#shes just been very in the background about it

[dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling]

I'm back at it again with the Poppy Playtime fluff because chapter 4 broke me, and I need Doey and Kissy to be happy QvQ

Doey and Kissy friendship head canons

★ In quieter moments, they sit side by side and just enjoy each other's company. No words need to be said. They sometimes re-read books they have read a hundred times before and try to forget about all of the problems they have. It usually works!

★ When there's food, Doey makes sure to save her something. Occasionally not eating himself to make sure her needs are met. When he comes across something special, like a can of peaches or corn, he sets it aside for her to have later.

★ Doey is usually calm and composed, but when he gets mad, it's typically because something or someone has gone too far. It's rare these days but in those instances when his frustration boils over, it's never pretty.

★ Que Kissy, she's well aware of his temper. When something threatens her, or any of his other friends, it's hard for him calm down. Thankfully, through the years she's found ways to intervene. Like listening to him vents his frustrations or wrapping her arms around him to help soothe his nerves.

★ Doey and Kissy organize game nights with the other toys. Doey gathers everyone who wants to join in a cozy corner of Safe Haven and brings out various board games he's found around the factory. Sometimes they even make new rules to keep things interesting.

★ Charades is another game they play, however Doey has been banned from doing anything but guess. He's just too good at it! It wouldn't be fair if he kept giving people easy points. No, he's not sad about it. If anything, it's a complement!

★ While scavenging, Doey looks around the factory for things the smaller toys can turn into something pretty. He stumbles upon a half decent set of wooden blocks? They can be painted to look like buildings! It gives the smaller toys something to do and Kissy gets a new toy to play with.

★ Kissy cares very much for Doey, obviously, he is one of her closest friends and she couldn't be more grateful for him. And she knows he feels the same way. But the reality of their situation always lingers in the background, making the moments of happiness they share bittersweet.

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

Twelve Days: Part 5 **^

Here's the next part! Sorry it took so long 😭 But A LOT happens in this part and it might make y'all a little angry but I think the ending makes up for it!

Full Series Masterlist

WC: 10.5K

Warnings: Infidelity, mentions of slight germaphobia, mentions of unkept/untidy home life, fear of abandonment, sex (unprotected, penetrative), mentions of divorce.

It didn’t take as long as you had been expecting to hear back from Harry. Just another few days, you had just gotten into your car after a dinner service at a client’s home when his call came in. You were excited but feeling a bit nervous regarding the purpose of the call, it could be very casual but given the precarious situation you all found yourselves in, it could also be a call about things getting even more complicated. Regardless of what it was, you wanted to hear his voice.

“Hello?” You answered as you started to take off.

“Hi, how was your day?” He asked and you smiled.

“It was alright. And yours?” You asked.

“Busy. I had two lectures today, I’m just getting my things together before going home.” He shared.

“Okay. I am just heading home myself.” You shared.

“Good, I’m glad we get to accompany each other on our drives.” He said and you smiled.

“So how was it when you got back home?” You asked.

“We had a fight…she AirTag-ged my car.” He disclosed and your features twisted in concern.

“What?!”

“Right? Said she needed to confirm that I would go see you. I told her that I would’ve been honest about my plans if she asked.” Harry explained.

“It’s not like we did anything bad.”

“That’s what I told her. She seemed surprised for some reason.”

“Maybe because I’ve always been the more…liberated of the two.” You explained and he chuckled a bit and you smiled. “This would also disprove her theory that you’ve been spending time with me to make her jealous. I feel like that pisses her off more than anything.” You explained. “She’s always been first choice…” you said, “I get it though. She just puts herself out there more and whatnot, she’s easier to notice. I don’t mind that. I’m definitely more of a background girl, it’s where I thrive and feel comfortable so I’ve never competed her for it and I think she might…sense this…us as me trying to compete with her.” You explained.

“Well that’s shitty for me.”

“It is. And I promise you, I’m not trying to compete for you.” You assured him.

“I know, love. It just sucks thatshe is…” he said solemnly.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered.

“Don’t feel bad for me, love.” He hummed.

“I do because you don’t deserve it. No one does! I just hopes she…gets some clarity soon. This is getting so insane.” You sighed.

“I don’t want to…create a bigger divide but she’s being pretty harsh towards you. She thinks it’s stupid of me to invest all this time in you because according to her, you’re a flake.” He said and you pouted.

“A flake?” You asked for clarification, you were shocked.

“Yep…she’s just saying things at this point.”

“Yeah.” You hummed.

“Well, I’ve given her a month, in my head. To just get her ducks in a row, meet with the lawyer, figure out what she’s going to do…if she doesn’t, I’m going to talk to your parents and ask them to please…reason with her.” He shared and you hummed, “Do you think they would?” He asked you.

“I think so…they love you so much. My mom has always said you’re the son she never got to have.” You shared and he chuckled.

“Did she?”

“She did! Has actually said it on multiple occasions.” You reassured him.

“Well that does make me feel better.” He hummed.

“Good.” You grinned.

After getting that over with, it was just some light conversation about the good and bad parts of your days until he had arrived home. You were going to do some grocery shopping before getting back to your apartment but assured him you’d let him know when you’d made it home. 

Thankfully, Ash hadn’t shown up again. You half expected another visit and had been feeling on edge arriving at your apartment the last few days, but with each passing day you  tried to let the anxiety diminish. You were loving your quiet life alone so far. You also liked your apartment and were sad that you might have to move if he ever showed up again, but you just needed to not see him again. It was disrespectful really, his inability to honor your wishes after he had left you the way he had. You were feeling even more upset by Bea telling him where you had moved to. You let her know that what she had done was completely unacceptable and just blocked her on everything. You’d observed the way she always got a little more flirty when Ash was around but didn’t think it’d get to the point where she’d share your private information just to get on his good side. Especially when she knew you wanted nothing more to do with him. Hopefully, you’d seen the last of him so that you could actually focus on the dilemma at hand. Your sister. 

You were genuinely feeling really worried over what Julie’s next steps would be. You wanted to talk to her but she wasn’t answering your calls or responding to any of your texts just yet. Of course she had the right to be angry with you, but to think you were just using Harry for attention or to make her jealous? That wasn’t in your nature at all. To call you a flake? You were steadfast as can be, she knew this. You were raised the same. You were definitely hurt by her remarks, but you founds some solace in the knowledge that she was projecting her own insecurities about Joe onto you. This was the man who she had personally told you had some commitment issues! The man who undoubtedly made his way back into her life when he saw the seemingly perfect life she was leading with Harry via her social media, through the outlet she had used to allow him back into her life. 

You wanted to correct this narrative Julie had made up of you so badly because she ought to know you better than what she was choosing to believe of you. You had never had the type of sister relationship that made you best friends, like you’d mentioned to Harry, there’d always been an air of competition. Being just three years older than you, you’d coincided academically on a few occasions and you really didn’t start to “fight back” until high school. Naturally, you were a bit more likable because you were more laid back . You were great in your classes without imparting as much effort, which surprised your teachers. You soon learned that they expected you to be a little more of a wooer as she had been but when they learned you weren’t they eased up on you, the other students did too. Comparison was a killer and after one awful fight she told you that you had ruined her senior year. She had been cold towards you after that until she was off at college. And well, you decided not to go that route, you went to culinary school instead. And that gave her enough of the sense of superiority that she needed to have over you to placate her.

It had been a week after your conversation with Harry that you had your appointment with your therapist and had gotten to speak to her about what your sister had been saying and how you were feeling about it all. She had been supportive of you trying to go speak with her and so you had done just that. It was the end of her workday and though you felt like a stalker for being parked next to her car waiting for her…this was the only way you’d get anything from her. When you saw her approaching the car you hopped out of yours. As soon as she caught your gaze she noticeably became deflated. 

“What are you doing here?” She asked you and you offered a slightly nervous smile.

“Hi.” You greeted Julie. “I was just hoping we could go for dinner and talk?” You asked hopefully.

“About?” She asked cooly.

“What you saw.” You said and you saw her lips purse a bit as she gnawed the inside of her cheek pensively.

“I don’t know…I mean…I know what I saw, I don’t think we need to rehash it.” She stated as she crossed her arms.

“Well you’re still not talking to me so…”

“Because you kissed my husband!” She scowled.

“I know and I’m sorry-”

“No you’re not.” She cut you off.

“I’m not sorry for kissing him. I’m sorry that my actions upset you and angered you.” You clarified.

“So you’re sorry you got caught?” She asked.

“Not necessarily…I mean, I know that you actually don’t care that I kissed him. You don’t love him, so I know that it didn’t hurt you.” You said and she glanced away, “So I’m here to figure out what exactly you’re still so offended with me over.” You said and her gaze found yours again.

“You couldn’t have gone for anyone else?” She asked.

“I didn’t go for him, Julie! We were literally just talking about the things that we were dealing with. I mean, we’ve always had a good relationship as friends, you know that! But through these experiences we’ve been through we bonded on a new level. The attraction was just…there. It wasn’t on purpose. It wasn’t a plan of any sort! And the fact that you believe I would do something like that…” you said sadly, “I’m not calculating like that. You know that. And to be quite honest with you, I feel like…your anger actually has nothing to do with me. It’s just being directed at me and that makes me upset.” You said and her jaw clenched a bit. “Well…that’s all I wanted to say so…” you trailed off and she just nodded but said nothing else. 

After standing there in silence for a few seconds you just got into your car and left. You had done your part and now, the ball was in Julie’s court. You hoped that she would give what you’d said some honest thought and consideration. You had only been on the road for a few minutes when a call came in from Harry.

“Hey.” You greeted him.

“That was enthusiastic.” He chuckled sardonically and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Sorry. I’m just heading home from ambushing my sister.” You informed.

“Ah…I take it didn’t go too well?” 

“Not really…” you confirmed. “She didn’t say much apart from the usual accusations of me interfering in your marriage.” You sighed. “I also presented to her the idea that maybe the things she’s been saying of me are actually her displacing her anger with her situation with Joe onto me. That one did upset her, I saw it in her eyes.” You elaborated.

“Yeah, she doesn’t love to be in the wrong…” Harry chuckled. 

“Yeah. And have you made any headway with her?”

“I don’t know…we’ll see tomorrow. She has an appointment with the lawyer. I’ve already asked mine what I can do if she refuses to sign.” 

“And what did the lawyer say?”

“I can petition through the court for them to serve her the divorce papers. If she does’t sign within a certain timeline then the judge can make a default ruling to dissolve the marriage. So there is a way to proceed if she doesn’t abide by my timeline. I just…I don’t want to put her through that humiliation because the only place I know where to find her apart from our house would be her job.”

“Yeah, that’s low…” you agreed. “I mean, you can AirTag her…” you chuckled and he laughed.

“I could…that low has been reached.” He hummed in amusement. “We also have to get a court date if I go that route and who knows how long that would take.”

“Yeah…let’s just hope she does the right thing and comes around.”

“Yeah.” Harry agreed. “I’d like to see you again soon.” He said after a beat of silence.

“I’d like to see you too.” You hummed.

“Been seeing those videos of the couples painting each other…” Harry shared and you giggled.

“Is that what you want to do?”

“Yeah! I think it’d be fun, don’t you?” He asked and you giggled some more.

“Yeah, I think so too!”

“And I can cook for you this time.”

“Love that.” You hummed.

“And we can ask each other all the questions we have for each other over dinner and the painting.” He added to his suggestion.

“Yeah! That sounds like such a fun evening!” You agreed excitedly.

“Good! So let me know when you’ll have at least two days in a row off so that we can also have a little extra time the day after.”

“Okay, I’ll check my work calendar when I get home.”

“Perfect.” Harry smiled. “How are you holding up? Did Ash show up again?”

“I’m alright, still feeling a little…annoyed, I guess. But no, he didn’t come back.” You shared.

“Would you want him to come back? I mean, just so you can clear the air?”

“The more I give it some thought, not really. He’s said what he wanted to say…that he made a mistake, that he loves me and wants me back…” you said with a sarcastic, sing-song-y cadence. 

“Do you want to say anything to him?”

“Just how much he hurt me but if anything, that gives him more power over me and I’d hate that.” You confessed.

“I’d hate that for you too. But if you need that for your closure then it might be worth thinking over before completely disregarding it.” Harry advised, as much as he really did hate the thought of you giving Ash another morsel of your time and attention. He wasn’t jealous, more protective than anything. You were still a shell of yourself and he hated that Ash had done that to you. 

“Maybe you’re right…but I mean, just saying it out loud is enough for now.” You said, “Thank you for…making me feel comfortable and safe enough to be able to say it.” You thanked him.

“Of course, love.” Harry replied. 

Harry was happy that he could make you feel safe and looked after. But he also wanted that same reassurance from you. He understood why you weren’t leaning into that 

and into your feelings for him just yet though. You had every right to feel wary about what you two had going, especially with the stance Julie had taken. But that also meant that right now he had no one to really talk about his heavier and darker feelings. He knew for a fact that if he communicated that to you, you’d be there for him but he also didn’t want to overburden you while you yourself were struggling.

“And what about you? I know that maybe your feelings for Julie are not what they used to be but…it also can’t be easy for you.” You said and he bit his lip as he gave some thought to what he wanted to say.

“You’re right about that…It hasn’t been easy. I mean, because of my family and all, it’s created this…fear of being left behind.” He explained. “That weekend that I went to see you?”

“Mhmm?”

“She didn’t come home until Monday afternoon and when I got in she’d left her suitcase by the garage door and I was just filled with dread that she was leaving without saying anything to me.” He explained. “It felt…confusing…because, while I know that the love isn’t there anymore I still…invested a lot in her. In our home…”

“Yeah, I get that.” You assured him.

“And again, it was just that fear of not having a family again. That after everything I did to build a happy home life for myself, I’d still end up…alone.” He disclosed. After a few seconds of quiet he cleared his throat. “Sorry, that was a lot.”

“Don’t be. I was just…processing, empathizing…” you said and he hummed, “If anything, I’d like you to say all of this to me as it comes. You’re always here for me. I want to be here for you too.”

“I want to tell you more but I don’t want to put more on your plate.” He explained.

“I appreciate that but I am feeling better…mentally.”

“Yeah? Since when?”

“Since…you.” You said and Harry smiled.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Honest. It’s nice to have a friend and someone to care for with reciprocity.” 

“It is. And for the record, I know that you’ll always be in my life. But a part of me is also scared that we won’t be able to have more down the line. Like, what if that gets ruined?”

“So my same fear?” You asked and he hummed.

“Guess so.” He confirmed.

“Well, there’ll always be space for you in my life. I mean that. I feel good when I’m with you and I can only imagine that it’ll only get better if we…are more.” You said timidly.

“I think so too.” Harry hummed and you smiled. “I understand that we both have things to heal from though and that it might take some time to get anywhere near where we might want to get eventually…” he trailed off and chuckled, “I don’t know if maybe I’m getting ahead of myself but I really like you and I like that I can fully be myself around you.” He explained.

You could feel your heart pounding so hard at what he was saying. You could feeling a warmth growing inside of you and spreading all throughout your body. This crush you had on him had you so affected. To hear him saying this was more of a relief than a cause for anxiety. You hadn’t allowed yourself to think that far out of fear that maybe it was intense for now but would fizzle out at some point down the line. But to hear him say that he wanted to give you two an honest shot when things got better, it made you feel a little less delusional. You loved his vulnerability with you. You could also be yourself around him in a way that was so pure. You knew he wouldn’t judge or make you feel bad for it. There was a baseline safety with him that helped your closeness grow quickly. 

“Ummm…sorry. D-did I lose you?” He asked nervously and you shook your head quickly. 

“Oh my god, no sorry! I was just…so happy to hear you say that.” You giggled.

“Thank god…” he chuckled in relief.

“So sorry.” You laughed through an apology again and he joined you as well. 

“Ummm…a-are you far from Santa Barbara?” He asked and you bit your lip.

“Like…almost 30 minutes?”

“Hmmm…do you work tomorrow?” 

“I actually don’t…” you shared.

“Can I come see you?” He asked.

“Now?”

“Yeah!” He chuckled, “If you don’t mind the company, it’s gonna be a long weekend. I won’t have class until next Wednesday.”

“You want to spend a whole ass week with me?”

“Yeah. If you’ll have me.” He hummed.

“What about Julie? I don’t want to instigate any bigger issues.”

“She hasn’t really been staying at the house since she returned from her weekend getaway.” Harry shared, “So…I think she’ll be fine.”

“Well then, I’d love to have you over.” You confirmed happily.

“Great! I’m just getting home so I’m gonna get showered, pack, and head over to you.”

“Perfect! See you soon!” You chirped, not even bothering to minimize your excitement. 

“Alright, I’ll be seeing you soon.” Harry chuckled.

 ***********

It was nearing 8pm when Harry was calling to tell you he was outside of your building. You hurried down with your visitor’s badge to ensure his car was safe while parked there and soon enough you were heading back up to the warmth of your apartment.

“Have you eaten?” You asked him as he followed you in.

“Not yet. Do you want to order in?” 

“We can but I’m not too hungry to be honest.” You explained.

“Has that been constant lately?” He asked as he set his luggage against your couch and his tote down on the couch.

“No, it’s actually been better. But I’m just…coming off my anxious wave after I ambushed Julie. I feel like it was alright but maybe I’ve made things worse.” You explained your concern as he came up to you and grabbed your hands.

“I get the anxiety but I must say that I’m proud of you for making an effort. And well, you know your sister, and whatever she does with what you said is out of your hands now, love. So try not to be too worried about it.” He advised you and you exhaled and nodded. “I know it’s a lot easier said than done, but you’ve said what you needed to and done your part, yeah?” He asked you and you nodded. “That’s all there is to it.” He said with an encouraging smile.

“I know…” you sighed and glanced down as his hands ran up your arms and rubbed over your shoulders soothingly a few times.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?” You asked as you turned your gaze back to him.

“I’m really proud of you for doing that. I know it wasn’t easy for you.”

“Thank you.” You whispered happily.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked next and you smirked a bit.

“Of course.” You hummed as one of his hands grabbed your chin gently and angled you up, “Kiss me whenever you want.” You said softly and he smiled.

“I don’t think you know what you’re unleashing…” he responded and you giggled.

“Show me then.” You smirked and he leaned in the rest of the way until your lips were meeting.

You loved to kiss Harry and thought of it often when you’d get lost in your day dreams. The shape of his lips fit so nicely against yours. The pressure of them pressing to your own, the eagerness and need that you could feel flooding the atmosphere between the two of you was addicting. If only he knew how much you were affected by this. Your mouth parted easily to let him in as his tongue swiped against your bottom lip. He moaned in relief in perfect unison with you when his tongue smoothed against yours. He had been longing for your taste as much as you had been longing for his. You grabbed his hands and guided them around your waist and he was quick to hug around you, pulling you even closer to his body as your kiss deepened. It was so easy to get lost in the moment with Harry. You were not sitting on your counter with him standing between your legs as you made out. His hands were up your shirt and yours were feeling over his biceps. You hadn’t ever been with someone as muscular as he was. He didn’t even have to flex for you to feel how strong and built he was. 

You were suddenly startled apart by your phone ringing loudly across the counter indicating that it was time for you to begin your “no screen” time. It was easy to find yourself doom scrolling, especially when you struggled to sleep, so you’d made the resolution to cut down your screen time starting at 8pm each night.

“Can you grab it for me?” You asked Harry, your lips smearing into his as you asked your question and he nodded.

“Sure.” He responded and slid his hands from beneath your shirt and walked around the counter to grab your phone before bringing it back to you.

“Sorry, I’m trying to stop using my phone by 8pm each night.” You explained as you stopped the alarm and proceeded to turn on “Do Not Disturb” mode for the night.

“Smart!” He said as his hands landed on your thighs.

“It’s hard but research says cutting off screen time before bed helps.”

“Well, that’s true.” He assured you and you smiled. “And it’s 8 already? I should order something in.” He said before stuffing his hand down his back pocket and pulling out his phone. “Are you hungry now?” He asked you with a smirk.

“Yeah, more now.” You chuckled.

“Hungry for anything in particular?”

“Tacos?” You suggested.

“Ooh, perfect! What’s good in your area?” He asked and soon you had selected a little mom and pop, hole in the way a couple miles away that had never failed you before. 

After placing the order you suggested Harry get into something more comfortable and then get settled in.

“Sorry, I don’t have any space for your toiletries.” You mumbled, “But you’re more than welcome to put your clothes in a drawer! The one of the top right should be empty.” 

“It’s fine. As long as you don’t mind the bag staying up here. If not I’ll just keep it in my soot case.” He said with the Baron Trump meme accent. You looked to him and burst into laughter at this.

“I’m dead! I love that video!” You cackled.

“It’s funny!” He laughed along, “One of my students showed it to me…s’been stuck in my head ever since.” He explained with a smile.

“It is a gem…well, I don’t mind you having your things out for easier access!” You assured him.

“I’m tidy. I promise.” He chuckled and you rolled your eyes playfully. “Tell me what your pet peeves are in a shared space, so that I can avoid them.” Harry requested.

“Ummm…just don’t be gross. Ash used to do this ridiculous thing where he’d leave his dirty laundry beside the hamper…” You recalled and Harry chuckled, “That pissed me off. Like it’s right there!” You expressed.

“Yeah, that’s stupid.” He chuckled.

“Or leave his towel on the ground, like he was in a fucking hotel.”

“Oh god…” Harry grimaced, “The smell…”

“Yeah! Mildewy and ugh…thinking of it is giving me the ick.” You frowned. “One time he did not unpack it from the gym and-”

“I know where it’s going, you don’t need to tell me.” He said and you giggled.

“I discovered it, so I have to tell you.”

“Fine. Go on.”

“It grew mold. The whole bag! And who discovered it in the garage?”

“Not Ash!”

“Exactly! And it was so humid that week…God, that was horrifying. Then he had the gall to be pissed at me for throwing away his Alo gym bag…ridiculous.” You huffed.

“If he cared so much about it why did he leave it in that state? What a prick.” He said and you nodded in agreement.

“Exactly what I said…he probably left it in his trunk, encountered the smell and just left it in the garage for me to find and wash.” you rolled your eyes. “And like, he wasn’t like nasty apart from those things. Like, you could tell his mom would do those things for him and his brothers.” You explained and he nodded. “What about you?” You asked.

“Ummm… well growing up my house was very neat until my mom met that prick of a man and then it was pretty unkept. I did a lot of the cleaning up so uh…I guess just clutter and dishes in the sink. That invites ants and cockroaches, which I detest. And well, one time I was going to treat myself to some biscuits and was met with a mouse in the packet so uh… yeah, I’m a little bit of a clean freak.” He explained. You could see that when he talked about these things he got a distant look in his eyes. Like he had to remind himself that, that wasn’t his life anymore. “Also, no eating in bed.” He added, “Because that is literally inviting bugs.” He explained and you nodded.

“Noted. Though I must admit, I have eaten in bed…specially when I’ve gotten sick and no one’s around to look after me.”

“Well you’ve got me now so…no need for that.” He said and you smiled.

“Yeah.” You hummed. “But being in the valley, there are just critters around so it is important to keep things extra clean. I haven’t had any encounters, thankfully! I’m very averse to them.” You explained.

“Yeah, they’re gross.” He agreed.

“Anything else?” You asked.

“Oh! Getting on the bed in outside clothes.”

“Okay, yes!” You agreed, “There are “safe” spaces for me though, I don’t know about you? But like if I visit my parents or friends that don’t have pets, I wouldn’t mind a quick sit on my bed, not gonna roll around in it either…” you said and he chuckled, “But that’s not as gross as if I had gone out to a restaurant or the movies, for example.”

“Well, wouldn’t your car seats have all the germs from everywhere else? So when you sit in the car that gets on your clothes, even if you were in a safe space…” you pouted after he explained.

“Oh god…we could be laying in filth right now…” you said with feigned concern.

“When did you last wash your comforter?” He asked, you knew he was trying to come off pretend-horrified but his eyes said otherwise.

“I’m messing with you! Literally over the weekend. I promise!” You laughed as he looked at you skeptically.

“Pinky promise?”

“Yeah!” You said as you extended your pinky out to him and he wrapped his around yours.

“If I get pink eye, we know what happened here.” He joked and you rolled your eyes at his dramatics as he sniggered. He then interlaced his fingers with yours and just held your hand in his. You could see that there was a lot going on in his mind and you wanted to help however you could.

“Is there anything you want to talk about?” You asked him tentatively.

“Tons! But ummm…time and place.” He said as he glanced down at your hands. You squeezed his hand and he glanced up at you.

“Tell me.” You insisted and he sighed.

“Just that…when your sister leaves, for good, I was thinking about how long I’d have to be alone in that house. Like…I saved up a lot for that with the hopes of having a life and a family there, you know?” You nodded in understanding. “I don’t know if I could be there as comfortably if I were alone. I’d hate to sell it but…what would be the point in keeping it?” He asked and you hummed. “And you really don’t have to say anything about it, I just…am a little nervous to be all alone again. And like, I know that I wouldn’t be totally alone, but in a way I haven’t been in a decade you know?”

“Yeah, I get that.” You assured him.

“Like things would be missing that have been there since we moved in together…half of the things would be gone…and well, I couldn’t very well ask or expect you to be able to visit as often as I’d probably like…” he added. 

“I get it. It’s scary.” You said and he nodded.

“How’d you do it?” He asked and you smiled.

“Well, I’m in the middle of that and well, I am depressed!” You chuckled and he smiled, “So…still learning how to cope, I guess. This, with us? It’s helped. I don’t feel so alone anymore.” You explained.

“Good.” He hummed. 

“Yeah, so if you… need me to go out there and hang out you can ask. Whatever the reason in your brain is that’s holding you back from asking me for reciprocity? It’s wrong. If being there and enjoying the home you worked so hard for is important to you, then it’s important to me too.” You assured him with a sincerity that he hadn’t seen from anyone in years and you saw his lips turn up a bit.

Harry just felt this sudden rush of warmth overcome him. He definitely wanted you over more, he just felt a little bad about it right now while things were still up in the air. He wanted to live there forever, he hadn’t committed to buying a home thinking that he would one day grow sick of it. It was heaven on earth to him. He could step out onto his balcony and see the ocean from it! Of course he had made compromises along the way to accommodate Julie like in decor, in paints, upgrades…but he still loved the house. And to know that you’d be willing to make the drive out and spend time with him there simply because he loved it and was comfortable there, well, that was almost more than he could ever ask for. So he was really glad that you had offered it.

“I’d actually really like that.” He finally said and you smiled.

“Okay. Then we’ll make it happen.” You assured him and he smiled and let go of your hand but only because he was pressing himself up to kiss you again. And as your new normal seemed to be, you got lost in it until the delivery person’s call was interrupting you.

You had initially been concerned that maybe you’d pushed him too far or said too much but by the way he was acting now, it seems you had said the correct thing. Harry was a protector, he always had been that way. He was very concerned for your sister, for you, your family… it was never in a way that made you feel incapable, but he just liked to show you all that he would take care of you all if shit hit the fan. You knew that it had been hard for him not to be able to do that for you in the last year, even when he was going through his own stuff. So now, you wanted to allow him to make up for lost time and as you had said, you wanted to reciprocate the way he made you feel and were glad that he felt like you were.

“M’afraid you’re not gonna get a turn, love…” Harry practically slurred with his cheek smushed up against your stomach. You were currently laid on the couch, longways of course, and had put on “Miss Congeniality”. But you had agreed to give each other massages. However, Harry had elected for you to massage his head and it was putting him to sleep.

You giggled, but kept on going. “S’alright.” You responded softly. You could feel him growing heavier against you. “Maybe we should move to the bed though. Don’t want you to have a rough night.” You explained.

“In a minute.” He mumbled.

“Okay.” You agreed. 

Soon enough you’d made it to your bed and as soon as you got under the covers he was reaching for you and pulling you against him. You smiled as you snuggled in against him. You felt him kiss your shoulder before he exhaled and you knew it would be so easy to fall asleep tonight.

*************

When you woke up the next morning it wasn’t because of your alarm, it was just a force of habit. But you were shivering from the cold and were pleased that it was apparently raining. You could heard the soft patter against your bedroom window. And then, you heard Harry humming along to John Mayer just a few feet away in the kitchen. Despite wanting to stay tucked away in the warmth of your bed, you got up and hurried into the bathroom to relieve yourself and freshen up a little bit. When you emerged, Harry was back in bed, topless and smiling at you.

“Morning.”

“Good morning.” You smiled.

“You were snoring.”

“I was not…” you mumbled bashfully as you headed back over to the bed.

“You were! But not like, loud or scary, it was just soft.” He described with a grin. “It was cute! Like a cartoon.” He assured you and you rolled your eyes as you got back in bed. “I just put on some coffee.”

“Thanks.” You hummed as you turned on your side to face him.

“Course.”

“Now, c’mere, please. It’s cold.” You requested and he smiled and hurried over into your side. 

“What do you wanna do today?” He asked.

“Be lazy.” You said and he chuckled. “I do have a client to cook for tomorrow, s’just dinner prep, so I should be back around 6-6:30 the latest.” 

“Would you be up to doing something after?” He asked.

“Yeah!” You hummed.

“Something lowkey, yeah?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” You confirmed.

“Perfect. Now, I’m gonna kiss you.” He mumbled.

He moved closer and leaned in until your lips were meeting slowly but still eager and saturated with passion. Your hand landed on his chest and slid over his shoulder, tugging him into you, inviting him to settle over you. Your legs tangled momentarily as he started to straddle you. He was holding your jaw as your kiss deepened even further. His hands were sliding up your body, dragging your top up as he went. You sat up to help him pull it off and as soon as he was able, he was back on you, his lips littering your chest in kisses and delicate but playful nicks to your breasts. Your fingers combed through his hair, relishing in the sensations he was giving you. You were absolutely desperate for him and your skin was tingling, you were desperate to feel the warmth of his hands over your arms. You wanted to kiss him again and so you tried to tug him up and he quickly got the hint and kissed up your chest, neck, and jaw before kissing you sloppily. You ground up against him to feel the bulge in his thin pajama pants against you. He grinned and ground down against you with more intent. 

“Is that what you want?” He asked and you blinked up at him.

“More.” You whispered and his gaze softened.

“You sure?” He asked you and you nodded.

“Yes. Please.” You beseeched and Harry smiled before kissing you once more. In moments, he was helping you undress. You were both moving impatiently and albeit a little clumsily, but you were absolutely desperate for each other. And as his naked body hovered over yours you finally felt a little bit better. Relieved. “Please get inside me.”

“Okay.” He hummed and kissed your lips once more, “Didn’t think to bring condoms. D-do you have some?” He asked and you huffed.

“No.” You muttered in slight irritation. You hadn’t planned to ask him to have sex with you, if you had, you would have stocked up, just in case.

“Would you care if we didn’t use one?” He asked and you bit your lip pensively. “Obviously, we don’t have to if you’re not comfortable with it. And well, I can go buy some really quick and give you some time t-to really think about if you really want to do this. You know, in case you maybe have s-some doubt?” He asked.

“I don’t have any doubts.” You assured him with a smile, “D-do you?” You asked and he shook his head, his little smirk mirroring your own. 

“No. I can go get the condoms.” He said again and you bit your lip for a second.

“Ummm…that’s alright.” You assured him and as happy as he was to hear you say that, he gave it a few seconds to let you change your mind.

“Sure?” He asked again and you nodded.

“I’m so fucking sure.” You whispered through a nervous chuckle and he smiled and kissed you again.

“I’ll be mindful to pull out, okay?” He mumbled into your lips.

“Yeah.” You agreed as you raised your leg over his hips to give him space to get inside of you. You could feel the heat and weight of his cock pressed up against you. “I want you so bad.” You whispered.

“I do too, baby.” He hummed as he ground down, letting his cock settle between the sticky and swollen folds of your pussy. You shivered when his tip kissed at your clit with his soft thrusts. “Right there?” He asked and you nodded frantically.

“Yeah, that feels good.” You confirmed breathily and he smiled as his eyes bore into yours.

“Go on then, get what you need.” He hummed lowly and you wasted no time in grinding along with him at your desired pace. You whined lowly as you started to feel the pleasure escalating from the friction. Just when you were getting close you stopped yourself.

“Want to stop?” He asked you, looking into your eyes to ensure everything was okay.

“No, but I don’t want to come like that.” You explained a bit bashfully. 

“Oh…I see.” He hummed with a smirk on his face that made you blush. “Get me inside then.” You smiled and reached down between your bodies. You grabbed a hold of his cock, he was so fucking hard. You raised your hips a bit as you guided him down to your entrance and when you felt that slight dip you rubbed him over your slit a few times. Your eyes flickered up to his only to see his brows furrowed together at the feeling of being just on the edge of slipping inside of you.

“Do it.” You whispered and he let his weight drop down to his hips and just like that he was being swallowed up by your hot and wet muscle. The two of you moaned in unison when he sunk in all the way and collided with your back wall. He held inside for a few second before groaning as he drew back and sunk in again. You exhaled shakily and grabbed his face to kiss him deeply. “Harder.” You said and he nodded before fucking into you with more force and that was absolutely what you were after. You moaned in relief and he kissed you deeply again.

“Good?” He asked.

“Yeah, it feels so good!” You whined and he hummed in satisfaction.

You were already so close, but you wanted to be closer, as close as was physically possible. You wanted to feel overwhelmed by him in the best way possible. And when he delivered his next thrust harder than before you couldn’t help the moan that fell from your mouth. Harry groaned and went again and again, relishing in the satisfied, little grunts you were making. You were absolutely drenching his cock but you couldn’t help it because he was thrusting up against the most sensational spot inside of you. It was almost too deep for you but you welcomed the feeling, you wanted to feel the ache after he was gone in a few days. And it’s almost like he could read your mind as he thrust in and held himself inside of you, grinding into you, watching as your eyes squeezed shut and you shuddered at the sensation of him fucking you that deep.

“Fuck y’feel so good!” You whimpered as you squeezed your legs around his hips and he grinned as he watched your brows pinching together.

“Not as good as you feel, baby.” He hummed lowly, “So fucking wet and hot…” he grumbled, “Shit…gonna need you so fucking badly. All the time. Gonna be dreaming of how nice it feels.” He muttered against the column of your throat. 

You were completely covered in goosebumps, you were trying to stop your legs from trembling but you wouldn’t be able to hold that off for much longer. It just felt too fucking good…he was hitting a part inside of you that even had your clit tingling, if you rubbed on it, it would truly be too much. As badly as you wanted and needed to come, you wanted him to keep fucking you. For him to be your first fuck after all this time, it was well worth it. You could hear the wet squelches of your arousal slicking up his cock and helping him fit inside of you. His girth and length were to die for and absolutely addictive.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me come!” you warned him and he grinned down at you, very pleased with himself for how fucked out he had you already.

“Already?” He gloated slightly and you smiled and nodded. Your vision was even blurry at this point as tears of ecstasy and joy welled up in your eyes. “You’re already so fucking gone f’me, S’gonna wipe you out.” He said smugly and you hummed with a slight smile.

He was right, this orgasm would absolutely ruin you and melt your brain. He was literally fucking you better, quite literally forcing your brain to flood your body with that deliciously and slightly terrifying cocktail of oxytocin and dopamine. You swore your skin was tingling, every single cell in your body was going to contribute to this orgasm. But the longer you held off the more intense everything felt. Your walls were throbbing uncontrollably and you were trying so hard to just hold off for a second to make it last longer but it made it worse, as you squeezed the deep plunges of his cock became even more pleasurable and your legs started to tremble and your breathing to shallow.

“Come on, baby. Give it t’me.” He encouraged you and you nodded before pulling him down to kiss you and as your lips met urgently in a messy kiss you started to come. You emitted these pathetic whines and whimpers you’d never ever made before as the ecstasy took over every single part of your body. You were trying not too make too much noise but you were on fire and it had never felt like that before, it was almost too much! Harry’s lips parted from yours so that you could breathe and properly release your sounds as your hips ground up into his to keep the pleasure going. One of your hands pressed down on his butt, holding him close to you and the other was tangled in the curls at the back of his head. He groaned as you squeezed hard around his cock. Your tight, hot muscles were suffocating and contracting around his girth, he nearly fucking drooled from how delicious it felt to be buried in you like this. “M’gonna come.” He panted.

“Come inside of me.” You slurred and he moaned at the mere idea of getting to flood your hot, little pussy with his sperm. He got goosebumps as he thought about how good it would feel to have you take it all. To pull out and see it dripping from your swollen and wrecked little hole only for him to push his cock back into you and get his load back into you. “Please, come in my pussy.” 

“Fuck, baby…” he chuckled as he pressed his forehead to yours, “I’m gonna come so hard.” He panted, “Gonna drown your little pussy.” He mumbled as his abs started to clench and his toes to curl. And moments later he was grunting through three hard and pointed thrusts before stilling. He pressed right up against you and moaned deeply in satisfaction as he came undone. He felt his muscles spasming, struggling to hold his weight as he started to gush inside of you. You could feel the dramatic twitches of his cock lodged up deep inside of you as he filled you up, just as he promised and it was so good, his hips were moving by his own accord at this point and he was enslaved to the feeling of being inside of you, no matter how sensitive it was starting to feel for him. “Fuck…” he panted lowly. 

You could feel his arms trembling and just hugged him tight, encouraging him to drop his weight over you and he did easily. Your fingers danced and tickled over the heated and slightly damp skin of his back as he came down from it. You were finding comfort in his deep inhales as he continued trying to catch his breath. After a few more moments of this he was still completely silent. You knew there was nothing wrong because he was practically melted against your body, and you smiled and kissed the top of his head as he started to sponged a few sloppy kisses along your jaw. With the little strength he had built up again, he pulled you both onto your sides. He slipped from you with the change in position but you draped your leg over his hip and his hand immediately ran up your leg soothingly while he rested his head over his other arm. You were smiling as you just watched him, he still had his eyes closed as he regulated his breathing.

“You alright there?” You inquired, your voice was a whisper but he could hear the slight hint of smugness in it.

“Just a little light headed.” He chuckled his confession and you giggled and reached for his face. You caressed the side of his face lovingly with the backs of your fingers.

“Want me t’get you some water?” You asked.

“No, stay here with me.” He responded and you smiled.

“‘Kay.” You whispered. You just watched him for a few seconds until he slowly blinked his eyes open. You smiled as he squinted a bit.

“Jesus, I’m seeing spots.” He laughed lowly through his admission and you started to giggle along with him. “Don’t laugh at me.” He griped and you leaned forward and smooched over his pouted lips.

“M’not. I’m laughing with you.” You mumbled against his mouth and he quickly kissed your lips back.

“Sure…” he hummed and finally opened his eyes and met your adoring gaze.

“We’re going again later, right?” You asked and he laughed for a moment before kissing you again and nodding.

“Oh absolutely. I might not be able to walk but it’ll be worth it.” He mumbled into your kiss-swollen lips.

“God…but good.” You giggled, completely satisfied with his response.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.” He whispered and you glanced away bashfully and instead focused on the swallow tattooed over his left pectoral.

“Neither do I.” You admitted and he smiled as you leaned closer and buried your face into the crook of his neck and took a deep inhale before placing a kiss at the base of his throat. 

There was only one thought at the forefront of his mind right now and it was that there was absolutely no world in which this didn’t end with him falling absolutely and hopelessly in love with you. He loved everything about you and what he’d seen of your life so far, he couldn’t wait to experience it for the rest of the days he’d be here with you.

Several Days Later…

You didn’t want to verbalize just how perfect the last several days had been with Harry in case you were to jinx it, but you were certainly thinking about it with each passing minute. You had clients that day so you had to leave Harry at your place for but it was  so lovely to return to a clean home and a meal. As soon as you walked in you could smell the lingering fresh scent of cleaning products but were mostly overpowered by what you were kind of hoping was a bolognese sauce. Thankfully, you were able to make off from your last client with a little extra dessert, so you had something to contribute for tonight.

“Smell’s amazing!” You announced your arrival as you slipped out of your shoes. 

Harry didn’t respond so you figured he was in the shower or something. And as you walked further in you saw that the table was set and two long stick candles were lit, giving the setting a more intimate feel. You bit your lip to hold back your excitement. It was your last night together, so you weren’t surprised that Harry was pulling out all the stops until the next time you got to be together. You headed towards your bedroom to change into a fresh and more comfortable outfit and when you stepped inside you saw Harry just standing at the window and glancing out towards the busy street below.

“Harry?” You called in question and he sniffled and turned around. 

“Sorry, I was trying to collect myself-”

“What happened? What’s wrong?” You asked quickly as you let your purse drop to the floor and rushed over to him.

“Your mom called,” he said and you immediately though the worst, your heart dropped, “Julie told them that she’s pregnant.” He said and you stopped right before you reached him. Not as terrifying as you thought but still incredibly fucking awful. Your features furrowed in disappointment and your stomach turned as the information processed. Harry hurried over to you, “Baby, it’s not me. It couldn’t be, we haven’t slept together since like August!” He explained and you nodded and let him take your hands. “But they don’t know that.”

“Ask for a paternity test.” You said right away.

“I will.” He assured you. “I guess she said she wasn’t feeling well so your mom drove her to the urgent care and they found out. Your mom called me all excited about it… I just don’t want to humiliate her.” He explained.

“And that’s very noble and considerate of you, Harry. But you do realize that she’s trying to put you in an impossible position.” You said and he frowned. “You deserve to do this. To have a family on your own terms, Harry.” You said and he nodded.

“I-I don’t even know what to do about this.” He stammered, still in shock.

“This is going to sound awful but…tell your lawyer.” You said and he sighed. “She’s willing to force you into this situation when you had nothing to do with it. If she has to prove paternity she will have to be honest. She loves Joey and she did this with him, they need to figure this out together.”

“You’re right.” He conceded. “Ummm… I’m not feeling too hungry any more. I’m sorry.” He said and glanced down at the floor.

“That’s alright. I understand.” You assured him. “I also understand if you…need some space.” You said and he glanced into your eyes again.

“Yeah… I ummm…I should go.” He said and you nodded, “They’re expecting me to look after her since she isn’t feeling well. And the drive’ll help, I think.” He muttered, but he was quite absent.

“Okay.” You said softly and he just walked around you and into your closet to grab his suitcase. You just watched silently as he robotically and haphazardly just dumped his things into the luggage before shutting it and wheeling it out. You followed after him as he headed to the entrance and slipped into his sneakers. 

“Harry.” You said and he glanced up at you. You could see his eyes welled up with tears. “Please be safe.” You said and he nodded before rushing out. As soon as the door shut your own tears started to trickle down your face. 

You were relieved when he texted you that he’d gotten home and assured him that if he needed to talk at all that you’d be there for him. But you felt so angry at your sister for this one. How could she do this to him? It was awful and selfish behavior. You wanted to call her but this wasn’t your battle to fight.

Harry’s POV:

Harry felt completely blindsided by Isabel’s phone call about Julie. He felt sick to his stomach as he parked in the garage because Isabel was still at their house, her car was up front and he had no idea how he would swallow down all that devastation and dread he was feeling. He didn’t want to ruin Isabel’s excitement but pretending that he was happy about this…having to hold and kiss Julie, congratulate her for something he had nothing to do with, it made him sick to his stomach. He texted you to let you know that he’d made it safely and you immediately loved his message and with that he made it inside. 

“Oh good! You’re home!” Isabel greeted him excitedly as soon as Harry made it inside from the garage. He put on a smile and nodded, approaching her to greet her. 

“Yeah, sorry it took me a while. I was out in LA.” He explained.

“No problem, as long as you made it safe!” She said as she opened her arms and he ducked down a bit to hug her and kiss her cheek. “Congrats, mijo.” She hummed happily as she gave him a firm squeeze.

“Thank you.” He responded as they pulled away slowly.

“I’m just making her some ginger tea, she’s been very nauseous.” Isabel explained.

“Thank you, I’m gonna go see her now.”

“Yes, please!” She insisted, beaming from ear to ear and he smiled and made his way out of the kitchen. 

Every step he took up towards the bedroom made him even more sick to his stomach. He hoped there was extra of that ginger tea because this was getting to be too much. When he made it to the top landing he saw the bedroom door open and he made his way over to see Julie scrolling through her phone. 

“Hey.” She greeted him solemnly.

“Hi.” He said quite cooly.

“Look-”

“What the fuck is the matter with you?” He cut her off and she frowned.

“Not while my mom is here, Harry.” She sighed.

“No. We’re doing this right now.” He insisted as he pushed the door back leaving it slightly ajar.

“Then close it all the way.” She said.

“Then we won’t hear her coming. I won’t raise my voice if you don’t.” He said and she sighed. “There is no way you didn’t know.” He insisted, “When did you find out?” 

“On Monday.” She said, “I missed my period last week and I took two tests on Monday. One positive and the other inconclusive. Sometimes it can be stress or other things that impact so I figured I should go and find out.”

“And you had to take your mom to do that?”

“I was scared!” She defended herself.

“Then you should’ve asked Joe.” He retorted.

“I didn’t want him to freak out!”

“But you’re okay with your mom thinking that I got you pregnant?!” He asked angrily and her eyes started welling up. “You have to tell your parents now, Julie.” He said.

“Harry, please-”

“No! I’m not going to take responsibility for this!”

“And what if he leaves me?” She asked and Harry’s eyes softened for a moment.

“I-I don’t know but you have been cheating on me for months! We haven’t slept together since last year! This has nothing to do with me, Julie!” He was trying not to raise his voice but he was so hurt and angry at her. “You don’t love me and I know for a fact you don’t want this with me.” Harry finished and she started to sniffle as her tears fell. “You have to tell your family the truth!” He urged.

“Do you know how humiliating that will be!?”

“If you had agreed to the divorce when I brought it up not as much as it might be now! If you don’t come clean to your parents about this I will involve my lawyer and demand a paternity test! And we both know what the result will be.”

“I need more time.” She said softly.

“You have until the end of the month.”

“Harry-”

“You tell them or I do.” He said sternly.

Isabel’s POV:

She hadn’t meant to eaves drop, she just wanted to come ask Julie if she would want some toast with her tea to settle her stomach when she heard the hushed argument.

“Harry, please-”

“No! I’m not going to take responsibility for this!” She heard Harry respond. She almost intervened when she heard this, feeling so much anger rising up in her at the sound of her son-in-law being so disinterested and cold after finding out he would be a father!

“And what if he leaves me?” Julie asked and she stopped from reaching for the door. She was momentarily frozen in shock as she processed Julie’s concern.

“I-I don’t know but you have been cheating on me for months! We haven’t slept together since last year! This has nothing to do with me, Julie!”

Isabel could hear it in his voice that he felt bad but if this was not his child, he truly had no obligation to her. Especially if she had been having an affair for who knows how long.

“You don’t love me and I know for a fact you don’t want this with me.” Harry added. “You have to tell your family the truth!” 

“Do you know how humiliating that will be!?” Julie cried quietly and Isabel frowned and started to back away, hearing faintly about previous discussions of a divorce. This was very private and she had heard more than she probably should have. 

She was completely taken by surprise and immediately felt so bad for Harry and the situation that she had unintentionally put him in. She could only imagine how devastated he felt knowing that his wife was pregnant with another man’s child. A man that might not even stick around to help her or support her with this. Obviously she would always love her daughter, but it didn’t mean that she would always support her choices and this choice…to have an extramarital affair. To not grant Harry the divorce he had seemingly asked for before when she didn’t even love him anymore. The gall to ask him to stick around if the other man didn’t… it did not sit well with her and made her feel so frustrated at her. She hoped that Julie would say something soon because there was no way she could keep quiet for too long. Harry had been so good to all of them and he did not deserve that.

FINAL PART...

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[animatewarriorcats]

Yarrowleaf! She is Daughter to Scorchfur and Snowbird, of their second litter, sister to Beenose and Bluebellkit. Yarrowleaf is a bit of an interesting background character, in the first three books of AVOS her characterization seems to bend to what the plot needs, whether that's being a petulant apprentice, a young but loyal shadowclan warrior, or a defiant member of the kin. She earns her Shadowclan warrior name before the Kin take over, and once they do she appears to be kin loyal to Darktails death. In River of Fire she reappears very pregnant alongside Sleekwhisker to beg sanctuary from Skyclan. Violetpaw remembers her as being one of Darktails closest followers, and Leafstar banishes both she-cats to their connection to the rogue. This event expedites the erosion of the Shadowclan Skyclan alliance, and even though the two she cats are allowed back in to skyclan for Yarrowleaf's kits to be delivered, the offer is only temporary. Ultimately Sleekwhisker betrays Yarrowleaf and steals her kits flaxkit and hopkit in return for Nettle's alliance to kill Rowanstar's as revenge for the sleek's damaged youth because the Shadowclan leader had failed to drive out Darktail before he could destroy shadowclan. In the end, Yarrowleaf is allowed to stay in Shadowclan when Tigerstar returns to revive the clan. She has some minor appearances in the Broken Code arc, most notably as first a supporter of atonement with the comment that "leaders should lead" to Tigerstar during the gathering where the imposter confronts him about dovewing, but later she is even more fiercely a proponent for killing the captured Thunderclan leader, saying that healing his body was '"just helping a dead cat walk around in his fur". In Starless clan so far she has been a minor background character, but notably joins the Shadowclan faction against clan switching which is led by her sister Berryheart.

Her coloration is described as Ginger, but even if Snowbird were a solid ginger under a dominant white masking gene (she's not, see Berryheart and Cloverfoot), Yarrowleaf would have to inherit a non-orange color gene from her father Scorchfur. I decided to make her a silver tabico, with a high level of red prevelance, not unlike these cats:

[kissboybyler]

it gets to me so much sometimes when i think that, in whichever fandom, the GA or just most people tend to ship two characters just because they are canon. Like mike and el, for instance, they are canon, they have kissing scenes and they dance at the ball and they…hug?! But what do they even talk about? What’s the music playing in the background? What’s the context of their interactions? Why, why do they love each other? Do they make each other better, do they find missing parts of themselves in the form of another person? Are there hints and tells and color-codes that just…exist to symbolise their love?

Why do we ship these characters? What’s is it about their love that is so strong? And don’t get me wrong, i also believe -like many other bylers/ fans of the show- that mike and el grew to love each other, to appreciate and kind of need each other. But not for the right reasons.

I mean, mike needs to be needed, to be able to help or even save another person, to feel loved and wanted. But he also needs to allow himself to be who he is, outside of “forced conformity” (“that’s what’s killing the kids” after all!)

El, on the other hand, needs to find who she is, but firstly she needs to have a safe place where she is allowed to kind of just exist and then blossom into her true self. And bumping into mike, who eventually grew to appreciate and embrace her, she felt safe for the first time. And alongside her, mike felt needed, like he could protect her and be there for her and make her happy.

But now el, who has established both meaningful familial relationships and friendships, needs to find out who she is. How can we expect her to grow when she’s in a relationship with the first person she met right after she broke out of the lab (her literal prison), who can’t even talk about any other part of her that he loves other than her powers?

And i’ve read many many other people write about this, about how in s4, when mike wasn’t with el he embraced his geeky, nerdy and weird self but when he finally reunited with el, he had to hide himself from her (as did she!). He just…couldn’t be himself around her.

But like, apart from the problems in their relationship, i really just don’t understand why people ship them. It’s just…mike cant be himself around el and el doesn’t have room to find herself when she’s with mike. It literally doesn’t make any mathematical sense.

And then they say we’re delusional for thinking, for proving, that there are astronomically higher chances for these two not to be endgame, for el to be single and for mike and will to get together. Because it makes sense…right? Like, el will be able to find herself outside of a relationship, she won’t be dictated by anyone but her own self, and mike and will… do i really have to elaborate? Like, in every single aspect of stranger things, from musical titles and colour-codes, parallels and loving, longing stares, hand touches, over-protectiveness, deep and meaningful understanding to posters and freaking funko-pops, interviews and good ol’ fashioned cinematography and storytelling… it all points to them, if you connect the dots.

And how, how is it possible that so many dots have been put into such perfect places, to make such a beautifully crafted imagery, just for all of this to be a coincidence? When, when has anything ever in stranger things been coincidental? Ever?

Edit: I’d just like to denote that, when i said “(mike) can’t even talk about any other part of her that he loves other than her powers” i didn’t mean that mike loves el JUST because she has powers, fuck no, BUT when the time was right for him to note all of the other aspects of her character that make her a remarkable person (ex. her selflessness, her compassion), he decided to focus on her powers. The very thing that she herself thought dictated her.

just wanted to make that super clear.

[andy-15-07]

Hii! Could you please write a pedro x reader on their first date? How nervous he is? Maybe the reader is his sister's friend's and she set them up on a blind date because she knew Pedro felt something for the reader, he's scared she wouldn't love him back. Reader thinks she's seeing Pedro's sister for dinner and so does Pedro but once at the restaurant they meet.

Maybe his sister will seat a few tables far from them to keep an eye on them realizing how happy Pedro looks around the reader

Blind Date

PAIRING:Pedro Pascal x reader

WORD COUNT: 3568| requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

It started as an ordinary evening for Pedro, yet one that felt strangely electric from the very beginning. Standing outside a modest but charming restaurant in the heart of the city, Pedro’s heart was pounding as if it wanted to leap out of his chest. He tugged at the collar of his shirt for what felt like the hundredth time, trying to steady his nerves. Tonight, he was expecting to meet his sister for dinner—a casual get-together arranged by her. But as he fumbled with the door, he couldn’t help but feel that fate had something else in store.

A few minutes later, the restaurant door swung open, and Y/N walked in. Pedro’s breath caught in his throat. She looked radiant, her smile both warm and inviting. For a split second, he forgot all his nervous energy. Y/N, too, scanned the room, expecting to see the familiar face of Pedro’s sister. Instead, her eyes met his. Confusion danced in her gaze.

“Pedro?” she asked softly, a mix of surprise and amusement in her tone. “I thought I was meeting your sister.”

Pedro managed a shaky laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “I—I was expecting her, too. Seems we’re both in for a surprise tonight.”

Their laughter mingled in the cozy atmosphere as a waiter led them to a small, intimate table near a window. Little did they know, a few tables away, Pedro’s sister had positioned herself perfectly, a discreet observer with a proud, knowing smile. Her eyes sparkled as she watched the first sparks between them—an outcome she’d orchestrated with gentle meddling over the past few days.

Once seated, the conversation started slowly, each of them testing the waters of this unexpected encounter. Pedro began hesitantly, “So, Y/N, how have you been lately? I never imagined a dinner planned as a casual catch-up would turn into… this.”

Y/N’s eyes glimmered with amusement. “I honestly thought I was just meeting your sister for a friendly dinner. But I have to say, sitting here with you is a pleasant shock.” She leaned in slightly, her tone teasing. “You’ve heard the stories about me, right? The ones that make me sound like some adventure seeker?”

Pedro grinned, his earlier tension easing as he found his voice. “Well, I might have heard a few tall tales. But tonight, I want to learn the real you. And if you’re as captivating in person as you are in those stories… then I’m in trouble.” His hand moved to gesture passionately, and for a moment, his fingers brushed hers. The contact was fleeting but electric, sending a ripple of warmth through both of them.

As the evening progressed, the conversation deepened. They talked about everything from their favorite movies to the little quirks that made them who they were. Every so often, they found themselves laughing so hard that the rest of the room seemed to disappear. Pedro admitted quietly, “I’m not usually this nervous. I’ve always been confident in my work, in front of cameras, but when it comes to matters of the heart… I freeze.”

Y/N smiled, her eyes softening with understanding. “I get that. I’ve been hurt before, and sometimes I build walls. But sometimes, a moment comes along and you realize that you’re willing to take a risk, no matter how scary it might be.”

Their dialogue was filled with both laughter and moments of quiet vulnerability. The soft music in the background and the gentle clink of glasses created a cocoon around them, making every word feel intimate. As they exchanged playful banter, Pedro’s hand slowly inched toward hers again, and this time, she didn’t pull away. Instead, she intertwined her fingers with his, a small but significant act of trust and hope.

“Y/N,” Pedro murmured, his voice low as he leaned in closer, “I have to confess—I’ve been harboring feelings I didn’t even know how to name until tonight. I’m terrified that if you don’t feel the same, I’ll lose a chance at something real. But I can’t ignore this pull I feel when I’m with you.”

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly as she searched his face, as if trying to read the sincerity in his gaze. “Pedro, I—I never expected this. Honestly, I was under the impression I’d be dining with your sister, but sometimes, the most unexpected moments turn out to be the best ones. I feel something too… something I can’t quite put into words.”

A pause fell over them as they both absorbed the weight of his admission. Outside, a light rain began to fall, the soft patter on the window adding a rhythmic cadence to their confessions. The restaurant’s ambiance transformed into a cocoon of gentle intimacy, and it wasn’t long before the conversation shifted from words to actions.

As dessert was served—a rich, decadent chocolate cake—their flirtatious banter grew bolder. Y/N laughed softly when Pedro joked, “I think I need another piece of dessert, not just because the cake is incredible, but because your company is absolutely irresistible.” Her laughter was musical, and Pedro couldn’t help but reach out, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from her face.

“Do you always charm people this effortlessly, Pedro?” she teased, her tone light yet charged with something more profound.

“Only when I’m with someone who inspires me,” he replied, his eyes locked on hers. Their gazes held a silent promise, and the space between them seemed to shrink until their hands rested side by side on the table, warm and reassuring.

At that moment, Pedro’s sister glanced over from her table, a quiet smile playing on her lips. She knew that every nerve-wracked moment, every hesitant touch, was leading to something beautiful. Even though she was miles away emotionally from their growing intimacy, she couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride for her brother, who had finally allowed himself to be vulnerable.

“Y/N,” Pedro said, his voice barely above a whisper as he leaned closer, “I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve spent so long wondering if I’d ever find someone who sees the real me—the person behind the public façade. Tonight, you’ve made me feel… free.”

“Pedro,” Y/N responded, her hand squeezing his gently, “I feel the same way. I’m scared, sure—scared of getting hurt again—but I’m also excited by what this could mean. Tonight feels like the start of something that might just change both our lives.”

Their conversation was punctuated by long pauses filled with shared glances and soft smiles. The tension between them grew palpable, the air thick with the promise of more than just words. Pedro’s gaze dropped to her lips, and without thinking, he leaned forward. Their lips met in a kiss that was both tentative and fierce—a collision of pent-up emotions and the joy of finally being understood.

The kiss deepened as if time had slowed. Y/N’s hands slid up to rest on Pedro’s shoulders while his fingers caressed the side of her face, drawing her closer. The restaurant, the mistaken expectations, the night’s surprises—all faded into the background. All that remained was the fierce, undeniable connection between them. When they finally pulled apart, both were breathing heavily, their foreheads resting together in a tender, shared moment.

“I’ve dreamed of this for so long,” Pedro murmured, his voice raw with emotion. “I was so scared you wouldn’t feel the same. But now, I can’t imagine not exploring this with you.”

Y/N’s eyes shimmered with sincerity as she replied, “I never thought a blind date would turn into something so incredible. I’m willing to take this risk, Pedro—if you are.”

With a shy smile and a newfound sense of daring, Pedro suggested they take a walk outside. “There’s a small park nearby—quiet and beautiful. I think it’s the perfect place to talk some more… and maybe steal a few more kisses under the stars.”

Hand in hand, they left the restaurant and stepped out into the cool, refreshing night. The gentle sound of rain had given way to a clear, starry sky, and as they walked along the lamp-lit path toward the park, their conversation turned from lighthearted to deeply personal. They shared stories of past heartaches, childhood dreams, and the little moments that had led them to this very moment. Every word was punctuated with laughter, thoughtful pauses, and touches that sent shivers down their spines.

“Have you ever felt like you’re just waiting for the right moment to come along?” Y/N asked as they strolled past a row of trees draped in the soft glow of street lamps.

Pedro nodded, his expression serious. “I always thought the right moment would never arrive until I stopped trying so hard. Tonight, though, with you by my side, I feel like I finally understand what it means to be truly alive.”

They reached a quiet clearing near a small fountain, the sound of trickling water blending with their soft conversation. Pedro paused and turned to face Y/N fully. “Y/N, I have to be honest—I've always been so afraid of rejection, of not being enough. But when I'm with you, I feel like I can be vulnerable. I can be real.”

Y/N’s heart fluttered as she stepped closer. “Pedro, I understand that fear. I’ve worn my own armor for so long that letting someone in seemed like risking everything. But sometimes, the most beautiful moments come from those very risks.”

Their eyes locked in a silent dialogue, the honesty in Pedro’s admission resonating with Y/N’s own guarded hopes. The air between them seemed charged, and as if on cue, Pedro reached out and brushed his thumb along her cheek. “I need you to know that I’m willing to risk it all—if you are.”

Y/N smiled softly, her voice barely a whisper. “I’m ready, Pedro. I want to see where this leads us—no matter how scary it might be.”

Their words hung in the air as Pedro slowly leaned in once more. This time, the kiss was slow and deliberate—a reaffirmation of their commitment to explore every moment, every spark of passion that had ignited between them. Y/N’s fingers threaded through his hair, and he, in turn, held her tightly, as if trying to imprint this moment into memory. The intensity of their connection grew as their kisses deepened, each touch speaking of trust, desire, and the promise of something enduring.

After a while, they broke apart to catch their breath, both smiling at the raw honesty of the moment. Pedro’s eyes danced with a mixture of relief and longing. “I can’t believe how natural this feels. I’ve always imagined love as a series of scripted scenes—but this, this is the best kind of unscripted magic.”

Y/N laughed softly, wiping a stray tear of joy from her cheek. “Sometimes the best things in life are the unexpected ones, Pedro. I never expected tonight to turn out like this, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

They resumed their walk, the park enveloping them in a quiet intimacy. With each step, they discovered new facets of each other—stories of past adventures, dreams of future possibilities, and moments of vulnerability that only served to strengthen their bond. As the night deepened and the park grew quieter, they found a secluded bench beneath a canopy of trees. There, beneath the soft light of a flickering lamp, Pedro pulled Y/N into a close embrace, whispering, “I’ve been so scared for so long, but with you, I feel brave enough to face anything.”

Y/N nestled closer, her head resting on his shoulder. “Pedro, I’ve always believed that true connection is worth any risk. Tonight, you’ve shown me that vulnerability can be beautiful—and that love, when it comes unexpectedly, is the best kind of adventure.”

They sat together for what felt like hours, the night holding them in its tender embrace. When it was finally time to part ways, the reluctance in their goodbyes was palpable. At Y/N’s door, standing in the dim light, Pedro’s hand trembled slightly as he reached for hers one last time. “I don’t want this night to end, Y/N. I want every moment with you to be as magical as tonight.”

Y/N’s eyes shone with unsaid promises as she replied, “Neither do I, Pedro. I want to keep exploring this connection, to see where every unexpected twist takes us.”

Their final kiss at her doorstep was slow, lingering, and full of hope—an unspoken vow to return to one another again and again. The night had been a tapestry of surprises and bold actions—a reminder that sometimes, the best love stories begin with a little chaos and a lot of courage.

The next day, the echoes of their magical night lingered in every text message and phone call. Pedro’s sister, always quietly watching from the sidelines, sent a playful note to both of them: “So happy to see that your ‘sister’s dinner’ turned out to be so much more. I knew you two had it in you!” Her message brought a smile to Pedro’s face and a blush to Y/N’s cheeks, sealing the memory as something fated.

Over the following weeks, every encounter was infused with the passion and playfulness of that first night. On a crisp autumn afternoon, Pedro invited Y/N for a walk in the park where golden leaves danced in the wind. Their conversation was a blend of teasing remarks and deep confessions.

“I still can’t get over the fact that we thought we were meeting my sister,” Y/N mused as they walked along a path carpeted with fallen leaves. “I mean, look at us now—laughing like old friends and stealing moments that feel too perfect to be true.”

Pedro squeezed her hand gently. “Life is full of surprises. I once thought I had everything figured out, but tonight taught me that the best plans are the ones you never planned at all. I’m so glad I took that leap.”

They found a quiet spot by a small pond, the water shimmering under the late afternoon sun. Sitting side by side on the grass, Pedro recounted stories from his travels and early days in the spotlight—stories that revealed a man behind the public persona. Y/N listened intently, occasionally interrupting with a laugh or a teasing comment. Each word built a bridge between them, a deeper understanding that went beyond surface charm.

“Do you remember when I told you I was afraid of not being enough?” Pedro asked quietly, gazing at the ripples on the water. “Well, every time I see you, I feel like maybe I don’t have to be perfect. I can just be me.”

Y/N’s eyes softened, and she turned to him with genuine warmth. “Pedro, you don’t need to be anyone but yourself. I love the way you’re passionate, the way you care, and yes—even the little quirks that make you so uniquely you. I’ve been holding onto this feeling ever since that first night, and every day it grows a little more.”

Their conversation was filled with laughter, playful teasing, and moments of profound honesty. With every word and every touch, the distance between them shrank until it was nothing more than a shared heartbeat.

That evening, as the sky turned a deep shade of twilight, Pedro invited Y/N to his apartment for a quiet dinner. The space was cozy, filled with soft music and the aroma of a meal Pedro had prepared with care. They sat on a plush couch, a single candle flickering between them, and continued their conversation as if time had slowed down just for them.

“I’ve never felt so at home with someone,” Pedro said, his voice low and sincere. “With you, everything feels right—like every worry, every fear, just melts away.”

Y/N reached up and caressed his cheek tenderly. “Pedro, you make me feel safe. I’ve always been so guarded, but you’ve shown me that vulnerability isn’t something to fear—it’s something that brings us closer.”

Their dialogue became a mix of laughter, soft confessions, and moments of undeniable passion. Pedro’s hand moved from her cheek to the small of her back as he drew her closer. Their kisses grew bolder, each one more fervent than the last, a celebration of the spark that had been ignited from that first fateful encounter.

In the quiet intimacy of that apartment, they discovered more about each other—more than just dreams and fears, but the physical language of love that needed no words. Y/N’s laughter, the way her eyes lit up when Pedro whispered something tender, and the spark in their every embrace confirmed what they both felt deep down: this was the start of something extraordinary.

Days turned into weeks, and every moment spent together was a new adventure. Pedro’s sister continued to be a cheerful presence in the background—occasionally joining them for dinner or sending cheeky texts that reminded them of the night it all began. And with each passing encounter, the passion between Pedro and Y/N grew, becoming a blend of playful banter and intense physical closeness that neither wanted to hide.

One cool, starry night, the two found themselves on a moonlit balcony. Pedro wrapped a warm blanket around them as they gazed up at the sky, lost in a conversation about their favorite memories and what they hoped the future might bring. “I always thought I’d be alone in all this chaos,” Pedro admitted, his voice husky with emotion. “But now, I know that sometimes, the chaos leads you to something beautiful.”

Y/N’s hand found his, and she smiled softly. “And sometimes, the best love stories are the ones that are messy, unexpected, and real.”

Their dialogue was interwoven with touches, laughter, and the quiet assurance that every moment together was a testament to their growing love. The intensity of their connection was not only in the passionate kisses or the physical closeness—it was in every shared secret, every whispered dream, every promise made in the quiet hours of the night.

In the days that followed, the couple continued to explore the many facets of their relationship. Whether it was dancing in the living room to their favorite songs, taking spontaneous trips to quiet cafes, or simply spending a lazy afternoon lost in conversation on a park bench, every moment was filled with the thrill of discovery. They learned each other’s favorite jokes, the way each smiled when they were lost in thought, and the subtle language of touch that said more than words ever could.

One afternoon, while walking hand in hand down a bustling city street, Y/N teased Pedro, “I never imagined that a case of mistaken dinner plans could lead to something so… kinetic.” Pedro laughed, his eyes alight with mischief. “I could say the same. I’m beginning to think your sister has impeccable taste in setting up opportunities.”

They laughed together, and as the day wore on, they stopped in a quiet alleyway to share a spontaneous kiss that was both playful and filled with longing. “I want every moment like this,” Y/N whispered as they pulled apart, their foreheads touching. “I want to be in every unexpected second of our story.”

Pedro nodded, his voice soft and determined. “I promise, Y/N—no matter what uncertainties lie ahead, I’m going to cherish every heartbeat we share.”

That promise, made amid the vibrant hum of the city, would become the cornerstone of their relationship—a testament to the bravery it took to embrace the unknown and trust that love, in all its messy, beautiful glory, was worth every risk.

And so, as the seasons changed and the chapters of their lives unfolded, Pedro and Y/N found that each day was a new opportunity to write another page of their story. A story that began with mistaken assumptions and a blind dinner setup, but which blossomed into a passionate, dynamic love filled with laughter, intimacy, and a series of bold, unforgettable moments.

Whether sharing a spontaneous kiss in the rain, a heartfelt conversation in the quiet of a late night, or the playful touch that conveyed volumes without a single word, they learned that love wasn’t about grand declarations alone—it was about the everyday acts of courage that transformed ordinary moments into something magical.

In the soft glow of morning light, as they said goodbye for the day and promised to meet again soon, each parting was filled with the anticipation of a reunion. Every message, every call, and every smile reinforced that their unexpected meeting was not an accident but a sign that sometimes, the universe conspires to bring two people together in the most spectacular way.

And as Pedro’s sister would later say with a knowing wink, “Sometimes, all it takes is a little meddling from those who care to see you truly shine.” For Pedro and Y/N, that meddling had led to an adventure of passion, honesty, and the kind of love that fills every moment with the promise of something greater.

So here they were—two souls who had met by chance, who had laughed, kissed, and bared their hearts in the quiet moments of a long, unforgettable night. Together, they faced the uncertainties of tomorrow with a shared determination: to embrace every risk, every unexpected twist, and every burst of passion that made life so incredibly worth living.

And with every heartbeat that echoed their newfound hope, Pedro and Y/N continued writing their story—a story of laughter, passion, and the kind of bold, fearless love that lights up even the darkest of nights.

[arcane-ish]

@sorceressofthesky

I hope it's okay that I pull this out as the threads can have a tendency to get very long :)

Personally, I find it super hard to buy that that Silco was the one who talked Caitlyn's mom into building the ventilation systems after he took over from Vander.

Part of it is: if Silco was that good at talking to the council and getting them to do pro-Zaun things, why would he stop talking to them? Especially since season 1 shows how easily the council can be swayed into granting Zaun independence. I always read it as Silco not being interested in the council and not paying much attention to it, maybe because he has a low opinion of it. If he was already that involved with the council in the past, it just seems like big events from Jayce becoming a councilor, Heimerdinger being ousted or the Piltover reaction to the bridge massacre would be something he would show more interest in then he does.

The other part of it is that the Kiramman vents just … feel older? From the pathos of Caitlyn being handed the Kiramman key like it's a family tradition to the picture that presumably show the vents being opened. Either by a young Cassandra or by some even older ancestor. It just seems like if the vents were being built not just within Caitlyn's lifetime but also while Caitlyn is already pretty grown, it just seems like that would have come up?

The women is opening the vents together with miners in the background, evoking more the young Silco and Vander era.

And she's wearing the same or a very similar outfit to the portrait in the middle which is why people think either very young Cassandra or Cassandra's mother.

I'm not sure if I find the idea that Cassandra wouldn't know about the plight of the undercity just because a very sheltered girl like Caitlyn didn't know all that plausible. We know she is sheltered because Cassandra even ordered for her to do boring prestige guard duty rather than even encounter just crime in Piltover. So if she has never been to the undercity and the papers don't write about it, how would she know?

And while the Pilties maybe are unlikely to casually care about the plight of the Zaunites, árguably them caring if it impacts their business is well in character (there's this really cool WIP by @out-there-tmblr that is just doing a plot about how the mines dug to deep, the Gray is getting worse so miners are start refusing to work those particular shafts so the Piltie engineers are coming in to install vents that imo feels plausible in "that's what Pilties would do" way).

And again, if Silco was responsible for it, why wouldn't he show up in those pictures compared to the Kiramman woman posing with miners? (it doesn't help that modern Zaun feels like it's more about factories than about mines)

So yes, I definitely leaning towards the vents being older based on the look of the Kiramman woman. But it being done within Vander and Silco's youth I think is an interesting idea.

I personally find it generally confusing how bad the air situation is. Yes the enforcers wear masks in Act 1, but none of the locals do. Then we have the sumps. The implications are that the sumps are low and "the bad parts" right?

So a headcanon could be something like:

Silco and Vander and some of the chem barons are young => The Gray is bad.

Cassandra installs the vents => air quality gets better. Maybe sections that weren't livable before are livable now.

Silco and Vander take their mining knowledge and maybe carve a middle section, somewhere between the upper levels that are already lived in by people and maybe too expensive and the sump that is still dark and shitty to live in.

There being more air systems in Silco's time could be advances in technology or it could be the factories causing a new, different type of pollution?

(an interesting facette here is the AU where the air is clearly much better but the implication is that it's done with more plant/nature based technology rather than more chemtechy one)

[complete side note, due to the 3 years Heimer has been there my head canon for the AU is that Silco and Vander reunited over Vi's death, together they made political advacements and that after a while in Heimer arrives and gave them a boost in regards to technology]

Silco saying to the chem barons he brought them up and gave them "a taste of topside" could also be explained by

the literally moved them from the lower levels to the higher levels (either by moving them to the lanes or by making them so rich that they can live even in the areas above the Lanes, just like their meeting tower is very high up even while Silco is the one who stil lives far down) after Vander was killed because they for some reason were stuck down there

or all people that lived lower moved to the Lanes when Silco and Vander "built the lanes".

or maybe a young Silco was among the miners that convinced the Kiramann's to build the vents

Finn's line is interesting, because it doesn't sound like Silco pulled him from the mines/depths. It sounds more like he was around during Vander's time watching from the sidelines and not liking how Vander was doign things. As opposed to he lived elsewhere and was lifted up.

But he also looks a bit younger, so he has a different backstory than the others (but there's generally the problem that I think the Caitlyn files said that at least one chembaron is actually a Piltie, so wouldn't at least that guy have a different backstory than the other chem barons? so when he's giving his speech to the chem barons there's at least two people in the room to whom that speech doesn't really apply?) . After all we have the "You're too young to remember

what the undercity was before it became an "enterprise"."

So this exchange suggests:

there was a time where the Undercity was a lot more primitive and Vander does remember it but Finn is too young

but already under Vander the undercity became more like an enterprise (maybe because Vander and Silco turned the Lanes into a more smuggling/trade based economy rather than a mining/producing based one, or maybe also because of the protection money) at least in Finn's eyes, or at least he thought it had the potential to be one if run better

Another thing I find confusing is okay, so there's the region where the shimmer addicts live, right? And the implication to me was that is the bad part of Zaun? The part where the air is bad, where the lowest of the low live, that's why Jesus!Viktor goes there to make his commune.

But according to season 1, this is where Vi, Powder, Connel and Felicia lived. Ie the place where presumably all the fluffy Powder and Vi as kids memories from the Remember Me flashback take place. At first I thought maybe that place was like just a shack where maybe they just played and Felicia made the height charts, but it looks like a comparatively nice house with a staircase and ornaments?

Again, if this the shitty place of the Undercity, why would Vander and Silco's cherished friend live there when the Last Drop was available?

Benzo talks to Vander about "rounding up the collections",

Yes, just like Sevika talks about doing the same for Silco in season 2.

IMO both Silco and Vander were taking protection money. I personally think that they both can be seen as as a system of proto-taxes and it's more a question whether people got anything back from it. Maybe that's a reason why Vander seemed to be more popular with the people, if people saw it more as Vander building up infrastructure/houses for them while with Silco the money goes more towards building up factories or making weapons. (with factories likely being useful infrastructure as well, but maybe people don't see it because it's more indirect).

But that's kind of an interesting question in itself: What does Vander spend his money on? He seems to be living a well enough maybe "middle-class-y" lifestyle with his kids, but Vi certainly doesn't feel rich, hence her rants about how they have nothing compared to Pilties.

I would presume he has an income from the bar. So if he the bar money and the collection money, was is the money being spent on? Paying the guys who do the collections? Maybe they serve as guards/police against those unwanted elements that according to Jinx's season 2 line started fighting as soon as Vander was gone? But if Vander has like organized supporters, why on earth did Vi think it was a good idea to collect her kid brothers as support to spring Vander free from Silco rather than fetch whatever remaining allies Vander might have had? Or at the "guys" Benzo speaks off more like loose contractors, maybe not even particularly powerful people and people pay their taxes just out of fear of Vander?

(I have played around with the idea that maybe Vander spends the collections on more charitable things like families in need (and Silco is more the "I will build a factory that gives you employment so you can make your own money" guy) and that's why people remember him fondly. But with the whole "build the lanes" thing, maybe there's a chance that there are still building projects/they are still expanding? I think a big thing with the whole "building the lanes" in an engineering way that I just don't pictured neither Vander not Silco as that much of a construction/engineering guy, but who knows. Maybe just Zaunite ingenuity again)

[sturniololuvz]

Can you do a really angsty sister fic but with a cute ending but it’s very angsty

yesss! here ya go!

“Unnoticed”

Sturniolos x sister

Warnings : none rlly.

Y/N had always been the odd one out.

She knew her brothers loved her—of course, they did. But love and attention weren’t the same things, and lately, it felt like she had been completely erased from their world.

Chris, Matt, and Nick had each other. They always had. Three inseparable pieces of the same puzzle. And Y/N? She was just the extra. The fourth wheel in a group that never needed one.

At first, she tried to brush it off. They were busy, that was all. Filming, traveling, editing, working on their brand. She told herself it wasn’t personal.

But then the missed dinners started.

Then the unanswered texts.

Then the times she walked into a room only for them to leave moments later, too wrapped up in their own lives to notice her standing there, screaming on the inside.

She stopped trying.

If she didn’t reach out, would they?

If she didn’t show up, would they even notice?

Days turned into weeks, and it became painfully clear that the answer was no.

The final straw came on a night that should have been normal. She had been in her room for hours, curled up in bed, feeling the weight of her own insignificance pressing down on her chest. She wasn’t crying—she was past that.

Then she heard them downstairs, laughing. Loud, carefree, completely oblivious.

She checked her phone. Not a single message from any of them.

They were all together.

And she wasn’t even a thought in their heads.

Something inside her snapped.

She grabbed her jacket and slipped out the front door without bothering to text them. It wasn’t like they’d care.

It was cold. The wind stung her skin, but she barely felt it. Her legs carried her forward, away from the house, away from the suffocating loneliness that had settled in her bones.

She ended up at an empty park, sitting on the swings, her hands gripping the rusted chains as she stared blankly ahead.

She wanted to disappear.

Not in a dramatic way—she didn’t want to die or anything. She just wanted to stop existing in this way. Half-there. Half-seen. Half-loved.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, but she ignored it. Probably just some random notification.

But then it buzzed again. And again.

Frowning, she pulled it out.

Chris: Where are you?

Matt: Y/N, answer the phone.

Nick: Are you okay? Where’d you go?

A bitter laugh bubbled up in her throat. Now they noticed? Now they cared?

She stuffed the phone back in her pocket, ignoring the way her hands trembled.

Minutes passed. Maybe hours.

Then—footsteps. Rushed, frantic. And suddenly, all three of them were there, panting, their faces pale with worry.

Chris was the first to speak. “What the hell, Y/N?” His voice was sharp, but his eyes were soft. Scared. “You just left without saying anything!”

Y/N stared at them, expression blank. “You would’ve noticed eventually.”

Matt flinched. “Of course we would have—”

“Would you?” she interrupted, her voice cracking. “Because I don’t think you would’ve. I don’t think you would’ve even realized if I stayed in my room for days, or if I stopped coming home at all.”

Silence.

Nick took a shaky breath. “Y/N… that’s not true.”

“Yes, it is,” she whispered, feeling the lump in her throat grow. “I’m invisible to you guys. I’m just there—some extra piece that doesn’t fit. And you don’t even see me.”

Chris stepped forward, guilt written all over his face. “Y/N, we—”

She shook her head. “I used to be your sister. Now I’m just a background character in your lives.” Her voice broke on the last word, and she hated herself for it.

Matt looked like he wanted to argue, but he couldn’t. Because she was right.

And they all knew it.

Nick ran a hand over his face, looking like he was about to cry. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured. “We never meant to make you feel like this. We just—” He exhaled shakily. “We fucked up.”

Chris swallowed hard, his hands balling into fists. “You’re not invisible to us, Y/N.” His voice was thick with emotion. “You’re our sister. Our baby sister. And we love you more than anything. We just… we got so caught up in everything else that we didn’t realize we were pushing you away.”

Y/N wiped at her eyes, shaking her head. “I don’t need some guilt-driven apology.”

Matt stepped closer, his voice gentle. “We’re not just apologizing. We’re fixing this. Because you’re right—we haven’t been there for you. And that’s not okay.”

Nick nodded. “We miss you, Y/N. And we’re not letting this happen again.”

Chris hesitated for only a second before pulling her into a crushing hug, burying his face in her hair.

And for the first time in forever, she felt seen.

Matt and Nick wrapped their arms around them too, holding her tightly, as if afraid she’d slip away if they let go.

She sniffled. “You guys are so annoying.”

Chris chuckled, his voice muffled. “Yeah, but we’re your annoying brothers.”

A small, watery smile tugged at her lips. Maybe—just maybe—she wasn’t so invisible after all.

[gallowdancingmuck]

Analyzing W(e)yler Part Three:

This is a long one that focuses on Wednesday and her arc and is a little messy.

The thing that has really stuck with me since my first viewing is Morticia telling Wednesday “sometimes you get in your own way”. I think if any one line can summarize what Wednesday’s arc is all about, it is this one. Wednesday has all the brilliance she needs as well as resources to sail through life easily. I would even argue that Wednesday could fit in socially (because look how easily she made friends) but she constantly makes decisions that set her back. It could be argued it is her ego, but I genuinely think Wednesday does not think she’s better than everybody, I think she is genuinely very afraid of emotional hurt. She has been raised in a loving family and loyalty has been ingrained in her, the very worst thing that can happen to someone with this background is loss (and betrayal). I think what set Wednesday forth on this path of emotional detachment was Nero’s death.

Even if Nero is only meant to purely be a pet, imagine how traumatizing it would be to see your puppy or cat killed in front of you (she literally walked him on a leash). However I think Nero also acts as a symbol. Him being odd and a loyal pet is equivalent to her feelings towards her family, and then with him being a small scorpion he also represents innocence and outcasts. We have seen Wednesday is very protective of these things and I think she is so afraid of these things being ripped away from her she doesn’t know how to act. She’s setting herself back with this avoidance though because unfortunately, life is filled with loss. She either risks not having it all (lost potential) or losing it after she’s loved it (grief). She’s getting in the way of her own experience.

Wednesday is so caring and loyal that everybody sees it (Weems points it out in her office and Tyler/Hyde knows to mock her with his betrayal). Where she falters is she intellectualizes these feelings rather than work through them. In terms of Tyler, she does not hate him for being a murderer or a monster (she’s an Addams, she probably likes him more) she hates him (right now) for being a traitor and a liar. What we are going to hear her talk about is how he undermined her intelligence and then it’ll fall to him being weak, and then how it is unjust, and then eventually we will finally hit the core of this problem, Tyler hurt Wednesday’s feelings. Notice how she added a few superficial layers? Betrayal cannot exist without trust and I think Wednesday is going to take a long time to actually digest that fact, but she’s a smart girl, she knows that!

Looking at how she defends the underdog (Pugsley, Rowan, Eugene) Wednesday will say it’s because of what is fair. But in reality it's because she feels sympathy for them. If Wednesday was truly Machiavellian, she would know life is not fair and cut her losses and move forward, even at the expense of the underdog, but she never does. This trait of hating injustice is going to be the driving point because eventually she’ll forgive Tyler, but only in the intellectual pursuit of removing the stigma around hydes (not because the sympathy intertwines with her attachment to him, silly goose).

The Addams Family is odd and unusual and centered on the fact that the Addams are immensely loving and good people. Wednesday, despite showing love in odd ways, loves her people a lot. This care is what drives the story forward. While she is curious, her bouts of serious action are spurred when someone she loves is threatened. Pugsley is bullied, piranhas, now she's at Nevermore. Eugene gets attacked, her vitriol (no longer just curiosity) fuels her need to find the monster. Her father is arrested, she pushes herself to reconcile with her mother and make further discoveries on the Gates family. Thing is stabbed, she goes to the manor. Tyler is hurt and she goes back and reveals her cards. Her curiosity and intelligence is a great tool, but like a mathematical problem it is the same in every language and every place, decipherable once learned. Love and emotion however are contingent on specific circumstances and people, it can't ever be truly replicated. (“There are all kinds of love in the world but never the same love twice”) Enid, Eugene, Tyler, Pugsley, those are all irreplaceable to her, and that's why her love for these people is her strongest, most unique trait. That is what makes her Wednesday Addams. Her whole problem she has right now is thinking her emotions and her connections weaken her, when in reality the show proves she wouldn't have gotten anywhere without her people.

Another thing that causes her to get in her own way and she is warned about is her negativity. The nature of her being a Raven and Morticia warning against trusting Goody is really important! Ravens are predisposed to only see bad visions and circumstances. This is important because it causes Wednesday to only see a partial picture, leading her to make inaccurate assumptions and hasty decisions. Tyler plays into this because she only saw him getting manipulated and abused and being manipulative ,and she threw out her real life observations of his goodness for visions that she has been warned against trusting. I think being warned of Goody’s vengeful nature by Morticia is a sign that Wednesday is prone to letting the darkness sabotage her abilities and become impulsive.

Wednesday’s whole story seems to be based on the idea she can’t rely on only seeing the darkness in people, that is why her greatest allies are Enid, Eugene, and (previously) Tyler. All three of these people are gentle and present as pieces of light within the show and are people she doesn’t understand but truly shines with. Even think about “I did a terrible thing but I’m not a terrible person” like that’s the whole thing. Wednesday needs to learn (much like Tyler) that you can enjoy the dark and macabre, but that you can’t feed into negativity. There is a difference, and that’s how the Addams family has always been. They’ve never been negative, they’ve just been positive towards the shunned things in life. That’s what her story is!

Now, I love Jenna but I think she is so like Wednesday with her idea of “no romance”. Jenna is getting in the way of Wednesday’s story because I think Wednesday's whole arc is about her emotional development and defeating her tendency of denying the care she has for everybody. I think we have to move away from the idea that Wednesday has to be the spooky, mean, goth girl, intellectual who only pursues her career. She can be all of those things and be autonomous and still dedicate herself to family and love! Again guys, this is literally what the Addams Family has been about since its creation. You can be alternative and spooky and still love people and be happy! None of this has to be an either or situation. Do not let Wednesday limit herself based on a patriarchal idea that love only comes for women who conform and women who do fall in love are somehow vapid or less than!

I know a huge criticism of Wednesday has been how it messed with the Addams Family dynamic and made Wednesday act angsty towards her family, but if this is the arc they are following, it actually makes sense! Every iteration Wednesday has loved her family and in two of them she was a little romantic, it would be out of character to only make this a horror series.

[lilyofporcelain]

DWC - 09 Feb - Day 1 - Hypnotic / Star

In the quiet of the Grim and Tonic apothecary, she carefully peered around the various potions, elixirs, tinctures, and other concoctions that Saith so masterfully made. He labelled everything, of course, which didn’t surprise her in the least. How many of these things had been made for others, and how many had he made for personal projects? Rows and rows of bottles and vials sat before her, each in its own perfect little setting. One wrong idle move from her or Toasty having a sudden case of the zoomies, and she could just envision the domino effect of shattered glass and hissing liquids on wooden floor.

A smile hooked its way into half of her mouth as sher head tipped, hair not quite violet curling over her collar. And she’d worried about taking too much of his time away from his work. Or that he would grow bored and listless with her companionship. It was good to see that he kept himself busy. Saith’s background as an informant had controlled so much of him. Belidrae still worried that suddenly trying to acclimate to a life where he no longer had to do that would too much for him. She’d tried to be supportive of him and ultimately, the story was always the same. She only wanted him to be happy. To feel like he was significant. To know that he mattered and that he was important. For things other than his body or dust or thistle.

Are you happy, Saith, with the way things are? This relationship with me. Is it what you really want? Our engagement? I’d be all right if you changed your mind.

Would she, though? Belidrae didn’t think so in entirety. But if things went topsy turvy, which was entirely possible, she knew she’d find a way through it. She always had. In the end, all that really mattered to her was that he found what he was looking for. What he felt like he needed. She knew very well it just wasn’t healthy if he was using her as a form of escapism. She hoped it wasn’t that. If it was, the conversation would be a difficult one to have.

She could hear the soft, raspy ‘miaow’ that came from the siamese kitten who nonchalantly wandered in. Straightening herself up, Belidrae turned her attention onto… Well. She still didn’t know if Toasty was a boy or a girl. Trix had not told her when he gave the kitten to Belidrae on a chilly Winterveil day. Sweeping the kitten up carefully into her arms, she lifted a hand and gently prodded the curious kitten on the nose. “Aren’t you a curious thing,” she greeted her feline friend, a wide smile pulling at her face. “Wanted to come see what Mom was up to, hm? I don’t think your dad would want you in here, but we’ll keep it our little secret.”

Turning her attention back to the rows and rows and rows of Saith’s creations, Belidrae slowly moved down along the shelf and then she paused. There was one he’d been working on specifically for her. More than one, actually. She didn’t know where he’d even gotten the idea for it, but suspected it had something to do with the shade of her skin, something he’d always described as dusky. When he’d first told her about it, he’d described it as a concoction that when ingested would make it look as though constellations spread across her skin.

Belidrae had always liked a starry night sky. Plenty of them she’d spent her time under, even. Did he know she liked them? Had it just been a guess on his part? Leaning closer in to the bottle on display, its label in Saith’s rather picturesque handwriting, she smiled.

“You know, Toasty, you didn’t get to see this, but he made one for me before.”

Her expression was fond. On the night they’d met when he was certain she was divining tea leaves in her coffee, he’d taken her to a beautiful overgrown area with a waterfall and crumbling stone. And there, they’d spoken the entire night. And he’d been convinced that she was an agent of SI:7, something that continued to regularly amuse her. She’d not known it at the time, but his reasoning had been sound. She really was like an informant in her own way. Connections with people, believing those connections were important. Except she’d never been in it for the information. Sure, she’d heard things that otherwise loose lips wouldn’t have freed, but…

Shaking her head, Belidrae freed a sigh, gently squeezing Toasty to her. Saith had taken her back up there. Or rather, she’d taken him.

“It’s where I go when I need a moment’s peace.” She’d told him. “It’s where I go when I need time to think.” And it was as much one of her favourite places to be as the lamppost outside of the city or the river where they had washed Woogle’s clothes together beneath a moonlit sky.

The night she took him up there again, he’d finally completed his constellation potion. Or, rather, what was likely the first version of it. Warned her it tasted horrible. Said it wouldn’t be immediate. She’d grimaced like a child taking medicine that would surely do more good than the taste it left on the tongue. They whittled the time and got lost in conversation. A home in Suramar. His home in Hillsbrad. Futuristic talks of where they saw one another. A seductive dance of words. And she had finished something she started long before then in the Wetlands.

And then she’d glowed just like a night sky glittered with diamonds. Belidrae remembered it all so clearly. In the same way all of her memories of Saith were vivid. Moments in time that were suspended for her occasional perusal. Lightly scratching behind Toasty’s ear, she found herself taken back to those moments that she revisited with frequency. She’d asked him if he could make her something permanent that did the same thing. That she might already have constellations etched into her skin. He’d said it was possible, but as with all of his alchemical things, it was a process.

“How far have you gotten, thas’dorah?”

Looking down to Toasty, she offered a sly smile. “We should probably stop poking around his things, hm?” Although he’d known she was going to. In the city’s tavern, she’d asked him if she could. Her newest garment collection would incorporate all of the different things he’d made. She’d wanted to bring as much attention to his works as she could bring a similar attention to her own.

Making way back for the doorway, she closed it after herself and only after she’d set a rather befuddled Toasty on the ground, Belidrae rested her back to the door. How was she going to emulate the constellations? Imbued cloth, maybe. She’d been able to do it with the fabric that shuddered in light during her testing. But a constellation replica was going to be so much more difficult. Saith wouldn’t have an answer either. He’d admitted rather easily that he knew nothing about her tailoring work or what really went into it.

Rubbing her hands together, her gaze turned sharp and keen. “Well, Toasty, we don’t know until we try, right? Maybe I should make you something to wear. I bet you’d just love that.” Although she doubted the kitten could understand a single thing she said, the fact that she was met by her kitten’s back as they wandered off entirely disinterested in Belidrae’s conversation aloud, she couldn’t help laughing. “Yeah, I didn’t think you’d be into it. Back to the drawing board, eh?”

She’d figure it out. She always did.

— @daily-writing-challenge

[campcampkirbykirbykirby]

Camp Camp Commentary Notes - Season 1, Episode 2: Mascot

Writer's Commentary

Kerry doesn't remember anything about writing this episode

Except that he does because he wrote the Rube Goldberg scene to mess with the crew because it would be hard to animate and they did it anyway

Miles worked with Al McClelland, Jr (storyboard artist) to come up with the different parts of the machine, including the inhaler, another reused element from the scrapped pilot

Kerry helped to establish the levels of weird the series could go which had not been properly foreshadowed in the first episode, likely due to time

Kerry, as well as Rooster Teeth pariah Gray Haddock, had the most involvement in making the Quartermaster who he is

Kerry took this being the second episode very seriously, trying to figure out what a normal episode after the pilot is, but then decided making it "normal" was a bad idea so they made it weird instead

At this point, the only three episodes that were in progress were this, the pilot, and Scout's Dishonor.

Lots of little details that come up because the crew thought it would be funny

David has very red elbows

Yet another repurposing from the scrapped pilot is Neil's line about the camp being a future Walmart parking lot

In fact, it was part of a much bigger blowup Neil had in that pilot, compared to the one we got

Quartermaster has a lot of his own sound design, like changing his hook hands, which they deliberated on for a moment

Bear ears don't have bones, likely added for clarity

Lots of jokes added by Al, not all make it in

Kerry will sometimes write entire episodes around single lines he comes up with, such as Quartermaster's "grumble grumble jews" bit (which does come off as anti-semetic but could really mean anything, according to Kerry)

Said line being uncomfortable is the point, in that way it's no different from anything else about the Quartermaster

Before Harrison's backstory was his brother was pinned down, his initial shtick was just being bad at magic

The "bad idea in hindsight" line was added to justify them running to the dock

Point of the episode was to give the camp the worst mascot imaginable

All the other animals, the crew made as cute as possible, meanwhile the platypus "eats the shit out of Larry" per the script

MYSTERIOUS BLACK HAIRED GIRL (it's really more of a dark blue)

Cast and Crew Commentary

Jordan, Maggie, (Sick) Elizabeth, (Healthy) Cole

Larry's screams were done by Maggie

Platypus has 3 voices: Alena Lecorchick on snarls and growls, Miles doing the "Donald Duck talk", Jordan did all the muacks

This was the first episode to be really worked on start-to-finish, the pilot didn't get too far before being reworked

Quartermaster's bag might have dead goose or whale carcass

The nose-wiping bit is highlighted in both commentaries, it was part of the crew trying to understand the characters, as was the whole sub-plot with Max and Quartermaster

Elizabeth makes her friends watch Camp Camp, something she doesn't do with most of her filmography, help get some of them hooked

Some backgrounds here were reused in Season 2

Some consideration was put into perfecting the creepy atmosphere of certain scenes, like the centipede

Okay, so the bear skeleton in the cave was changed specifically to look more bear-like

Plug for the out-of-print Platypus plush (have fun searching eBay!)

No one is quite sure where the "King of the Forest" bit came from

Matt Hullum lost it when he saw it, which is a sign they've done something right

The stab was initially way more gruesome, it was toned down for the final episode

Everything Nerris sees is magic, established with the tin can/"wizard's amulet"

Docks give the crew trouble, they can't remember if there's supposed to be one or two

Mysterious camper again, this was part of the initial concept of the camp being bigger than just what we see, with extra camps and campers strewn about, but this was eventually phased out

[m4rv3l-girl]

an idea for “You made a List?”, a roleplay where she dresses up as a 40s housewife. I love your stories, if you could do it I would be very grateful

“You made a List?” - Part 5 (40s Roleplay)

Bucky x Y/N

Y/N made an interesting to-do list, Bucky wants to tick them all off..

Warnings: Smut. Roleplay. Fingering. Oral f!receiving. Unprotected p in v sex.

Bucky had no idea what he was walking into.

That much was clear from the moment he stepped into the apartment and inhaled the scent of something warm and buttery drifting from the kitchen. It wasn’t the usual kind of dinner Y/N whipped up after a long day, though. No, this smelled… old-fashioned.

The second thing he noticed was the sound of a record playing softly in the background—something classic, something he hadn’t heard in decades. His brow furrowed as he set down his keys, gaze flicking toward the soft golden glow filtering in from the dining room. That’s when he saw it.

Y/N.

Standing in the middle of the room, wearing the most perfect little 1940s number he had ever seen. A delicate, powder-blue dress cinched at the waist, the fabric hugging her just right before it flared out in a swirl of nostalgia. A dainty apron was tied around her middle, and—Jesus, did she really have her hair pinned up like that? Like a real doll straight out of his memories.

“Welcome home, darling,” she said sweetly, her voice laced with playful charm as she turned from the table, holding a glass of whiskey in one hand, a warm smile on her lips.

Bucky blinked.

His mouth opened, then shut again.

He swallowed thickly, his fingers flexing at his sides as his mind struggled to catch up with what his eyes were seeing.

“Doll…” he started, stepping closer, his voice a little hoarse. “What—?”

Y/N’s smile turned coy. “You work so hard, sweetheart. I thought I’d take care of you tonight.” She stepped forward, offering the glass to him with both hands, tilting her chin up to look at him through her lashes. “Go on, sit down. I made dinner. Your favorite.” Bucky exhaled a short laugh through his nose, shaking his head in disbelief. “You serious?”

“As a heart attack.”

A slow, warm grin pulled at his lips. His heart was pounding, and he wasn’t even sure why. Maybe it was the effort she’d put into this—the way she had transformed their apartment into a portal to his past, just for him. Maybe it was the way she looked, the way she said sweetheart like it belonged to her, like it belonged to them.

“Doll,” he murmured, his voice softer now. He reached out, curling a hand around her waist, pulling her in. His vibranium fingers traced along the fabric of her apron, feeling the warmth of her beneath it. “You really did all this?”

She nodded. “I wanted to do something for you.” Her smile faltered just slightly, turning a little shy. “I know sometimes… you miss it. I thought maybe, just for one night, we could bring a little bit of that time back.”

His chest tightened, something deep and unspoken settling in his ribs.

He thought about the war. About Brooklyn before everything changed. About how, once upon a time, this kind of life had been all he wanted—a warm home, a loving wife, a soft place to land after a long day. He’d buried that dream decades ago, along with the boy who had it. But somehow, in the way Y/N was looking at him now, it didn’t feel so distant.

It felt real.

“Come on, soldier,” she teased, stepping back, tugging his hand toward the dining table. “Eat first. Then, we’ll see what else I can do to take care of you.”

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head, but the way his grip tightened around her waist told her exactly what he was thinking. “Doll,” he murmured again, voice lower now, almost reverent. He leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of her ear as he whispered, “You have no idea what you’ve just started.”

She giggled. “This…may have been on the list.”

The list.

That’s what it was. The list she’d been following for weeks, her little collection of ideas to spice up their life together. He’d caught her scribbling things down as ideas came to her, her cheeks always going little pink when he asked what she was adding. Knife play, temperature play, role play—each one more surprising than the last. And now this, a step into a time that was almost as much a fantasy to her as it was a memory to him.

He took the whiskey, the warmth of the liquid spreading through him as he sat down, his eyes never leaving her as she swayed back to the kitchen, her hips moving to the rhythm of the music. The apron strings swished against her legs as she walked, and he couldn’t help but feel a swell of something in his chest that was equal parts fondness and desire.

When she returned with a platter of steaming meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and gravy, Bucky felt like he’d been transported.

The way she served him, with such gentle care, reminded him of the moments of peace he’d stolen in the chaos of his past. It was a stark contrast to the cold efficiency he’d been taught, the way he’d learned to survive in the decades that followed.

“Dig in, darling,” she urged, placing the plate before him with a flourish.

The food looked and smelled heavenly, but Bucky’s gaze remained on Y/N. He took in every detail of her transformation—the pearls around her neck, the red lipstick that matched the color of her nails, the way she’d even put on stockings that reveal a hint of her bare thighs. It was like watching a movie, one he’d seen before but hadn’t realized he missed.

As they ate, the conversation flowed easily, filled with laughter and gentle teasing that felt both familiar and fresh. Y/N had done her homework, peppering her speech with 40s lingo that made him smile, and Bucky found himself slipping into the role without even trying. It was as if the walls of their modern apartment had thinned to let in the warmth of a bygone era.

The whiskey helped, too. It burned a smooth path down his throat, reminding him of the whiskey rations they’d had in the barracks, a rare comfort in the cold nights before a mission. But here, in the warm glow of the candlelit dinner, it tasted different—sweeter, richer, because it was shared with her.

He watched as she cleared the dishes, her hips swaying to the music, her smile never once slipping.

“You really had this all figured out, huh?” he said, his eyes lingering on her, his voice filled with a soft awe.

Y/N turned to him, her smile widening. “I just wanted to make sure it was perfect for you, darling.”

Her words hit him like a punch to the gut, the affection in her tone resonating deep within him. This wasn’t just a game to her; she truly wanted to give him a taste of what he’d lost. And for a moment, he let himself believe that maybe, just maybe, it was possible to reclaim a piece of that life.

As she cleared the last of the plates, Bucky’s gaze trailed over the living room they’d converted into a 1940s dream. The couch had been rearranged, now with a small, round table between them, a vintage lamp casting a soft glow over the scene. He could almost see himself and Y/N as they would have been in that time—she, a housewife with a heart full of love and strength, and he, a man just trying to hold on to what he had left.

“You know, I’ve always wondered what it was like back then,” Y/N said, placing the last plate in the sink before turning back to him.

Bucky’s smile grew, a hint of sadness in his eyes. “It wasn’t all like this, doll. But the good parts—this, us—it’s something I’d give anything to have had for real.”

They moved into the living room, the record spinning a slow, romantic tune. Y/N took his hand, leading him to the couch, her touch gentle and sure. They sat, the cushions sinking beneath them, and she placed his hand on her knee, her eyes shimmering with a mischievous excitement.

“How about we take you all the way back, honey?” she suggested, her voice low and sultry.

Bucky’s pulse quickened as he looked into her eyes, seeing the spark of excitement. He knew what she meant—the role play was about to take a turn, and his mind raced with the possibilities. He swallowed, his throat dry.

“What do you have in mind, darling?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave, slipping into the character she’d painted for him.

Y/N leaned in closer, her breath hot against his ear. “Well, my hubby’s been at work all day. So, I’m gonna help him de-stress.” She outlined the story of her well thought out roleplay.

The room was now their stage, the couch their intimate corner in a 1940s movie.

Y/N’s hand slid up Bucky’s arm, her grip tightening as she leaned closer, her breath warm and tantalizing against his cheek. “You’ve had a long day, haven’t you?” she murmured, her eyes shimmering with anticipation.

Bucky’s heart thudded in his chest as he nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. He felt a thrill at the thought of the intimate scenes they were about to play out, scenes that would bring him a bit of comfort, a bit of warmth from a past that had been so cruelly stolen from him.

“Oh, I have,” he agreed, his voice a low rumble. “I’ve missed you all day, doll. What’s a man to do when his best girl’s not around?”

Y/N giggled, her cheeks flushing a pretty pink. “Well, I’ve got just the thing to help you unwind, darling.” She reached for his tie, her movements slow and deliberate as she untied it, her eyes never moving from his.

The air grew thick with tension as she worked, her hands shaking just a little. Bucky could see the nerves playing across her features, the anticipation making her pupils dilate. She was so earnest in her desire to give this to him, to make him feel alive in a way that she knew he hadn’t in a very long time. It was a gift, and he was going to cherish it.

When she had the tie free, she let it hang loosely around his neck, her fingertips grazing the collar of his shirt. “Let’s get you out of this monkey suit,” she whispered, her voice a seductive purr.

Bucky felt his body respond to her touch, the years melting away as he allowed her to help him out of his jacket and unbutton his shirt. He hadn’t felt this alive, this human, in so long. It was like she’d reached into his soul and pulled out the man he’d once been, the man he’d thought he’d lost forever.

Once his shirt was open, she straddled him, her dress hiking up just enough to expose the tops of her stockings. Her hands roamed over his bare chest, exploring the contours of his muscles with the feigned curiosity of a woman discovering a new lover, despite knowing him better than anyone. The soft fabric of her dress brushed against his skin, sending shivers down his spine.

“You’re so strong, darling,” she cooed, tracing her finger around the edge of his vibranium arm.

Bucky’s chuckle was warm and rich, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he pulled her closer. The weight of his arms around her felt like home—like safety, like everything good he’d ever known. He could feel the warmth of her skin through the dress, the softness of her body pressed against his.

“Is that right?” he asked, playing along, his voice thick with desire. “What is it you want from me, dollface?”

Her smile grew, a hint of mischief in her eyes. “Oh, I want to make you feel like you’re home, darling.” She leaned in, her breath a warm tickle against his neck. “I want to make you feel like you never left.”

Bucky’s grip tightened around her waist, pulling her closer as he felt his heart swell with affection. This was a side of Y/N he hadn’t seen before—softer, more vulnerable. It was intoxicating, a lovely blend of passion and tenderness that made him want to protect her as fiercely as he wanted to claim her.

“You’ve got no idea what you do to me, dollface,” he murmured, his voice a low growl of desire.

Y/N’s eyes lit up with excitement as she slid her hand up to the back of his neck, her thumb tracing the line of his jaw. “You’ve been such a good husband, working hard for your country, for us.”

Bucky felt the weight of her words, the acknowledgment of his past, the acceptance of the man he had been, and the love she had for the man he was now. It was a balm to his soul, a gentle reminder that he wasn’t just a relic from another time, but a cherished part of hers. “Thanks, Doll. You know what else a good husband does?”

Y/N’s smile grew grew, her eyes dancing. “What’s that, darling?”

“A good husband makes sure his wife is satisfied,” he said, his voice dropping even lower, the vibranium hand on her waist sliding up to cup her cheek. The fabric of her dress was like silk under his calloused palm.

Y/N’s eyes darkened, a small smirk playing on her lips. “Is that so? Well, I’ve had quite a day myself, darling. Maybe you should show me how you take care of a lady after a hard day’s work around the house?”

Bucky’s smile grew as he leaned in, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw before sliding around to the back of her neck, his grip firm but gentle. “I’d be more than happy to show you, Mrs. Barnes.” He dipped his head, capturing her lips in a kiss that was a promise of everything to come. Her mouth opened for him, welcoming him with a soft sigh, and the world outside their apartment melted away, leaving only the two of them and the rich taste of whiskey on her tongue.

The kiss grew deeper, more demanding, and Bucky’s other hand slid around her waist, his fingers digging into the soft flesh there. Y/N’s breath hitched, her body arching into his touch, and she felt a thrill at the heat. She had been worried that the role play would be awkward, that he would feel uncomfortable with her playing the part of a woman from his past, but as their bodies melded together, she could feel his tension dissipating, his shoulders relaxing as he gave in to the fantasy she’d crafted for him.

Bucky’s hand moved up her back, finding the zipper of her dress, and he pulled it down slowly, feeling the fabric whisper against her skin. The dress pooled around her, leaving her in a delicate lace slip that left little to the imagination. He took in the sight of her, his eyes dark and hungry, and she felt a rush of power at the desire she saw reflected in them. She was giving him this, bringing him a piece of himself back, and she reveled in it.

He slid the slip off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, and his eyes took in the fullness of her breasts, the softness of her belly, the curves of her hips. His touch was delicate, his fingers tracing the lines of her body as if he was discovering something precious. She shivered under his gaze, her skin coming alive with every brush of his thumb.

“You’re so beautiful, doll,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “Always were, always will be.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in his words. She had never felt more cherished than in that moment, her body laid bare before him, her soul laid bare in the way she’d tried to bring a piece of his past to life. She leaned into his touch, her breath shallow as his vibranium hand skimmed over her skin, leaving trails of electric warmth in its wake.

With a gentle nudge, Bucky stood up, lifting her off the couch with surprising ease, and carried her to the bedroom. The role play was more than just a game now—it was a tether to a past he’d lost, a bridge to a time when love was simple and fierce and all-consuming. He laid her down on the bed, the softness of the comforter enveloping her.

He hovered over her, his gaze lingering on her curves, his hand trailing along her side, feeling the heat of her skin. “You’re my best girl, doll,” he murmured, his voice a mix of affection and possessiveness that sent a shiver down her spine.

The bedroom was a sanctuary from the outside world, the heavy curtains drawn, the only light coming from a single lamp casting a warm glow across the room. It was as if they’d stepped into a time machine, the modern world forgotten. The sheets were soft and cool beneath her as Bucky settled between her legs, his weight pressing her into the mattress.

He kissed her neck, her collarbone, his teeth grazing her skin in a way that made her gasp. His vibranium hand cupped her breast, his thumb brushing over her nipple, teasing it into a tight peak. The sensation was exquisite, a blend of pain and pleasure that made her arch into his touch.

“You’re the best little housewife a man could ask for,” he murmured against her skin, his voice gruff with desire. “Always waiting for me with dinner on the table, looking so pretty for me to come home to.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she felt his vibranium hand slip between her thighs, the coldness of it a stark contrast to the heat building in her core. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, her eyes fluttering shut as he began to explore her with a gentle but firm touch.

“Best little wife for me,” he whispered against her skin, his teeth grazing the sensitive spot just beneath her ear. “Taking care of me, making sure I’m happy. You know what happens to good little wives who do all that, don’t you?”

Y/N shivered, her eyes fluttering shut as Bucky’s hand continued its journey down her body, his vibranium fingers skimming the waistband of her panties. “What happens?” she breathed, her voice barely a whisper.

“They get what they deserve,” he growled, his teeth sinking into her earlobe just enough to make her gasp. His hand slipped under the fabric, finding her wet and ready. He groaned in approval, his thumb circling her clit with a precision that sent waves of pleasure crashing through her.

Bucky’s touch grew more demanding, his vibranium hand moving faster as he whispered sweet nothings about how good she was, how much he needed her. Y/N’s hips rolled, meeting his hand with eager movements that spoke of her own desire. She could feel herself building, her body tightening around the promise of his touch.

“Love you so much, Sweetie,” he murmured, his breath hot against her neck as he kissed and nipped at the sensitive skin there. “The best thing that ever happened to me.” His voice was a mix of reverence and need.

Y/N’s eyes rolled back in pleasure as she felt his vibranium fingers slide into her, his thumb still circling her clit with a maddening rhythm. It was as if he was trying to reclaim every lost moment, every touch that he’d missed out on. His movements were firm, sure, like a man who knew exactly what he wanted. And what he wanted was to make her cry out his name, to feel her come apart in his arms like a satisfied wife.

Bucky’s eyes searched hers as he moved, watching her face as if it was a map to his own pleasure. He whispered sweet things in her ear, calling her his good girl, his best little housewife, his everything. The words were a caress, a gentle reminder of the love that existed between them, even in the heat of the moment.

Her body responded to his, arching and writhing under his touch. She could feel his need for her, the way his heart raced against her chest, the way he gripped her hips as if she was the only thing anchoring him to the present. She wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him closer, her nails digging into his back as he thrust his fingers into her with a passion that was fierce and tender.

And then, as if reading her mind, he stopped, his hand stilling, his breath ragged. He looked down at her, his eyes searching hers, and she knew what was coming next. He’d done his research, knew what she liked, and was eager to pretend he was more than just her soldier. He was her husband in every sense of the word.

With a gentle nudge, he moved her thighs apart, his vibranium hand sliding away to be replaced by the soft press of his lips against her stomach. She watched in wonder as he kissed a trail down her body, his eyes never leaving hers, the intensity in his gaze making her squirm with anticipation. His mouth reached the junction between her thigh and core.

Bucky took a moment to breathe in the scent of her arousal, his eyes fluttering closed as if savoring it. He’d always enjoyed going down on her, but tonight was different. Tonight, he wanted to worship her, to show her just how much she meant to him, how much he appreciated the care she’d put into this. He parted her folds with his index and middle finger.

When he finally brought his mouth to her, Y/N’s hips jerked upward, a surprised gasp escaping her lips. His tongue was warm and wet against her clit, sending pulses of pleasure through her body. He’d never done it like this before—so focused, so intent. It was like he was trying to memorize the taste of her, the way she quivered and gasped under his touch.

Bucky took his time, his mouth moving against her with a gentle urgency that was almost painfully sweet. His tongue traced her folds, exploring every crevice, every sensitive spot with a tender thoroughness that had Y/N’s toes curling in her heels. He’d always been good at this, but tonight, it was like he was trying to claim a part of her that no one else had ever touched.

Her hands found their way to his hair, tangling in the soft strands as she held him to her, urging him on with her breathy whimpers.

Bucky's movements grew more confident, more possessive. He knew exactly what he was doing, his tongue flicking and swirling in a dance that had her back arching off the bed. She could feel the tension building within her, a tight coil that was threatening to snap at any moment. He alternated between stroking her clit with the tip of his tongue and sucking on it, the gentle pressure and the warmth of his mouth sending her spiraling closer and closer to the edge.

Her moans grew louder, filling the room, and she knew that he enjoyed the sounds she was making. It was like he was feeding off her pleasure, using it to fuel his own desire. She could see the hunger in his eyes, the way he watched her with an intensity that was almost feral.

Bucky’s tongue delved deeper, licking and lapping at her with a primal need that had her panting his name. He was sloppy, messy, unabashed in his worship of her body—like a starving man finally given a feast. And she was the banquet laid out before him, ready to be consumed.

Y/N’s eyes rolled back in her head, her body tightening with each stroke. She’d never felt so desired, so cherished. His Vibranium fingers grazed her inner thigh lightly, the coolness sending shivers up her spine. He knew exactly how to play her body, each touch a masterpiece of sensation. He suckled on her clit, his tongue flicking and swirling in a delicious rhythm that had her hips bucking against his mouth.

The wet sounds of his tongue against her flesh filled the room, punctuated by her breathy moans. Bucky’s grip on her thighs grew firmer, his eyes never leaving hers, as if he was daring her to look away from the passion he had for her. But she couldn’t—his gaze held her captive, a silent promise of the climax to come.

And then with a sudden, deep slide of his tongue, he buried it in her completely, and she shattered. Her orgasm hit her like a tidal wave, a peak of pleasure that made her back arch and her eyes roll back in her head. She screamed his name, the sound echoing in the room, a declaration of the intensity of her release.

Bucky’s eyes never left hers as he felt her clench around his fingers, her thighs tightening as she rode out the wave of pleasure. “So His heart swelled with love and pride, feeling the tremors of her body beneath his mouth, knowing that he’d given her that.

Slowly, tenderly, he made his way up her body, kissing a trail of heat along her stomach, her breasts, her neck, until he reached her mouth. He took her in a deep, soulful kiss, tasting himself on her, her sweetness on his tongue. The passion between them grew with every second, the lines between past and present blurring until all that was left was their love, their connection.

With trembling hands, Bucky reached for the buttons on his own shirt, his eyes never leaving hers. He watched as she took in the sight of him, her gaze traveling over his muscled chest with a hunger that mirrored his own. He shrugged out of his shirt, his vibranium arm gleaming in the soft light. For a moment, the metal was a stark reminder of his past, but then she reached out, her fingertips grazing the cool metal, and it was just another part of him she loved.

Her touch was gentle, as if she was afraid to break the spell that had been woven between them. Her soft palm slid over his heart, the warmth of her skin a stark contrast to the cold metal of his arm. His own hand moved to cover hers, pressing it closer, feeling the steady beat beneath his skin.

“You’re so warm,” she whispered, her eyes wide with wonder, and he felt a swell of affection for her, this woman who had brought him so much peace in a world that had been so cold and unforgiving.

Bucky’s eyes searched hers as he lowered his body onto hers, his weight a comforting presence that grounded him in the here and now. He kissed her softly, their tongues dancing in a rhythm that spoke of their shared history and the promise of what was to come. Her hands roamed over his shoulders, his back, her nails digging into his skin.

He reached for her hips. His eyes never left hers as he positioned himself at her entrance, his cock aching for the warm embrace of her sex. Y/N’s thighs fell open, welcoming him in with a soft sigh. He pushed inside her, inch by inch, watching the way her eyes widened and her breath hitched with each gentle push. Her walls clenched around him, a sweet embrace that made his heart ache with the intensity of his longing.

As he filled her completely, Bucky couldn’t help but feel like he was coming home—to a place that was warm and safe and his. He began to move, his hips rocking in a slow, steady rhythm that had her arching into him with a need that was almost desperate. Her legs wrapped around his waist, her heels digging into his ass as she urged him deeper, her nails scoring down his back.

Her moans grew louder, the sound of them a siren’s call that had his blood singing in his veins. He’d missed this, the raw passion that came from a place that was untouched by the horrors of his past. Y/N was his beacon, the one who had brought him back to the light, and in that moment, as he claimed her, he knew that he’d do anything to protect her, to cherish her.

Their bodies moved together in a collage of desire, their limbs tangled, their hearts beating in time. The bed creaked softly beneath them, the only sound in the room other than their mingled breaths and the faint crackle of the record playing in the background. Bucky’s vibranium hand gripped her hip, guiding her movements, his other hand cradling her head, holding her close as if she might vanish at any moment.

He felt himself growing closer to the edge, the pressure building, the pleasure winding tighter with every stroke. He could see the need in her gaze, the want, the love, and it was all too much.

“Fuck…My pretty little wife…” He grunted.

Bucky’s hips began to move faster, his strokes more urgent as he chased his release. Y/N’s legs tightened around him, her heels digging into his lower back, her nails scoring his shoulders as she matched his rhythm, her own desire building to a peak.

And when he finally came, it was with a roar that seemed to shake the foundations of their home.

His cock pulsed with the force of his release, filling her with a warmth that was as much emotional as it was physical. Y/N’s eyes widened, her body clenching around him, her own climax rushing over her in response to the intensity of his. Her nails dug into his back, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she felt her walls being coated with his cum.

They stayed there, panting and tangled, the aftermath of their passion hanging heavy in the air. Bucky’s heart hammered in his chest, the beat of it echoing in his ears, as if trying to remind him that this wasn’t a dream. This was real. This was his life. Well, most of it.

And then it hit him, like a bolt from the blue—or rather, a whisper from the heart that had been beating for her since the moment they’d met. He pulled back slightly,. “Marry me, doll,” he blurted out, the words surprising even him.

Y/N’s eyes went wide, her breath hitching as she searched his face, looking for any hint of jest or doubt. But all she found was love - deep, unshakeable love that had been building between them despite the chaos of their lives.

“Bucky?” she whispered, her voice trembling with hope.

He took a deep breath and kissed her softly. “I know this isn’t how you pictured it. Hell, I know it’s not what I had planned. But here we are, in our own little slice of the 40s, and it’s just hit me, I…I want to spend every moment with you. I want to wake up next to you every morning, come home to you every night. And grow old with you.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, her eyes brimming with tears. She’d never seen this side of him, never knew he could be so open, so vulnerable. She nodded, her voice shaking. “Bucky, honey..yeah, I’ll marry you. Of course I will.”

——————————————————————————————————

Hope this is what you had in your amazing brain, anonymous reader! I really enjoyed making this one. 🫶

[chilling-seavey]

Lessons in Lust and Other Illicit Desires (gr63) —EIGHT

↳ A/N So apparently I really can't keep to a word count goal. But this is one of my favourite chapters thus far!!

↳ Series Summary: Sensible, wise, and a hopeless dreamer, Rosaline was used to men not giving her a second glance. She soon discovered it was merely those mundane college boys who were nothing more than simply intimidated by her intellect. What she needed was a man — someone who could impart knowledge beyond the Classics and guide her in discovering her own confidence as a woman. The thrill of sneaking around with the ever-so-charmingly handsome Professor Russell was certainly a bonus.

↳ Pairings: OxfordProfessor!George Russell x Innocent!Student!OC, Max Verstappen x Charles Leclerc (background)

↳ Chapter Word Count: 7.1k

↳ Chapter Warnings: 18+, nsfw, exhibitionism, fingering, slight dirty talk.

“This project is bullshit.”

Max’s notebook paper looked about ready to tear in half with how aggressively he was erasing yet another incorrect formula. He tossed his mutilated eraser onto the wood table and raked both hands through his already tousled blonde hair, fingers clutching onto the roots as if to figuratively and literally pull his hair out. The warm light of the lamps dotted along the library table reflected in his blue eyes that were narrowed towards his page under furrowed brows and a steadfast expression of distaste. 

Rosaline and Tabitha glanced at him from their spot on the opposite side of the table but before they could say anything, he was off on a tangent, “The other engineering class gets to study and design a part of a Formula 1 car of their choosing which is fucking cool. What does our class get? An assignment to create something that will help farmers be more efficient in their harvesting techniques.” 

Max scoffed and tossed his pencil down as he slouched back in his chair with a huff.

“This idiot professor is so old he probably has never seen a car in his life.” Max continued, his tone full of seething disgust, “Still wouldn’t even have a clue even if the fucking RB19 hit him going full throttle down the Monza straights.”

From his right, Charles snickered from behind his phone screen, his eyes darting over to his agitated boyfriend. Anyone else might have been a little put off by Max’s very aggressive delivery of a borderline threat of life to an elderly professor, but their little group could only smile fondly at his frustration. 

Charles spoke up, “Do you think a person would just…explode if they were hit by the RB19 going full throttle?”

“Yes.” Max answered without hesitation, his gaze still focused on his wrinkled notebook paper and open textbook. 

Charles stared at his profile for a moment as if in thought, debating the validity, and then looked back to his phone with a satisfied and simple “hm”.

On the other side of the table, Rosaline and Tabitha looked at each other and then shared amused chuckles before turning back to their own work. 

Around them, the aged dark wood shelves of the Bodleian Old Library housed a few dozen students spending their Thursday night with their noses in dusty books and reliable laptops. Rosaline and her friends were among them, luckily having snagged a spot at one of the long centralized tables in the heart of the main hall, surrounded by well stocked shelves that stretched up two storeys to the intricately carved wood paneled ceiling.

Voices carried easily in those ancient buildings of Oxford so they spoke in hushed tones while the rustle of students pulling literary texts from the shelves sounded magnified and shiver-worthy. The sounds of knowledge, of a desire to learn, to imagine and to dream. Rosaline felt so at peace in the Oxford libraries. It felt as though the history was only heightened in those spaces; something about the lingering coating of dust on the covers of centuries old books making the past feel more alive. 

As if on cue, Tabitha turned away and sneezed as quietly as she could manage into her elbow. The sound echoed. A few students glanced over. 

Charles sighed dramatically and dropped his phone onto the table with a loud thud, his head lolling back to look up towards the ceiling. Being a music student, there wasn’t much work for Charles to complete in a library but he always came along to keep the rest of their group company. It always panned out the same way - he was quiet and busied himself at first but then quickly got restless.

He sighed again to the ceiling and then lolled his head to the side to look at Max who had since hunched over his books again, announcing, “I’m bored.”

Max barely offered a grunt in response, biting at the end of his pencil as his mind worked a mile a minute to try and solve whatever problem was currently vexing him.

Charles sighed again. Tabitha shushed him from across the table. 

Heaving himself from where he was draped back in his chair, Charles leaned his arms on the table towards Rosaline, asking her in a loud whisper, “So when do we get to know of your secret lover?”

Rosaline met his gaze over her laptop and she broke into a small smirk at his nosy question before replying, “I don’t know.”

“C’mon,” Charles pleaded, “I can keep good secrets.”

“No, you can’t.” Max piped up without tearing his eyes away from his books. 

“Chut.” Charles playfully shot at his boyfriend. 

Despite her hand furiously writing out notes, Tabitha smiled at their bickering. 

Charles continued to press Rosaline, “Is he your boyfriend?”

Rosaline shrugged, “Not really. We’re just…keeping it casual.”

“What is “keeping casual”?” Charles asked with air quotes, “Kissing? Or more?”

Rosaline licked away her smile, folding her hands together under her chin as she humoured him with a little detail, “Well, I made him come in his pants last week.”

Charles let out a surprised squeak so loud it could almost have passed as a scream and he smacked his hand over his mouth as a few nearby students glared at him. Max’s pencil was suddenly dropped at her statement, his attention taken from his work to be entirely focused on her instead.

“You made him what?” he asked as firmly and seriously as he could. 

Rosaline smiled almost proudly, “You heard me.”

“Putain, Rose.” Charles breathed, “I need to know now!”

“No, you don’t.” she chuckled.

“Uh, yes, we do.” Max backed his boyfriend up, pointing a finger at her, “Start talking.”

Tabitha sighed and set her pencil down too, “Will you guys stop gossiping in the library? I’m sure everyone can hear you.”

Charles and Max both held up a hand to her to silence her. She rolled her eyes. 

“Where did you say you met this guy again?” Max asked.

Rosaline shrugged, twisting the truth only slightly, “In one of my lectures.”

Max nodded slowly, staring at her as if trying to catch her out in a lie, “Uh huh…”

“What? You don’t believe I can find myself a man without your futile attempt at wingmaning?” Rosaline countered. 

“Frankly, no.” Max replied, deadpanned. 

Rosaline shot him a pointed glare.

“What’s his name? What’s his birthday? What’s his GPA?” Max asked, trying to catch her out in a lie.

“Not telling, I don’t know, higher than yours.” she answered easily, looking back at her laptop. 

Charles’ eyebrows raised, “You don’t know his birthday?”

Tabitha chuckled from her spot across from him, “That’s what you’re concerned about? Do you even remember my birthday?”

Charles opened his mouth defensively but when he honestly couldn’t think of the answer, he shut it into a firm line. 

“Wow!” Tabitha gaped. 

Max simply narrowed his eyes at Rosaline, his voice calm and serious, “Fine. Keep your secrets. But I hope you will be honest with us - your best friends - eventually.” 

Rosaline shrugged without looking up from her laptop, “Eventually.”

As the hour wore on, the group continued working on their independent assignments. It wasn’t long before Charles’ restlessness was driving Max far more crazy than any impossible engineering task could so they said their goodbyes and left. Charles carried Max’s bag for him over one shoulder, smiling his dimpled grin as they walked hand in hand down the main hall of the library together. 

About thirty minutes after Charles and Max left, Tabitha checked her watch, announcing that she better head back to her dorm too. Rosaline watched her pack up and, upon her friend’s concern, assured her she would be able to make it back to her dorm on her own later once the library closed and she was inevitably kicked out. The two shared their good nights and soon Rosaline was left alone at the table with only the click of her laptop keys as company. 

Most of the students had gone by then, leaving only a straggling few at the far end of the spacious hall. Rosaline wasn’t a stranger to making herself comfortable in the libraries of Oxford until the librarians had to kick her out to close up. So, she felt perfectly at home with the company of the books and the warm light of the lamps on the worn wood table tops, the rest of the campus fading into darkness behind the large paned lancet windows of the library. 

“Rosaline?”

The gentle call of her name had her looking up from her laptop, turning over her shoulder to see George walking in her direction with a modest stack of books in his arm. The sight of him in the warm moody lighting that bathed the dark wood library made him look effortlessly more handsome than normal and one glance at him and her heart skipped a beat. 

“George…” she breathed at her notice of him, a small calm smile coming to her lips, “What are you doing here so late?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” he countered smoothly, coming to a stop at the head of the long table that had once been taken up by students and her group of friends. Now empty, it was only the two of them left. 

Rosaline answered first, gesturing to her laptop, “I’m just finishing up some work for some of my lectures. I have a comparative essay due next week for my Greek and Roman Mythology course.”

“I see,” George glanced down at the various texts she had opened on the table around her, colour coded sticky notes with scribbled ideas dotting the various pages, “The ancient classic literature; not my cup of tea but an important foundation to all that we know and love nevertheless.”

Rosaline leaned back in her chair to look up at him, returning to her initial question she had asked him, “And your excuse?”

George smiled a symmetrical modest smile to the stack of books in his arm, his free hand gently patting the top one, “Ah, just returning some of these. Some for lecture preparation, some for pleasure.”

“Of course, the lush libraries of Oxford could never keep a literature professor away.” Rosaline replied playfully. 

“You caught me there.” he chuckled warmly. 

They were quiet for just a moment. The awareness of how empty the library hall was suddenly settled around them. 

Then, George asked calmly, “Would you like to accompany me in returning these to their shelves? I can tell you a bit about them if you’re interested.”

Rosaline’s hand was shutting her laptop before she could even reply, “Yes.”

The well-stocked shelves of the library guided them through centuries of lives and stories tucked away in worn dust jackets and creased paperbacks. The lingering scent of dust was a familiar presence in the heart of Oxford’s many libraries and it was a generally off-putting smell that Rosaline was very quite fond of. It simply added to the ambiance of the gorgeously hand carved wooden book shelves and the glimmering stained glass lancet windows that were now dimmed with the nightfall. 

Rosaline had left her packed bag behind at the table at which she had sat, wanting to have her hands free for this little journey with George to return the precious books to their rightful homes. She followed behind him closely, her eyes soaking up his broad shoulders and back in his ironed button up shirt and, shamelessly, the curve of his ass in his slacks. It was their first time alone and away from their responsibilities as mentor/mentee since their little agreement and the concept of this had Rosaline’s heart racing. She wondered if he could hear it through the silence of the library. 

George guided her through the organized shelves with practiced ease as if he had been navigating them for his entire life. He knew exactly where every book he held belonged and barely needed to give the stocked shelf a skim before he knew which two he needed to nestle the chosen one between. He spoke to her about each one as they strolled through the library together, hidden amongst the books and ornately carved wood trim and edging. Some were more philosophical, some were more fiction, there were one or two books of poetry.

It seemed that with every book he returned to its place, he could recite at least one line, one passage, one poem from its pages. He spoke in a whisper with his voice as enticing as steaming morning coffee, rich and sensual and delicious. She wanted to taste his words; the way he spoke every beautiful constructed line of literature. Wanted to lick her way into his mouth and taste his verses until his sonnets were hers.

When he was down to the final book, he led her down the final row to its destination, “And the descriptions truly had me right in the main character’s shoes, feeling exactly what she was feeling at any moment in time. I find so many students think excess adjectives and lengthy blocks of text is what makes for successful descriptions but in reality, if done well, even a single sentence can take the place of an entire paragraph.”

They fell to a stop and George crouched down to skim one of the lower shelves, his loafers creased slightly across the toes from how he was balanced on the balls of his feet. 

While he looked for where the book belonged, Rosaline continued their conversation, “I once read this novel in which the author compared the light from a police flashlight being shone in a dark room like ‘spilt milk’ and it stuck with me. The simplest simile but it did a shiver-worthy job of putting you in the scene.”

“Bel Canto, wasn’t it?” George asked as he slid the paperback book between two hardcovers, leaving it with a pat to its spine. He glanced up at Rosaline from his spot, a knowing smile on his face, “By Ann Patchett?” 

Rosaline’s face lit up, “Yes, that’s the one.” 

He stood up again, adjusting the wrinkled fabric of his slacks around his thighs, “That’s a good one. Not too well known.”

“I’m surprised you knew it from just my brief mention of that line.” Rosaline agreed with an impressed smile, resting her hip against the bookshelf they stood beside, her arms casually crossing across her chest. 

“It must have stuck with me just as strongly.” he smiled in return. 

“It was that line that made me really want to write that one line that sticks with my readers for the rest of their lives.”

There was a beat of pause between them and then George took a step closer, “Close your eyes for me.”

Rosaline let out a breathy chuckle, “Why?”

“We’re going to practice your descriptions.” 

Rosaline wanted to argue why closing her eyes was going to help them with practicing her descriptions but his handsome, princely face in the warm light of the library lamps had her entirely entrusting him. She let her eyes flutter closed. She felt him step a little closer. 

“Pretend you are your main character and this library is your setting,” George instructed softly, voice low and coaxing, “We often depend too heavily on sight in our writing, merely showing the reader what the character sees. But the most compelling descriptions go beyond the visual—they pull the reader in by engaging every sense. So, with your eyes closed, I want you to immerse yourself fully. What would the main character be feeling right now? Let your other senses guide your words.”

Rosaline thought for a moment, taking a second to take in everything around her in the darkness of her eyelids. She uncrossed her arms and set a cautious hand on the shelf she was leaning against, shifting as she spoke slowly, softly, “Well, I feel the worn wood of the bookshelves…the uneven hardwood floors under my feet.”

Neither of them spoke for a moment. Rosaline, with her eyes closed, and George just watching her, studying her. The library, almost entirely void of other students or faculty rested in near silence. 

Rosaline spoke again in a whisper, “I don’t hear much…it’s quiet. Calm.” 

She thought for a moment, really trying to focus to pull anything out of her setting. If she listened hard enough, she could hear the faint tick, tick, tick of the analog clock over the librarian’s desk near the entrance, the sound echoing through the high ceilings. 

“I hear the clock ticking in the distance.” she whispered. Her attention drew back to the man in front of her, trying not to find herself a little ridiculous standing there with her eyes closed in front of him, all too aware that he was watching her, “I hear you breathing.”

George let out a small encouraging, “Mhm.”

Rosaline took a deep inhale, breathing in the scents of the library she loved so dearly, pouring out her findings in an exhale, “I smell the books, the ink, the parchment. The floor polish. The dust. I smell…your cologne.”

She could hear his soft smile at her last addition. 

Then, he spoke, “What comparisons can you make between these findings-”

Rosaline opened her eyes under a furrowed brow, interrupting him with, “Wait, I didn’t do taste yet.”

George blinked, caught off guard by her sudden reply, “Well, I don’t know how you’d-”

She didn’t know what overcame her; maybe it was the dim, moody lighting of the historic library or the simmering impatience she’d been battling since they formed their agreement. Whatever it was, it sent her hand shooting out, fingers curling around the back of his neck as she pulled him into a kiss.

He tensed under her touch at first, the shock of it surging between them. The feeling of his hesitation sent a rush of pride through her veins—he was reacting to her, thrown off his careful control. But it only lasted a moment; soon, his hands were framing her face, large and warm, as he surrendered to the kiss, meeting her urgency with a sudden shared and undeniable hunger.

George stepped towards her a little more and Rosaline stumbled slightly before her back hit the cool wood of the bookshelf. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, a soft moan escaping her lips as his mouth moved against hers with a familiarity that felt effortless, as if they’d been doing this for years. He was only a few inches taller than her, barely enough to matter, yet she found herself rising onto her tiptoes, instinctively seeking every inch of closeness between them.

Pinned between his broad body and the sturdy shelves, Rosaline felt utterly consumed by him. Shivers raced down her spine, and warmth pooled low in her belly—a heat that was impossible to ignore. It was almost embarrassing how quickly she found herself growing aroused by only the slightest of his touches, each sensation magnified by her inexperience and the thrilling realization that this was no longer a fantasy. Oh, and it was just as good as people had always told it would be. 

In the back of her mind, she was aware that they were in a very dangerous position by doing this in the open library. They were risking getting caught by any of the handful of students still working across the spacious hall or by the librarian who would be closing up shortly. Despite this, she had no desire to stop. Every atom in her body burned for more. She already had her first taste of him, a hint of the pleasure that he could bring her without even using his hands, and now, like that, she wanted to push the limits just a little bit farther. 

Rosaline’s hands cascaded over his broad shoulders and down his chest, feeling the arches and valleys of his muscle through the thin linen fabric of his button up shirt. He was so real. She offered up another small moan into his mouth. That only urged his hands to move on her face, one of his thumbs dropping from her cheek to slide over her jaw and to her chin, gently guiding her mouth to open a little wider into their kisses so he could brush his tongue against hers. 

Her fingers grasped onto his shirt, her tongue eagerly pushing back against his between hungry kisses, their steamy moment hidden away between the towering shelves of books. She wondered if this had ever happened before in the centuries since this library had been founded; some pair of literaries making out in the shadows of the books that surrounded them. Maybe this was far too salacious for the figures of the past to even dream. Maybe the authors of the Classics that overlooked them from their pages were rolling in their graves at this sight. 

Rosaline’s fingers tugged at the front of his shirt to pull him impossibly closer, their bodies naturally moulding together until his leg was nudged between hers. His closeness was dizzying and she felt the heat of desire throbbing through her body. She tossed one arm around his shoulders with her other still grasping at the fabric at the side of his shirt, keeping his chest against hers. 

George moved with her, taking his hands from her face to slide down her waist and to her hips, gently pushing her fully back against the bookshelf, pinning her entirely there with his body. Her arm tightened around his shoulders, licking her way into his mouth at a rhythmic pace of lips and tongues and the slightest rock of her hips against his thigh. She felt dizzy. So pathetically needy and dizzy and overwhelmed as the world fell away around them. No more library, no more books, no more risk; just them floating in a cloud of promises. 

Every move George made was skilled and hesitant; it was if he was afraid to push her too far or to do something she didn’t like. His hands stayed firmly on her hips but his fingers itched to move and she could feel his hesitation as they twitched against her sides. With another roll of her hips, he followed the movement of her body to trail the shape of her curves until his hands rested on her bum. 

Rosaline shivered at his touch, the way his large hands gently kneaded her flesh over her jeans and slid down the back pockets to grab another handful. His insistence had her body pulled closer to him, the heat pouring through her at the way he rubbed her body in slow tantalizing circles over the shape of her figure. 

She knew they didn’t have long. If she wanted anything more than just kissing, she was going to have to take the jump and ask for it before the librarian came wandering the aisles to close up. 

Rosaline tilted her head back to break their steamy kiss, gasping softly to the high wood ceilings of the historic library. George didn’t hesitate before moving down her neck, his plush lips trailing soft open mouthed kisses over her flushed skin. 

“It aches,” she breathed, barely a whisper, with her hands grasping onto his biceps, “Please touch me.”

George let out a small groan against her neck at her words and then pulled away just enough to look at her, their noses almost touching from how close they stood. His hands gave her hips a squeeze, his voice coming out low and warm and laced with a balance of hesitation and lust, “This is supposed to be going slowly, darling. I don’t…”

She blinked at him, her eyes pleading with him, wearing on his hesitation with her flushed cheeks and kissed-swollen lips.

“I don’t want to do something you’ll regret.” George finished softly, rubbing his hands over her waist. 

“Please, George,” she nearly begged, “I really need you to touch me.”

He looked left down the aisle they were in, and then right, and then over his shoulder as if someone could have been peeking through the shelves at them. When he deemed the coast was clear, he looked back at her and swallowed up her lips in another hungry kiss. 

Rosaline gasped faintly into his mouth, clutching onto his biceps, letting him lead them into another tongue-led kiss. His fingers moved from her hips to the front of her jeans, and he blindly undid the button and tugged at the zipper. The hurried movements had her body jolting against his, every pull and shift sending her rocking back against the bookshelf, unsteady and breathless as she clung to him for balance.

Her heart was racing in her ears, her breath falling in anticipatory pants as his lips parted from hers for a moment in his concentration. They breathed into each other’s mouths in steady time, chests rising and falling as one. Her eyes met his as his hand toyed with the waistband of her panties and the lacy hem that was found there. 

“Tell me to stop if you need.” he reminded her sternly, his voice still barely a whisper. 

Rosaline nodded in agreement. 

Then, George’s slender fingers slipped down the front of her jeans and over the thin fabric of her underwear, his eyes locked on hers as he did so. She tightened her grasp on the sleeves of his shirt, her breath halting in her chest as his warm fingertips ghosted over her clothed swollen clit. 

“Spread your legs a little wider.” he instructed against her cheek. 

She shuffled her feet farther apart ever so slightly, staring into his eyes as she followed his instruction. 

“That’s it.” he praised.

She couldn’t help but let out a little gasp at the faint friction of his touch, watching the way he studied her in their impossibly close proximity. His breath fell against the apple of her cheek as his fingers touched the damp fabric of her underwear hidden down her jeans, his touch testing and exploratory. 

Rosaline’s face turned towards his, ghosting her lips over his as their breaths mingled together, her hand grasping at his shirt around his back to keep him close. His nose bumped hers, melting into her, his fingers starting to move slowly in firm back and forth motions over her clothed clit, giving her just a little bit of friction that had her biting her lip. 

Rosaline clutched onto him, staring into his eyes like she couldn’t look away even if she tried. That hazy dreamlike feeling was clouding her senses again, where the whole world fell away and it was just them in this secluded corner surrounded by nothing but the scent of his cologne and the aged books, bathed in the warmth of the lamplight. 

His arm pulled back a little, lifting his hand from her pants, and she let out a small whimper in protest. George simply hushed her softly against her cheek as he lifted his fingers to his mouth to suck on two for just a second before he was guiding them back down her jeans and, this time, slipping inside her panties too. 

Her eyes widened in realization, watching the way his lips pricked up in an almost cocky smirk at her expression. George rubbed his fingers between her legs, gliding the length of two of them between her slick folds, letting her arousal mix filthily with his spit before he was lazily rubbing his fingertips over her clit. 

Rosaline’s eyelashes fluttered and her whole body twitched for a second at the unfamiliar sensations. It never felt like this with her own hand; her own touch was so boring and expected. Now, under the control of someone else, his every action was unpredictable and electric and the anticipation which coursed through her veins was pure heat. 

No one had touched her like this before, never before had she thought herself to be brave enough to so easily let someone in to touch the most sacred parts of her. In all twenty-two years of her life, after years of failed attempts at love, the voice in the back of her mind that nagged at her innermost self-consciousness had her wondering if her pussy was even attractive. Now, hidden in the shadows of her favourite room on campus, with the first man to ever give her a second glance, she was so easily offering herself up to him and he was so glady taking it. 

George spoke in a hushed whisper, his lips dusting over hers with the formation of his syllables, “This okay?”

Rosaline nodded almost eagerly, creasing the fabric of his shirt in her white-knuckled grip. She raised up on her tiptoes a little more as she pushed her hips towards his hand, not quite sure what she wanted but knowing she just wanted more. Her little whimper fell against his cheek, her arm tossing around his shoulders before they so easily fell into another passionate kiss. She let out a small hum into his mouth, her eyebrows furrowed as she succumbed to the feeling of his hand moving a little stronger down the front of her pants. 

They shared a few sloppy kisses in the secrecy of the library aisles, hidden in the shadows of the shelves and walls of stocked books. Her soft moan was muffled by his lips as his fingers moved a little harder against her swollen clit, his tongue easily tasting the pleasure of her sounds. He fell into her a little, taking a half step forward, pressing her back against the shelves by his body. 

George’s fingers drifted lower, caressing strongly over her warm cunt and gathering more of that wetness that pooled almost uncontrollably from her. He groaned softly into her mouth before pulling away from their kiss long enough to praise her with a purr, “You’re soaking my fingers.”

“Can’t help it.” she mumbled in reply, her words dizzy and slurred with lust. 

“Mm, yeah? Does it feel good?” he whispered against her cheek. 

Rosaline nodded again with a small, “Yeah.”

Her mind was short circuiting to the point where she didn’t have the capacity to worry about if he liked what he was feeling—if he thought it was weird that she wasn’t entirely waxed and bare down there. But the moment she caught a glimpse of George’s handsome face close to hers, saw the way his eyes were blown wide with lust as he looked at her, all those insecurities evaporated, dissolving into nothingness in the heat of his gaze. His breath was hot against hers, swallowing her lips up in another steamy kiss that had her eyes fluttering shut and her body surrendering to him with ease. 

His whole hand was nestled between her legs to the point where every caress of his fingers over her cunt had the heel of his palm rubbing against her clit. A little faster, a little faster, she broke away from his kiss with a choked cry.

“Shhh,” George hushed her against her cheek, his lips peppering slow open mouthed kisses along her jaw. His other hand rested on the edge of one of the shelves beside her head, keeping his focus on her body and the way he moved down the front of her jeans. 

Rosaline bit her lip hard, trying to keep herself quiet in the midst of their salacious rendezvous. When his hand started to move just a little bit faster, she clutched harder at his shirt, tugging him closer so she could bury her face in his neck, her body arching up against his. 

George’s large hand moved from the shelf to cradle the back of her neck, holding her, hushing her sweetly against her ear as she whimpered against his collar, and he breathed out a reassuring, “Okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah-” she stumbled out in a trembling exhale. 

“Yeah, you’re such a good girl.” he praised against the shell of her ear, keeping his pace down the front of her pants. 

Rosaline’s hips jumped against his hand at the way his fingertips caressed her clit in fluid motions, exploring her in gentle strokes. Little by little, she found herself loosening, unraveling from the tight grip she’d kept on him, surrendering to the unfamiliar pleasure that was slowly consuming her.

Soon, her eyes were finding his again as she leaned back against the shelf but with a possessive arm still around his shoulders. Her breaths were falling laboured as he moved his fingers a little faster, burning tingling pleasure up her spine that had her toes curling in her sneakers. 

“Fuck-” she squeaked softly, struggling to keep her eyes open and on his. 

“That’s a good girl.” George praised lowly as his hand let go of the back of her head to rest on the shelf again, steadying himself while his other hand worked strongly down her jeans. 

She was lost in the rhythm of his fingers, surprised how much she could feel from his touch when her fingers herself never offered her much sustenance of anything. There was something about George that was entrancing and spellbinding, like he knew just how to touch her to get her exactly what she craved. 

Rosaline was so out of her mind that she could barely hear her own voice as she breathed out a pleading and pathetic, “Put your hand around my throat.”

George’s eyes flickered with a moment of hesitation, a play of lust hazing the momentary uncertainty, although his hand down her jeans didn’t stop even as he asked, “You sure you’d like that?”

She nodded almost eagerly. 

He took his hand from the shelf beside her head and gently wrapped his fingers around her throat, his thumb and fingers nestled under her jaw. When he squeezed ever so slightly, her eyes fluttered and her swollen lips let out an angelic breathy, “Yeah. Yeah, I like that.”

Rosaline had written far more salacious scenes before, but experiencing it for the first time herself was a revelation that left her mind spinning. George’s grip was light, almost tentative, as if he was afraid of pushing too far or crossing a boundary. Yet even that gentle pressure around her throat was enough to amplify every other sensation in her body, making her nerve endings tingle with an intensity she had never imagined.

“Naughty little contradiction, aren’t you?” George tutted with a prideful smirk to his tone, his voice hushed and his breath falling against her cheek as he pinned her against the shelves, hand still moving down the front of her jeans, “Just full of surprises.”

Rosaline parted her lips as if to respond, but all that escaped was a soft, quivering moan. A blush crept across her cheeks, warmth flooding her face as her self-control crumbled. She could feel her steady composure slipping away, unraveling under the mounting pleasure that drowned out any coherent thought.

“Cover your mouth if you need to.” George reminded her quietly, his velvet voice echoing in her ears, “Stay so quiet for me.”

Rosaline needed no convincing as if she were moving robotically by instructions, taking her hand from her white-knuckled grip on the side of his shirt to press her palm over her mouth. She couldn’t stop staring at him despite how her cheeks burned, her attention captivated by him and the way he looked at her, the way he clenched his jaw in concentration, his handsome face slightly shadowed as he towered in front of her and hid her away from the warm lamps of the historic library. 

A few more whimpers and moans fell uncontrollably from her lips, smothered by her hand over her mouth and the gentle squeeze of his around her throat. Her body writhed against his ever so slightly, rising up a little more onto her toes as the pleasure built up stronger and stronger through her veins, coiling that unmissable warmth in the pit of her stomach, everything suddenly feeling like too much. Oh, but she wanted it so badly, she needed him to rid that ache from her body, to give her what she craved. The bookshelves pressed into her back. 

“That’s it,” George purred, undoubtedly feeling the way her pussy started to throb against his slick fingertips, keeping his pace going, right at that angle that got the best reaction out of her, “Feel all of that pleasure and let it all out for me. Nice and quiet now, like a good girl, come all over my hand. That’s it, darling. Come on.”

Rosaline’s thighs were trembling, barely keeping her upright if not for the sturdiness of George’s body keeping her pinned snugly against the bookshelf. Her breaths were coming out in strong uneven pants through her nose with her mouth still clamped shut, her heart racing with desperate need to cum. She was so close, right there, the heat pouring through her and burning her skin under the faint pressure of his fingertips against her throat. 

His encouraging whispered words faded into a murmur as she reached that precipice, feeling her entire body tense right up, her arm around his shoulders digging her nails into his back through the fabric of his linen shirt. George grunted faintly against her cheek as she toppled into her orgasm, her clit throbbing against his fingers as he kept her going through it. Her head fell back against the bookshelf with a dull thud, her hand still clamped tightly over her mouth to smother the whimper of pleasure that threatened to spill over and give them away.

The moment the peak of her orgasm tapered off and her body buzzed with sensitivity, she dropped her hand from her mouth to grab his wrist between them instead, halting his hand down her jeans. She was panting, her swollen lips glistening and red, her wonderfilled eyes staring at him, sparkling behind the thin lenses of her glasses in the dim library lighting. 

“Jesus Christ.” George breathed, his forehead resting against hers as he slowed his hand to a stop down the front of her pants and slowly retreated. His hands rested on her waist and rubbed the curve of her lean body for a moment, disconcerted by the glistening wetness on his middle finger that smeared faintly against the fabric of her shirt and left a damp, telling trace, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Rosaline exhaled, reaching between them to button up her pants again.

“That wasn’t too much?” he asked, staring into her eyes as if trying to pull the truth out of her with only a glance. 

“Promise.” she assured him, resting her hands on his chest, “I would have told you otherwise.”

“Okay,” George exhaled as if in relief, a tame smile tugging at the corners of his lips as his large hands gave her hips a squeeze, “good.”

Rosaline slid her hands up to the sides of his neck and timidly pulled him in to meet him halfway for a breathless kiss. Her heart was racing, mind whirling, in disbelief that they had just done that. It was no mind-numbing, earth-shattering orgasm as often expressed in books or movies; instead it had fallen over her in warm waves of pleasure, calm and satisfying, and filled her with a buzz of euphoric relief. She hadn’t expected to be able to come so easily from just his fingers—hell, using her own fingers did next to nothing—but there was something about the way George touched her, knew just where the most sensitive spots were, that had her entirely satisfied. 

Seconds later, when Rosaline broke away from his lips for a breath, she rested her forehead against his with a sighing, “That was…so incredible.” 

“Mm,” George let a faint smile dust across his lips in his agreement, “Can’t say I mind helping you with your research anytime.”

Just then, approaching footsteps had them breaking apart, George taking two steps away to stand casually at the opposite shelves. The librarian appeared at the end of their row.

“The library is closed now,” she told them kindly, “If you can make your way out, that’d be great.”

George offered her a polite smile, “Of course. Thank you.”

She disappeared again. 

Rosaline looked back at George, the two of them facing each other across the narrow aisle of shelves. Their expressions broke into small amused smiles and Rosaline pushed herself away from the bookshelf with a bashful bow of her head as they got ready to leave. They walked side by side back towards the table at which Rosaline and her friends had once sat and studied. The library was completely empty apart from them by then, all students disappeared back to their dorm rooms and homes. She picked up her bag from the chair where she had left it and tucked it over her shoulder. 

“This was risky,” George whispered to her, his voice quiet and gentle yet firm, “we cannot do this again. Not in a place like this.”

Rosaline replied softly as she turned back to him, “Well it’s not like I can take you back to my dorm.”

There was a moment of hesitation on his face before he finally spoke a gentle offer, “Come to my house. Tomorrow night.”

Rosaline’s heart did a little somersault in her chest and her momentary shock at the invitation and the weight it might have carried must have spread itself across her face. 

Almost right away, George was assuring her, “Just for drinks. Nothing more. Just to be away from prying eyes.” 

Rosaline couldn’t deny that the concept of going over to his house held a sense of excitement and curiosity. She pulled a timid smile and nodded in agreement, reaching into her bag to pass him her notebook and a pencil so he could scribble down his address for her. 

She stared at his profile in the dim light of the library, the shadows across his face and the crisp line of his jaw, the way his fingers cradled her pencil as he dragged the graphite across the lined page. Those same fingers that had been down her jeans only moments ago. How was this real? How was he real?

George handed her notebook back to her with a handsome smile, “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Yeah,” Rosaline exhaled, taking her notebook back from him, “See you.”

She watched him walk off towards the exit of the library and, before she too made her way out, she looked down at the page of her notebook again. In his precise curling cursive, he had written; 

30 Richmond Road — 4pm x

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[mxltifxnd0m]

a book for every situation ── . ✶ i. lahey

summary: isaac loves that you're a bookworm, until you ignore him for a book

pairings: isaac lahey x bookworm!reader, isaac lahey x gn!reader warnings: none really, no use of 'y/n', fluff, slight humor, a mention of isaac's dad, reader is described as shorter than isaac, title is a lyric from carolina by harry styles, kinda edited; all mistakes are my own word count: 2.6K a/n: had the sudden idea to write bookworm!reader and wanted to write isaac, so combined the two ideas lol. this could have been a head canon but i was itching to write a one shot for my boy hehe <3 enjoy !! isaac lahey masterlist

YOU’VE ALWAYS LOVED books. You’ve been reading since the ripe old age of 6 when your mom brought you to the Beacon Hills library, and you discovered the Junie B. Jones series, and from there, you were hooked. Whenever you were asked what you wanted for your birthday, you always replied with books.

And you never really grew out of it. You loved getting lost within the pages of a well-written book, getting emotionally attached to the characters, and submerging yourself into the world of the book.

Stiles and Scott always teased you about having your nose stuck in a book, but they never failed to ask you for help with their book reports or essays for English. You didn’t mind helping them, but you never failed to have a smug grin on your face when correcting Stiles when he was being a smartass. 

They aptly gave you the nickname “bookworm,”—they were going to shorten it to ‘Wormy’, but after verbally threatening bodily harm, they never called you that nickname after the threats made by you (you still remember the fearful looks in their eyes).

You would have argued that Stiles could compete for the title of the biggest bookworm (it was more like who was the biggest nerd), but one mention of the overflowing bookshelves in your room proved you wrong very quickly.

However, when you were pulled into the world of the supernatural by your best friends, you perpetuated that stereotype to the extreme. When Scott was bitten and became a werewolf, you all but threw yourself into researching and reading whatever lore books you could find on werewolves.

Despite being human, you brought a lot of brain power to the pack (which is saying a lot since the only ‘brainiacs’ within the pack were two other people).  Your extensive knowledge of the supernatural and mythology came in handy. It helped the pack out when it came to the threats that loomed over Beacon Hills constantly. 

Isaac knew that you were smart, maybe too smart for your own good. He vividly remembers spotting you at the local library when he was younger, with your eyes rapidly moving across the page. You sat at one of the tables with books spread throughout the top of it, with one of the Percy Jackson books in your hands as you flipped through its pages.

You were someone that he noticed, but Isaac doubted that you would have noticed him with his quiet disposition and his preference to stay in the background. So when he became a werewolf and inadvertently joined Scott’s pack, he was slightly intimidated by you. Though you were cold to him at first, you eventually warmed up to him—Isaac wouldn’t admit it aloud, but he felt relief wash over him when you stopped acknowledging him with a slight frown on your face and a genuine smile. 

Once the two of you became friends, you guys naturally gravitated towards each other; whether it was sitting together at lunch or in times of danger, Isaac instinctively looked for you and tried to protect you. You remembered the day that Lydia pointed it out to you and just brushed it off as him being a good friend and not wanting you to get hurt since you were one of two humans in the pack. 

Lydia had a sly smirk on her face. “I don’t see Scott trying to protect Stiles at every turn.” 

You narrowed your eyes at the strawberry blonde—you were glad that she didn’t have super hearing because she would have heard your heart beat faster at her implication. You brushed her off and went back to studying, but Lydia didn’t miss your slightly flustered state. 

You had to admit to yourself that you found yourself falling for Isaac. His dry humor complimented your smartass remarks that you found snarking out to him in the moments of banter that the two of you had, and he was easy to talk to when it came to anything.

He’d let you ramble about the book you had just finished or rant about a plot line within a book that irked you to no end. Other than talking about books, you found that Isaac’s presence allowed you to tell him things that you found challenging to try and bring up with Stiles or Lydia. 

In turn, Isaac confided in you about his past with his father (which sparked a flame of anger inside of your chest but managed to keep it contained) and was significantly more vulnerable with you in general. 

You knew that your life wasn’t like one of the romance books you read—if anything, it was more like the horror murder mysteries that were on the bookshelf in your room.

You liked reading romance, they were a fun escape, getting swept up passionate love story between the two main characters, and wishing that your life was like the ones in the books. But you were realistic and didn’t delude yourself into thinking that you would have a love story like any of the heroines that were in these books, hence why you kept your burgeoning crush on Isaac to yourself. 

Little did you know that Isaac had felt the same way about you, and unbeknownst to you, Isaac had a feeling that you liked him back (he silently thanked the fact that he had super hearing and could hear your heartbeat). 

So, he decided that he would make a move during your weekly movie nights with the pack. After the movie was done, he stayed behind as the rest of the pack left to help you clean up (since this most recent one was held at your house). After the living room was cleaned up, the two of you were in the kitchen chatting about how kinda bad the movie was and how egregious the plot was. 

You were putting away some dishes back in the cupboards so your parents didn’t harp on you for not doing it, and you turned around to be face-to-face (more like face-to-chest) with Isaac. You didn’t realize how close he had gotten to you, and your breath caught in your throat. Isaac’s bright blue gaze froze you into place. 

Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest, and you knew that Isaac could hear it. Being this close to Isaac, in combination with the cologne he was wearing, was enough to make you dizzy. 

Isaac was smirking internally, hearing your rapid heartbeat, and let it show on his lips as he placed his hand on your cheek. His eyes flicked from your lips and back to meet your gaze. 

“Can I kiss you?”  

You wanted to regain some control over the situation and your heart rate. “What’s the magic word?” You quipped with a slightly nervous smile on your lips.  

Isaac huffed a laugh through his nose, his hand moving from your cheek to the back of your neck. 

“Can I please kiss you?” 

“There it is, ye-” The rest of your response was cut off by Isaac pulling you close to you by your neck and kissing you. 

The moment Isaac’s lips landed on yours, everything around you faded into oblivion, and all you could think about was how soft and warm his lips were against yours as they moved together. It was everything that you imagined kissing Isaac and more. This kiss felt like how they were described in the romance novels you read, fireworks and all. 

Now, you were lying in your bed, reading your worn copy of Little Women that your mom had gifted to you for your thirteenth birthday. Your room was dim but bright enough so your eyes weren’t strained when reading the black text on the page, and you had some tea on your bedside table that you occasionally sipped at as you read. 

Sunday was usually the day you carved out time to read recreationally if you didn’t have any homework to do over the weekend. Today was a gloomy day, making you want to bundle up. Which you did, clad in some fuzzy socks, a soft sweater (that you definitely didn’t steal from Isaac), and some sweatpants. 

You were so absorbed in your book that you didn’t realize that Isaac was leaning on the doorframe at the entrance of your room until you heard a loud cough pull you from the story and back to reality. 

You looked up and saw your boyfriend with a small but amused smile on his face. “Oh, hey! I thought you were coming over later?” 

“Babe, it’s later.” Isaac pointed to your alarm clock, and you saw that it was the time he had texted that he’d be over.

“Oh.” You said sheepishly. “Lost track of time.” You gestured to the book that was still open in your hands. 

Isaac chuckled lightly. He loved the fact that you were a bookworm; it was very endearing to him, and it was one of the many things that he loved about you. 

“I could tell. I was standing there for a good five minutes before I caught your attention.” Isaac kicked off of your door frame and made his way into your room, closing your door as he did. You noticed that he was dressed in a similar get-up to you—he was wearing a sweater and some sweatpants. 

“You were just standing there and watching me read?” You raised a curious brow at him. 

He nodded. “Yeah, you scrunch your eyebrows together when you’re really focused.” Isaac moved to sit right next to you on your bed and used his thumb to smooth out the wrinkle from between your brows. “Like that.” Isaac couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.

You didn’t realize you were doing it, and when you felt his warm hand on your face, you swatted it away, feeling yourself flush at the action. 

“Don’t worry, it’s cute.” Isaac grinned before leaning down and kissing your forehead. 

You rolled your eyes at him, but you couldn’t help the slight smile that grew on your face at the feeling of his lips against your skin. You shook your head at him before picking up your book again and picking up where you left off. 

Isaac couldn’t help the pout that formed on his lips as you began to read again, ignoring him for your book. There was a reason why he came over: to spend time with you and get your undivided attention. A sigh escaped him before he let his head fall back against your headboard with a slight ‘thunk,’ staring up at your ceiling. 

Another sigh left him, this one slightly louder than the first. And then he did it again, then one more time— this time being the most audible out of the four times he did it, making you cast a glance at him before you went back to reading. 

Isaac mentally groaned at your lack of response at his (poor) attempt to get your attention. He looked down at you, totally engrossed in your book. Isaac decided that it was time to bring out the big guns to get your attention. 

You felt Isaac poke your arm. You didn’t even flinch and kept your eyes on the page. He did it again, this time poking your thigh. You pressed your lips together as you reread the sentence you were trying to finish before Isaac was trying to get your attention. You quickly caught on to what Isaac was trying to do, but you wanted to finish this page before you could reprimand the boy sitting next to you.

The next time he poked you, he aimed for your side—making you jerk away from him. 

Isaac all but whined out your name. 

You finally looked up from the book. “What? Why are you poking at me and sighing?” 

“You’re supposed to be spending time with me,” Isaac said in a very matter-of-fact tone. 

You pursed your lips, trying not to laugh at your boyfriend’s tone. “But I am spending time with you.” 

Isaac rolled his eyes at your witty remark. “I meant that you’re not paying attention to me.” 

“When Lydia said I’d be practically dating a puppy, I didn’t think she’d be right.” You had a sly smile on your face as you teased Isaac. “Let me finish this page and then you can have my undivided attention, okay?” 

Isaac’s eyes narrowed at you before moving so fast that you barely registered what he did. He grabbed your book from your hands and threw it on the floor next to your bed. 

“Isaac!” You exclaimed indignantly. 

He smirked before climbing over you, his face hovering over yours. “You can finish the book after I leave, but right now I’d really like a kiss since I didn’t get one when I got here.” 

You shook your head at him. “You’re an idiot.” You looked deep into his cerulean gaze, finding it filled with mirth, love, and satisfaction at getting your attention. 

“You’re dating this idiot.” Isaac smirked before sweeping you up into a dizzying kiss. 

Your hands instinctively found themselves buried in his blonde curls as his soft lips moved against yours in a passionate kiss that filled your chest with warmth.  Kissing Isaac never failed to make you feel like you were the only person in the world as his lips made you forget anything else was happening. Isaac pulled away from you and chuckled when your lips followed his. 

“You happy now?” You asked him as you scratched at his scalp. 

“Very.” Isaac shot you a smug grin before lowering his body on top of yours, letting his head rest on your chest as you played with his hair. 

You welcomed his body weight on top of you like he was your own personal weighted blanket. The both of you let out contented breaths as you relaxed together. The room was filled with a comfortable silence as you played with Isaac’s hair. You could feel Isaac place a gentle kiss on your neck occasionally before nuzzling his nose in the crook of your neck, taking in your familiar scent—his body relaxing further as your ministrations almost lulled him to sleep. 

The two of you stayed like that for the rest of the night before your mom knocked on the door and let you know if you guys wanted to eat anything, dinner was made, and you could serve yourselves. 

You looked down at Isaac, who was nearly asleep on top of you. You brushed the hair from his forehead, making his eyes flutter open. 

“Are you hungry? My mom said that dinner is ready downstairs.” 

Isaac opened his mouth to respond, but his stomach growled loudly—making you giggle at the sound and at the red hue beginning to grow on Isaac’s face. 

“I think that answers my question.” You said with a smile. 

You went to move, but Isaac grunted and wrapped his arms around your waist, preventing you from moving further. 

“Five more minutes.” Isaac mumbled into your neck

“I don’t know if your stomach can handle five more minutes without eating.” You teased as you ran a hand through his hair. 

Isaac groaned before rolling off of you and onto his back on your bed. “Fine, but you owe me more cuddling time after we eat.” 

You laughed at Isaac before you nodded. “Yeah, yeah fine you big baby, let’s go down and eat.” You patted his thigh before getting up from your bed and taking your half-drunk cold tea to bring downstairs. 

Isaac got up from your bed and quickly grabbed your free hand, his fingers interlacing with yours—making you smile at the action before the two of you made your way out of your room and down the stairs to eat.  

[mrsfrecklesmarauders]

"The sky is beautiful from my side" Lily said with a sigh "Full of stars... How is yours?"

James looked up and smiled. He would call it destiny that the sky was clear. There were few stars visible and the moon was big and shiny.

"Nice view tonight" he said to the phone.

"Yes, it's beautiful!" Lily exclaimed.

"Not as beautiful as you"

The silence Lily gave him after that made James feel like an idiot. Fuck fuck fuck! That was not what a friend was supposed to say, was it? James had promised Lily and himself he was going to respect the friendship thing. And it had been fine. It had been amazing, actually.

James had been used to having Lily hating his guts and insulting him. Being Lily's friend was new but wonderful. It was an honor to get to know her. To make her laugh. To hear about her day and her secrets.

Since summer started, they had been talking on the phone two times a week. And oh God! James was thrilled and he didn't want to jinx it. It was a dream come true.

Pining over Lily as her good pal was ten times better than fucking it up and making her angry again.

James wanted to do things right this time.

But sometimes he didn't have a filter and he said stupid things he felt because they were bloody strong.

Luckily this time, Lily giggled on the other side of the phone. James smiled in relief. He appreciated how sweet her laughter sounded.

"You know how to use your words, eh Potter?"

"Just telling the truth"

"You are just testing if you can flirt with me"

Yes! A million times yes!

"Is it working?"

James's heart suddenly ran fast expecting her answer. He still had hope that one day she would feel the same as him.

Because James felt like he loved her.

Before Lily could answer, they were both interrupted by Marlene's voice in the background.

"Bloody hell, Lily! Quit flirting with Potter and let us sleep!"

James felt dumb to blush but the best part was that he knew Lily was blushing as well. He knew her well by now.

"Marlene!" Lily protested "I'm not flirting..."

"Maybe you can have your sex calls outside the room" James heard Mary's voice.

His cheeks went on fire with the mere thought of hearing Lily whispering sexy things to him.

"Mary!" Lily whined. "Sorry Potter," she added to the phone "just ignore them"

James laughed nervously. He heard Lily moving and closing the door behind her.

"We just had a volleyball tournament today" Lily explained, lowering her voice "The McKinnons got competitive. We are knackered"

James was glad Lily was having fun with the McKinnons.

"I guess I should leave you to rest, right?"

"Yeah maybe or they are going to kill me.. " Lily said "James!" she exclaimed seconds later making James jump but loving to hear his name from her mouth "It's really late! No wonder the girls were annoyed"

James checked his watch. 2 a.m. Had they really been talking for three whole hours?

"You are right" he chuckled

"I didn't notice it was that late" Lily snorted.

"Time flies when you are having fun"

James could feel Lily's smile.

"Who said I was having fun?"

"Big mistake, you are actually annoyed by my irritating voice, right?"

Lily chuckled "Very irritated!"

"Knew it"

Lily laughed making James's heart melt.

"Have a good night, Potter"

"We are back to Potter? Aaw..."

Lily giggled "Go to sleep, James"

"That's better" he bit his lip "I like it when you say my name"

Shit! He was stepping over the line.

"Sweet dreams, Jaamees..." he imagined Lily rolling her eyes.

"As long as they are with you"

Definitely stepping over the line.

"Bye, Potter" Lily said but she was amused.

James smiled "Bye, Lily"

Lily was the one to hang up first but James felt the goofy smile on his face already. His face red, his ears burning but his happiness so loud it was contagious.

James loved Lily Evans. It could explain why he missed her already. He just talked to her for hours but it was never enough. He wanted to see her face and smell her perfume and if he was lucky kiss those lips...

James snapped out if it. Better not get his hopes up.

James felt he was practically floating when he reached his room. His parents were asleep already and the house was quiet.

He was careful not to make noise as he stepped inside.

"Done with your mellow phone call?"

James jumped and cursed under his breath.

Sirius was awake. Wearing one of James's shirts and inside his bed.

Sirius had his own room at the house by this point. Although he never slept in it. He had been attached to James like glue this summer. Especially after what happened with his family. Everytime James saw the bruise on his face, he wanted to kill Sirius’s father.

"Bloody hell, you scared me" James whispered, charged into his pijamas and got inside the covers next to Sirius.

Sirius stared openly the whole time.

"Couldn't sleep" Sirius explained "Came to see you but you were busy"

James grinned in response. He couldn't hide how happy talking with Lily made him.

Sirius was not pleased.

"How's Evans?"

"Beautiful!" James sighed as he leaned down "I mean well! She's having fun at the McKinnons"

"With one of Marlene's brothers, I presume?" Sirius raised an eyebrow.

"Padfoot!" James protested trying not to sound jealous.

Adam and Cole were too much older for her.

"Joking" Sirius shrugged.

James stared. His best friend was upset. He had that face James knew well when he pretended to be fine but was dying inside. James could see inside his eyes how many things were going through his mind.

"Pads... Want to talk?"

"About Evans?" Sirius made a face.

"About you..."

"You look like a fool with your face all red and probably your dick hard"

James rolled his eyes.

"We are in good terms, best terms" he smiled. "I lose track of time when I talk with her"

"You lose control of your cock as well"

"Fuck off!"

It was Sirius who James wanted to tell his feelings about. He wanted to share his happiness with him. He wanted advice. He wanted to tell him he might be in love.

"Summer is about flings" Sirius snapped "She's probably having fun with different blokes..."

James blinked at him.

"Many things can happen at the beach"

James smiled slightly "Thank you for being so gentle with me"

Sirius grinned.

"She is having fun with you as well, messing with you over the phone"

"Lily is not like that"

"Lily, is it?" Sirius scoffed "You know her very well now, don't you?"

James was being patient.

"I reckon I've been getting to know her better"

Sirius clenched his teeth. James knew he was trying not to explode.

"How nice!" Sirius said sarcastically "Prepare to be in the friendzone forever!"

James wanted to do something to fix Sirius. To do something to make him feel better. He was a mess because of his fucked up family.

"What is it dear Pads?" James said with a cheeky smile "Are you jealous?"

He said it mostly to make a joke and make Sirius laugh. But it was surprising to see Sirius go red as a tomato.

"You are getting red!" James teased because Sirius had done the same. He poked his cheek.

Sirius got furious and pushed his hand away.

"Fuck off, Potter!!" he spat "I'm just watching your back. That girl is going to break your heart really fast! Then you will be crying around the corners like a baby and I don't want to deal with that!!"

And James was taken aback. Because Sirius was not joking anymore. It made James feel impotent not to help him.

"I really like Lily" James said carefully.

Sirius’s eyes filled with tears but he turned around and laid showing James his back.

"Let's just go to sleep"

James took a deep breath.

"I don't know what's wrong with you, Pads" he said "But you are my best friend. And I want you to be happy for me and support me with this. Lily might like me back or she might not. But I reckon it is my business to discover it. And yeah if she breaks my heart, I hope I can count on you to get the pieces back together... "

Sirius didn't move.

"I'll be the happiest man in the world when you fall in love for the first time, you know?"

Silence. Another sigh.

"Good night, Padfoot"

James took off his glasses and turned off the lights. What he didn't see was that Sirius was silently crying next to him. Because of the confusing feelings he was facing. For James. For Remus. And the whole mess with his family.

Sirius wanted to hug James, cry and forget about everything forever. But he was a coward to admit it.

[eringobragh420]

🖤 Pairing — Seth Rollins ♥︎ f!OC 🖤 Summary — Seth believes he's doing the right thing. (Part 2/?) 1 | 2 🖤 Word Count — 2.7k 🛑 Warnings — Attempted suicide, depression, infidelity, hospital setting 18+ 🖤 Taglist — If you'd like to be added, please click here! 🖤 MASTERLIST

Violet

Every time she moved, the uncomfortable vinyl chair squeaked, but it was a welcomed change, however brief, from the incessant beeping of the machine monitoring Seth’s heart rate. Six days later, and he was at the point where he appeared as though he were merely sleeping—his color had mostly returned from the pallid shade he’d been discovered in, he’d been given sponge baths, and the nurse had allowed Violet to gently brush his hair before twisting it into a bun the way he liked it and tying it in place with the very elastic band he’d been using that day, tears streaming down her face through the entire process. His long, beautiful lashes rested on his cheeks, and his fiancée had also been permitted to trim his beard, sobbing during this action as well. 

He could have been sleeping.

But he wasn’t.

She’d been sad then. She was angry now. And she would be sad again in a day or two—a vicious cycle she was slowly getting used to. How could he do this? Why? Things had been going so well, or, she supposed, she thought they’d been going well. Seth had smiled and laughed and held her and kissed her and made love to her just as he normally did in the weeks leading up to that day. She’d never once suspected he was thinking about trying to kill himself, and neither had any of the friends or family or coworkers she’d interrogated—if Seth wasn’t going to give her any answers, she’d have to find someone who would, however utterly irrational a decision this was. No one knew what had been going through Seth’s mind but Seth, and he was in a coma. 

He was recovering, the doctors assured her, though it was a slow process, and of course they couldn’t be one hundred percent sure he’d ever wake up again. His brain function had improved after several medications, oxygen, and sedation, and she’d been told his recovery was rather astonishing given how much poison he’d ingested. But, as someone with no medical background, she witnessed no advancement—just her sleeping, depressed, suicidal fiancé, dressed in a generic hospital gown, several IVs inserted into veins in both his arms. The medical team couldn’t be sure if any coma patient was able to hear the outside world, but they encouraged her to talk to him anyway. The first few days had been full of weeping and begging and pouring her heart out to him with no response. 

“I have an appointment tomorrow,” she softly spoke. She’d turned the chair around so she could face Seth and hold his hand, both of which she was doing now. One hand under his, the other on top, and he was so warm and she recognized all his fingers and all his lines, but his muscles were lifeless. She never thought she could miss someone squeezing her hand so much. The head of his bed had been lifted, and she’d assisted the nurse in making sure he at least looked comfortable on his pillow and under the scratchy blanket and sheet. “It’s my first ultrasound.” Tears trickled down her cheeks. “I was gonna—” She sniffed, flicking the tears away quickly so she could return her hand to Seth’s.  “I was gonna wrap it up and give it to you for Valentine’s Day.” More tears. “Damn it, Seth.” She doubled over, forehead on her hand, and it was one of those moments where she couldn’t breathe. 

Would he be around to see his child grow up? If he survived, what sort of quality of life would he have? Had she really kissed him for the last time? Suddenly she couldn’t remember what his voice sounded like. She’d have to pull up the videos of him on her phone so she could refresh her otherwise concussed brain. 

A knock at the sliding glass door, and she didn’t acknowledge it for a long moment.

“Vi?”

She inhaled deeply, again brushing the salty tears from her cheeks, as well as her chin and neck. She sat up, automatically searching Seth’s unbothered face for any changes, even the most subtle ones, but there was nothing. Still sleeping. So beautiful. “What?” she rasped, then cleared her throat. 

“How’s he—” 

“He’s the same, Hunter.” 

Triple H entered the room, likely knowing he wouldn’t receive an answer either way if he asked. Violet smelled his cologne—another embraced change from the stinging antiseptic scent of the entire hospital. Even the cafeteria. He stood on the opposite side of Seth’s bed, huge hands resting on the safety rail. “Have they said anything—?” 

“Hunter, I promise, if he wakes up, I’ll let you know. If the doctors say anything different than what they’ve been saying for the past week, I’ll let you know.” 

“I’m sorry, I—” 

“Just,” Violet interrupted, lifting her hand from Seth’s to rub her forehead. “I’m sorry.” She sighed. “This is an angry day.”

Hunter shrugged and swatted a hand. “Don’t apologize. I can’t imagine what you’re going through.” She nodded—she hardly knew what she was going through. “I just hope you know how much I care about both of you.”

Violet sniffed, watching Seth inhale, exhale, features so soft and serene and perfect. Could he hear them right now? “I know,” she replied.

“That being said—” 

“You son of a bitch,” Violet chuckled dryly, shaking her head. 

“It’s not my idea, but I promised I’d present it.” 

“Let me save you some time.” She glared up at him. “I’m not going on television, and you’re not mentioning him on television. Anything else?” 

“We just wanna give you time—” 

“Hunter.” 

Her boss held up a hand. “We just wanna give you some time to update the fans. You can say whatever you wanna say. You have carte blanche.” 

“No thanks.”

Hunter’s smile was sympathetic, and Violet wanted to curb stomp him for herself and her fiancé. She squeezed Seth’s hand still resting in hers, her heart crumbling as she again received no response. “Obviously you can do what you want. But let me just say one thing.” Violet sighed, nodded. “A lot of these fans grew up with Seth. And you. And what happened effected them, too.  Hell, some of them call you two their parents.” Tears brimmed once more, her gaze locked on Seth. Parents. “And you have kids—” He incorporated air quotes. “—in NXT.” Kids. 

It came out before she knew it was happening. “I’m pregnant, Hunter.” Her boss’s mouth clamped shut and his grip tightened on the safety rail. 

“Did Seth—” Violet shook her head, the tears accumulating before now freely falling. “Vi, I don’t—” 

“If I promise to think about going on TV, will you leave?”

Hunter chewed on his bottom lip as he rounded the foot of Seth’s hospital bed. He placed a heavy, but comforting, hand on her shoulder. She knew he was just doing his job, but that didn’t make his reason for coming burn any less. It seemed like everyone wanted to know how Seth was doing for their own selfish reasons, not because they truly cared about him. 

“If there’s anything at all either of you need …” 

“Thanks.” Hunter patted her shoulder and finally made his exit. Taking a deep breath, she tried calming her nerves and focusing her attention back on her comatose fiancé, but she was successful in only one of her quests. “Did you get all that?” she asked, not expecting an answer. “I know on one hand he’s right—they do deserve to know. But it’s also none of their business and they should respect our privacy. I don’t know what to do.” She searched Seth’s worry-free face. “So you have to come back to me, okay?” The tears were forming once more. “I can’t do this on my own.” She collapsed into sobs, body wracked with shudders as she gasped and sucked in oxygen between wails. “I can’t do it, Seth.” 

Seth 

“I can’t do it, Seth.”

Seth’s brows furrowed and, although he knew he was alone, he turned to inspect the living area of the hotel room. No one stood behind him, especially not his fiancée, whose voice he swore he’d just heard. Shrugging, he returned his attention to the mirror and finished knotting the black tie at his neck. Finishing that, he smoothed the rest of his tuxedo over his fit body, smiling proudly at his reflection, the gap between his two top front teeth on full display. He was finally marrying Violet Lockhart, the absolute love of his life, the most beautiful woman in the world. He didn’t know how he’d gotten so lucky, but he was eternally grateful to whomever may have had a hand in their courtship.

The locking mechanism on the door beeped and turned, and Seth watched as Roman, Mox, and Hunter entered the room, all speaking at the same time, each of them somehow understanding the other two. Seth chuckled, brushing his hair, then attempting to twist it into its normal bun while three grown men punched him playfully in the stomach, ribbing him like children about how his life was over since he was getting married. The Architect’s eyes narrowed, unable to ignore how much these guys actually were acting like kids, and when the hell had he asked Triple H to be a groomsman? He didn’t necessarily remember asking any of them, but at least Roman and Mox made some sense—Hunter was his boss, and the two weren’t particularly close.

The door beeped again, and Seth’s mahogany eyes switched to the entrance as Chelsea Green, one of Violet’s closest friends and maid of honor, seemingly floated over the threshold in a gown of gorgeous malachite. 

“It’s time,” she sang, gently clapping her hands together. 

Following her, Seth checked the inner pocket of his suit jacket for the rings, finding them tucked safely away, and he considered handing them to Roman or Mox, as he’d been instructed to do, but at the last moment, left them where they were. He was suddenly petrified of losing them. Chelsea glanced at him over her shoulder, smiling warmly, and she threw open a pair of floor-to-ceiling doors to reveal a magnificent church. Seth’s brows again knitted together, and he looked over his own shoulder to see exactly where he’d just come from, but the doors closed, and somehow he knew they wouldn’t open again. They weren’t supposed to get married in a church—it’s not what Violet wanted. As his eyes searched the various religious statues and stained glass windows, he dug through his brain files for where they had decided to tie the knot, but he couldn’t find it. The church wasn’t right, though he had no idea what was. 

“Wait,” he said, “are you sure—” 

“You stand up there,” Chelsea instructed, smile still sparkling, gesturing to the altar. “She’s on her way.”

Seth nodded. “Yeah, but—”

Chelsea drifted away, and Seth’s stomach knotted, an icy grip of foreboding squeezing his heart, making it difficult to breathe, causing his brain to throb. His legs carried him to the altar without his consent, locking him in place, and he was frozen to the floor as guests made their way inside and to their seats. Everyone moved in sync—their steps, turning into the correct pews, staring at him. An air of unease blanketed the church, and Seth gulped.

“You good?” Roman asked, standing beside him.

Seth shook his head. “Something’s wrong,” he said. 

“Nah,” Roman smiled, placing a huge, heavy arm around Seth’s shoulders. “Everything’s alright.”

Seth followed Roman’s pointed finger to the doors he’d come through moments before, smile slowly splitting his lips. Violet now stood there, her bronze hair curled and hanging past her shoulders, makeup pristine, and her gown was—Seth’s growing smile began to fall—black. It hugged her curves, fanning out at her legs, a long train dragging behind her as she approached. The cathedral veil she wore was also black, and Seth racked his brain again for a memory of his fiancée mentioning wanting a black wedding dress, but he came up empty-handed. 

“We’re gathered here today—”

A holy man appeared without warning beside Seth, and then Violet was standing in front of him, and he was positive something strange was happening. He just couldn’t figure out what it was. Everything seemed right, but were terribly wrong. Was he dead? Had he fallen into an alternate universe? But his fiancée was indescribably gorgeous, and he was finally marrying her after everything they’d been through—everything he’d put her through—and if things were a little off, then so be it. Whose wedding day was actually perfect? 

“I love you,” Violet whispered, gazing up at him as if he held the answer to life itself. 

“I love you, too,” Seth replied, squeezing her hands. 

“If there’s anyone present who believes these two should not be wed, please speak now, or forever hold your peace.”

Neither Seth nor Violet expected an answer from their guests, maintaining eye contact with one another, their hands exchanging squeezes. 

“I object.”

Violet’s mismatching eyes rounded, Seth feeling his do the same, and all the air left his lungs in a rush. The church was eerily quiet—no coughing, shuffling, children crying, or family members sobbing. He knew the voice that had spoken up, and he was sure Violet didn’t, though she certainly knew why the woman had interrupted. Seth licked his lips, chewing on the bottom one a moment before he slowly turned to look at the woman as she stood from her pew in the middle of the others. Seth swallowed again, instantly recognizing one of the women he’d cheated on Violet with, her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at him expectantly. 

“Seth,” Violet muttered. 

“It’s okay,” Seth said. He turned back to his soon-to-be-wife to find tears and mascara dripping down her otherwise immaculate face. “Honey—” 

“I object.”

Seth’s head whipped back to the guests to find another woman standing, another one of his flings. And then another. And another. And another. “No,” he mumbled. “This isn’t … This can’t be real.” 

“Did you fuck all these girls?” Mox asked, and who the fuck was he to judge Seth’s mistakes? 

“No!” Seth snapped. “I mean … yeah, I did, but I didn’t—” 

“And you invited all of them?” Roman asked. 

“No!” Seth yelled, glaring over his shoulder at the Samoan, who had a hand over his laughing mouth. “Fuck you, Reigns.” 

“I wouldn’t be worried about me, brother,” Roman said, pointing.

Seth followed his finger, his own ocher eyes widening at the new scene before him. Violet, the woman who’d saved his life, in the gigantic arms of his boss, Hunter. Her body quivered, and her cries echoed off the intricate decorations and statues. Hunter’s eyes slid to Seth and the comforting smirk behind his beard was laced with lethality, and he winked at the younger man. 

“No, no, no,” Seth breathed, hands clutching his suddenly pounding head. “Something’s wrong.”

Violet’s arms dropped from around Hunter’s neck, her body seeming to move on autopilot as she turned to face Seth. Her eyes were vacant, utterly devoid of life and love and happiness and excitement—dead. “Something is wrong, Seth,” she deadpanned. “And it’s your fault.” 

“What else is new?” Hunter chucked. 

“Seth did something wrong? I’m shocked,” Roman chimed in. 

“Hey, Seth,” Mox hollered. “Are you done with this girl? Thought I might try her out.”

Seth shook his head, trying to block everyone and everything out of his mind. “I have to be dreaming,” he said to himself. “That’s all. Just a dream.” 

“No, Seth,” Violet said. “We had dreams.” More tears, but her tears were black now, sludge, thick. “You turned them into nightmares.” 

“How do I wake up?” Seth squeaked, slapping his head, pinching his cheeks. “I have to wake up.”

Violet grabbed his face, clutching his now sore cheeks, and she was beautiful again—makeup was pristine, tears dried, complexion free of the ooze from before. But the dread in her eyes was overwhelming, and Seth collapsed to his ruined knees under the weight of it, her hands never relinquishing their grip. “You’re not waking up, Seth. You’re gonna be here forever.”

Seth blinked. His surroundings melted, disappeared, rebuilt. When his eyes opened again, he was standing in front of the hotel mirror, tying his tie. The lock on the door clicked and beeped, and Roman, Mox, and Hunter entered. Seth’s heart stopped. 

“No.”

TAGLIST: @southerngirl41 @femdisa @riverina69 @rollinssection @paramedicnerd004 @mandmilovehim @brianochka @yourmommyagone22 @sweetmoonlove0214 @partypoison00 @missbmc94 @lils2795 @aureliacorvina @magicalbuttertarts @madimcg14 @thealliasylum @lov3rla03 @plaidpajamallama @princesstiti14 @deansimpala @princessesareforsuckers

[dawnoftime22]

tent.

| T.S

INTHAF series, Chapter 1

Warnings: None!

Summary: With the thought of being away from Taylor for such a long time, you finally decided to call her up, and with the idea of spending your time in a recently built tent — inside your house…

Word Count: 2.1k

Category: Fluff!

A/N: so...who could write a short series on a song that barely has lines? me. yes. don't expect much, but this is all FLUFF <333 enjoy!!!

P.S, this is a series that was originally from 2023 but never got worked on :] i won't mind if anyone will like it or not, I'm just really proud of it and actually finishing it, but love you all, hope you enjoy anyways<3

| Started on 26/11/2023, 8:33 AM |

| Finished on 29/12/2023, 11:13 PM |

Main Masterlist | T.S Masterlist

INTHAF Masterlist

"It's nice to have a friend."

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It was quiet as you were sat on your bed, relishing in the feeling of a peaceful atmosphere. The windows emitted daylight from outside, and the sheets of your bed kept you warm despite the cool air.

Currently, you were free to do whatever you wanted, having no plans for your day to do.

...Or, well, you had no other plans that could get in the way of your one singular plan for today. It was very important to you.

Taylor, your best friend since high school, has been busy in her music business, and you've been thinking of a way to spend time together once she gets a big break from her work. A tent was casually sitting in your living room as your finger lingered on her contact name. Oh. Yes. The living room— only in reason due to all the rain thats been outside.

Your thumb taps on the name eventually, and the screen changes to a calling one, a rhythmic tone sounding out from the phone. You put it against your ear, awaiting for the beeping to stop and a familiar voice to come through.

"Y/N!! Hi!!" Her voice comes out softly. From all the time you've spent away from each other, your mind plagued with worry, but the softness of her tone calmed it right down.

"Hey, Tay," You respond right back, her name coming from your mouth just as gently. A smile rose on your face, and she could hear it in your voice.

"We haven't talked in a while. What's up?" As you listened, her voice sounded happy, or excited. There was no background noise at all, and it didn't seem like she was stressed. At least relief flowed through you, with the hopes that you caught her at a good time.

But in her side, her face and day had brightened up the second she saw your name pop up on her phone screen, and now she was fidgeting with her necklace as she waited for your response.

You took a breath in. "Nothing, really, I just thought...are you busy at all today?" You were about to mention the plan of hanging out right away, but since she's been so busy, you didn't want any expectations of either of you being disappointed, so you asked her first.

You hear her hum through the phone, like the gentle melody of her songs as you waited. "No, I'm free all day," she said softly. With a soft sigh, you let yourself lay down comfortably on your bed, knowing that if you stood up, it would only make you pace the room as you talked.

You pressed your phone against your ear, making sure your grip wasn't too loose. "Wanna have a sleepover or something?" a pause went by, but then you simply blurted it out. "I have a tent in my living room."

A moment of silence went by. You could almost imagine her expressions. "What? What led you to doing that?" Her surprise was present in her voice, a soft laugh echoing over the call, and you giggled yourself.

"Well, I was thinking of going camping with you but...since you've been busy lately, I thought we could do a short and easy way to feel like we're camping without having to." You explained, trying to give her reasons to come over.

Another silence goes by as she processes your words. Either that, or her brain may have short-circuited. You thought the first one, because your own brain might be dealing with the latter. "It's also just been very rainy, and who doesn't like feeling like a child again, sleeping in tents?" you add in, although a slight grimace rises on your face at even the thought of a tent sitting casually indoors rather than outdoors.

"You...are so random sometimes." She breathes out a laugh, then goes quiet. You hear a small meow coming from the background, and it was obvious her attention had gotten distracted by a certain cat.

"And...?" You added, having not gotten an answer to your question yet, and your fingers brushed over your bedsheets to find something to soothe your own heart.

"Yeah, sounds like fun!" She says, her voice going up a bit at the end of her sentence, saying it with full honesty and excitement, while another meow sounds out again.

"Who is that in the background?" You asked with curiosity, the noise being adorably small like a kitten.

"That's Benjamin. He jumped on the piano keys." You hear some distant sounds of the piano keys being played, presumably, his paws hitting them as he walked.

Taylor had picked up your call while at the piano, that's for sure. You caught her in the middle of a practice or songwriting session.

Then you blinked after process of realizing she stopped playing to pick up your call, but another thought went by of this new cute friend.

"You got a new cat while you were gone?!" She hears your gasp through the phone, and breathes out a chuckle. "He sounds so cute and small..." you murmur, a smile upon your face. Some shuffling came through before she spoke up again.

"Yeah!! I saw him while filming a music video, so I thought why not..." she says, keeping watch on the small little kitten walking on the keys. You couldn't wipe the smile off your face, and you shook your head. She could have 50 or more kittens if she wanted to, and in another universe, she probably did have that many.

"So, your place, I'll be there in 20 minutes?" Taylor asked. Since you two were close, she had once focused to getting a house near yours, just so you could go to each other's places easily.

"Yeah! I'll see you later, then." You said, sitting up. She could hear the movement, but couldn't see them since you were on a voice call, and you could hear her keys jingling in the meanwhile, a small laugh going by. "Okay, see you."

"See you- And don't forget snacks! Specifically marshmallows!!" You manage to get your words out as you giggled. You already had your snacks ready, all you had to do was just put biscuits and chocolate, or put the marshmallows over a fire. Or well, in this situation, your stove.

"Okay, okay. Bye, now!" She said, almost urgently, and you had to stop yourself from questioning on if she had things to finish up first, or if she was excited. On the other side, she was first petting Benjamin's soft fur, smiling.

"Bye!" The end call tone sounded out, and you pulled your phone away with a smile as you laid back to your bed, content with the conversation you had.

A sigh leaves your lips. It had been so long, but the time went by like the ceiling fan spinning from your ceiling, fast and full of bustling wind. There was nothing else to do but wait.

You turned on your side, then got up, (although regretting it and cursing yourself for how fast you went), you decided against continuing your comfortable position on the bed, for the risk of being too comfortable, or sleep creeping in to the corners of your mind.

Your legs led you off to your already open door and to the living room, where the lights were dimly lit with an orange color, and the curtains were closed, leaving a cozy atmosphere in the room.

The kitchen was your target. There, the snacks were already sitting beside a backpack upon the kitchen counter. Opting for an easier way rather than getting them all in the tent later with your hands full, you instead pick them up and place them all in the bag.

There were books in the tent too, ready to read with a small reading lamp. After gracefully setting down the bag, you went back out and laid down on the couch, not wanting to get bored of the small space while waiting for Taylor.

You fiddled with the couch's material, fingers brushing against it before a sigh escapes. Your phone was an option for distraction, sitting face down off in the corner of your vision, but you had already spent far too much time on it when you were trying to decide on calling Taylor or not.

You grabbed a book instead, going to get youreelf lost in a world of fantasy to pass the time. It was only you inside the house, but for now, you focused on Taylor's arrival that will soon come.

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Once 20 minutes or so passes by, you soon hear the doorbell echoing through the front door. You nearly jump from the couch in eagerness, the ceiling having turned to be entirely the most dull thing you've stared at your whole life.

Walking to the door, the air was cold from the rain that had started dropping down just a bit ago. Your hands go to the doorknob, and when you get it open; behind it, reveals the blonde standing with a gentle look on her face, her eyes brightening at the sight of you.

"Hi. I brought Benjamin." She smiles, turning her body slightly to show you the small black, brown-ish eared kitten. You giggle, loving how she sometimes brought along one of her cats, although this was a new addition.

"He's very welcome to join," you say, noticing how the sky behind her had gone dark. Not only from the rain, but the sun having gone down. You didn't even realize the time was evening when you called her.

You move to stand aside, letting her enter your home just as she used to so many times before. She quickly notices the tent sitting in your living room, and her eyes were set on it. The warm atmosphere wrapped her in a comfortable feeling.

"You really did go all out," she says softly, but giggled, stepping in and admiring every aspect of your living room, and the way the tent actually seemed quite comfy.

"Anyway, great news that he's welcome, because he's been wanting to meet you." You could see the kitten stare up at you from the peekhole of the bag. She takes off her shoes, leaving them on the shoe rack before turning to you.

"Meet me?" You ask, slightly confused, walking towards the tent with her following off with you after she was done.

"Okay, this sounds silly, but he's seen pictures of you on my phone, and I kid you not, gotten my attention with meows and paws on the screen multiple times!" This time, a bright laugh comes from your lips, making the corners of hers, turn up softly. The two of you manage to arrive at the tent, it safely (and nearly silly looking) sitting at the living room.

You had prepared by leaving the zip closed before, so when you arrived, you take a glance at her with a corner of your lip going up. She looked at you with raised eyebrows, but also an amused smile. Your hands go to open it, a smooth sound coming from the zipper until it fully opened, and the sheet flopped down to reveal the inside.

You crouch to go into the tent, settling down at your own spot as you watch her get in too, her face awestruck. Inside, was a small camping lamp you had bought a few days ago, and a projector that shoots up a picture of the night sky up the ceiling of the tent, leaving it glimmering with stars.

"I can't believe you did all this." She breathed out, sitting down next to you as she stared up at the scenery above her. She shook her head, a growing smile on her face when she glanced at you.

She took off her cat backpack and opened the zipper, Benjamin jumping right out and beginning his new curious adventure of inspecting everything in the tent, including you.

"Aw, he's so tiny." You watched the kitten's paws pad around before their directions turned to you, and its beautiful blue eyes shined your way. It certainly reminded you of a certain someone, that's for sure.

Your hand reaches out, and Benjamin lightly sniffs your hand before walking in, making your hand touch his head. Your face melted into pure adoration completely when you felt his soft fur.

You continue petting him, ending up entirely with him in your hands, while Taylor was watching the interaction gently. Her eyes held a somewhat calm, loving look in them. You didn't see, because you were too caught up in the new friend you had gotten.

You held Benjamin in your lap before going to grab something in your bag at the side of the tent. Both the kitten and Taylor had looked, practically sharing the same face as your hands searched. Eventually, your hand got back out with two vars of chocolate.

Taylor let out a small "ooh!" when you set it down in between the two of you, her eyes tracing every movement of the sweet treat, realizing what the marshmallows was for.

She reaches back to the cat backpack, opening another zipper to the further back, and brought out her own treats; the bag of marshmallows you asked for. "Got the marshmallows." Her hands gently open the pack and grabs one...(four) and eats it, her face brightening at the delicious taste.

You smile at her, grabbing one for yourself and opening the chocolate bar, too, setting hers beside her. If anyone saw you, they would've thought they were seeing kids hanging out. But, who cares? The treats were quite delicious, after all.

As you were unwrapping the chocolate, she had popped the other marshmallows in her hand, off into her mouth, and now was grabbing Benjamin off your lap, holding the purring kitten close to her chest to pet him.

She waits until she's swallowed the food in her mouth to lay down on the floor, placing Benjamin on her stomach. As the relaxation started to sink in, he had his eyes closed, curled up comfortably. The warmth of everything was making up the most coziest atmosphere.

Her eyes searched the ceiling with the made up stars, as if looking for a type of constellation. You didn't even know if this projection had the actual night sky, but it would be impressive if it did.

You bit into your chocolate, letting it melt in your mouth as you looked at her every movement. The soft skin of your hands brushed against each other ever so slightly when you moved to lay down fully, letting your head rest against the floor.

A crinkle sounds out as she cracked open the chocolate pack too, casually eating it with the marshmallows— a sweet chaotic taste that can either be teeth rotting or delicious in your mouth. Probably both. The least is, you both will remember to brush your teeth very thoroughly later on, and drink some water.

You both watched the beautiful stars with a comforting silence that came over the moment, all of everything, finally, seeming to slow down for just a minute. Maybe an hour. Her guard was lowering down, and you could slowly see the work starting to get taken off her shoulders.

You soon moved to prop yourself up into a sitting position, looking over to your side once more. It didn't take much for Taylor to notice, and she turns her head to look at you, her eyes curious on what you were doing.

You grab a piece of a post-it note from the small pile of items, along with a pen that sat next to it, writing down something without letting her look. She smiles, her mind wanting her to move to see, but she waited patiently for you.

You lay back down, the paper with ink handwritten on it in your hand. Slowly, you put it on her lower stomach, right below where a sleeping Benjamin sat, as if she didn't just watch you do the entire thing.

She tries her best not to smile and instead put on a curious face, her hand going to delicately grab it. She holds it up to the ceiling, since she was laid down, and read the words. It was, 'I miss you :(', and her insides filled with warmth. The blonde looks to you, who's been waiting in anticipation.

"I'm right beside you!" She exclaims playfully, laughing. But in her heart, she knows what you're trying to point to is that she was missed by you, so very dearly in the time of her absence.

Her teeth caught her bottom lip, but the corners of her mouth was raised up in a smile. "I missed you, too." she says, her voice being so soft.

You didn't see it, but she had slipped the note into the pocket of her sweater...for safekeeping.

end of chapter 1. <3

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