a compliment before delivering unpleasant news?”

Thomas’ reaction is covered by the shadows. “Only giving a compliment, Ms. Steenstra. I must say I’m surprised at how much you’ve changed around here.”

I tilt my head. “I haven’t changed much in the house besides my cooking-”

“I mean us,” Thomas gestures towards the kitchen. “You might not see it but you do more than what you think, Verena. And Finn will miss you, by the way.” He pauses. “Most all of us will miss you.”

“Most?”

“Well… Arthur’s still undecided about me hiring you.”

I nod respectfully. “I’m still grateful for your trust. In my family it’s a high honor for younger members to be part of something this big.”

Something I say doesn’t sit well with Thomas. His laid-back expression shifts to one of curiosity.

“Members? What kind of family are you part of, Steenstra?”

I slipped up. He suspects my involvement with the mob. 

“Like I said before. I’m half Dutch, half Irish. My father runs a chain of breweries.”

“And are there any business deals made under the table away from federal eyes?” Thomas inquires.

I keep a steady expression. “Do not accuse my father of bootlegging, Mr. Shelby. All his transactions are thoroughly legal.”

It’s not a lie. Father’s refused several proposals from Uncle Colon about selling his products to the Irish mobs. Thankfully my answer persuades Thomas to drop the subject.

“Your father seems like a good man. He raised a bright and resourceful daughter.” Thomas steps closer and I can smell the mint cologne and ash on him. “Good night, Ms. Steenstra.”

“Good night, Thomas. Prayers be with you.”

The gangster nods and exits the room, taking the chill of the conversation with him. That was close. At this point I’ve gone too far to confess to my family connections. The Shelbys trust me as myself, not as a mob asset. As I lay down once again to catch some sleep I can’t help but wonder if my family’s noticed I’m missing…

I open my eyes to a brand-new day and quickly get dressed. Now that I have my own clothing with English fashion I don’t feel like an oddball. It’s already 10:00. Much later than I wanted to start but there’s no use crying about it. I walk into the kitchen and am not surprised to find out that Thomas and his brothers have already left.

“Morning, love,” Polly greets from the table. “Finn’s running an errand and then you can do a lesson. He seemed eager to get back so you should expect him soon. The only other one who’s here is Ada.”

As if on cue, the Shelby sister walks into the room and slumps into the chair next to Polly.

“Good of you to join us.” Polly remarks as Ada pours some tea. “Where have you been all day?”

“In bed,” the brunette replies, sharing knowing glances with me. Sure. ‘Bed.’ “Couldn’t sleep. Then I couldn’t wake up.”

She goes on to ramble about dreams while Polly chats about recent bad news. It’s not until I hear Polly abruptly say “stand up” that I look up from the novel I’m reading. Ada does as she’s told and Polly walks around examining her, then suddenly feels up her chest.

“Polly what are you doing?” Ada shouts.

“Ada. How late are you?”

Her words take a moment to drift in the air, then it clicks in my head. You play stupid games, you win stupid prizes. It was only a matter of time before Ada’s affair would catch up with her. She’s pregnant.

“One week- 5 weeks- seven weeks, but it must be a lack of iron…” Ada desperately tries to patch up an excuse.

But Polly won’t have it. “I’m taking you to the doctor.” She gives Ada a stern look to quiet her then glances over at me. “Verena, love, it’s best you not tell a soul if you know what’s good for you. You can wait here for Finn while I take her.”

Hiding my face behind my book cover, I nod. “Yes, ma’am.”

Polly nods and drags Ada out of the room. Ada gives me one last panicked look before the pair walks through the front door. Don’t expect sympathy from me. You know what you were getting yourself into. I sit quietly at the table and continue reading until the door opens again and Finn walks in.

“Where’s Aunt Polly?”

Not a word about Ada. “She had something come up. Didn’t say when she’d be back.” I try to reroute the conversation. “What do you want to learn about today?”

Finn joins me at the table and sets down a new book. “I found this at the library. Before you say anything-” He points a finger at me. “No, I don’t agree with Tommy about using public resources. I like the library.” He holds the book up for me to see. “I found this today and was hoping you might know about it?”

The book is one I’ve never heard of before but the topic looks enticing. “You want to learn about equality and justice?”

“Yeah. We deal with social concepts like them all the time in the family business.”

“That you do, Finn. If only others would share your willingness to learn.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Thomas’ voice asks from behind.

Of course he’s here. I turn around to find the blue-eyed gangster leaning against the counter with an amused smirk.

“Good morning, Thomas. Care to join us?”

“Depends. Will I like what I hear?” 

I raise a brow. “Depends. Does talk of justice bother you? You Shelbys seem to admire it.”

Thomas doesn’t answer verbally. Instead he slowly walks over to sit next to Finn. I take that as my cue to begin.

“Equality is the state of being equal, regardless of background or social status.”

“So socialism, then,” Thomas says.

“Please hold all comments for after the lesson, Mr. Shelby. As I was saying, justice is the concept of what is fair. What is right and what is deserved.”

“That sounds like the same thing as equality,” Finn says, confused.

“Think of it like this, Finn. Imagine two people watching a horse race from behind a fence. They’re each too short to see over the top. In a scenario when equality is involved, each person is given a crate to stand on. However one person is still too short to see over. In a scenario with justice, the fence would be removed to allow both people to see.”

Both Shelbys take in my words with consideration. However our lesson is interrupted when Arthur bursts through the door.

“Tommy, where’ve you been? Been looking for you in the Bull Ring and you’re here being lectured by the American?”

I suppress the urge to argue. Thankfully I don’t have to because Thomas does the work for me.

“She’s got a name, Arthur. Verena’s a Peaky Blinders employee so she’ll be treated as such. We were just finishing a lesson with Finn.”

The oldest Shelby brother takes little notice to apologize and motions for Thomas to follow him. Probably more urgent business than a lecture.

“That’s enough for today, Finn.”

He gives a disappointed sigh. “Thanks, Verena.”

The rest of the day ticks by and I do my best to make the time pass faster while I wait for Ada and Polly to return. The sound of the door opening alerts me to look up from my book and see the two sit down on the couch across from me, both holding cigarettes.

“You’re pregnant, and you’re smoking?! What is wrong with you?”

“Quiet!” Polly hisses. “I’ll talk to Tommy about it later but for now no one knows. Understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She nods. “Good. How was Finn today?”

How can she expect me to ignore this blessing? “Ambitious as usual. Is the baby healthy?”

“So far so good,” Ada assures me. “Have you been stuck inside all day? You should get some fresh air.”

Come to think of it, I am getting a little antsy. Some time outdoors would do me some good. Polly and Ada probably need to discuss the situation more thoroughly with privacy.

“Good idea, Ada. I think I’ll step out back and take a stroll in the alley. I won’t stray far.”

After picking out a hat to block out what little sun there is I see Polly approach me with a pistol.

“For protection.”

I take it graciously and slip it into my skirt pocket. “How did you know I know how to shoot one?”

She gives me a subtle wink. “Intuition.”

The moment I open the back door I’m welcomed by a gust of ash and dirt. Today’s much windier than normal and is not in my favor. But beggars can’t be choosers. I should stretch my legs before I develop cabin fever. The pistol's weight pressing against my leg serves as a reminder that I can defend against any unwanted violence.

Just as I step into the alley and wander into the nearby street the sound of hooves signals for me to peek around the corner. Thomas is back, and he’s riding his new white horse. The horse almost looks out of place here, with the whole ‘gloom and doom’ atmosphere. Thomas halts the horse and dismounts, gently stroking the animal’s nose.

“Seems to me like you treat horses like people and people like snakes.”

Thomas rolls his eyes but takes the comment all in good fun. “Yeah, yeah. The humanity in me is dead.” He pats the horse and ties him to a nearby hitching post. “On another note, I just talked with Grace. I’m taking her to the races later this week.”

My thoughts come to an abrupt stop, like a freight train tumbling off a twisted track. Why? Why do I feel so… disappointed? It only makes sense that Thomas would ask her out. Grace is pretty and kind. He’ll only ever think of me as an employee, so at least he trusts me enough with his family’s business.

“Oh. That sounds fun,” I try to sound encouraging. “Are the races here exciting?”

“They never disappoint, love. Ever been to one?”

I shake my head and stroke the horse’s mane. “My father never lets me go to the races. Says it’s not ladylike.” Another thought surfaces. “What did you think of today’s lesson?”

The gangster scoffs and takes off his cap to run a hand through his hair. “I think part of that lecture was directed at me.”

“Oh really?”

“Really. You want me to reconsider my mindset of establishing justice, eh?”

Honestly I didn’t plan for the topic to hint at Thomas’ mindset but he makes a good point. “You have heart, Thomas. But you can’t act as life’s judge, jury, and executioner. It’s not always about what people deserve. It can be about what they need. No, they may not always want what they need. But God’s plans aren’t spelled out for everyone.”

Thomas looks over at me with a happy smile. “Keep that hope alive, Verena. We all need it.”

His praise causes me to smile too. Besides being a teacher I’m also on the good side of one of the fiercest gangsters in England all because I speak my mind.

But the moment is gone when Thomas reaches for a cigarette and I see something fall out of his pocket. I bend down to pick it up and dust off the ash to reveal a gleaming silver and bronze bullet with the markings Tommy etched into it.

“Thomas, what is this?”

My boss takes a puff of his cigarette. “Oh. That. ‘S just a gift from the Lee family.”

This is no gift, this is a threat! I’ve heard of threats like this from Uncle Colon and they are no light matter. How is he so calm?

“They’ve signed your death warrant, Thomas. The bullet literally has your name on it!”

But Thomas doesn’t share my worry. Instead he chuckles and puts both hands on my shoulders. “No need to worry, love. I’ll handle it.’S not the first time I’ve gotten a death threat. Now,” he rubs his hands together and starts walking towards the Shelby house. “Where’s Polly? I’ve got a few questions for her.”

Oh. Right. And he doesn’t know about Ada yet.

“Last I saw she was in the living room.” Lord, I do not want to hear this!

I follow him inside and briskly walk back to hide in the kitchen, where Finn has settled to do some reading. He is also smoking a cigarette!

“Finn! Not you too!” I throw my arms up in defeat. “Am I the only one who thinks smoking is a death wish?”

He just shrugs and continues reading. I don’t hear a reaction from the other room but after a few minutes Polly walks in with a determined look.

“I just told Tommy.”

“About Ada?” I ask softly.

“Yes.”

“What’d he say?”

Polly sets out the kettle and begins brewing tea. “Nothing. He just stormed out to find her. The instant Ada spills his name, he’s a dead man. Thomas won’t stand for it.”

I don’t blame him. If I were to ever try something like that my brothers would kill any man who looks at me in cold blood. All I can hope is that Thomas goes easy on the poor bloke.

[idolish7imagines]

I know I made a request already >_< Like, I still hoping for more Momo content ^_^ So: Momo x reader, fluffy, really fluffy I am still struggling and want some fluff

fluff scenario yes. I don't care the context, comfort, fluff, I would like some warm, happy feelings please. Thank you so much! I love your writing, like Re:purpose is my favorite fanfiction atm xD

::Momo x Reader :: Romantic Getaway

A/N: here's your momo fluff I hope you like it!

.::.

"It seems we've gotten to a crossroads." Momo puts a thoughtful finger up to his chin, deep in thought..

By that he meant you guys had been tied at Monopoly for the past hour.

"Alright, I guess we'll have to settle the score some other time!" He chuckles, as the both of you start gathering the pieces to put it in the box.

The idol stands up with a big stretch, almost akin to a cat making a satisfied expression once they stretch their paws and body across the floor. You had been sitting on the floor for a while now, but not wanting to lie on any surprise monopoly pieces when you two head to bed later, you decided the floor was the better option for your game.

Thankfully this wasn't his house though, it was a guest room suite you two had been staying in for the past week for your honeymoon trip.

Momo begged and pleaded (almost too dramatically, nearly shedding tears but this is Momo we're talking about) to Okarin and his brother to clear his schedule so he could spend his time as a newlywed properly. He ended up finding this nice getaway resort not too far so he'd be able to get back to the city to continue his work as soon as he returns.

The weather wasn't too cold or hot, there were plenty of things to do so you wouldn't get bored, and most importantly, no one recognized him; it was perfect.

He may have been planning this even before you got married, but that isn't important right now.

"Lets find something else to do, I'm not sleepy yet!" He lazily puts his hands behind his neck, sitting cross-legged with a slight rock. Despite that, the both of you were wearing pajamas.

Earlier, You'd had a nice bath together and played some table tennis that he was surprisingly good at along with some other activities the resort offered.

After a quick digging through the drawers beside the bed, you pulled out a magazine with a couple on the cover of it hugging each other. The black-white haired idol scoots over to your side to peek over your shoulder, equally curious.

"Ooo, couples exercises huh?"

"I don’t think we need those, it says its for couples currently having issues.” You pointed out the text inside of the magazine page.

“Ah, it says it can help couples having issues, not that its directly for them!” Momo corrects you, still adamant on trying it.

Any minute now he’d start pleading that it seems fun, so you’d skip that part for his sake and agree.

---

The first exercise was maintaining eye contact for 15 seconds straight, and god was it awkward.

As much as you loved Momo’s pink orbs, it was still a bit hard to look at him that long--in silence at least. On the other hand, he gazed at you with his usual bright smile, not seeming deterred by the timeframe.

That is, until he forgets to actually blink. Those pink eyes you love immediately start watering and he looks steadily more uncomfortable, fidgeting a little.

“..Momo, you can blink.” You stare at him with half-lidded eyes.

“No, I’m gonna win!” Momo insists, still intensely staring at you. You couldn’t help but chuckle a little at that, but he keeps true to his word and survives the whole 15 seconds, then reaching for a tissue to wipe the slight water that had been welling up in his eyes.

“...I’m still not sure what that was supposed to prove.” Struggling to find meaning in the simple yet somehow a bit tedious exercise, you look back at the instructions to see if you’re missing something.

“Honestly, me either.” Momo finally settles down after rubbing his victory in your face a little. You were hardly paying attention since you were preoccupied with reading. “I don’t need to stare at (Y/N)-chan to know that I trust you.” He continues.

The book is lowered as you glance over at him with a softened gaze. Your eyes lock for half of a second and he takes that as an opportunity to be mushy and place a peck on your cheek faster than you could react.

You blink a few times, not out of shock but of how fast he did that--only to be pinned down not even two seconds later.

Your husband's fangs show as he smiles happily with a tinge of mischeviousness.

"You know what I think would bring us a little closer?" His breath tickles your ear as he leaned in by it.

"W..what?" You mutter, voice barely above a whisper as your mind immediately wandered to whatever he could be thinking of with that face, but dared to ask anyway.

"Hehe…" His eyes squint, gazing deeply into yours for a moment. A slender manicured hand is placed on the side of your thigh.

"TICKLE FIIGHT!"

A prideful (and loud) declaration is made, and your sides immediately tingle as he attacks you on both thighs and your waist.

"Wh--MOMO!" A screech louder than you intended comes from you, slapping his shockingly fast hands away.

Momo continuously cackles as he continues his tickle attack. As you started to catch up with hitting his hands away, he got even faster.

“Okay Momo, Okay!” You plead, barely able to speak through your giggles.

“Nope, not until you formally declare you surrender!~”

“I surrender!”

“Alright alright.” He sneaks a kiss on your cheek before finally letting up. Your body almost started aching from all those sudden reactions.

After a moment of you catching your breath, he picks you up and places you on the bed, to your surprise. Once you’re set on it, his hands don’t leave your hips, looking at you again.

“Kay, what’s next then, some cuddles, or maybe something more?” A slight twinkle in his eye as he winks.

Your lips purse with a slight lean backward, making him immediately chuckle.

"Your reactions are just too good that I can't help but be a little impish sometimes just to see it!" He grinned.

You'd shake your head if he weren't so terribly cute and good at what he does.

"I'm really looking forward to spending the rest of this trip with you, we've needed this alone time for a while now." His tone was more genuine and serious now even though his smile remained, leaning his head on your shoulder.

"I agree." You nod, slowly running your hand through his black locks. "Sorry if it's not as exciting as when you're with your other friends back home though."

"Eh? I married you though." Momo raises his head back up to make eye contact with you. "Of course I love being with you.." His arms around you squeeze a bit tighter.

"Momo.." Your hand stops in his hair.

"I already marked a '(Y/N) Day' every day in my schedule that I'm free for the next few months!"

"..Momo I'm not sure if you can predict that far-"

He gives a shrug. "I can just change it around if something else comes up."

That earns a smile from you.

"I love you, Momo.." you mutter.

"I'll love you forever too.." He brings his arms up to wrap around your wais above you stomach, helping you lean back.

"Now, we've already had dinner and a bath, so you can have me for dessert!"

[ihaechans]

Late at Night || Dong Si Cheng

PAIRING ▸ Winwin x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ pure smut, oneshot, established relationship

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, oral (M), handjob(?), making out, (kinda) exhibitionism kink, praise, a little degrading, use of ‘baby boy’ and ‘good girl’ like once, Winwin overstimulating himself, slight switch!winwin, unprotected sex, fucking behind a building really loudly because yeah... 🤪

SUMMARY ▸ Late night walks around the city with your boyfriend Winwin turn out way more exciting than usual. **Inspired by this post**

WORD COUNT▸1.4k

The night started out peaceful, you and your boyfriend of almost two years out on another date night, resulting in the two of you hand in hand walking around the city like a couple of love-struck teenagers.

You honestly started to question how you two ended up in the bushes behind some random building on the corner of the street, making out like there was no tomorrow; no chance of someone catching the two of you.

The night started out so innocent. Your boyfriend simply just wanting to take you out on a cute dinner date at your favorite restaurant downtown. A few chaste kisses given here and there.

It had been so long since the two of you even thought about engaging in anything sexual due to his busy work schedule- it wasn’t your fault the kisses and lingering gazes Winwin gave affected you.

That brings you to now.

You let out a surprised gasp as Winwin’s hand clutched onto the back of your neck, tugging you hard against his body; making sure you could feel his hard cock straining against his pants. He was practically begging for your attention.

At first sight, Winwin may seem innocent and cute, but he was willing to take dangerous risks just for the hell of it. He would never admit how much it turned him on that the two of you could easily get caught.

You swung your hands around his neck, winning dominance over the kiss easily, causing your boyfriend to groan. You proceeded to grind your hips into his own, savoring all of the little sounds slipping from Winwin’s lips.

You couldn’t help your pride swelling at the realization that you were the only one who got to see him like this, make him feel so good.

“Y/n,” Winwin whined, bucking his hips against your own in pleasure, almost forgetting to finish his sentence, “I need you right now,” 

Immediately, you dropped to your knees, undoing your boyfriend’s belt in a hurry. Winwin let out a short, airy laugh at the sight of you so desperate to get his dick out and please him. 

In no time, you have your fingers wrapped around Winwin’s cock pumping him rapidly, using your saliva as lubricant. You glance up at his face, taking note of his tightly shut eyes and the way that his teeth dig into his bottom lip roughly. This wasn’t the first time you had seen him in full-on ecstasy, and you would never get tired of seeing it either.

You take one final glance at the boy before wrapping your lips around the head of his cock without warning. A soft moan leaves his lips as his eyes open immediately to take in such a pretty sight.

You proceed to lick around the head of his cock, teasing him ever so slightly. Winwin was fighting back the urge to thrust his dick into your mouth straight away and you could tell.

You pull back for a moment, “Be a good boy for me and stay still. Can you do that for me baby boy?” It was a subtle warning and he knew that if he disobeyed your orders there would be consequences for him to face later on.

With a quick nod of approval from your boyfriend, you attach your mouth back onto his cock, hollowing your cheeks and bobbing your head immediately. You made sure to pay extra attention to the vein that ran across the underside of his cock, a loud moan forcing its way out of Winwin’s throat at the contact.

You release his cock from your mouth once again, “You’re so cute baby,” you praise, his moans and pleas for you to keep touching him send a spark of arousal to your core. 

All your pent-up sexual frustration went into this blowjob, giving your boyfriend no mercy as you kept a fast pace around his dick.

You look up at Winwin to see his eyes closed in bliss, your hand coming back to finish him off. You were amused seeing the way his head tilted back against the hard brick of the building you two chose to hide behind.

You jerked him off rapidly. You could tell he was going to cum soon, all of the usual tell-tale signs were there. Eyes shut tightly, his hands in your hair, mouth slightly agape, the way his legs were starting to shake with pleasure.

“I’m cumming- fuck,” Winwin let out a choked moan as he came down your throat, his thighs shaking embarrassingly from pleasure. You swallowed obediently, almost as if it was an automatic reaction.

You were certain your actions could be heard by whoever walked by, it was almost dead silent tonight, the natural noises of nature being the most dominant sound around the two of you.

You were dragged back into reality when your boyfriend pulled you up from the hard ground by your hair for a passionate kiss, moaning into your mouth desperately at the lingering taste of his cum on your tongue.

“I need you to fuck me right now I can’t take it anymore,” you complained, a little too loudly for his liking.

Instantly, your boyfriend’s hand is over your mouth, silencing you, “You don’t want us to get caught, right baby? Be a good girl and keep quiet for me,” Winwin smirked as he flipped your positions, your body now against the wall.

It always amazed you how he could be so whiny and submissive, and the next second so dominant and commanding. It sent a gush of arousal straight to your core every time.

Hastily, Winwin got rid of your pants, throwing them to the ground. He didn’t even bother to take off your panties, settling on pushing them to the side messily.

You jumped up into your boyfriend’s hold, wrapping your legs around his waist, clothed back pressing against the wall before he finally pushed into you with one slow thrust. You both let out a moan filled with pleasure, your boyfriend’s dick filling you to the brim while your walls squeeze around his cock as if it was the last time he would ever touch you.

Winwin let out a low groan before sharply thrusting into you, a high-pitched moan forcing its way past your throat at the action. “What did I tell you, huh? Take it like a good girl and shut up,” he spat, hands gripping your hips roughly.

You whined lowly as his hips resumed a brutal pace. The faint sounds of skin slapping against skin and low moans could be heard from miles away at this point but you didn’t care if people heard anymore.  The brick wall against your back was rough and uncomfortable, causing you to arch your back away from the rugged material. At your movement Winwin gasped, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of your walls unintentionally clamping around his cock. 

The overstimulation was starting to get to him, but he loved the feeling. The longer he fucked you, the louder he got, almost as if he was putting on a show for the whole town to enjoy.

You felt your high approaching quickly since you were so worked up from the lack of touch and sex recently. Luckily, Winwin wasn’t too far behind you. At this point he was breathing heavily, broken cries and moans spilling from his lips at the overstimulation from it all.

You were so close to your orgasm that you could practically feel it on your fingertips. A rough thrust directly into your g-spot is what made you see stars. You came on Winwin’s cock with a loud cry, walls fluttering uncontrollably.

A deep groan from your boyfriend is what gave away that he too, was cumming. You felt his seed shoot deep into your pussy, feeling almost endless by how long he seemed to sit there with his cock still deep inside you.

The only sounds that were audible were the heavy pants the two of you created beside the natural ones of nature.

Winwin began to pull out of your cunt, his cock covered in a thin sheen of the mixture of your cum. “Maybe we should start fucking behind buildings more often,” he joked, kissing the top of your head in endearment.

“You owe me a nice shower when we get home by the way. I got on the dirty ass ground for you.” You couldn’t help but laugh at yourself, at how the mood changed so quickly.

“Maybe if you weren’t always so damn horny you wouldn’t be so dirty right now.” Winwin quickly tucked himself back into his pants, aching for that shower you had brought up desperately.

You smiled, joking slapping your boyfriend’s arm before replying “Oh shut up.”

And that was how your night ended. Getting brutally fucked behind a random building downtown. You had to agree with one thing Winwin had said tonight though:

Maybe you should fuck behind buildings more often.

A/n: If you made it this far I really appreciate you. This is the first real smut I have ever posted and I’m really anxious that it’s ass but please enjoy it. This is proofread but even if there is mistakes I'm sorry ya’ll I honestly really tried my best on this. 

[uppermocns-moved]

𝘢𝘰𝘵 + 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺'𝘳𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘥

eren, armin, levi, jean

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 – nsfw (minors don’t like/reblog/respond), mentions of hard kinks, female reader. shifts in and out of canonverse/modernverse so use your imagination! 

𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯 𝘫𝘢𝘦𝘨𝘦𝘳 

always dominant. can be hard or soft dom depending on the mood.

into harder kinks (with heavy communication and consent): somno, breeding, impact play, breath play, free use, etc.

super high sex drive and usually always horny. when he’s bored, he’ll jerk off to pictures you’ve sent him and porn you’ve made together (he’s not camera shy), but never let himself cum, just lazily edge.

he edges for days at a time – not only goes it feel so fucking good, but it gives him thicker loads to pump inside you later.

obsessed with cumming inside you. he’ll fuck load after load as deep as he can inside you, watch in awe as it leaks out of you, then use his fingers to push it back in. he’s not shy about his possessiveness and this is just a further reminder that you’re his.

secretly doesn’t mind when you scratch up his back – he loves looking in the mirror and seeing visual evidence of how good he made you feel.

also secretly loves when you give him hickies in obvious spots. he does absolutely nothing to hide them, he loves reminding everyone of his place. it’s a nonverbal way of saying “i’m taken, fuck off”

wouldn’t care if he broke his neck from you riding his face. he welcomes it, actually.

heavily into bdsm (emphasis on the s&m), and dom/sub dynamics. while he loves perfect little subs that’ll treat him like some sort of god, he adores when you get bratty and talk back. makes things a lot more fun.

loves embarrassing you.

“my god, baby, can fuckin’ hear how wet you are.” “soaking your panties and i didn’t even fuckin’ touch you. what’s got you so wet, sweetheart? thinking of my cock?” “that felt good, didn’t it? don’t hide from me, pumpkin, let me see your pretty face.”

threesomes. foursomes. you name it. while eren’s possessive over you, he doesn’t mind sharing with his friends (if you consent, of course). he loves knowing how worked up everyone gets over his girlfriend, loves fucking you in front of them to show everyone how wrapped around his finger you are.

safeword! mean and rough is what eren does best. even while he’s slapping you around and calling you dummy, or an eager little slut for his cock, he’ll still check in with you and make sure you’re still feeling good and enjoying yourself. he may like hurting you, but he never wants to actually hurt you. never forgets aftercare, either, you’re still his precious angel that he loves more than anyone.

he’s incredibly vocal – dirty talk, moaning, growling, cursing, degradation.

if you’re too tired to go all the way, he loves mutual masturbation, or jerking himself off while you talk dirty in his ear. always wants to hear what you want him to do to you.

big fan of including toys, usually always fucking you with your magic wand on your clit.

sex without the power dynamics is still very intense and passionate. lots of making out, scratching his back and pulling him closer, deep thrusts, curses, eren telling you he loves you, kissing your forehead while you cum.

𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘦𝘳𝘵

doesn’t really involve himself in strict power dynamics. he’s very versatile and the role he assumes depends on the mood.

prefers biting over spanking and choking you with his fingers over wrapping a hand around your throat (but he will do both).

loves eating pussy and will tease you by gently kissing you through your panties. definitely bites your inner thighs. whispers to you from between your legs and tells you how good you taste. makes you cum over and over, each time moaning into your core and tightening his grip on your thighs to keep you right where he wants you. he only stops when you’re crying and twitching, physically unable to cum one more time.

loves when you’re rough and press his face into your pussy or pull his hair to guide his mouth where you want it. you can hurt him a little. as a treat.

loves when you grab him by the chin and pull him up for a desperate kiss after he eats you out for hours.

goes heavy on the body worship, especially when you wear pretty lil outfits for him.

memorized your body and knows it better than you do. he knows when you’re close, you can’t hide from him.

his possessive side comes out hardcore during sex – armin doesn’t share. he’ll bite marks into your flesh and use his sweet, soft-spoken voice to get into your head. he wants to be the only thought in your mind, the source of all your pleasure.

“mine. you’re all mine. not fuckin’ sharing you.”

if you want him to, he can be fucking mean. he contrasts his harsh words with gentle touches, or tells you sweet things while patting your cheek just a little too rough. it’s almost scary how effortlessly he can change his demeanor to someone entirely different.

loves when you come by to “help” him study (lazily jerk him off while he does his required reading and assignments).

actually just loves when you jerk him off for that matter, especially when he gets to rut into your fist until he’s overstimulated and making a mess of your hand.

easily excitable – just gotta kiss him with tongue all soft and slow and he’ll get all flustered poking against your leg

obsessed with having his mouth on your tits – sucking them, licking them, letting his hand palm and grope at the one not receiving attention.

eye contact is a massive turn on and makes everything feel so much more intimate. he’ll gently grab your chin and redirect your sight, or give your inner thigh a little nip to make you open your eyes again. “focus on me, sweet girl.”

armin’s weaknesses are praise and heavy personal attention. sometimes he’s stressed out and just needs you to take care of him. he’ll sit between your legs, back pressed to your front, and let you stroke him until he’s overstimulated or so pent-up from denial. it makes him dizzy when you whisper praise in his ear, telling him how pretty he looks and how good he’s being for you.

“you wanna cum for me, pretty boy? that feel good? you like when i touch you like this, don’t you? such a good boy for me, armin.”

𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘪 𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘯

no defined power dynamic/roles – you do whatever the mood calls for. sometimes he’s pounding you into next week, sometimes you’re denying him orgasms for two hours straight until his voice cracks when he begs.

that being said, levi is a natural brat-tamer and can be a hard dom when he’s agitated and needs to blow off steam. his job is literally to keep brats in check – he doesn’t tolerate insubordination or backtalk (sometimes you test that out though). 

restraining your arms behind your back with his belt, spanking you until you can’t sit, reprimanding slaps, filthy degradation, punishing thrusts. he can be mean. 

“soaking through your panties and i didn’t even touch you. pathetic.” “i wasn’t fucking asking. knees, now.” 

he’s a masochist and loves when you scratch up his back, wrap a hand around his throat, bite him, pull his hair, etc.

borderline sadistic in the way that he will make you cum twenty times before he even considers letting up. he’s relentless. 

loves watching you get yourself off, or make out with you while you get each other off 

gets weak when you pull him in by the shirt collar

holds your hands :)

quickies are usually the only option due to your chaotic schedules. you get at least five minutes alone together, you don’t take it for granted. 

slow morning sex is his favorite – the sun is barely peeking over the horizon and you don’t have to worry about the outside world yet. it’s just the two of you and you can really take your time. 

starts off kind of shy about being vocal and you need to ease him into it

after he finishes, he’ll take a moment to caress and admire your pretty face and kiss your forehead, then make a teasing comment about how you’re sweaty. 

gets a little carried away and accidentally rips all the buttons off your shirt

giving you head is a form of stress relief for him, he really just loves pleasuring you 

takes incredible care of you afterwards – acts as a crutch when your legs are too shaky, gets you water, wipes away messes with a damp cloth, even runs you a bath if you have that much time.

“tch. don’t say i never do anything for you, brat.”

likes when you give him hickies in spots that his uniform will cover. it’s a secret that only the two of you are in on.

levi gets a little publicly affectionate when you return to your duties after having sex – still incredibly reserved, but he’ll ruffle your hair and look at you with the fondest eyes. maybe give your hand a squeeze if nobody’s looking.

𝘫𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘬𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘪𝘯

naturally dominant. typically a softer dom unless you provoke him, then he has no issue roughing you up and fucking you into a drooling mess.

so big and strong and loves any position that demonstrates that – fucking you against the wall with your legs wrapped tight around his hips, stand-and-carry, having you on top and bouncing you like you weigh nothing. 

loves when you dig your nails into his back

slightly prefers ass over tits but is overall a leg/thigh kind of guy. includes feet. i’m so sorry.

stockings/thigh high socks/fishnets/garters absolutely knock him out 

great stamina while you’re fucking but almost instantly falls asleep when you’re done. or just wants to cuddle. 

mildly into somnophilia (receiving – loves being woken up with blowjobs)

praises you heavily while you’re riding him

“that’s it, just like that. good girl. good fucking girl.” 

can get a little too romantic when he’s really close and not thinking clearly

“gonna make me cum, angel, love this pussy so fucking much. love you so fucking much.” 

prefers cumming inside you but he’s really just happy to be included 

he gets a little goofy during quickies and does things like bite your asscheek before eating you out. 

secretly loves when you tie his wrists to the headboard and use him however you want. overstimulation is one of his favorite things, especially when it’s your hand forcing orgasm after orgasm from him. 

generally into rope-play but also really likes using his hands and sheer strength alone

bite his bottom lip or gently touch his upper thigh and he’s instantly hard

he’s a hopeless romantic! masturbating alone isn’t the same! he likes dirty-talking on the phone with you when you’re not together, or he just waits until you are. 

will break the headboard and dent the wall if he gets carried away

loves shower sex after stressful days

gets hard from making out – especially if you’re half-dressed on his lap and grinding against his bulge. sometimes he can feel you all warm and throbbing through your panties and he almost blacks out. 

worships your pussy but he will actually start writing his vows the moment you take him down your throat. 

request your fav here. more of my writing. 

[subpar-ghoulfriend]

Let’s have a baby

yandere!EraserMicx PREGNANT!Reader 

A terrible mix up leading to an accidental pregnancy? Or something more intentional? Either way now you were pregnant with (none other than the beloved power couple heroes) Eraserhead and Present Mic’s child. Time to discuss how co parenting is going to work. 

TW: pregnancy, artificial insemination, yandere elements, mentions of stalking, alludes to potential custody battle

You had been avoiding the two men for the past week, which was challenging seeing as they managed to find your phone number, address, and place of work. Any time you blocked their calls they got a new number. Two Pro Heroes versus a twenty something civilian, it was only a matter of time until you were cornered.

Now the couple stood between you and your apartment. You had a long shift at your job as a pet groomer and just wanted to get some rest.

Present Mic was the first to speak. "Hey lil momma, we heard you had work today so we brought you some dinner. We thought we could talk over a nice meal."

You had no response. You were tired, both physically and emotionally. You had been put through the ringer ever since meeting them at your doctors office. It was a total Jane the Virgin situation. You went in for an assessment about some supposed ovarian cysts and unknowing left artificially inseminated. There was a supposed mix up, a digital glitch that somehow merged your chart with the surrogates - apparently your names were super similar. Two weeks later you were called back into the doctor's office and informed of what took place. And now you were in this living nightmare.

And the two heroes had nothing to do with the error. There was totally a surrogate. They hadn't paid off your provider. And why would they? You had never met them - although given their patrols they may have seen you once or twice...

They were tearful when they were informed of the mix up, they had been waiting patiently through the whole process and now everything was thrown in chaos. They offered to compensate you for your service which sent you into a blind rage. They just assumed you would carry a child, a child with half of your DNA, and then give YOUR baby away. Rationally you understood that they had planned to be be the only parents to the child, but that was with a professional surrogate who understood the process, who didn't want the child in their life, just happy to help out a loving couple. But that wasn't you, you grew up wanting to be a mom, and now they would take that from you.

What if they tried to legally take sole custody of the baby? Surely they had some pull in the judicial system. Besides, they were a solid couple with money, while you were alone with no family and working two jobs. The thought made you sick to your stomach.

You were shaking as you tried to push past them. Maybe they would just disappear if you ignored them, a girl could dream. But instead they tagged along inside. Albeit you weren’t fighting them on it, you knew this had to happen eventually.

Aizawa easily found the cluttered dining table in your small apartment. You flinched when the loud one tried to help you shrug off your backpack. Taking a seat on the couch you waited for them to start berating you.

"Come sit at the table, dinner is getting cold," Eraser spoke for the first time.

"I'll eat later, I'm not hungry."

"You may not be, but the baby needs to eat."

You glared, how dare they insinuate you didn't know what your child needed. If your body was hungry, you ate. If you were full the baby was full too.

But, you complied, not wanting to argue, "Fine, but I ate a snack not too long ago."

As you ate, Mic kept you company, picking at some left overs, they clearly ate before their visit. Aizawa was rummaging through your place but you managed to hold your tongue until he began throwing things out of your fridge.

"What are you doing?" You hissed, getting up out of your seat.

"Mic and I will bring you groceries tomorrow. The food you have is barely safe for an adult, let alone a fetus."

"Are you kidding me? It's not like I'm chugging alcohol and living off Twinkies. Hey! I just bought those turkey slices. How is turkey bad?" You whined.

To make sure you wouldn't dig the food out trash he dumped it out of his container.

"Zashi, don't let me forget to empty the trash on our way out. Do you know how much salt is in deli meat? And there's no way you can drink any of this while you're pregnant." He gestures to the cans of soda.

As the frustration built you had to fight back tears. They couldn't come in to your home and start throwing out your things.

"Some of us don't make ridiculous money, I'm buying what I can afford and the doctor never had any problem with my health." You hissed.

Hizashi felt the tension thickening, "Hey hey hey, it's okay. Sho and I will go get you some good stuff. We just gotta watch out for you and baby."

And that was the end of your resolve, you stomped past the Hero and locked yourself in your bedroom. Finally tears began to drip down your cheeks.

Back in your kitchen Mic was chiding his boyfriend for being so tough on you.

"So I should just back down while she stuffs herself with junk food?"

Mic gave him a shrug, showing him a bottle on your counter, "At lest she's taking her prenatal vitamins?"

Grabbing the keys to your apartment Aizawa instructed Mic to wait with you while he got you better groceries. He would make copies of your keys on his was back.

You prayed they would leave soon. You were laying in your bed having cried yourself out. Barely into your second month of pregnancy. You still had to endure this for at least seven more months, but most likely much longer.

Next thing you knew you were opening your eyes and the clock read seven AM. By now your uninvited guests must be gone. Nervously you sat up, praying that you'd skip the morning sickness just once this week. You had always had a weak stomach and even the doctor was surprised you were already experiencing the symptom. Unfortunately the minute your feet touched the floor you knew what was coming. You sprinted to the restroom, not even checking to see if the duo had left.

God this was terrible, you didn't just hate throwing up, you were terrified of it. What if you started and never stopped? But it did come to an end. You wiped the water from your eyes and took a moment before standing from the floor. You screamed when a hand slid under your arm, helping you up. Another set of feet rushed to the bathroom.

" What's wrong?" Hizashi huffed as he skid to a stop.

You pulled arm free from Aizawa's grasp. "What are you two still doing here?"

You turned in the faucet to rinse your mouth. Trying to calm your stress, the nausea was trying to return.

Undeterred the scruff pulled your hair into a bun before rubbing your back. You debated returning to bed but that wouldn't get them out of your apartment. You told them you need to sit down, both of them nodding, still wearing their concerned expressions. They got you a glass of water before joining you on the couch. Stubborn men, you sat at the end of the couch so they couldn't both sit, but Mic decided to perch himself on the armrest.

He started petting your hair, "You feelin better little listener?" You nodded in response.

"I got you more food, let us know if your hungry."

You sighed in defeat, "I'm barely two months pregnant, I can fend for myself. What did you all want to talk about?"

You anxiously placed a hand on your stomach. Both men felt their hearts flutter recognizing your maternal instincts kicking in.

Aizawa let Mic begin, he was the more gentle of the two.

"Well, we figured we got off to a rough start. You got put in a tough situation. We shouldn't have assumed you didn't want a child so we're not mad at how you stormed out. But either way we expect to be in our baby's life. The two of us talked it over and we don't want to fight you if you want to be in their life too. So if you wanna be the mommy we're cool with it."

You could blame your reaction on your hormones for your response but you didn't, "Geez thank you so much for allowing me to be in MY child's life."

Aizawa placed a hand on the back of your neck, giving you a gentle massage. "Okay then, the three of us are gonna have a baby. That means you have to stop ignoring us. We can raise the baby together, without involving anyone else. But if we have to, we can always go the legal route for the baby's best interest." 

He knew it was a low blow, but the couple needed you to stop fighting them. Your eyes snapped to his and you shook your head in protest.

"Okay then we're all the same page," Aizawa reassured you.

Mic cheered, "Now we can focus on the fun stuff."

"Hun," Eraserhead caught his attention. "There's still a few more important things to figure out. We don't want you going back to that doctor. They're incompetent. We scheduled you an appointment with another's clinic for next week. Okay?"

You couldn't find your voice after how easily he threatened to take your baby. So you just nodded. Half listening.

"Good. We also went ahead and programmed our numbers into your phone. We need to be able to check in with you."

"Okay, but I can't use my phone at one of my jobs."

"About that lil momma," Mic started. "You work a lot, which is totally bad ass, but we don't think you leave enough time to rest and take care of yourself."

You tried to protest but Aizawa cut you off, "You also shouldn't be working around so many animals. Even though we love animals, they can be unpredictable and one dog can trigger all the rest into a frenzy."

You were dumbfounded, "I've never heard of anything like that happening. One of my coworkers was pregnant last year, she worked until her maternity leave. Plus I need to be able to pay my bills. And don't offer to compensate me again."

"Why do you have to view it as compensation? We just want to take care of the mother of our child. Just think about it. Mic and I have to go take care of some business but we'll be back later this week."

---

Back at their home Hizashi was dramatically splayed on their bed.

"Babe why are you pouting?" Aizawa asked.

"Why can't we just bring her home already?"

Aizawa sympathized with his better half, but they needed to be methodical. He reminded Hizashi that they didn't need to cause her even more stress, especially so early into the pregnancy. If they played their cards right they would have their happy little family soon enough.

If they could ease you in to the relationship everything would be easier in the long run. They had been managing just fine until now, they could wait a few more months.

He joined Hizashi on the couch. Mic was comforting himself the way he usually did when he felt like this. He was scrolling through the countless photos they had collected since their chance encounter with you over a year ago. 

[dourpeep]

WAIT. I'm losing my mind over that friends to lovers post you reblogged. All I can think about is college Albedo + mutual pining, romantic tension, and friends to lovers OTL

- Leaving little post it notes in his bag or inside the cover of his textbook to tell him to have a nice day or remind him to take care of himself because you know he has a tendency to work too hard sometimes!! And what if he meets up with Sucrose and Timaeus because they like to catch up and sometimes discuss their research or homework, and they see Albedo hiding a grin behind his books and think that he's solved a particularly difficult problem but it's just a cute little note you slipped him when he wasn't looking

- You stay up studying for exams with Albedo and he dozes off on your shoulder so you sit there afraid to move because you don't want to wake him but you're also dying inside

- The two of you go to the library to work but eventually get distracted so it turns into the two you sitting close together on a couch and reading each other sections from your favourite books

- I can also see him as someone who rambles about labs or new research he's absolutely taken by. Weeks later when you mention something he said before, he's a little surprised but you just tell him that you tried your best to understand everything because you know it's important to him and maybe his heart skipped a little

- Going off your headcanons: Albedo looking for little specimens and deciding it could be a fun outing with Klee so she can get some sunshine and you find the two of them in the park. You end up joining them and Albedo's heart softens seeing you and Klee laughing and smiling together!

- I remember this little headcanon you had where he snorts when laughing sometimes and imagine Albedo letting one slip out while he's with you, and Kaeya teasing him later on.

- Eventually, his friends start asking if the two of you are together because of the silent affection and teasing between the two of you. Albedo knows he likes you but he's scared a relationship will ruin everything and you're too important to lose even if it means he never says anything, but little did he know, you have feelings for him too.

Anyway, I hope you have a nice day and week! Sorry about this monster of an ask lmao

NEVER APOLOGIZE FOR ALBEDO

NEVER

Like... there are two characters that I seldom, if ever, turn down and that's my beloved Albedo and beloathed Scaramouche- If you don't want me to shut up about a topic??? Like just utter word vomit???? Bring them up. Bring them up, I dare you--

Okay okay okay okay now lemme just--

oops. 1.4k words. Enjoy your headcanon drabbles, courtesy of me being a hard simp for Albedo--

College au Albedo is pretty close to how he normally is! Brilliant, though having difficulties with making friends and keeping said friends, getting carried away with experiments (did you know if you're on good enough terms with the professors, they'll vouch for you so you can use the lab when there aren't classes using them?? Yeah)...so the friendship that you have with him is certainly the closest one he has.

It'd be the kind where you knock on his dorm or apartment door at 11:45pm with some takeout and your textbooks and he'll let you in without a second thought. You slip inside and settle on the floor next to the coffee table cross-legged, setting the food out as if you don't live a good walk away. He wasn't going to sleep any time soon anyway.

Like the kind of friendship where your hand instinctively slips into his to tug him towards something cool you found or to the café where you tend to go after classes.

Even after you get to your destination, you don't let go.

Now that that has been established--the little notes you slip into his bag or on his books really began as a little reminder. Despite his keen intellect, Albedo tends to easily forget things because his mind is always going onto the next thing. So, being the great friend you are, would just slip a note to remind him to take breaks, eat a snack, or that you're supposed to go and meet Sucrose and Timaeus after class to prep for the upcoming exams.

Neither of you really know when they began to turn into doodles or 'seemingly platonic declarations of adoration'. It's normal for friends to write a heart besides "Don't forget I love you!", right? Yeah.

The smile that makes it's way on Albedo's face is unmistakable the moment that Sucrose accidentally stumbles upon a sticky note carefully tucked in one of his notebooks.

-

Speaking of Albedo and his tendencies to get carried away with stuff, he often functions on...minimal sleep.

Those nights that you pop up at his place to study or just hang out, he often ends up dozing off, glasses sliding uncomfortably down the bridge of his nose and hair tousled out of it's usual style.

You never plan to stay the night (though even when he's awake he insists you do because it's not as safe at night to make the commute home), but you can't just disturb his sleep when it's the first time in a while that he's probably gone without taking a capsule or two of melatonin to help himself back into some semblance of a sleep schedule.

It's these moments that you remember just how soft his hair is and just how nice his shampoo smells.

Also that he's a cuddler.

You awake in the morning, back aching and eyes squinting against the sudden brightness of the world around you and limbs tangled with your best friend. He's unbothered because his face is half-shoved against the crook of your neck.

-

With the library, you often find yourselves in a little game. There's so much to learn and so, so many topics through the old vanilla-scent found between pages!!

So trips to the library end up with the two of you digging and sifting to find a topic you've never heard of, sit and read for 15 minutes, then proceed to explain said topic the best you can (without looking!!). It almost always ends up with a few chuckles from Albedo as you fumble explaining (and half-making up) information and Albedo's (unfairly) great short-term memory winning out.

Speaking of...between actually studying and your little topic games, Albedo turns to you to bounce off his current observations and ideas. Sucrose and Timaeus, though both in similar majors as Albedo, are busy with their own projects and research to the point that they don't really have the time to help with stuff as extensive as his research.

Annnnd, naturally, since you don't have anything better to do and are almost always by his side, you play that part!

You listen intently no matter how dense the subject may be and no matter if you do or do not have the background knowledge.

When you ask him to explain something you don't quite understand, he can't help but blink in surprise because you were listening??? And wanted to really understand? You prove time and time again (even days, weeks later) that you listened to every word that tumbled out during his rambles.

And of course you do! Albedo's one of the most important people to you, so it's only natural that you want to show interest in his interests.

Also it's pretty cool to find out those random bits of trivia (like lobsters and their repairable telomeres-).

--

Klee!!!

Oh man, the first time that you met Klee was a pretty hectic day for Albedo. Due to his Aunt Alice's incredibly busy schedule, he tends to care for Klee on days that he doesn't have class.

However, that particular day he just barely finished class before he had to go and pick her up from school.

With you in tow, that is.

Immediately, the little girl brightens up at your presence, no doubt excited from what she's heard about you (listening in to Albedo's conversations with Alice and the embarrassed tone in his voice when he realizes that he's let your name slipped again and now Aunt Alice wants to know about this particular friend who's captured dear little Bedo's attentions). He's relieved when Klee doesn't immediately reveal that.

From then on, Klee insists that Albedo invites you for every outing they have.

The cafe for a quick treat? The bookstore to sit and read a few books?

"Oh, please please please?? Can they come Albedo? Klee promises that she'll be good!"

Who is he to say no?

But above all, those park days are his favorite. You end up running around with Klee, lifting her up so she can reach a particular leaf on a branch, squatting down to see a bug or lizard that she's entirely enthralled by--all while Albedo sits under the shade of a tree on a blanket, sketchbook and pencil in hand.

You don't know it (even though there's many occasions where he's shown you his sketchbook), but the pages are filled with your smile.

-

Around you, Albedo's found that he's most comfortable.

There's no need to hide insecurities or hold his tongue when something particularly exciting comes to mind...nor does he hold back in his laughter. Especially with your insistence that his laugh is cute.

That scenario with Kaeya is entirely an accident, proof of just how used to your presence he's become.

It's a late night and you're out with a bigger group of friends than usual, some friends that Albedo's only known since the start of college, but definitely good ones.

With a drink in your hand you all sit at a large table, chatting about anything and everything when you crack a joke and Albedo snorts.

Not like a snort with his normally quiet chuckle, either.

Instead, he's laughing hard, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes and stomach hurting (and maybe it's because of the few sips of drink he's had) and he snorts. The moment the sound escapes him and he's trying hard to calm back down, Kaeya grins.

He's most definitely one of the first people to put two and two together.

After all, Albedo keeps to himself, even around them. But with you around? There's a certain spark of life that ignites.

-

It's no surprise that the two of you are close when all is said and done.

But that doesn't stop either of you from choking and cheeks from flushing when someone asks if you're a couple. It happens often--too often to count--and ranges between Kaeya's teasing comments and a few sweet words from an elderly woman passing by your table at the cafe.

And you laugh--you and Albedo--because no, no, you're just friends.

Right?

Then the light hits your features just right, illuminating you in a soft glow that makes your eyes shine and--

It's undeniable the way that he feels for you. The sudden quickening of his heartbeat is proof enough. You slide your drink towards him for him to try and he does the same, eyes unable to leave your lips as you take a sip and then smile.

Between the cracks of his appreciation, of this warmth, dread seeps.

Though...that was just over a week ago.

Sitting down back at his apartment, your head resting on his chest and your hands intertwined while you watch whatever's on tv, you shift. Your lips meet in a sweet kiss.

And Albedo wonders how neither of you managed to see it sooner.

[devilyn]

first priority | kageyama tobio

— alexa, play: less of you by keshi

When you come home

I just got over being less of you

When you leave me, I’m in pieces

Maybe it’s better if we cut it loose

— synopsis: how many nights will you spend in the apartment by yourself before you finally learn that your boyfriend will always value volleyball more than he values you?

— genre: angst & happy endings

— word count: 2.3k

You were used to an empty apartment. It was the cost of dating a member of Japan’s national volleyball team, someone who had to travel constantly and was usually never home. You rarely even saw his face nowadays, and when you did, it was usually when you were cramming for exams and he had to turn in early to wake up in time for practice early the next morning.

Your relationship with Kageyama was difficult after graduating high school, to say the least. Especially since the two of you were taking different paths in life.

You’d thought about it before. He was an accomplished setter on a national team, while you were just trying to pass your university’s exams. Everything you did felt insignificant in comparison to your volleyball genius boyfriend.

The emptiness of the apartment was why the two of you always tried to schedule small dates when it was possible. When Kageyama had days where he knew he’d be let out early from practice, and when you knew you could push back doing homework for a few more hours, you’d cuddle up on the couch after cooking dinner together. Or, you’d force him to take you out to an empty park and guide your stiff boyfriend into swaying to the soft music that you’d play on your phone. No matter what, the night always ended up with your giddy laughter and his rare smiles that proved just how much he loved you.

They were small moments that the two of you would share, where no one else in the world could interrupt.

But it’d been months since the last time you’d spent more than an hour with your boyfriend. You never thought of yourself as needy, but was it too much to ask to wish that he’d keep his promises?

“I’ll be home for dinner, since practice should end at six today.”

He lied. Dinner was sitting cold at the table, and all you could do was stay frozen in your chair with your gaze on the excessive amount of side dishes you’d prepared in anticipation of finally sharing a meal with your favorite person.

You must’ve been sitting in this chair for over an hour. With a quick glance of the clock, a weak smile tugged at your lips.

7:28PM.

You hadn’t checked your phone since you last texted your boyfriend at 7:13PM--

“Let’s talk when you get back.”

Empty promises. You were used to them. Last week, he swore he’d be back in time for your three year anniversary, then forgot about it when it arrived the next day. This dinner was supposed to make up for that, but you must’ve set your expectations too high again.

What would you say when he came back? It was unrealistic for you to wish to be a priority when he had his whole professional career in front of him--he had to focus 100% of his time into that. Yet, was it really unrealistic for you to ask for just 1% of that time?

According to your friends, it wasn’t. But the more you sat alone in this empty apartment, the more you wondered if you really were asking for too much of him.

“Y/N.”

You looked up in surprise, having not heard Kageyama come through the front door. Your eyes softened when you saw the guilt plaguing his typically stoic expression.

“Welcome home, Tobio,” you stood and he instinctively leaned down so you could press a kiss to his cheek. “The food is cold, but we can warm--”

“I’m sorry,” his arms circled around your waist, and you were suddenly pulled into his chest. He buried his face into your hair, his hold on you tightening as if he was afraid you’d run away.

You might’ve.

“You said that last week,” you murmured softly, arms rising to circle around his form and gently rub his back. He was scared--you could feel it in the way he trembled as he held you.

“I’m really sorry,” he repeated, voice quivering.

“You said that last week too,” you laughed quietly.

He wished you’d just yell at him, or scold him with an accusatory tone like you did in the past when he first started making mistakes like these. He never had valid excuses--usually he’d just stay after in the gym to perfect his serves or practice more with other teammates. It was always volleyball that made him forget he had a significant other diligently waiting for him back at home--putting off their own responsibilities because his very rare free time was precious.

But was yours not? You had asked him that once, calmly, when he came home late again. And he had tilted his head and pointed out you had more free time than him, to which you took seconds to process before smiling bitterly.

“You’re not hungry?” you asked quietly, palms still gently running over his broad back to soothe him.

“No,” he murmured into your hair, breathing in your scent and imprinting it into his memory. If he let you go now, would you leave him?

“Liar,” you whispered nonchalantly, and he flinched. “You haven’t eaten since lunch, right? It’s late, let’s eat.”

“Don’t want to.”

“You’re acting like a child, Tobio,” you sighed, pulling your head back slightly so you could meet his sharp blue eyes, filled with regret. “If you’re not hungry, I am, so let’s eat.”

You paused, before reaching up to gently hold his face. Your thumbs brushed over his cheeks, and he leaned into your touch.

“...you can’t avoid this forever, you know,” you told him softly, and his brows furrowed as he closed his eyes.

“...alright,” his voice sounded pained as he pulled away to sit across from the chair you’d sat in for over an hour. 

You popped the dishes into the microwave quickly, setting them in front of him one by one before sliding a bowl of rice in his direction. He usually loved your cooking, but now he wasn’t sure if he’d even be able to swallow a bite of it with the knowledge that this may be the last meal the two of you share together.

The apartment was silent, save for the beeping of the microwave. Kageyama stared longingly at your back, watching the way you leaned against the counter and brushed your hair behind your ear while waiting for the microwave timer to go off.

When was the last time he actually looked at you? His many trips abroad, his lack of acknowledgement of your own accomplishments and struggles, his stupid passion for volleyball, it had all ruined your relationship.

He could only hope that you would forgive him, one more time.

You slid back into the seat across from his and settled in. He was anxious. You could tell by the way he couldn’t look you in the eye, chopsticks picking at his rice as he waited for you to speak first. His tall figure stiffened at the sound of your sigh.

“Might not taste good now since it’s not as fresh, but,” you pushed a few dishes his way with a sad smile. “I worked hard to prepare dinner, could you try it?”

His heart clenched painfully in his chest. What was he doing while you were excitedly making dinner for him? He never thought of you during practice--not once, even though he knew how much he loved you. He hated that about himself.

He lifted the food to his lips and let his vision cloud over with guilt as he chewed and swallowed.

“...It’s delicious,” he murmured weakly as your smile grew slightly.

“...I’m glad,” is all you managed to muster before digging into the meal you prepared for the two of you.

“I don’t have the right to ask for forgiveness again,” he said quickly, slim fingers gripping his chopsticks tight enough to turn them white. “But I still don’t want you to leave.”

You were quiet, stiffly bringing pieces of rice to your lips and forcing yourself to chew. Every action was methodical, as if you were merely acting out actions that you knew you would normally perform if your heart wasn’t breaking into tiny bits and pieces.

“...I love you, Tobio,” you whispered quietly. “So much. I still do. More than anything. But it hurts me more because I love you so much.”

He dropped his utensils and reached across the table to grab your hands. You flinched away and he cursed, bringing his hands back to his sides before running them through his hair in frustration.

“What can I do,” he asked weakly, voice shaking, “to keep you with me?”

“I don’t know anymore,” you tried to force another smile, but your lower lip quivered and the tears you held back on lonely nights started to drip down your cheeks. 

“Please,” he stood, the sound of his chair skidding back against the floors barely registered in your ears as he hurried to kneel by your side. “Please, I’m sorry.”

“That’s all you ever say,” you cried loudly, tone finally accusatory as he’d initially wished. He took your hands into his shaking ones, watching as your tears stained the pale skin of his knuckles. “You never know what you’re apologizing for, but you always, always just say sorry as if that will make any of this any better.”

“You need to tell me--” he tried to reason.

“I’ve told you!” you ripped your hands away from his almost violently, ignoring the way the hurt in his blue eyes caused your already broken heart to sting in pain. “I’ve told you how much you coming home late hurts, how I hate when you promise that you’ll be home and then break those promises the same day, how you thinking your time is more important than mine makes me feel insignificant--”

You cut yourself off with a weak sob, bringing your hands up to hide your face in your palms.

“But you never listen! You never learn. Volleyball will always be more important than me, and I can’t find it in myself to blame you for that,” you wailed as you rubbed the back of your knuckles against your eyes to try and stop the tears from flowing, “What am I supposed to do now, Tobio? How do I leave you when I love you so much?”

You felt warm arms wrap you into a familiar embrace, and your tears soaked into your boyfriend’s athletic jacket.

“You deserve better,” he told you minutes later, after your sobs had calmed down. His palm continued to gently draw circles against your lower back--an action that he knew would soothe you. “You deserve so much better than me. You know I’m bad with words, I’m inconsiderate, I suck at putting others before me, and I’m stupid.”

You laughed tearfully.

“You do so much for me,” he murmured, and your eyes fluttered closed. “You explain to me how you feel so I can try and be better, you deal with my bluntness and verbalize how much it hurts you, you tell me when I’m acting better than everyone else and humble me, and you even used to come with me when I had to attend supplemental classes in high school.”

“You really were stupid,” you commented, and he laughed weakly.

“And you loved me, through all of that,” he lamented.

“Mm,” you sighed quietly. “Yeah. I loved you.”

“And I love you,” he responded, a bit shy to be confessing it despite your long relationship. “So give me one more chance to prove that I’ve changed for the better because of you.”

He pulled back to cup your cheeks, bringing your teary gaze up to his and brushing his thumbs over the redness under your eyes. His heart hurt. He hated making you cry, and he hated himself for making you cry this much over him.

“...one more chance,” you mumbled, turning your head to kiss his palm. His brows furrowed, and tears pricked at his eyes.

Quickly, he brought his forearm to cover his wet irises from your sight. You laughed quietly, hands reaching up to try and pull his arm away.

“Are you crying because of me, Tobio? Did I manage to make the king of the court cry?” you teased with a weak smile.

“Shut up,” he grumbled, cheeks reddening as he turned to look away from you. “You know I hate it when you call me that dumb nickname.”

“And I made the king kneel in front of me too? I should repent,” you giggled, taking his free hands into your own. 

You nearly choked on your laughter when your boyfriend suddenly dipped down to pick you up into his arms. Your arms wrapped hurriedly around his neck as you turned to look at him with wide eyes.

“Tobio--!”

“I’m making use of my last chance, and I’m going to start making it up to you now,” he told you firmly, carrying you into your room and placing you onto your shared bed.

“Our dinner,” you grumbled with a pout. “I worked hard to make that…”

“And I’ll eat it tomorrow,” he caged you in his arms, hovering above you with a soft look in his sharp azure eyes. Your gaze fluttered up to his handsome face, and you grinned as a hand rose up to gently cup his cheek. He tilted his head to press a kiss to your wrist. “Can I prove to you how sorry I am?”

You laughed softly as he trailed kisses up your arm to your neck, then finally pressing his lips to yours lovingly.

“Don’t take advantage of your last chance,” you murmured, your breath mingling with his as he pressed feather-like pecks to your lips.

“I’d be even more of an idiot if I did.”

[bbbslexie]

When Did We Forget That Celebrities Are People Too?

Imagine you're standing on stage, performing for hundreds, thousands, or even millions of adoring fans. Youre living the dream; it's the life you've always wanted.

Right?

Everyone sees the smiles, the good natured gestures, and they assume it's all good, that there's nothing to worry about.

But they don't see behind the scenes. They don't see how hard you work to put on such a good show. Hours upon hours of sleep: gone. Physical pain from rehearsing. The mental strain of wanting so badly to out on a good show so they will keep giving you love.

At what point do we stop considering celebrities as humans? At what stage in their rise to stardom is it 'okay' to treat them like objects? Just tools for our amusement?

Do they not still have blood in their veins? Do they no longer have the capacity to feel scared or worried or to be hurt when those bright lights are on them or when their faces are splashed across pages upon pages in magazines?

Do they not deserve to be treated as humans still? At what point do we decide that they don't?

"Oh they're celebrities. They're famous. They should expect it."

A few photos and videos should be fine, yes, but how far is too far? Is it necessary to invade their personal space? Some folks say 3 feet, others may say 10; did you even take the time to consider what is comfortable for them?

Oh no, I forgot. They're celebrities. Their comfort doesn't matter because we spend money on them so they should become our show ponies.

You mob them, stalk them, take photos and videos of them with their families. They have schedules, you know? Time set aside by their companies and agencies during which is time specifically to interact with 'fans'.

Why then is it so important to create group chats and discuss the whereabouts of celebrities so you can 'pop up' for a photo op? You search flight details and book a flight in the hopes they'll be on the same plane.

They will smile at you and smile even when it hurts because if they don't you will turn around and slander them. 'They were rude to me!'

Truthfully, more of them should be.

How would you feel if you were having a private moment with your loved ones and someone just shoved a camera in your face? Me! Me! Pick me! That's all you'll hear.

You just bought a cute new outfit and step outside the store. BAM! Camera. A stranger trying to out their hands on your so they can take a PHOTO. So they can post it online later and gush about how gorgeous you were in person and how kind you were even though they caught you on your downtime.

Don't get me started on the time spent scouring the Internet to dig into your life, the late night calls from 'Anonymous' so they can profess their 'love' to you.

Celebrities are humans too. Society keeps them relevant but we have absolutely no right to demand anything from them. They are real people with real emotions and thought patterns. They can be happy, sad, angry, SCARED, just like you can.

Offer them at least a little bit of your consideration. Forget about the lights and the cheering and the money they have in the bank. Take that all away and what do you have? Just another person.

So whatever rights to them you conjures up in your brain, I recommend you double-check.

If you really loved them you wouldn't do anything to cause them pain.

(I may make this a two-parter because I also need to discuss dehumanisation when it comes to the sexualization of celebrities as well)

[perpetual-stories]

How To Fight Writers Block

hello, hello. hope everyone is doing well. as you can all tell, this post will be about how to fight writers block.

it’s really annoying to me when I hear people say “oh you don’t have writers block, you’re just lazy.”

first of all, yes, I am naturally lazy. second of all, how dare you. writing isn’t as easy as many think. granted, all you have to do is write down words on paper, but it’s not always easy to find the right words to express what you are feeling, or what you wish to say.

I have had terrible writer’s block for the last few days and it’s horrible! as a business owner or a small writing store, I have to be ready to write and fulfill my clients’ ideas and orders.

it’s not easy. It takes a heavy toll on my imagination, and digs me a deep pit of blockage, drowning in the lack of originality because of the constant writing and repetition or certain phrases and sentences in different projects.

i am making this post in the hopes to remind myself about over coming the dreaded and sometimes skeptically believed writer’s block.

What is writer’s block?

Yeah, I know. We all know what that is, but let me define it.

is the state of being unable to proceed with writing, and/or the inability to start writing something new

some people believe it to be a real problem, others believe it's “all in your head”

What Causes Writer’s Block?

in the 1970s, clinical psychologists Jerome Singer and Michael Barrios decided to find out

they concluded that there are four broad causes of writer's block:

Excessively harsh self-criticism

Fear of comparison to other writers

Lack of external motivation, like attention and praise

Lack of internal motivation, like the desire to tell one's story

How to overcome writer's block: 20 tips

1. Develop a writing routine:

Author and artist Twyla Tharp once wrote: “Creativity is a habit, and the best creativity is a result of good work habits.”

it might seem counterintuitive

if you only write when you “feel creative,” you're bound to get stuck in a tar pit of writer's block

The only way to push through is by disciplining yourself to write on a regular schedule. It might be every day, every other day, or just on weekends — but whatever it is, stick to it!

2. Use "imperfect" words:

A writer can spend hours looking for the perfect word or phrase to illustrate a concept

You can avoid this fruitless endeavor by putting, “In other words…” and simply writing what you’re thinking, whether it’s eloquent or not

You can then come back and refine it later by doing a CTRL+F search for “in other words.”

3. Do non-writing activities:

one of the best ways to climb out of a writing funk is to take yourself out of your own work and into someone else’s

Go to an exhibition, to the cinema, to a play, a gig, eat a delicious meal

immerse yourself in great STUFF and get your synapses crackling in a different way

Snippets of conversations, sounds, colors, sensations will creep into the space that once felt empty

4. Freewrite through it:

free-writing involves writing for a pre-set amount of time without pause — and without regard for grammar, spelling, or topic. You just write.

The goal of freewriting is to write without second-guessing yourself — free from doubt, apathy, or self-consciousness, all of which contribute to writer's block. Here’s how:

Find the right surroundings. Go somewhere you won't be disturbed.

Pick your writing utensils. Will you type at your computer, or write with pen and paper? (Tip: if you're prone to hitting the backspace button, you should freewrite the old-fashioned way!)

Settle on a time-limit. Your first time around, set your timer for just 10 minutes to get the feel for it. You can gradually increase this interval as you grow more comfortable with freewriting.

5. Relax on your first draft:

Many writers suffer form perfectionism, which is especially debilitating during a first draft

“Blocks often occur because writers put a lot of pressure on themselves to sound ‘right’ the first time. A good way to loosen up and have fun again in a draft is to give yourself permission to write imperfectly.” — editor Lauren Hughes

perfect is the enemy of good,” so don't agonize about getting it exactly right! You can always go back and edit, maybe even get a second pair of eyes on the manuscript

6. Don’t start at the beginning:

the most intimidating part of writing is the start, when you have a whole empty book to fill with coherent words

instead of starting with the chronological beginning of whatever it is you’re trying to write, dive into middle, or wherever you feel confident

7. Take a shower:

Have you ever noticed that the best ideas tend to arrive while in the shower, or while doing other “mindless” tasks?

research shows that when you’re doing something monotonous (such as showering, walking, or cleaning), your brain goes on autopilot, leaving your unconscious free to wander without logic-driven restrictions

showering is my favourite thing to do if I may add

8. Balance your inner critic:

successful writers have in common is the ability to hear their inner critic, respectfully acknowledge its points, and move forward

You don't need to completely ignore that critical voice, nor should you cower before it

you must establish a respectful, balanced relationship, so you can address what's necessary and skip over what's insecure and irrelevant

9. Switch up your tool:

a change of scenery can really help with writer's block. However, that scenery doesn't have to be your physical location — changing up your writing tool can be just as big a help!

if you’ve been typing on your word processor of choice, try switching to pen and paper. Or if you're just sick of Google Docs, consider using specialized novel writing software.

10. Change your POV:

great advice from editor Lauren Hughes: “When blocked, try to see your story from another perspective ‘in the room’ to help yourself move beyond the block. How might a minor character narrate the scene if they were witnessing it? A ‘fly on the wall’ or another inanimate object?

11. Exercise your creative muscles:

Any skill requires practice if you want to improve, and writing is no different! So if you’re feeling stuck, perhaps it’s time for a strengthening scribble-session to bolster your abilities

12. Map out your story:

If your story has stopped chugging along, help it pick up steam by taking a more structured approach — specifically, by writing an outline

13. Write something else:

Though it's important to try and push through writer's block with what you're actually working on, sometimes it's simply impossible

feel free to push your current piece to the side for now and write something new

14. Work on your characters:

It follows that if your characters are not clearly defined, you’re more likely to run into writer’s block

15. Stop writing for readers:

write for yourself, not your potential readers

this will help you reclaim the joy of being creative and get you back in touch with what matters: the story.

this is something I really need to do. because of my etsy business i don't write for fun anymore, but instead as a business and a deadline. i'm going to have to pull out my old crappy wattled fanfics or write some new ones.

16. Try a more visual process:

when words fail you, forget them and get visual. Create mind maps, drawings, Lego structures — ideally related to your story, but whatever unblocks your mind!

17. Look for the root of it:

writer’s block often comes from a problem deeper than simple “lack of inspiration.” So let's dig deep: why are you really blocked? Ask yourself the following questions:

Do I feel pressure to succeed and/or competition with other writers?

Have I lost sight of what my story is about, or interest in where it's going?

Do I lack confidence in my own abilities, even if I've written plenty before?

Have I not written for so long that I feel intimidated by the mere act?

Am I simply feeling tired and run-down?

once you identify what's wrong, it'll be so much easier to fix.

18. Quit the Internet:

If willpower isn’t your strong suit and your biggest challenge is staying focused, try a site blocker like Freedom or an app like Cold Turkey

19. Let the words find you:

meditate, go for a walk, take that shower

Word Palette is a great app that features a keyboard of random words, allowing you to simply click your way to your next masterpiece.

You can also try AI auto-completers like Talk to Transformer, where you can enter a phrase and let the app “guess what comes next.”

even though they often produce nonsense, it's a great way to help that writer's block.

20. Write like Hemingway:

And if your biggest block is your own self-doubt about your prose, Hemingway offers suggestions to improve your writing as you go

it's a pretty cool app if you ask me.

it highlights your sentences (if need be) and makes suggestions on how to improve them!

well, there you have it! a lengthy post on how to fight writer's block. now i just hope i can combat my own soon.

like, comment and reblog if you find this useful! feel free to reblog in instagram and tag me perpetualstories

Follow me on instagram and tumblr for more writing and grammar tips and more!

[watchmegetobsessed]

Eunoia - Harry Styles

a/n: i’ve been meaning to write a piece filled with just fluffy, domestic moments through a relationship, and that’s when i created Flora in my mind. wrote it with an OC bc i had very specific traits and stuff in my mind about her and it didn’t feel right to write it with y/n but feel free to read however you’d like it! but i think Flora is a delightful girl, she is a teacher and a free spirit, i think you’ll like her!

pairing: Harry x OC (Floortje ‘Flora’ Hoven)

word count: 9.5k

masterlist

Eunoia (n.) Beautiful thinking: a well mind.

Harry is always looking forward to times when his days aren’t filled from morning to midnight, traveling all around the world, meeting dozens of new people at various new meetings. Don’t get him wrong, he loves the buzz his life comes with, but one can drive this lifestyle only for a while before getting tired. He now appreciates his calm periods, when he is not living out of his suitcase, he has the time to drop by a café and enjoy his morning coffee sitting down instead of grabbing it in a go-to cup and chugging it down in his car. When he can just take a walk when the weather is nice enough and his favorite is when he has the time to just look at things without a rush and appreciate them.

He has built up a habit of going to the same coffee place since he got off tour and jumped right into his well-deserved months off filled with meditation, resting and focusing on himself after giving so much for the world. It’s just two corners down his place, falling perfectly into his way to the gym and now he even has a favorite table in the corner, because it gives him a great view of the place but the vines hanging from the ceiling masks his presence enough that people don’t often notice him there, providing some privacy for his morning coffee.

It was his third day here when he first noticed her. She was sitting at the table by the window, near the door, deep in a book, another pile waiting for her on the free seat next to her as she intensely made notes of her reading. She had her wild, curly hair in a puffy bun on the top of her head, clearly just thrown into it haphazardly when she started working. Her ivory frame glasses kept sliding down the bridge of her nose and thy seemed a bit too big for her face, but they overall fit perfectly with her knitted sweater and dungarees. And Harry couldn’t look over the fact that she had little sunflowers painted on her nails. That instantly made him smile as he adorned her from afar.

As the days passed and Harry spent almost all his morning at the same spot, he started seeing or more like noticing her more often. She always sat at the same table and Harry figured it was because of the natural lighting coming through the windows that came in handy, because she was always either reading and making notes, or doing something crafty, mostly origami, he noticed. She often had her laptop open with tutorials on different origami works that she was trying to make herself, not always succeeding, but she got it right most of the time, a triumphant smile plastering across her face every time she finished a piece, her dimples digging deep into her round cheeks. Harry couldn’t stop herself from smiling whenever she held up the finished work and adorned what she just created. He often wondered what happened to the little creations afterwards, but she just usually shoved them into her backpack before leaving.

By the fifth or sixth time he has seen her, he already knew her order. Vanilla latte with a sprinkle of cinnamon on top. Large sized, of course, so she has something to sip on while she typed away on her laptop or finished reading another book.

Harry caught himself looking for her on mornings when he didn’t see her, which were usually Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays, but one Wednesday, when he had an early meeting for a change with his team, he arrived before 8 am into the place and for his biggest surprise, there she was, sitting at her usual table, drinking the same drink as always. Later, Harry found himself coming earlier on those days just to find her there yet again and he figured her work schedule must start earlier on those days.

As the days went by Harry started to play with the thought of walking up to her. He wondered if she has noticed him as well, but it seemed like even if she did, his presence didn’t impress or bother her at all which just irked his curiosity about her even more. But every time he thought about finally talking to her, he decided against it, feeling like he would just be an intruder in her morning sessions. Until one day, the chance was handed to him on a silver plate.

She is doing origami once again on this particular day, making little cranes, one after the other, using different colored papers to make them form out a mess rainbow on her table. It’s a quiet morning, only a few more people sitting around at place. It’s been quite windy the past couple of days and today seems to be the worst, the trees are being tossed around by the howling winds outside, but it just makes it even cozier to sit inside in the warmth, enjoying a nice hot drink.

Harry finds himself watching her intently as her delicate fingers work on the paper, one crane following the other, she is starting to have a whole army of them.

An older man walks into the café and as he opens the door wide, the wind is quick to run into the place, knocking over everything that’s not heavy enough to stay still and the paper cranes are the first ones to start flying off the table.

“No! Darn it!” she gasps, her hands grabbing after them, saving just a few, but most end up on the floor, somersaulting away from her table. Harry is quick to jump to his feet and come to her rescue, lending her a pair of helping hands as she gathers her creations. “Oh, thank you!” she breathes out softly, her eyes meeting his and for his biggest surprise… she doesn’t seem to be stunned or even surprised by him, as if she doesn’t know who he is.

Maybe she doesn’t, it’s a possibility, he tells himself, smiling at her as he collects the cranes from the floor.

“Guess they wanted to be free,” he jokes, setting them on the table with the rest.

“It wasn’t my brightest idea to do it on such a windy day near the door,” she chuckles, looking over the bunch she’s been working on for the past thirty minutes.

“May I ask why you need so many paper cranes?” Harry inquires, leaving out the part that he’s been watching her do her origami for weeks now.

“Oh, I want to make decorations out of them, hang them up in my classroom. I’m a teacher,” she adds smiling.

That’s the most fitting job he could ever imagine for her, she is definitely the cool and adored teacher every kid is obsessed with.

“Wow, and how many do you need?” he asks, the stack of paper at the edge of the table looks quite a lot and he wonders if she wants to use them all for the cranes.

“Well, as many as I can make before my fingers fall off,” she jokes. Harry notices her freckles from up close that have been hidden behind her glasses until now. Her hair is in two space buns today and she is wearing a striped shirt with light-washed jeans and colorful sneakers. The sunflowers are gone from her nails, replaced by tiny daisies, but Harry likes them just as much as the previous flowers. They fit her well.

“Do you… I would love to help, if you want,” he finds himself offering, not even thinking about the question before it slips his mouth.

“You sure?” she asks, seemingly surprised but she definitely doesn’t find it weird that he just offered to help her.

“Yeah. Looks really calming and I haven’t made one in so long. Want to see if I still remember the steps,” he smiles.

“Take a seat then,” she nods, returning his smile. Harry goes back to his table to grab his stuff and join her.

“I’m Harry, by the way,” he introduces himself as he takes the empty chair at her table, holding out his hand for her that she gladly takes.

“Floortje, but everyone just calls me Flora,” she smiles.

“Never heard that name, what’s the origin of it?”

“It’s Dutch. My dad is Dutch, he came up with the name as well and my mother liked it. It means little flower, nothing grandiose,” she chuckles, reaching for another paper to start her next crane.

“Do you have a Dutch last name as well?” he asks, but then realizes she might not feel comfortable sharing her full name just yet. “You don’t have to tell me your last name though, if you don’t want to.”

“It’s alright,” she chuckles. “It’s Hoven, which is Dutch, but you pronounce it pretty much the same as you’d if it was a simple English word, just with a softer V in the middle,” she explains, her fingers working easily and fast on the thin paper, the crane is already starting to form. Harry reaches for a paper himself and tries to recollect his memory of the steps.

“Were you born in the Netherlands too?”

“Yes, I was born in Eindhoven, but we moved here when I was five. But my Dutch is still just fine, luckily. My dad refused to talk to me in English when we moved, he said he won’t have his daughter forget her mother tongue just because he is getting paid more here,” she explains with a soft chuckle as she finishes up the crane, putting it to the pile.

“I always envied bilingual people. Must be great to speak two languages that easily,” Harry wonders, eyes fixed on the paper as he is trying his best with the crane. It’s slowly coming together, though it’s not as pretty as Flora’s.

“It’s not that fun when I suddenly forget a word in one of the languages and then spend twenty minutes trying to remember when I know for a fact I know the words, it’s just stuck on my tongue.”

Harry laughs, finishing up his creation, holding it up and Flora looks at it as well. It’s a little crooked and one of its wings is longer than the other, but overall, it’s a decent first one.

“You don’t have to use it if you don’t want to,” he chuckles, putting it to the others.

“What are you talking about? It looks great!” she smiles, taking it into her hand, looking at it from all angles, smiling widely as she places it back to its peers. “It’s a nice one, and after all, it’s not your job to make cranes, so you’re fine,” she jokes.

Harry reaches for another paper as he thinks about if she knows him. Does she know what his job really is? Not that he expects everyone to know him, but she seems his age and it’s been quite impossible for him to meet someone close in age to him and not know a thing about him.

“Yeah, origami is definitely not my job,” he hums and then adds: “You… know what my job is?”

Flora glances up at him, a small smile tugging on her lips.

“Is this your way of trying to find out if I know you or not?” she smirks, tilting her head to the side, and it’s already a giveaway that she is very much aware of who she is sitting at a table with.

“I know, it was lame,” he huffs awkwardly.

“No, it was alright. And to answer your question, I do know what your job is, Harry Styles,” she replies.

“Sorry for asking around about it, you just seemed so casual and unbothered when you saw me, I thought you have no idea who I am.”

“I’m a teacher, my job is to treat everyone the same, I take equality very seriously. I don’t want my kids to think I put any of them above the rest, but I do the same outside of school too. Or do you want me to gasp and stutter now that you are sitting here?” she teases him making him laugh.

“That’s not needed at all.”

They work on their cranes in a comfortable silence and just as Harry thought, it’s quite relaxing, his thoughts slowly clear out, only focusing on the little birds he is creating. Then he glances up at Flora and suddenly his thoughts are filled with her once again. Now is his chance with her, he doesn’t want to leave this café without at least asking for her number even when he knows that he will surely see her around, just like always.

“Can I ask you something?” he speaks up as they both keep folding the colorful papers.

“Of course.”

“I hope I won’t sound creepy or something, but I’ve seen you around a lot and noticed how much you read. Is that just your hobby or…?”

“First of all it’s not creepy that you have noticed me, it’s flattering, because I have noticed you as well,” she smiles, paying him a quick glance.

“Really? I had a feeling you haven’t even seen me.”

“I did, but I thought you come here for the same reason as I do; to have some peace for yourself.”

“Ah, I see,” Harry nods.

“But to answer your question, I’m working on my second degree.”

“Oh, what’s that about?”

“Special education, speech therapy to be exact,” she tells him and Harry is even more stunned by her. Education is already a field not many can handle and then there is Flora, who didn’t just take up on it, she jumped right into it, pursuing a second degree in special education, a hard and challenging part of this job.

“Any particular reason why you chose it?”

“I have a younger brother, he is ten years younger than me, so he was already born here, but he was taught Dutch too. However, it wasn’t as easy for him as it was for me to speak two languages at the same time and he has developed some speech errors. Nothing major, but it was enough for him to be bullied in school. I saw his face every day when he came home and lied to our parents that everything is fine but then he cried to me in my room when they weren’t around. I don’t want any other kids to go through that, I’d love to be the one to not just help them come over their speech errors but also make sure they are treated the same way as everyone else.”

Harry hasn’t even noticed that he stopped working on his crane, he is now staring at her in awe, completely stunned by her. The more he learns about her the more he thinks she is a literal angel sent from above and that he can’t let her slip from his hands.

Flora looks up at him and finds him staring, a blush appearing on her full cheeks.

“Sorry for staring, but I just… this is so beautiful. Your passion about education is just one of a kind, truly. And the way how you made it your whole career and everything, I’m just… blown away,” he admits.

“Well, you made a career out of your passion too, didn’t you?” she chuckles softly.

“I did, but your story is just a little more touching,” he smirks. “Flora, I’m gonna be honest with you. I’ve been meaning to come up to you for a while and now that we officially met, I just—I would love to take you out on a date and get to know you better.”

She blushes again and Harry notes how well the pinky shade fits her even if she probably wishes she could control it more.

“That would be lovely,” she smiles shyly and grabbing a crane from her pile she grabs a pen from her bag and writes her number to the wing of it before handing it over to Harry.

He loves that she could have easily just typed it into his phone, yet she chose to do it this way. He smiles down at the crane and puts it into his bag, securing it as if it was his biggest treasure.

When Flora opens her door for Harry she is still wearing her apron that’s filled with tulips, a pair of simple jeans underneath it with a bright yellow shirt. Harry smiles as he leans down and greets her with a soft kiss. Ever since their first kiss he has been obsessed with stealing one whenever he has the chance. Their first one was nothing grandiose, such a simple and mundane moment but for him, it was perfect. They were visiting a gallery, he chose the exhibition hoping she’ll be a fan of it since the theme was botany, all paintings connected to flowers, gardens and plants and he was right. Flora was stunned, fascinated by each painting as they stopped at one after the other, taking their time to adore the works. They were looking at a painted garden filled with colorful wildflowers around a small cottage in the distance. Flora’s eyes wandered over all the tiny details as Harry stood close to her. She then leaned closer to point out her favorite flower and once they realized just how close their faces were, he just easily closed the gap and kissed her softly, surrounded with art, but he was convinced she was his favorite masterpiece he has ever seen.

“Hi, sorry, I’m a little late, dinner is not ready yet,” she huffs letting him inside. “Had to stay at the school a little longer than expected.”

“Don’t worry. Can I help with anything?” he asks following her into the kitchen, putting the bottle of wine he brought into the fridge to keep it cool until dinner.

“No, it’s fine. I just need about fifteen minutes to finish up the veggies,” she smiles at him and tiptoeing she steals a quick kiss. Harry hasn’t been the only one obsessed with kisses. “Make yourself home.”

Harry leaves to use the bathroom quickly and on his way back he finds himself wandering into her bedroom. He has been in her home just a few times before, only spending short minutes here when he was picking her up but now he has time to actually look around, hoping she won’t mind him snooping around.

Her whole place is just as colorful as she is always, each piece of furniture a different style and color, yet fitting so well when you see it as a whole. The quilted patchwork blanket over her bed is definitely homemade, each patch has a different flower on it while the left lower corner has Floortje embroidered into it. Harry wonders if it was made by a friend or family member, either way, it’s surely a special piece.

Her dresser is cluttered with rings, perfumes and endless amount of hair ties. She has complained before that her hair stretches her elastics out so fast, she keeps buying new ones every month. The little armchair in the corner is covered with a few of her used clothes, ones she’ll wear once more before putting them into the laundry basket.

As he walks over to her nightstand that’s filled with books, at least seven piled on each other, his eyes stop over something that makes his heart flutter.

A crooked little paper crane is sitting on the edge of the nightstand, the one he made the first time they talked, to be exact. Harry takes the bird and looks at it in awe, surprised that she kept it to herself. However he doesn’t find it odd, not even a little bit, since he has also kept the one she wrote her phone number onto, it’s sitting on his desk in his study.

“Found something interesting?” Flora walks in and Harry’s head whips towards her, feeling like he was just caught. But the warm smile on her lips is a telltale sign that she doesn’t mind him looking around.

“You kept it,” he states matter-of-factly, holding up the paper bird.

“Of course I did,” she nods, walking closer. “It’s a special one.”

“Thought you treat everyone and everything the same,” he teases smiling as he puts the crane back, his hands finding her waist.

“I guess there are a few exceptions,” she smirks slyly, her hands running up on his arms until they reach the base of his neck.

“Am I an exception?” The corners of his mouth curl up as he places the bird back on her nightstand and circle his arms around her waist.

“Did I say that?” she teases him. “I think I called your work a special one.”

Harry narrows his eyes at her, pretending to be hurt at her words, but he can’t push the growing smile back from his lips. They’ve been seeing each other for only over a month, but it was enough time to make him completely hooked on her. He is amazed by her in every possible way, feeling like he could never get enough of the ray of sunshine that Flora is. His favorite thing is that she makes him feel so normal, just an average guy dating a girl he met at a café. Not once did she treat him any different because of what he is and it’s just the feeling Harry has been looking for for such a long time.

“Come on, dinner is ready,” she smiles, pecking his lips before peeling his arms off of her frame, taking his hand as she pulls him out of the bedroom, however they surely end up in there again sometime after dinner, but with way less clothes on.

Harry watches as Flora plays with the bubbles in front of her, picking some foam up into her hair, watching it move around on her wet palm before blowing on it gently, her delicate fingers poking at the small bubbles that escaped from it. His hands are caressing her sides under the warm water that was once hot when they first got into it about an hour ago.

It’s been a lazy Sunday, Flora arrived early in the morning and went plant shopping. Her home has always been filled with plants and Harry has grown a liking to all the greenery, wanted some more in his house as well and Flora was more than happy to help him pick out the ones that are the easiest to take care of. Then they cooked lunch together, watched a movie and cleaned up the mess they made in the kitchen before running the bath. Harry has been loving these domestic days, lounging around his or her home, wearing comfy clothes and not caring about much of the outside words, just enjoying each other’s company.

“Remind me to buy peanut butter the next time I’m going grocery shopping,” she speaks up, leaning further back against his chest while Harry rests his chin on her shoulder, his arms tightening around her waist under the layer of bubbles.

“What do you need it for?” he hums, nudging her hair with his nose, her curls ticking his face, but he doesn’t mint it.

“I want to make cupcakes for the kids next week.”

“What for? Is there gonna be a special occasion?”

“No, they’ve just been super nice lately, we set up some new rules in the classroom and they’ve been really good following them.” Harry hums, loving how she is so eager to treat her students, he is convinced she is easily the best teacher he has ever came across.

“So peanut butter, huh? I think I need some too. Been dying to eat a good burger with some peanut butter.”

“I cannot believe you put peanut butter into your burgers,” she chuckles, peeking at him over her shoulder.

“Don’t bash it when you haven’t even tried!” he defends himself, kissing her cheek softly.

“The Aztecs would be so disappointed,” she sighs turning back forward, so she doesn’t see the puzzled look on Harry’s face.

“The Aztecs?”

“Yeah, they technically invented peanut butter,” she nods, as if it was common knowledge.

“Do I want to know why you know this about the history of peanut butter?” he chuckles softly.

“Well I had this kid last year who was obsessed with it and I started looking up fun facts for him for mornings when he looked a little moody. Then the others started enjoying it too so it became our morning thing that I told them a fun fact about anything.”

“Oh really? Tell me one then!” he asks smirking, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

“Okay, um…” she thinks to herself. “Do you know what the Olympic rings stand for?”

“I do not,” he shakes his head.

“The five rings stand for the five inhabited continents of the world, united by Olympism.”

“Sounds logical,” Harry nods. “Tell me another one,” he asks.

“Are you going to make me tell you all my fun facts?” she chuckles, turning a little so she can look into his beautiful green eyes.

“Maybe. I like it when you talk like this,” he smirks playfully.

“Like what?”

“Like… smart. I love how you know all these little things about the world and teach it to not just the kids but to me as well.”

“You don’t think I’m a smartass?”

“Why would I?” he questions, eyebrows furrowed.

“I used to be picked on in middle school because I liked to learn, more than what was required.”

“That doesn’t make you a smartass, baby. You don’t go around, correcting every tiny mistake around you. You use your knowledge to educate, like you should.”

Flora smiles softly at him, his words bringing the sense of reassurance she’s been seeking for so long. She pecks his lips shortly before turning back forward.

“Do you know how many days a billion seconds make up?” she asks, smiling to herself.

“I don’t.”

“11 574 days. That’s a little over 31 years.”

“So I haven’t lived a billion seconds in my life just yet,” Harry states, doing the quick math.

“No, you haven’t,” she smiles, mostly at the fact that he didn’t just listen to her little fun fact, but also thought about it a bit deeper.

They stay in the bath until the water gets cold and Harry keeps asking for fun facts and Flora gladly tells him whatever comes to her mind.

Harry finishes up the fresh salad, filled with Flora’s favorites: cherry tomatoes, feta cheese and corn with some kale, baby spinach and garlic dressing. He even sprinkled some sesame seeds on top, now he is pretty proud of his work, it looks like something influencers would snap in an aesthetic photo to their Instagram feed.

His bare feet tap against the hardwood floor as he makes his way to Flora’s bedroom where she is still curled up on her chair in front of her computer, her hair in a mess on top of her head, glasses perched up on the bridge of her nose. She hasn’t moved much from the spot in hours, intensely working on her thesis that should be finalized within the next two weeks. She has been gradually working on it over the last few months, in no mean she is behind, but she’s been extra nervous about making it as good as she wanted it when she started and Harry has been nothing but supporting about it, knowing how much it means to her. So he’s been her moral support, making sure she eats, gets some rest and doesn’t get herself too worked up about her research. She appreciates his efforts and though she often feels bad for neglecting him lately, he made sure to assure her, he’ll be right here when she is finally done with it.

Harry walks around the mountain of books on the floor she has piled up from the library these past two weeks as he walks up behind her while her fingers type away on her computer so fast he can barely believe she even understands what she’s typing.

“Hey,” he softly calls out, leaning down he kisses her cheek, holding the bowl of salad in front of her, drabbing her attention, making her gaze move from the screen to the food in front of her.

“Oh, hey! Is this for me?” she asks with a soft smile, lifting her head so she can look at him. Even with the circles under her eyes, the messy hair and worn out t-shirt that she’s wearing, he thinks she is the most wonderful creature he has ever seen.

“Yeah. Come take a break, yea?”

She doesn’t protest, just saves the file before moving away from the desk to the bed along with Harry. She props herself up against the headboard, a tired moan escaping her lips as her spine rests against the pillows under her back. Harry hands her the salad and she digs right into it, only just now realizing that she’s been feeling hungry for the past two hours, but ignored it entirely.

“How much do you have left?” Harry asks nodding towards the computer.

“I’m finishing up the last part, then I just have to write the abstract and then…” she explains, popping a tomato in her mouth. “It’s just gonna be the formatting. I think I’ll be done by Wednesday.”

“That’s great,” he smiles proudly. He has always admired how hardworking she’s been when it came to school and her profession. He could never imagine himself do the same, especially because he didn’t even finish high school. He used to feel a little self-conscious about it when they first started dating, afraid that she might think less of him because he didn’t finish his education properly, even though it was never something that bothered him. But Flora assured him that it makes absolutely no difference in her opinion about him.

“It’s not about the papers or how many schools you’ve finished. It’s about how you see the world and if you are willing to learn when it changes around you. And I think you are perfect in that department, your curiosity and openness makes you an excellent learner,” she told him without even thinking about it.

Harry lies on his side next to her, one hand propping his head up while the other one wanders to her thigh, massaging it gently. She hums to herself, enjoying the food he made and he can’t help the smile that creeps on his face. He loves taking care of her, especially because most of the times it’s her that takes care of him. Cooking for him after a long day at the studio, putting his laundry away while he is in an online meeting or writing him a list for when he goes grocery shopping, Flora has been watching out for him through these little things, but now it’s finally his turn to give it all back.

He’s been thinking about asking her to move in with him for a few weeks now, he just hasn’t been brave enough to bring it up, thinking that she might find it too early for such a big step, seeing that the two of them have been dating for a little over nine months. He’s been playing with the thought of coming home to her every single day, waking up next to her in the mornings, watch her form his home more to her liking, creating a space for the both of them, making it a home not just for him but her as well.

As she finishes up her salad, completely oblivious to what Harry is thinking about, he decides to bring it up once she is done with her thesis, not wanting to bother her in any possible way until she is finished.

“Mm, this was lifesaving, thank you,” she sighs, leaning over she kisses him softly as her appreciation for the sweet gesture. “I’ll finish up this one paragraph I’m in the middle of and then we could watch a movie. But strictly without subs, because I’m done with words for today,” she jokes, making him laugh as he takes the empty bowl from her hands.

“Sounds good,” he nods. “I’ll clean up in the kitchen and find something to watch while you finish.”

“Thank you.” As they both get up from the bed, she pulls him down for another kiss, Harry’s free hand finding the small of her back right away. “I love you,” she whispers against his lips, his heart fluttering in his chest at the words he has heard before, but it never fails to stun him.

“I love you too. Now go, finish it so we can cuddle,” he smiles, smacking her bum gently before they let go of each other.

“Ja, pappa. Dat klinkt fantastisch. Ik zal het hem vragen. Ja.” Yes, dad. That sounds fantastic. I’ll ask him. Yes.

Harry listens to Flora talk to her father on the phone as she applies her lip balm, the one she uses every night before going to bed. He loves it when she talks in Dutch, many tend to criticize the language, but not Harry. Or maybe it’s just because he only hears Flora talk it and he loves everything she does.

“Ja, dat is goed. Dank je. Tot ziens, pappa, ik hou van je!” Yes, that’s great. Thank you. See you soon, dad, love you!

She ends the call and switches the light off in the bathroom that’s been not just Harry’s but hers since she officially moved in with him just last week. Harry finally built up the courage to ask her opinion about the possibility of living together in the near future once she was free from the worries of her research and thesis. For his biggest surprise, she was on the exact same page as him, definitely a fan of the idea. So three weeks later they started slowly moving all her stuff over to his until her apartment completely emptied out. Now all her belongings are splattered across Harry’s home, they haven’t found the perfect place for everything just yet, but it’s slowly starting to feel like home for the both of them.

“Dad called, asked if we would go over for dinner this weekend,” she tells him, moving around the bedroom as she takes her little hoop earrings off, placing them in the shell she uses as a jewelry holder on top of the dresser. She is wearing a pair of yellow sweatpants with one of Harry’s shirts, nothing underneath them, just how Harry loves it.

“It’s cute how you always tell me it was your dad, but he is the only one you speak Dutch with,” he chuckles lowly as she climbs to bed, pulling the covers over the both of them.

“It comes so naturally, I don’t even realize I’m switching languages,” she admits smiling.

“Dinner sounds lovely,” he nods, getting back to what she was talking about before.

“Arnold is bringing his girlfriend too,” she smirks, her eyes sparkling from excitement.

“Your brother has a girlfriend now?” he hums, eyebrows rising at the new information.

“It’s the girl I saw him with at his basketball game last month. They made it official like two weeks ago.”

“And he is already bringing her home? He is not beating around the bush,” he chuckles. “Is it going to be the first time the girl meets your parents?”

“Yeah, so it’s gonna be exciting,” she nods, cuddling to his side.

Flora is playing with the little cross pendant on Harry’s chest and he is watching her delicate fingers flipping it over, her fingertips tickling his chest a little in the process.

“When we have kids, will you also teach them Dutch?” he suddenly questions, the words just blurting out of his mouth. Flora lifts her head, resting her chin on his chest as she looks into his curious eyes. She stays silent, but a small smile is tugging on her lips for sure.

“What?” he asks, feeling a little nervous. It’s the first time he is bringing having kids up, but he definitely has been thinking about it, especially since she has moved in. They haven’t been dating for that long, but Harry is one hundred percent sure he is in the long run with her.

“I just… love how you said when and not if.”

“Well, it’s a question of when for me. What about you?”

“Same goes for me,” she smiles warmly. “And yes, I do want my children to speak Dutch. It’s important to my family and me as well. How does that sit with you?”

“Totally fine. In fact, I always envied kids growing up who were taught another language so early in their childhood. Would love that for my kids as well.”

“Dan is het geregeld,” she smiles widely at him.

“What’s that mean?” He furrows his eyebrows.

“I said that, then it’s settled. We’ll have some cute, bilingual babies,” she chuckles, half jokingly, half seriously.

Today has just been one of those days that were doomed from the moment Harry opened his eyes. He has been overwhelmed with stress lately, working on new music, but his studio sessions haven’t been as successful as he wanted them. He is also flying out to LA for two weeks in just a couple of days and he has to miss Flora’s mom’s birthday this weekend, which has been torturing him with guilt ever since he found out he can’t push his trip back.

This morning it felt like the universe just plotted against him. He slipped in the shower, broke a glass in the kitchen and successfully ripped one of his favorite jeans when he was getting dressed. He had a one way ticket cranky city, turning Harry into a moody little child. It didn’t take him long until he started a fight with Flora over the smallest, most ridiculous thing. It started with how Flora misplaced a bowl in the cabinet and took him two moments longer to find it than usual, then they ended up disputing about every little thing about each other they’ve been finding annoying, but neither of them voiced their feelings about them.

Flora, on the other hand, was not in the mood to argue with Harry so early on a Tuesday morning and she chose to just walk away and let him stew in his own anger. Harry knew the moment he heard the front door shut that she was mad at him: she didn’t kiss him goodbye like she does every day before she leaves.

He took a cold shower to cool him down and clear his head, get his thoughts straight so he can apologize like she deserves. Getting into his car he drives to the florist he usually goes to when he needs flowers for whatever occasions. The old lady greets him with a warm smile and upon describing what he envisioned, she immediately knows what to create for him this time. The result is a giant, colorful bouquet that reminds him of Flora in every possible means.

Driving down to her school he is met with an extreme amount of nostalgia even though it’s not even the school he went to as a kid, but it still brings back some memories.

The security guard immediately stops him when he walks into the building, but once he has explained him the situation, the old guy gladly tells him which classroom is hers so he can go and surprise her. His footsteps echo in the empty hallways as it is the middle of the second period, all students are locked up in their classrooms, lucky for Harry, because he surely can’t deal with teenage girls recognizing him right now. Holding the flowers in one hand he stops when he finds room 414 and he can hear Flora’s voice coming from inside, enthusiastically explaining something about penguins and it makes Harry smile.

Even with such a horrible morning behind her, she is still giving one hundred for her students. He brings up his hand and softly knocks on the door, interrupting her speech.

“Come in!” she calls out and Harry opens the door, popping his head inside first, then holding up the bouquet of flowers, making the kids start chattering in excitement at his arrival while Flora is staring at him shocked.

“Miss Hoven, do you have a moment for me, please?” he asks with a shy but charming smile. She quickly gains back control over her features before turning to her class.

“Please start working on task two and five, I’ll be right back,” she orders, but the chatter doesn’t die down so she raises her voice at them. “This is not how we act when we have guests, guys!”

The kids are quick to quiet themselves, eyes curiously switching between their teacher and the intruder at the door.

“Miss Hoven, is this your husband?” one of the kids, a little blond boy asks.

“No, Michael, he is not. Harry is my boyfriend,” she answers calmly, heading towards the door.

“Wait, I know him!” a girl exclaims gasping. “He sings the watermelon song!”

“Lilian, no discussion now. Do the tasks!” Flora tells her before walking out, but keeping the door open so she can hear what’s happening inside. Her cheeks are flushed and eyes wide when she finally looks at Harry again. “What’s—What’s this?”

“These are for you,” he clears his throat, handing her the bouquet. “And I came here to apologize for being such an arsehole this morning. It wasn’t your fault, I’ve just been crankier lately and I took it all out on you. I’m very sorry.”

Flora’s eyes soften on him as she takes one of his hands with her free one, giving it a squeeze.

“I said some nasty stuff too, so I guess I’m sorry too,” she sighs, her anger and frustration from earlier now long gone.

“I brought that out of you, so I’ll take the blame,” Harry chuckles softly. “But the point is that I’m sorry.”

“Well, you are forgiven. You were even before you came here,” she assures him smiling warmly. “Why don’t we order something tonight and just get lazy on the couch?”

“You said you have some tests to go through.”

“That can wait. You’re leaving in two days so I want to spend time with you.”

“So we won’t get our tests back tomorrow?” they both hear a muffled voice coming from inside and Flora chuckles shaking her head as she opens the door wider and steps inside. A small group of kids run back to their seats, but not fast enough to not get caught.

“Lilian, would you mind telling me why you left your seat without permission?” Flora questions the girl who just rolls her lips into her mouth, pretending like she hasn’t even moved all along. Flora sighs stepping outside once again. “I gotta go now, but thank you for this. They look beautiful,” she tells Harry.

“I love you,” he murmurs and leaning down he kisses her quickly, feeling like he is breaking rules even though he is not a student or a teacher here.

“I love you too,” she smiles back before walking back inside and shutting the door. Harry stays for a minute, just out of curiosity to hear if the kids ask her some more questions about him.

“Miss Hoven?” a girl calls out and Harry bets it’s the same nosy girl who recognized him.

“Yes, Lilian?”

“You have a nice boyfriend,” she exclaims, earning a soft chuckle from Flora.

“Well thank you, Lilian, but let’s get back to our new unit. Let’s see the tasks you had to solve!”

The splashing sound of vomit arriving to the toilet hits Harry’s ears once again as he is rushing up the stairs with a glass of water and the Emetrol his hands that he dug the kitchen cabinets through for. Arriving to the master bathroom he finds Flora just where he left a few minutes ago, kneeling in front of the toilet, arms on the rim as she is taking a deep breath, hoping to calm her stomach and stop throwing up finally.

“Oh baby, here. Found you some Emetrol, this should help,” he coos gently, sitting down to the marble floor next to her he places the water beside him as he pours some of the liquid medicine into the cap for her. She lifts her head, skin pale as the wall, the dark circles under her eyes make his stomach churn, he hates to see her in this condition and wishes he could just help her.

“Thank you,” she mumbles, her shaking hand takes the cup and she downs the medicine before taking a few sips from the water. “Harry, I’m so sorry for ruining our date,” she sighs in defeat.

“Oh shush. Don’t you dare apologize for being sick,” he shakes his head, putting the Emetrol aside before he towers above her to redo her hair so it doesn’t fall to her face. Today marks their one year anniversary and though they only planned to go out for a nice dinner, nothing extra, Flora still feels bad they had to cancel on their reservation when she started throwing up this afternoon. She’s been feeling nauseous ever since she ate that leftover casserole for lunch. She had a feeling she should have just gotten rid of it, but she hated wasting food so ate it. Big mistake.

Harry’s fingers delicately work on her curls, piling them on the top of her heat before he secures the bun with professional movements using the elastic he tends to wear on his wrists, just because Flora always loses hers. He likes to keep one on him as well. His long haired days trained him well, her hair is neatly kept out of her face as she frowns, feeling her stomach churning again.

“Can I do anything else for you, baby?” he gently asks, pressing the back of his hand to her forehead to make sure she doesn’t have a fever, but she feels alright. She probably just has to get rid of the bad food.

“Can you please get me a wet washcloth?” she asks faintly. Sitting to her butt she leans against the wall beside her with her eyes closed.

Harry nods and he is on his feet in a blink of an eye, grabbing a washcloth from the cabinet and wetting it in some cool water. He kneels in front of her and starts gently tapping it against her cheeks, forehead and neck, wiping off the thin layer of sweat.

“This is not how I planned to spend our anniversary,” she groans with a frown, making him chuckle.

“We agreed, the anniversary is postponed. Don’t even think about it.”

“But I wanted to look nice for you, even bought a new dress.” She pouts her lips at him, eyes opening narrowly, glistening from the tears that watered them while she was throwing up.

“You always look nice, baby,” he softly tells her, letting her take the washcloth before she places it over her forehead.

“Even now? After you saw me throw up four times? We have very different versions for the word nice, H,” she jokes with a soft chuckle and Harry is thankful to see her smile, even if it’s still very faint and tired.

“Even now, baby,” he nods smirking and he is not lying. Though the situation is saddening, Harry still enjoys taking care of her, being the one she can rely on even on her worst days.

They sit on the bathroom floor as the medicine slowly works and she finally gets rid of the urge to throw up. Then Harry scoops her up and undressing the both of them, he helps her take a nice shower before dressing her in clean clothes, tossing their dirty ones into the laundry basket, noting to do them sometime in the morning.

When Flora is settled under the cover, head comfortably sinking into the pillow, she immediately feels her eyes closing, the strenuous afternoon has successfully sucked all her energy right out of her body. Harry brings her another big glass of water for the night and just to be sure, puts a trashcan next to her side, if things go south again. When he gets under the covers she is already half asleep, but she hums when his fingertips dance down the side of her face.

He allows himself to shamelessly admire her as she finally falls completely asleep, her lips parted as she slightly snores, but she looks so peaceful, the painful frown he saw on her face all afternoon is now gone from her beautiful face. He hasn’t fully wrapped his mind around how an entire year has passed with such a wonderful creature by his side. As their anniversary was coming up, he caught himself thinking about what the future is holding for them more often. There were so many things they needed to experience together, so much to see and do as partners and Harry couldn’t wait for it all to come.

As he lies in the bed next to her, a smile tugs on his pink lips at the thought of the possibility of spending the rest of his life with Flora. His future has never seemed brighter than in that moment.

“This is harder than I thought,” Flora admits, focusing on the instrument on her lap, trying to figure out if she is holding down the accords the right way, but a moment later Harry’s hand covers hers on the neck of the guitar and he fixes her fingers on the strings until they are in the right position.

“Like this. Try it now,” he murmurs, his chin resting on her shoulders as she is standing between his legs, back leant against his chest. Flora has been begging him to teach him a few accords on the guitar and today finally brought the moment Harry would turn into her master.

The two of them are sitting on the bed, Harry only in his underwear while Flora is in one of his hoodies with only her panties covering the lower parts of her body. Harry came back from a week-long trip to New York and they haven’t left the bed too much since he set his feet inside the house, only emerging from the bedroom to fulfill their other physical needs.

Flora’s fingers strum against the strings and the instrument comes to life, giving her a clear accord finally, bringing a triumphant smile to her lips.

“You are a natural talent, baby,” he smirks, giving her hips a gentle squeeze before kissing into her neck.

“Don’t tease me, I’m trying!” she warns her playfully, playing the chord again, loving how she can create such a beautiful sound with the instrument.

“Mm, you’re coming for my career?”

“Oh, surely. I think I would make an excellent rockstar,” she nods confidently, making him laugh.

“You are so not the rockstar type. More like the chill indie singer who dances barefoot on stage.”

“Yeah, but I could spice it up a little and make it rockstar-y,” she explains and glances back at him over her shoulder. “Don’t you think I would look hot in one of your stage costumes? Sparkly suit and all?”

“Oh I know you’d look amazing,” he nods eagerly. He has spent quite some time imagining her girl in one of his suits and he quite liked the thought. Flora chuckles as he puts the guitar aside before she turns around and straddles him, her knees on each of his sides.

“Yeah? I would need a better name, mine is not too fitting for a star,” she explains. “Easy for you, your name is basically the most perfect name for a rockstar.”

“You think so?” he cocks an eyebrow at her, his palms coming to cup her bum as he tilts his head backwards since this position makes her the taller one for a change.

“Harry Styles? Oh please, it’s like Anne knew she would give birth to a legend,” she scoffs making him laugh.

“I’ve been told it’s a nice one,” he shrugs smugly. “I think it’s the surname.”

“It’s pretty cool, yeah.”

“What if you had the same? Flora Styles? Sounds pretty badass,” he suggests and at first, she doesn’t even realize the hidden meaning behind his words, tasting the name so obliviously.

“Flora Styles? You might be right, the surname sounds very cool,” she agrees and it amazes him how easily it went over her head.

“You like it?”

“Mhm,” she nods, her hand reaching for the guitar once again, but Harry stops her, taking it between his as he blindly finds her ring finger that is now ringless.

“Do you like it enough to actually take it?” he questions, hoping she would get the hint now where this is heading. She blinks at him a little puzzled but it’s until she realizes that his fingers are fidgeting with her ring finger, more specifically where a ring would sit on it, his fingertips gently caressing the skin around it.

“Harry?” she gasps with wide eyes as she just watches his grin grow wider. “This is not… Are you--?”

“What?” he chuckles, feeling entertained how she lost all her smug confidence all of a sudden. “What’s it that you’re trying to say?”

“No, what is it that you are trying to say?!” she snaps back, still in shock about what he just implied. “Was this your sneaky way of… proposing?” she asks, whispering the last word as if it was a curse word.

“Why do you act like we have a forbidden love and marriage cannot be even mentioned?” he chuckles at her.

“Because I was shocked! Not that bad now though, you haven’t pulled out a ring so I guess it was just a cruel joke.” She narrows her eyes at him, kissing his smug grin shortly, but Harry is definitely not done with her just yet.

“I wouldn’t be that sure about it, baby,” he warns her before gently pushing her off her lap to get off the bed. Flora’s eyes widen as she follows him walk to his suitcase that’s still lying on the floor next to his dresser, waiting to be unpacked. He digs under his clothes before pulling out a small velvety box, making her gasp immediately. Harry gets back on bed as he holds out the box in front of her on his palm, not opening it just yet.

“Did you buy that in New York just this week?” she asks with her mouth hung open.

“I didn’t. I’ve had it for about a month, I just took it with myself because I was afraid you’d find it,” he chuckles as he plays around with it between his fingers. “Have been planning on it for a while, but I couldn’t come up with anything so then I just decided to wait for the right moment and go with the flow,” he explains.

“And this is the right moment?” she questions, her heart beating in her throat as her gaze is switching between Harry’s green eyes and the box in his hand.

“Felt like it, yeah,” he nods, the corners of his mouth curling up.

Silence settles between them as they both just wrap their heads around the weight of the moment. Harry’s heart flutters in his chest, a little afraid it’s too early. They’ve been dating a little over two years now, marriages have been tied way earlier in a relationship before, but Harry feared Flora would feel it too rushed just yet, however the question is out there now. Or is it?

“Well, are you gonna ask it?” she questions and as Harry’s eyes flicker up to meet her gaze, he is met with that playful challenge in them that he adores so much.

“I just asked,” he mutters.

“No, you asked if I would take your name. That’s not a proposal,” she reminds him and he realizes she is right. He never actually asked the big question.

So he finally pops the lid open revealing the vintage diamond ring he bought a month ago when he was just out and about. The moment his eyes laid on the jewelry, he knew it’s the one he’d like to see on your finger and bought it right away.

“Floortje Hoven, will you marry me?” he simply asks, his dimples digging deep into his cheeks as he smiles widely at his lover.

“I will,” she nods, her heart hammering in her chest as she watches him take the ring out of the box and carefully put it on her once empty ring finger. Still holding her hand, he brings it up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the ring before leaning in he connects his lips with hers.

-

Thank you for reading! Please like and/or reblog if you enjoyed!

[hxt1b]

As Long As I’m Here

Masterlist 

Taeyong x Reader 

Genre: Angst, CollegeAU (Hockey Player Taeyong)

Words: 5.7K

Warnings: Mature Themes (Mentions of Drunk Driving and Death. Sex.)

Accompanying Story: Isn’t It Lovely All Alone (Yuta)

A/N: I really hope you guys like this one. Please let me know what you think, it really means a lot to hear feedback from you guys. I also apologize about any grammatical errors, I did my best but some may have slipped through. Again, thank you for reading, I hope you guys like it. Ps. You guys don’t have to read the accompanying story to read this. This can be read as a stand alone!

“You were once told that guardian angels existed. You were sure yours brought you him.”

Smile, wave. Smile, head nod. Smile, say hi. They did it all, you were tired of it all. People would see you but no one wanted to get to know you. You were the silent girl in the corner of the class that no one gave a shit about. No one cared that one day you had the happiest life and the next it was crumbled at your feet. A dead limp hand crushing every sense of normalcy you had. Destroying any little hope you had in one wrong turn. 

Scowling at the ground you kept your eyes away from those smiles, you made your way to your first class of the day. As each day passed by you began to regret this class more and more. She had been the one to pick it. Her obsession with him had been what had driven her to want to be in this class roping you along in the process. 

“He’s bound to be in sports medicine.” She’d said to you in the summer while you had made your schedules. You’d just laughed at her, but you agreed. You always agreed. 

Now she was gone, laying six feet under the ground in a cold grave and you were the one stuck in this class. Having to see their faces every day, they laughed and talked to each other loudly in class. You didn’t blame them, but you did. 

The classroom was empty when you got to it. Which made sense you were early. You went to the back corner of the room and took your seat. As a fourth-year class, it was small only about a hundred kids in the class. Putting your bag down you pulled out your laptop getting ready for the class. 

They came in laughing, they were always laughing, you leaned your head onto your hand and looked out the window keeping your gaze away from them. Slowly the classroom filled up and the professor entered last. You actually liked the prof she was younger than all the other profs you had, and she was easy to talk to, she understood the pressure university put on you and accounted for the fact that each kid had a lot more on their plate and suited her syllabus to that, too bad you just simply hated her class. 

“I’ve graded your quizzes I will be handing them back at the end of today’s class. Speaking of which, today's class will be only half our regular time -” You tuned her out as she continued not caring to pay attention any longer. You watched the breeze outside the window as it made the trees dance, the green leaves giving way to the oranges and reds of autumn your mind drifting off to all the places you try to forget, to all the memories you won’t relive and all the memories you’ll never make. 

“Okay, that’s it. Come up to my desk and grab your quiz from me as you go.” You slowly began to pack in no rush to be anywhere particular, your empty apartment was waiting for you nothing else anyway. 

You rose from your seat swinging your bag on and making your way to the front of the classroom. The professor looked at you as you walked up to her and fished your quiz out from the pile handing it to you with a small smile of pity. You weren’t shocked when you turned the quiz around and looked at the thirty-four percent at the top of the sheet. Shrugging you turned away from her desk bumping straight into a hard shoulder. Somehow, he managed to knock your quiz out of your hand. 

“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” Taeyong said. You rolled your eyes and quickly bent to grab your quiz. You ignored him as you straightened up and pushed past him making sure you didn’t look at him. Taeyong. You hated that name so much; your feelings were beyond your grasp. They always tunnelled into a monumental force that you could never reign in. 

Making your way out of the classroom you decided to go to the library instead of back to your apartment. You didn’t have any other class today but going back to the silence of your apartment seemed like torture you weren’t ready for. 

The heat in the library never seemed to work, but you didn’t mind the cold helped to numb your brain while you read. You made your way to the corner of the library that was home to the books that weren’t about academics. Dumping your bag down in a corner on the floor you made your way through the shelves looking for something to read. Something to take your mind away from the bitter anger that you constantly stayed in. Finding the book you wanted, you head back to your spot and sank into the ground next to your bag and opened the book. 

You heard them like usual before you saw them. Their loud whispers carrying through the air to you accompanied by their footfalls as they neared. You didn’t look up you didn’t need to, you knew they’d ignore you and you were fine with it. After a little bit, you couldn’t hear them anymore, getting sucked into your book you ignored the world around you, your mind falling into the faraway world of the book. 

“Hey, can I sit here?” You were startled when the voice harshly pulled you out from your head and back to the real world. Lifting your head from your book you looked up. He was standing there with a soft smile on his face. His friends were gone. 

Taeyong, Yuta, Johnny, they were always together, and you hated them all. You couldn’t help the words that fell out of your mouth.  

“Did your friends ditch you or something? Go find them to sit with.” You quickly turned your head back to your book staring at the words on the page, but he didn’t move and you couldn’t read. The words morphed together on the page as the seconds ticked by before you looked back up at him. A slow laugh floated out his lips as you met his eyes. 

“They did in fact leave me. They had a meeting for some class that they're in.” He was still smiling his smile more amused than before. 

“You still can’t sit here.” You replied. 

“Well,” He started and looked around, “I guess I’ll just sit over there then.” 

He moved about five steps to your right and dumped his bag down taking a seat beside it and pulling out his laptop. You frowned in his direction glaring at him slightly before returning to your book trying your best to read and ignore the imposing boy near you. 

You didn’t turn the page before he spoke again. 

“Do you have a pen I could borrow?” You glared at him again before rolling your eyes and digging into your bag to grab an extra pen. You lightly threw it in his direction before going back to reading. Or at least trying to. 

He cleared his throat again a couple of minutes later grabbing your attention, “Uh so do you have sticky notes?” You sighed deeply moving towards your backpack again to grab a pad of sticky notes and chucking it at him. The silence lasted about fifteen minutes before he spoke again. 

“Do you -”

“No.” 

         The next morning you didn’t leave your apartment, you didn’t want to your brain was too weighed down to move out of your bed. You wasted away the morning falling in and out of sleep. At two pm your mom called, you sighed answering the phone. Her cheery tone coming in through the speaker asking you how your day was. You lied telling her about how you had a good day, making your tone much happier than you felt. You told her a false story about how great you did on your quiz for the sports medicine class and she cheered for you telling you to keep up the great work. 

When she hung up you felt the tears prick at your eyes. Closing them as they stung you took large breaths to calm yourself down before forcing yourself out of bed. You dragged your feet into the bathroom and took a quick shower before getting dressed in warm layers of clothing and made you way out of your apartment. You made your way to the café two blocks away from your home. The warm ambiance of the café welcoming you in as you sniffled from the cold. 

“Hey, wow you come to this café too?” His voice slammed into you as your eyes widened. You looked to your left from where his voice came. Taeyong was sitting at a table with his laptop open in front of him, an empty coffee cup pushed away from him and a half-eaten piece of cake. 

“Looks like it.” You replied flatly before moving towards the line. Pulling your wallet out of your pocket you pulled out your card. You didn’t need to look at the menu you already knew what you wanted. 

“What are you gonna get?” He was behind you. 

“Didn’t you already order?” You asked in return glancing at him over your shoulder. 

“I – uh well, yeah.” You turned your head back towards the front. “But I wanted another drink.” 

You ignored him the rest of the time that you stood in line. When it was your turn you ordered a coffee and chocolate chip muffin. 

“Anything else?” The barista asked smiling at you. 

“Oh yeah, an iced americano as well please,” Taeyong said cutting you off before you could speak. The girl behind the counter didn’t bat an eye as she punched that in and then told you the total. You were staring at Taeyong with your mouth slightly open due to the shock that you felt. You narrowed your eyes at him and moved to pay, you were again cut off by him as he moved his card over the machine. 

“I got this.” He said and smiled at you. You didn’t smile back. 

“Well thank you I guess.” You said and moved out of the way so that the next person could order. 

The both of you stood beside each other silently as you waited for your order to be done, your drink came out first followed by your muffin. You moved to grab them but Taeyong scooped them up before you could. 

“Uh-”

“I’m just gonna take them to our table. Grab my drink when it gets out.” You scowled at his back as he turned away from you and went back to his seat. His drink came out not even seconds later. You thanked the barista and made your way over to his table. Putting his drink down in front of him you made to grab for your stuff and leave. 

“Whoa, where are you going?” He asked grabbing your wrist as you grabbed for the muffin. “I bought it, come on the least you can do is sit with me.” You stared at him for a second, finally properly looking at him. His big eyes were looking up at you expectantly, his lips formed into a small pout. You sighed and wiggled your wrist out of his. This was the hockey team’s captain? His pout gave way to a large smile as you took the seat from across him. He closed his laptop as you got comfortable in front of him. 

You took him in as you took a sip of your coffee, his dark hair was died a blue so dark you thought it was black, and his skin was smooth. It made you jealous just looking at him a hockey player had no business looking this…beautiful.

“You’re staring at me.” He said snapping you out of your daze. 

“Why am I sitting with you?” You asked in turn ignoring the fact that you had indeed been staring at him. 

“Why not?” He asked in turn, “It’s better than sitting alone isn’t it?” 

You stared at him again, he took a sip from his straw you watched as his throat worked, swallowing the drink. You didn’t say anything in reply. He was right it was better than sitting alone, but he and his friends were a reminder of what you had lost. 

The rest of your time was spent with him talking and asking you questions about your day, you told him the same story you told your mom. 

        The next day you had the sports medicine class again. Your alarm went off and today you got out of your bed not wanting to repeat yesterday. You dragged yourself up and got ready for the day. 

The class was the same as always, you not paying attention as the prof spoke about whatever topic. When the class ended you didn’t pack slowly, today you packed quickly to get out of the room before Taeyong decided he wanted to talk to you again. 

You rushed out of the classroom, and out the building, you were halfway down the stairs when your ankle rolled and you plummeted down the five stairs left. Your hand slammed into the ground hard and your foot ached. Luckily you didn’t slam your head into the ground. 

Groaning you moved slowly to get up, grabbing the railing you heaved yourself up by using the hand that hadn’t been hurt. You took large breaths as you finally came to stand. People around you ignored you walking by you as you clung to the railing trying to not cry at the pain. 

“Are you okay?” He was there staring down at you with a worried expression on his face. You couldn’t look at him for longer than a couple of seconds. Why was he all of a sudden everywhere? Why was he always around you? He didn’t even know you.  

He came down the steps taking in how you were standing, noticing the water gathering in your eyes. 

“Did you fall?” He asked. You only looked down letting your hair fall around your face. You didn’t need this from him. You didn’t need him to hound you, you didn’t need him to buy you coffee, you didn’t need him to sit with you in the library. You didn’t need his pity. 

“Leave me alone Taeyong.” He didn’t reply and you didn’t look up. But he didn’t move away from you. 

“Let me help you home.” You closed your eyes pain rolling up your foot as you put it flat on the ground. 

“I’m fine I can make it myself. Just – just go away.” You moved off the railing talking a slow and painful step away from him. You couldn’t help but limp. 

“You’re clearly not fine. Just let me help you.” He said grabbing your arm as you took another painfully slow step. 

“Look I don’t need your pity.” You snapped at him yanking your arm out of his hand. He was silent for a second before he laughed. Snapping your head towards him again you frowned. 

“You think I pity you?” Even though he laughed you could see that the statement bothered him. His eyes weren’t shining the way they always did when he spoke. “I don’t pity you Y/N. Some people can just be nice to others without having an underlying reason.” 

You still frowned at him, but you let him take your bag. You let him wrap his arm around your waist as you wrapped yours around his shoulder and you told him how to get to your apartment.

For the rest of the week, he checked on you, making sure your foot was getting better, taking you anywhere you wanted to go. He kept you company and for the first time in a long while you felt less lonely.      

        Loud knocks pulled you away from the Netflix show you were watching. You knew it was Taeyong, only because no one else came to your apartment.    

“You know I’m fine now. You don’t have to keep coming over.” You stated while pulling open the door. He laughed pushing past you. He put the takeout he brought onto your coffee table making himself comfortable on your couch. 

“Maybe I just like you.” He spoke. Your breath stopped for a second. Like you. You turned away from him to lock the door. You willed your face to calm down as you turned back around, not having anything to say back to what he said. You made your way back to the couch and sat beside him. He passed you cutlery as he unpacked the food. You tried not to stare at him as he sat across from you on the couch and ate. Periodically stealing a glance, you tried your best to not be obvious. Halfway through the show that you had started, you stole another glance at him, only to find him already looking at you. 

“You're cute you know that?” The words that he said didn’t register in your head. He leaned to the side of his hand getting closer to you. “The way you keep glancing at me thinking I’m not noticing.” Your breath hitched in your throat when he leaned further towards his other hand moving onto your thigh. 

“I’m going to kiss you Y/N.” His face a centimetre away from yours. You didn’t stop him. 

You didn’t stop him when that kiss turned from a simple kiss to something more. When his hands travelled under your shirt, into your pants. You didn’t stop when he guided your hand to him when he pushed himself into you. You didn’t stop yourself from letting his name roll off your tongue as the world split in two. You didn’t stop him when he pulled you close to him after whispering into your ear how perfect you were. 

“I like you Y/N.” He said again as you drifted off in his arms, your head pressed into his chest. You didn’t stop yourself when your heart melted at his words. When your brain said them back to him. But you stopped yourself when the words made their way to your lips. You stopped yourself then. 

You wanted to blame him still. You wanted to blame him and his friends still. But every day that he spoke to you, every day that he went out of his way to find you. You realized you couldn’t because he started coming with you to the library every Monday. He went to the café with you on Tuesday. On Wednesday he’d walk you home. On Thursday he’d bring over dinner to your apartment after his practice, and Friday to Saturday he was busy with hockey, so you didn’t see him. But each day that passed you realized he was not to blame, he was a kind-hearted boy who chose to see the good in the world, and for some reason, he was forcing his way into your life, into your heart. You found yourself looking forward to the moments that Taeyong would come and find you. To the moments where he would text you or call you at night to see how you were. He saw you, you realized, and he stayed. He stayed even though you were a mess. Even though you would snap at him, even though you didn’t deserve him. He stayed, he showed up. And slowly you were faced with the fact staring blankly in your face that you couldn’t blame anyone but yourself. Because despite everything you didn’t show up that day. 

“Come on Y/N, Yuta will be there, and he actually invited us himself,” Ara begged. You just shook your head at her. 

“I can’t today. I’m not feeling it.” You stayed seated on the couch as she tugged on your arm, a laugh erupting from you at her childish antics. 

“But you’re my best friend in the whole wide world I need you there with me!” Her expression was desperate, it made you laugh even more. 

“Sorry Ara, but I don’t feel like it. I’ll go next time though. If he invited, you once he’ll invite you again.” You reasoned. She stopped tugging on you and sighed obviously annoyed but letting you go. 

“Okay fine.” 

You passed out on the couch and woke hours later. Seven missed calls from Ara, and then a missed call from an unknown number only a couple of minutes ago. Confused you called Ara back, but she didn’t answer. Worry etched away at your stomach as you tried again, Again no answer. 

The unknown number called again. You gripped the counter to not fall over as shock ran through your body your mind being taken over by a loud ringing you couldn’t understand what the voice on the line was saying any more just that she was gone. 

You were pulled out of your head as your phone started to ring in your hand. Taeyong. You were sitting alone in your living room in the dark, your eyes glued to the phone as you tried to push away the dark thoughts that entered your head. The call ended the screen going black and a sense of urgency ripped through you a panic that rattled around your insides. Unlocking your phone quickly, you called him back. 

“Hey.” He chirped through the phone. 

“Are you okay?” It spilled out of your mouth before you could stop it. You sounded winded and frantic. 

“Yeah,” His word was slow, “Y/N are you okay?” he asked in turn. You froze. No. 

“Yes.” If you’d been awake and answered maybe she’d have answered just the way he did. 

But you let her die. You didn’t go with her. Then you fell asleep and didn’t answer her call. She got into the car with a drunk idiot and died. You could have stopped it. If you had answered right away maybe she would have replied just like he did. With a happy ‘hey.’ 

“Y/N?” His voice tugged at you again, pulling you back to him and away from your own mind. “Are you there?” 

“Yes, what did you say?” 

“Did you wanna come out for a drink with me and the guys?” 

“Yes.” 

        You didn’t understand why he was being so kind. You hadn’t done anything to deserve the kindness that he was just giving you. He was making sure you didn’t feel uncomfortable with his friends. In the time that you two had been hanging out he’d learned so much about you and you were realizing it only just today. He knew what drink you wanted and had it for you before you even got there. He let you sit on the outside of the bench in the booth because he knew you’d hate it on the inside. He gathered so much information about you in the time and you knew what? Nothing.  

“So, you’re the girl that’s been keeping our captain busy for the past month and a half.” Johnny teased you once everyone had settled into their spots. You smiled at him red painting your cheeks. Taeyong pulled you into his side shooting Johnny a warning glare that you noticed. 

You sat with them as they spoke about their upcoming game schedule. As they commented on the games that appeared on the screens all around the bar. You spoke only when they asked you a question or when you had a question yourself. You’d direct it to Taeyong, and he’d answer back softly explaining whatever thing you’d asked him about the sport he played. Slowly it became too much, you looked at the boys around you at the table, at their laughing faces and you realized you didn’t fit in here. You didn’t fit into his world. You didn’t fit into anyone’s world, you barely fit into your own. You didn’t deserve to sit at this table, not with the laughter that floated around you. You couldn’t help but feel that there was a laugh missing. This was what Ara had wanted so bad. To sit at a table with them. to sit next to the boy sitting right in front of you, she’d wanted to be tucked under his arm just as you were tucked under Taeyong’s. 

“I have to go.” You said and abruptly got up, shocking them into an abrupt silence as you ran out the bar and down the street. Tears began to run down your cheeks, and you tried to get far away from them, far away from him. 

“Y/N!” You didn’t look back, but you knew he was following you; you couldn’t take it. You didn’t deserve to sit with them, you didn’t deserve to be with him. Not when this was what she’d wanted. Not when she should have been here with you. With them. 

He caught your wrist spinning you around to face him, but you didn’t look at him, you turned your head to the side biting your lip as tears ran down your face still. 

“Let me go Taeyong.” You said your voice small and shaking. His grip on your wrist only tightened. 

“No.” 

A sob threatened to rip out your mouth. You closed your eyes and took in slow breaths. 

“Talk to me, what’s wrong?” He said and pulled you closer to him. 

“I – I can’t -” It was getting hard to breathe as you buried your head into his chest. He wrapped his arm around you holding you tight as you silently cried. Pulling away only slightly when you calmed down a little bit, he looked at your red face. Your eyes were swollen and your lips cracked. You looked like a mess, runny nose and all. 

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it.” He spoke. You stared back up at him, you took in the way his gentle eyes looked at you the way his hair blew in the autumn wind, the way his ears were tinted red from the cold. You couldn’t help yourself you pushed up on your feet and pressed your lips against his. He instantly replied, his mouth moving against yours. His hands tightening on the fabric of your jacket. You kissed him until you couldn’t breathe again until every breathe you had felt like his. Until you couldn’t take anymore. You didn’t deserve him. 

Pulling away from him you pushed him away from you. 

“I can’t do this. I can’t -” You couldn’t finish your sentence. You ran away from him again. He yelled your name again into the night air, but you didn’t look back didn’t look to see if he was following. You ran, ran until your lungs were gasping for breath until your throat was so dry that you couldn’t swallow your own spit. Until your legs gave out and you fell onto the grass gasping for air. 

This was how your life had been, this is what you deserved.

        The following week you didn’t go to school, you didn’t answer any of his calls. He came to your door every day and you ignored him. You barely ate and slept. You didn’t even make it to the shower most days. I deserve this. You’d tell yourself over and over in your head. Until there were no other thoughts but those three words drowning you. 

It was Monday, and he’d had enough. You could tell because the banging at your door was so loud that you could feel it in your head. You’d just gotten out of the shower and had gotten back into bed. Pulling the covers over your head. Slowly you got out of bed and made your way to the door. He wasn’t going to leave today. You could tell. You opened the locks and then the door. 

The lights in the hallway were so bright they made him look ethereal. He was in a black bomber jacket paired with jeans. His nose and ears were red from the cold again. You squinted up at him. You watched his pained eyes take you in, the dark circles under your eyes the way you looked small. 

“Go away.” You said, not being able to look at him any longer, not being able to stand the emotions in his eyes. He caught the door as you closed it, he pushed back against it opening it and moving in past you. 

“Stop ignoring me.” He said and closed the door. He reached for you, his hand grabbing air as you stepped far out of his reach. 

 “Did I do something wrong?” His face breaking as he asked you. Your eyes widened at him and your heart cracked more than it already had. 

“No.” 

“Then why?” You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t say anything. He took a step towards you and you moved back again. “Why?” His voice was small, pleading with you. You closed your eyes as tears gathered again. 

“I don’t deserve you okay?” Your voice harsh. You didn’t look at him as tears spilled down your cheeks, you turned your head down letting your hair cover your face. Opening your eyes, you watched as your tears hit the hardwood floor of your living room. 

“I don’t deserve anything. She died because I couldn’t help her.” Your vision blurred more and more, as you spoke. You felt him take a step towards you and you took another back. “I’ll just ruin you.” 

“Ara?” He asked. Your head snapped up to him, his eyes were tearing up as well as he looked at you. You were shocked that her name came out of his mouth. You put your hand over your mouth as a sob tore from you. He took another step towards you, and you took one back hitting the wall behind you. Finally, he had his arms around you, he pulled you into his chest. 

“That wasn’t your fault.” He spoke. “That was on the guy who lied to her and told her he didn’t drink. That was on the guy who let her get into his car.” You sobbed into his chest as he spoke. “I know about her Y/N I was at that party. Yuta was wreaked for weeks after that. But it isn’t his fault. It’s most certainly not your fault. I didn’t realize that you were her best friend until Yuta told me after he met you at the bar.” You only sobbed harder into his chest. 

“I can’t change your mind baby; I can just tell you that you deserve happiness. You deserve good things in your life. I didn’t know Ara, but I do know that she'd hate to see you like this.” His hand moved from the back of your head to the side of your face, pulling your face up to look into his eyes. 

“If anything, babe I don’t deserve you.” He said, more tears slipped down your face. He was perfect. That was the only thing your brain could think as you looked up at him. His warm hand on your cheek, his arm wrapped around you. The warmth of his body against yours. Everything about him. He was perfect. 

He put his forehead against yours, your breathing turning into his as your breathing became shallow. His mouth inches away from your own, your hand knotting into the front of his t-shirt you pulled yourself up, closing the small gap between you and him. His mouth was warm and careful. He was going slow, afraid you’d scare away. But you weren’t going to. You may not be okay yet, but you weren’t gonna get better without him. You needed him. You wanted him. He was your cure. You’d get better for him, with him. 

Ara’s mother told you the day of her funeral that people never truly leave us, they come back to watch over us. You full-heartedly believed that this had Ara written all over it. Taeyong randomly showing up to sit by you in the library, at the café, helping you when you got hurt, calling you at the right time all the time, cheering you up before you could even get down, moving his way into your life. This had the scheming hand of your best friend all over it. 

You deepened the kiss leaning into the wall, pulling him with you. His hand moved under your shirt pulling it up over your head, only leaving your mouth for that one second to get it over your head. 

Somehow the two of you were in your bed, all your clothes gone, his mouth was moving down your neck leaving small marks down your throat on your collarbone to the swell of your breasts. With each bite a small moan left you, each kiss took your breath away. His mouth closed around the hard nub of your nipple pulling on it gently with his teeth, drawing his name from your mouth. His head moved lower, lower until you couldn’t take it anymore. Pulling him back up to you, you pressed your mouth against his, his tongue finding his way to yours instantly. 

“I need you now.” You said, wrapping your arm around his shoulder. He looked down at you with so much emotion in his eyes, so much care you almost melted from just his gaze. “Please.” With that, he pressed his mouth back to yours lining himself up at your entrance. His lips moved against yours as he pushed in, swallowing your moan as he filled you. 

You moaned, your mouth leaving his as his hips moved against yours. Only the sounds of moans and your skin against his filing up your small room. 

He pressed his forehead against yours, “Look at me, babe.” You opened your eyes and held his gaze your back arched as the world faded to a bright white, his name rolling off your tongue as he nipped at your bottom lip. His thrusts became rushed as he soon followed moaning into your neck, before relaxing on top of you. You kissed him again as you both calmed down. 

After some time, he pulled out, laying beside you and pulling you into his chest. He kissed the top of your head as you started to drift off. 

“I love you Y/N.” This time you didn’t stop yourself. 

“I love you too Taeyong.” 

A/N: The next part will be Yuta’s I’m going to make this a three part trilogy! Please let me know your thoughts, it means a lot to hear what you guy think!

[let-them-read-fics]

Yours Truly (Pt. 1)

Requested By: Some of you!

Pairing: Jisoo x Fem!Reader

AU: College

Word Count: ~ Part 1 -> 9,786 // Part 2 -> 7,433

Warnings / Misc. -- Pining, Angst, Fluff

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Hey everyone! I finally have a few days off, so we're back to our (semi) regularly scheduled programming with this fic! I really hope you enjoy it; lmk what you think :)

PS ~ Once again, I had to split it into two parts to appease the Tumblr Overlords.

♡ Happy Reading ♡

Part 2 -- Click Here

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

1.) A Day In Class

Where does true beauty come from?

Is it strictly based in someone's DNA, rooted entirely in the attractiveness of their features? Or is deeper than that; does it extend from their soul? The very essence of stardust and personality that makes them them? Is it in how they interact with others? How they carry themselves? 

You, being the wannabe philosopher that you are, love hearing people's answers to those questions. Every response is unique in its own way, altered depending on the person asked, and you find that to be one of humanity's most wonderful qualities. Like snowflakes, we're all different; as such is our definition of beauty. It lies in the eye of the beholder, subjective in its nature, and you find that comforting. Just think: if 99% of the world's population found you unattractive, 78,000,000 would beg to differ. 

Though, for one person, you're sure those rules don't apply. She's objectively beautiful, and no one even attempts to pretend otherwise. 

Who, you may ask? Kim Jisoo, of course -- head of your school's student council, resident girl next door, and keeper of your heart. She's poised in every way, and refined to the point that you question if you're even deserving of knowing her. Humor and kindness radiate from her no matter where she goes, so it's really no surprise that so many people love her. 

A tap on your shoulder pulls you from your thoughts, and you turn to look at your best friend. "Yo, Y/N. What did you get for number 32?" Jeong asks from his seat in the row directly behind you, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. Your history professor likely wouldn't take kindly to being interrupted during his lecture, so you choose to show him your answer instead of responding out loud. 

Jeong thanks you and continues to work on the activity you finished nearly 15 minutes ago, leaving you to half-heartedly listen to your professor. You're a good student, but even you have a limit to how much monotonous speaking you can handle in one sitting. As his words drone on, you roll your neck -- intending for the action to relieve some of the tension in your aching muscles; you're in for a surprise, however, when you lock eyes with none other than Jisoo herself. She offers a warm smile and wave, and the innocent actions send swarms of butterflies to take flight in your stomach. After sitting there for a moment, dumbstruck by her beauty, you snap to and return the gesture, making her giggle quietly. 

Huh. So that's what angels sound like, then.

She turns back to her work after a minute, flipping the page every so often as she follows along with the lesson. You take note of how her eyes dart across the materials laid out on her desk, how her fingers mindlessly flirt with the edge of her sleeve in contemplation when she gets to a question that stumps her.

Never have you ever found yourself in such inner turmoil before. The sight before you begs to be seen -- to be admired -- but class continues on. As much as you try to fight it, your resolve eventually crumbles; foreign concepts now falling on fully deaf ears, you allow yourself to be entranced. 

2.) Out In The Square

A Few Hours Later

Throngs of people stretch out before you, everyone making their way to various parts of campus as the blazingly hot sun beats down on them. Some run like their lives depend on it -- likely having overslept or missed campus transit -- while others take their time, catching up with friends and gossiping all the while. The soft pfft of sprinklers set up across the sections of lawn around you can be heard, going off every so often, and occasionally they're followed by the shouts of some unfortunate people getting soaked. 

"You're so lucky, Y/N," Jeong groans from behind you. A grimace sits on his face as he flips through the pages of his Trigonometry book, looking for the reference graphs again. "No more classes for the rest of the week and you don't have any more assignments to finish? Remind me again how to become a teacher's pet, please." You roll your eyes with an amused smile, leaning back on your elbows to talk to him. 

"I'm not a teacher's pet, Jeong. I just do my work on time instead of partying every night." He picks up a leftover piece of bread from the picnic basket that sits to his right and tosses it at you in retaliation to your little remark. 

"I don't care what you say, those parties are always epic. One of these days I'll convince you to come along." 

You shake your head, knowing there's no way you'd willingly attend one of them. From his stories, all those "epic" nights consist of is ridiculously drunken beer pong, sweaty people doing jello shots, and regrets.

"Not in a million years, loser." You say adamantly, not letting him trick himself into believing he's capable of swaying you. 

With one last muttered phrase of, "we'll see about that," he returns to his studies, and you turn your attention elsewhere.

Scattered light filters in through the leaves of the tree you're sitting under, wrapping you in a blanket of warmth as your eyes scan across the crowd again. The sight brings to mind an idea that always fascinates you: everyone you meet is busy creating their own stories, writing and rewriting new possibilities and endings for themselves with each new choice they make. You can hear snippets of their conversations -- see instances of some having their best days while others are living through their worst -- and it really puts things into perspective. Although we may appear as side characters in those books of life that others are writing for themselves, we have no idea what they're going through at any given moment. So, you believe, that makes it all the more important to leave a positive impact on them; whether it be a kind smile, holding the door, or even a simple compliment, you're determined to have your legacy be one rooted in kindness. 

Speaking of kindness in human form…

There she is, you think to yourself, feeling that all too familiar pitter patter of your heart pick up. Jisoo exits Building C, where her latest lecture just ended, and rushes down the stairs with her books in her arms. She's studying to become an actress, as far as you know, and you can't help but smile at the thought; she'll make an amazing star someday. 

You watch as she meets up with 3 other girls, whom you immediately recognize as Lisa, Rosé, and Jennie, and they eagerly bounce their way over to the refreshment truck that one of your school's clubs had been so considerate to hire. It's the perfect day for a cold treat, after all. 

Jisoo's dark hair flows in the gentle breeze that rolls in, looking like silk as it rides the currents. She's gorgeous in every way, and you can't help but be smitten; besides, it's not like you're not alone in your pining. She practically has the entire student body wrapped around her finger. 

"Y/N, don't forget to blink. You're staring pretty hard," Yuqi says, raising up onto her elbow beside Jeong. He laughs with her, but his eyes remain glued to the notebook paper he's scribbling his work onto.

Your eyes dart away following her statement, and you know you've been caught. "I thought you were asleep," you bite back, attempting to hide the blush of embarrassment that's quickly flooding to your cheeks. 

"I was, but I guess my intuition as your best friend woke me up. It's my mission in life to tease you." 

"So I've gathered," you sarcastically smile at each other, making stupid faces like always. 

"You love me," she flips her hair over her shoulder, appearing self-assured with the smirk that tugs at her lips. 

"Do I though? I don't know sometimes..." she socks you in the arm, making you chuckle. 

"All jokes, babe. Don't pout," you pinch her cheek until she grins, and then she begins telling you all about the dream she just had. 

----

Jisoo leads her gang over to one of the nearby tables, making sure to choose her seat strategically. A special someone caught her attention earlier, as they have from the moment she first laid eyes on them months ago, and she hasn't been able to fight the urge to admire them. She watches as they laugh along with something their friend said, tilting their head back as the cheerful noise rings out. She finds herself smiling along, imagining what it would be like to make them laugh like that; it's a uniquely wonderful sound, and she can't help but adore it. 

They lean across the blanket they're sitting on and dig through a picnic basket, retrieving what seems to be a sandwich packaged up in plastic wrap. One of their friends exaggeratedly thanks them, tackling them to the ground in a messy hug with a shout of gratitude that even Jisoo can hear from across the square. 

"Earth to Jisoo!" Jennie says, raising her voice slightly as she snaps her fingers in front of the unnie. The former jolts back to attention with a little jump, clearing her throat to gather her thoughts. 

"You know, you could always go talk to him. I've heard he's sweet." She tells the other girl, noticing the look of longing that's befallen her features. 

"Yeah, Joy has Art with him on Thursdays. I think his name's Jeong or something like that." Lisa butts in before taking another lick of her ice cream. 

Despite being so smart, the girls are really oblivious sometimes; Jisoo wasn't looking at him at all. She was looking at you. 

She doesn't know if now is the right time to tell them that, though. She hasn't officially come out to them, but she isn't afraid that they won't accept her -- she just wants that moment to be special, and sweating in the middle of the campus square doesn't seem like the golden opportunity that she's been hoping for.

"Just eat your treats, knuckleheads." She concludes, taking a spoonful of the shaved ice she opted for instead of ice cream. The truck had multiple types of treats, with all kinds of different toppings and flavorings lining the walls.

"Okay…" Rosé trails off before adding, "but don't say we didn't try to help when you start wishing you had said something later." Jisoo uses her spoon to lower the one that Rosie had raised accusingly at her, reassuring the girl that she'd be fine. 

She knows it's a lie, though; as the 4 of them later toss their trash in the bins and make their way to the student council room, Jisoo sneaks a last wistful glance at you, wishing she would've had the courage to start a conversation.

3.) One Step Closer

Friday, 1:34 PM -- A Few Days Later

"Hey, Minji. How many do we have today?" You wave at what kids have already been dropped off, your presence making their little faces light up with joy. 

Your coworker responds from across the room, tossing a couple stray toys into their labeled baskets to keep the space tidy. "10 or so, I think. The last ones should be arriving soon." You nod and take off your coat, setting your things in one of the small cubbies against the wall just beyond the entrance. 

"Y/N!" A small voice shouts from behind the counter, hidden from view. You smile deeply when you realize who it is, and you quickly dart around the corner to say hello. His chubby hands cover his mouth, but they do little in hiding his adorable grin. "Seungbum! How's my little munchkin?!" He squeals and runs into your arms, giggling loudly when you pick him up and spin him around. His dark hair sways from side to side with the movement, the slight waves sticking out in random places. A few seconds later, he wraps his arms around your neck and pulls back to look at you, settling into your secure hold. 

"Can we play when Jia gets here? I promised her I'd show her the new trick I learned, but I wanna show you, too." 

You smile at the sweet sentiment. "Of course, buddy. As long as you eat well at snack time, we can play however much you want." You raise an eyebrow at him, showing your authority, before saying, "I saw you put your veggies in your pocket last time and skip to dessert, so it'd better not happen again." He lowers his head after realizing he had been caught, and a hint of redness flushes his cheeks in embarrassment. 

"Okay Y/N-yah." 

You tickle him to make sure he knows you aren't mad at him, and soon he's laughing again. "Now, go wash your hands and get settled at the table, please." 

"Yes ma'am." His tiny sneakers squeak against the floor as he races off towards one of the lowered sinks that borders the kitchen wall, and you shake your head with a smile. 

Not even a second later, you feel a soft tug at your pant leg, and you turn around to find the source. 

A head of brilliantly auburn hair is the first thing you see, and its shade compliments the child's outfit perfectly. "Hi sweetheart. Are you new?" You squat down to the young girl's level, noting how she shyly toys with her fingers as they rest in front of her. She nods, the movement so subtle that you almost don't notice it. 

"My name's Y/N, and that awesome lady over there," you lean closer to her and point towards your coworker, "...is Minji. You can stay with us today, or you can play with the others, okay?" She nods again, her mannerisms letting you know just how shy she really is. Gently taking one of her hands, you hold it and look at her with a reassuring smile, asking, "Will you tell me your name?" 

"I'm Aera." She meekly says, only maintaining eye contact for a second or two. 

"That's a beautiful name," you compliment, seeing progress as she lightly smiles at your words. "And I love your bow," you add, touching the delicate material that rests near her ear, nestled into her straight locks. It has cherry blossoms and butterflies on it, all vibrant and neatly colored. 

"Thank you, I picked it out myself." She perks up a bit now, raising her head to look at you with a proud smile. "Wow, really?" You put on an impressed expression, wanting to boost her confidence even more. "You'll have to help me choose one the next time I go shopping, then. You're great at it." The praise makes her chuckle, and her eyes squint into soft crescents in the process. 

After stealing a glance at the table where everyone else has already gathered, you realize that they're waiting on you to start. "Alright, Aera, it's time to grab a bite to eat. Do you want to sit with me, or are you ready to be with the others?" You tilt your head to the side, asking the question softly so she doesn't feel overwhelmed. Having had this job for a while, you've gotten the hang of adjusting your behavior to put them at ease. 

"With you," she says, growing a little timid again at the idea of mingling with them yet. "That's perfectly fine." You reassure her, smiling one more time before standing and leading her to the room. Her hand remains clutched in yours, wiggling around slightly from the height difference as she looks around. 

"Who's ready for some snacks?" Minji asks the group, laughing when they all raise their hands and get excited. Their high pitched voices carry around the room as they discuss what foods they want to trade with each other, and soon everyone is happily munching away. You rub Aera's back sweetly as she eats some cucumber sticks, swinging her feet through the air beneath the short chair you retrieved from the table for her. She looks up into your eyes with a smile, melting your heart with the cuteness of her full cheeks. You squish them before turning away, feeling your 6th sense kick in as you scan your eyes across the rest of the group. 

"Seungbum…" you warn, catching the way he's mischievously eyeing the carrots laid out before him on the table. He pokes at one of them and sighs, eventually giving in as he takes a hesitant bite of it. With some more convincing, he finishes the rest of the pack and gets started on his dessert. 

----

Honestly, you feel sorry for the birds outside.

They must have had hundreds of mini heart attacks upon hearing the somehow earth-shattering roar of the 10 young kids, all blasting out the side door towards the playground. Some of them automatically race towards the swings or slides, while others approach the basket of toys and sports equipment. Aera, however, hangs back, her entire hand wrapped around just a few of your fingers. "What do you wanna do?" She shrugs, looking around at the different activities that the others are already starting. 

"I can push you on the swings, or we could race. There're some monkey bars and a merry-go-round, too, that nobody's using right now." You suggest, hoping to catch her interest with one of them. Her attention snaps up to you at that last option, and she dramatically drops her jaw. "Did you say merry-go-round?" You nod with an amused grin, laughing when she lets out a cute noise of joy. After pointing her in the direction of it, she dashes off ahead of you and makes her way to it, only stopping to make sure you're still coming with her once she gets there.

"Hold on tight, little one." You advise, cheering when she giggles in anticipation. Her chuckles fill the airwaves as you spin the bar around, making sure not to pull too hard and make her too dizzy. You were once a kid, too, though, so you make it a point to add some serious speed every now and then to keep her entertained and happy. You remember playing on these all day when you were her age.

---

"Auntie!" Aera shrieks, excitedly thundering towards the fence that borders the playground. You finish cheering Seungbum on after watching his trick, grinning as he tries to flirt with Jia; she looks impressed. You turn around at Aera's commotion, feeling your eyes practically pop out of your head at who you see standing on the other side. 

"How was your day, my love?" Jisoo asks sweetly, leaning over the metal divider to run a hand through her niece's hair lovingly. She still hasn't noticed your presence, and for that you don't know if you're relieved or saddened. Watching her interact with the young girl is quite adorable, though, and you're distracted from your personal gay panic for the time being. 

"I've had so much fun. And Y/N-yah said she likes my hair clip! I told you this one was prettier than the one with just trees on it!" Aera says smugly, happy to have her decision pay off and prove her aunt wrong. Jisoo tenses up, not expecting to hear your name right now. Seeing that this is her first time picking Aera up, she had no idea you work at the daycare; though she'd be lying to say that it comes as a surprise -- you're a very warm person, so it's no wonder that you're good with kids. 

As per Aera's request, you walk across the playground and join her in front of Jisoo. Now it's your turn to be shy; you sneak a glance at the student council president and immediately feel your cheeks heat up, so you busy yourself by patting Aera on the head. She hugs your leg and settles against your side, causing Jisoo to raise her eyebrows. "I'm impressed, Y/N. She usually doesn't open up to new people very easily." 

"Ah, I'm surprised that such a cool girl like her wanted to hang out with me." You tease, tickling her side lightly when she hides behind the material of your shirt. "Do you want to come in and see what she drew today? She's definitely skilled." You suggest, trying not to sound too hopeful as you muster up the courage to look at Jisoo again. She's already smiling at you, a soft sort of adoration shining in her eyes as they rake over your features. She accepts your offer, and you walk over to the gate to let her in. Aera demands that you carry her, so you scoop her up into your arms as you make your way back into the daycare center. Her head sits on your shoulder, and you can feel her playfully making faces at Jisoo the entire way; her tiny frame jolts with each loud giggle she lets out, and the sound makes you smile. 

---

"Yeah, she was my sidekick for the day." You respond to Jisoo, continuing your conversation as you watch Aera remove her drawing from the cork board that she taped it to earlier. Displaying the kids' artwork is something that you advocated for when you first began working here, and you're so glad you did; they always get excited to share their works. 

"She's a lucky girl, then." She says, doing her best to ignore the feeling of your eyes on her. Focusing on anything other than you is already hard enough for her, but she knows there'd be no hope left if she gives in now. 

"Y/N helped me draw this. She doodled Dalgom in the corner," Aera cheerily says, breaking the slight tension in the air as she approaches the table. Most of the other kids have already been picked up, and Minji's watching the handful that haven't. 

"It's not very good," you cringe, scratching the back of your neck. You've seen him a few times since the beginning of the year, whether it be on walks across campus with Jisoo, or perched on her desk during "bring your pet to class" day. 

"It's adorable; Dalgomie will be honored when I show it to him." Jisoo says with a nod, shutting down your insecurities within a second. You fail to contain the laugh that slips past your lips, disbelief present in your voice as you ask, "You're going to show him?" She looks at you like you have 3 heads. "It would be a disgrace not to."

With a breathy chuckle, you say, "You're so strange. I like it, though." 

Jisoo smiles at that, and the three of you discuss all of the fun things you did that day. Jisoo tells you about the classes she had to sit through, and even how she stepped in gum and had to borrow a pair of Rosé's shoes. 

---

All good things must come to an end, though, and after about half an hour of talking, it was time to say goodbye. 

You lead them out the door and down the sidewalk as per Aera's request, yet again (that child is basically a mini dictator at this point, but she's cute so she gets a free pass). As she rustles around her bag in search of her keys, Jisoo accidentally knocks her earbud case out, sending it tumbling to the ground. "Oh! Here, I'll grab it for you." You kindly offer, stepping past her to retrieve it from the grass. She takes it from you with a word of gratitude uttered in that angelic voice of hers, and you begin your goodbyes upon hearing Minji call your name. 

"I'll see you around, Jisoo. And Aera, I expect to see you next week." You wiggle a finger at the little girl, donning a shocked expression when she pretends to bite it. "Can't you tell we're related?" Jisoo asks with a smile, ruffling her niece's hair. "The resemblance is uncanny," you laugh, watching as both of them join in with you. 

"Y/N, come on!" Minji whines, sounding like a toddler herself. You initially go to brush off her request in order to spend a few more seconds with the two of them, but when she stands in the doorway, entering your line of sight, you see why she's so desperate for your help -- two of the children still waiting on their parents are climbing on her, about to knock her over at any second. Her face is beet red from the effort she's exerting, and her hair is mussed wildly. 

"Oh shhh---" you start, catching yourself when Jisoo widens her eyes at you and goes to cover Aera's ears, "--shiitake mushrooms!" You finish with a nervous smile, gaining a stunned laugh from your crush. "Bye girls; gotta go. I'm on my way, Minji!" You call out like a superhero, running to her aid as fast as your legs will carry you. 

Jisoo watches you wrangle one of the squirmy kids off of her and initiate a tickle fight to distract him and give Minji time to deal with the other one. She smiles like a dork at your actions, realizing she would be content with watching you all day. You're a natural with them, and seeing you in action is something she wishes she had the chance to do more often. With that, she turns around and picks Aera up; the youngster nuzzles into her embrace, lazily slumping onto her after having such a tiring day. As Jisoo goes to take a step forward, she notices something on the ground: a piece of paper. It's been folded neatly many times, and it reminds her of the notes she would always pass to her friends back in elementary school. Her curiosity gets the better of her, and she can't resist the urge to pick it up. 

"To The Girl Who'll Never Know I Love Her"

Her eyes scan across the words and she unfolds the note, making sure to keep a steady grip on Aera with her other arm. An almost unnoticeable signature is scribbled in the bottom corner, and she nearly scares Aera by squealing in pleasant surprise. 

It's your name, curled into the letters that are so uniquely yours; the paper must've fallen out of your pocket when you bent down to get her case earlier. 

After buckling her niece into her car seat and climbing into the driver's seat, Jisoo unfolds the note again and begins reading. She's like a giddy kid all over again, and part of her feels bad for giving into temptation. She reasons with herself by promising to give it back to you the next time she sees you, and that manages to rid her conscience of some of the guilt she feels. For now, though, she's eager to see what it contains. 

The first thing to catch her eye is a poem written neatly underneath a doodle of a rabbit, likely serving as some sort of label. Everyone on campus knows of her nickname and resemblance to rabbits, and she can't help but hope that your drawing wasn't simply a coincidence. 

Poison, is what you are

A bittersweet mix, intoxicatingly beautiful 

For one glance from you

Steals every breath I had so foolishly believed was mine to take

For one smile from you

Sends me reeling, falling all over again

She nearly swoons at the words, rereading them multiple times over and imagining you saying them to her. She wonders how the syllables would fall from your lips, which ones you'd stress to alter the meaning into whatever you imagined when you wrote them. Whether or not they're written for her, she may never know; all she's aware of right now is how they make her feel, and how that feeling is one that she never wants to stop experiencing.

4.) Practice Makes Perfect

2 Weeks, 3 Exams, and 1 Mental Breakdown Later

"Coming!" You call out, using all of your strength to push your rolling chair away from your desk and across the room towards the door. 

"Y/N L/N, at your service," you say, doing a little bow in your seat. Upon looking up to see who's in front of you, your eyes lock with the same girl who's been living in your mind rent free ever since you met her. 

"Jisoo!" You announce a little louder than intended, scrambling up into a standing position before kicking the chair backwards. You wince when it collides with something behind you, filling the room with noise as a few of your knick knacks clatter to the floor. Jisoo has to fight to contain the smile on her lips, pursing them as she looks towards the ground so as to not embarrass you. 

It's too late though -- you've already made a fool of yourself, and right in front of your crush, no less. 

"What can I do for you?" You ask, finally relaxing your face from its previously scrunched up position. 

"Are you busy right now? I have a favor to ask and you might be the only person who can help me out." Her eyebrows raise inquisitively at you, quirking up in that special way they always do when she's focusing in class. 

She could ask you to do just about anything, and you'd be agreeing without hesitation; no questions asked. 

"N-no, just doing a little studying is all. How can I help?" You'd normally curse yourself for sounding so shy, but she looks especially gorgeous tonight and you can't even blame yourself for it. The fluorescent bulbs of the dorm's hallway fail to even put a dent in the glow she's radiating, and that's no small feat -- those horrible little things are usually capable of making anyone look bad, and yet, once again, Jisoo manages to break the mold. 

"Mrs. Choi assigned a rehearsal for me tonight, and I need a peer to score how well I do. I trust you to do it." She says, having no idea how much her words are affecting you. 

Review portions of the semester are crucial to every major's success, but arguably none so much as those studying to be actors. The peer and admin reviews that they receive account for a large chunk of their grade, so you can imagine how nerve-racking it would be to put that kind of power in someone else's hands. You're touched that she trusts you with it. 

"I'd love to help, Jisoo. Just curious, though: why don't you have one of the girls help? They probably know more about it than me, after all." Everyone knows how close JenChuLiChaeng are, so her decision to choose you is genuinely intriguing. 

Shit. For some reason, Jisoo hadn't anticipated that you'd ask that question. The thought had never crossed her mind earlier, when she was preoccupied with convincing herself to come in the first place, so she has to think something up on the fly. 

"They're all busy with work. Couldn't afford to lose any precious cramming time, you know?" She says, a hint of nervousness behind the small laugh she lets out. It's uncharacteristic for her, considering she's usually so confident all the time, but you think it's adorable.

"Ryujin's the same way," you tease, turning your head to look at your roommate. She's across the room on her bed, reading through her book as she holds her middle finger up to let you know she heard your comment. "What a sweetie," you coo, blowing a kiss at her that makes her roll her eyes and smile despite herself. She pretends to be hardcore, but after spending the past few months with her you've discovered that she's actually the human embodiment of a cinnamon roll. 

"Well," you say, turning back to Jisoo, "when do you have to start?" 

She pulls her sleeve back to glance at her watch before returning her gaze to you. "Gotta be back at the dorm in 10 minutes." 

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, the inner honor student in you already panicking. "10 minutes?! It's all the way across campus, Jisoo!" 

She laughs at you now, bringing a hand up to cover her mouth. "I'm kidding; we still have a couple hours. You should've seen your face, though. Priceless." 

"That's no way to treat someone who practically has your grade resting in their hands." You say smugly, a little smirk playing on your lips when her jaw drops dramatically.

"You wouldn't dare," she narrows her eyes, referencing the notion that you might give her bad marks because of that little prank. 

"Maybe, or maybe not. Perhaps I'll be merciful if you take me to get something to eat first." 

"Food as a peace offering? Alright, I can do that."

You smile, doing a dorky little cheer at that. "Okay, I'll be right out; just give me a second to make myself look presentable." 

Jisoo accepts your words with a curt nod, but she wants to tell you that you already look more than presentable. When you first opened the door earlier and she saw you in your study glasses, she couldn't help but smile like a fool; you're adorable, especially to her, and she wishes you could see that. 

A couple minutes later you exit your dorm and find her leaned up against the hallway wall, her hands fidgeting in front of her. Is she nervous?

"So, where would you like to go?" You ask, pulling the thin material of your jacket over your shoulders. It's lightweight -- seeing as how the weather doesn't call for a large one -- and it feels soft against your skin. 

As the two of you fall into step with each other, she responds, "It's up to you, princess. Since I'm at your mercy and all." Her smirk is visible in your peripheral. 

The nickname causes your heart to flutter in your chest, thudding around even harder than it had before. "U-uh, how about the noodle place?" You suggest, trying not to cringe at the stutter in your voice. You've heard that she likes chicken and ramen, and that shop is known as the best restaurant on campus for it. 

"110%. You know me so well," she says dreamily, batting her eyelashes at you with a silly smile. 

"Called it," you retort, brushing your shoulder off nonchalantly. "Now come on, I'm hungry and ready to spend all of your money." Her hand slips into yours when you reach down for it, almost instinctively, feeling like it was meant to be there all along, and you tug her down the hallway towards the elevator. 

----

"I know! If Mr. Johnson assigns another project like that then I'll politely be jumping out a window." 

Jisoo laughs at how animated you are, even having to stop chewing her mouthful of food momentarily to make sure she doesn't choke. She really loves hanging out with you; you make everything fun, and all of the stress she feels on a daily basis seems to vanish into thin air. 

"I did pretty bad on that last one," Jisoo adds, grimacing as she remembers her score. 

"You literally got a 93 out of 100, shut up." You shake your head with an amused smile, reaching across the table to snatch a piece of gimbap from her plate. 

"Hey--" she goes to yell at you, but her phone vibrates against the table, successfully stopping her. 

"Hello?" She answers, silently starting a chopstick war with you when you reach for another piece. When the person on the other end begins talking, she stops playing in order to concentrate on what they're saying. 

"Did she cancel?" She asks, furrowing her brow as her lips form into a natural pout. She sighs, rubbing her temple gently as the conversation continues. "Okay, I'm out with a friend right now, but you can go ahead and head that way. We'll meet you there. Alright, love you, too. Bye." 

You raise an eyebrow, wordlessly requesting info about what new plan you're being involved in. "That was my brother; the babysitter cancelled on them last minute, so we have to watch Aera for a few hours." Jisoo loves her niece dearly, but she can't deny that she wanted to spend the evening alone with you. She's afraid the little girl will steal all of your attention away, as childish as that may seem. 

"You're such a good person," you compliment, only to frown when she brushes off your words. "I mean it, Jisoo. You always take care of everybody around you; it's admirable. Now take the compliment or I'll team up with Aera later and tease you." 

She rolls her eyes with a smile, saying, "You're gonna do that regardless." 

"That's not the point," you pout, stomping your foot on the ground lightly. 

"Fine; tis I, Jisoo, the greatest person in all of existence. Happy now?" 

"Ecstatic." You beam at her, returning back to your cheery self. "I'll go grab some boxes for us, okay?" She nods, and you scurry off on your mission. 

----

Back At Jisoo's Dorm

Images flash across the large, flatscreen TV mounted to the wall across from you, displaying scenes of whatever cartoon the network decided to air right now. Aera isn't being picky; she's content with sitting in your lap, mindlessly fidgeting with the necklace that loosely dangles from your neck as she remains entranced by the screen. Your arms are around her to make her feel secure, and her small frame racks against you with every sweet giggle she lets out anytime a new joke is told by one of her favorite characters. 

Jisoo observes from the kitchen, leaning back against the countertop to settle in while she waits for Aera's favorite snack to heat up. She watches as you point to various things on the TV, having her name the ones she knows and teaching her others that she doesn't. 

She loves seeing you like this. You're beaming in that special way that sets her heart on fire, and the flames are only fanned when you turn to look at her. Somehow, the sight reminds her of the first time she met you:

It was orientation week -- the beginning of the school year -- and you were taking a tour around campus with some of your friends. You were lucky to have them; you'd only kept in contact with a handful of people from high school, knowing full well that most of those relationships were only rooted in superficiality, never meant to last. But this motley crew was different; they saw you for you, and all of you genuinely enjoyed each other's company. It didn't have the same air of awkward tension as the fake friendships had -- this was real and honest, and you thanked your lucky stars for them on the daily. 

All of you had managed to get into your dream schools, and the reality was bittersweet; you'd all be moving away from each other and beginning your own lives, having less and less time for each other in the process. You were beyond proud of them, and yourself, for that matter, but it still hurt to think that they wouldn't be just a few blocks away anymore. That you couldn't just swing by their house to go on a late night drive through the city like you used to. As exciting as your new experiences were bound to be, part of you was terrified; your life up until now had been fairly safe, creating a little security blanket to protect you from all that life had in store, but now you were on your own and the idea was a bit daunting. The memories you made together comforted you, though, and kept the sadness at bay. 

"Dude, this place is sick. How did you manage to make it in again?"

"Because she's smart, dumbass. We should be asking you that question."

"Ouch, (Friend's Name), that hurt."

"Do you still have those chips from earlier? I'm starving over here."

"Yeah, here, they're in my bag."

Pockets of separate conversations can be heard from behind you, all of your friends chatting away while you walk ahead of them, map and schedule in hand. The campus is fairly large, and with so many buildings and classrooms it's easy to get confused. You continue walking, running a finger along the map to trace the path you intend to take towards the Help Center. 

In your preoccupied state, you don't even realize that you're headed straight for a trash can that sits on the sidewalk, mere seconds away from colliding with it. 

A passerby notices just in the nick of time, reaching an arm out in front of you to prevent the accident with a noise of warning. You tense up, not expecting the sudden interruption, and look up into the eyes of your savior. Her dark orbs peer back at you, an innocent gleam in them when she sees your lips slowly tug into a smile. 

She mirrors your actions, neither of you saying anything yet. You couldn't utter a word even if you wanted to; her beauty leaves you speechless. 

"That was close," she says quietly, only to you. Your friends have almost caught up with you now, still busy with their own conversations, though they'll tease you once they see a gorgeous stranger's arm wrapped around you. 

"Thank you," you breathe out, clearing your throat as you take a step away from her. 

"Ooh, who's this, Y/N?" One of your friends coos, garnering a chorus of childish "oohs" and kissy noises from the others. Why are they so obnoxious?

You apologetically glance at the girl one more time before turning around to respond to them, but she speaks up before you can. 

"Kim Jisoo." She introduces, facing them with a wide smile. It's easy to see that she's done this before; her tone is pleasant and light, not even a hint of hesitancy in it. She's used to being the center of attention; you can tell by the way she carries herself and commands the space. 

"I see you guys are taking a tour, right?" She looks between all of you, though her eyes linger on you for a second too long to be brushed off as 'just friendly'. 

You nod, saying, "I can't find my last class. It's a Gen Ed one; World History, room 435. The map says it's in Complex D, but the room was vacant when we went by."

She listens intently, paying attention to your every word. "They must've handed out the old maps by accident, then. Mr. Johnson had to move rooms to accommodate larger class sizes. When do you have him?" 

You unfold your schedule again, gazing down at the slightly crumpled sheet until your eyes find their target. "Tuesdays and Thursdays, 1PM." 

Upon registering what you said, Jisoo does her best to contain the grin that threatens to spread across her face. "Ah, same as me! I can take you to the room, if you'd like. That way you can find it next week." She offers, pleased by the fact that she'll be seeing you more often. Your cute mannerisms have already thrown her for a loop, and she wants to get to know you better. 

"That would be great." You let out a relieved laugh, releasing the worry you felt; tours are meant to end within 20 minutes or so, and before Jisoo came you were afraid you'd never find your last class. She's saving the day again, it seems. 

"Great, follow me," she smiles warmly, placing a gentle hand on the small of your back to turn you in the right direction. When you give your friends one last glance over your shoulder, you find them giving you thumbs up with smirks on their faces. One of them puckers their lips at you, and you stick your tongue out in return. 

You're not sure what they'll end up doing while you finish your tour, though it'll likely involve either skating or eating fast food. They have each other to keep themselves entertained, so you're not worried about them in the slightest. You make a mental note to text them when you're done to meet up again. 

Jisoo smiles like an idiot when she realizes what's happening behind her, failing miserably to hide it when you spin back around and give your full attention to her. 

"What?" You ask, leaning in closer to her to nudge her shoulder when she looks away, blushing. 

"Nothing," she shakes her head, only to be prompted by you again. "You're just cute, is all." 

You have to use all your power to hold back the squeal you want to let out at hearing that. Kim Jisoo, as you now know her to be, thinks you're cute? You must be dreaming. 

"That's funny, I don't remember turning into a mirror."

"Yah, babo!" She chuckles, not expecting that as she smacks the back of your head with no real force. The two of you share a laugh and continue talking while you make your way to the room.

Beeping sounds from the microwave bring Jisoo back down to Earth, causing the pleasant memory to fade more and more with every incessant signal that cuts through the air. She grabs a couple heat guards and approaches the machine, carefully opening the steaming package and pouring its contents into a big, shareable bowl. Though it may be Aera's favorite food, she'd be damned to not make enough for the two of you as well. After all, keeping her entertained will take plenty of energy. 

"Did this princess order one heaping bowl of popcorn or am I at the wrong castle?" Jisoo plays, padding into the room with a bright smile on her face as she looks over at her niece. The smell of her snack snaps Aera back to reality, making her eyes light up with pure joy as she leaps off of your lap and runs to Jisoo. She wraps her arms around her legs, thanking her in that sweet little voice of hers as she gazes up at her aunt with stars in her eyes. 

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She chants, wiggling her body around in excitement. She lets go when Jisoo goes to walk to the couch, following close behind her like an eager puppy. 

She approaches you again, making grabby hands for you to lift her onto your lap even though she's more than capable of getting up there by herself. Nevertheless, you pull her up with a humored grin, watching as she puts her hands in her lap and patiently waits for the two of you to get a bite first. Her ability to follow manners is commendable, though the slight twitch of her lip when she gets a whiff of the food is pretty adorable. 

"Dig in," you say around your mouthful of food, locking eyes with Jisoo when Aera jumps at the opportunity to follow your instructions. You never have to tell her twice when it comes to food. 

"Yep, definitely related." 

Jisoo laughs at your comment, reaching over top of Aera to flick you in the forehead. She shrugs at your pained exclamation, uttering a nonchalant "Sorry, not sorry," as the two of you crack up together.

----

"Y/N, how the hell did you manage to do that?" Jisoo whispers, not bothering to censor herself when she sees Aera fast asleep in your arms. It's not like she could hear her anyway. 

"She was already kinda tired when she got here; I just made sure to get that last little bit of energy out with the games. Have you forgotten that I know a thing or two about kids?" You tease, turning to her with a smile when you finish walking up the short staircase. 

"You don't understand: usually it takes us hours to settle her down. She's just a totally different person around you." 

"Must be my awesomeness." 

"Hmm, must be," Jisoo hums, quietly opening her bedroom door for you and watching as you carefully lay Aera down. You tuck her under the blankets with care, making sure to brush the hair out of her face and adjust her pillow a bit. Jisoo leans against the doorframe, adding the scene before her to her list of reasons for loving you. Seeing you in such a domestic situation gives her baby fever, and she has to push the persistent feeling away. 

"Ready?" You whisper with one last look over your shoulder, giving Jisoo your undivided attention once you confirm that Aera's alright. 

"Let's do it," she says, pulling the door to but not latching it. The two of you will be in the living room, just down the hall, and you want to be able to hear her in case she needs something. So responsible.

You take in the dorm as Jisoo leads you towards your destination, amazed at how much bigger it is than yours and Ryujin's. This one has separate rooms equipped with their own personal bathrooms, a decent kitchen, and, of course, a living area. Clearly, having ties to the school and being president of the student council come with some major perks. Your socked feet pad against the hardwood floor, and you close what little distance is left between Jisoo and yourself to press your body against her back, wrapping your arms around her. She lets out a little noise of surprise, but doesn't protest; she tucks one of her hands into your clasped ones and uses the other to rub your forearm. 

A few moments later you plop down onto the couch and get comfortable on the cushions. Jisoo digs around in her bag that leans against the tv stand, searching for the script of her upcoming production. Her shirt rides up slightly, giving you a perfect view of her beautifully sculpted stomach, and her skin looks ethereal as it glows in the soft lamplight of the room. Embarrassed for admiring her in such a way, you avert your gaze, failing to notice how she subtly bites her lip as she approaches you; she planned that little show, and it worked. 

"Okay, so here's the scoring sheet," she hands you a semi-formal looking paper, along with a pencil and clipboard to use as a stabilizer. "I'll be reading from the first few pages on my own, but I was wondering if you'd fill in for the male lead for some of the other parts? It's a lot easier to get into character if I have someone's energy to feed off of." 

You smile at how cute she sounded with her little rambled request, and nod. "Of course, Jisoo. I doubt I'll be any good, though." She releases a sigh at that, happy to have you agree; her plan is coming along nicely, but there's always room for things to go wrong. 

"I'm sure you're better than you think." 

"Stop sucking up, Chu. Flattery won't make me raise your grade," you warn, pointing the pencil at her sternly. Your tone sends a shiver down her spine, though it goes unnoticed by you. 

"Let's just get started." She concludes, doing her best to keep from getting too flustered under your already watchful eye. 

----

Her show is well underway, caught somewhere towards the end of act two, and you're enthralled by the performance she's giving. The paper that once rested in your lap is marked up with comments of praise and proud annotations to accompany your high scoring, though now it lays forgotten about on the coffee table, serving no purpose any longer. You finished all of the required sections necessary for your peer review, and now you're just enjoying the journey that Jisoo is continuing to take you on. 

You look back up into her eyes after reading off the lines of the character you're filling in for, looking completely unskilled next to the pure talent that she's exuding. She stands from the couch, looking down at you with an exasperated expression as she remains in character. 

"You don't get it!" She raises her voice slightly, though not loud enough to wake Aera. Even while in the intense mindset she has to be in for her character, she keeps one foot in the reality of this world, making sure to behave appropriately. 

"Enlighten me, then." You stand and retort, shifting a bit closer to her after reciting your line. 

"Only when I'm with you do I feel true happiness. Your kind eyes bring me comfort like no other; I'm safe in your arms. For you, my love," she pauses, her eyes brimming with tears from the emotional words she's spent so much time rehearsing. "...there isn't a thing in this world that I wouldn't do." Your breath is held tightly in your throat, and your hands subconsciously grip onto the material of your jeans. 

Only now do you realize how close the two of you have migrated to one another; she's merely a breath away, so close you can feel the warmth radiating from her. You swallow thickly, feeling your nerves come alive with every second that passes in heated silence, neither of you knowing what to do now. You've lost the desire to read your next line, and she doesn't seem too upset by that fact. Her eyes slowly scan over your features, and the lovesick look in them makes you question if she's still in character or slipping out of it. 

After her gaze darts down to your lips and she licks her own without even realizing it, you seriously begin hoping for the latter of the two options.

She searches your face for any sign of refusal as she leans in closer, now bringing her arms up to wrap around your waist and lightly ball the material of your shirt up into her fists. Your hands rest on her shoulders, and you glide your fingertips over her jawline. A singular nod is the last form of consent that you give her before she pulls you closer. 

Her lips ghost over yours, receiving some of the vanilla balm you applied earlier; her breath hitches when you tug at the collar of her university sweater, teasingly taking her bottom lip between your teeth. She wants to savor this moment, so she fights against her urge to dive right in and get lost in you. 

Within seconds, she's kicking herself for that decision. 

"Auntie? Y/N?" Aera calls sleepily from just around the corner, making the two of you spring away from each other. When she appears less than a second later, you realize how close you had been to getting caught. Jisoo refuses to meet your gaze when you look towards her, and that simple action disheartens you a bit.

"Hey, sweetheart. Bad dream?" You ask, using your inference skills after noticing the way that she's clutching her stuffed bunny close to her chest. Her lip trembles as she nods, and the sight breaks your heart. Quickly, you pick her up again, assuring her that she's safe and that you'd slay any monster that dared to hurt her, even in her dreams. A small smile tugs at her lips, and she brings a fist up to rub her eye. "How about this: I'll do a quadruple check of the room for you, and stay with you until you fall asleep. Sound good?" 

She utters a tired, "Yes, Y/N-yah", before laying her head on your shoulder and waving a goodbye towards Jisoo as you take her back to the room. 

Four sweeps of the room and one fight with a ghost later, you tuck her in again and lay a sweet kiss to her forehead. "Love you," she mumbles lazily, making your heart melt. Kids say that phrase quickly, without even realizing the weight that it has, but you're always glad to accept whatever they imagine it to be. Whether she loves you for playing with her, tucking her in, or defending her honor against imaginary monsters, you don't really care all that much -- she loves you in the ways that she knows how, and that's all that matters.

"I love you, too, Aera. Sleep well." You tuck a piece of hair behind her ear and settle against the wall, prepared to come through on your promise. 

----

"Hey," you start, albeit a bit awkwardly. 

"Hey," Jisoo returns, pushing her leftovers from the restaurant around her plate half-heartedly. You approach the marble countertop that she sits behind, silently begging for her to look up at you. 

"Should we talk about earlier?" You quietly ask, picking at imaginary imperfections on the surface of the countertop. 

"What about it?" 

"We practically kissed--"

"It was in the script to do so, Y/N." She says, finally looking up at you. She sounds a bit hostile now, like she's getting defensive for some unknown reason. 

"Oh," the simple utterance is all you can manage, seeing as how your brain is running a mile a minute. You want to ask if it meant anything else to her -- if she would've taken it farther, had Aera not walked in -- but you don't.  Her tone serves as enough of an answer, and you're not sure you could stand to hear her verbalize your fears anyway. 

"Well I guess I should go, then." You retract your hand and put it in your pocket, realizing how stupid you were for thinking she could like you back. She doesn't; she was just in need of a helping hand tonight, and you offered that. You shouldn't have tried to turn it into anything that it wasn't. 

Hearing the disappointment in your voice makes her want to confess right then and there, but something still holds her back -- some force is yelling at her to keep her feelings hidden for fear of rejection. "I can drive you." 

You shake your head. "Nah, it's okay. I'll have Ryujin come get me. You can't leave Aera here and I wouldn't want to have to wake her up just for you to drive me across campus." Jisoo agrees, realizing that she didn't even think about that at first. 

"Goodnight, Jisoo." You say, heading off towards the front door. She returns the gesture, reminding you to be safe as she locks it behind you and watches you dial up your roommate's number. Before long, she pulls into one of the parking spaces in front of the dorm, and the two of you drive away. 

Click Here For Part 2

[whentommymetalfie]

Home to you -chapter 5

-Closer-

Prologue//1//2//3/4

Pairing: Tommy/Alfie

Summary: Tommy and Alfie both want to take things further. But it turns out, things might be more complicated than simply wanting. 

Warnings: mental instability, hallucinations, self harm, self-hatred, ptsd, panic attacks, disordered eating

Content note: sexual content

Wordcount: 3,7

Tommy wakes up with led in his veins, head too heavy to lift from the pillow and confused about his whereabouts. The warmth of a hand on top of his head tells him he’s not alone, at least. It prompts him to squeeze his eyes open just a fraction to observe the world through his lashes.  Alfie’s sat next to him, paper in his lap and with his glasses balancing low on his nose as he thumbs the pages with one hand, combing gently through Tommy’s hair with the other. Tommy stays completely still. Wants to stay in this moment, sink back into sleep and hide from the memories of the past night before they fully catch up with him. His right palm throbs dully and he clutches it against his chest, willing away the feeling of glass digging into fragile skin. He squeezes his eyes shut. Wants to stay in the warm safety of here and now, with Alfie, in bed, with Alfie’s fingers in his hair. Far away from the coppery smell of blood and the voices echoing between the tiles.

“It’s so easy, Tom, so easy, and then you’ll get to rest.”

“It’ll never be anything more than this. What do you have to offer him? Look at you.”

and he looks and looks until he can’t bear it anymore until it’s all too much and-

“Tommy?” Alfie scratches lightly at the nape of his neck. “You awake?”

He nods, because he needs Alfie to talk, bring him out of the darkness. Like last night.

Alfie keeps stroking his hair.

“You gonna open those pretty eyes and greet the day and your companion any time soon, eh? Nearly lunchtime innit.”

He can hear in his voice that he’s smiling. And he wants to see that, so he opens one eye to peer up at Alfie. Who is indeed smiling down at him. Tommy curls up impossibly closer, as if he could fully melt into him, face pressed into his soft side. Alfie flinches when his nose digs into a ticklish spot and lets out an indignant snort, but then continues petting him with a fond chuckle.

“Just a little kitten, aren’t you, petal? Yeah. Bet you’ll start purring one of these days.”

Tommy ignores the comment and drags in Alfie’s familiar scent into his nose.  

“How’re your hands feeling?” Alfie asks. “You in much pain”

“It’s not too bad,” he mutters into his shirt.

With an unconvinced hum, Alfie takes his hand gently and presses his lips against the back, just softly, continuing over his knuckles, up his fingers and down the inside of them, featherlight over his bandaged palm, until he can kiss the inside of his wrist. Which sends a thrill of pleasure up Tommy’s spine.

Then, Alfie leans down and kisses him. It brings out different memories altogether from last night. Alfie kissed him then too. Lifted him up onto a counter and kissed him until his head was swimming. He sinks into that feeling now, happily following where Alfie leads.

The steps approaching outside makes Tommy pull away, but Esther just passes. He looks towards the door, unable to relax. Esther has certainly seen him in more compromising positions. But still---

Taking his chin lightly in hand, Alfie turns him away from the door and smiles again before pressing another kiss against his lips.

When the steps approach a second time, this time accompanied by low humming, Alfie relents.

“How about we pick this up later tonight,” he whispers into the hot air between them. “When we know we won’t be disturbed. And I can take care of you good and proper.”

The words light a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach, his chest, and fluttering and fragile as it may be, it’s definitely real. So much so that Tommy finds his lips twitching into a smile as he whispers, “Is that a promise?”

Alfie chuckles, low and dark and the way his eyes light up makes Tommy wish he could find more enticing things to say, anything to keep that expression on his face always.

“Indeed it is, love.”

…

The day passes impossibly slowly. Alfie helps him stick to the usual routine, the firm schedule of eating, walking, resting, doing a crossword or two, followed by the usual afternoon nap. The one Tommy swears he doesn’t need but still always ends up taking sometime in the afternoon, cuddled up against Alfie’s chest in front of the fire as he reads, when the ever present weariness overcomes him.

It’s easy enough to fall into the familiar pattern, even if he can’t stop counting the hours until sundown, for once feeling something other than dread at the thought of going to bed. Everything makes him think of it: Alfie’s hands lingering after he’s helped him with his coat. The soft brushing of lips against his forehead as he dozes off in the afternoon. The firm warmth of an arm around his waist during the walk. Little things that remind him. He clings to those, to keep his head quiet. Tell the voices that no, Alfie doesn’t find him repulsive, Alfie likes touching him, Alfie doesn’t look at him and see something ugly and broken. It helps a little. Even if they’re not silent for long.

…

Despite what happened last night, Alfie lets Tommy take a bath on his own, that evening. Not without fussing first, and not with the door locked. And as Tommy reclines against the cool porcelain, all the anticipation that’s been building throughout the day seems to vibrate through him. Despite the heat of the water he trembles, and he tries to force himself to relax without much success. He glances towards the mirror. Where it used to hang, at least, the empty space above the sink. The bones inside of him seem to poke through his skin, bruising his insides and he can’t find a comfortable position. He wishes he could lay down completely, sink underneath the surface until the water makes him weightless and takes the pressure from his bones, but the mere thought of being under the surface makes his throat constrict in panic. Instead he sits up. Draws his legs towards his chest and stares at his bruised knees. Scratches hard over the place where the bone sits too close to the skin.

Alfie asked, last night, if he’d been trying to hurt himself. More than you already had, that’s what he said. Tommy doesn’t know. If Alfie hadn’t showed up when he did, to shield him from the ghosts and pry away the sharp piece of glass from his hand… he doesn’t know what would’ve happened.

The thought scares him enough to stop scratching at his knee and put his legs back down, hiding the thin trail of blood left by his nail.

Eventually he climbs out of the cooling bathwater. It’s a small mercy, not seeing his reflection. But it’s not enough. And they still remind him, even when he can’t see himself, they tell him, won’t let him forget-

He dries himself off and puts on the large flannel shirt, burying himself in the safe scent and the soft warm fabric. Pulls his underwear on and makes sure the long sleeves on the shirt cover his hands, cover as much of him as possible.

When he emerges from the bathroom on legs that still feel unsteady, Alfie is sat on the bed, glasses in place and with a book on his lap. The scene exudes safety and familiarity. He looks up when the door swings shut. Something dark and hungry seeps into his gaze, and it makes Tommy stop in his tracks, a shiver running down his spine under the intensity. He must be looking like a deer in headlights. Feels like one, at least, frozen and helpless.  

“Come here, love,” Alfie says, beckoning him over with an outstretched hand. The hand is unnecessary because the command in his voice is enough to physically pull Tommy towards him. The book lies forgotten on the bed and when he’s close enough, Alfie grabs him by the waist and pulls him down onto his lap and into a kiss. It’s surprisingly gentle at first, but Tommy eagerly parts his lips and soon it becomes deeper, hungrier. Alfie kisses him like no one’s ever kissed him before. So self-assured and firm, taking the lead and making him follow. And he gives into it completely, desperate for more.

In a swift movement, Alfie spins them around, leaving Tommy laid out under him on the mattress, legs around his waist. A surge of heat rushes into the pit of his stomach, making his hips buck up against Alfie’s solid frame. Already gasping and aching for it.

“If you want me to stop or slow down, you just let me know, alright, pet?” Alfie says, pulling away just enough to look him in the eye. “Yeah? Just say the word. Or give me a poke in the shoulder if that’s too difficult. But other than that all you need to do is relax. I’ll take care of you.”

Tommy nods and sinks into the feeling of relief. Alfie’s got this. Alfie knows what he’s doing, even if Tommy himself suddenly feels like a blushing virgin all over again. Alfie flashes him a grin and plants a quick kiss on his nose. “Alright then.”

And take care of him, he does. Begins by kissing him on every inch of bare skin he can reach, the sharp edge of his cheekbone, his temple, trailing his lips down his jaw, stopping right at where his pulse throbs to scratch his teeth gently against the skin. It sends a pleasant shiver down his spine and Alfie must be able to tell because he lingers on the spot, sucking a mark onto the skin before moving further, down to where his collarbones peak above the shirt. His hands meanwhile are stroking down his sides, his hips and thighs, leaving burning trails behind. Lighting a dizzying arousal that collects in the pit of his stomach, burning hot and all consuming.

Tommy’s own hands are buried in the back of Alfie’s shirt. Eventually he works up the courage to tug it up towards his shoulders. Alfie sits back between his legs. Pulls the shirt off and smiles down at Tommy when he reaches out to touch, running his hands down his hairy chest, solid muscle and the swell of his stomach. If he could, he would’ve told him, how beautiful he is, how much he wants him, how much he wants this. Instead he pulls him closer, tries to show him. Needs to have that powerful body fully pressed against him, needs all of him at once-

Alfie is so warm and heavy on top of him when he kisses him again, cock hard and straining against his boxers, pressing against Tommy’s hip. Tommy wraps his arms tight, tight around his chest and just clings to him while Alfie’s tongue laps against the roof of his mouth, entwining with his own, setting the pace. He drinks in the kisses eagerly, desperately wanting more, more- His hips buck, searching for friction any way they can.

When Alfie’s hand finally trails up the inside of his shirt, tension ripples through his muscles like icy water. The hand stops and Alfie raises both eyebrows in a silent question. One Tommy knew would come but still doesn’t know how to respond to.

Alfie’s seen him in less clothes before. But so many of those times he was too far gone to even reflect on it. Now he’s painfully aware of his own body again. And Alfie is right, he doesn’t believe him when he says he’s beautiful. Only thinks of that scrawny figure in the reflection. He hides his face against Alfie’s chest. Alfie strokes his side gently. Each time a finger dips into the hollow spots between the ribs he feels his stomach turns into knots.

How can he let Alfie see, when he knows what he’s become?

“How could anyone want you? Look at you-“

Look at you

Alfie wouldn’t

Look at you

“There must be something you can do?” Lizzie’s voice is sharp and demanding as she speaks to the shadows looming over his bed. “Look at him, he’s wasting away.”

Wasting away locked away forgotten in this room

“The only option is to feed him more often, but-“

They keep talking over him and he wonders if he’s really here at all

“-considering his aversion to it that might have a negative effect on his wellbeing overall, I’m afraid.”

In this room

Where the door is always closed

And no one touches him except the men in the white shirts with their tubes and their cold hands and all the dark figures who try to keep him still and he’s wasting away nothing but a black hole

Cold mud

Pushing the air from his chest filling all the empty crevices-

No one can stand touching him.

“Shh, treacle, ‘s okay.” Alfie’s voice emerges from the chorus of others, whispered against his ear. “You’re beautiful. Let me show you. Let me take care of you”

He desperately tries to ignore the snide remarks that follow Alfie’s softly spoken words, things that echo in his own head, that’s all, not real. This is real, Alfie’s voice, Alfie’s body against his-

Alfie kisses him but he can’t feel it, the scratch of his beard or the soft press of lips against his.

He tears himself away, presses his face into his chest again as he struggles to breathe. Coughs to get the mud out, has to get it out, out pushes harder into the firm surface to find an anchor, it’s cold against his forehead, cold wet dirt and the smell of earth and

blood splitting pain and wetness trickling slowly down his face

splutters and coughs and chokes as bits of mud hack up his throat.

“God, there’s nothing there Tommy! Will you just fucking listen to me?” Lizzie’s fingers can reach all the way around his wrists. “Frances, get in here!”

“Fuck-“ the weight on top of him shifts but he still can’t breathe- “Tommy?”

he struggles uselessly against the hands.  

Until they disappear and footsteps echo across the floor, doors slamming, new hands,  shushing, dark figures and faces he doesn’t recognize.

The room floods with warm light and Alfie’s face swims into view. He cradles his face, holds it still, but he can’t feel it, can’t feel the heat against his skin-  

“It’s alright, sweetheart, breathe with me, in and out- I’ve got you.”  

He’s moved, pulled closer, ear pressed against Alfie’s chest, he listens to his breaths, the steady beating of his heart. In and out. In and out, the familiar mantra.

“I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

Alfie’s got him, he’s safe. Alfie’s got him, and he’s safe, Alfie- he clings to the words with every stuttering in and exhale, until feeling slowly seeps back into his limbs again, he can feel the warmth of Alfie’s skin, the firm hold of his arms encircling his waist and cradling his head against his chest. He winces when he comes back to himself enough to remember why they’re in bed together.

“I’m s-sorry,” he chokes out. His teeth clatter together so hard that getting any words out at all is a struggle. “I don’t know why- why this is happening,”

“Shh, fuckin’ nonsense that is. Apologizing. Nothing but a bad habit. If you’re not ready, we’ll take it slower. Simple as that, eh?  

He grasps desperately at Alfie, shaking fingers against firm muscle.

“No, no, I want to- I-“  

“Shh, love, just you focus on breathing and leave the talking to me. Sometimes your head knows it’s wants something but the rest can’t quite keep up,” Alfie says and rocks him slowly in his arms. “The opposite ‘s true too, I reckon. But I’m nothing if not persistent, so I promise we’ll figure it out. Don’t you worry your pretty little head ‘bout it.”  

He presses his nose into the crook of Alfie’s neck and sinks into his embrace.

Alfie begins rubbing his back slowly. The hand moves up along his waist, outside of the shirt this time. He stays in one place. Rubbing warm circles into the skin. Tommy forgets to breathe.

“Relax, pet. ‘s nothing dangerous, this. I’m keeping it right here, see? Does that feel okay?”

The thin barrier the shirt provides helps somewhat. He nods. And as he gets used to the sensation the worst of the terror it caused before fades, at least enough for him to relax.

“There you go. Doing wonderfully, aren’t you?” Alfie moves his hand further down to his waist, caresses all the way to his hipbone and up again. Over and over. “Yeah, you’re doing so good, sweetheart. Just relax. It’s all fine.”

And as the adrenaline seeps out of his veins, his eyelids become heavy. Alfie keeps stroking him, lingering in each spot for a long time. And before he can even feel himself slipping, he’s asleep.

…

For once it’s not a nightmare that wakes him, but Alfie tossing and turning in bed next to him. By now Tommy’s instincts have him reaching for Alfie already in his sleep, so once he drags himself out of it he’s already firmly pressed against him, face buried in the crook of his neck and one arm wrapped around his bare chest. He drags his scent into his nose. Reassures himself that he’s safe. Not alone. Never alone again. And he’s already sinking back into sleep when Alfie lets out a grunt into his hair and presses closer. He’s hard, the outline of his cock pressing into Tommy’s thigh, thick and straining against his boxers. The feeling sends a sharp spike of arousal to the pit of his stomach. He lies frozen, barely daring to breathe. Alfie’s arm is tight around his waist, keeping him firmly pressed against him. His hips roll forward, making Tommy’s heart jump. Heat floods through him, pooling in his groin, and he presses his thigh harder against Alfie, can’t resist. Fuck, he’s so big. It’s a thing he never knew he’d find so arousing: the feeling of a big, hard cock pressing into him. Now, the reaction is so strong it almost frightens him.

Alfie’s arm tightens around his waist and another moan escapes him, hot and raspy against Tommy’s ear. His own cock quickly becomes achingly hard and he swallows down the urge to shove a hand down his shorts and touch himself. Or turn around. Rub himself against Alfie until- oh fuck-

Alfie suddenly jolts awake, unsuccessfully attempting to untangle himself from both the blankets and his own grip around Tommy all at once. He looks blearily around the room before setting his eyes on him, half closed and with a confused crease between his eyebrows.

“Fuck, sorry ‘bout that, love” he slurs. Gestures awkwardly downwards as he relaxes back against the pillows. “Don’t pay any attention to it-“

He clears his throat and once again shifts to pull away. Tommy kisses him. Surges forward and crashes his lips against Alfie’s, clumsy with need, tongues and teeth clashing as Alfie kisses him back with equal fervor. He tugs at the thick arm around his waist and Alfie rolls them over, settling his entire weight on top of him. Tommy spreads his legs, grinds up against him and whimpering at the feeling.

Alfie stills for only a second, but he squeezes his thighs tighter around his hips.

“Don’t stop,” he whispers against his lips and with a growl, Alfie thrusts forward, rubbing his stiff cock against Tommy’s. He moans, open mouthed and desperate against Alfie’s lips.

Then they’re moving frantically together, Alfie’s hands digging into his arse to push him closer, grinding down against him, hard and unforgiving. Pinning him against the mattress with his entire weight. Tommy rolls his hips, heels digging into the backs of Alfie’s thighs, desperately chasing friction and fuck, fuck, he’s so close already- it’s all too much, and not enough, Alfie’s cock, hard and thick under the thin fabric of his boxers, the soft ,heavy press of his stomach, he writhes against the heat and the firm pressure of muscle and flesh, close- so fucking close now-

“Oh, oh Alfie-“ he keens and the release washes over him in sharp waves of pleasure, quick and relentless and absolutely brutal, he’s crying out, voice cracking into sobs and Alfie doesn’t stop moving, chasing his own pleasure against his over sensitized cock.

“Fuck, Tommy-“ he groans into an open mouthed kiss. “Fuck, that’s so good, love. Fucking hell-“  his hips push harder and faster until they stutter. He pushes his face into the crock of Tommy’s neck, hands painfully tight around his arse as he comes, shuddering through his release. Then he collapses on top of him, breath hot against his neck.      

A warm stillness settles in the room, where only their breaths are heard. Tommy’s head is full of cotton, muffling all the noise, softening it. Eventually Alfie raises himself up on his elbows and lets out a chuckle.

“Fucking hell, love. Not exactly how I’d pictured it, bedding you for the first time. Thought’ I’d be more of a gentleman about it.” He brushes away a sweaty lock of hair from Tommy’s brow and smiles. “But I’ve always believed in doing what comes naturally. I promise to take better care of you in the future. Do it properly.”

Tommy knows he’s blushing and the cotton makes it impossible to come up with any words. Alfie rolls over onto his side to tuck him against his chest. He’s shivering for some reason.

“But perhaps some drowsy, half-asleep rutting was just what we needed, eh? Just to blow off some steam. And can I just say that you make for quite a sight when you- Fuck, sweetheart, you’re shaking.”

Alfie rubs his back and pulls the blankets up higher around him, tucking them around his face and wherever he can reach.

“You alright, love?”

Tommy hums, even if his teeth clatter together and every breath hacks its way up his throat. Because Alfie is here and Alfie holds him and keeps him safe.

And he’s alright. At least in that moment.

[petri808]

Nalu Yakuza Au *cover art by @jmoart214 💜

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 |

This chapter came out a little longer than usual. lemony teasing

Natsu’s secretary called her boss from the front office. “Mr. Dragneel, Mr. Avatar is here.”

“Thank you, Ms. Kinana. Send him in.”

Because no one in the organization was a computer whiz, he contracted with an independent IT person who was recommended by Yura. The guy, Jerome Avatar wasn’t skittish, didn’t care who he worked for as long as it paid well, and generally had a pleasant demeanor. As the accountant, Yura was in contact with Jerome the most, but for any major issues or changes, those had to be cleared with Natsu first. It was mostly quick, in and out of the office dealings.

Jerome shook Natsu’s hand over the desk before taking a seat.

“So,” Natsu questioned, “what brings you here today? Is there something I need to approve?”

“No, nothing new. I asked for this meeting because I came across some intelligence you might be interested in.”

“Oh?”

“I learned that your rival Heartfilia had been in contact with a new cyber security client, Mikage Kaishā who’s into a lot of shady dealings with government contacts.”

Natsu shrugged his shoulders. “Sounds like just a typical client for her, probably has her launder money for them. I don’t really pay attention to her clients because we deal with different things. But I do appreciate you telling me.”

“Should I keep an eye on them?”

“That’s fine if you believe it’s worth it. And if you learn about anything that could hurt us let me know immediately. By the way, how did you find out this information?”

“A friend in the field told me about it, then I hacked into Heartfilia’s computers to authenticate the information.”

Natsu sat forward in his chair. “You hacked into her computer? I’m surprised her employee didn’t catch that, cause I know she’s good at this stuff too.”

The man grinned. “Well, not as good as me.” He pointed to Natsu’s laptop. “If you’d like, I can set it up so you can access her system from your computer too.”

“Oh, I don’t want to tamper with her company—”

Jerome waved a hand nonchalantly to stop him. “I wouldn’t advise it either, if you touch things, that’s what’ll get attention, but you can watch what’s going on. Keep an eye on her calendar, meeting dates, whatever you want.”

Natsu sat back, rubbing his chin. The offer was a very tempting one indeed. A chance to stalk his ex through cyberspace… someone must have mentioned to this Jerome guy their history. It wasn’t exactly hidden, but not something talked about either amongst lower ranking employees. This wasn’t the first time Jerome had brought them intelligence info, so maybe he was looking to increase his usefulness, climb the ladder so to speak? Being connected to a powerful Yakuza house was certainly handy, and what better way than to tap into such a personal subject.

“That could be interesting,” Natsu finally responded. “Alright, what do you have to do to set it up? And make sure it’s nothing I could screw up accidentally cause I really don’t want her to find out.”

Jerome looked at his watch as if calculating his options. “I could do it now. Might take me about an hour if you can go without the laptop for that amount of time.”

“You have to take it back to your office or something?”

“No,” the man shook his head. “I can do it right here, so I can explain along the way.”

“Perfect.” Natsu then called his secretary and requested she double his lunch order due to an extended meeting.

While the computer tech fiddled, Natsu just sat back with his meal, watching him work. Math wasn’t his strong suit— nor academics for that matter. Growing up, his father had always told him he would be next in line as boss, so he only learned what he needed to for that world. One needed strength, cunning, street smarts, not book smarts. Though he had to admit the things these hackers could do was scary when you thought about it. Lucy was lucky in that her best friend was just a wiz at language— including computer languages. It all looked like gibberish, but the woman interpreted it almost like a savant. According to Jerome, from what he’d seen so far, Levy was not yet at his skill level, but that could easily change with time and experience like he’d been through.

“Natsu you—” Gray paused his knock on the doorframe. “Sorry, I thought the meeting would be done by now.”

“It’s fine, Jerome is hacking Lucy’s system for me right now.” Natsu responded with a grin. “Now I’ll see what she’s up to in real time.”

Gray groaned and ran a hand down his face in disgust. “I’m not even gonna respond to that. But I will tell you I told you so when it blows up in your face later.”

“Tch. She won’t know, right Jerome?”

“She shouldn’t unless you touch something.” The man answered while continuing to type.

“See. It’ll be fine.”

“You’re an idiot. Anyway,” Gray waved a hand nonchalantly as he left, “call me when your free to go over the new orders.”

“It will be fine, right?” Natsu asked Jerome a second time with a bit of anxiety in his tone.

Jerome stopped typing. “As long as you just observe they shouldn’t see you, just don’t get excited and touch something.”

“I don’t plan to; not like I’ll know how to do that anyways.”

“I’m almost finished, but do you want me to turn on her web camera so you can see through it?”

“But she won’t see me?”

“No, for you it’ll just be like watching a one-way video feed with image and audio.”

After a momentary pause, Natsu’s eyes narrowed with a mischievous grin. “Do it.”

Being able to see Lucy every day and feed his addiction was just too tempting, ‘I’m turning into a junky.’ But Gray’s words entered his mind. What if the man was right, could this bite him in the ass later? Probably… Though how bad could it really be? He really had no plans to interfere with Lucy’s business, just her personal life— and yes, he knew it sounded horrible. What right did he have to stalk his ex? None. ‘I just worry about her, is that so wrong?’ Lucy’s tough, but she’s just a woman and their world didn’t always treat women fairly. His desire to protect her bordered neuroticism, but could anyone blame him considering the underworld they worked in. ‘I’m just doing it to protect her,’ Natsu justified it to himself. Guys like Gray who haven’t fallen in love yet, ‘they just don’t understand.’ If anything were to happen to Lucy, he didn’t know what he would do. Probably move Heaven and earth and kill any in his way for what they’d done.

It took just over an hour before Jerome finished installing the spyware and making sure the systems were still secured. Just a one-way mirror that Levy shouldn’t catch unless really digging for it. Another 20 minutes were spent explaining to Natsu how to do the accessing part, including pulling up the webcam whenever he wanted to. “Or just leave it running,” Jerome noted. “It’ll just show up in this window,” he pointed towards the screen, “and as long as you don’t log out completely from your computer it’ll stay open.”

“Who turns off their computers?”

“Actually, it’s a good idea to turn them off now and then so any software updates can be completed, but since I manage your systems, there’s not really a need to.”

“Great.” The two men stood up and shook hands. “Thanks, Jerome.”

“It was my pleasure.”

When Natsu arrived each day at headquarters, the first thing and last thing he did was check to see if there was anything new or interesting going on Lucy’s side. It was like being hooked on one of their products, because the high it gave sucked him right in. But so far, he also stayed away from the video feed. Looking through her calendar or emails were cold and impersonal, but maybe the video was too close, too real, too much of a moral dilemma in crossing that line of a peeping Tom. That didn’t mean his addiction may one day require more feeding…

October had rolled around, and the air outside grew crisp and cold. It was a beautiful time of the year with the color changing leaves, reminding that winter was soon upon them. How quickly the time sure flew. The Dragneel Yakuza clan had already started preparing for their end of year Bonenkai to happen in mid-December. This plus the Shinnenkai in January were the two biggest parties the clan threw for all their members. The first is to forget the stresses of the past year, while the other was to welcome a successful new year. Natsu spared no expense on the food and drinks to take care of the loyalty and hard work their members contributed. From the emails, he knew that Lucy’s group had also started preparing for theirs. ‘Maybe I’ll crash her party,’ he mused to himself. ‘Oh, what’s this?’ His eyes fell on a new email of an appointment reminder for the next day. It was for Lucy’s monthly massage at an upscale spa. Natsu checked his own calendar and noticed he had nothing booked, no meetings, no shipments arriving— a perfect opportunity.

The next day, Natsu went to the spa early and spoke directly to the owner, paying them a nice chunk of change to allow him access and to play along. Lucy was scheduled for 2pm and arrived right on time. So, as he waited behind the scenes, the receptionist acted like normal and directed her inside. She had a regular masseuse, something Natsu knew he couldn’t fake upfront, so that person stood inside the room to greet her.

“Welcome, Ms. Heartfilia. I’ll step out while you get ready. Please lie on your stomach like normal.”

“Thank you, Kenji,” Lucy smiled. She’d been coming here for a couple years and was aware of the routine. The male masseuse had strong, but gentle hands and knew her body well by now.

Natsu had to admit he wasn’t happy to find out Lucy’s regular masseuse was a guy but held back from lashing out. He didn’t want to do anything to mess up this adventure— and oh, he planned to have his own revenge. It wouldn’t be as sexual as the soapland incident but knowing many of her trigger points meant he could do a bit of damage well enough. Now, Natsu had noted that Kenji’s voice was a bit deeper than his own, which would be difficult to fake, but the man explained he didn’t do much talking while working and played relaxing music during the session. Perfect. Natsu could just hit play and not talk at all.

“Ready, Ms. Heartfilia?” Kenji called out through the closed door.

The muffled yes was heard, and the man stepped away, leaving Natsu to his business. He entered the room and immediately turned on the pre-set music, a light instrumental with Asian undertones. It was quite pleasing to listen to. And there Lucy was under a silk sheet to cover her naked body, with her arms up and crossed, head perched on the relaxed hands, and hair up in a loose bun, revealing her beautiful neck. Natsu almost shuddered at the sight and knowledge he would get to touch her skin… it was the one thing she didn’t allow him to do at Soapland— touch. His grin grew as he rubbed his hands together to warm them before making the first move.

He moved the sheet to uncover Lucy’s lower half, up to the thighs, then applied a film of scented massage oils to his hands with a few drops over the taut muscles along her long legs, chasing the dripping liquid along her skin to smooth them over. His hands glide through several passes to the swell of her ass, then back down again all the way to the ankles, fingers applying pressure against the tendons and ligaments to gently work out any tension it encountered. Lucy sighed wispily as his hands massaged each foot, squeezing, smoothing, paying attention to each digit and every curve. His thumbs applied pressure at the arches, kneading the tight knots there from wearing heels all day long. He stayed focused on the area, her toes curling and flexing as the mewls leaching from her show their pleasure, until Natsu felt the knots give and relax away.

“Mmm, you’re getting good at that Kenji,” Lucy purred with a little huskiness in her tone.

Natsu grinned to himself as he lowered the sheet back down, so she stayed warm and moved onto her supple ass. Using both hands, he took his time to knead each cheek through the silken fabric, using his fingers to follow the gluteus muscles, starting near the leg, and following the swell of her curve upwards, slowly riding the fibers looking for any knots or tense areas. One cheek, then the other paying loving attention to and listening to the sounds Lucy made to clue him in on where to go. Every sigh a notch in his belt, each mewling purr a win. Natsu grew bolder, fanning out his thumb each time it got closer to her thighs to touch…

“Oh, Kenji,” Lucy whined, “you’re being a naughty boy today— keep it up.”

‘What?!’ Natsu’s hands paused and tensed for a split second before catching himself. Does Kenji mess with her too?! He shook his head and finished up in the area quickly trying not to let such thoughts stop him. ‘Just focus…’ Natsu grumbled in his head.

After applying more oil to his hands, he moved the sheet down to reveal Lucy’s back and for a second time, Natsu paused on what it contained. Her tattoo… It symbolized… he took a deep breath and dropped more oil on to the skin, willing away the memories breaching his mind. He didn’t want to think about it, not now. It was too painful.

“You okay, Kenji?” Lucy questioned as if noticing the slight pause or tremble in the man’s hands.

Natsu mumbled a soft Mmhmm and dived into the massage so Lucy wouldn’t grow more concerned, missing the uptick in the corners of her lips. He slowly smoothed along the skin using the base of his palms for pressure, each hand following the muscles, moving out from the waist, up the center of her back, and flaring out towards the sides just below the shoulder blades, repeating the same movement, each time increasing the speed while lessening the pressure. Next, he targeted the upper back and shoulder blades, an area he knew Lucy held a lot of tension from carrying the weight of her voluptuous bosoms. With precise ministrations, Natsu applied careful pressure with his thumbs and follows the curve of the blades up and around to the top of the shoulder. He then searched with the pads of his fingers for any knots along her trap muscles, moving up along the spine and fanning out to the top of her shoulders.

“Oh, yeah, right there,” Lucy mewled when he reached a specific spot.

The area around her spine, between the shoulder blades held the most tension and knots from constantly holding the upright, flexed posture that wearing heels will create. Her wispy sighs signaled the release of her tense muscles, bringing another wave of pride swelling in him. Natsu continued onto her neck, his strong hands kneaded the supple flesh, fingers palpating and soothing all the knots. Her neck too, held a few tense areas, especially around the base of the head, so he did his best to melt them away. He worked through Lucy’s mewls and moaning sighs, almost sexual in nature, aroused and a little heated in the face knowing his handiwork brought forth such sounds. Ugh, how he wanted to hear more of it! Lucy putty in his hands and spread between his thighs, calling out his name…

“You’ve gotten better at this… Natsu,” the cocky teasing tone, snapped him out of his dream.

“Natsu?” He tried failingly to disguise his voice. “I’m Kenji, Ms. Heartfilia.”

“Uh-huh. You think I can’t tell the difference Natsu?” Lucy quipped back with a chuckle. “Kenji’s routine is very different. Plus, I knew the moment I smelled your cologne.”

Busted.

“Tch. Well, if you knew it was me all along, why’d you let me do this?”

“Making you work is my payback.” She settled back down, relaxed on her arms. “Now, chop, chop, finish the job.”

This little minx! He was the one supposed to be torturing her this time, not the other way around! “Fine, kitten.” Natsu gritted out a smile and took hold of her neck again to placate and lull Lucy back into thinking he would go along. He massaged the sides with the tips of his fingers Both hands wrapped around, and his thumbs pushing up through her hair against the muscles on the back of her head.

“If only you’d taken care of me like this before,” Lucy mumbled.

Natsu paused and leaned over her ear. “Why not let me take care of you now?”

“You know the answer to that.”

“No, I don’t know the answer, that’s part of the problem!”

Lucy sighed. “Natsu, I don’t want to fight right now. I’m here to relax, not fight. If you’re done, then leave and send Kenji back in.”

“Oh, yeah. Why? Because he’s another one of your boy toys? He gonna be naughty again with you once I leave?!”

“Pfft, I said that knowing it was you, idiot.”

“I think you live to torture me, Angel. But you’re right. I don’t wanna fight right now either, so—” Natsu leaned down quick and latched his mouth onto the area between her shoulder blades, sucking hard.

Lucy squealed and reached back frantically trying to claw at his face, but he grabbed her hands, knowing if she struggled any harder, she risked completely exposing herself. He held her for a few seconds, and once satisfied he’d achieved his goal, let go.

“Natsu! Did you put a hickey on me?!”

“This Angel,” he trailed his fingers over Lucy’s tattoo as he spoke, “belongs to me. Will always be mine,” he whispered close to her ear. “You know it, I know it, and your boy toys will know it too.”

“I hate you.”

“Nah,” Natsu stood up and covered her back up with the sheet. “You hate that you don’t hate me. It’s okay. I still love you too. See ya around kitten.”

Natsu heard the woman’s sigh as the door closed behind him and smiled to himself. He knew she didn’t actually hate him, their relationship was just complicated at the moment, never love the actual problem between them… Though, it had been a dick move to give her a hickey, but that’s what Lucy gets for leading him on like that. She could’ve just stopped the massage immediately if she knew it was him all along, so to let him go through the entire process, it was tit for tat— and hey, at least it’s only temporary.

‘It’s your move next kitten…’

[rookie-ramsey]

Curveball, Chapter 6

Description: Two months after the ski lodge, life throws them a big surprise.

Preview: The words left Sienna’s mouth in a rush. “Olivia’s in labor. She’s in the ER right now. She was in a car accident and isn’t badly hurt, but it triggered labor.”

At that, Ethan felt his heart stop. His throat clenched, suddenly dry with worry. He didn’t remember breaking into a run, but the hallways of the hospital blurred past him as his feet carried him to the ER.

previous chapter

The baby shower began with lunch. Olivia got to go first, making sure to take at least one of everything. She took a seat next to Ethan at the table and leaned against his side as they started eating.

“How does it feel seeing a baby shower in your apartment? It looks like the baby aisle at Walmart exploded in here.”

Ethan chuckled. “I’m more concerned about what the conversation over there is related to.”

She arched a brow, watching curiously as Sienna whispered with Olivia’s mother and siblings and Alan in the corner of the room. “What could our relatives be gossiping about? My sister is writing something.”

“It’s hard to tell.”

After a few minutes, Sienna stood up and grinned. “We’re going to warm up with a little guessing game. I’ll tell a childhood story about one of the parents, and you guys get to guess who it was!”

Olivia couldn’t contain an amused smirk. “I guess this means I get to hear some more delightful Little Ethan stories.”

“Apparently so.” Ethan sighed.

Sienna glanced down at the paper and giggled before reading. “This parent used to wear a white bathrobe and plastic stethoscope and played hospital with stuffed animals. Who thinks that was Olivia?”

Several hands went up. Ethan bit back a smirk as her cheeks flushed a little.

“That’s right,” her mom confirmed. “She waltzed around the house in a little white robe, used every room in the house as a hospital room for her ‘patients,’ and insisted that we had to give them privacy.”

“It sounds like I’m finally getting some blackmail material,” Ethan whispered, earning an eye roll.

“Sure you are. Nothing will ever be more embarrassing than little you making out with your teddy bear.”

Sienna moved onto the next one. “True or false! When Ethan was really little, he had a fascination with Band-Aids.”

“Why do I think that’s true?” Olivia grinned.

“Because it is,” Alan confirmed. “When he was a toddler, all it took was a box of Band-Aids to keep him amused for several minutes. Of course, he put them on everything he could get his hands on. His toys, the furniture… the interior of the car on a road trip.”

Olivia laughed. “That’s adorable.”

“It’s wasteful.” Ethan shook his head, trying not to smile. The game continued for several minutes until people were finished eating.

Curious, Olivia watched as Sienna set out several unlabeled jars of baby food. “What are those for?”

Sienna grinned. “People have to guess the flavor by smelling it or taking a tiny taste if they’re brave enough. Just a heads up, the smells and tastes may not always be accurate!”

“Who goes first?”

“You pick.” Sienna handed her a basket containing slips of paper. Olivia reached it into, digging her fingers through the papers until she picked one. She opened it slowly to increase the suspense and smirked when she read the name.

“Zaid.”

Zaid startled, his eyes widening. “What?”

Amused, Olivia revealed the paper slip with his name on it. “You get to go first.”

Ines laughed and nudged Zaid toward the table. “Do it.”

He sighed. “I should have listened to my conscience and not put my name on that paper. I should have known better.”

Baz rolled his eyes and grinned. “Okay, Eeyore. Be a fair sport and play the game.”

Giving in, Zaid picked up the first jar and took a tentative sniff. He immediately set it down. “Is that supposed to smell edible? Because it does not.” He jotted down an answer on the slip of paper and reluctantly moved to the next one.

Olivia picked the second name. “Bryce, you’re up. Don’t chicken out.”

“You think I’d really back down? Never.” He picked up the first jar and smelled it, wrinkling his nose with uncertainty.

Jackie snorted. “I’ll pay you ten bucks to taste a mouthful.”

“Deal.”

Sienna handed Bryce a clean tongue depressor from the bag of supplies. “Here you go.”

Ethan arched a brow. “Are those from the hospital?”

“We didn’t have enough plastic spoons!”

“Stealing an entire Ziploc baggie of tongue depressors from a hospital that has thousands of them? Badass.” Bryce laughed and dug out a scoop of the baby food. He put it in his mouth, immediately making a face.

“Ten dollars,” Jackie reminded him.

Bryce swallowed it and tried not to gag. “That… was gross. Zaid, I’ll do your clinic hours if you try it.”

Zaid rolled his eyes. “Do I look like a moron? Don’t answer that.”  

After a few more games, they sat down to open the inordinate number of presents occupying their apartment. Olivia grabbed the first one and dug through the tissue paper until she found two tiny sets of pajamas designed to look like scrubs.

“These are so cute!”

Elijah grinned. “You’re welcome.”

Olivia picked a large present from her mom and nudged it toward Ethan. “Open that.”

Ethan removed the paper, exposing a box that seemed to contain some sort of sophisticated trash can. “What in god’s name is this?”

Rebecca laughed. “It’s a diaper genie! It’s basically a fancy trash can that’s supposed to contain the diaper smell inside them.”

“These exist?”

Rebecca chuckled. “Yes, and believe me, you’ll need it. If not for the diaper smell, then to stop them from getting into it when they learn to walk. When Olivia was a year old, she felt like knocking over a trash can full of diapers. Worst mess I ever had to clean up.”

“Really, Mom?” Olivia groaned. She opened the next present, which was from Sienna. She opened it and grinned as she dug out two stuffed dolphins, as well as two little onesies with dolphins on them.

“What do you think?”

“I love them!” Olivia folded the tiny outfits and put them back in the bag. She opened several more gifts, collecting plenty of clothes, diapers, and other necessities. When she opened the present from Baz, she giggled and held up the four matching sets of Christmas pajamas.

Ethan stared at them, his expression blank. “It’s October.”

Baz grinned. “So?”

“These are perfect. And I will make it my life’s goal to get Ethan to wear his.” Olivia gave Ethan a pointed look, wordlessly telling him he would not win the argument even if it wouldn’t happen for another two months.

Once most of her guests had left, Olivia curled up on the couch and rummaged through the gifts. Bryce and Sienna stayed to help her family clean up while Ethan helped her sort through their presents.

“I think this is my favorite.” She held up the picture frame from Alan, containing a copy of one of their sonograms and an empty slot they would use for a newborn picture when the twins were born.

Ethan thumbed through the customized journal from Naveen. His other hand subconsciously rested on Olivia’s stomach, and a moment later he felt the now-familiar little kick against his palm.

Olivia smiled, lightly placing her hand on top of his. “I don’t think you’ll ever know how cute you are when you do that. I don’t even think you realize you’re doing it half the time.”

“I guess it’s become an instinct.” Ethan slipped his arm around her.

“A cute instinct.” She gave his hand a squeeze. Stifling a yawn, she rested her head on his shoulder. “I can’t believe it’s already October. By December, they’ll be here. I feel like it’s gone by fast and slowly at the same.”

Nodding in agreement, Ethan pressed a kiss to her head. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired. Opening presents and eating is a lot of work when you have two people inside of you.”

He chuckled and drew her closer to his side. “I’m sure it is.”

Olivia draped her arm across him and snuggled into his chest. A mischievous smile lifted the corners of her lips. “I never thought I’d see Dr. Antisocial Ramsey attending a baby shower.”

Ethan rolled his eyes. “You forget that I’m capable of surprises.”

XXXXXX

It didn’t take long for maternity leave to give her cabin fever.

Since twins were almost always born earlier than expected, she scheduled her C-section for the 37th week. Even that was pushing it, but she wanted to let them develop as long as possible.

Halfway through her fourth episode of House, her phone chimed with a message from Ethan. She picked up her phone and grinned when she saw a picture of two baby onesies, each with the caption “Relax, my parents are doctors.”

She grinned as she looked at the picture to see that the onesies were blue and green to match Edenbrook’s logo. She typed a response, glancing at the time and realizing she would need to get ready for her appointment soon.

As she showered and dressed, a kick in her abdomen reminded her of just how soon their lives would change.

XXXXXX

As 1:30 approached, Ethan slipped out of his office to meet Olivia for her 35-week appointment. He pocketed his phone and car keys and made his way toward the elevator.

“Ethan!”

Ethan stopped, turning at the urgency of the voice behind him. He frowned, seeing Sienna rush toward him. “What happened?”

The words left Sienna’s mouth in a rush. “Olivia’s in labor. She’s in the ER right now. She was in a car accident and isn’t badly hurt, but it triggered labor.”

At that, Ethan felt his heart stop. His throat clenched, suddenly dry with worry. He didn’t remember breaking into a run, but the hallways of the hospital blurred past him as his feet carried him to the ER.

He made his way to the closed curtain in the corner and shoved it aside, finding Olivia resting on the bed with Bryce standing at her side. She held an ice pack to her bruised temple, clutching her stomach with her other hand.

Olivia looked up, her eyes wide with panic. “Ethan, it’s… it’s too soon for this to happen! I’m not supposed to have the C-section for two more weeks! My… my water broke in the cab…”

“Shh…” Unsure if he was trying to calm himself or her, Ethan took her face into his hands and met her worried eyes. “Everything’s going to be okay. I want you to take a deep breath and focus on me. Okay?”

Breathing shakily, she tried to take a deep breath. The heart monitor next to her beeped sharply, indicating her rising blood pressure. She winced when a contraction tore through her.

Ethan looked up, forcing his voice to remain steady for her sake. “Lahela, who’s on the OR floor right now?”

“Tanaka, but he’s in a heart transplant right now.”

“Scrub in.”

Bryce’s eyes widened. “Are you sure? I’m her friend.”

“Bryce, please. We can’t risk waiting too long,” Olivia pleaded, her voice trembling.

Bryce took one look into his best friend’s panicked eyes and nodded. “Alright. I’ll do it.”

Taking Olivia’s hand into his own, Ethan let out a small sigh of relief. “How nervous will you be?”

“More nervous than I’d be operating on a stranger, but I can do it. I promise,” Bryce assured him. “Let’s go.”

Ethan moved to the head of the bed. He kept a firm grip on Olivia’s hand as they rushed to the available operating room. Her hand clutched his tightly, seeking the reassurance. When they reached the OR, she squeezed her eyes shut against the threat of tears.

“Hey…” Ethan’s hand cradled her cheek. “Everything will be alright. Please try to believe me.”

“I’m trying…”

He helped her turn onto her side so she could receive the injection for the spinal block. Olivia gripped his hand, wincing when the needle pierced her skin. She let out a long sigh as Ethan gently turned her onto her back again.

Sensing her need for comfort, Ethan brushed a strand of hair from her face. “Talk to me. Try not to focus on the risks right now. Tell me the likelihood of both babies being fine.”

Olivia’s face furrowed in thought as she wracked her mind. “Babies delivered at 35 weeks have a 99 percent chance of survival, presuming that they don’t have pre-existing conditions.”

Ethan nodded, relieved when she seemed to relax a little. “You’re right. Remember that.”

He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding as he tried to convince himself to believe his own words. They gave the spinal block five minutes to take effect before transferring her to the operating table.

Ethan’s heart thudded against his ribs as Bryce and the surgical team he’d assembled gathered around, ready to begin. “Please tell me this isn’t your first time.”

“I’ve done one solo and assisted on three. I can do this,” Bryce assured him. He took a deep breath and firmly gripped the correct scalpel. “Ready to make the first incision.”

Ethan rested his hand on Olivia’s cheek. His thumb gently grazed her jaw. “Bryce is starting now. Focus on me and think about the fact that in just a few minutes, the babies will be here and they’ll be fine.”

Olivia leaned into his hand and drew in a long breath. With the numbing agent, she couldn’t feel the incisions. She squeezed her eyes shut, focusing on Ethan’s fingers raking gently through her hair.

The minutes that passed ticked by agonizingly as she tried to think about anything other than the chance of something beyond their control going wrong. Her racing heart slowed just a little, allowing some of the tension to leave her body when Bryce announced that they were in.

“Everything’s going fine. Just keep hanging in there, okay? I can see the first baby,” Bryce assured her.

“Hear that?” Ethan laced his fingers through hers. “They’ll be out soon.”

Olivia nodded, her movements slowing a little. The monitor next to her beeped as her blood pressure suddenly started to drop, first to a normal rate and then a little lower. Ethan frowned, worry etching his features.

“Her BP is dropping. She could become hypotensive.” He knew the complication was common during cesareans and that there was only a minimal chance of serious risks, but that didn’t stop his heart from racing faster.

Bryce picked up the pace a little, keeping his hands steady as he finished the incision and instructed one of the other residents to place the clamps. “We’re ready to get baby number one out!”

Moments later, a cry rang through the operating room as Bryce removed the first baby. When Bryce passed the newborn to him, Ethan reacted with an instinct he didn’t know he had and immediately cradled his son in his arms.

Ethan’s heart skipped a beat, swelling with affection. Olivia blined groggily before slipping into unconsciousness. His throat tightened with anxiety as he reluctantly surrendered the newborn to a nurse for an examination.

“Olivia.” He firmly patted her cheek, torn between fear and relief when she let out a subconscious groan in response. A minute later, he looked up as Bryce removed the second baby.

For a long moment, time slowed to a crawl when the baby remained quiet. Just as Ethan felt his chest clench with panic, the newborn emitted a loud cry that made him weak in the knees. He held his arms out, accepting his daughter into them. His heart stuttered in his chest as he gazed down at the fussing baby.

He held her for a few moments before letting the nurses take her. His mind swam with mixed emotions as he returned to Olivia’s side.

Ethan waited nervously as Bryce closed her up. A relieved sigh escaped him when Olivia’s blood pressure started to creep towards normal. “Bryce?”

“Yeah?”

“Good work.”

Once Olivia was transferred into a private room, Ethan stepped into the hallway. He slipped his phone out of his pocket and started the call. “Dad? If you’re not busy, you might want to make a trip to Boston…”

“Is everything okay?”

“Your grandchildren were just born. I thought I’d… did you already hang up?” Shaking his head, Ethan slipped his phone back into his pocket and looked up as Naveen approached him, a wide grin on his face.

“I just heard some gossip that my two favorite employees just became parents.”

Ethan nodded, unable to stop a wide smile from forming on his face. Naveen pulled him into a hug, squeezing him tight. Ethan returned it, swallowing the lump that formed in his throat. “Olivia passed out during the C-section, but she’ll be okay. She should be awake in just a couple of minutes.”

“I won’t keep you from her. I’ll come meet those babies later. You go be with your family.” Naveen released him and squeezed his shoulder.

“Thank you.” The smile never left Ethan’s face as he quietly slipped back into the room to check on Olivia and the babies.

His family.

He liked the sound of that.

Next Chapter

Note: This was definitely my favorite chapter so far. Stay tuned for more!